Jade Imperium - The War At Home

Mister Andersen 2011-04-28 20:13:35
"This is the field test," Kadi answers. "The coat is a co-opted technology intended for diplomatic use once we get the kinks worked out. The material was originally developed as a passive camotech." She scrolls through some menus on the tablet and starts tapping. In response, the coat shifts from its base colour through a variety of different patterns: classic woodlands, urban, desert, the modern digital designs. "Unfortunately, the technology is far too fragile for most battlefield conditions: a good thump could damage whole sections of the circuit grid. Using it with the Wherren was seen a chance for the project to justify its pricetag."
CrazyIvan 2011-04-30 21:59:20
"Oh." Angel's voice is suddenly cheery. His stance on Imperial cloaking tech is well known, and presumably translates to the British attempt at it as well. "I'm sure it'll go swimmingly."
punkey 2011-05-02 02:57:18
Luis watches Kadi's tech demonstration with interest - even if the mechanics of the Wherren language make focusing on color-generation a little strange, the technology is interesting, and could be beneficial combined with a more integrated system that's a bit more portable.

As he leans out a bit further into the aisle to get a better look at the device, Arketta pokes him in the shoulder. "Luis, I need to talk to you about something."
Luis turns back, "Sure. What's up?"
"It's about the new woman. Kadiatu." Ironically, Arketta has no problem pronouncing Kadi's name without any accent, possibly due to the similarity to Imperial names.
"Yes?" Luis turns and looks at Kadi again for a moment, then looks back. "What about her?"
Arketta leans over towards Luis, spying on the back of Kadi's head through the seats. "I don't trust her. Something about...how she was back at the airport. She looked like she already knew us before we introduced ourselves."
Luis nods. "I figure they probably briefed her beforehand. How much they told her, what kind of slant it had? Don't know that, but we'll find out."
"It's more than that," Arketta says. "There's something off about her, I can feel it in my gut." Luis notes the use of the Earth phrase. "She's cold, like an outsystem planet is cold." She crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. "Like I said, I don't trust her."

"Angel's pretty cold, it took me a while before I'd trust him to cover me in a crisis," Luis says, nodding towards where Riviera's sitting. "Not the technical skill, I knew he had that, but trusting his judgement in a crisis. Whiirr helped with that, the first time there. Give her a chance, see what she's like in action. Cold isn't necessarily bad."
"She's not like Angel. He's not cold, he's just distant and doesn't like talking with people." Arketta opens her vox's interface. "She looks like she doesn't give two shakes of a scrofa's tail about any of us. That's what I don't like."
Luis glances back at Kadi, sizing up her face as she talks to Hugh. "We'll see," he says.

----

Further towards the back of the plane, Davis and Ngawai sit next to each other, each of them with their vox holodisplays open, but in a radical change of policy, neither one of them are reading intelligence reports or news. Davis is catching up on his Narsai’i shows (the difference between HDTV and holos is a bit distracting, but he can tolerate it for his Burn Notice fix), while Ngawai skips between the latest novella in the Ikuni Teamta, Grand Apprehendress series, her favorite pulp Apprehender series, and the new issue of the main professional Grand Apprehender weekly (the magazine’s illegal status makes getting the issues beamed to her vox much easier).

Ngawai slides an ad from the Apprehender weekly across her holodisplay and onto Davis’. “Hey, look. Crates of pantaki for 10 thousand.” She grins at him. “You think she could use an gift?”
Davis pauses the video and looks over the ad. “‘Obtained’ from Imperial resupply depot?” he asks, giving her a grin and a skeptical look.
“I’m sure they fell off the back of the Manta,” Ngawai replies. She glances through her screen and sees Kadi walking back to her seat across from Hugh. “What do you think of Kadiatu?”
Davis doesn’t look away from his holodisplay. “Couldn’t get much of a read on her. But...”
“The timing is suspicious,” Ngawai finishes. “I agree. Simmons takes a swipe at us, and the next time we’re back on Earth, a new team member gets put into 815? Plus, something was off about her.”
“Off how?”
Ngawai leans back in her seat and goes back to her magazine. “She wasn’t telling the truth about how she got here, I could tell. Something is up with her, I just don’t know what.”
“I’ll ask Hugh and Angel to talk to their Royal Army contacts, see what her story is.” Davis pauses his video again and turns away to give Ngawai a peck on the cheek. “Thanks.”
Ngawai smiles. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”

