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>>2155048
Take your time if you have to, I'm not going anywhere.

“You are doing it right now, aren't you?” Dogatie muses.

“So what if I am?” you counter.

“I find it very impressive,” Dogatie admits over the speakers hooked up to his tank. “That the human body, so frail as it is, could play host to two minds for such a long time with no apparent ill effects.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” you admit, keeping the conversation going for now. “The headaches can be a bitch.”

“I would imagine so.”

“Well, here we are,” you shrug. “I've pretty much got you all figured out, least as far as I care to.”

“Drop the wea...” one of the two marines you brought along who has turned traitor begins, only for you to interrupt him.

“No,” you snap, before returning to Dogatie. “So the next step is resolving this little dilemma we've found ourselves in. I suppose you'd rather not die just yet?”

“I do have a few questions that must be answered before I make any decisions,” Dogatie replies cautiously.

After considering your position for a moment, you nod. “I'll allow it.”

“How far ahead in time can that eye of yours see?”

>Far enough to be useful in a fight, I guess.
>I haven't really pushed it beyond a minute or two.
>Not far, but it gets a little easier each time.
>Depends on how you conceive of “time”.

>>2155056
>>Depends on how you conceive of “time”.

>>2155056
>>Depends on how you conceive of “time”.

wibbledy wobbledy timey-wimey bullshit.

>>2155056
>>Depends on how you conceive of “time”.

>>2155056
You stare at him for a moment in confusion. “How do you mean?”

“I mean to say, how far ahead in the timeline can you see?” he clarifies.

“That's not how time works,” you shake your head.

“Enlighten me.”

“All newtypes can sense things slightly before they happen,” you explain. “Even the weakest manifestation of it borders on precognition.”

“And the strongest manifestations of it?” Dogatie presses, sounding slightly annoyed now.

“Would be my abilities,” you confirm. “But even then I don't consider the 'reach' particularly impressive, any one of our top aces could do the same if they worked on it.”

“Then what is unusual about when you do it?”

“The difference is that most newtypes only ever sense far enough ahead to be useful,” you continue. “Which means only seeing what you would call a single 'timeline'. But time branches... and I have the unique ability to see multiple branches at once.”

“So you cheat?” one of the marines realizes.

“I think of it as superior intelligence-gathering,” you shrug, still carefully holding a bead on the coolant pipe at your feet to maintain the threat. “But you can call it that if you want.”

“And so if you wished to see further...” Dogatie continues his line of thought, whatever it might be.

>There is a physiological limit to what a mind can handle. What you're talking about is beyond it.
>Maybe. But there'd be no way of knowing which branch I was seeing or how it came to pass.
>It may be possible, within reason. But it's not something I've ever felt the need to attempt.
>Other?

>>2155190
>>Maybe. But there'd be no way of knowing which branch I was seeing or how it came to pass.

>>2155190
>>There is a physiological limit to what a mind can handle. What you're talking about is beyond it.

>>2155190
>>Maybe. But there'd be no way of knowing which branch I was seeing or how it came to pass.
>>Other?
Figures you'd be more interested in the aspect of it that involves going into tunnel vision.

>>2155190
>Maybe. But there'd be no way of knowing which branch I was seeing or how it came to pass.

>writing

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>>2155319
“And why exactly would I want to do that?” you ask, a confident smirk on your face. “Even if I could I would have no way of knowing which branch I had seen or how it came to pass. The information itself would be useless to me.”

“Information is never useless,” Dogatie contends. “I cannot understand why you have not used this gift to its fullest!”

“Because when you think you have all the cards it becomes overconfidence,” you argue back. “When the future gets here I don't wanna greet it with blinders on.”

“So you would rather greet it blind?” he counters.

“I'd rather greet it without preconceived notions or assumptions,” you clarify.

“Sounds like the lady's got the right of it to me,” the marine sergeant you brought along offers. “Military planners get it wrong all the time... keep missin' the proverbial boat when it comes to carriers for one thing.”

“What does that have to do with it, sarge?” the calmer of the two defectors in the room asks.

“It's the difference between not having a single long-term plan and spending years worth of resources on the wrong plan,” you clarify.

“Then it seems we are not going to see eye to eye on this matter after all,” Dogatie sighs, sounding somewhat aggrieved. “I must confess I had hoped you would see things from my perspective, given a proper chance to discuss the matter.”

