An audible thump was heard as the docking collar retracted onto the station. Then, vibrations were felt all across the corridor as the lumbering whale departed. Hands joined behind her back, Isabelle stood in place and reflected upon the moment that had just occured... And drifted in her thoughts, as the station intercom confirmed that the Catport had departed. She relished those few and far-between breaks, and she came to the difficult conclusion that she had liked the girl. She was used to her soldiers' stone-faced professionalism and to the Sirians' angry gesticulations or squirmy supplications. Such light-heartedness in a situation that many would have found (and often did) disquieting at best was news to her. She reasoned that Sombra must have gone through hell and back in service to what she now suspected was her passionate (albeit shared) lover, which probably had made her less susceptible to tense situations. Or she was good at concealing her emotions to avoid embarrassing her master ?
All items were likely. Pleasant and easy-going ; she could have been a good friend, she heard her father say. Finally, a Sirian peasant who's worth a little more than the air she breathes, she heard her mother say.
They rarely agreed on anything, even in her mind.
Then her aide-de-camp cleared his throat, and she turned to face him.
"What is it ?" she asked softly.
"Amiral... While you were interrogating Hookieur, the Grand Maréchal called in for your report..."
He paused. She stared him into not pausing.
"...Twice."
It ended. Isabelle became Chanteloup again, as the pressure returned to her shoulders ; her relaxed stance gave way imperceptibly to her usual tense, upright manners. Her world returned to a list of problems she had to solve, alone and with the fate of millions resting in the balance. She had always loved it, but she loved it a little less right now. Still, she grinned. The moment has passed. Back to work.
"Lieutenant, get me a direct line to the Etat-major. Don't stop until you can patch me directly to the Maréchal. And get me a coffee," she barked at her aide.
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.