----

Once the plane is in the air, Hugh can only keep to himself for the ten or so minutes it takes for the actual launch - once the bird is at cruising altitude, the impact of having already spent the last 13 hours vegging out on a plane has gotten to him badly enough to he's desperately looking around for someone to talk to who's not trying to get some sleep. Spotting the Sergeant Major going over her Wherren translator gadget, Hugh gets up from his seat, wanders over to her and plonks down in the same row.

"If you don't mind me asking, Sergeant Major...did you volunteer for this assignment? Or did they mail you the orders?"
Clapping the translator into standby, Kadi turns to her new commanding officer. "First rule is never to volunteer, isn't it, Sir?" she asks, studying the Captain. "It was suggested that I was a viable candidate for the posting by people at significantly greater pay grades, and it was a break from dealing with insurgents in the desert."
"Would you believe I originally took the posting because it was quiet and out of the way?" Hugh replies with a smile. "See, back then, they didn't tell anyone that they were putting a team together for our first trip to a distant planet. At least now they can tell you you're gonna die under a foreign sun."
The comment is greeted with a fatalistic shrug. "If I die, I plan to die doing what I want to be doing. More or less. The exact details don't really bother me. Apart from not wanting it to hurt."

"Well, alright, that's one half of the equation," Hugh says. "But you know? I think we're gonna survive this. You got any family to come back to?"
Kadi shakes her head. "Just my parents. I'm not really inclined to bother with the hassle of having someone vetted only to discover they can't handle what I do or not having the right clearances."
"Yeah, same here," Hugh replies, then falls quiet for a moment. "I don't know, myself. Seems like everyone else on the team is looking at settling down. Makes an old slacker like me wonder."
Kadi jerks a thumb towards the window and the world passing by unseen beyond it. "Would you want to be born into the world as we know it, Sir?" she asks. "I'm not sure I would. Not until a lot of people are no longer in it, at any rate."
Hugh raises an eyebrow at that. Just one, but that a fair deal. "Huh. And to answer your question, hell yes I would." After a pause, he adds "I mean, what's the alternative? If I get to pick and choose my world, like I'm at the all-you-can-eat buffet, sure I could come up with something I'd like more, but...what we have is pretty good, I think. Why do you ask, Sergeant Major?"
"Settling down & raising a family. That can be a noble thing Sir. But it can change your priorities, make you willing to compromise on things you never thought you would. Or maybe forget how. And for everyone following that noble thing, there has to be those of us doing the ignoble in defence of it."

"I prefer to avoid compromise by not having standards in the first place," Hugh says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Anyway, if you're buying - don't feel like you gotta act the whole Her Majesty deal out for our benefit. We're all decent guys, we do our stuff right, and that's all that matters on the other side of the gateway. Dig?"
She nods. "No fear about that, sir."
"Good," Hugh says. "Good. I don't stand on protocol, so - welcome to the team. Looking forward to working with you. You got questions or concerns, I'm your dance partner. I'll come to you if I've got a problem with you, I expect the same in return."
She nods again. "In that case, given this is a semi civillian unit, where exactly do I fit into the command structure?"
"Huh," Hugh says. "I'll drop a five-dollar word: adhocracy. Basically, there's no set structure within the team. Whoever's got the relevant skills calls the shots. I'm in charge of the overall tactical aspects, Davis runs the tradecraft and strategy department. But in general, you're not going to get a lot of direct orders. If I look in your direction and say 'cover the left flank', then that's your cue to grab who you need and get it done." Hugh pauses for a moment. "The essence is, I trust everybody on this team to know their craft, and to contribute productively towards the overall mission. Is that alright with you?"
"Sounds fine to me, Sir," Kadi answers. 'But speaking of craft, it's probably not a good idea to have me pilot one: they have a distressing tendency to break when I'm at the wheel that I'm told violates statistical probability."
"Yeah, I can't get Manta insurance, either," Hugh replies. "Not a big deal. Luis and Zaef got that covered."
"Good to know, Sir."