“I've considered your perspective,” you admit. “I just think it's the height of arrogance.”

“What will you do about your new mobile suit?” Dogatie asks, finally changing the subject. “Once you finalize your defeat of the Jovian menace?”

>Outfit our fleet with more of these things, using customized end-user specifications. They're damn near perfect for our needs.
>Continue updating and refining pre-existing types. The thought of more than one of these things is... intimidating.
>We'll be stepping back our mobile weapons production, focusing on shipbuilding instead. But I WILL be keeping the Viola.
>Other?

>>2155334
>>We'll be stepping back our mobile weapons production, focusing on shipbuilding instead. But I WILL be keeping the Viola.

>>2155334
>>We'll be stepping back our mobile weapons production, focusing on shipbuilding instead. But I WILL be keeping the Viola.

>>2155334
>We'll be stepping back our mobile weapons production, focusing on shipbuilding instead. But I WILL be keeping the Viola.

>>2155334
>>Other?
With how far flung some of the worlds are, perhaps a single fully supported unit per system wouldn't be far-fetched.

>>2155334
“I'll be keeping the Viola,” you admit, “but I can see a strong argument for reducing our mobile weapons production goals. Focus more on building cruiser-sized vessels and smaller.”

“And abandon the concept of mobile suits?” Dogatie asks, bemused by your suggestion. “The single most effective combat weapon to have been designed in the last century?”

You take a moment to consider your counterargument. “Do you remember the Dolos class?”

“I do,” the man in the glass tank confirms. He has no body language to speak of, of curse, but you can tell by his voice that he's wondering where you intend to go with this. “One hundred and eighty-two mobile suits standard, with seven catapults. Came in at a length of five hundred meters and a width more tan half that.”

“They were painfully slow,” you add, “and woefully under-gunned for their size. The numbers are impressive but the stupid things weren't practical.”

“And your point is?”

“My point,” you continue, “is that I would rather have a fleet of Zanzibars and Musais than a Dolos. In the same line of reasoning, we already have Nagato. What we need are more efficient vessels that can operate independently on interdiction or escort missions, along with the mobile suits for them to carry. Not simply stupid numbers of weapons.”

“Which of course will place much of the burden for self-defense on individual systems, such as you have seen with Luna and Mars,” Dogatie observes. “Your own refusal of growth would trigger proliferation elsewhere, and eventually open war.”

>Isn't that what you wanted? The perpetual chance, if not actual existence, of open warfare?
>I doubt it. With the amount of room available there's no need to develop aggressive capabilities.
>And in that case we'll step in. We have advanced capabilities and greater force concentration.
>Other?

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>>2155501
Forgot my image, it's this stupid thing.

>>2155501
>>And in that case we'll step in. We have advanced capabilities and greater force concentration.

>>2155501
>>And in that case we'll step in. We have advanced capabilities and greater force concentration.

>>2155501
Oh, I thought the ships mentioned there were meant for further exploration and colonization endeavors, or making it easier to support the already settled worlds. Though I guess those kind of ships can be repurposed as such in a pinch?

>>And in that case we'll step in. We have advanced capabilities and greater force concentration.
He's still gonna bring up the "we can't be everywhere at once" argument, isn't he?

>>2155501
Is he seriously going to use that old 'you can't be everywhere at once' argument?

“Then we'll have to step in,” you put it simply.

“Like you did against the Martian insurrection?” Dogatie manages to smirk using nothing more than his inflection.

“That was terrorism,” you point out, “not an actual war. But given our extensive contacts and reputation there's every chance we could defuse a situation before it escalates into an all out war.”

“And after you and your contacts have died?”

“We'll have established a decades-long reputation,” you explain. “Not for impartiality, because no human is ever impartial, but for credibility. If we commit to a policy we pursue it, if we give our word we keep it. That's what matters for an intermediary.”

“You seem to have given a lot of thought to this,” Dogatie admits.

“There's hardly a shortage of examples how not to progress,” you frown. “Just read a history book or two about the time leading up to the Third World War... by that point every world power had sacrificed its credibility. So-called strategic partners couldn't trust each other, or predict their allies' behavior.”

“And if it progressed to the point of war?” Dogatie asks. “What then?”

