[center][h2]Ziska[/h2]
Collaboration with [@Pilatus][/center]
[hr]

Seeing the Colonel walk away, Ziska seized the moment before Reya could be distracted by the repetitive questions of some MechTech. Pouncing on the other woman from the shadows, Ziska wrapped an arm around Reya’s waist, and dragged the engineer with her as she strode purposefully away from any prying ears. She knew well from experience that the hanger was hardly the place for private discussion. As the pair walked, an impish smile formed on Ziska’s lips, "You know, some MechWarriors that I know, would be [b][i]deeply, deeply offended[/i][/b] if someone tinkered with their BattleMech without warning."

Pausing, Ziska flashed an impish smile , "Of course, I harbor no such base emotions. Generous and unburdened by guilt as I am. However, I am curious. Quite curious as it so happens."

"Now, I may not be an engineer with a fancy degree like you…However, I can read a spec sheet well enough. Standard Guardian ECM is neat, but it's not as flash as what the Colonel was saying. You did something to it. You must have. Don’t misunderstand me, I don't doubt your work, of course not, but as I may be operating in exceedingly dangerous places in the very immediate future, it behooves me to ask you for some particulars..."


Reya found herself suddenly hit by a cascade of thought and emotion. Praise from the Colonel was a rare commodity and it made her heart soar that she could make his job a little bit easier especially in their current circumstance. She could burn through a technical readout or decipher a schematic almost without a thought, but his words left her wide-eyed and stunned behind the modest smile she put on when he first mentioned being happy with her subtleness in the briefing. [i][color=magenta]Go on the mission?[/color][/i] The phrase repeated in her mind like a pulsing warning light. Her mouth opened slightly like she was supposed to speak, though not a word came out as he went on describing the need for her to go along with the raiding party. Throughout the entire time she had been with the Knights, never once had he suggested sending her into the field and though he spoke with calm professionalism, the unsaid was what had driven his point home: The stakes were now at their highest and there was no longer any room for miscalculation. Sure, she could list, describe and train someone on what to look for and what to bring back, however it was just another added [i]risk[/i] and one that was within her control. The hard-logic engineer within her simply could not accept the potential of self-inflicted injury and the irony that it would be her own creation in the Raven’s ECM suite that would require such a measure of personal attention was also not lost.

He had left the decision with her, but her hyperactive mind was already processing a myriad of scenarios. [i][color=magenta]Sending you is a risk[/color][/i]. A voice in the back of her mind countered almost immediately. [i][color=magenta]What if we get hurt or even killed?![/color][/i] Her mind was racing. [i][color=magenta]Who is going to watch after us? What about Sunny? Who will take care of her?[/color][/i] The thought of the young girl having to lose another person close to her made Reya nauseous almost to the point that she didn’t even notice herself being wheeled away by Ziska. Her legs carried her along amidst the throng of activity, but she wasn’t really listening to the words of the other woman. As they made their way away from the others she found herself holding on to Ziska’s sleeve and she felt like she was in a daze when she answered with a phrase she [i]never[/i] uttered. "[color=magenta]I’m sorry.[/color]" 

She sat down on an empty ammo crate and rubbed one finger back and forth across her lips slowly while her mind was still burning along like a particle beam. "[color=magenta]We didn’t really have a lot of time to put a plan together... I can change it back.[/color]" She said, looking back across the cave at the plethora of stirring activity. "[color=magenta]The Colonel wants me to go on the mission.[/color]"

"It’s a little late to be sorry. Not that I want an apology, fancy tech is fancy tech," Ziska said, flopping down next to Reya. Tapping a beat with her boot, she hummed the first stanzas of an old shanty she had heard sung in the Periphery. Five years. Five years had gone by fast. 

Terse Thomas had taught her the song. He had taught it to the entire crew. It was yet another way to pass the long hours they spent waiting for a passing merchant to venture close enough to the derelict Warship. The ruined ship was good bait. Terse Thomas was dead, of course. Along with the rest of the crew. Davion pirate hunters, Ziska recalled. Too many of them. Too damn many of them for a ragtag band of hungover pirates to handle. She was the only one who made it. She was the only one to survive the scorching lasers, pulverizing autocannons, and endless rain of LRMs. 

She’d made it. She’d made it when no one else did. They were too stubborn to run. Too proud to retreat. Awful traits in pirates. The last stand of the drunken dozen had been little more than a slaughter. A familiar story. A common experience. She had a Cat's luck, the nine lives of a feline they had always said. Professional colleagues died. Friends perished. Lovers were offered no mercy by the galaxy and left as quickly and as brutally as any others. The no doubt storied battle, at least to the Davions, for an unnamed pirate's moon had been a grim example of how to die in the most pointless manner. It was simply another piece in a long collection of horrible memories, Ziska thought to herself, not without a familiar sense of affection.

