Chapter Ten: Arc Light!

[Psychie]

Toph takes a deep breath as she looks down at the Captain, feeling good despite feeling like she's been run through the wringer a dozen times. Making sure that these special knives are all properly back in Broo hands, the very tired doctor wipes a clean cloth across her forehead and is not surprised to see our soaked in sweat.

She turns to her fellow Wild Cards and says, "Well hot damn. That was not the longest stretch at the operating table I've ever done, but it was rather stressful. I am pleased at the outcome. Everyone, thank you. I doubt that without your help that I could have gotten the Captain out without harming him. Taymee, Beema, the whole team owes you big time. Mario and Hercules, you two can count yourselves as having done an outstanding job helping. Now, I am in dire need of a shower and sleep."

Heading out of the operating room, Toph leaves the final bit of clean-up to the waiting Sams and goes to where her mother and Hitomi are watching. With a tried smile, she says, "Ok, let's not do that again. I'm beat. Hitomi, thank you for the music. It helped more than you may know. Mother? I have about a gazillion questions for you, but not right now. I'm about to drop. But it is so good to see you, to be able to touch you again. I missed that."

 

[Sherwood]

Mario is tired to the very core of his being, which is somewhat surprising to him since he wasn't doing anything physically strenuous. Perhaps the amount of metal focus needed to keep everyone safe was more draining than he had originally thought.

But now the Captain is out of his ruined armor and is still in one piece and not bleeding out onto the floor. That is an absolute win in his book, no matter how exhausted he is. "Ma'am, I'm just glad that I was able to help, even the little bit that I did. You were the one with the knives in your hand; I was just a helper doing what you said. I'd say the credit belongs to you."

He steps back and stretches, feeling his spine pop and crack. "Ah, much better. I gotta say, some food followed by some rack time sounds good to me. C'mon, guys. Let's go see what we can find in the mess hall before we all drop."

 

[Kaerri]

Spoiler: Lt. Eadric Braidwood

Character Sheet
Action Points: 9/9
Bonus Action Points: 0

As the door to the Mindbender medical room slides open, Cal lets out a short laugh. "Heh. I get it, ma'am. Captain Drake used to shoo us out when he needed to concentrate. You're just doing the same for the Wild Cards." They leave together. As they exit, anyone looking in their direction notices a single Sam unit standing stock-still watching you from outside through the window. How long has "he" been there? None can tell.

Eadric offers Cal and Commander Kirin a wave as they leave. With his attention now turned in that direction, he notes the suited person standing at the window. A guard? Someone to fetch anything they needed? But as has already been done more than once, radios suffice to make requests, and anyone on the receiving end can arrange for delivery as is convenient for them. So a messenger isn't necessary. A guard then, probably. But to keep others out? In which case, why watch those inside? Curiosity? Or to keep themselves in? That doesn't seem necessary under the circumstances. From what has been said earlier, this seems a limited-access room, not a containment area. To keep others out, then, but leniently, hence the watchman watching the proceedings inside rather than anyone approaching. A reminder of exclusivity, not a strict guard.

That minor point settled to his satisfaction, at least until further data caused adjustment, Eadric returns his own attention to within the room. To make sure Toph, Mario, and Hercules have the space they needed (not to mention focus, as Commander Kirin pointed out), he moves farther away from the "operating table," ending up near to Auxiliary Specialist Cera.

Cat-like, Taymee licks her teeth. "Must prepare Kayliss now."

Kayliss blades in eager fists, Taymee and Beema face each other. Beema cannot help but shoot "Hurk-yoo-leez" one very happy beaming Beema smile - she is helping! Helping in something big! - before returning to follow Taymee's every move.

The suited person at the window is now quite forgotten in light of this, as is practically everything in the room except the Broo, Toph, and the work they're doing. There is a smile on his face much like Beema's, though for different reasons. Being permitted to watch what amounted to a religious ritual, and on such short acquaintance! Eyes and ears wide open, he takes in everything that's happening as well as he can.

"Rakidas..." murmurs the taller, deadlier Beastie with a frown.

"Paaan-Galactiiic!" whispers little Beema at her with a chiding fierceness.

More of the Broo language for his mental file! And again the mention of "Pan-Galactic" as an apparent reminder to speak English. A courtesy for the non-Broo who were present? It seems likely.

Without warning, her eyes snap open, stark white and frightening to behold. "Hrrr!" Irritated, she growls from deep within her throat. It is quite the savage inhuman sound! And then, softly, gingerly, a strange smile causes her mouth to curl as she relaxes once more.

"Ahhh!" Beema whispers excitedly, heard by all unless interrupted. "Who you get?"

Taymee's head tilts oddly to one side in a lopsided grin that does not seem like her. "Sakar!"

Beema's feet tap happily. Her face is filled with suspense. "Ahh! Hee hee! Sakar numbah one! Him say yes? Yespleaseyes?"

"Him say... Pan-Galactic... 'Beema follow Sakar now.'"

Definitely contact with another spirit or spiritual being, it seems. (Eadric is quite willing to believe in the spiritual, though he has little personal experience with it, and even more willing to accept others' beliefs. What he's seeing now may not be conclusive evidence, but it will do for the present!) Now, he wonders, is it to be only contact, communication, and a transference of the power necessary for the enspiriting of the Kayliss blades? Or something more intimate, like a possession? Western and particularly Christian/Catholic religious beliefs tended to think of possession as a negative thing, if not outright evil, but other cultures and religions felt differently. Eadric himself believes, insofar as he has need of belief (it hasn't come up much before), that intent and permission are the primary factor in deciding whether it's good or evil; in this case, Taymee is clearly issuing an invitation, and the mysterious "Sakar" who has replied probably did so to help (and Beema's commendation is not to be taken lightly either). Of course, judging "good" and "evil" in another culture is a slippery path, and not one an anthropologist should be treading. But at this point Eadric wants to learn about the Broo as potential friends, not just study subjects, and that leads to different observations, all of which are valid as long as he doesn't let them interfere with each other.

Added to the mental file: "Sakar," male name, spiritually-contacted entity. Still unclear whether it's a living Broo, an ancestor, or some other kind of spirit, but Eadric is leaning away from its being a living person. Something about the way Taymee and Beema are talking about Sakar doesn't quite seem like they're reaching someone on the ship, though perhaps it's someone on their home planet.

"Beema follow Sakar now." Does that mean Beema will also make contact with him? The answer will come very soon.

This gets the cutest piping squeak of excitement you have heard out of Beema yet as Taymee crouches into a very barbaric-looking, very masculine, stance - she looks like she could suddenly leap, strike, and kill at any moment. So deep is her stance, perhaps your own leg muscles begin to burn just looking at her. Beema blinks her eyes rapidly and a gentle orange radiance warmly comes to life as she studies Taymee intently, mimicking the older Broo's every move. The glow from Beema's eyes fall upon Taymee's rich black skin and fur and does not reflect back.

Even on short acquaintance, Taymee's stance seems different from before. Not the combat-oriented aspect of it (that, he would fully expect from her) but she seems less feminine somehow. Is "Sakar" taking over? Beema is indeed "following" as instructed, further evidence that Sakar is now "driving the bus" as one of Eadric's literature professors put it, where Taymee's body is concerned.

Then for just a moment, perhaps unable to help themselves now, they slip into their own language, this time without complaint from either of them.

Taymee's voice suddenly gets much lower, deeper, and... well... more man-like than you have ever heard it. "Beeeee-MA! Ooch-yar!" she commands.

"Sakar! Kos!"

"KAISH!"

Despite the train of thought that has been leading Eadric to suspect that Sakar is assuming control of Taymee's body, it startles him to hear the change of voice. Possession, surely! He adds "Ooch-yar," "Kos," and "Kaish" to his Broo-language list. There isn't enough evidence to guess at specific meanings, but Taymee -- or rather, Sakar -- is clearly issuing commands, and Beema acknowledging them. Eadric wonders at the (unprotested) change to Broo (is that what they call their own tongue? He'll have to ask.). Are they too focused on the ritual to translate? Some people formed their thoughts in their native language first, then translated it to the one they wanted to speak in. That could take time (and attention) the Broo simply didn't have right now. (Eadric himself tended to think in the language he was trying to speak in, unless he was translating for someone else.) Or had they just forgotten? Either possibility seemed equally likely. And probably it didn't matter much. No one else present needed to understand, after all -- though Eadric wanted to, very much!

Immediately, the Broo females begin to move and move with undeniable purpose. They do not stop. Taymee begins shifting and slashing through the air with full power, full speed - your being soldiers, you have no illusions that anything getting cut by that isn't likely to remain attached for long. Beside Taymee, looking small and incredibly happy, a completely-focused Beema mimics the same movements just a hair behind the Rainbow Daemoness's ruthless strikes.

Neither Aikido nor HEMA did much with katas or forms, but Eadric has seen other styles use them, at exhibitions and the like. This doesn't look like a form at all, but a sort of combat simulation, something like he would do himself with sword and training dummy. Sakar is clearly a master at combat, even in someone else's body. He watches intently, not so much to learn the style for himself, but as part of all that is going on. And, to be honest at least with himself -- to see Taymee's honed body move so impressively. (Not that he isn't also watching Beema, but of course that's a different kind of interest.) A small part of him hopes Taymee/Sakar are careful not to hit anyone, but the rest of him, seeing the demonstrated skill, knows there's likely small chance of that.

Spoiler: What I listened to while writing all of this post, though it's more suited to after this spoiler than before

At some point when it is obvious even to the untrained eye that Hiram Sharp is going to make it, there comes an unseen burst of what can only be called... a joyous force.

