Phase IV: Romeo-Seven [Atlas]

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Phase IV: Romeo-Seven [Atlas]

-Nosi, Bridge

Waters turned a stern eye on the sensor tech.

"Are we being followed?"

"Looks like there's no major heat signatures within fifty kilometers," he replied, "I think we made a clean getaway."

"You'd think the EA wouldn't produce a ship like the Lue if they didn't have some sort of countermeasures to defeat its cloak. I still don't feel comfortable about this."

The sensor tech thought a moment, then answered, "The way I see it, they didn't expect a Lue to fall into anyone else's hands. It's probably rigged to blow if it gets boarded. We only got this one because we had men on the inside."

"Whatever the case may be, we don't have time to worry about it now. I need to have a talk with the good Doctor."

-Nosi, Brig

Waters was flanked by two security officers as she approached the hostage's cell.

"Greetings, Doctor McCrowan..."

The Coordinator simply glared at her captors, not deigning to respond.

"You know, Lizzie... May I call you that, dear? Of course I can. Anyway, as I was saying, your continued silence won't make this any easier for you, Lizzie. Don't think that you can simply wait for your friends to find you and come to your rescue like knights in shining armor. Sorry to break it to you, honey, but this whole vessel can disappear from all sensors in the wink of an eye. You've been thoroughly strip searched twice, so you certainly aren't carrying any sort of signaling device, so you can't call your friends. You may have some device implanted under your skin or in your veins, but any such transmitter would have to be so small it would have a pitifully short range. Face it, sister, you're not going to be rescued."

Rising from her bunk, McCrowan spoke at last.

"I never did like your music, you old crone!"

"Oh, poor thing, is that the best you can do?"

"What do you want from me? If you just wanted to kill me, I'd already be dead. What is it? Money? Weapons? A letter of apology?"

"If we wanted money we could've kidnapped someone else. We kidnapped you because you have two things we can't get from anyone else. Your knowledge and expertise."

"So you need a geneticist."

"A coordinator geneticist. And you're the best in the business."

"I like to think that I am. What of it?"

"You know precisely what it is that sets coordinators apart from humanity. And with the proper motivation, you could target that."

"Target that? What do you mean?"

"I mean that you could create a virus, a plague, a glorious illness which would target coordinators and coordinators alone. Hideously contagious, the pathogen would spread throughout the PLANTs, the moon, even the earth, leaving dead and dying coordinators in its wake. It would cleanse the Earth Sphere, leaving behind only the natural heirs of the blue marble, making right that grievous wrong which wicked science has wrought. You will hand us our glorious and total victory."

"And why will I betray my people in this fashion?"

"You aren't a prisoner of war here. You're not even human. To me, you're nothing but a brain and a pair of hands. As long as your brain and your hands are intact, the rest of you doesn't really matter. No international treaties will spare you from our wrath. The venerable Geneva Conventions don't exist here. And we have people who think of torture as sport. We have people who specialize in brainwashing. We can and will bend you to our will, sooner or later. We can be patient if we have to be. I will tell you this, though... every hour you delay will be another hour you spend in unimaginable pain."

"You know, you're much more cruel than I imagined."

"From a coordinator, I'll take that as a compliment. It shows I've been doing my job. I'll give you an hour to think over your situation. When I return I want to hear your final answer... Either you help us now, or you suffer until you break, then you help us. Mister Zimmerman is looking forward to finding out how much greater than normal the coordinators' tolerance for pain is. You should hear how happy he sounds when he talks about how he won't have to hold back as much as he usually does. Anyway, have fun while I'm gone. Toodle-oo!"

Waters whistled a cheery tune as she left the brig. McCrowan would break, and break quickly. It was written all over the poor woman's face. Of course, that wouldn't save her from Zimmerman. If the man had one weakness, it was an inability to trust any hostage who was eager to help.
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Walking along the figure of Kyle turned a corner with a juice pack in hand. His other hand was in his pockets as he noticed that one of the ships hot-shots and a few guards came out of the brig with a smirk on her face. He lifted an eyebrow as he placed his back against the wall and waited for the good lady to pass by without noticing him.

"Seems like interrogation will be starting soon... I haven't heard any screams yet so the Doc must still be intact. I'm curious as to how she likes her new home..." He kind of smiled and after the Madame and her armed enterage were gone he started towards the brig himself. The Doctor was behind bars and not looking too good if he said so himself.

"Howdy Doc. I hope your enjoying your time on our grand ship." He said with a smile. Sort of like the good cop bad cop senerio. Besides he wasn't a bad guy and had no intention of doing anything to the poor lady. He was in this for the vengence, not the twisted dream of wiping out coordinators. Though if they were gone he would be free of his never ending cycle of war. Without an enemy he wouldn't need to fight anymore.

