[b][i]Flashback - Collab between [@Letter Bee] and [@Nimbus][/i][/b]

[b]BRP Ramon Alcaraz - 10/11/2022, 20:20 UTC+8[/b]

Noel, Nico, and Indra were back on the ship, and so was Myron. The ASEAN Flotilla had taken a beating from the PLA Navy’s battle groups, but the diversion had worked and the supply ships were getting through to Mischief Reef. Now, they could all return to Lingayen for their next deployment… Once Myron had dealt with some unfinished business.

He had left Kaitlyn, Iker, Qingshe and that newcomer Rocha in the ships; they could meet later. Right now, he had a good deed to do, one more action to make up for a childhood and adolescence lost in atrocities.

Gritting his teeth, Myron glanced down the corridor behind him. Callie hadn’t been terribly subtle in shadowing him. He gestured for her to follow him to one of the side rooms of the ship.

He had already guessed what she had seen, what Sohrab had told her about. But as he walked towards the side room, the young man knew that he wanted to come clean, and so was prepared to do so if she asked for it. 

And so the Intelligence Officer opened the door, went inside, and faced Callie, saying, “What do you want to know?”

[color=f7941d]“That easy to read, huh?”[/color] The smile on Caroline Lidmann’s face was anything [i]but[/i] kind. The whites of her teeth and eyes caught the dregs of the light, the rest of her silhouette blending into the darkness as she passed through the doorway. Her tone of voice was little better, full of frost and steel that stood guard over her intent. [color=f7941d]“Maybe I should ask you. What do you think I’d want to know, Myron?”[/color] she asked, her echoing words punctuated by the clang of the door falling shut.

The light flickered on automatically to reveal her, leant against the wall, arms crossed.

“Yes,” Myron responded with steel of his own. “People in emotional distress are that, as I’ve known through long experience. So, Sohrab told you about your father; that confirmed my own suspicions.”

He frowned and said, “Noble Arms are not genetic, but they come from personality and that vaguely-defined thing called personal growth. And your Noble Arm’s resemblance to the one held by Public Enemy #1 in the War against the Hammer has been noted, although again, Sohrab confirmed it.”

Following up with a sigh, he continued, “And of course, you look like him in a way that is almost uncanny…”

Callie’s gaze tightened. [color=f7941d]“You don’t need to bother with the whys and wherefores, Myron. And maybe don’t tell a girl she’s in ‘emotional distress’, hmm? Not very [i]polite[/i].”[/color] A tiny adjustment of her arms, perhaps just enough to serve as a reminder of what they could be holding were her mood to fall further.

Myron nodded. “I’m sorry for that remark, then. So, where should we start?”

[color=f7941d]“From the beginning, maybe.”[/color] Callie shifted in her position against the wall. [color=f7941d]“You’re the one with the intel on this man. [i]Brief me.[/i]”[/color]

The response was a nod, then a sigh, as Myron said, “Kendrick is the leader - or one of the leaders - of the Hammer of Masters, a notorious Arms Master Supremacist organization that hijacked the War on Terror by destroying several jihadist groups in Syria and taking all they had, before overrunning most of Syria, Iraq, and parts of Lebanon and Western Iran. He then proclaimed himself the ‘Malik’ - one of the Arabic words for King - of the ‘State of Masters’, and it took several years of fighting to bring him down. Even then, we could not have succeeded if he had not been so hated by the locals for being a foreigner and, well, irreligious, although his subordinates, particularly Anui-El, worshipped him.”

He paused and continued, “He had a wife, once. Or was it a lover? It was back in England, where he was born. Records were hazy, but he had connections to a group that claimed to be for ‘Equality’ between Arms Masters and non-Arms Masters but wound up being a front for the Hammer of Masters’ predecessors. Your mother - Mary, right? - was a part of that group, a Non-Arms Master member.”

Myron closed his mouth, then opened it again, perhaps noting the way that Callie’s expression shifted for the tiniest of moments to terror, then returned not to frost but to [i]ice[/i]. He continued, nonetheless: “The Disablers sent a sizable number of volunteers to the Middle East, and I was one of them. I was sixteen, I think, and I spent the next few years cooperating with everyone from deranged jihadists to arms smugglers and drug cartels to hurt Arms Masters as much as I can, through poison, explosives, sniper rifles, and eventually, targeting [i]their families[/i]. I wish the fact I was a kid myself was an excuse - but it isn’t.

“Eventually, the Malikate’s borders shrank to a city on the Syrian-Iraqi border, and I, on my eighteenth birthday, was ordered to infiltrate it as part of the final siege. I was captured and Kendrick, after showing disinterest in my fate, gave me to Anui-El for… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked at her and continued on, “Sorhab, Kendrick’s second in command, risked his life and threw away his position in order to save me. He broke into the dungeon and smuggled me out, and when I asked him why he threw away everything, he said, ‘Because I saw you, and you were beautiful’.”

Myron chuckled, and spoke, “Imagine that. I realized shortly afterward, when he left me, that the Hammer and the Disablers were mirror images of each other, fueled by hate. And I wanted no part of that anymore. That was when I grew as a person and grew my Noble Arm.”

He looked at her, then continued, “Anui-El, now dead, sought an heir for the Malik. There are other rumors that the Malik is still alive. If that’s the case… I’m done not trusting people; I’m done not trusting [i]you[/i]. Besides, you’d prefer [i]Qingshe[/i] over a deadbeat parent who abandoned you at a young age, right?”

[color=f7941d]“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,”[/color] Callie said, light laughter under her breath. Her prior mood, seemingly, was dispelled. [color=f7941d]“That’s good to know.”[/color] She leant back just a touch against the wall, arms unfurling to fall behind her back. [color=f7941d]“How’d you hear that name? ‘Mary’, I mean.”[/color]

Myron answered, “You have a dossier; I have security clearance to see the more benign parts, including your mother’s name. After that came several web searches. Either way, though, it’s not like my past is clean so why should I judge you for your own, which you can’t even control?”

Then he mused, “So, what do you plan to do with what you know now? I request that you spare Sohrab, but ‘The Malik’ and everyone else are free for you to deal with…”

Callie hummed, a quiet, warbling thing. [color=f7941d]“I don’t see how much it changes. I’m not in this for vengeance on a man I’ve never met, I’m in it because the cause here is worth fighting for. If him and his allies are fighting against that cause, then we’re fighting them. No need to complicate it beyond that… If you ever have anything on him or his subordinates, abilities, weaknesses, personal quirks that can be taken advantage of, let me know.”[/color] She flashed a smile. [color=f7941d]“Like to think I’m a pretty good student.”[/color]

Myron smiled back. “I think you are. So, it seems we both have things to do now?” he asked, not so subtly signalling an end to the meeting.

[color=f7941d]“Sure,”[/color] Callie answered, voice already a little faint as she reached the door, opened it, then half-stepped through. [color=f7941d]“Good talk.”[/color]

And in a moment, with brass flashing into her hand and space appearing where it hadn’t been previously, she was gone.