The Lancia righted itself, thruster jets firing to level-off and bring the ship to level with the orientation of the nearby massive shipyard that hung in the sky above Malta. Her refit completed in the months prior, she had just spent the past number of weeks in the Taus, operating as a vanguard vessel for any encroaching targets of opportunity; always aware, always keenly observing. Now however, she had returned to Malta, having undergone her trial-by-fire and emerged the victor in two separate engagements with no damage. She was back now to undergo a full logistics shakedown, and receive her first compliment of Scimitar interceptor-kitted light fighters. Officially anyway. There were other plans in motion, other operations to undertake, other pieces to nudge subtly into place. Every action the ship undertook was always to serve some greater agenda, some grander scheme in the goings-on of the northern Omicrons.
'In that way it was very much an avatar - a reflection of the organization that it served.' Harry mused to himself, contemplating the accomplishment that was the ship for a moment as the elevator descended to Deck 4. The doors parted before him, exposing the hangar-bay beneath through plexi-glass observation ports. Up until now, the hangar bay was the Maintenance staff's oyster, a wide-open expanded storage bay containing little more than a pair of Dromedary-shuttles for crew transfer purposes, and a sizeable number of multi-colored cargo bins and heavy machinery, all strewn about the compartment. That was, until about a week ago- when the crew made aware of the incoming fighters and pilots to accompany them, that an increased effort was made to clear the bay out and make it ready for full operation. The floor - now polished and cleaned of any and all scuff marks and spills - was near spotless all the way from the floor beneath the window, to the aft interior wall. He smirked, enjoying for a moment the accomplishments the ship and her crew had made since the inception of the Sicily project- just how much had changed with the ship, and the organization that outfitted her had with it.
To his left was the door into the flight-control bunker; essentially the interior-facing control room for all incoming and outgoing fighter operations ship-wide. Inside were a trio of LSOs and a small handful of other crewmen milling around the room, preparing flight-operations plans and rosters for the incoming pilots that were scheduled to arrive in a few hours. Cane in hand, he approached the control officer nearest to the port-entryway he had just used, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Felix Rais. How are we in here today sir?" The young man - relatively meek in size and stature - looked up from the charts on his pad, back in Callahan's direction.
"So far? As well as can be expected sir, just prepping for later today, we should be about ready in here in about an hour or so. I can have our schedule forwarded up to your cabi--"
"I don't believe that'll be necessary- what I do need from you is a favor, a relatively minor one actually."
"Oh, uh sure.. sir. Are we talking a personal favor or the usual kind?"
"A bit of a mixture of both I'm afraid, though more the latter than otherwise."
Callahan hooked his cane along the edge of the desk where inlay the console next to Felix, and sat in the chair beside the young man. He relaxed in his seat, while retaining a dignified posture with his legs crossed and hands in his lap. A pause persisted as Felix awaited his answer- Harry simply stared forward for a few moments, eyeing the bay below for a time before finally speaking up.
"A dozen vessels are due aboard today as part of our official outfitting. We've spent the better part of this morning making ready for that. What we haven't made ready for is this--"
Another pause persisted, then Harry turned to face the man at his side.
"An additional two vessels will also be joining us today in roughly half an hour. One a Griffin light fighter with a pair of escort fighters to be waved off, the other will arrive shortly before - a Bayonet bearing friendly IFF. Both are to be handled by you and you alone, and no mention of it is to exist beyond this conversation. Both are to be guided to the aft-storage hangar, which will be cleared of all personnel besides a pair of guards that I've already sent that way. And if anyone asks any questions, tell them it is strictly need-to-know. Am I clear?"
"Bayonet and a Griffin to the aft-hangar. Absolutely sir, I'll call down and have the compartment cleared for you in just a moment."
Excellent.
Harry stood, offering the man at his side a brief toothless smile in thanks before nabbing his cane and walking on, back towards the way he came in.
