Planet Pittsburgh; New York System; Republic of Liberty
A veritable dust bowl circling the never ending drain, spurred along by the raw needs of excess and debauchery. Such was Pittsburgh's lot in life and for no fault of its own. The hopeful spent their nights with eyes turned skywards - towards that gleaming blue jewel. The pragmatic adopted different means entirely to cope with their circumstances.
Not all of which were peaceful.
The No Time For Decompression shot down through the night sky like a bullet, plunging into what seemed like a ceaseless ocean of smokestacks and furnaces. Home to both factories that never slept, and a population choked by the ambitions of people who never stopped wanting more. Though from this altitude and in this light, there was an odd beauty to that ordered sprawl more than a stone's toss beneath the Kestrel.
Not much time was spared to take it in, since almost as soon as the freighter had reentered the atmosphere, it banked hard and burned for the outskirts. The engines groaned, and the hull joined them in kind. But reprieve came soon enough when a town appeared on the horizon. Sanston, patrolled once yearly by the LPI from orbit given its utter lack of importance and zero ability to contribute meaningfully towards lofty quotas.
But unbeknownst to their protectors, Sanston was effectively an embassy for the LFR to network with other dissenters on the planet. With its furthest fringe playing host to a hideout revealed only at close proximity and once the pilot of the freighter broadcasted this week's clearance code.
A muffled thud and sudden shake of the ship marked a successful landing in this underground abode.
Heikkinen was free to disembark now, and hopefully not vomit from the tumultuous journey.
As the freighter made it's final approach on the landing pad. Attu gave a quick glance over the planet's surface. Dust blowing against the porthole felt so alien to him. A myriad of distant flashes from the many planetary industrial installations felt dazzling.
-"What a shithole."
He mumbled to himself.
Disembarking, Attu felt light headed. He lost his balance for a brief second. Combat landing is not something he wasn't used to. It simply came unexpected. Firm landings are a necessity in conditions like those. Ensures that the gear has a good contact with the surface, eliminating risk of skidding. Attu learned those tricks back in his shuttle pilot days, when Avikko, his community on Planet Hamburg, still existed.
This also meant that this bunch were actually well trained. Something was amiss...
Attu habitually touched his hip, making sure his sidearm was still with him. He then smirked thinking about what he just did. Never in his life Attu was so deeply within hostile land. What was he actually gonna do with a single pistol?
He took a look around the underground installation, looking for anyone showing any sings of interest in his party's touchdown. Failing to find anybody, he turned to face the shuttle pilot.
The tan skinned and greying Kestrel pilot opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it with a toothy grin when he heard a familiar noise overhead. A whistling rumble backed by the quintessential growl of fighter propulsion, but dialed up to an extent that suggested overcharged engines were involved.
Engine exhaust momentarily blasted vacant sections of the landing zone as the previously speeding white and red silhouette came to a firm stop. Grav-locks kicked into gear and what seemed like a militarized pit-crew all moved into rehearsed positions all around the ship. The pilot that hopped down and strode out across the deck floor was dressed in an uncharacteristic white, black, and partly gold flight-suit. This piece of kit on open display did little to dispel the oddities, that being the resemblance of training and cutting edge gear.
A brisk removal of the helmet revealed that this was indeed the man who had summoned Attu here, and once in range to speak, he did just that. "Heikinnen." His right arm shot up to offer a firm handshake purely for formality, while the left kept his helmet secured. Coattails that hung a short distance from the waist of the suit swayed with every passing gust from the ventilation systems at varying points around them. Perhaps the only saving grace about the choice of venue. Though this did nothing to currently alleviate the visibly sweaty pilot that had previously identified as the Commander.
"Pardon my tardiness. I was on an impromptu rescue operation. Walk with me please, we can talk on the way to my office here." He seemed to dwell on the latter half of this sentence for a moment, as if suddenly reconsidering. "Actually the messhall might be more appropriate. Have you eaten?" It seemed like sincere politeness, punctuated by a casual attitude that made the situation feel manageable and possibly not as daunting as first conceived.
Attu genuinely smiled watching the commander's arrival. Still, visibly exhausted and almost motionless. His honest attitude was a welcome change from the usual crowd he was stuck with. After all, rank and stature is all that matters in Rhineland. To see a group commander get his hand dirty in a rescue operation was a welcome change.
"- Well, fu*k me, do apologise, you made me wait one, whole, fu*king minute!"
His English lacked any traces of usual rheinlandish accent. What really stood out in his speeach, was his deep voice. Attu reciprocated the handshake, looking briefly into man's eyes and giving a quick nod. To him, everything about the commander seemed genuine. Attu got visibly relaxed. His body movement got a notch more expressive.
- "I'm fine, but it ain't no way in hell I'm passing a free meal!"
He said dismissively with a toothy grin on his face, but bare mention of food visibly light up his eyes.
"-By the way..."
The man interrupted their walk with a gentle poke at the commander's arm.
-"...It's Hei-kki-nen."
Men continued their walk, with Heikkinen visibly glancing at the commander's ship, and his outfit.
