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Post by sphinxgoddess on Dec 18, 2009 0:39:57 GMT -5
Air and water canisters lay strewn across the cargo hold of the Horseman's Banquet after the pseudo-skirmish between the small transport craft she had owned for a short period. Mahara was lucky her cargo hadn't floated into the nether regions of space. The ship, though repairable, was going to take considerable work to be in tip-top shape again. Emil's GM E stood towards the front of the hold. One arm had been shredded by machine gun rounds, but unlike the ship, would be much easier to fix. The young pilot had chosen a side, and at this point, what looked to Mahara to be the better-paying and more trustworthy side. Thanks to the Federation, the GM E would soon be patched up and back into battles. But what option did Mahara have? She could pay for the repairs, which would cost more than a third of what she had paid for it to start with. Or, the voluptuous Indian captain could pilot it in its present state - with a giant hole in the cargo hold. And that just wouldn't do.
"Damned governments... damned factions. Damn all of them for nearly blowing up my ship!"
Mahara grunted angrily, lifting one of the canisters onto a shelf by the front of the hold. The shelf was steady enough, being bolted into the wall, but this time she wasn't going to take any chances. Xenick had wasted no time after the whole ordeal was over to bring some heavy rope, once Mahara set her sharp umber eyes on him. She wrapped the industrial-strength cord around both the canister and shelf several times. Intricate knots ensured that the next time the ship came under fire, the shelf would have to accompany the canister into free space.
Treyden approached carefully from the direction of Emil's suit. He called out, "Captain?"
She didn't turn or give any indication she had heard him. His muddy-brown eyes followed the purple lacing of her corset down to her small but firm ass. After a moment of staring he took a deep breath and shook his head. Her cheeks were clinched so hard, she could have cracked a small hazelnut in between them. She's not pissed, he though, she's fuming.
"Captain?" He tried again. This time she heard him.
"What?" Her voice came out quietly, but almost like a growl.
Treyden started to pick up one of the other canisters. "Why don't you let me take care of this, Captain. You have more important matters to worry about."
In an instant Mahara was within a few feet of the mechanic, her thick honey-auburn spilling around her thin neck and down into the dip between her breasts.
"You're right, I do." She placed the toe of her black boot onto the top of the canister and pushed it back to the ground. "But I swear if this cargo isn't tied down like it should be this time," she warned, "someone will be following it into the black vacuum the next time this vessel comes under fire."
A few minutes later Mahara walked into the Bridge. Jarl stood absentmindedly by his communications desk, awaiting orders he knew were coming. Xenick had been in and out of the Bridge several times; he had been given charge over Emil after the pilot had reboarded.
"Jarl," she began. "I want you to find every file you can on that ship. I want my original records of the purchase and anything you can find on who I sold it to."
The half-blind man nodded and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Mahara continued her slew of demands.
"After that I want you to get in touch with Emil's superiors." She crossed to Jarl's desk and peered over his shoulder, checking to see if he'd already started checking the files. She pointed to a folder on his computer screen where documents of their agreement with the Federation had been stored.
"I don't care if you tell them that Emil had to go into battle again. In fact, since they've apparently pulled a gun on him before, don't bother telling them," she instructed. "You can, however, tell them that Emil is alive and well. And that I would appreciate our payment being expedited."
Over furious clicks of keys Jarl asked, "Is that all lady Mahara?"
She was already across to the other side of the room when she replied, "Yes, that will be all for now."
Xenick waited for her in the hallway that led to the crew's quarters. Mahara passed him on her way to where Emil was supposed to be sleeping. Once he had gotten his suit back into the ship, the blonde pilot had nearly fallen out of it from exhaustion and what looked like a panic attack. Xenick and Vindro had helped him to Xenick's quarters, and thankfully he fell into a deep sleep without much trouble.
"How is he doing?" Mahara asked from the doorway.
It was hard for Xenick to keep his voice down, but he managed. "Still asleep. He hasn't woken or anything since we brought him down," he replied.
As Mahara looked over Emil's pale, boyish face, her temper cooled. He had pulled Xenick's hunter green wool blanket around himself; it might have been the most warmth the youth had found in a long time.
"I need to wake him," Mahara stated matter-of-factly.
"What? Why?" Xenick asked, confused. "He just had to go out and do exactly the thing he is afraid of. He needs rest."
Mahara gave her youngest crewmember a cold look. She asserted, "Don't be so young as to assume I don't know what the boy needs or what he's been through."
Xenick looked down at he floor. He blushed a little, and might have mumbled a "Yes Captain, sorry."
Mahara pushed herself away from the doorway and began to enter the room. Just inside the doorway, she looked at Xenick again to explain.