---
In his personal lounge, one door disconnected from his own quarters, Callahan sat and sipped a glass, casually awaiting the arrival of his guest while idly swiping through operational files on a datapad in his lap to pass the time. He'd sent the guards below to escort his guest to this room a while prior, and now simply lounged, waiting, perusing, and listening to the control tower's communications over a wireless receiver he'd positioned on the end-table next to him. A simple meet-and-greet was more or less all that was on the docket for today, but little was being left to chance, as was standard operating procedure.
Some time passed, until the receiver blared to life:
"Contact on close-range: light fighter with Amalfi escorts on approach, CBDR, 10 minutes. "
---
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
Omicron Alpha, when she saw it for the first time Elisabeth was amazed something about the system caught her interest. That was months prior to this moment, back then she had been on a tranport being responsible for a whole shipment of military salvages. Now, sitting inside a much smaller vessel the system didn't loose much of its charm. More than one time she has cursed the Griffin she flew as it certainly was an older model some of its 'lesser important' systems, like the ones for navigation, simply refusing to work for some minutes every now and then. She grew to hate it but it was her only way to reach her destination.
As she now slowly approached Malta, escorted by a pair of Amalfi fighters, she looked over to the Lancia. It was smaller than any carrier she had seen before but at the same time much more elegant and not so bulky. During the time she was approaching the carrier, Elisabeth occupied herself with thinking of what kind of person this Harry Callahan is. Her sister did not tell her much except that he has her full trust but her thoughts get interupted as she had to begin the landing maneuver.
After it was savely inside the hanger and the landing was complete, the cockpit of the Griffin opened. Elisabeth, more or less jumping out of it. The thought of finally being free of that metal box was calming. A few moments later she was greeted by the guards that were sent to pick her and they began walking through the corridors of the Lancia. Two in front of and to two behind her, if anything this completely underlined that she was still on a warship. They arrived at the lounge and the guards let Elisabeth enter, the door closed after she entered.
"You must be Mister Callahan, I am pleased to meet you in person." From her looks she would definetly not been older than 23. She made a pretty relaxed impression, the slight nervousness she felt mostly hidden within her, only her voice would sound a bit more nervous than one would expect.
"Miss Elizabeth, I'll assume you've not had the honour yet: I'd like to welcome you to Malta"
He gestured to a seat opposite of his, and took a sip of his glass.
"I was terribly sorry to hear of the hardships you and your sister underwent within Bering, it's always a shame when allies fall to far more difficult circumstances. She was quite adamant about finding a safe haven for you, away from the myopic thinking of thinking of her employers and those around them. You're lucky to have such caring family members by your side, I'd say."
---
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
"Grazie, for both welcoming me and the words you spoke about my sister. She can be a bit stubborn when it comes to our family, she might have told you but we both are the last living members of the family von Ravensberg."
Elisabeth tried to give speaking Italian a try. She sat down opposite of Callahan, smiling thinly. There were only minor traces, like the very light shades around her eye, that would hint to how exhausted she felt from this rather long journey.
"As you already pointed out, I am very lucky to have her as my sister and I will have to find a way to thank her for arranging this."
"I've had limited time with which to consort with your sister but something tells me that you simply remaining safe might just be enough thanks. You know her better than I do though so I encourage you to use your best judgement."
He took another sip, and set the glass to the side on an end-table.
---
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
Elisabeth remained silent for a moment, thinking about the words he had spoken. She focused back on Harry, crossing her legs and leaning a bit more into the seat.
"Mister Callahan may I ask what is planned for me after this meeting? My sister remained silent on that matter."
"Well I suppose that depends entirely on you my dear- you're entirely capable of making your own decisions. I offered you shelter here under my organization's care, but if you're looking to do something else, I'm certain we can work something out. Did you have something specific in mind?"
---
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
Her gaze stopped on the glas, her mind trying to figure out what its contents may be for just the fraction of a second then she looked back at Callahan.
"If it would not be too much of a problem for you and your organistation then I would like to have a new identity and help you or your organistion out. I have combat expirience and would be willing to embrace the Orange Dream."
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