>We would stay out of it. That isn't our role.
>We would destroy the weapons. An interplanetary war is impossible if all you have are pointy sticks.
>That's part of why we've concentrated so many capable navigators in one place. It makes a travel embargo possible.
>Other?

>as announced on Twitter a break at 3pm PST is probable
>I should be back by 6pm PST
>confound my family for forcing me to have a social life

>>2155621
>>That's part of why we've concentrated so many capable navigators in one place. It makes a travel embargo possible.

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>>2155551
The ships mentioned would be for multiple roles: interdiction, patrol, escort, and exploration among them. Which means less focus on jamming more mobile suits and more focus on endurance, maneuverability, habitability, and the ability to act independently.

The Sericea is one possible route: one catapult, two mobile suits, but useful as all hell if you're not trying to fight a fleet action. Pic related is a similar concept from the original SoZ.

>>2155621
>>That's part of why we've concentrated so many capable navigators in one place. It makes a travel embargo possible.

>>2155621
>>That's part of why we've concentrated so many capable navigators in one place. It makes a travel embargo possible.
And then CTF was Spacing Guild.
Except they'll add weaponized Newtypes used for mass genocide, along with the "no atomics" rule, whenever a War of Assassins come up.

Alright, I have to leave for a while. But expect a LOT of discussion between Dogatie and Carrina when I get back in a few hours.

Suggested reading if you have time? The concept of a Nash equilibrium.

>>2155748
>expect a LOT of discussion between Dogatie and Carrina
Well, I reckon both are essentially playing for time. And they both probably know it too. To what end on Doge's side though, I'm still trying to figure out.
Wee hours in the morning plus a nap conducive season and weather isn't exactly keeping the mind sharp. So the break kinda works out for me too.

>I'm back in the saddle, I'll start writing again and kick things off at 6pm sharp, PST

>>2156300
“Why do you think we've concentrated so many navigator-capable newtypes?” you muse. “At a certain point, it makes it possible to place travel restrictions on parties to limit their ability to wage a war even if they wanted to.”

“And the ones who do not join your cause?” Dogatie presses. “The ones more loyal to their home and people than your lofty ideals of a new interstellar community?”

“There will be too few,” you suggest. “You'd reach a Nash equilibrium where no side has a strong enough incentive to take a risk on war given their limitations.”

“How can you ever have an equilibrium when you do not have stability?”

“When you're uncertain of your own strength you tend to estimate conservatively,” you point out. “And with too few newtypes to move a fleet and defend, of course no one will ever feel certain of their position.”

“Which will only spur on further development of weapons,” Dogatie argues, “especially in artificial newtype technology, specifically to work around the limited number of natural newtypes available to them. Which, given your position, would seem to present a problem? Would you really intercede any time anyone tried to form a newtype research lab?”

“Of course,” you snap.

“And we see how effective that was in our case.”

“We're here, aren't we?” you grumble.

Calm down, sis.

... right. Good call.

Sis...

I am calm, okay? I'm calm. We're good.

I'm in position for when you need me. Say the word and I blow the armored bulkheads.

That part you keep to yourself. “If we can keep political pressure on the major players and keep the prospect of interplanetary war as one that's deeply impractical, the situation should become normal.”
>1/2

>>2155621
>We would stay out of it. That isn't our role.

>>2156462
“That still is not a perfect equilibrium.”

“It doesn't have to be,” you insist, “so long as the sides involved can reasonably assume one another's motivations and priorities.”

“And so long as there is a heroic, neutral force ready to ride to the rescue,” Dogatie quips.

“If it comes to that, yes,” you nod. “But we're also banking on the average person preferring not to go to war.”

“So... y'all done talking now?” one of your defectors demands.

“Oh come on,” the sergeant groans. “Give it a rest already.”

>Turn this around, demand to know what the hell Dogatie intends to accomplish here.
>Insist that you're going to leave, and that Dogatie will be arrested for financing terrorism.
>Observe that your sister is prepared to blow a hole in the battle plate so you can extract.
>Other?

>>2156558
>>Insist that you're going to leave, and that Dogatie will be arrested for financing terrorism.
>>Observe that your sister is prepared to blow a hole in the battle plate so you can extract.

>>2156558
>Turn this around, demand to know what the hell Dogatie intends to accomplish here.

>>2156558
>Insist that you're going to leave, and that Dogatie will be arrested for financing terrorism.
>Observe that your sister is prepared to blow a hole in the battle plate so you can extract.
Man these guys never really take the Grim Guard seriously do they?