Spoiler: Kaerri.

Eadric instantly recognizes this force. Because he has met it face-to-face.

"My protocol..." he hears only once more, "... is complete!"

All of the Wild Cards in the room feel that singular and brief surge of something... suddenly rising... lifting... carrying its way upward and onward... as if it is no longer needed here. There is a sensation of fulfilled purpose and ultimate contentment.

And then it is gone.

The voice and feelings of Captain Sharp's megasuit catch Eadric quite by surprise, pulling him completely out of observation mode. Earlier, he had felt sadness in sympathy with the entity he had spoken to in that strange blue reality, but the change from that entity's guilt and sorrow to this utter joy strikes him deeply. That he has played even a small part in bringing about the change (to say nothing of the fate of the man within the suit) only intensifies his reaction. Tears seep down his cheeks, but he's smiling. Whatever it is that he had spoken to, it is no longer sad, no longer unfulfilled, no longer mourning its balked purpose. Now it soars to a destination unknown, contented and at peace. He silently wishes it well on its journey.

Once Toph is done, Captain Sharp has been reasonably cleaned up, in a fresh new bed (there are two in the Mindbender; for the guys to carry him over is easily done for soldiers in their shape). There is the addition of a UEEF space-age version of an IV delivering much-needed hydration, salt, sugar, electrolytes, or whatever UEEF might use to provide its patients to give them that boost they need to recover.

Again Eadric stays back; there remains little room to work and Mario and Hercules are more than equal to the task of moving the captain to the other bed (and Toph, of course, more qualified to start the IV than Eadric is). If there's call for his assistance, however, he responds unhesitatingly and then gets out of the way again.

One moderately-winded Taymee and one very exhausted Beema sit smiling on the Mindbender Room's floor, Taymee's Kayliss blades flawlessly cleaned and returned to their sheathes by their mistress. The Broo are nothing short of silently satisfied.

While the others see to Captain Sharp's settling-in, Eadric looks back at the Broo. They have done an impressive job for so long! Eadric is surprised to see just how much time has passed. Beema's exhaustion is perfectly understandable. That Taymee is not in a similar state is less so. She must have a great deal of endurance! He studies her in particular, looking for signs that Sakar has gone back to ...wherever he had been when called, and that Taymee's posture and movements are now entirely her own.

You can spend a little more time here if you'd like to tie up any loose ends. But.. do you think is it time for your characters to leave the Mindbender Room and Sickbay and grab a much-needed dinner in the Mess Hall? It should still be open if you do not dally.

Things now seem over. Eadric approaches the Broo. "All good?" he asks. "Want help?" Whether they just need a hand back to their feet or someone to lean on (or, frankly, anything, though he hasn't a clue where to find whatever else they might need), he's ready.

He steps back and stretches, feeling his spine pop and crack. "Ah, much better. I gotta say, some food followed by some rack time sounds good to me. C'mon, guys. Let's go see what we can find in the mess hall before we all drop."

"I could do with something to eat myself," Eadric confesses, "and I did very little but watch! I can only imagine how tired you must be, especially Toph." Despite his words, he's been doing rather a lot of mental work himself: observing, analyzing, sorting and filing his observations and analysis for later reconsideration. He has quite a good memory, but he still wants to write down what he's learned in the past seven (!!) hours. That will have to wait until later, probably just before bedtime. And definitely after he's acquired something to write with, and on, he remembers wryly. Wonder where my luggage has got to? Still at the base?

Just outside the Mindbender Room, things are quiet. You see two figures - Commander Kirin and that very same Sam unit, still watching. Cal is out cold in his bed behind them with the rest of his Adamantium ne'er-do-wells. Hitomi can be seen drifting from patient to patient.

Eadric glances out the window to see Commander Kirin and the watching suited figure. "Either before or immediately after I eat, however," he adds reflectively, "I really ought to speak to someone in authority about my being here at all. Not to mention my not being where I'm assigned to be."

 

[Sherwood]

Eadric glances out the window to see Commander Kirin and the watching suited figure. "Either before or immediately after I eat, however," he adds reflectively, "I really ought to speak to someone in authority about my being here at all. Not to mention my not being where I'm assigned to be."

Mario looks over at Eadric and says, "If you are a Traverser, then you belong with us here. We are on the cutting edge, and we need every Traverser that we can get. I don't know who you should be speaking to, but Captain Sharp is a good one to start with. He really knows his stuff. C'mon, come with us. We'll show you the way to the mess hall and get you a room to crash in."

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

Heading out of the operating room, Toph leaves the final bit of clean-up to the waiting Sams and goes to where her mother and Hitomi are watching. With a tried smile, she says, "Ok, let's not do that again. I'm beat. Hitomi, thank you for the music. It helped more than you may know. Mother? I have about a gazillion questions for you, but not right now. I'm about to drop. But it is so good to see you, to be able to touch you again. I missed that."

Hitomi gives Toph a quick and warm hug. The taller Japanese woman gazes at Toph, genuinely proud of her. "Nice work, doctor," she says as she moves to the doorway of the Mindbender. "I relayed the news of your success and your fellow Traverser, Mackenzie replied that she thinks you did a great job."

Zyorna Kirin, however, waits without a word. Just a small smile on her face from a woman who never smiles without reason and whose actions often speak louder than her words. Case in point as Momma Kirin produces a liter-sized container for liquid made of ceramic and steel (something you would put something in if you wanted to keep it warm) and a cup. Opening the container, she pours liquid into the cup. Being of Japanese descent and being this lady's kid, Toph knows precisely what she is being served at a glance.

Spoiler: Being this lady's kid.

Green tea (decaf), served however the Toph that Zyorna last saw years ago, liked. Zyorna would often serve a decaf to help Toph have a good night's sleep.

Zyorna offers the warm tea with a look that seems to hint that she is proud of her daughter and glad she was successful.

. With his attention now turned in that direction, he notes the suited person standing at the window. A guard? Someone to fetch anything they needed? But as has already been done more than once, radios suffice to make requests, and anyone on the receiving end can arrange for delivery as is convenient for them. So a messenger isn't necessary. A guard then, probably.

This guard seems not to move at all.

Tears seep down his cheeks, but he's smiling. Whatever it is that he had spoken to, it is no longer sad, no longer unfulfilled, no longer mourning its balked purpose. Now it soars to a destination unknown, contented and at peace. He silently wishes it well on its journey.

Not long after this occurs, a soft white tissue is unobtrusively presented to Eadric. The hand that delivers it belongs to the Ura-Meltrandi in the room. Cera's eyes are blood-red and calm. Like Zyorna, she does not speak, allowing her actions to speak for her.

Things now seem over. Eadric approaches the Broo. "All good?" he asks. "Want help?" Whether they just need a hand back to their feet or someone to lean on (or, frankly, anything, though he hasn't a clue where to find whatever else they might need), he's ready.

Beema is nigh-unconscious and Taymee seems closed in meditation. Her posture seems to imply she is giving deep thanks to... something perhaps no longer in the room with you. When the Rainbow Daemoness comes out of it, looks up, and recognizes Eadric, her meditative pose fades as she slowly but certainly reverts to the sunflower-eyed, softly-smiling, unthreatening creature she was just before she intimately embraced him hours ago.

When Eadric offers help, Taymee's head does not tilt in growing confusion as she had when he first addressed her. Instead, she opens her fanged mouth to speak and then pauses in frustration. "Rakidas..." she mutters to herself.

"P-- p-- pa-a-a-n gaaa-laak!" peeps a blasted Beema before fatigue takes her in its gentle hold.

Taymee looks over to Hercules and then to Beema. Something is troubling her but she does not seem to be able to give voice to what it is. Evidently unwilling to just sit and mope about it, Taymee leans down, picks Beema up as if the girl weighed no more than a wet beach towel, and drapes the youngest Broo across her fit shoulders in a "Fireman's carry."

Spoiler: Fireman's Carry

Taymee stands, turns, and looks straight into Eadric's eyes. Her sunflower-golds gently merge into a grassy-green color right before the Canadian's own eyes. She gazes deeply at him - or perhaps in him because that is what it feels like. Then suddenly, her curiosity sated, she turns and walks toward what looks like some kind of jacuzzi in the Mindbender room. There is water inside and you get the feeling it is warm water. She is lowering Beema into the calm water when you hear another female's voice calmly ring out.

"No way, my dear Beastie." It is Hitomi. The veteran has her arms crossed and is staring right at Taymee who freezes in place but shows no sign of guilt. One ear flicks up as she tilts her head a little.

"That bath is for Captain Sharp. You two--" Hitomi indicates another such portable tub in the far end of the Sickbay, "-- are welcome to hop in there."

"'Tanky,' Taymee replies with closed eyes and a short bow. She looks to Hercules and then to Eadric. "Noms? You haz?"

"I has," Hitomi offers again. "I've been told if I don't feed you two soon, I'll start missing medical supplies as you try to find out what's edible in here. Bath time, girls. Lt. Braidwood?" Hitomi looks to her left and points out one of the Traversers. UEEF Petty Officer Mario Zuko if your memory serves.

Eadric glances out the window to see Commander Kirin and the watching suited figure. "Either before or immediately after I eat, however," he adds reflectively, "I really ought to speak to someone in authority about my being here at all. Not to mention my not being where I'm assigned to be."

"I don't know who you should be speaking to, but Captain Sharp is a good one to start with. He really knows his stuff. C'mon, come with us. We'll show you the way to the mess hall and get you a room to crash in."