He sat down on a chair nearby and took a drink from his juice. But before he finished it he offered her some. "Thirsty? I would hate to see you be thirsty after all the hard work we went through to get you here." He was still smiling and hopefully she would reconigize his voice as the one that ordered her to come out first in that short battle in the city.
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-Elizabeth McCrowan

"My guess is that you're here to administer a psychoactive substance to me through that liquid in order to make me more suggestible. However, I was told by Waters that I was to be left alone for this next hour. You're breaking her promise, and frankly, that makes me feel less than inclined to deal with you all. So I'm afraid your little attempt to win me over with a little kindness and a little cocktail of drugs isn't going to work."
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"Eh...?" Kyle was caught off guard as he finished the juice off. He made a yum yum sound and then threw it away. "Your loss mam. Besides I don't dirty my hands with that kind of work so no need to worry. I'm just a bored mobile suit pilot that thought he would poke his head in and say hi. But if you honestly want to be alone then I'm going to leave. Say hi to dungeon master though for me." He said with another smile and started to get up. He gave the woman a final look and then a small two finger salute.

"Au revoir Madame. Bon journée." With that he started to leave since she had obviously wanted him too.
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- Girty Lue-class Nosi -
- Mobile Suit Bay -


Enzo fidgeted in his Dagger L, unsure what to do. He remembered enough about the briefing for the operation to know that, after returning to the Nosi with the VIP, the flagship would cloak and slip away. Enzo didn't remember how they were supposed to know when everything was over, though.

When he saw Commander O'Connor out of his Dagger and watching the VIP dragged away across the MS bay's deck, Enzo figured he knew whom to ask. The Commander, he'd learned in training, usually knew everything that needed knowing.

In spite of every other pilot having already disembarked their respective machines, Enzo was timid in exiting his own. The weak Lunar gravity allowed him to safely drop to the deck from the cockpit with only occasional grips onto the passing leg of his mobile suit to slow his descent.

When he touched down, Enzo made his way over to Commander O'Connor, saluted, and intoned, "Commander, uh, sir?"
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-O'Connor

"Commander, uh, sir?"

Matt grinned a little. He recognized that voice. Ensign Enzo Cagliari. About as green as a leaf in spring, but a good kid.

"What is it, Ensign? Something on your mind?"
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- Girty Lue-class Nosi -
- Mobile Suit Bay -


Chien

Now that the Nosi had seemingly escaped to safety, it didn't make much sense for the pilots to remain on alert. However that didn't mean they should slack off ether. Since Chien's Aile Dagger L had seen combat it was now a good time to do a check and make sure the Mobile Suit was in working order.

"Hey, tech monkeys!" He called out to the nearest maintenance team, "Give 'er a look over. And be sure to leave a mint on the seat when you're done."

"Ha, Ensign Hsu, you wouldn't be pleased with what I'd leave ya!" Yelled one of the crew.

Chien and the rest cracked up.

Patty

Now that they weren't on alert Patty didn't feel like sitting in the cramped cockpit of her Mobile Suit. She made her way to the pilots ready room and sat down in a chair. Since the gravity wasn't that strong she buckled the belt attached to the chair so she wouldn't go flying out of the seat if anything sudden happened.

Resting her helmet on the floor she pulled out a sudoku puzzle book and started working on another puzzle.
"Kamille, if it wasn't for you...." Jerid's last words

"You bastard... You don't get it! I'm... I'm special! I'm famous! I'm the king of mock battles!" Patrick
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Bridge

"Still nothing?" Cherryh Suhndey questioned the sensors technician.

"Still nothing," came the reply.

Cherryh began to look even further chipper and began to relax. Helming the Nosi with one hand as they continued on course.

"Shame we still couldn't watch the fireworks," he said. "Love to see the 14th's reaction after it all comes together for them. Almost makes you feel sorry for them--Hedland and Durnfell?" Loosening his seat belt to better lean back while they pulled away from the moon's gravity.

"Still active and limping along."

"... lowering engine output so they can catch up," he said after a pause.
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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- Girty Lue-class Nosi -
- Mobile Suit Bay -


Enzo's eyes flitted about for only a fraction of a second, until he willed them to remain locked with O'Connor's powerful gaze.

"It's just that, uh, I see everyone left their mobile suits and started walking around, sir, but I don't remember you saying we were clear or that the mission was over or anything, sir. So, uh, I figured I'd ask you, sir."
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With a wave he left the brig leaving the good doctor alone again. She had been a bit of a *insert word* to him when he had just tried to be nice. But then again he couldn't blame her for being distrustful since they did kidnap her and plan to use her to wipe out coordinators. While that wasn't his goal in all this, it was still an interesting plot point. Then again he felt like a monster even concidering that... His parents hadn't raised him to concider genocide fun. What made them all any different than the Nazis or any other group trying to wipe out a race of humans?