"He needs to know why I asked him to fight. He needs to know what good came of him defending our ship... how important that is to us. Additionally," she paused, and turned again to the huddled form of the sleeping pilot.
"He may be of use in the very near future, and I'd like to know if he plans on staying in the vicinity of the Riah's colonies."
"Emil...... Emil I need to speak with you for a moment...."
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Radune
ZMF Officer 
Ensign
The child of the sun
Posts: 428
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Post by Radune on Dec 18, 2009 1:06:18 GMT -5
Emil saw the face of the man that had died that time he fell for the Zeon trap, and the sheer sight of him were enough to freak him out. However, no matter where he turned, where he ran, every time he would be there. And he would keep blaming Emil for his death. No matter what Emil tried to do, there was no way for him to avoid him, no way to escape.
Suddenly, he heard a voice. Not the brash, rude voice that usually speaks to him, but rather a calm, friendly voice.
"Emil...... Emil I need to speak with you for a moment...."
He started to wake up, and the first thing that met his eyes was the face of the captain of the ship, Mahara. Stretching and yawning, the young pilot let out a tired "Good morning.." before yawning once again.
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Post by sphinxgoddess on Dec 21, 2009 21:49:34 GMT -5
Mahara walked as softly as she could into the room, even though Emil had already begun waking. She took hold of the chair in front of Xenick's small desk with one hand, spinning it around on the corner of one of its back legs. As soon as it came to a stop at the side of the bed Mahara slid into it like melting caramel. She pushed her torso against the back rungs of the wooden relic, making her breasts bulge but appear safely locked away. Her knees jutted away from the chair as she straddled its back.
Captain Mahara met Emil's blue eyes with her own that shined like amber-colored sap. "Emil," she said softly, "I know you didn't want to fight, but I had to make you. I didn't do it for selfish reasons."
She swung one arm out towards the direction they had been attacked.
She asked, "Do you know what they would have done to you if I had allowed them to board?" The pilot opened his mouth to reply, but closed it once Mahara silenced him with one finger.
"They would have interrogated you, Emil, using any means necessary. If you wouldn't talk, they probably would have tortured you," she advised.
Mahara then continued, "They would have put you up for ransom to the Federation. And if your government didn't pay, well..." her eyes turned to one of the frosted glass windows in Xenick's cabin. "Let's just say any Federation soldier that isn't of use to them in one way or another, isn't long for this world."
"But I don't want to scare you," she added after all that could be heard in the room was the high-pitched buzzing from the fluorescent lights.
She crossed her arms over the top of the chair before resting her chin on them. Her head tilted to the side just a little, letting her golden orange hair obscure one of her equally stunning eyes.
"I would be lying to you if I said I didn't care for this ship. But we can always buy new ships; there are always jobs for us from both sides of the war," Mahara said.
She couldn't help but stare at the young man in front of her, whose hair was disheveled from sweat, nerves and sleep. A haunted look hung about his eyes like he had replayed the death of a fellow soldier, or someone close to him, in his dreams. Inwardly, Mahara was relieved they had all escaped with few injuries, and without the Duchy taking what wasn't theirs.
"But all the money in this war cannot buy back the lives and livelihoods that are lost in it."
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Radune
ZMF Officer
Ensign
The child of the sun
Posts: 428
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Post by Radune on Dec 21, 2009 22:18:15 GMT -5
These words of hers triggered something inside of Emil. Finally.. someone that understands. he thought. Trying to stop himself from crying, he put his hands over his face. Opening up, he kept talking to Mahara. "I.. hate fighting. I hate going out to fight, since I always know I have to kill someone out there. I always try not to, but it just seems like it is unavoidable. And every time I kill someone, people always congratulate me for it. Why do they do that?"
He is not successful in keeping the tears away, so he tries to look away from her, and keep talking. "There's always people who die on our side, as well. I always wonder 'do they have family? Do they have people that love them?'. But I never get any answers, and people will always have to mourn."
Still crying, his words begin to be even heavier, and he seemed to have problems talking properly any more. "People don't care about lives, they only care about 'success', 'defeating the enemy' and 'winning the war against the evil Zeon'. People say I'm some sort of ace, a great pilot, but I'm nothing but a murderer. Hell, I don't even understand why I'm fighting any more. I just try to survive, but that doesn't seem to be enough for some people. I feel like this war is tearing down my very soul. I don't get it, I feel like I don't understand anything any more.."
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Post by sphinxgoddess on Dec 23, 2009 0:54:44 GMT -5
"Someone must win this war, Emil," Mahara replied blankly. "Every person you kill is a step closer to that victory, at least as far as your government is concerned."
