Mema-Ka

Mema-Ka stood firm in place, his boots neatly placed together as he listened to what the others in the room had to say. Hearing Arrish's laughing had just gotten him a sideway glance from the taller twin. 'A cook and a knight in one? I thought this was a tragedy, not a comedy. Regardless that one may prove difficult.' Mema-Ka pondered. Minerva had then mentioned something which had perked his ears up. Origin. 'This girl. I will have to speak with her later.' He mentally made a note on wanting to converse with Minerva. She looked like just the type of person who could aid him later down the line.

Mema-Ka's gaze momentarily wandered over to Bug, his tone of voice was something that Mema-Ka didn't like, it reminded him too much of Arrish and Griff. Loud and chaotic. But they were great examples to him for how humans generally were, loud, persistant and eager to throw themselves headlong into whatever was in front of them. The taller twin felt as if both Bug and Arrish were both wearing masks to conceal their true selves, he had seen it appear on his own brother's face at times when he was trying to lie to him. It took a masked man to recognize other masked men. As for that Griff individual? A passionate idiot. The only mask that man would likely wear would be a luchadore wrestling mask. Arrish had struck him as a prideful and ambitious one, who conceals his desires with a carefree fascade. As for Bug? He seemed to radiate an aura of chaos. That he had been selected with the apparently stoic and quiet Ava to be the second in command of the squad did tell him plenty about what kind of man Lorenzo truly were. The complete opposite of the path he'd chosen. Still if Lorenzo could create a weapon capable of ending all the conflict, then it was a price that had to be paid. After all, the end justifies any means necessary to bring it about.

His own and Zel-Ghin's origin had set them on their respective paths, Zel-Ghin felt all was going according to fate, the preordained path selected for them. He strongly disagreed with his brother on that part, his path… was a choice. Even chosing to follow something like fate. Was a choice. Destiny beckoned to Mema-Ka, not just his destiny but that of the world itself.

Just like that one man had united mankind long ago under one banner, if one man can do such, then perhaps he could do that as well? All had to come aboard for that journey upon the ship. That choice, that path taken by that warlord in the past had united the earth, but had it truly changed anything? No. Human nature was still the same. Craving. Envious. Conflict seeking. It was however not a trait that just existed in humans, but in aliens and animals too. It were as if all life in existence were doomed to the same cycle, infected with a virus for which there were only one cure.

'Non-ordinary origins? Such a familiar feeling. Not that it matters, nothing truly does after all, but where you ultimately end up. Where we all end up. Destiny is at hand.' Mema-Ka mused in his head, then focused on Lorenzo as he spoke to him and showed footage from the simulation.

"Understood. Executive Officer, do forgive my youthful ignorance on the matter. You are completely correct." He made a butlerlike bowing motion, one hand placed on his chest, his green hair momentarily casting shade over the upper parts of his face.

'There is no being more dangerous than a being who can discern between the truth and lies of the world. The chain of command, might be a leash that keep the dogs of war at bay. Life is by it's nature... chaotic. Blindness comes in more forms than one, my brother stared into the light and were blinded, others stare into the darkness and see nothing there.

The framewerk is just like us. Expendable. No matter how flowery, honeycoated or sweet poisonous you make the words out to be. You might think of them as your children, but they much like children all across time has fought wars started by their orginators. Mighty swords indeed. Like I said. A weapon. But swords can also be double-edged and cut in both ways. Your pride is beaming, Lorenzo. Pride for the framewerk, your stake in all of this has to be very personal. Well then, I hope you will be able to make them even more powerful if we are to truly put an end to everything. I wonder, did you pry their tech from the Cruxi themselves? Well... it doesn't matter as long as they will do their part, I shall do mine to make certain the song will be magnificent and end on a high note.' Mema-Ka thought to himself as he finished his salute to Lorenzo, turning around to excuse himself from the room. Steak and drinks? He considered it. He had no interest in drinking or eating right now, but it was an opportunity to get more glimses of the ones who would save the universe from the plague that had been set upon it. He finally gave a salute to Ritsu, and a slow upturn at the corner of his lips.

[The evening before the VR simulation]

---

---

He had always thought the cold air of the solaire was unyielding. Better than being out in a frosty landscape but hardly comfortable either. It was summed up in a single word, sterile. He supposed it was easier to take care of it’s population if people weren’t getting sick all the time and mold wasn’t growing where important and often sensitive technology was at. There was another reason, he thought, that it was always so cold to keep people alert and on edge. An attack could happen at any time and the human condition was such that the cold hair poked and prodded at their nerves as though to remind them that winter was coming and it could be dark soon. Although, that might have been a more fantastical reason than just keeping mold from growing.

Thoughts and mental exercises like these were what kept Arrish busy as he took his sweet time to the kitchen. There were a couple stops he needed to make, mostly to invite the odd ship staff to the meal; Individuals he thought were worthy of his cooking for one reason or another.