Once again, Hitomi appears to be on the ball, at least on this topic of conversation. "Arrangements have already been made. I'll explain more in the Mess? Go ahead. I'll wrap up here. Sam?"

Finally, the "guard" figure that Eadric noted moves! He turns toward Hitomi. Just like the last guy who wore a suit like that, he speaks in an odd American accent - Californian Beach Bum one might call it. And he sounds just the other guy too!

"Like, what can I do for yuh, doc?"

"If you're finished, give me a hand in here?"

"Suuure! Anything to lend a hand."

Looking pleased but busy, Hitomi makes "shooing" motions to all of you. "Toph?" she calls out to her fellow doctor and more. "Any chance you could put together a plate for me? Anything you would eat in readiness for the Jeet Kune Do class you'll be taking tomorrow if I have my say."

After asking a Sam or two the way, the Wild Cards find themselves in the Mess Hall. There aren't a lot of Broadsword crew down here right now. Some wear the UEEF CVR-3 body armor that the Sams and Samanthas are using - you believe them to be security personnel. They keep to themselves unless approached, but it is the cook who is quite happy to see you.

"Hey! 'Bout time you Wild Cards got down here!" says a young and well-fed Asian-American petty officer who looks to be in great shape. "The Commander is back! She called me and told me not to close up until your squad got down here! Is it true you had something big to do with bringing her back after our latest battle with the Invid?" He opens his arms to the Sams in the kitchen behind him. "Anything you want! If I can make it, it's yours! C'mon! What are you in the mood for?"

Whatever you order, this guy does his level best to make it reality. Soon, all of you including Hitomi, Zyorna, Cera, and Trouble (purring like a race car with his own little dish of tuna) are dining (hopefully) to your heart's content. You have privacy, but whenever a new face walks by, Zyorna is excitedly interrupted with, "OH MY GOD! I THOUGHT YOU WOULD NEVER WAKE UP! YOU'RE ALIVE! I'M SO HAPPY! I GOTTA TELL EVERYBODY!" Commander Kirin takes this in stride. She knows as well as anyone that the Broadsword and crew are extremely fortunate to be intact at all. She gets this from anyone wearing a UEEF uniform but no one in a fully-suited CVR-3 armor unit (whom the Wild Cards know to be Sams).

Eadric realizes soon that not one of them besides the commander appears to be over 25 years of age.

All of the Wild Cards have some time before nature comes a knockin' with its Giant Sleep Hammer ("right in yer faaace!"). What do you talk about?

 

[Kaerri]

Spoiler: Music I listened to while writing

Tears seep down his cheeks, but he's smiling. Whatever it is that he had spoken to, it is no longer sad, no longer unfulfilled, no longer mourning its balked purpose. Now it soars to a destination unknown, contented and at peace. He silently wishes it well on its journey.

Not long after this occurs, a soft white tissue is unobtrusively presented to Eadric. The hand that delivers it belongs to the Ura-Meltrandi in the room. Cera's eyes are blood-red and calm. Like Zyorna, she does not speak, allowing her actions to speak for her.

Startled by the unexpected assistance, Eadric turns to smile at Cera, and nods in acceptance and thanks. He dries his face but keeps the tissue in his hand for the moment.

Beema is nigh-unconscious and Taymee seems closed in meditation. Her posture seems to imply she is giving deep thanks to... something perhaps no longer in the room with you.

Sakar? Eadric wonders. It seems likely. Or perhaps whatever entity, force, or circumstance has made the connection possible in the first place. Either way, he likes that Taymee has chosen to offer the courtesy.

When the Rainbow Daemoness comes out of it, looks up, and recognizes Eadric, her meditative pose fades as she slowly but certainly reverts to the sunflower-eyed, softly-smiling, unthreatening creature she was just before she intimately embraced him hours ago.

When Eadric offers help, Taymee's head does not tilt in growing confusion as she had when he first addressed her. Instead, she opens her fanged mouth to speak and then pauses in frustration. "Rakidas..." she mutters to herself.

On the plus side, he's managed to effectively communicate on the first try. On the other hand, Taymee doesn't seem to be able to reply effectively, at least in English Pan-Galactic. He sympathizes with her frustration, but having little clue as to what she wants to say, he simply waits patiently to see if she can find the words she's searching for. Something to do with Hercules? Beema's suggestion that they "climb" him afterwards? Which the younger Broo seems incapable of, at present.

Taymee stands, turns, and looks straight into Eadric's eyes. Her sunflower-golds gently merge into a grassy-green color right before the Canadian's own eyes. She gazes deeply at him - or perhaps in him because that is what it feels like. Then suddenly, her curiosity sated, she turns and walks toward what looks like some kind of jacuzzi in the Mindbender room.

Eadric smiles, wondering what the grass-green color means. Probably not another hug? Her eyes had remained gold (but had started to glow!) before the last one. No glowing, and green. It seems friendly still, at least. And whatever it means, Taymee had what she wanted from the long look. Good enough for now. He doesn't offer further help; she's clearly able to carry little Beema unassisted, and seems confident in her ability to do whatever's needed for the bath.

"No way, my dear Beastie." It is Hitomi. The veteran has her arms crossed and is staring right at Taymee who freezes in place but shows no sign of guilt. One ear flicks up as she tilts her head a little.

Except identify the proper place, it would seem. But that's probably not her fault. Eadric himself hadn't noticed either of the bathtubs until this moment, not that he'd been looking for one. He notes that Taymee doesn't seem to think herself in the wrong, just mistaken in her destination, and that she accepts Hitomi's correction with perfect equanimity. Something to be learned about both women from that interaction -- Hitomi isn't angry, merely clarifying boundaries. He watches the Broo leave with something like regret, but consoles himself with the knowledge that there are others aboard this ship, and perhaps soon he'll get the chance to speak with one of the others. Or perhaps these same two, at a later time.

Lt. Braidwood?" Hitomi looks to her left and points out one of the Traversers. UEEF Petty Officer Mario Zuko if your memory serves.

Mario looks over at Eadric and says, "If you are a Traverser, then you belong with us here. We are on the cutting edge, and we need every Traverser that we can get. I don't know who you should be speaking to, but Captain Sharp is a good one to start with. He really knows his stuff. C'mon, come with us. We'll show you the way to the mess hall and get you a room to crash in."

Eadric nods and smiles at Mario. "Thanks. I admit, I'd really like to stay, myself. Surely there's a way to make it work, especially if you need me more than Antarctica Base does -- which it sounds like you do. I've only today found out what a Traverser is, and I still don't fully understand, but I'll do my best." He glances at the sleeping Sharp. "But I think we ought not bother him until the doctors have cleared it. I don't want to run afoul of either of them!"

Looking pleased but busy, Hitomi makes "shooing" motions to all of you. "Toph?" she calls out to her fellow doctor and more. "Any chance you could put together a plate for me? Anything you would eat in readiness for the Jeet Kune Do class you'll be taking tomorrow if I have my say."

"Thanks, Hitomi!" He starts to wave, but remembers he's still got the tissue in his hand. Instead he waves with his other hand, then folds up the tissue and tucks it in his pocket. As the group leaves, Eadric notes that both doctors study Jeet Kune Do; he wonders if he'll be able to find fellow Aikido or HEMA practitioners for his own continuing education, or if Toph and/or Hitomi would mind him attending their class.

Finally, the "guard" figure that Eadric noted moves! He turns toward Hitomi. Just like the last guy who wore a suit like that, he speaks in an odd American accent - Californian Beach Bum one might call it. And he sounds just the other guy too!

Eadric watches the suited guard, confused. Was it the same man? He couldn't see inside the suit, so odd though it seemed, it must be.

After asking a Sam or two the way, the Wild Cards find themselves in the Mess Hall.

Eadric tries to take note of the directions, but is now seriously befuddled by the seemingly identical suited men. Finally, he decides to ask about them, but just then their group reaches the Mess Hall and he puts it off for a (hopefully not too distant) more convenient time.

He opens his arms to the Sams in the kitchen behind him. "Anything you want! If I can make it, it's yours! C'mon! What are you in the mood for?"

"Fish and chips?" Eadric requests. He's not sure whether he was part of the "something big" that "brought the commander back," but he did help in the most recent battle, which might be connected. Certainly it seems Commander Kirin had woken up moments or perhaps minutes before the Wild Cards' return to the ship, judging from the reactions of all she encountered, which was a chronological connection, at least. It would do for now. And he was hungry!

Eadric realizes soon that not one of them besides the commander appears to be over 25 years of age.

In civilian surroundings, the young age of everyone present (except Commander Kirin, who might well be young in years but was demonstrably old enough to be the mother of any of them, one in particular) would be very odd. On a military vessel, it remained odd, but explainable. Still, Eadric wondered. Surely the senior officers at least would be older than this? Captain Sharp was much older than anyone in sight (again excepting Zyorna). Were the two of them the only remaining officers? Or were the others merely busy with other things? After all, it was the tail end of dinnertime, and presumably there were any number of crew that weren't present just now.

All of the Wild Cards have some time before nature comes a knockin' with its Giant Sleep Hammer ("right in yer faaace!"). What do you talk about?

"I have a thousand questions," Eadric confesses. "If not more. I'd like to know all about you, and about Traversers, and the ship, and, well, everything!" He grins, looking rather like a kid let loose in a candy store without a budget. "But first I should like to ask: why is it that so many of the crew remain suited, and moreover -- why do they all sound identical?" His confusion on this point is plain, the more so as he hasn't been able to form any acceptable hypothesis on his own. They couldn't all be twins, triplets, or whatever the number was.