>>2156558
>>Insist that you're going to leave, and that Dogatie will be arrested for financing terrorism.
We taking the Sarge into account for this extraction, if blowing the hole is necessary?

He could move to make the arrest, place him in a good position for the extraction too.

And considering the length of the conversation with Dogatie, where's the Mars team at?

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>>2156558
“Well, it's been fun,” you sigh, “but I'm gonna have to place you under arrest now.”

“You and what army?” the traitor demands, having failed to notice that the other marine who had turned his weapon on you and the sergeant has lowered his rifle slightly.

“Me and the fifty-ton psychic death machine positioned on the other side of these armored bulkheads,” you reply calmly. “What you thought I was just getting chatty?”

“I am aware of your sister's preparations,” Dogatie admits. “I have been trying to hijack her mobile suit for the last five minutes with no success.”

“Of course,” you nod. “It's not like you can transplant your soul into the machinery. It shouldn't be a surprise.”

“You... wouldn't really risk all our necks on a maneuver like that,” the marine insists. “You'd have to be insane.”

>Since when did you think you were looking at a sane woman?
>You're right. But one way or the other you WILL help me arrest this man.
>Blow his brains out while his attention has slipped.
>Other?

>>2156652
>>Since when did you think you were looking at a sane woman?

>>2156652
>Other?
Shoot his hands to make him unable to use his weapon.
"Why do people never read history, or doubt the bullshit that Newtypes can pull off?"

>>2156652
>>Other?
Spook him with a bluff. Did he think we'd plan this move if it wasn't already calculated? Mention a few ways this guy ends up after making a horrible mistake. And it doesn't even have to be true.

>3d10, DC 18, Crit 22

Rolled 7, 1, 4 = 12 (3d10)

>>2156779
TRAITOR!

Rolled 2, 10, 10 = 22 (3d10)

>>2156779

>>2156795
wew

Rolled 6, 8, 7 = 21 (3d10)

>>2156779

>>2156795
Without a word of explanation you draw your weapon and fire.

The round slips into the cooling vents in his rifle's bullpup stock, shattering against the hardened barrel and filling the interior with shrapnel. The marine on the other hand thinks he just struck it lucky and pulls the trigger on you.

“Oh, buddy...” you mutter. “I really wish you hadn't done that.”

“What did you...”

“I put some shrapnel into the trigger group of your rifle,” you smile calmly. “Making you my bitch.”

Before he can respond you sweep his legs out from under him and slam his helmet into the deck.

“Sergeant, secure the prisoner,” you order.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Now then, Crux Dogatie,” you muse. “We can do this one of three ways. You can explain how to get you out of this room in one piece, or we can station a science team here and have your entire setup stripped down and analyzed part by part.”

“Or my sister can just blow a hole in the wall and we'll take our chances from there.”

For the first time since you arrived, Dogatie falls silent for a few moments.

“Before you call for your men I have one final question... what do you intend to do about the Vists?”

>Leave them be... for now.
>If they're in league with you I'm sure Luna would be happy to help us with them.
>They're next. It's high time we put their schemes to an end.
>Other?

>>2156991
>>They're next. It's high time we put their schemes to an end.

>>2156991
>>If they're in league with you I'm sure Luna would be happy to help us with them.
The ones with direct involvement anyway. It might extend even further than that.

>writing
>this will be the last update of the session

>>2157086
“We'll deal with them next,” you sigh. “We've let them go unchecked for far too long already, since the old days. We were fools to think they'd just leave well enough alone.”

“By force, if necessary?”

“I hope it doesn't come to that,” you shake your head, “but if it does, yes.”

“You had better expect it to come to that,” Crux Dogatie chuckles grimly. “I am old, and I am tired, but I am satisfied to have my concerns heard out. I wish my plans had not unraveled under the butcher's touch of the Grim Guard, but we cannot always have what we want.”

“The Vist Foundation however,” Dogatie continues to explain, “they are less content with attracting attention to their cause. They will not settle for less than total success, and if challenged they will not hesitate to use all means available to protect their interests.”

“So what is the difference, in practical terms?” you ask. “Give me the short of it.”

“The short of it is that I at least like to believe I still have principles. The Vist foundation and its members make no such illusions.”