She had been listening to the pilot for some time. His emotional state had destabilized erratically as the boy thought of all the times he had been forced to power up his mobile suit, and every time he would have to in the future. Inwardly Mahara agreed; she had nodded subconsciously to his worries, without true empathy for the boy's situation. "The longer he stresses over the lives of those he faces, the more likely it becomes that he will shut down completely. Then it will be his life taken in an instant, from carelessness or confusion," she thought. If she couldn't get Emil to accept that fact here, where he was safe for the moment, the chances that his mental state would unravel on the field of battle would multiply tenfold.
Trickling tears had made streaks like red ruts course down Emil's cheeks when Captain Villina decided it was time for the boy to embrace his role.
Her tone fell to what many who had met her before deemed as "cold," as she said, "Like it or not this is where you have ended up. In this war you can either kill or be killed."
She stretched her arms behind her back and linked her fingers. Her back arched like a cat, while she rolled her head around in a circle down by her collar bone.
"And the longer you keep worrying over whether or not the person facing you has a family, has a life," she shook out her shoulders, "the easier you make yourself a target."
Mahara looked up to see Emil's big, baby blue eyes welling up again with tears. She rose from the chair, spinning it back to its place pushed just underneath the desk with as deft a move as she had done the first time. She did not muffle her steps to the doorway as she had when she first entered. At the frame, she turned back to the young pilot.
"You must come to terms with this war and the part you play, Emil. I know you hate it, but the Duchy will not be merciful."
To drive the point home, she added, "If they catch you before you have dealt with your fears, they will not hesitate to remove you from their path."
As soon as the words had fallen from her rosebud lips, Mahara knew she had perhaps pushed a bit too far. The diminutive movements of Emil's fingers clenching and releasing the blanket were not lost on the observant captain. "Damn it, I guess he'll just have to figure it out in due time," she cursed to herself. Hoping to calm the young pilot down, she shot him a warm grin.
"I'll leave you for now; it's better if you don't dwell too much on those you have killed or have seen killed."
As she exited the room, her voice became almost like a coo: "There is still light in the world, it's just harder to find. Now, lay back down and get some more rest. I'll be in my quarters when you're re-energized."
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Radune
ZMF Officer
Ensign
The child of the sun
Posts: 428
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Post by Radune on Dec 23, 2009 2:06:59 GMT -5
Emil laid down, his head full of thoughts. She probably was right. Right about everything. I don't like it at all, but I guess there's really no choice.. he thought. He has to live. He HAS to live. And in order to do so, he has to kill others. There is no justice in this, only survival. I HAVE to kill. I HAVE to force myself to do it, whether I like it or not. Somehow, there must be a way for me to do it. I HAVE to do what it takes to survive, I promised her that.. was the thoughts that passed through his head.
He knew she was right, but to convince himself that she is probably will take a while.. he might think that he has convinced himself, but that might be completely different out in the battlefield. He figures that he is probably a bit too riled up right now, and should try and rest for a bit longer. It seems to be what she wants of him right now, after all.
He fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes. Once again he saw the face of the man that had died when they fell for a trap. However, this time, he did not run away, but rather tried to stand up to him, tried to confront him. "It was not my fault you died! I tried my best to keep you alive! Stop doing this to me already!"
Everything went black.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Emil slammed the alarm he had set. It was only half an hour since he fell asleep, but that was enough for Emil to calm down quite a bit. Stretching and yawning, he heads through the door. After a little while, he was standing outside of the captain's room. Before knocking on the door, he takes a few deep breaths to muster his courage. After that, he speaks.
"Err.. it's Emil. I'm sorry I acted the way I did, but it won't happen again, I promise."
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Post by sphinxgoddess on Jan 3, 2010 22:23:52 GMT -5
The lean Indian beauty brushed past Xenick without a word to the youth as she made her way back to her own quarters. Whatever questions he would have about the way she had handled the unstable pilot could be answered later. She was more concerned with finding out who had attacked them in the first place, and such things were much easier discovered when the less-experienced members of the crew had been set to other tasks.
Mahara did not halt in her path to her room. As she passed close by Jarl's shoulder, he held up a folder. She snatched it quickly. A kick to her door with her heel shut it soundly, notifying her communications specialist that for the next bit, she did not wish to be disturbed.
"Let's see what he found for me," she said to herself. She slid into the cushioned seat of her own wooden chair. After flipping open the file folder, her eyes moved left to right over the original sale documents from her first job.
One of her burgundy-painted nails stopped under the name of the ship.
Mahara's face turned sour as she frowned, "Name the craft 'Prince of Argau,' that's all I wrote?"
She turned her gaze towards the direction of the Bridge. Her eyes darkened as she shot a look of death at the door to her room.
"I swear if Jarl couldn't find out who owned that puny ship just from the name..." As she turned her attention back to the folder, she noticed a page of notes Jarl had scribbled down, behind her original order.