----

The Gulfstream is starting to feel more and more like a gilded cage as the plane carries everyone out of Los Angeles and towards Andrews AFB. Experienced spacers like Swims-the-Black, Ngawai and Zaef are more focused on enjoying the luxuries of being trapped in a well-appointed metal tube, rather than the harsh metal of a freighter. The soldiers are used to having to fly halfway around the world, while Davis is simply glad that it’s not a mud hut or rat-infested warehouse. Gorlan, lacking anything even roughly equivalent in experience, was already acting a bit antsy before landing in Los Angeles, and the prospect of another six hours waiting for arrival is intolerable for a man who’s used to breezing through Gateport checkpoints.

Davis looks up from his TV show to see Gorlan get up and walk a few laps of the plane for the third time in the last ten minutes. He recognizes the pained look of cabin fever, and sees Luis watching the noble walk past him, arms behind his back. Davis shoots his eyebrows up at Luis, who turns and digs a pack of cards out of his bag.

Davis waves Gorlan over. “Hey, Gorlan, we’ve got a game for you to try, if you want.”
Gorlan stops and looks down at Davis. “What sort of game?”
Davis waves Luis over. “A game with these cards, we call it ‘poker’.”
Hugh, Swims-the-Black, Arketta, and in actuality the rest of the plane perks up a bit (except for the Lieutenant and flight attendant, neither of which can follow the pace of Imperial being thrown about) when Davis mentions poker. “You gonna teach Gorlan how to play?”
Luis tosses Davis the deck. “Sure, we’ll get as many people in as we can,” Davis says. “It’s been the best way to connect with other Imperials so far, I figure Gorlan might want to learn.”
Gorlan looks curiously at the cards as Davis shuffles, and from Davis to Luis to Arketta to Hugh, before shrugging and taking a seat across from Davis and Ngawai. “All right, teach me this ‘poker’.”

Before long, most of the plane is huddled around the table, cards in hand. Gorlan was less than comfortable when Swims-the-Black sat down next to him and again when Angel joined the game, but he soon is too occupied trying to remember the game’s procedure to be concerned about the wherren and the sniper sitting at the table with him. The game proceeds amicably, and Gorlan turns out to be a quick study in the game of poker; his business acumen serving him well and letting him actually knock out some of the more experienced players from the game with well-placed bluffs and risky calls.

----

After a few hours, the game slowly peters out as everyone realizes that it’s going to be almost 1100 local time when they touch down at Andrews, and that some degree of rest would probably be a good idea, if only to try to put everyone on something resembling equal footing with the time zone you’re about to enter. Naps are taken, books read and holos watched, and as the plane starts to descend towards Washington DC, a great sense of relief washes over everyone, that their unreasonably long journey from Diego Garcia to Washington DC is almost over. However, that relief is soon joined by apprehension and trepidation as the facts of the situation before the team are brought back up. Somewhere in DC, a powerful group of players in the Pentagon, CIA, and possibly Congress and the rest of the Executive branch have banded together to push Task Force 815 and possibly GRHDI as a whole to the side and take over the war on the Imperium for themselves, intending to leave the Basharka’i and the rest of the galaxy out in the cold while they focus solely on saving their own hides. As the plane touches down, you can see the outline of the Capitol building in the distance, and it only further serves to show that even though you’re not in danger of being sent to the Arena here, this is still not exactly friendly territory.

As the Gulfstream taxis up to an empty hangar, two black SUVs with government plates are waiting inside. Once the engines start to spin down, the rear door of the the lead SUV opens, and Samantha Barnes climbs out, her blond hair and mix of Imperial formal tunic and Narsai’i dress pants buffeted by the wind coming off the tarmac, followed by a petite Asian woman carrying a closed folio case and dressed more classically Narsai’i. She leans over and says something in her ear as the jets whine to a stop, which she notes down in her folio by tapping on something, presumably a tablet.