 

[Sherwood]

"I have a thousand questions," Eadric confesses. "If not more. I'd like to know all about you, and about Traversers, and the ship, and, well, everything!" He grins, looking rather like a kid let loose in a candy store without a budget. "But first I should like to ask: why is it that so many of the crew remain suited, and moreover -- why do they all sound identical?" His confusion on this point is plain, the more so as he hasn't been able to form any acceptable hypothesis on his own. They couldn't all be twins, triplets, or whatever the number was.

Mario lays out a bark of laughter at this, saying, "I get it. It confused me, too, at first. The guys in the armored suits are robots. We call them Sams and Samanthas, and the ship just couldn't be here today without them. Now, as far as the ship goes . . . . I guess if you are a Traverser, you can get some of this info. This is the UEEF Garfish class ship Broadsword, and they are here on an important mission to save the Earth from an upcoming alien invasion from a bunch of nasties called the Invid. They are a real piece of work from what we've been told."

He pauses for a moment, then says, "Most of the Wild Cards are from the Army of the Southern Cross, and have only recently signed into the ship as a part of her crew. Hercules and I were both hover tank pilots, and Toph was a Ajax pilot. Our squad leader, Mack, she is a hot Valkyrie pilot, one of the best out there. Captain Sharp is, or rather was, a colonel in the ATAC like me and Herc. He's a real top rate officer, and once he's up and mobile again, we'll give you a proper introduction."

 

[Psychie]

Toph is dead tired, but she still has the presence of mind to note what Mario is saying, and more importantly, what he's not saying. Specifically the fact that the ship and her crew are from the future.

She looks over at Eadric and says, "I don't want to have you feel like you are being kept in the dark, but until we know what your status is on the ship, there are some very real security concerns that we have to keep in mind. Real Secret Squirrel stuff. Once we know if you are staying on here, then we can brief you in on the deep stuff."

 

[Purr]

Mario lays out a bark of laughter at this, saying, "I get it. It confused me, too, at first. The guys in the armored suits are robots. We call them Sams and Samanthas, and the ship just couldn't be here today without them.

As if on cue, two Sams and one Samantha in working in the Mess Hall to prepare your food all pause - simultaneously. They turn toward the Wild Cards, and like something out of a comical film or parody, they remove their helmets to show that none of them have any heads! Then they wave cheerily, put their helmets back on, and go right back to work. All the while, the friendly cook whom you have just met takes this all as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The pink-armored Samantha leans over the counter, "her" blonde ponytail dangling over one shoulder as she calls out to Sherwood Mario and Psychie Toph. "Hay there! What're you two sweet sugar plums hankerin' for? Thanks to you Wild Cards, we shore gotta lotta vittles ta choose from!"

What do Mario and Toph order?

 

[Sherwood]

Mario places his hand on the counter and says, "Steak and potatoes, please. Medium rare, and lots of butter on that spud." he looks over at the group and says, "That meal is proof of divine powers beyond that of mere mortal man."

 

[Psychie]

Toph gives a tired smile, saying, "Teriyaki stir fry sounds really good right now. Thank you, Sam."

 

[Captain Hesperus]

The 'operation' was nerve-wracking, mind-jangling and body-breaking all in one. Between Toph's first incision that almost, almost, cut Sharp to the quick and the fearsomely active comabt maneuvers demonstrated by Taymee (and aped by Beema), Hercules barely noticed the hard labor he and Mario were putting in. First Toph would cut, then the two tankers would insert their prybars into the gap and fight against the rigid material that resisted them and enclosed their CO in it's deathly grip. Once they managed to force a gap, a wedge would be stuffed into the gap to hold it open and make the following cuts and prying easier.
Hercules did not note the passing of time. He did not care for the layer of sweat that gave his olive skin a glossy sheen. He did not even care for the burning in his shoulders, biceps and wrists as he wrestled with the unrelenting armor to free his Captain. All that mattered was the task. And then, finally, it was done. Sharp was freed from his prison, which was now in a pile of so much scrap metal in the corner of the Mindbender room. The captain himself was in a bed proper, hooked up to all manner of machines that monitored his blood pressure, his pulse, his breathing, even his brain activity.

Beema had collapsed and was slung over Taymee's shoulders like an oversized stole, looking happy but exhausted. He couldn't help but run big fingers through her hair as the two Broo passed him.
"Taymee did great work, Beema was great helper, too." he said cheerfully as he petted the apprentice shaman.
Everyone was talking about food, baths, sleep and more, but something more stirred Hercules' heart. He looked over at the forlorn pile of broken armor and went over to it. The ruined megasuit would never be for for purpose again, it's outer skin melted and fused, the clamps and seams cut and bent out of shape. But perhaps there was something more it could do. He scooped up his discarded tunic and carried it in one hand as he worked the growing soreness out of his muscles while following his squad mates to the Mess Hall. He walked in the shadow of Mario and the new flyboy, Eadric, as Mario and Toph try to bring the Canadian up to speed with everything. How the newcomer wasn't experiencing major headspin from all the revelations that Mario's ready tongue laid out baffled Hercules. Heck, he still had to pinch himself every time he woke up or picked up a new weapon or climbed into a new mecha, just in case he was in some delusional dream.
They reached the Mess Hall and he gave a tired smile at the Sams and Samanthas who showed off their unique circumstances. However, it was an organ other than his mouth that announced his needs. A growl which would have been at home in the depths of some primeval cave issued from his abdomen caused him to blush and press a cautionary hand over it, lest his empty stomach rip through his washboard muscles and try to consume everything in the room.
"I'll just have something with a lot of protein, carbs and something refreshing to drink." he added simply.
He would have cooked himself something, but between his tiredness and his soreness, he didn't trust that his efforts wouldn't result in a fire or, even worse, burnt food.

 

[Kaerri]

Spoiler: Lt. Eadric Braidwood

Character Sheet
Action Points: 9/9
Bonus Action Points: 0

Mario lays out a bark of laughter at this, saying, "I get it. It confused me, too, at first. The guys in the armored suits are robots. We call them Sams and Samanthas, and the ship just couldn't be here today without them. Now, as far as the ship goes . . . . I guess if you are a Traverser, you can get some of this info. This is the UEEF Garfish class ship Broadsword, and they are here on an important mission to save the Earth from an upcoming alien invasion from a bunch of nasties called the Invid. They are a real piece of work from what we've been told."

As if on cue, two Sams and one Samantha in working in the Mess Hall to prepare your food all pause - simultaneously. They turn toward the Wild Cards, and like something out of a comical film or parody, they remove their helmets to show that none of them have any heads! Then they wave cheerily, put their helmets back on, and go right back to work. All the while, the friendly cook whom you have just met takes this all as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Eadric looks at the Sams and Samanthas present (the latter distinguishable by ponytail, oddly enough, as well as color of armor). He shakes his head wonderingly. "Mais c'est formidable*!" he exclaims, then laughs and waves back. "Well, that certainly makes more sense than any explanation I could come up with!"

* "mais c'est formidable" - "but that's marvelous"

He pauses for a moment, then says, "Most of the Wild Cards are from the Army of the Southern Cross, and have only recently signed into the ship as a part of her crew. Hercules and I were both hover tank pilots, and Toph was a Ajax pilot. Our squad leader, Mack, she is a hot Valkyrie pilot, one of the best out there. Captain Sharp is, or rather was, a colonel in the ATAC like me and Herc. He's a real top rate officer, and once he's up and mobile again, we'll give you a proper introduction."

Eadric nods. "And I met Lt. Sveadotter earlier. Good to meet you all." He smiles at Toph. "I prefer Ajaxes myself, when I get the chance to fly. Though my primary assignment doesn't call for it all that often. I'm an Extraterrestrial Affairs Liaison, which I'd hoped would mean being able to go out and meet new peoples, but in practice has meant going all over Earth to help settle conflicts between humans and micronized Zentraedi." He brightens. "Until now, that is! I'd love to get to know the Broo better! As much as I'm permitted, of course. Maybe we can use that for the paperwork? Or does the ship have someone for that already?"

He'd gotten the feeling from Cal that the crew had sorted out Broo-Human relations themselves, but that's merely a vague sense, not a grounded theory. Still, one more xenoanthropologist on board can't hurt, right?

She looks over at Eadric and says, "I don't want to have you feel like you are being kept in the dark, but until we know what your status is on the ship, there are some very real security concerns that we have to keep in mind. Real Secret Squirrel stuff. Once we know if you are staying on here, then we can brief you in on the deep stuff."

"Naturally," he nods in agreement. Lt. Sveadotter had said much the same, albeit when he'd only just come aboard (not that his status had truly officially changed since then). It's a little disappointing not to be able to learn everything at once (though his more reasonable side reminds him that he's already heard, and been involved in, more than enough to fill even his curious brain). But the greater disappointment is the reminder that he might well not be allowed to stay, notwithstanding Mario's statement about their need for Traversers. "So please do tell me if I ask a question you think I shouldn't yet be told the answer to. One of which I suppose might well be, why do the Broo seem to refer to English as 'Pan-Galactic'?" It's sort of hypothetical (he does suspect the answer lies beyond the Secret Squirrel firewall) but he figures it's worth asking all the same, and will at least help him find the limits of that firewall.

Mario places his hand on the counter and says, "Steak and potatoes, please. Medium rare, and lots of butter on that spud." he looks over at the group and says, "That meal is proof of divine powers beyond that of mere mortal man."