That was why he when headed into the kitchen with thoughts full of cold air. He didn't slow down or even think about who or what was on the other side of the door. Lucky or unlucky for him, Stella had been there to soften his collision.

Stella had been reviewing the flowcharts to synthesize a strawberry cake of superior quality, and this all had started with sorting the strawberries. Unlike combat operations, cooking required precision, and high grip waterproof surfaces, so she had switched to her seldom used full body ABT, as it mimicked precisely the sensation and grip of human bodies. She however found it inefficient that she had to wear additional covers over the ABT in order to minimize neural disruption of human pilots. She had not been programmed to do so initially, but that had been patched in a self-programming repair not soon after.

However, the lack of integrity of one such strawberries made it so that it discharged pieces of itself on the floor, and the range of view of Stella’s feet was rather limited in some regards. The subsequent lack of friction impaired her motor skills in such a manner that she performed an anomalous movement, not dissimilar to a tackle collision on the figure known as Cadet Duval. A quick assessment revealed her front chassis had collapsed on the pilot’s facial structure and cranium. Stella quickly surmised the bump had not caused any critical damage on the fellow pilot.

“Damage assessment request: Duval, Cadet. This unit wonders if Pilot Duval is structurally sound.” Her voice droned, still sprawled over Arrish.

“Mmmph… Mmm?” Arrish had been trying to say something but with Stella’s surprisingly soft and unexpected chest in the way it was hard to say much of anything. He took his hands and firmly grasped the front of her sides and gave a gentle push upwards. …which would have worked with just about any other woman. “Mmm!?” He tried again, this time putting more force into the motion.

“Communication error detected. Clearing the channel.” Stella would say, and slamming both hands just a few inches away from Arrish's head, she frontflipped in a spectacular fashion out of Arrish's way, standing tall and looking at him. “Retrying query. Are you alright, Duval?”

Arrish felt like he was seeing stars as he looked up at this elegant and agile beauty before him. What was she even wear- wait did she say his name? Wait, was that stella? Somehow that didn’t take the dreamy eyed stare from his eyes or the blush from the cheeks, even as he went to stand back up on his legs. “Uhm, well, uhm you.. Wow, Stella. You are just. Woah.” He found himself gawking at her like a 16 year old who had just gotten his first girly magazine. “I didn’t know your model was so… so… very, very soft.” He gulped and tried to remind himself that the woman he was talking to wasn’t a woman at all. ‘Keep yourself steady, Arrish. She’s not anything you haven’t seen before anyways… ..even if there’s a lot of it.’

“R-Right. I’m sorry, what are you wearing.” Or rather, why was she wearing so little. He felt the scarlet blush on his face again and by instinct he titled his head away and put a hand up in front of his eyes. “Woah, okay. I don’t think you should be wearing that in the kitchen Stella. You might burn your ski- Err, you might get oil on your uhm, body.” Arrish froze and considered that for a moment. ‘Okay, good job genius. Way to keep your head in the gutter. We’re trying to calm down here, not heat things up.’ He took a deep breath and decided for whatever reason, turning away from her so she wasn’t in full view was the best possible decision. Just what had he walked into?

Stella looked at Arrish, her head tilting so slightly. “Full body ABT skin, gives good sensorial input, good padding and it is water proof. Better design for kitchen duties. Combined with the following items to reduce human distress: Short trousers, sleeveless shirt, Sandals, Apron, panties, bra.” She paused. “Input received, risk of contamination decreases if less clothes are worn. Removing clothes.” She said, as she moved to undo her apron.

Arrish scrambled to turn around and face Stella once again, only for happenstance to land his hands against her uhm, padding. He felt himself shrink and immediately pull his hands away and take a couple steps back. “Woah, Woah, Woah. Lets not get frisky here, Stella. We’re still on the uh, uhm, clock. C-Can’t let you be seen uh, undressed, right? Not here in the kitchen. Woah, are you crazy or something? What are you even doing in here? I didn’t think Lilim needed to eat!”

Stella stopped her undressing as she looked at Arrish. “Aborting operation.” She droned as she looked at the pilot, and his hands. “Request for hugs accepted.” Stella said, opening her arms wide as she snatched the pilot in a rather soft, fluffy approximation of mother’s embrace. “This unit is cooking for the children, and it is qualified to do so.” She said. “Does pilot Duval want to help? Good boy.” She added, lifting one hand and stroking his hair with delicate gestures.

He felt himself embrace the hug back with his arms out of instinct and a certain lizard part of his brain that was thinking to itself that this was an excellent way to be. Pressed up against a pretty girl that was soft and warm and… and… what was he thinking!? Stella wasn’t even human! Arrish with some difficulty would wedge himself free from her embrace and pop back down onto his feet. He opened his mouth to speak at first and found the words failing. He closed his eyes and mentally told himself to think, taking yet another step back as he opened his mouth again. “Stella, can you give me some space for a moment? I uh, I don’t need your lewd body all over me, okay?” He opened his eyes and forced himself to frown at her. “I came down here to work on dinner for other pilots, and I don’t need your help cooking.I shouldn’t expect you to do more than burn my steaks anyways.” He looked away from her and waved her off. There was some human part of him that felt terrible for talking to her-it- that way, but that’s all she was. He reminded herself that she was just a mechanical servant to be ordered around and not a living being with its own sense of identity… no matter how physically convincing.