Barnes and the woman that most of you assume is her assistant stand by while the stairs out of the plane are lowered and the team disembarks and retrieves their bags from stowage, except for Gorlan, whose bags wheel themselves out of the hold at a waved vox command.
Barnes walks up to the team as you assemble into a loose and weary-looking semicircle in her direction, and meets the tired gaze of every one of you. “It’s good to see you all made it in one piece,” Barnes says in Imperial.
“Not so sure about that yet,” Zaef cracks.
A chuckle rises from the group as Barnes gives a nervous smile, then delivers a respectful Imperial bow to Gorlan. “Mister Kesh, it’s an honor to meet you in person. I am Samantha Barnes, director and lead diplomat for the Gateway Research and Homeworld Defense Initiative, our primary agency for off-world contact.”
Gorlan returns the bow. “The honor is mine, Director Barnes, and I must compliment this fine group of soldiers you have assembled. Without them...” The implications of what he is saying catch up to Gorlan, and he stops mid-sentence. “Well, many things wouldn’t have happened, but they acted with the utmost honor and professionalism, and helped me to see that simply standing by and ignoring the Imperium’s corruption is no longer sufficient. I pledge my aid in whatever capacity I have, including my ties to Faxom-Io.”
Barnes smiles and bows again. “Thank you, Mr. Kesh. As you can see, Narsai is not nearly as technologically sophisticated as the Imperium at large, and we could use whatever help you or Faxom-Io can provide. Certainly, your superiors in the pan-industrium would appreciate unrestricted access to a potential market of 7 billion, all completely without anything like their wares?”
Gorlan smiles. He’s been expecting this angle ever since he walked through the Diego Garcia Gateway, and now he finally gets to deliver his response. “Of course, the market potential is unheard of, but I’m sure you can understand the...delicacy of the situation.”
“Of course,” Barnes replies. “And we have plans in place to help isolate you and Faxom-Io from any direct connection to Narsai. Please, if you’ll just follow my assistant, she can lay out the preliminary framework of the arrangement between Faxom-Io and Narsai.”
Gorlan nods, and provides a polite bow to Barnes, which she returns. “Of course. A pleasure meeting you, Director.”
“And you as well.”

As Gorlan walks off after Barnes’ assistant, she turns back to the group, the polite negotiator’s smile gone from her face and replaced by an expression of worry, and she switches from speaking Imperial to English. “So, Simmons has been back for six hours so far, and I’ve already heard that his report on his interviews on Atea have started to make the rounds in Congress and the Pentagon. I haven’t managed to get a copy yet, but I have heard that it’s very bad for us, making 815 out to be just this side of joining up with the Turai.”
The group issues a dark mumble over that bit of news. “I know, it’s bullshit, but that’s the spin from the DoD. Over the last week or so while you were on Hedion, there’s been a lot of talk around DC about the DoD making a move to ‘deal with’ the degree of autonomy that GRHDI has been given post-Whiirr, relocating Imperial defectors to Earth, making deals with the Wherren and rebels, and of course Task Force 815. I’ve been working on a plan to help us move out from under the Pentagon’s thumb, but it looks like that whoever’s backing Simmons has other ideas, and I think that they’ve got a head start on us. Needless to say, this is very bad. We can’t talk specifics in the open like this, but there’s a secure room back at GRHDI ready for us. Does anyone have anything that can’t wait until then?”
punkey 2011-05-11 13:42:56
Barnes nods behind her, completely non-plussed by Zaef's comment. "Door on the left, two doors down. Hurry up, we've got an appointment in DC in an hour," she replies in Imperial.
Ngawai smirks at Barnes' comment.

