Her eyes devoured the words from the open book that was now being held in her hands. The lights flickered as the military transport shuttle shook, something that sliced the conversation between her marine 'escorts', courtesy of Edmund Steiner, no doubt.
Kaze Dagon continued to read, unfazed, as she was used to space travel, where debris, rock and dust could very well be in the path of spaceships. Moving at furious speeds, the shield would normally absorb the kinetic energy to allow a smooth ride. However bigger debris had more mass and managed to exchange that energy with the ship and bump them somewhat.
While normally this voyage would take an hour at most, Kaze Dagon ordered the pilot to forgo trade-lanes and to transform this simple transport detail into a shadow run, away from the normal routes. Three hours in, the military shuttle finally came into view of the HMS York, the veritable tip of the spear in the defense of New London, and also her seat when she was Commodore and Executive Commander of the 8th Resistance Fleet.
The shuttle inner warning lights turned red, signaling the approach to the York, urging the passengers to fasten their security harnesses and to stow away everything that was loose. She sighed, closing the book, and caressed the leather hard cover, finally placing it inside her military backpack. Books, while not a rarity, were seen as remnant of the old days. The ones that indeed were rare were the unique ones that made the travel from Sol, capable of being valued in the hundreds of millions of credits. This one however was quite the recent copy of such one, with the original being part of the Bretonian Crown regalia.
She leaned her head back and looked through the blast window, her eyes fixed at the York. It has been a week since she left New London, a week where she did her utmost best to guarantee that the Resistance would be sucessful. And alive when all of this ended.
"Acheronta movebo."
Kaze Dagon whispered to herself as the lights began to strobe, the final signal that this voyage was about to end.
Edmund had made his way to the conference room, far better to have this meeting here than in his office. A midshipman had informed him of the arrival of Kaze Dagon and he send the woman down to inform her that he was waiting. He didn't much care for brazen behaviour and he didn't much like Dagon already, she was argumentative, passive aggressive and borderline arrogant, traits that he simply had no time for. Still, he made a point to remind himself to take each and every person as they came. But she was here to be told off, how things would go during such a meeting remained to be seen.
She saluted back at the two marines that just allowed her to leave the transport. Looking around, no other marines coming towards her or officers. Two Templars were undergoing repairs, yet the repair crew was lax in their duty. A security officer was talking to one of the crew, like they were on off-duty hours. Which they weren't. The tip of the spear appeared to have a dull edge.
Her jaw tensed looking at this. She breathed in, to focus herself and not at the display around. Picking up her handbag, she allowed her nano-skin to disappear from the right hand, showing off the black metal hand. A reminder, to some. The bay-chief appeared from a side entrance and walked towards her, which threw the lax men around into a state of frenzy, as well the security officer that stood in attention.
Two minutes later, her backpack was stowed away and she was rising, again without escort, in the elevator to the conference room level. Still in her resistance fatigues, but with the bars displaying her rank and branch, she was out of place in the middle of those corridors. She walked towards the conference room, and knocked.
Admiral's Steiner voice was heard and she opened the right most door of the double door entrance. She placed herself in attention and saluted.
"Captain Kaze Nelson Reidman Dagon, reporting as ordered, sir."
He returned the salute and then signaled for her to enter the room properly. Close the door. he said in a low voice. When the door closed he began to speak in a controlled, almost robotic manner, his Rheinlandic accent coming across quite clearly Would you like to explain to me why you disobeyed orders and engaged in front line combat? Would you like to explain your failure to report this?
The typical Steiner lack of control. They could appear as statues almost, but their voice betrayed them fully. A small detail that Kaze has learned from observing Victor. Even if Edmund appeared to be better at controlling himself than Victor. She looked at Edmund, the eyes clearly fatigued, a symptom of not enough sleep. The cheeks were somewhat sunken as well, thus not having a proper intake of food. Her eyebrow rose as the questions were asked. Breathing in calmly, she started to reply.
"In the offensive there were not enough pilots to fly the B-27-E's that were assigned to drop the close range arty shields. I was forced to choose between following your orders and allowing a company to cave in and die, or to do my duty."
She straightened herself, flexing her right hand behind her back, while she remembered the crash, and how she decided not stop there, while she removed the exo combat suit from a dead resistance soldier.
"As for not reporting my actions, the out of planet link is still not at full capacity, being used only for priority comms. I fail to see how my participation can be classified as a priority, sir. To add to that, I knew very well I would be recalled as soon the knowledge of my participation would reach your hands. And those men and women need all the help they can get, sir."
Relaxing somewhat, she eyed Admiral Steiner and tensed her jaw, knowing very well what was to come. She would pay whatever debt or penalty there was to be paid, she decided so back in Leeds, for it was the right decision in her mind, through and through. Yet, her path and belief did not allowed her to act in complacency. Or to assume defeat, no matter what. It was what brought her back home at last, more than two years ago. Thus, bait and read.