"Jeesh i'm thinking to much about this... I need to just do my job and get through it all." With that he started to walk down the hallway towards the Cafeteria/lounge. Nobody was there it seemed so after finding the vending machine in the corner he placed a token in there and out came a pre-packaged thing of hot cafe. With the hot package in his hand he sat down at a table and took a sip without worrying about the hot content burning his tongue.
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They were not being chased after all, Cherryh supposed, and he believed the Nosi was in capable enough hands with Lt. Neilson Wayans at the helm. Cheeryh knew that since Wayans was once an employee of his--Cherryh sighed, those were better times. Days of adventure and wealth, to him.

With one hand on the wall conveyor belt's handlerail, he floated down the ship's corridors whilst his other hand searched in the breast pockets of his off-white guayabera. Eventually he retrieved an ivory cigarette holder from, slide it in his mouth then retrieved a genuine, sterling silver cigarette case from the other by the time he floated into the cafeteria-n-lounge room of the ship.

"Others must be celebrating," his words coming clearly with the cigarette holder at one corner of his mouth as he spoke to the only other person in the room while fishing for his lighter in another breast pocket, trying to stare at who he assumed to be a pilot. It wasn't often that he saw people with naturally red hair up here in space, or maybe natural redhair that didn't belong to a woman. And even though the pilot wasn't a woman, he still wanted to touch his hair.

"So, do you think the 14th will be having kittens or dropping bricks once they find out?" Lighting the cigarette and changing the subject that was occupying his mind for a moment.
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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"Let them..." Kyle said with a bit of a sigh as he took another drink. Some man just showed up and instead of talking to himself like a normal person he made an open ended statement. The veteran pilot looked at the guy who took out what appeared to be a cigarette and frowned. He decided to answer the guys second remark, which was a question before he got into an anti-smoking mode.

"Doesn't matter to me what they do. The soldiers want to fight because thats what soldiers do, so I'm pretty sure they won't lose sleep over this. Even if they were being used." He finished his drink quickly and then glared at the cigarette. "I'm pretty sure you know those things are dangerous for your health right? I'm sure you do actually..." He had started but kind of trickled off melodramatically as his mind wandered off wondering about how many soldiers would die in that battle that they started. He sort of felt bad for the EA fleet since they were still his brother and sisters and no matter what happened he still concidered himself a member of OMNI.
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"One of those," Cheeryh said with grin then almost giggled and wanted to also bring alcohol into this as well but managed to contain himself. as he began to scan the vending machines' products.

"Considering how much of human space will come after us," striding over to the vending machines and scanning their wares. "They may do me in long before anything else," he almost politely turned away from the man and gently exhaled a long string of smoke in the direction of an air filtration vent.

"So as space age desperadoes, why not drink, smoke, eat and even love a little before that time comes?" Gesturing his finger into guns and pulling the trigger at the vending machine in front of him. "Until then, one of my few regrets will not being able to see the look on both ZAFT's and OMNI's face in realizing who escaped from them and what we're to accomplish because of their screw up."

"Oh my," slipping the cigarette holder from his lips between two finger. "I see no fresh organic produce in her," mocking the pilot. "Oh wait--there's a bag of chips here made from organic potatoes."
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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Kyle turned a bit as the guy seemed to be laughing at him a little. It was rather embrassing in a way because he already felt ashamed in his performance in that last battle. He was infuriated actually at his performance and this man being here mocking him didn't help.

"I don't give a damn about organic potatoes just like I don't give a damn about naturals or coordinators." He didn't say this but breath in almost inaudibly. Then he took the space age cafe and threw it into bin on the wall in one shot. He wasn't happy and if felt like the entire universe was laughing at him.

"I'm a soldier not a butch damnit... This entire group won't survive the coming storm and yet you act cool about it all. Like we are glorified outlaws in the old American west. I can't figure out what is so cool about attacking a city and taking some idiotic scientist hostage. If we really want to be glorious desperadoes then we should raid the enemy and destroy their military." His hands clenched into fists and he was ready to bash the wooden table in front of him in. He felt like a monster instead of a soldier and that wasn't what he wanted.
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"Last I checked," Cherryh began began matter-of-factly typing and pushing buttons on the vending machines with one hand, "something called 'modern warfare' began sometime back in beginning of the 20th century. As a result, civilians slowly became collateral damage and fair game in the process."

Smoothly he slid the cigarette holder between one corner of his lips while holding a drink pouch and bag of chips between fingers in his other hand. "The most recent war? Some hell of a display of 'modern warfare' in that case."

"As a 'moonie' or 'loonie' myself, I do have my regrets and condolences. But to be honest with you... friend?" For a moment Cherry almost sat down at the table directly across from him, but instead walked around and sat on the same side, at the table's edge instead without once looking at him. "You do not seem like the naive type. You... 'saddled up' with an extremist--heck, terrorist--organization using military grade weaponry and hardware while operating with limited resources--which is why a re-established civilian like me has become the getaway driver for your flagship and you expected what now?"