Eadric laughs. "I very nearly ordered that myself! It's a favorite of mine. But I've a 'hankering' for a good fried fish instead just now."

"Well then," he continues in a shift of topic. "Might I know more about Traversing? That little one," he nods at Trouble, "and Hitomi, I saw at a symposium some months ago, but we didn't have time to exchange names, much less have a proper talk. I suspect that's the first occasion I used this unusual ability, albeit unintentionally, when I was desperately hoping a handgun wouldn't fire, and it agreed not to. Earlier today I had visions brought on by touching an unknown mecha, and just a few hours ago when I talked to Captain Sharp's suit, I did so in a strange blue version of reality. Is that how it works for you, also? What is that blue place? That was the first time I'd used Traversing on purpose -- is that how it always works, when done intentionally, or was it that I needed to go there for the sort of communication I needed?" He spreads his hands. "It's all very new to me, I confess, but I want to learn as much as I can."

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

Mario places his hand on the counter and says, "Steak and potatoes, please. Medium rare, and lots of butter on that spud." he looks over at the group and says, "That meal is proof of divine powers beyond that of mere mortal man."

After asking Mario a couple of questions (like "precisely what kind of steak" and "precisely how pink do you want it?" as he shows Mario a color guide), the stocky petty officer behind the counter gives Mario a big grin. With an Asian accent that the Italian-American Mario cannot quite place, the cook says, "After coming back from a major combat mission and then spending over a quarter of a day inside Sickbay, you're gonna get a meal that's divine indeed! Especially after the quality goods you Wild Cards got us when we were over, where was it, South America? Have a seat, buddy! It's coming right up!"

Toph gives a tired smile, saying, "Teriyaki stir fry sounds really good right now. Thank you, Sam."

"Oh, you don't want Sam making cuisine like that!" says the cook while Sam nods in agreement. "Teriyaki stir fry is all about blending the flavors properly and that means proper proportions - especially on the tamari - and precise time on the heat! Please have a seat while we get it done!" Toph can hear him turn and tell Sam, "Sam, please get me one unit of flank steak - top grade!"

Eadric laughs. "I very nearly ordered that myself! It's a favorite of mine. But I've a 'hankering' for a good fried fish instead just now."

"Pan, battered, crispy, Southern style like the Americans make it or all of the above?" says the cook as he cleans his hands for what must be the fifth time in as many minutes as he goes from food to food and tool to tool. "Thanks to your latest raid, we went from having no fish at all to choice of tilapia, mahi-mahi, or grouper. All fresh! Take your pick and tell me what you like to see on the side?"

For about the next hour or so, this guy does his level best to become your personal servant as he spares nothing while going from dish to dish to personally see each done right. Commander Kirin, however, simply seats herself. "Commander!" he yells over. "Your usual, ma'am?" Kirin nods once and the guy lets out this cheer that sounds like one big "yesss!" Then he is right back to work.

* * *​

"So please do tell me if I ask a question you think I shouldn't yet be told the answer to. One of which I suppose might well be, why do the Broo seem to refer to English as 'Pan-Galactic'?" It's sort of hypothetical (he does suspect the answer lies beyond the Secret Squirrel firewall) but he figures it's worth asking all the same, and will at least help him find the limits of that firewall.

Cera orders and sits with you, her posture similar to the commander's own. "I have wondered this myself. There is no such language as 'Pan-Galactic,' at least not in the records Meltrandi have kept over thousands of years of traversing space.

"Well then," he continues in a shift of topic. "Might I know more about Traversing? That little one," he nods at Trouble, "and Hitomi, I saw at a symposium some months ago, but we didn't have time to exchange names, much less have a proper talk. I suspect that's the first occasion I used this unusual ability, albeit unintentionally, when I was desperately hoping a handgun wouldn't fire, and it agreed not to. Earlier today I had visions brought on by touching an unknown mecha, and just a few hours ago when I talked to Captain Sharp's suit, I did so in a strange blue version of reality. Is that how it works for you, also? What is that blue place? That was the first time I'd used Traversing on purpose -- is that how it always works, when done intentionally, or was it that I needed to go there for the sort of communication I needed?" He spreads his hands. "It's all very new to me, I confess, but I want to learn as much as I can."

Cera continues where she is able. "It appears the telepathically-capable races in the universe," she indicates Trouble without speaking his name lest she summon the ever-curious metalli-cat, "have no knowledge whatsoever of what we call The Blue World nor the ability to enter." Cera turns to Eadric, her expression serious. "In the few times I have been there, I have found it a realm beyond the reach of all things Ura-Meltrandi. That humans, Meltrandi, and Ura-Meltrandi alone seem to hold the keys to Traversing is both a boon and a mystery of cosmic proportions to me."

In the proper time, your dishes are served to you and with excellent presentation especially for a military vessel. You have yourselves to thank in part for this for the loss of the Anti-Unification League was not only your gain, but the gain of every creature who eats aboard the Broadsword.

As you dine, what do you talk about?

 

[Sherwood]

As Mario eats, he looks over at Toph. "So LT, you have any plans for doing some Traversing research? I'm kinda interested to learn more about it myself. Anything in particular you wish to look into first?"

Psychie

 

[Psychie]

Toph looks over at the tanker and wiggles her fork at him. "I remember that you expressed your interest in my upcoming research. I would like to get some baseline readings first; a full work up on you and any other Traverser that wants to volunteer. Brain scans before, during and after the volunteer tries to traverse a simple item, along with a sampling of your DNA to see if there is any sort of gene for the ability. I would also like to compare what I find with a non-traverser to see if I can isolate just what it is that makes us a Traverser."

She then looks around for Trouble. "Hey, where's our favorite mecha-kitten? I could use your help with this, too. Since you can sense a Traverser, I'd like to see just how you do it. In return, I'll get you a fish treat. How does that sound? I promise I won't hurt you."

 

[Sherwood]

Mario grins at the doctor. "No problem from me, doc. I'll let you use me as your guinea pig. Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Unless it's a brain tissue sample. I don't need you drilling any holes in my head. I got enough of those already."

 

[Sherwood]

Mario then directs his attention to the newest member of the team, saying, "When you talk about Traversing, you need to understand that most of us have only known that we could do this for the past few weeks, so I hope you'll excuse us off we are not a font of information regarding this subject. Hell, even from the time that we have done this I wonder if new words will need to be invented to properly describe our experiences to one another, let alone anyone that is not a Traverser. That mystery is one of the reasons I volunteered so quick for Toph to poke around inside my head with her imaging machines. I want to understand what we are doing better. Is this a power that anyone can have, or just certain people? Can it be learned? Or inherited? I don't know of anyone, including Professor Stein, that knows all the answers."

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

His nose and tail low, his little feet creeping quietly, Trouble has just taken notice of what is on Eadric's plate when Toph addresses him. He is barely paying attention to the conversation at all - much to his little kitty dismay. =)

She then looks around for Trouble. "Hey, where's our favorite mecha-kitten? I could use your help with this, too. Since you can sense a Traverser, I'd like to see just how you do it. In return, I'll get you a fish treat. How does that sound? I promise I won't hurt you."

In your minds, his little boyish voice shouts an alarm as he leaps upright in surprise. Indicating Eadric, he pleads, "Ahhh! I wazn't gonna eat hiz noms, Toph! I swearz!" He sniffs in his direction. "I was gonna to ask firsts!"

Then, after he has dramatically defended himself, he begins to think about what is being asked of him.

"Oh!" Trouble stands tall on his four little feet as he sticks out his chest and beams with pride, his tail lashing this way and that. "We Mewwoos already know how we finds Traversers! If you wanna know about how you do it, ask Da Purr'fess'r! He's been at dis longer dan anybodies! He'd makes a great Mewwoo!"

 

[Kaerri]

"Pan, battered, crispy, Southern style like the Americans make it or all of the above?" says the cook as he cleans his hands for what must be the fifth time in as many minutes as he goes from food to food and tool to tool. "Thanks to your latest raid, we went from having no fish at all to choice of tilapia, mahi-mahi, or grouper. All fresh! Take your pick and tell me what you like to see on the side?"

"Beer-battered if possible, and crispy, like you'd find in a proper London pub, please!" Eadric considers the fish options. Cod was his usual, but then it was also too-frequently frozen, and who wants frozen when they can have fresh? After a long moment of consideration, he chooses: "Grouper. And -- hmm. A baked potato, just the way Mario's asked for." Pub fare normally calls for chips (fried potatoes) with one's fish, but the tanker's description tipped the balance in the healthier option's favor. Well, marginally healthier. Pun intended.

Cera orders and sits with you, her posture similar to the commander's own. "I have wondered this myself. There is no such language as 'Pan-Galactic,' at least not in the records Meltrandi have kept over thousands of years of traversing space.

"No?" That startles him. Cera's people and the Broo clearly have some history between them (albeit not -- equally clearly -- on a peaceful footing). But perhaps the names of languages had not been part of the communication exchanged during that history. "I wonder, is it just the name they have for it amongst themselves, then? And if so, why?" Both rhetorical questions, or rather, questions for a later time, of the sort he normally keeps in his head, but sitting down to dinner with everyone has him feeling more free to speak his thoughts, even the ones with no current answers. "The words themselves suggest the meaning, of course: a universal language. Literally universal, or perhaps I should say, galactic. I wonder how English came to be thought so? At least amongst those species which use the term as such."