"Is that all sir?"
She asked without removing her eyes and rising her eyebrow again, showing off an arrogant look.
And yet the BBC can easily relay a message about your exploits within the hour? Rubbish. He sat down and produced his pipe, stuffing it while thinking about a number of other things he could be doing. I sent you there because believed you would be a suitable person for the job. Those men who charged the hill may have died yes, but it is not your Job to shoulder that responsibility, your job... your duty as you so aptly put it, is to obey the orders of senior officers, the chain of command. That being said, it was a successful operation and it ended with a decent moral boost, so taking that into consideration, you'll be barred from returning to the surface of Leeds and confined to the Ark Royal for a week before you can fly. He looked at her with cold grey eyes before finishing Now you may go.
"Our duty is to Bretonia, the Queen and to the People, Admiral. You may have forgotten that while you were busy stuffing your pipe."
Her face was haughty, serious, her eyes boring into Edmund's skull, almost like he was a target. She took two steps forward and released her hands from her back, placing something in her back pocket. The black metal hand was in plain view at last.
"You are running a loose ship, Admiral. Your men, lax, in the front lines. Ships not being serviced. No security worth of its name. All of this in the front lines. What should be the example to follow, it is quite the opposite."
Kaze placed her hands on the table that separated both of them, that may very well not be between them. He could swear he saw her right eye glinting in a green hue.
"Soldiers have died. Bretonian men and women are still dying. Yes, it is our responsibility. Every single one of them. And as for your house arrest, I fail to see evidence for such."
He stopped what he was doing and looked her squarely in the eye before rising to meet her, Don't, ever, make the assumption that I have forgotten my duty, captain. This ship and it's crew are exhausted fighting this war, You may have forgotten that while you were gallabanting in the Sigmas.
He didn't care about her reputation, he knew she couldn't do anything, he held the rank and the authority and he'd be dammed before he let her do whatever she wanted simply because. You once lectured my brother on the virtues of showing respect to those in higher stations, perhaps it's time you took your own advice. Believe me, if I wanted you under house arrest, you'd know it, as for evidence... he paused, throwing down an unreleased photograph of Kaze on Leeds that had been edited into a motivational poster There's your bloody evidence. Now it just looks like you're chasing medals.
She looked at the picture at the table. Her mind raced to find the moment when it was taken. Right after she got out of the crashed B-27-E. By the graffiti, it was already on a wall somewhere. And most likely copies all over Bretonia. Her jaw tensed. Her actions reached a scope Kaze did not wanted or planned. This forced a change on her predisposed outlined path. A symbol. A bloody icon. Something a monster should never truly be. Something she did not wanted to be. Her bionic hand opened, intent on crushing the picture, but as her feelings started to boil, her hand dug deeper into the heavy Kingwood table and she pulled it up and threw it away, crashing onto the wall, like it was a small plastic toy.
The crumpled picture, still in the palm of her hand, stood as a reminder of her failure to stay in the shadows as she looked at it. So be it, she thought. Another mask to be, the spotlights on her again, just like Liberty and Gallia. Contingencies would have to be activated, her work would have to be doubled to guarantee that Bretonia would prevail. No longer the faceless soldier in a faceless war. Her eyes rose to meet the startled Admiral which had dropped his pipe. Crumbling the paper with all the force that her bionic hand could muster, it fell to the floor and she knelt to catch the pipe from the floor, offering it to the Admiral, that tentatively in all that silence and staring, picked it up from her hand. She got up and brushed her hair to the side in a swift head motion, looking finally at him again.
"Your brother also defends that rank does not warrant immediate respect. Something you should know very well about him."
Kaze cleaned an imaginary speck of her black metallic hand as she spoke, as she remembered that talk with Victor more than a year ago. How the tables have turned, how the universe continues to spin without regard and how it keeps on surprising.
"And you know very well I was not gallivanting in the Sigmas. If I could, I would have returned in the very next day. But the universe decided not to grant me that wish."
With that said, Kaze stood once again in attention, hands behind her back, like a proper soldier, steady and calm, much unlike the display and setting of the room, with the broken meeting table and a slightly taken aback Admiral, clutching his pipe.
"The men are tired, the men are ragged, the men are exhausted."
She took a step forward, towards the Admiral, in a voluntary manner, standing upright but still looking at him, dead in the eye, boring his skull, never flinching. Those dark brown eyes fixed on its target, not like a predator, but as resolution born into matter.
"I am not. Allow me to be transferred to the York, sir. Allow me to do my duty at the side of those ragged men, under your command, until the Gauls are pushed back as I know they will be."
Denied he said turning away and looking out the window, staring out towards Southampton McIntire wanted you in Newcastle, so that's where you are going to go. You will advise Commodore Brooks and help her carry out her duties, but you will not serve on this ship for the foreseeable future.
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