----

Once Zaef finishes up, everyone piles into the SUVs for the drive to McLean. After a moment of consternation where Swims-the-Black tries to cram his 7 foot frame into the back seat of the SUV, one of the Army MPs providing security for the convoy gives up his front passenger seat for the big wherren and the convoy gets underway. As the SUVs roll towards the entrance, the activity on the base is rather obvious, or rather, the lack of activity. Hangars empty and doors and windows fill with faces as the base watches the GRHDI convoy roll out of the Air Force base. Despite the tinted windows, the team can feel the eyes of the base watching them. Those of you in the front SUV with Swims see a ripple of apprehensive blue pass over his fur as he stares out the side window. From this distance, it's hard to tell if they're staring at you out of resentment and anger at your perceived alien-loving ways, hoping that you all wrest control from Simmons and those behind him, or simply curious as to what's going to happen next. What is clear is that the base, and probably the majority involved with the Gateways and the events transpiring on both sides, are watching your actions. The distance that you've all come from where you started could not be more acutely sensed than at that moment (or for Kadi, a sense of what you've just gotten yourself into), and that feeling stays with you as the convoy pulls out of the main gate at Andrews and onto the Beltway.

The drive back to McLean is uneventful, which stands in contrast to your arrival at the federal building that has been increasingly taken over by GRHDI. What used to be a small group of offices housing a section of the DoD that was either a joke or completely anonymous has grown to take over more than half of the building (displacing the most of the accounting and technical support annex housed there) and be visited by more high-ranking officials than the entire rest of the building has seen in years. Protesters on both sides of the Imperium/Earth culture debate are camped out on opposite sides of the gated entrance, shouting slogans at each other and haranguing GRHDI for either restricting access to the technology, culture and people of the Imperium to military personnel only, or for allowing the corrupting influence of the galaxy at large onto Earth's soil in any way, shape or form. Both groups are watched over by military and local police, who pull apart the sawhorse barricades to allow the convoy entrance to the building's parking garage.

Walking through the lobby, you all once again draw more attention than you ever considered gathering prior to crossing through the Gateway. You've all hardly spent any time off of Diego Garcia when you've even been Earthside, and finally stepping outside of that Gateway bubble is more than a shock. In the lobby, people nod respectfully in your direction and give you thumbs-up, saying things like "Good job out there" and "We're all pulling for you back home". A few people have something closer to scorn in their eyes, but it's obvious that you're more among friends than enemies here.

Upstairs in the GRHDI proper, the reaction is even more surprising. Half of the bullpen stands up out of their chairs and gives the whole team a standing ovation. Cheers and whistles ring out, and everyone wants to shake your hand and congratulate you on a job well done. Cell phone pictures are taken, especially of Luis and his new golden eyes (itself seeming at least a bit quaintly archaic compared to the Imperial voxes that everyone has habitually in their pockets, on their ears, or in Luis' case, in his head), autographs are asked for; a few of the GRHDI members in uniform even ask to trade challenge coins with the military members of the unit.

It takes five minutes just to work your way through the crowd. Davis slides instantly into a smiling, glad-handing mode while Ngawai smiles and navigates herself stealthily between her husband and the wall, but still can't avoid attention. Swims-the-Black seems more confused and embarrassed than anything at the sudden attention paid to him and responds in what little broken English and Imperial he can, while Arketta gives an awkward smile, waves to those who wave in her direction and responds quickly and kindly to questions, all the while squeezing Luis' hand tightly.

"This all seems a bit much, Garrett," Swims-the-Black says.
Davis lets go of one staffer's hand to sign a reply. "Just enjoy it while it lasts. We won't get a response like this when we drive down the road."
Swims grunts in agreement. "Fair enough."

----

Finally, the office settles down and everyone makes it into the conference room in one piece. Barnes, having slipped through the crowd early on, already has the blinds drawn, and the instant the last team member enters the room, the door is shut and the switch for the surveillance countermeasures turned on.