Cera continues where she is able. "It appears the telepathically-capable races in the universe," she indicates Trouble without speaking his name lest she summon the ever-curious metalli-cat, "have no knowledge whatsoever of what we call The Blue World nor the ability to enter." Cera turns to Eadric, her expression serious. "In the few times I have been there, I have found it a realm beyond the reach of all things Ura-Meltrandi. That humans, Meltrandi, and Ura-Meltrandi alone seem to hold the keys to Traversing is both a boon and a mystery of cosmic proportions to me."

"Huh. Not even Zentraedi?" Well, they wouldn't be speaking to them to ask, probably. "Never mind. Do you think that was created deliberately for you, or has it sparked spontaneously amongst your people? Interesting that it's just those three groups. But that reminds me -- what are 'Ura-Meltrandi,' if I may ask? How do you differ from Meltrandi?"

Toph looks over at the tanker and wiggles her fork at him. "I remember that you expressed your interest in my upcoming research. I would like to get some baseline readings first; a full work up on you and any other Traverser that wants to volunteer. Brain scans before, during and after the volunteer tries to traverse a simple item, along with a sampling of your DNA to see if there is any sort of gene for the ability. I would also like to compare what I find with a non-traverser to see if I can isolate just what it is that makes us a Traverser."

His food having arrived, Eadric's mouth is now full of fish rather than questions. Which doesn't stop him thinking, of course. Research into how this works would be useful, but somehow that turns it into a mundane reality instead of the wondrous magic it seems now. But of course it isn't magic, though it can still be wondrous even when we learn the hows and whys. All the same... I'd rather not volunteer myself just yet. My inexperience might skew the results.

Mario then directs his attention to the newest member of the team, saying, "When you talk about Traversing, you need to understand that most of us have only known that we could do this for the past few weeks, so I hope you'll excuse us off we are not a font of information regarding this subject. Hell, even from the time that we have done this I wonder if new words will need to be invented to properly describe our experiences to one another, let alone anyone that is not a Traverser. That mystery is one of the reasons I volunteered so quick for Toph to poke around inside my head with her imaging machines. I want to understand what we are doing better. Is this a power that anyone can have, or just certain people? Can it be learned? Or inherited? I don't know of anyone, including Professor Stein, that knows all the answers."

Eadric smiles and swallows his latest bite of juicy grouper. "So you're all nearly as new to this as I am? That's... actually rather comforting. I was beginning to imagine myself a child amongst adults, so to speak. All the same, I'm interested in anything you've discovered so far. I'd as soon not repeat someone else's mistakes. Far better to come up with new ones of my own, wouldn't you say?" He cuts another bite, then pauses before popping it in his mouth. "Of course, I'd return the favor. On this or any other subject that isn't restricted. I know I ask quite a lot of questions, but I'm equally happy to answer them!"

In your minds, his little boyish voice shouts an alarm as he leaps upright in surprise. Indicating Eadric, he pleads, "Ahhh! I wazn't gonna eat hiz noms, Toph! I swearz!" He sniffs in his direction. "I was gonna to ask firsts!"

Eadric waggles his fork at the feline telepath. "The answer is no, so you needn't ask at all. You had your own! If you want more, ask our nice chef."

"Oh!" Trouble stands tall on his four little feet as he sticks out his chest and beams with pride, his tail lashing this way and that. "We Mewwoos already know how we finds Traversers! If you wanna know about how you do it, ask Da Purr'fess'r! He's been at dis longer dan anybodies! He'd makes a great Mewwoo!"

"Where is the Purr-- I mean, professor? I'd be happy to bombard him instead." With another sort of person, Eadric might have added a rider: if he doesn't mind, that is. But with two professors as parents, he knows that most are only too happy to expound on their subjects of choice.

"And how do you find us? You couldn't even see me at that symposium, hidden away in Hitomi's purse as you were."

 

[Captain Hesperus]

Hercules received his meal, took his seat and ate in relative silence. His mind was still trying to process the events of the day. From arriving at the frozen southern continent and discovering an entire Zentraedi command ship embedded in the ice, the team has gone from being on a salvage and retrieval mission to full-contact hot warfare with a full Zeki battle company, when their advance element, Team Adamantium, had discovered live Zentraedi within the ship. Those same aggressors had deployed new and horrifying weaponry against the Wild Cards and the Broadsword, resulting in the Broo being co-opted to assist in defending the mothership. During that same engagement, their at-that-time CO had personally deployed in his own mecha, engaged the enemy, but had been focused by the Zeki and quickly disengaged in critical condition. At that point, things had gotten confusing for Hercules. The added desperation of witnessing Adamantium being pinned down and pushed before the Zeki along with Captain Sharp’s sudden and violent assault unlocked new levels of Traversing in the Wild Cards. Their new mecha, having already been enhanced by their operators’ technopathic powers, responded to their operators’ fear and anger by deploying abilities normally beyond those a mecha and single pilot would normally be able to employ. This sudden extreme enhancement had turned the tide, smashing the Zeki’s onslaught and driving off the broken elements of their force. This done, they had managed to recover those members of Adamantium who had been feared missing in action, then withdraw in good order, their mission successful.

Almost immediately following that, the team, along with a newcomer who had joined the battle at an opportune moment, had been required to extract the badly wounded Captain from his broken megasuit, using a combination of alien technology, surgical skill, technical expertise and brute force. All in all, it had been had been a day of extreme situations and the Petty Officer’s head was having some trouble processing it all. But he was seated in the mess hall, he had food and his worries about Sharp were eased knowing that he was freed from his armored tomb and resting comfortably in the medical bay. All that remained was grabbing six to eight hours of rack time before seeing what the next day would bring.

 

[Purr]

Captain Hesperus Kaerri Psychie Sherwood Silanon

(A few answered questions before the Wild Cards turn in for a good night's sleep and rise for the next day.)

"No?" That startles him. Cera's people and the Broo clearly have some history between them (albeit not -- equally clearly -- on a peaceful footing). But perhaps the names of languages had not been part of the communication exchanged during that history. "I wonder, is it just the name they have for it amongst themselves, then? And if so, why?" Both rhetorical questions, or rather, questions for a later time, of the sort he normally keeps in his head, but sitting down to dinner with everyone has him feeling more free to speak his thoughts, even the ones with no current answers. "The words themselves suggest the meaning, of course: a universal language. Literally universal, or perhaps I should say, galactic. I wonder how English came to be thought so? At least amongst those species which use the term as such."

Commander Zyorna slurps her soup in the manner of Japanese folk who show they are enjoying and appreciative of their meal. Nearby, Cera wrinkles her nose in distaste at the Lisara-Meltrandi's action. Zyorna briefly sets her soup down long enough to tell Eadric, "Bring this query to Flight Lieutenant Piper. The answer lies with her." Then she returns to carefully slurping her soup.

Cera narrows her eyes as she continues to ingest the orange and brown protein-paste in her own bowl while Zyorna clearly does more than simply consume. "How can you, a full-blooded Meltrandi, dine on substandard human food when you can instead take in the higher nutritional value of the substances that have been manufactured to serve our bodies best?"

Zyorna answers without looking at her. "Perhaps the better question to ask is - which of us is more free from the hold of our hated creators, the Robotech Masters?"

Cera is stopped in mid-spooning at this notion. She does not take another bite but begins to gaze at Zyorna's enjoyment of her miso soup, a new perspective dawning in her young alien eyes.

"Huh. Not even Zentraedi?" Well, they wouldn't be speaking to them to ask, probably. "Never mind. Do you think that was created deliberately for you, or has it sparked spontaneously amongst your people? Interesting that it's just those three groups. But that reminds me -- what are 'Ura-Meltrandi,' if I may ask? How do you differ from Meltrandi?"

Cera has to pull herself away from staring at Zyorna Kirin to answer Eadric. "There is not enough data to create even the most basic of theories. For the Ura-Meltrandi, all things technopathic are brand new.

To Eadric's next questions, Cera seems more at ease. "We are the Meltrandi that did not require humans to break free of the Robotech Masters' hold upon us. We are the force that denied them and struck out into the universe to engage in our own destiny. The wretched Zeki-Zentraedi say that they hold to the same yet the commonalities between them and our former masters are a list too long to give voice to. Instead, I choose to inform you that we are led by War-queens, the mightiest and most intrepid of our kind and mine the greatest among them - War-queen Taniya! If ever our absolute leader had cause to fear for her throne, it comes from the very warrior that gave life to me. She alone holds the key to technopath through me - no other Ura-Meltrandi are aware of it." Cera says this last with great pride.

Zyorna takes advantage of the pause. "Our differences are many, yet not so many. There are three factions of Meltrandi. The first are the Lisara-Meltrandi - those of us who have chosen to ally with Earth after our victory over Lord Dolza. The second are the "free" Meltrandi - Lisara-Meltrandi who, much like the Zentraedi Malcontents, cannot bring themselves to join the humans and so they seek a fate all their own. As for the Ura-Meltrandi..." Zyorna and Cera turn toward one another. Their shared stare is like an invisible beam of energy between them.

"...in our future-time, the Ura-Meltrandi are dire enemies of the UEEF and Zeki-Zentraedi alike." Zyorna hardly blinks. "Here, in your May of 2025, we are now allies of a kind. Not the UEEF, not even the Broadsword, but the Wild Cards alone hold this awesome tether that might change the ways our races see each other."

"Indeed," Cera nods.

"Cera of the Ura-Meltrandi owes me no allegiance; I have no power over her nor do I wish any."

"You see clearly, commander. None can compete with War-queen Taniya and live to taste the next day."

"And yet... the very technopathy that you alone hold amongst your entire species is only held by your squadmates, your dentella - the Wild Cards - human to the last."