He permitted an amused exhale at his mispronunciation but otherwise took it in stride. "Of course, Heikkinen." This time he made sure to get it right, not requiring more than just the one correction to get the dialect down to a large extent. There was even the vaguest of notions that the Commander knew Rheinland's native language. But what was more was the visible respect and even reverence people of all stripes appeared to give him. His tenure couldn't have been insignificant in duration or impact for people this free spirited to be content to defer to him.
This was no different or more apparent than in the messhall, because Damien and his apparent comrade were allowed to skip the line. Though despite this offer, he strictly refused and waited his turn before nudging Heikkinen to go first and work through the selection of the limited food items they had on display. The truly surprising fact was that genuine eggs were in stock, the apparent source of them was entirely unknown.
"I'll go save a seat while you pick out what you want." With that he lazily walked off to go lounge on an empty bench.
Attu joined the commander with a plate filled with every item on the menu and began hastily chewing trough his improvised meal.
-"So. You said you may have some questions for me..."
He mumbled, after an awkwardly long moment and a pair of loud chews, continuing his meal afterwards. However, before this interlocutor could answered he spoke again, this time interrupting his meal.
-"No. Wait. Actually... let me ask you a question first."
Heikkinen laid dow the cutlery, leaned back on his sit and crossed his arms. He then briefly looked around the room. His eyes stopped at one of the misfortunate folks, eating. What made him stood out in the crowd were his clothes. They were torn, and full of dust.
Contenplatively, he shook his head side to side before elaborating. "This is the ground floor of it all. Things at their ugliest and most honest. I want you to take in the misery and understand the purpose behind why these people are here and what they serve. Since if you intend to join us, it'll be your cause too. To put it simply - I brought you here to break apart your perspective as an outsider and to instead have you see things the way we do. Can't hope to truly be one of us if you can't relate to us, can you?" That came across as a loaded question, but there was nothing about Damien's body language to suggest like he was evaluating potential responses. But that was likely the perfect indicator of the fact that he undoubtedly was.
"-A simple name would suffice. That's all I asked for."
Attu leaned forward and continued his meal, interrupting it from time to time to speak.
-"Reminds me of what we had Munich. Minus the radiation."
The man quickly glanced at the portable interface on his left wrist, making sure the dosimeter's readings were indeed within the norm.
"-Remember the war? Our most esteemed New Berlin cirlce jerk would broadcast every week something about Libertonian citizens being kept in an absolute poverty, you know, trying to justify the invasion. Thought that was just bullshit, because who the f*ck believes the government? Guess they had a point. Just one. Oh, by the way. I have to admit your guys won culturally as well. New Berlin adopted your ideas of social policy. If you ever feel like taking a tour arround Sirious, go visit Hammersee. Same f*cking view..."
Attu paused his little speech to cut trough the harder piece of meat.
-"So, yeah. Can't say I'm the most empathetic son of a bitch in the universe, but I can relate."
The man got visibly more angry, as he struggled to chew and swallow the unbearably elastic piece of meet that he tried to cut just a moment ago.
"-At least your people have the balls to actually do something about it..."
Attu added after a long pause. He spoke slowly and quietly, clenching his teeth.
He listened intently, through every line and word but eventually supplied a small but firm correction at the very end. "Our people." An important, and fundamental distinction in perspective. And apparently the entire point of why Attu had been brought here.
Despite the fact that Damien hadn't picked out anything to eat, one of the messhall's occupants still paid him the kindness of bringing a chilled glass of his usual soda to the table. Passing him by thereafter with a smile and gentle pat on the shoulder. No time was wasted in taking an initial sip of that sugary blue fizzy drink. But it was set aside soon after, at least for now. "This is Pittsburgh by the way. But humor me. Let's say fate in all its good grace sees us win our war tomorrow. And our circumstances change overnight. What then? What will you do?." The intent behind this question was vague, and this was starting to become a running theme.
The question shook Attu to his very core. Not because his intentions towards the group were dishonest, but because of realisation that he genuinely had no answer. For the past four years, he never made a plan for his life that would exceed a couple of days: food, fuel, spare parts, shelter. Hell the man lived trough failed to take his life, but in return took away his future.
The man didn't speak. He limply leaned back again, visibly getting lost in his thoughts. After long silence, He finally met his eyes with Damen's.
-"Rest."
The man uttered a genuine smile. The façade of a cold, cynical man disappeared from Attu in that moment. Genuinity of this character is something Damien experienced for the first time.
-"What's the point of asking me where do I see myself in the next 15 to 20 years? ..."
This time, his voice wasn't as deep. He spoke quietly and his tone was less boastful.
-" ... For anyone I knew, Attu Heikkinen is dead. Bu he, like the stupid animal he is, just refuses to actually die."
Attu realised that the man he disrespectfully pointed at wasn't alone. he was now exiting the cafeteria, holding his little daughter's hand. Now he knew he was on planet Pittsburgh. He wondered, if one rumour about life in liberty turned out to be true, what about the others? What about those concerning this planet's biggest black market, quote-unquote, export item?
-"I have no future. Any speculations in this area are a waste of time... Let's make sure she has one."
He spoke, nearly mumbling, pointing at the pair with his head. Suddenly, the man straightened his posture. Attu's façade returned. His eyes squinted.
-"Suppose our circumstances change overnight and I'm no longer of use to you... What will you do?"
![[Image: GAy6bGA.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/GAy6bGA.gif)