"Now that we're done with the ego-stroking, however deserved it is, let's get down to business," Barnes says. She slides a file folder across the table to each of you. "This is a copy of the report Simmons made to the White House and DoD this morning. You can read it, but the short version is that Task Force 815 should be regarded as a rogue organization, compromised by Imperial influences and operating far beyond the scope of its intended purpose. What's worse, is that some of the top brass in the DoD and the White House are using this report as a noose for GRHDI. Word is that the narrative they're spinning is that 815 is symptomatic of problems with GHRDI getting too cozy with the rebels and Imperials and 'losing perspective' in the war against the Imperium. They're trying to move for the President to authorize the absorption of GHRDI into CENTCOM, NORTHCOM and DARPA, cutting us completely out of the loop and letting them cut you all loose with zero repercussions." Barnes looks over at Kadi. "Warrant Officer Aaronovich, if this does happen, you'll probably be returned to SRS, but the rest of you will have to choose between sitting on the sidelines here, or finding a way back to Atea and, more likely than not, staying there."

Barnes sits down at the table. "We've seen this coming for a few months now, and I haven't been just sitting on my ass waiting for this shitstorm. I've been trying to assemble enough clout in Congress and the White House to have GRHDI removed from the DoD and transferred as an independent agency under the Executive Branch, working in conjunction with DoD, CIA and the State Department, but it's been a tough road to hoe, and the DoD is pushing this Hedion mission as proof that Task Force 815 and the GRHDI are uncontrollable." She folds her hands and leans forward over the table. "So, we need a Hail Mary pass here. Any ideas?"
Gatac 2011-05-11 19:24:48
"One idea comes straight to mind," Hugh says. "I pretend to crawl back to Simmons, like I got backlashed straight off the team. I think we've got a good shot at making him buy that, but he probably won't trust me very far unless I can go further and prove it somehow. Risky play, of course, but it might get a foot in the door."
Mister Andersen 2011-05-12 10:23:25
Kadi follows Barnes unobtrusively, her unfamiliar presence allowing her to dodge the heroworshipping glad handling the others have to endure.

"What does that achieve?" Kadi asks in response to Hugh's suggestion, slipping into English. "If this Simmons is as crafty as you paint him, he'll give you nothing and make full advantage of the schism you've offered him. No, the first thing we do is stop using Imperial as our primary language: it alienates us from those who can't speak it and sends the confusing signals about the GRHDI's" -- she pronounces the acronym 'Gruudy' -- "loyalty and agenda that Simmon's is capitalising on."

She goes on. "You might also consider reminding your brass that while the US control gate access here, they don't control the other side. The rebels have no reason to permit people whose interests don't sufficiently intersect with theirs -- who infact may well be operating in direct opposition to them -- from utilising their off-world facilities. Which (a) will leave plans for homeworld defence utterly buggered, and (b) other national governments, including mine, may well not tolerate."
punkey 2011-05-12 17:54:19
Davis and Ngawai both bristle and scowl at Kadi's comments about speaking Imperial. Arketta doesn't look as angry, but she still furrows her brow at the comment. "We've been speaking English since we got off the plane," Davis says. "We speak whatever language is appropriate for where we are."
"And when we're on Atea, why shouldn't we speak in Imperial?" Ngawai adds. "Why not just order them to speak English -"
Hugh clears his throat, and Ngawai stops her rant.
Gatac 2011-05-12 17:54:45
"Well, Sergeant Major," Hugh says with a smirk, "this team has two speeds, traditionally: subterfuge and explosions. So your talk of di-plow-mah-cee frightens and confuses me."

"If we do end up at the negotiating table, though, I think that rebel support for the GRHDI -" Hugh pronounces it 'groady', because he's not buying into a pronounciation somebody else invented - "is a good card to play. But you need more than one good card for a strong hand. I figure if there's a chance to get dirt on Simmons and his cronies, we ought to use it."
skullandscythe 2011-05-12 18:35:22
Zaef folds his arms and arcs an eyebrow skeptically. "And you can't think of a better way of getting that than telling Simmons you've seen the...the error of your ways? Cause he may hold you at arm's length, but he definitely won't let you sit idly about. Remember, Verrill, your plan isn't going to leave you as the only one locked up with a leaking reactor. Simmons will want anything and everything you can do to fuck with us, and I doubt he'll be impressed with anything but success."
Gatac 2011-05-12 19:27:41
"Not saying it's the only way," Hugh replies, "just that we wouldn't be starting from zero. I think we're all open to better ideas, though."
CrazyIvan 2011-05-13 04:43:25
Angel, for his part, does decently with the attention. Low level staff and military personnel are closer to his pay grade than he normally mixes with - young naval officers notwithstanding - and he's more than happy to make good with the troops, shaking hands and the like.