Cera slaps her hand upon the table. "So?! What matter is it that they are human, commander? They are my friends! Speak your mind clearly!"

Zyorna does with the coolest of confidence. "Cera, you are the first Ura-Meltrandi to ever call humankind friends. You are indeed a new generation of Ura-Meltrandi." And with that, Zyorna casually goes back to her soup. Cera sits silently, her mouth agape. Twice, she seems about to speak, but nothing comes from her. Instead, she stares into her protein-paste, her mind in deep thought. Somehow, Cera looks both lost and free at the same time.

Eadric smiles and swallows his latest bite of juicy grouper. "So you're all nearly as new to this as I am? That's... actually rather comforting. I was beginning to imagine myself a child amongst adults, so to speak. All the same, I'm interested in anything you've discovered so far. I'd as soon not repeat someone else's mistakes. Far better to come up with new ones of my own, wouldn't you say?" He cuts another bite, then pauses before popping it in his mouth. "Of course, I'd return the favor. On this or any other subject that isn't restricted. I know I ask quite a lot of questions, but I'm equally happy to answer them!"

Eadric waggles his fork at the feline telepath. "The answer is no, so you needn't ask at all. You had your own! If you want more, ask our nice chef."

Trouble appears in one hand of the pleased chef who has served you while the other holds a plate of military origins decorated with tiny niblets of fresh fish. As always, his communication says more through your minds than the mewing and nomming that reaches your ears. "Dat's one reason da Purr'fess'r wanted ta meet wif you. He sez yer curiosities might lead ta bigger things! He said it! I knows! I wuz dere!!" Trouble makes the last sound as if this was yet another epic adventure of his kitten-ness.

"Where is the Purr-- I mean, professor? I'd be happy to bombard him instead." With another sort of person, Eadric might have added a rider: if he doesn't mind, that is. But with two professors as parents, he knows that most are only too happy to expound on their subjects of choice.

"And how do you find us? You couldn't even see me at that symposium, hidden away in Hitomi's purse as you were."

Trouble eats and thinks at you simultaneously, happily enjoying those little bits of fish. "He's in da big, big leafy place! Brazil, dey calls it!" Trouble looks up at Eadric for a moment. "I doesn't hafta sees you! You all is just... dere!"

Zyorna, now eating sashimi with chopsticks with a small smile on her face, re-enters the conversation. "You will need more good fortune than all of us required to survive our previous ordeals if you want to get straight answers out of that one." Zyorna turns to her daughter and adds, "With your request to scan his brain - a thing he is most-highly protective of - you make the mistake of underestimating Trouble. Remember, Toph," she points her chopsticks at Trouble's gleaming Mega-damage hide and cybernetic body, "while the Broo gained in the understanding of technology by joining with the Broadsword, the Mewwoos developed Trouble all on their own."

"We sure dids! An' just lookit me! I iz da bestest! Just another victory for... KIIITTEENNNS IIIIIN SPAAAAAAACE!" Then Trouble breaks into making spacy and mysterious "weeooo-weeooo-weeooo!" sounds for added effect, though if there is any effect here, it turns out to be far more comedic than mysterious.

All in all, it had been had been a day of extreme situations and the Petty Officer’s head was having some trouble processing it all. But he was seated in the mess hall, he had food and his worries about Sharp were eased knowing that he was freed from his armored tomb and resting comfortably in the medical bay. All that remained was grabbing six to eight hours of rack time before seeing what the next day would bring.

Zyorna looks up at Hercules for about three seconds before returning to her sashimi. "Teammate of my daughter, I have seen the look you wear before in the eyes my own human crew here on the Broadsword. Uncertainty. Fatigue. Bewilderment." Zyorna chews then swallows. "If my advice is welcome at your table, then I say to you what I have said to them - we are a people at war. War brings chaos. Chaos brings times that create questions. Do not spend too much time trying to make sense of it all lest you miss out on the time that you have left. Rest.... knowing that time will provide answers of its own. Analyze, but also let go. For life is to be lived," says the Meltrandi to the Greek.

Zyorna then glances at Toph, grins, and gingerly deposits a piece of sashimi on her daughter's plate.

* * *​

(Game Master Note: Feel free to add any replies to the above. Now we move onto the next morning.)

All of you awake quite late in the day. Your clocks state that you have all slept for some 10-11 hours and yet no one has seen fit to disturb you in your bare quarters. You awake to the constant thrumming of the Broadsword's power plant effortlessly carrying you along and above the vibrant whites and grays of the Antarctic ice and snow. The telltale creaking and feeling of the ship moving is all about you, unobtrusive, yet always there. You have taken the time to practice your morning routines, not with the goodies of home or your work-related lives prior to joining the Broadsword, but instead you are met with higher-tech doodads and whatchamacallits that simply do not exist in the Earth year of 2025. Figuring them out, at least for some of you, might come at the cost of summoning a Sam unit to tell you just how these things operate. But, Sam or no Sam, operate them you do until each of you are clean, fresh, and in clean and fresh uniforms.

The day is before you. Hercules, if he wishes, is free to go to the Armory to craft what he will (without the need of Skill rolling if I follow correctly). There are no alarms, no maydays, no crises, no earth-shattering battles. Just a huge strange ship out of time where only the mysteries surrounding her are larger and more profound.

Each of you are alone and prepared to take on what's left of the morning (the time is 1100 hours). What do the Wild Cards do?

 

[Sherwood]

When Mario finally wakes up, he stretches, gets cleaned up and dressed in a set of workout clothes and heads for the ship's gymnasium. After a hearty sweat from the treadmill and pumping some weights, the Italian showers and gets into his uniform and sets out to find a person, but at the moment, he doesn't know who that person is yet. He stops a passing Sam (or Samantha) and poses a question, "Hey there! Got a question for you that I was hoping you could help me out with. I'd like to learn how to speak the Broo language. Who would be the best person to go to for that?"

 

[Kaerri]

Hercules received his meal, took his seat and ate in relative silence. . . . All in all, it had been had been a day of extreme situations and the Petty Officer’s head was having some trouble processing it all. But he was seated in the mess hall, he had food and his worries about Sharp were eased knowing that he was freed from his armored tomb and resting comfortably in the medical bay. All that remained was grabbing six to eight hours of rack time before seeing what the next day would bring.

As he ate, Eadric glanced at the quietest (and largest) member of their dinner party. Was Hercules the strong, silent type, or just tired to speechlessness by the day's events? He'd said little before, Eadric remembered, so perhaps it was a bit of both. For now, Eadric decided to let him enjoy his dinner in peace rather than addressing any questions specifically to him. There would be time enough for that later (he hoped) and if Hercules hadn't been inclined to answer the general inquiries, he wasn't likely to be more receptive to personal ones.

Zyorna briefly sets her soup down long enough to tell Eadric, "Bring this query to Flight Lieutenant Piper. The answer lies with her."

Eadric nodded. "I will, thank you."

Note to self: ask Flight Lieutenant Piper about the term "Pan-Galactic" and its use amongst the Broo, and any others.

Point of information: Commander Kirin eats Japanese food, in traditional Japanese fashion. And has a Japanese family name. Her husband, Toph's father, must have been Japanese, and likely himself traditional on at least these points -- and she must have loved him very much to have learned so much of his culture, to say nothing of taking a human spouse at all.

Cera narrows her eyes as she continues to ingest the orange and brown protein-paste in her own bowl while Zyorna clearly does more than simply consume. "How can you, a full-blooded Meltrandi, dine on substandard human food when you can instead take in the higher nutritional value of the substances that have been manufactured to serve our bodies best?"

Zyorna answers without looking at her. "Perhaps the better question to ask is - which of us is more free from the hold of our hated creators, the Robotech Masters?"

Cera is stopped in mid-spooning at this notion. She does not take another bite but begins to gaze at Zyorna's enjoyment of her miso soup, a new perspective dawning in her young alien eyes.

Eadric watches the interaction thoughtfully, and files Zyorna's response for possible later use. Suitably adapted, of course, not being Zentraedi himself. But the concept could prove useful to one whose duties most often brought him into contact with Zentraedi and Meltrandi who were having difficulties fitting in amongst humans.

Cera has to pull herself away from staring at Zyorna Kirin to answer Eadric. "There is not enough data to create even the most basic of theories."

Eadric nodded in perfect understanding, that being a statement wholly aligned with his own methodology.

To Eadric's next questions, Cera seems more at ease. "We are the Meltrandi that did not require humans to break free of the Robotech Masters' hold upon us. We are the force that denied them and struck out into the universe to engage in our own destiny. The wretched Zeki-Zentraedi say that they hold to the same yet the commonalities between them and our former masters are a list too long to give voice to. Instead, I choose to inform you that we are led by War-queens, the mightiest and most intrepid of our kind and mine the greatest among them - War-queen Taniya! If ever our absolute leader had cause to fear for her throne, it comes from the very warrior that gave life to me. She alone holds the key to technopath through me - no other Ura-Meltrandi are aware of it." Cera says this last with great pride.

Zyorna takes advantage of the pause. "Our differences are many, yet not so many. There are three factions of Meltrandi. The first are the Lisara-Meltrandi - those of us who have chosen to ally with Earth after our victory over Lord Dolza. The second are the "free" Meltrandi - Lisara-Meltrandi who, much like the Zentraedi Malcontents, cannot bring themselves to join the humans and so they seek a fate all their own. As for the Ura-Meltrandi..." Zyorna and Cera turn toward one another. Their shared stare is like an invisible beam of energy between them.