You pass off the situation to a team of technicians, who arrive about five minutes later. This leaves only a single issue outstanding: the soldier who had initially raised his weapon against you, but who eventually stood down.

“So what happens to me now, Captain?”

You sigh wearily, motioning for the man to take a seat next to you on a bench as you wait for the linear car that runs the two kilometer length of the Nelson's central spine. “Sit.”

When the marine follows your order, you lay out your thoughts on the situation. “We screen you volunteers for a reason. You sign waivers, NDAs, the works. All because what we do exposes us, and sometimes you by extension, to sensitive information. We need to know that you're rock-solid reliable in any circumstance... and because of what you did I can never get that from you again.”

“So... what happens to me?” he repeats. “Prison? Execution? What?”

You chuckle to yourself. “Execution? What kinda barbarians do you take us for?”

Seeing that the man's still waiting for an answer you give him one.

“Part of the deal is that if you're discharged the NDAs still apply... but we don't distinguish between honorable and dishonorable. So while we're gonna have to cut you loose this indiscretion isn't going to follow you into civilian life.”

“I'm not going to hold it against you... and it's gonna be okay.”

>>2157208
And that's where we'll have to take a pause. Thanks for stopping in, and see you all next weekend once I've had a chance to set up the next scenario over the week.

Hope you enjoyed the read, and keep an eye on Twitter for updates.

>>2157221
Thanks for the thread. So is this gonna be the schedule for the foreseeable future?

And a follow up taking the recent SoZ pastebin omake into consideration. I guess it makes sense increasing the fleet role due to the terraforming on the worlds that seem to have been rendered sterile. Or am I mistaken in the assumption on how said planets ended up that way? Maybe it really is aliens.

And the additional MS roles for ground survey on new planets was pretty neat. Still kinda think it'd be nice for a Viola tier unit on call for far off systems when shit really hits the fan on their neck of the stars.

>>2157319
Aliens are certainly one possibility. But it's also entirely possible that these potential life-bearing worlds went the way of Mars naturally. The other very real betting line in the fleet is that all intelligent species have their own retard moments, and not all of them made it through as well as we did through three world wars, a cold war, and the Zeon war.

>>2157349
If intelligent life did make it through those struggles, yet had their retard moment after all that, it'd be a sobering thought. Like, who knows if humanity in this 'verse is simply re-treading that same path as those predecessors without even realizing it.

Then again, how else are we gonna get to the Dark History route of Turn A Gundam?

I kid, pls no alium Moonlight Butterfly bad end.

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>>2157561
>who knows
At this point, literally no one. That's what makes this such a dangerous time in some peoples' estimation.
>>2157319
Also yes, this SHOULD be something like a regular schedule for the foreseeable future. Trouble is that the possible interruptions and complications are things I probably won't find out about until the day of.

As for the fleet role in colonization support, the cruiser design I see as useful going forward is in line with the ReZeon ship in this graphic. Something fast and reasonably sized with one centerline hangar, plenty of PD turrets, and skirts for hovering/skimming like a land battleship.

>THE TRIALS
The waiting room is just a little too chilly to be considered comfortable, which is probably the way it was intended. After all you very much doubt that the Grim... no, that the Colony Transit Fleet would knowingly 'cheap out' on one of their facilities, even if it's on Axis.

What used to be the beating heart of the Zeon remnants has found new meaning in its existence, as a stopover in the far outer Sol system. Its orbital path keeps it stable opposite Jupiter, allowing incoming convoys to either reach the Jovian sphere more easily or else avoid it entirely: most opt for the latter these days amid reports that otherwise the Jovians might simply take for themselves what's intended for someone else.

This base now serves convoys heading into the Sol system as well as those heading the opposite direction, leading to a bustling trade and service industry that makes Axis something like humanity's greatest gas station... though the food is definitely of a higher standard than that comparison would make it sound. The CTF operates a facility here, right in and around the gravity-free generator block. Once every six months old soldiers and technicians from all corners of human space assemble here to try their hand at joining that famous lineup of aces and lead designers, either for the chance at fame or to avoid infamy.

Day one of the selection process was a grueling physical evaluation, where the unfit and unhealthy were weeded out in the first few hours. By the end of the day however you'd begun to figure that they were separating you into groups based on your performance, and you found yourself with a short list of thirty extremely capable-looking men and women.

Then came the worst part of the whole experience.