Somehow, two phone numbers also end up in his pocket.

Finally seated in the briefing room, Angel leans forward slightly. "I agree with the Brit. Righteous or not, you know a heavy use of Imperial raises eyebrows," he looks straight at Davis at this part, "even among the folks on our side. Besides, it's polite. Civilian types complain all the time when we show up and shoot off the usual volleys of alphabet soup acronyms. Imperial isn't much different."

He gives Nagwai a sympathetic look. "For the moment, I think stubbornness serves us less well than not giving Simmons and his ilk more ammunition. I'd rather stick to English for a few weeks than see that smug bastard get himself a political appointment at our expense."
Mister Andersen 2011-05-13 06:58:05
"Simmons isn't going to leave any dirt where he expects you to be moving; expect it to be safely comparmentalised. Especially when you consider that on the face of it, what he's attempting to do by excising the GRHDI is entirely above board and allegedly in the national -- and again, I stress his myopic focus -- interest."

She turns and looks at another of the elephants in the room. "From a strategic viewpoint, Sergeant, the eyes were a mistake. First, like 815's casual preference for Imperial it sets you apart from the average person. More than that, you've voluntarily physically compromised yourself with non-terrestial technology without, I suspect, even seeking operational permission from the GRHDI to do so.

"If I were Simmons, I would at this very minute being seeking to have your security clearance downgraded and trying to get you classified as possessing, or even just being, restricted technology. Which, given the utter shit storm the Sheen caused, he may very well suceed at doing under the whole 'once bitten,twice shy' mentality. At best I think you'll be under 24 hr armed escort inside the week unless the GRHDI can produce evidence of upper echelon authorisation for the procedure and comprehensive technical justfication why the eyes aren't a security risk."

She shakes her head. "Simply put, Sergeant, that even if the GRHDI can fight off the powergrab, it seems to me thay you will be an inevitable victim."
punkey 2011-05-13 07:06:36
Davis returns Angel's pointed look. "Okay, let's just clear the air, here, because obviously you guys expect me to roll out to Congress in my Arakuna getup and start citing the 16 Codes of the Scarlet Banner in front of the House." Barnes shakes her head a bit at his outburst, while Ngawai settles for a middle ground between concerned and supportive. "I'm speaking English, have been since we landed at Andrews and will continue to do so when not in private. I know when it's time to let my hair down and when it's time to keep up appearances and do like the Romans do to get what I want. I am a spy, guys, I know how Washington works, and I've been in the Beltway a damn sight longer than the rest of you."

"When I first showed up at Mesas Negras, I know you were wondering if I was too much of a Washington DC suit to be any use on a mission, and now, you're all apparently wondering if I'll go back in one. Well, my good suit is in my bags, and my shoes are shined and ready. Just because I have an accent doesn't mean I've forgotten how to clean up my act." He looks around the table. He's frustrated, but not attacking the team, more surprised that this is an issue at all. Swims-the-Black grunts and nods his head next to him, his fur showing the same as Davis' face. "Okay?"
CrazyIvan 2011-05-13 07:10:10
"Davis" Angel says in a flat, even tone. "The suit was never why I wondered if you were any use."

He winks. "It's not an issue. But it is making sure we're all on the same page. It's like checking your ammo - odds are its there, but you're not sure its there until you look. And my isn't it awkward if it isn't."
punkey 2011-05-13 08:57:57
Ngawai looks across the table at Angel. "It's going to be bad enough when the cowardly scrofa in the government start in on us, Angel. I, for one, could do without being insulted and told to forget where I came from by my own team." This time, Arketta nods along.