"...in our future-time, the Ura-Meltrandi are dire enemies of the UEEF and Zeki-Zentraedi alike." Zyorna hardly blinks. "Here, in your May of 2025, we are now allies of a kind. Not the UEEF, not even the Broadsword, but the Wild Cards alone hold this awesome tether that might change the ways our races see each other."

"Indeed," Cera nods.

"Cera of the Ura-Meltrandi owes me no allegiance; I have no power over her nor do I wish any."

Eadric listened intently, absorbing the information Cera and Zyorna so freely provided. The warrior -- Taniya -- who gave life to Cera? Surely not biologically. And she was the only other Ura-Meltrandi with knowledge of technopathy? Limited data, indeed. That the Ura-Meltrandi and the Zeki-Zentraedi were dire enemies came as no surprise, that being the case with the Meltrandi and Zentraedi he was already familiar with.

"If I may ask a personal question, Auxiliary Specialist Cera: you say that War-queen Taniya gave life to you. Do you mean she commanded the cloning facility you were grown in?"

After she answered that (or declined to answer), Eadric had another question, this one for both of them to consider, though he addressed only one. "Commander Kirin, you are in the command structure of this ship, are you not? Or will be, once you're able to resume your duties. And aren't the Wild Cards part of the ship's complement? Wouldn't that place Cera under your authority, through the Broadsword's chain of command?"

Zyorna does with the coolest of confidence. "Cera, you are the first Ura-Meltrandi to ever call humankind friends. You are indeed a new generation of Ura-Meltrandi." And with that, Zyorna casually goes back to her soup. Cera sits silently, her mouth agape. Twice, she seems about to speak, but nothing comes from her. Instead, she stares into her protein-paste, her mind in deep thought. Somehow, Cera looks both lost and free at the same time.

As with Hercules, Eadric decides this is a good time to hold back and leave Cera to her own thoughts. But he can't help but agree with Zyorna. From what they'd said, Cera's people, the Ura-Meltrandi, were humanity's enemies, yet she'd not only called the Wild Cards her dentella, or allies, (more accurately, she had not argued when Zyorna did so) but had even called them her friends. That was remarkable even amongst the Lisara-Meltrandi! Cera was certainly someone special.

He watched Cera for a time, considering her. Then the part of his brain that liked to go over previous conversations and find new points of interest suddenly waved a hand to get his attention, and replayed a particular quote. "...in our future-time, the Ura-Meltrandi are dire enemies of the UEEF and Zeki-Zentraedi alike. Here, in your May of 2025, we are now allies of a kind." "Ah... Commander," he began hesitantly, "I suspect this is almost certainly something I'm not to know until my status clarifies, but I can't not ask. Did you really just say you're from our future?"

Trouble appears in one hand of the pleased chef who has served you while the other holds a plate of military origins decorated with tiny niblets of fresh fish. As always, his communication says more through your minds than the mewing and nomming that reaches your ears. "Dat's one reason da Purr'fess'r wanted ta meet wif you. He sez yer curiosities might lead ta bigger things! He said it! I knows! I wuz dere!!" Trouble makes the last sound as if this was yet another epic adventure of his kitten-ness.

His curiosity was already leading to strange and exciting places, Eadric thought.

Trouble eats and thinks at you simultaneously, happily enjoying those little bits of fish. "He's in da big, big leafy place! Brazil, dey calls it!" Trouble looks up at Eadric for a moment. "I doesn't hafta sees you! You all is just... dere!"

"I wish I could talk with my mind while I eat," Eadric commented wryly. "Though perhaps others might wish otherwise. I might be unbearable then!" He takes a bite of buttery baked potato while he listens, then swallows to free his mouth. "Brazil, is it? Darn. I suppose it'll be a bit before we'll be able to meet, then. I'll just have to muddle along in the meantime."

Zyorna, now eating sashimi with chopsticks with a small smile on her face, re-enters the conversation. "You will need more good fortune than all of us required to survive our previous ordeals if you want to get straight answers out of that one."

Eadric laughed. "Oh, they're straightforward enough, just short on detail without further querying. He answers in accordance with his nature and understanding, as do any of us."

Remember, Toph," she points her chopsticks at Trouble's gleaming Mega-damage hide and cybernetic body, "while the Broo gained in the understanding of technology by joining with the Broadsword, the Mewwoos developed Trouble all on their own."

"We sure dids! An' just lookit me! I iz da bestest! Just another victory for... KIIITTEENNNS IIIIIN SPAAAAAAACE!" Then Trouble breaks into making spacy and mysterious "weeooo-weeooo-weeooo!" sounds for added effect, though if there is any effect here, it turns out to be far more comedic than mysterious.

Could the day get any more fascinating? Mewwoos -- his people? His species? -- developed Trouble's cybernetics, and presumably other technology, on their own? But serious contemplation was quickly diverted into comedy by Trouble's sound effects, and Eadric laughed. "Victory indeed!"

"Teammate of my daughter, I have seen the look you wear before in the eyes my own human crew here on the Broadsword. Uncertainty. Fatigue. Bewilderment." Zyorna chews then swallows. "If my advice is welcome at your table, then I say to you what I have said to them - we are a people at war. War brings chaos. Chaos brings times that create questions. Do not spend too much time trying to make sense of it all lest you miss out on the time that you have left. Rest.... knowing that time will provide answers of its own. Analyze, but also let go. For life is to be lived," says the Meltrandi to the Greek.

"Good advice," Eadric murmured to himself. Perhaps it was time he let go as well, at least for tonight.

* * *​

All of you awake quite late in the day. Your clocks state that you have all slept for some 10-11 hours and yet no one has seen fit to disturb you in your bare quarters. You awake to the constant thrumming of the Broadsword's power plant effortlessly carrying you along and above the vibrant whites and grays of the Antarctic ice and snow. The telltale creaking and feeling of the ship moving is all about you, unobtrusive, yet always there. You have taken the time to practice your morning routines, not with the goodies of home or your work-related lives prior to joining the Broadsword, but instead you are met with higher-tech doodads and whatchamacallits that simply do not exist in the Earth year of 2025. Figuring them out, at least for some of you, might come at the cost of summoning a Sam unit to tell you just how these things operate. But, Sam or no Sam, operate them you do until each of you are clean, fresh, and in clean and fresh uniforms.

The day is before you. Hercules, if he wishes, is free to go to the Armory to craft what he will (without the need of Skill rolling if I follow correctly). There are no alarms, no maydays, no crises, no earth-shattering battles. Just a huge strange ship out of time where only the mysteries surrounding her are larger and more profound.

Each of you are alone and prepared to take on what's left of the morning (the time is 1100 hours). What do the Wild Cards do?

Eadric half-wakes, stretches, and opens his eyes, only to see an unfamiliar sight: not merely a room he doesn't know, but a room whose very furniture is strange to him (though vaguely familiar, in the sense that it's been designed by members of his own species and thus is not completely alien). He pauses a moment mid-stretch to let yesterday's memories catch up. Mikey. Zentraedi. BOOP. Combat. Broadsword. Broo! That last excited thought sends him into full and delighted wakefulness, and he tosses back the covers and rolls out of bed, eager to see what wonders this new day has in store for him. He looks around for yesterday's uniform with a twinge of dismay and doubt of its having been cleaned overnight, but it seems the day's wonders begin with that, for instead he finds a new uniform, much like those the Wild Cards wear, clean and presentable and clearly ready for him. He smiles. "Thank you, Sam," he tells the presumed provider, wherever that entity might currently be. The matter of clothing settled, he goes looking for a way to clean himself, and discovers more wonders. Devices of a kind he's never encountered meet his widening eyes. Briefly he considers seeking the aforementioned Sam for advice, but then has a more interesting idea. If having technopathy means he can talk to machines, why not ask the devices themselves?

And so he does. Identifying something he suspects to be a shower, he starts there, locating the presumed controls and touching a finger to a spot that seemed safe (i.e. wouldn't activate anything just by the touch). "Hello," he greets it. "What is your function? How do your controls work?" (He will go on to do the same with other things in that area of the room that look relevant to getting cleaned up and dressed for the day.)

Once clean, brushed, and dressed, Eadric is about to start interacting with other devices in the room, but his eye happens to fall on the clock. 1100 already? Ack! He decides to save the rest for later, and leaves his room. The hallway is vaguely familiar from last night, but probably looks like every other hallway on the ship, and he isn't quite sure how to get anywhere from here. "Er... Sam? Can you hear me? Or Samantha? I could use a little guidance, if one of you is free." Assuming a Sam or Samantha hears and responds, Eadric will ask to be shown the way to the hangar, so he can talk to BOOP. Along the way, he asks, "I came here with a man named Mikey yesterday. Are you able to give me an update on his condition? I don't like to pester the medics if I don't have to. I'm sure they've still got their hands full."

 

[Psychie]

Toph slowly rises from bed, still feeling drained despite the long time asleep that she enjoyed. She slips out of her clothes and showers, then once cleaned up, she dries off and dresses before heading out to find some breakfast. And coffee. Lots of coffee.

Once she has some caffeine in her, the world starts to look like life is worth living once more. Time to do some work in the ship's medical bay. Those soldiers in there need the very best care that she can offer up. If it weren't for the brave members of Admantium, her mother would still be in the cryotube waiting for the Ice-9 that was responsible for her rapid recovery. She owes them all, and by God she will deliver to them her A game. Time to go to work.

Heading over to medical, Toph turns her doctor mode on. Starting out, she hunts down the medical officer currently in charge and offers up her services to help out as needed. With so many wounded here, an extra hand would most likely come in handy.

Purr