[b]Totalist Union. Sector 0001. Centre System. Aboard Floating Fortress AA-#04. [/b] [img]http://www.yoursweetmemories.net/images/prod/Plain-chocolate-bar.jpg[/img] Generalissimo Dollabela-Rybalksy sighed contently as he unwrapped the bar of chocolate. The good kind, reserved for the upper echelons of the Party instead of the things they gave out to the masses. He took a bite, almost moaning when it started melting inside his mouth. Oh how he enjoyed the privileges of command. A beep from his console took the Director of Peace out of his reverie. Quickly recomposing himself, the Generalissimo accepted the call from his secretary, telling him that his guests had arrived. He ordered them in as he deftly wrapped the chocolate again, throwing it inside one of the drawers of his desk. Moments later, one of his proteges entered his personal office. Tall, broad shouldered and stern faced, General Harold Lindsay was the picture of a proper Totalist officer. Though what really caught the Generalissimo's attention was his unshakable loyalty and willingness to obey without question. The General saluted and sat silently, waiting for his superior to start, as it should be. “General, I have a mission for you.” That was one of the things that put Lindsay in the Director's good graces, he didn't had to sugar coat or flatter with him. “Consider it a personal task instead of a military one.” Lindsay's reaction was almost imperceptible, but the Generalissimo knew his protege well enough to know that he was interested. Though he remained silent. “As it has already been decided, you will be leading the vanguard of the landings in OLA-519. The defense there is led by General Bocanegra. Surely you've already heard of her.” He said disdainfully. “Our friend, the Director of Truth seems determined to remind the entire State of how she heroically defended the planet during these last two years. What I want from you is to access whether this Bocanegra is one of Fiannecci's creatures. Understood, General?” “Yes, General.” Lindsay nodded. “Anything else?” “No, not now.” The Generalissimo shook his head. “You are dismissed. Return to your transport and finish your preparations. We depart tomorrow morning.” The General left and the Director quickly returned to his chocolate. He would deal with Bocanegra and the Collective later, hopefully Bocanegra was aware of the immense stupidity of supporting Director Fianecci. She was competent enough and it would be a pity see her career and life ruined because she was too stupid to not know to whom her loyalty was owned. But such were the necessities of politics. [b]Totalist Union. Sector 0021. System 092-B. Planet JHS-294 [/b] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/f6/15/e5/f615e5ad2572db6dc5158fa3805a2d3a.jpg[/img] Dvarza's regiment had been rotated to the rearguard after the last major Collective offensive had been blunted. Though calling their current position rearguard was being charitable. The incessant pounding of long-range artillery could still be clearly heard, despite the music flooding the reinforced basement that had been re purposed as an officer's lounge. Not that it bothered the occupants of the room. The Lieutenant sat in one of the corners, nursing a half-filled glass of Victory gin and talking with Major Karaj Kurlum, from one of the few Black Banner regiments deployed on the sector. “…And these.” He continued, gesturing to his face. A thing of faded and yellowish skin with prominent veins and shiny cybernetic gray eyes. “Aren't actually direct results of the surgeries. But actually the modified Kalavrian cocktail that sometimes causes the veins in your body to become so noticeable.” The Major took a sip from his own glass. “Why modify it, though?” Ilika asked, frowning slightly. “The Kalavrian cocktail is as good as it gets. I've had it once or twice, took me out of action almost instantly. And from what they told me, the slightest change in the recipe could end up killing someone.” “No, no.” Kurlum waved her off. “The cocktail can be modified without presenting any risks to the user or affecting the performance enhancing effects.” The Major finished his glass. “It's difficult and there are very few right ways to do it. Most of them having results that are considered undesirable by most.” “Like the veiny look.” Dvarza pointed out, refilling her own glass. “And many varied kinds of pain.” Kurlum added. “As a matter of fact, this particular version gives an immediate feeling of burning inside your veins once you take it. As the time passes, it subsides to a mere dull throbbing pain.” He refilled his own glass as he sighed. “Unfortunately I'm growing resistant to the effects, even the initial rush doesn't has the same kick anymore.” He paused. “And that's not even counting the fact that the Black Banner modifications make me much more resistant to its effects. You said the cocktail took you out of commission instantly, the brew I take would give you a most agonizing death!” He finished, smiling widely at her. “Oh.” Was all Dvarza said, realization dawning in on her. “You're an adept of the Pain vehicle.” “Exactly!” Kurlum grinned at her. “It has been years since I've had free time to have a proper enlightenment session.” He downed half of his gin. “There are no monasteries here in JHS or even nearby systems, and the Collective hit the closest thing we had when they landed two years ago. So I take my pain when I can. And as long as it doesn't interferes with my duties at the front, Colonel Pardokht doesn't cares.” “That sounds reasonable.” Dvarza nodded as she took a sip of gin, that was also her position towards the Adepts under her command.“So what? Do you just whip yourself during your free time?” The Lieutenant asked, smiling. “I don't have the time for that.” The Major replied. “A proper whipping, that is part of a complete session, would leave me out of action for at least five days. Besides, self-inflicted pain doesn't really counts. That's what's great about the cocktail. Since we have to take it regularly there's no problem in suffering from it because it's not our choice.” “Really? I've got a few adepts under my command and they don't seem to care about that.” Dvarza countered, trying not to think what kind of whipping would take a Black Banner out of action for almost a week. “There are several different currents of thought within the Vehicle.” Kurlum shrugged as he moved to refill his glass. “I guess we will never found out who's right until we escape samsara.” “Hold on a bit there, mate.” Dvarza took the bottle out of the Major's reach. “This is the second bottle you finish almost by yourself. Let a sister have her fun.” “These things tend to happen.” The Major chuckled slightly. “Laugh all you want, this is probably the last good bottle of gin we will be seeing in a long time.” Dvarza replied before downing her glass in one go, grimacing as she did so. “Can't really blame them, can we?” Kurlum said, easily wrenching the bottle from the Lieutenant's hands. “The Directorate of Production has bigger priorities than Victory gin.” “That doesn't make the bootleg booze any less horrendous. But you would probably like it that way, don't you?” She joked. “Now that.” Kurlum replied, drinking straight from the bottle. “Would be self-inflicted pain.” “Show off.” Dvarza glared at the Major, as the last decent booze of their stocks disappeared before her eyes. [hider=TLDR] -The Totalist State is on the verge of counter-attacking -Some minor political intrigue developing [/hider]