So this is going to be a thing. "Good thing I didn't tell you to do that then. We're standing up for us - the real us. But if Davis can still be Davis speaking Imperial with you, or on the Atea, or I can somehow manage to still be me while pretending to be a fabulously wealthy, not to mention gay, Inquisitor-Duelist, then I think where you came from will come out in tact. It's subterfuge for a purpose." He spreads his hands. "As for it getting brought up - we're clearly not all on the same page, so I can't say I regret it."
"No, we are on the same page," Davis says, putting a hand on Ngawai's arms. "Angel, I get your concern. It's just...you can imagine how insulting telling any of us to stop doing something that we've already stopped, something that is part of who we are, could be."

Angel's expression hardens a bit. "I know something about it, yes. As for having stopped, you and Swims were signing in the lobby. Because it's second nature now. Which is why it needed to be said."
"I speak his language because that's the respectful thing to do, that's all," Davis says. "If Swims-the-Black is fine with me speaking English with him while we're here, then I'll do that."
"It's the respectful thing to do. And Simmons is going to pounce on it, because he doesn't give a shit about the respectful thing. He's shown that, amply. It's a shitty thing to have to do, but I'd rather it come from me than some nameless committee member who would rather we all forget that half of 815 is Imperial." He ignores Davis for a moment, his gaze shifting to Arketta and Ngawai. "Because you both should know by now how I feel about you."

Arketta and Ngawai separately nod. "Yes, I know," Ngawai says. "That's why I was surprised by what you said."
"Me too," Arketta says. "I thought you knew us well enough to know that you didn't need to say anything."
"Like I said, it's second nature. For all of us. And frankly, Kadi doesn't know you. But if she's part of 815, I'm not going to let her twist in the wind either."

Arketta nods. Ngawai stares at Angel for a few moments. He can tell that he struck a nerve with her and all of this "being too Imperial" bullshit.
"Fine." She sits back. "Sorry, Angel, it's just..."
"Ngawai. I've spent the past few weeks hearing that I betrayed my homeworld, that I've gone native, and had all manner of unkind things said about my character," Angel says. "Then hearing from the other end that I need to either come back into the fold, or turn into some righteous angel of destruction aimed straight at the heart of the Imperium. We all have. I'd rather not give Simmons anything else, even if it means you glaring at me for a few days."
Ngawai keeps the look up for a moment, then nods and gives Angel a sly half-smile. "Fair enough."
punkey 2011-05-13 09:19:45
Kadi doesn't bother to further address the speaking in English thing given Angel's able defence of her point.

"Look, no offence, Agent Davis, but spies go native," Kadi remarks casually. "And they lie professionally for a living. Simmons and his people will undoubtedly be harping on this fact in senatorial ears in an attempt to taint you and those associated with you. The GRHDI should probably be hitting him with similar tactics. Who in your military-industrial complex benefits from the shift in power? What sort of control and accountability mechanisms will be put in place? How will foreign powers respond."

She shrugs. "The UK is aware of the basics of what's going on here in terms of the organisational power play. If the plan is for the GRHDI to establish itself as a department of your Office of Homeland Security, I think it's fair to note that the Home Office -- that is, my government -- likes the idea. Civillian cooperation has always been more amenable than military between our countries. Certainly more transparent."
punkey 2011-05-13 09:44:01
Davis lets the culture debate slide and turns to Kadi. "I think there's a simpler way to go about this. Simmons and his group are simply banking on throwing the weight of the Department of Defense and whoever else they have against the GRHDI. Well, the government and this war are a lot bigger than just whoever they are. I think that if we get everyone to speak out in defense of the GRHDI and against this Pentagon scheme, we can get the President to side with us."

"We talk to the people on the ground, get them to make it clear that the vast majority of the forces fighting this war demand that GRHDI be calling the shots. We talk to the rebels, like you suggested, Kadi," he nods in her direction, "we talk to the Sheen, the Wherren, the commanders on the ground on Boranai and Whiirr, and whoever else has clout in this mess. If you're really up for it, Hugh, you can go in with Simmons and gather what dirt and info you can on the people behind this, then we get them on audio being dismissive and working against us and against the rebels and add that to the stack against them. They're trying to bully us out of the war, I say we show them that they're not just up against 815 and the GRHDI."