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The lab on Side 6 was only a bit less-impressive than Nadia Adelaide had dreamed, and much more than she'd expected. Her co-workers and lab assistants were bright, focused and easy to get along with, and the equipment was all top-of-the-line. She knew that they'd make excellent progress as soon as things picked up speed. It was not without regret that she had left her role as a test pilot for the Principality of Zeon; such a position was not without its benefits. She remembered the adrenaline she'd felt in the heat of battle; knowing that she was collecting valuable data and fighting for her life had been exhilarating. No matter how many parts she'd burned out, or how much damage her suit had suffered, there had always been replacement parts - not that she'd been careless. On the contrary, she'd always utilized the resources at her disposal wisely. The scientific community's knowledge of I-fields had grown leaps and bounds since she'd been drafted into the Principality's military forces. Many of the contributions were hers; the amount of data that the Principality had allowed to go public was small, but wherever the military had not sworn her to secrecy, she would take her ideas, memories, and hypotheses with her into her new laboratory. And there was plenty of catching up to do; though many in the scientific community had pledged themselves to one side or another for the war, many still worked independently, in the spirit of collaboration, as science was meant to be done. Their contributions were far from minor. She had accomplished much during her time in the military, but the bad memories far outweighed the good, in number and strength. She recalled her first experience with a superior officer: She had thought the man meant to take advantage of her, and had very nearly assaulted him. She'd learned protocol fairly quickly after that. She shuddered unconsciously as images of the Federation GM E pilot, cut in half by twisted metal from the suits own cockpit, flashed through her head. She could still see the torso as it was torn from the cockpit, and smell the vomit in her helmet. She wondered if she would be able to stay off the stimulants she'd gotten so used to. Research in a lab was different than research on the battlefield, it was true, but she knew that she was a driven person. But, as she recalled the detox process, and how difficult it had been, she decided that she was more driven to take good care of herself than to pull consecutive all-nighters in the name of science. There was always coffee, after all. Earlier in the week, she'd sat down to write a letter to Dozle Zabi, thanking him for the recon Zaku shield he'd awarded her for her time in service to the fleet. It had been a kind gesture, and she'd wanted to thank him personally. Now, she finally had the time to do it properly - but she wouldn't for long. She had been discussing the direction their research would take with Dr. Gerald Lampmann and the other senior researchers, and they were almost ready to begin their experiments. When that began, there would be little time for anything else, outside the laboratory. Not that she wouldn't ever get out. Gerald had asked her to dinner recently, and she'd accepted. It had surprised her at first, but she was beginning to realize that she appreciated his company, as a scientist, and as a man. He still didn't appreciate Seville oranges like Nadia did, but he made up for it in other ways. It was good to be out of the military. The lights came on automatically as she strolled into the lab. The light reflected off the polished metal workbenches and sparkling new lab equipment - meters and meters of space, dedicated not to Zeon, not to the Federation, but to science. Her office was centrally-located, so she'd be relatively close to everything, and she strode in confidently, sitting down to work on her portion of the group's preliminary research proposal. She let the classical music draw her focus deep into her work; she'd have to work hard to finish in time for dinner with Gerald. Nadia Adelaide: 15VP Gained, Promoted to Petty Officer 2nd Class, No Damage A lone Federal solider clutched his bundle as he took careful steps through the heavy fog. The mist is so thick that the noon sun is only a gentle ambient light over him. Glancing from side to side the Federal soldier nervously continues his journey. Suddenly, the faint outline of something familiar appears in the fog. Overjoyed, the Federal soldier quicken his pace. "Hey Jonesy," greeted another Federal soldier. A few more soldiers looked up as Jonesy enterred the Listening Post. "Took you long enough," grumbled the sergeant," what did you get?" Jonesy grins as he reveals the contents of his bundle. "Just the best. Real New York pizza!" "Holy crap Jonesy," exclaimed one of the privates as the men crowded around the food," where did you get it?" "Ah, got the grain, cheese, and a couple of cans of tomatoes from the supply officer," explained Jonesy as he relished the attention he's getting," then I found an Italian guy who still had an oven working. Then a-bing, a-bang, and wham-o! Pizza." "Good job Jonesy," congratulated the sergeant," now grab a slice before it's gone. C'mon people this may be your only hot food for the next day or so." For a few minutes all that be heard is the sound of hungry men feasting contently. Then one of them looked up quizzily. "Hey Parker, did you fart again?" He got a punch in the arm in response. Everyone continued eatting until the sergeant noticed that Parker was still looking around. "Something wrong Private?" "Hey sarge, just listen." The entire group stopped moving. A few of them were about to take a bite from the hot greasy pizza when they too stopped and listened. For a moment, only silence and the gentle slooshing of water can be heard. Then a more mechanical rumble builds in tempo. Cries of alarm and cursing erupts from the group of Federal soldiers. They scramble to their stations, greasy fingers plucking at controls and headsets. The sergeant grabs a handie-talkie and starts barking at it. On the other end, a commissioned officer scratches notes on his pad and starts yelling at another radio set. "This is Delta Station!" replied New York's only Type 74 vehicle," We're starting to pick up vibrations too! Going off the scale!" "What about the Dish aircraft?!" demanded the officer. "Just finished refueling sir!" replied the control tower at the airfield," she'll be up in three minutes!" "We ain't got three minutes, what happen to the Dish on the Plain?" That Hillock is sitting off Governor's Island between the boroughs of Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Staten Island. A junior officer looked up from his radio station. "Sir, the Plain reported that it had to ground its aircraft due to the fog." "Well tell them to forget about the fog and get cracking! We got bandits incoming. Get me Marnery on the Godwin Austen now!" A lonely figure peered from the deck of the Blackout as the Gaw-class airborne battleship moved forward. Obersturmbannfuhrer Sebastian Brennan can make out part of the outline of the Manhattan skyscrappers through the fog now. He knows about this city and the lives that perished here when the Federal forces took it over. Now all the SS officer has to do to avenge them is to tear this place out of the Federal force's hands and crush it so it can be of no use to them whatsoever. How fortunate that Vanessa Okoye to bring this place to his attention at the right moment for them to clean up this mess. Brennan will redeem the ground force's failures. Starting with New York. Around the Blackout, Dopps flew in escort formations. A Komusai carrying the revered Cyan Thunder, Lieutenant Rhett Paruat, flys nearby. Below him, rolling over what is left of New Jersey is the Berkhalter and Liger. In their hulls, Major Esther Mackernan glanced over at Lieutenant Tony Knight. Her mind still echoes with last their conversation before Augusta. Other pilots like Master Sergeant Alek Irusk, Lieutenant Marko Dresner, and Sergeant Noelle Everett tended to their sophisticated mobile suits. Everything has to be ready. There are no half-measures. Somewhere in the waters of the coastal city, F-Troops Jukons are lurking like alligators in a swamp. The hour has come to take a big bite out of the Big Apple. Sebastian Brennan - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Rhett Paruta - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Esther Mackernan - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Tony Knight - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Alek Irusk - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Marko Dresner - 1 VP Gained, No Damage Noelle Everett - 1 VP Gained, No Damage |