[color=662d91][center][b][h1][img]http://i.imgur.com/CnDC7BD.png[/img][/h1][/b][/center][/color]
[right][hr][color=gray][b]Smith's Rest, New Anchorage | HQ[/b]
March 27th, 2677[/color][hr][/right]
Vera didn’t remain in the cafeteria long after she finished eating. Normally she wouldn’t have minded sticking around to chat up the other pilots, but with some of the more familiar faces already miles away, piling onto the morning’s general discomfort, she politely excused herself to Joshua and headed into the hall.

It would be time to start training soon, she guessed. She’d hook herself into one of the simulations and spend a few hours getting used to the feeling of being, well, a giant robot. Equal parts thrilling and unsettling. But before that…

The Jackspar house was built on routines. Mom had them, Vera had them, and Lizzy had them. Her sister’s had transferred the easiest into their new lives, and so that made her daily haunts predictable. It was morning, there were no pressing engagements, so Vera determined that she should veer to the pilots’ gym. Lizzy always did physical warmups out of bed, then again after breakfast. Back home she’d had to do them to eat at all. Now, she supposed, it was just habit. 

Sure enough Vera found her there. She was alone, and taking advantage of that, had music blaring from her data-tool so loud it nearly floored Vera when she opened the door. Thankfully the walls were thick. Even more thankfully, Lizzy noticed her immediately and lowered the volume—not completely, but enough. Vera couldn’t fault her for it, back home every day for her had been silence. 

[color=6ecff6]“Vi,”[/color] she greeted, monotone, but Vera deciphered a pleasantness in it. [color=6ecff6]“You’re up early.”[/color]

[color=662d91]“Everyone is today, I think.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“It would seem,”[/color] Lizzy huffed. She’d taken up at the chain-dangling punching bag, and it looked as if she’d been at it for a while. Her fatigue jacket hung by the door, and the pants were rolled up high on her shins. Recently she’d taken to pulling her hair back into a tail when she trained, and while Vera thought it looked nice, tough even, part of her worried she might eventually just cut it all off. 

Lizzy assumed a fighting stance, and went to work on the bag again. Vera hopped onto the small rise of the makeshift boxing ring and sat there by the data-tool, watching her. There was a striking dissimilarity—to her, at least—in the way her sister fought, and how she danced. In the comfort and privacy of her hobby, with Vera her opposite, she was like a tide. She was serene, moving to and fro as the waves did, imperceptibly, rising and falling with elegance that might have been orchestrated by similarly cosmic forces. Vera knew Lizzy would never wear a dress, but liked to think that, if she did, and to delve even further into impossibility, if she danced, she might look like a drifting, ghostly sea-being—the kind that she’d read about, that were so far down they had to make their own light. 

With the bag as her partner, she was much less aquatic. Every action was sturdy—not [i]stiff[/i], but sturdy—every movement sure, and purposeful. The ambiguity was not for her, it was for the bag. She did not stop to consider her partner, to let it breath or to move in accordance with it, [i]she[/i] had the lead. When she pivoted, and the bag swung past her, she’d just as quickly yank the momentum from it with a flurry of fists, knees and elbows. No, these were very much strong, unyielding, [i]earthy[/i] movements.

[color=662d91]“So Percy, Stein and Alan took off for the mission,”[/color] Vera said. 

[color=6ecff6]“I’m aware,”[/color] Lizzy hissed between strikes. 

[color=662d91]“Think they’ll be alright?”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“I think at least one of them will be.”[/color]

Vera might have laughed if she thought Lizzy was trying to be funny, but she knew the statement, and the lack of faith, were sincere. The curtness surprised her nonetheless. 

[color=662d91]“You alright? You seem upset.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“I’m fine.”[/color]

[color=662d91]“Did you want to go?”[/color] 

Lizzy struck the bag a tad harder. The chain shrieked. [color=6ecff6]“I’m a soldier of New Anchorage, of course I wanted to go. All of us should [i]want[/i] to go. I’m sure Fouren and Moore were just [i]thrilled[/i] for the opportunity.”[/color]

[color=662d91]“Right,”[/color] Vera mumbled. [color=662d91]“You…sure you’re not mad?”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“I am not [i]mad[/i]. It’s not my place to voice doubts in the decisions of my superiors. I won’t pretend like I understand Graham’s reasoning. But I am not [i]mad[/i].”[/color] Lizzy’s focus on the bag grew more intense. She struck harder, faster, dipped the swings she let through and followed up on them with ferocity that made Vera feel a bit bad for the stitched-up sack of stuffing. She went on. [color=6ecff6]“Our first contact with this settlement in months—if not longer. They need help, we want to establish relations. What should we do? We should send a team who can competently navigate the Alaskan front, effectively handle any raider presence, and properly represent the operations and interests of New Anchorage. I know, let’s send the Russian, the Waster, and [i]Moore![/i]”[/color]

Percy’s name was punctuated with a particularly weighty uppercut that sent the chain warbling. Lizzy exhaled and held the bag steady. 

[color=6ecff6]“Uh. Don’t tell Percy I said that.”[/color] she said, catching her breath. [color=6ecff6]“I’m…trying to be nicer. To people.”[/color]

Vera laughed, somewhere between nervous and genuine. On one hand it was nice to see Lizzy get passionate, on the other, she worried about how many of those punches could have been meant for Percy, or Alan, or anyone else. 

[color=662d91]“For what it’s worth, pretty sure they’re just going there to help. Don’t think it’s a negotiation.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“Everything is a negotiation.”[/color] The words were cold, certain, and familiar. Vera wasn’t sure how she felt hearing her sister repeat one of mom’s mantras. Before she could dwell to long on it, Lizzy changed the subject. [color=6ecff6] “Have you seen Madison this morning?”[/color] 

[color=662d91]“Oh,”[/color] Vera blinked herself back. [color=662d91]“Uh, no, I haven't She wasn’t in the dining hall yet when I was there. You lookin’ for her?”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“Yes. There’s something I’d like to talk to her about.”[/color]

Lizzy snagged her data-tool, her jacket, and slid into her boots. She checked back over her shoulder as she tidied up her uniform, and it seemed to Vera like she was being analyzed. 

[color=6ecff6]“How’s the plug? Are you sleeping alright?”[/color]

[color=662d91]“It’s fine.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“It’ll be a bit uncomfortable for a while, but if it gets too bad or it starts hurting all the time, you should talk to Lofgren.”[/color]

Vera giggled. [color=662d91]“It’s fine, Lizzy. Really. I’m good. I’m even training.”[/color]

Her sister smiled, just barely. [color=6ecff6]“I’ll have to hear all about it, later. I’m going to check the mess hall. If you need me later, I’ll be around.”[/color]

They waved goodbye, then Lizzy left. Vera hopped down from the ring, and considered staying for a bit. She threw a few jabs at the bag, but found it was much tougher than she’d thought, and remembered anyway that she had other, more important things to do, like find Stein’s father. The conversation with Josh had distracted her again, but now she was awake, she’d eaten, she was focused. 

Vera barged back out into the hall, and set out for Mr. Kalfox’s office. She was determined to get answers, or at least warn him that a big fan of his had come to town.