About an hour after you were told it would be lights out you were all woken by a fire alarm, forcing you to scramble to the marshaling point only to find out forty-five minutes later that it was a false alarm.

An hour and a half or so after you'd gotten back to bed a pipe burst in the wall, threatening to drown you all in a floating orb of water that rolled around the inside of your sleeping quarters. Then, after someone managed to shut off the water and you got the air filtration system into reverse to evacuate the room, some asshole thought it would be funny to pull the fire alarm again.

By the time reveille was being blown you'd had no real rest and had nearly died in your own bed, which was hardly the sort of condition you'd want to take a written test in. But you did anyway. A hundred question battery of practical engineering and servicing knowledge, another hundred questions on orbital mechanics and practical deflection shooting, a hundred questions on organic and inorganic chemistry. There was even a hundred-question section on history and classic military strategy.

The mounting physical and mental exhaustion took its toll on all of you.
>1/?

>>2163210
By morning on the third day you'd finally had a chance to rest, and found yourself called into this waiting room with just four familiar faces out of the thirty others you'd sat the written test with. One was called promptly into the next room... and he didn't come back.

The second called, a woman with an EFSF tattoo on her right wrist, was then called. She would later return cradling that arm, with a nasty shiner over her left eye. The third called, a stocky man with a short beard, didn't return either. By the time the fourth name was called the poor young man was obviously on edge, and he came back out with a fat, bloody lip and a limp.

Then your name is called, and you step carefully through a door which leads down a narrow corridor, then into a white cube-shaped interior and a sealed door at the far side.

Standing in the middle of the room is a woman in lightweight boots and fatigues, with a sleeveless shirt tucked into them. Her dark hair, pale skin, and slight build all lead you to question what she's doing here, and whether she was the one who sent those other two out of the chamber in such disheveled state.

She looks you over curiously. “My name is Rossweisse. I will be your case officer.”

“Case officer?” you repeat.

She nods. “Correct.”

Then she lowers herself into a fighting stance. “Come.”

You match her preparation, feeling a little uncomfortable about the whole thing but getting the distinct impression that even if you refuse she'll just beat you down anyway. She's not strong of course, her first counterpunch tells you that much, but the way she strikes at your joints and pressure points tells you she's an immensely capable fighter with a keen eye and an encyclopedic knowledge of human anatomy. You find yourself pushed hard, barely managing to keep up with this young woman... until she rolls back with one of your punches and swings her legs up.

With a crash you hit the ceiling, or what had been the ceiling... the diamagnetic generator reversed? No each of these walls has its own generator and the one under the floor just activated. You manage to roll to your feet, fighting across the ceiling until Rossweisse cartwheels to the side... and you crash into the wall. This time however you almost manage to stay on your feet.

Almost.
>2/?

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>>2163263
Finally, after several changes in direction, you feel like you've gotten the better of her. You kick off the ground and turn your waist, landing solidly on your feet as the gravity pushes you back to the ceiling, but Rossweisse is a step ahead of you. Instead of rebalancing she uses her new momentum to drop on you from above, grabbing you round the neck and shoulders and slamming you to the deck.

Just as quickly as she took you down she releases you, rolling back and landing on the floor in a low crouch as you fall in an awkward heap.

“Good,” she nods approvingly. The door opens behind her.

“This way.”

You're ushered through the door into a smaller room, furnished only with a small desk bolted to the floor and a chair behind it. Your guide seats herself, flipping open a small paper file.

“So did I do well or not?” you ask with a chuckle. “Cause so far it's been kind of hard to tell.”

Rossweisse looks up and stares at you impassively. “Satisfactory.”

“Ah,” you nod, suddenly finding the situation awkward again. “Okay, thanks... I guess.”

“Preferable to the alternative,” Rossweisse points out, returning to her files. “You joined Titans. Why?”

You can't say you didn't anticipate this question, and it feels like Rossweisse isn't the sort of woman you can get away with lying to. So you offer the truth.

“I believed in the mission,” you admit. “Many of us did.”

“And now?” she presses.

“Mistakes were made.”

Rossweisse nods quietly, making a note in your file. “Why apply to the CTF?”

“Because I believe in this mission.”

“Which is?”

“Watching over humanity's expansion into deep space,” you reply. “At least that's how I see it.”
>3/4

>>2163324
Rossweisse nods again, wordlessly as before, penciling in more notes. “Have you killed?”