Cherryh took a slow drag after hearing him out. Turned away from him and exhaled in the other direction before finally looking at him. "You're an officer or something," looking him over. "And a pilot. Shouldn't you have far more pull than me to decide mission parameters or whatever?"
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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Kyle looked at the guy and realized he was being judged and rather harshly at that. He just glared back as the guy basically questioned his ability to do his job or his loyalty to the cause. But as he thought more about it, it became clear he was being weak and thinking about all this too much.

"I'm sorry... I've let my emotions override my ability to reason." He started out placing his head in his hands and staring at the table blankly. He felt rather childish at all this because he was a soldier and this was his life. He shouldn't be acting like a pansy.

"I guess I'm just shaken up that I'm fighting my own friends in OMNI. I was under examination for joining Phantom Pain but I joined this because I wanted to continue the war that shouldn't have ended. I guess I just didn't expect to be doing this..." That was all he said as he leaned back and stared at the ceiling with a blank look on his face.
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"Welcome back then space cadet," Cheeryh eased the bag of chips open.

Phantom Pain? Wondering between his words. Searching his mind for anything he could remember hearing about them.

"Because we're going ta need your wits about you, to help keep us alive, once the chase really begins," almost feeling sorry and even feeling sympathy towards the man and whatever was running about his mind.

"You have no friends with ZAFT, that's a given of course. And OMNI will likely ask questions later after finally taking their finger off the trigger," a grim smile at his lips. "All we have now is one another and those like us for the time being."
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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"Yeah you have a point there... I guess I should get use to the fact that I'm a traitor and likely to be shot if I'm ever caught. But then again I doubt that too... After all I'm valuable to OMNI due to my spacial awareness. Odds are they will just reprogram me and pump me full of those performance enhancement drugs like those other poor bastards." He replied with a bit of a smile and a joke. He had no plans to let that happen because those poor Extended never survived for very long and he wouldn't turn into that.

"So what brings someone like you into this outfit? I've noticed that most of the people here have never even been in the military let alone had extensive mobile suit training." He started to get onto a new subject that intrigued him. He had met everyone from psychopaths to mercenaries in this group and it bothered him a little to be relying on them now. They didn't play the same game or work the same way as those from the military did and he still wasn't sold the idea they were valuable members of this organization.
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Cherryh held up three fingers, bringing them down as he spoke three words. "Money. Power. Respect."

He managed to slide the cigarette holder from between his clench teeth. "Ever since OMNI... drafted me," plucking a potato chip from the bag with his other hand, "taking part in the war bankrupted me of all three. My business went under--many of my employees and partners either dead or migrated to Earth along with many other Naturals because ZAFT won. Almost all of my assets were frozen or seized to pay off debts. And my cozy little life was taken from me," harshly stuffing the chips into his mouth.

The cigarette holder in one hand bobbed up and down like a metronome while he chewed. "Rebuilding myself, the way I want to, up here in space under society's current environment has been nothing less of trying and a chore. The Coordinators don't make it easy on you, even less so if they find out you fought for OMNI," fiercely looking into the bag of chips with offense. Damning OMNI for it's failure at victory and ZAFT that was succeeding in establishing a new structure of power here in space whose citizens could be less than accommodating to Cheeryh as he tried to re-establishing his own place in space.

"I rather be shot at before I ever give serious consideration to becoming an air-space pilot like my parents or even give in to joining the Junk Guild," intentionally stating in irony while he tried to hold himself back from fuming.
Hmm. Luke, this Gundam reminds me of a puzzle.

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Kyle listened to the guy go on about how ZAFT ruined his life and part of him wanted to pipe up and correct the guy. So he did because he disliked hearing that ZAFT won the war when clearly both sides had been defeated by that Lucus broad and her hyper powered gundams.

"Actually ZAFT never defeated us. During that last battle the Three Ship Alliance or whatever they called themselves forced the cease fire. We were never ready to quit fighting and I should know cause I had been there. My 101 was still operational after the final shots were fired." He said remembering bad times. He had been one of the few pilots at that time to use the Gunbarrel striker during that last battle with his 101. He actually missed that mobile suit for some reason. It might have been older than the Dagger L but it was meant for people like him and the others in his squad.

"So basically ZAFT caused all your problems. Sounds like the perfect excuse to make them pay in my book. I just don't have a good reason like you for joining this thing. I just want to continue the war and fight some more before I'm killed gloriously on the battlefield." That sounded so corny to him but it was true. He didn't care about wiping out all coordinators because his personal war was still raging and this outfit was the only way to truly quench that thirst. He needed this war to mask the fact the last one and torn him apart.
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