"Good boy," Mahara whispered. She focused on the name until her eyes grew as big as saucers, and her small nose was inches away from the paper.
Nadia Adelaide, he wrote. Not exactly a big fish in the Earth Federation waters, but clearly experienced enough to be a nuisance.
She skimmed the rest of the page. It seems like he couldn't find a lot of information on what her actual job is. What little she can be traced to, it looks like she's either a contractor or some type of mechanic.
By this point Mahara had eased back well into her chair. Her immaculate black boots were crossed on the top of her desk.
The observant captain checked back over the folder's three short pages, then tossed it. It landed beside a flower paperweight on the right side of her desk. At the same time, Mahara's nimble fingers were loosening the ribbon lacing at the back of her corset. When it came free, she took in a deep breath.
She exhaled, the cool breath traveling down the smooth line between her breasts, "I guess it's a good thing that we could never work out getting that girl a few pieces of cargo."
Instinctively Mahara sought out the clock on her own computer. She had left Emil to continue his rest a little over fifteen minutes ago. But, knowing how... unsound the boy's mind could be, she was sure he would be at her door soon. Mahara took a minute to count. Three minutes for hair, two for body, three give or take to shave. I've got time, she reasoned. Whether or not she intended to be dressed when he arrived... well that was another story. So with few minutes to spare, Mahara stripped off her tight pants and remaining undergarments, then headed to a cool shower.
Thirteenish minutes later, Mahara's tan skin had a fresh glow about it. Water droplets trickled down her bare back as she wrapped her hair up tightly on top of her head in a midnight-purple towel. She clenched another towel around her lower half a little looser, leaving the thin, black silk waistband of her thong exposed on one hip. A pair of black skin-tight pants lay atop a small dresser in her bathroom. Beside them, a black corset with red-rouching over the cups sat waiting.
Mahara glanced over at a tarnished watch that lay beside the sink, and noted the time. "If all goes well I'll have two more min-"
She had spoken too soon. Emil's voice, though boyishly soft, could be heard from outside the door and a few knocks followed. Normally on time and well prepared, she was now going to be rushed. If I'm not going to be ready, at the very least I'm going to be dressed, she thought. In a flurry of movements only those with expertise in corseting could have, Mahara stretched her busty torso through the bodice and hooked all of the hook and eye closures simultaneously. In a much easier process, she slid her newly-shaved legs down into her pants, zipping and buttoning the pair in an instant.
"You can come in, Emil," she said loudly. She would have to leave the boots off for now. A click and a small swoosh sound later, then she heard the pilot enter.
She swung her head down hastily, catching the now displaced towel with one hand. With her other hand she ruffled her hair. There was no time for drying it, either. Eager to approach her guest before he could take note of all of the nick nacks and specifics of her room, she left the towel in a pile on the dresser, and strode confidently in the room.
She looked the boy up and down again. His eyes were a little lighter, though not much. His eyebrows, which she had noticed quivered at the corners when he was nervous, now were a little more stable. "That extra thirty minutes must have done you some good, Emil. You look like you're ready to face the world now," she said.
"Please, have a seat," Mahara continued, and pointed to the chair at her desk. She pulled up another chair from a corner.
"Emil," she began, "I believe you are well aware that your government is sending me, as payment, a suit with similar mechanics to your own. It's true none of us know how to pilot it, but we are in desperate need of defenses during our exploits."
Mahara cleared her throat. The cogs in Emil's mind were turning, she could see. He likely knew what she was about to propose, but she wanted to be the first to put it out into the air.
Her hands ran again through her dark honey-colored hair. "Since you are already well versed in the art of mobile suit pilotry, I wondered if you would consider giving me a crash course, as soon as we receive the suit."
After a moment, she added, "I understand you may still be hesitant to piloting your own. But of course, we would not be battling each other. Unless something went horribly, horribly wrong, neither of us would be in any danger so long as we stayed in the Side 6 boundaries. So what do you say?"
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Radune
ZMF Officer
Ensign
The child of the sun
Posts: 428
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Post by Radune on Jan 4, 2010 13:49:49 GMT -5
As Emil were heading into the room, he tried not to look around too much, since he knew some people didn't react nicely to it. However, he noticed that the captain seemed a bit.. stressed.
Being told where to sit, he acted without questioning her. He had a feeling about what miss Mahara would say after that, and it turned out to be true. She asked him a question, but it seemed like she already knew the answer. For some odd reason, it always seemed like the best choice to do what she asks, especially while he's still on her ship. Besides, he owed her that much.
"Well, I'm not sure how much I can help, but I'll try." he answered. "Just.." he looked away. "Um, if you ever have to go into battle, promise me you'll be extremely careful, alright? People die out here all the time.."
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