A knot forms in your stomach, an uncomfortable memory stirs just beneath the surface. The smell of blood and cordite and recycled oxygen assails your nostrils for a brief moment.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

You sigh deeply, realizing that this woman is reading you like an open book. “Another mechanic I think, I didn't know him personally. It was during the Tel Aviv mutiny, where one of our officers refused to stand down and rushed the bridge.”

Rossweisse looks straight at you, silently demanding the full account. Not the events, she's doubtless read all the reports available and some of them are in front of her at this very moment.

“He was scared,” you admit, the thought still paining you all these years later. “Young, like I was. I don't know if he believed he was doing the right thing following the Lieutenant or if he was just following orders because he didn't know what else to do... but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?”

“No,” Rossweisse immediately agrees, “and it does no one any good to continue scrutinizing those events.”

“Then why bring it up?” you demand.

“You showed remarkable awareness and empathy in addition to your technical qualifications,” she tells you, sealing your file and passing it across the table to you. “Please see miss Takesawa on the way out.”

“What did you write in there?” you ask, taking the documents gingerly off the desk. “What was all this about?”

“You have potential,” Rossweisse 'explains', telling you remarkably little. “Miss Takesawa will fill you in on the details.”

“Potential for what?”

“Navigating,” Rossweisse clarifies, before showing you the door. “As a Newtype.”

“Congratulations, Mister Bidan.”
>4/4

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>>2163384
>Congratulations, Mister Bidan.
HOLY SHIT AHHHHHHH

For a minute there, I thought we were following the perspective of a marine in the Sericea. Got all the harsh space bootcamp style intro, albeit with insane additions that probably make sense when living and fighting in space.

Glad to be surprised by that reveal though.

Incidentally, what was Kamille's MS during his time with the Titans?

>>2164159
In this continuity I'd imagine they'd have him as a mechanic for most of the engagements, right up until the collapse. But I'd also say they'd stick him in a Marasai for the last mission the Tel Aviv sortied for in which he surprised everyone and did well.

But there wouldn't be time to follow up on that surprise, as Titans lost its command and control and the Federation wasn't keen on investigating every little detail that didn't match up.

>>2164230
As mentioned on Twitter I can't really run today as I thought I might, because the interactions with the Vist Foundation aren't really detailed or planned yet. So I wouldn't be "winging it" so much as bullshitting as we go, and I think it wouldn't be a good experience.

So I'll have an omake ready for tomorrow morning, and start a new thread next week.

>>2174210
>December 2, UC 0088
>CTF BBCV Nagato
>Far Point Station, Outer Sol System

“Excuse me,” Dominic sighs, “but what are the three of you doing to my ship?”

In one of the series of compartments known collectively aboard the Nagato as “the Final Frontier” three redheads, identical save for their hairstyles, have been busy at work atop three step ladders. Only newtypes ever come here, and these three are no exception to that. But instead of stopping, or turning to address the newcomer, they've kept at work.

They can show the Captain such casual disregard because they know they're the three people on the ship who could basically get away with anything.

“What does it look like we're doing?” Marida challenges.

“It looks like you're bolting a Christmas tree to the ceiling,” Dominic states.

“Technically this is an artificial tree,” Cynthia points out.

Diana gives the third of four bolts a sound twist with her power tool. “But yes, that's basically what we are doing.”

“Why?” Dominic asks blankly, failing to understand the rationale behind such a decision.

“Because it means there's more room under the tree for presents,” Marida explains, as if it's the most logical thing in the world. “Bigger presents, more presents...”

“It works either way,” Cynthia adds.

“So... you're wagering that this is a way of getting more or better Christmas presents?” Dominic concludes.

“That's about the size of it,” Marida admits.

Dominic silently considers the point. “You know, I think I almost have to honor that logic.”

The trio share a series of excited and optimistic glances before hurrying to tighten the last bolt.
>1/3

>>2176031
>December 24, UC 0088
>CTF BBCV Nagato
>Far Point Station, Outer Sol System

“So that's the size of it,” Dominic concludes. “I'll only need you to do it for about ten hours. Think you can pull it off?”

Miyu Takizawa nods with a wide smile on her face. “For a joke? Sure, I'll absolutely do that.”