Guided by such positive recollections, Ziska turned her attention to her companion. Reya’s demeanor, while not unexpected given the present predicament of the Green Knights, struck Ziska as quite interesting. Reya could be many things in Ziska’s experience. Confident. Loud. Brilliant. And even very, very angry on occasion. Especially if a BattleMech was returned in a state best described as [i]heavily damaged[/i]. To apologize. To show doubt. To show doubt about her own work. Well…that was certainly not the Reya that Ziska had come to know.

"Regretting [i]volunteering[/i] for a combat operation? Don’t worry, we’ve all been there. I myself regularly regret that I didn’t pursue a long and no doubt storied career in a traveling Canopian pleasure circus," Ziska said with a knowing nod, a flask sliding from one of her sleeves and into her outstretched left hand seemingly out of thin air. Taking a strong sip, Ziska grinned as the liquor burned all the way down her throat. She shoved the flask into Reya’s hand without giving her a chance to decline and spoke with fire still dancing across her tongue,"Davion vintage. Whiskey. Quite good…or so I am told. Have some, it will help, I promise."

"[color=magenta]It’s not that,[/color]" Reya answered and shook her head. "[color=magenta]He gave me a [i]choice[/i], but I have to do it. There’s just not anyone left that I would trust to make sure we get what we need.[/color]" She continued with a little bit of reservation in her tone. The words had come out more cutting than she had intended. The Green Knights had some excellent technicians, but the Colonel hadn’t asked one of them to go, he had asked her, knowing full well the risk involved.  She continued to gaze off towards some of the makeshift mechbays, passively studying the movement around the machines. "[color=magenta]I’m just kinda all over the place right now.[/color]" She said, "[color=magenta]I guess all this has made me really think about what’s important to me.[/color]" She sighed and shook her head again. Her lips and fists tightened up and she could feel another rush of emotion coming on just the same as when she was in the cockpit of Ziska’s Raven. "[color=magenta]You and Lena are the best friends I ever had and now she’s gone…[/color]" She shrugged her shoulders and opened her hands as if she were completely exhausted for an explanation to herself. "[color=magenta]Now I’m basically like Sunny’s mother… and if something happens to me then what?[/color]" 

She was tearing up but didn’t want to cry again and instead took the flask from Ziska and tipped it back, ungracefully abandoning any of the usual decorum for which she was well known. As the burning liquid went down, she looked like she was about to turn green. "[color=magenta][i]Is this paint thinner?[/i][/color]" She squeaked. ‘Davion vintage’ tasted like it would strip the varnish off a cedar chest. She coughed as the fire descended and washed through her senses. Ziska was right though. It did help. If for no other reason than to make her think about nothing else than trying to hold down the meager contents of her stomach for a moment. She breathed in deeply and rubbed one hand over her face, still feeling the effects before letting the breath go again slowly. "[color=magenta]I bypassed some of the major safety and operational protocols to make the output stronger.[/color]" She said finally, turning her gaze back to the Raven which sat quietly across the cavern. The small table she had set out for herself and Sunny remained undisturbed. Just focusing on the sharp, ready lines of the machine helped her regain some of her composure. Within these machines, she knew exactly what she was doing and her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked on thinking about the havoc it would soon cause in Ziska’s hands- it was a satisfying feeling. "[color=magenta]Functionally, you won’t notice anything different, but if we keep running it this way, it’s going to fry the ECM.[/color]" She said. "[color=magenta]I’ll have to change it back.[/color]" The statement brought about a small huff of amusement and she looked back at Ziska finally. "[color=magenta]And I probably voided your factory warranty, not that I think you’re worried about that.[/color]"

"Oh, I suspect the Cappies aren’t going to honor my warranty, either way. You know, it’s strange, rip off a merchant or two, and suddenly the Cappies aren’t very friendly any more," Ziska said, taking her flask back and swallowing another mouthful of Davion gunsmoke.
 
"I will certainly do my utmost to not ride the red line past the very red line and into the extremely red line," Ziska added, smiling once again.

"To old friends," Ziska said, toasting with the flask as her free hand flicked to her brow in a mock salute that lacked any insult, "Them’s the breaks. This is the job. I’ll miss Lena though. She had good bones. She had potential. I liked her, even when she was a big softie. She was interesting. She made me laugh. And Pops, for all his talents as a dancer, is a far less pleasant partner for an impromptu waltz."

"Do not despair, though, my dear friend. Now is a simple time," Ziska said, jumping to her feet and grabbing hold of Reya’s hands. "Now is the easy time. Now, right now is the exciting time! It's the only time any of us are really alive. We either succeed or we die…quickly and hopefully faster than we can feel it. We don’t have to worry about the future. We don’t have to regret our pasts. We have no past and we have no future. We have only now. This moment. This shitty backwater planet. We’ll have our revenge or we won't and that will be that. This is our chance to show these Crimson Fists the Canopus IV Shuffle and then we’ll make them pay. We'll make them howl with rage before we send them to dine with the damned and Stefan Amaris. For Lena, for Golden Boy, and all the other assholes that they stole from us."