“Good,” Dominic nods, “I appreciate it. And come on, get down there and celebrate with us! What are you even doing on the bridge right now?”

“I'm sure ALICE can handle the ship for a few hours,” Miyu admits with a sigh, pulling her headset down around her neck. “Heck, she could probably do it and still talk circles around the rest of us while she's doing it. I'm not sure why we're here sometimes.”

“So let's go,” Dominic insists with a laugh. “You look like you need it.”

The pilots, navigators, and bridge staff of the Nagato are the beating heart of the Colonial Transit Fleet. They operate the ship, they defend it from harm, they escort other vessels that require it, and most importantly they operate the training facilities for student navigators. Perhaps those men and women would get the sort of training necessary to manage a starship were it not for the CTF, but the concentrated experience both with newtype technology, with mobile suit and ship to ship combat, and with the exploration of deep space has proven invaluable. It's easy for others to forget that they're human, and sometimes it can seem like some of them forget it themselves.

But on Christmas eve the Last Frontier was a vibrant display of the human side of the push towards the stars. Emma Sheen brought her husband over to his first major social function aboard the Nagato, and the poor man managed to seem only slightly out of place as some of the most powerful and experienced Newtypes alive gave him the once-over to see if he deserved their old Second Squad leader's favor. Admiral Joshua took the youngest member of the crew off her mother's hands for the first time in months, letting Carrina actually try and have a social life again... despite the fact that her baby was the prime topic of discussion whenever she was around. The Admiral of course didn't mind, though few in the crowd failed to notice that her smile when she played with the baby in her little 'pilot-suit' onesie was equal parts enamored and sad.

Even Haman Karn managed to convince her various diplomatic contacts she had reason to be at Far Point, and she put in an appearance halfway through the celebration to a round of sarcastic applause and catcalls. But she was welcome there, of course, and took the joking in stride by sending the chief offender spinning off into the next room over in retaliation.

The triplets, however, couldn't help but sulk when they realized Dominic's trick: with no gravity in the compartment they'd bolted the tree into he was free to stack gifts on the ceiling all around it.
>2/3

>>2176035
“You win this round, O'Hara,” Marida pretends to sulk when she realizes the duplicity.

“Better luck next time,” the man shrugs with a cocky grin as he floats by upside-down. “Keep trying though. Keeps me on my toes.”

The next morning those who had no pressing commitments off-ship opened gifts together in freefall, then wisely gravitated to the next compartment over to work through several pots of coffee and stacks of pancakes.

Then a call came in for Admiral Joshua, who excused herself to the bridge with Takizawa and Anderson. Haman was called back to her ship for some manner of “urgent” political negotiation between Mars and Luna, and had to excuse herself after quickly finishing her third cup of coffee. One by one the former members of the Grim Guard assembled here began to drift off, each pursuing their own projects and duties until it was just down to three: Dominic, Carrina, and their child.

“Merry Christmas,” Dominic smiles, pecking his wife on the cheek.

“We just wish it could last longer,” Carrina sighs. “It seems so brief, when we manage to get people back together like this. Rossweisse couldn't even make it this time.”

“We managed to contact her,” Dominic says, shaking his head. “But I agree, it doesn't feel like it was enough.”

Carrina sets their daughter into her bed, and pulls the covers up over her as she rests... already thoroughly exhausted by the morning's excitement. “What we are drew us all together, closer than most people. Then it split us further apart than anyone thought possible until a few years ago. We've never been twenty lightyears away from a friend before, and certainly not on a day like this.”

“We're lucky distance is all that separates us,” Dominic reminds his wife. “There are some people who are lightyears apart even in the same room. And I think that as time passes, the distance will be less and less significant to people like you and me.”

“Yeah...” Carrina sighs, glancing out the small viewport in their daughter's little room. “You might be right. But the consequences of that... are for another day, perhaps.”

“Merry Christmas, you red-headed madman.”
>3/3

And of course, merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, and for the rest of you have an awesome rest of the year. Thanks for sticking it out another year with me, and hope to see you next time I run.

>>2176035
>with no gravity in the compartment they'd bolted the tree into he was free to stack gifts on the ceiling all around it.
>[pouting Puru noises]

This is some next level crew entertainment. I imagine if these kinds of shenanigans were commonplace, the three Purus probably messed around with an ice machine already.

>>2176088
Cheers and have a good one too.

Yay he took my idea