Stella let Arrish go without much fight, as she stared with her inexpressive stare. “Clarification: This unit is a nursery Lilim and therefore maternal. This unit is not a recreational Lilim and therefore not lewd.” The unit would say, a hint of stress in her voice, before bowing so slightly. “Acknowledged. Yielding space to cadet Duval. “ She added as she picked her box of strawberries and began to sort them in the furthest corner of the kitchen, giving Arrish plenty of space.

Arrish looked back. “Wait, Stella.” He cursed himself for these weak emotions. He hated to see a girl in distress even if it was just the facsimile of a woman. “I mean, perhaps I spoke too soon. I could use a little help with the preparations. I mean, if you wanted to help.” He fidgeted with his feet and felt like an apologetic school boy who got angry over nothing. “And, uh, I’m sorry for calling you lewd. I would appreciate it if you put more covers on though. You’re uhm, very distracting.”

“This unit is always glad to serve humans, cadet Duval. This unit’s existence is solely to help and protect the children of humans. Unit 456 is a machine, and apologies are unnecessary.” Stella would say, before rising with her box of strawberries in tow. “Distress detected. Suggestion: May this unit wear a tactical kitchen ghillie suit to reduce her presence?”

“Uh, you know what Stella. I think I’ll just try and work through it.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “First things first, we’ll start on a big batch of potato salad and work our way up to the steaks. I’ll want to do those last, that way they’re nice and hot when everyone arrives. Hmm, it would be nice if we had more people down here. Where did the rest of the staff go anyways?” He tilted his head, now that he thought about it there was normally a small group of workers down here. He supposed it was because it was past lunch time and not quite dinner.

“Unknown.” Stella said. “Record suggests that a certain clanker must catch fire for them to return amused with the fire extinguisher.” Stella said. “Strawberry cake on hold. Procuring potatoes for the salad.” Stella would drone, and with deft and fast inhuman movements, began to grab and peel potatoes with the precision of a swiss watchmaker.

Arrish watched her motions for a moment, and then her uh, motions for a moment longer. He snapped himself out of it and began to move, gathering up a large pot to begin filling it up with cold water. He wondered how many would make it to the dinner. Griff seemed determined to go and suffer in the brig, and Jake didn’t seem like the type to join a social event. There was a part of Arrish that wanted to hunt down those two and knock their heads together until they agreed to join… but he wasn’t going to assault someone for being down in the dumps. He mentally noted that this job was better suited for someone like Serah. Maybe he would message her later.

While Stella kept up the pace with the potatoes, Arrish would move on to a family recipe of spices and sauces. He would keep out the less palatable ingredients that his family loves, focusing on making a basic but delicious mash. “Watch carefully, Stella. I want you to remember this recipe in case I’m not available to make it, okay? You can retain information right? Well this is a family recipe.”

“Inititating recording. Query: Will there be time to finish the strawberry cake afterwards?” Stella said, as she kept peeling potatoes. “Additional query: Why does pilot Bugatti exhibit flight-or-fight response in this unit presence? Nursery units should not give post traumatic disorder.”

“Oh, wow, you’re asking the big questions now, aren’t you?” Arrish muttered in response to the question about Bugatti. He hadn’t particularly noticed Stella causing Bug any sort of grief, but then again he wasn’t really on team Mango to begin with. “I don’t really know the story behind it, but I know Astolfo has had a difficult life. I don’t really pity him cause he’s a total asshole sometimes, but I do sympathize. His sister is a total nutcase for one, treated me like a dog more than a person and I had the luck not to live with her. I can’t imagine how she twisted poor bug’s head off.” He shook his head dismissing the thought. “But! For the strawberry cake, I have some ideas to improve upon it. Who is that for, anyways? Elora? Serah? How about we make everyone their own desert?”

Stella looked at Arrish. “Small talk helps neural stability during menial tasks. This unit had deficient information on Pilot Bugatti. This unit found out he did know about the extreme neural programming response when an unit has upon seeing a charge of them being hurt. This unit was successfully reconducted towards the enemy afterwards.” Stella said, off handedly. “The cake is for Liu’un, Elora, Cutie Patootie. Unit 456 promised to give one after her simulation battle.” She paused for a second. “...she is a good girl. Like Serah. This unit has a strong negative response to them going to war, but this unit must comply.”

Her gaze rested on Arrish. “Making everyone a different dessert is inefficient and beyond this unit’s capabilities. This unit however, gives a fair chance of success if Pilot Duval commandeers the kitchen.”

“I’m sure that if we work together we can make a good dish for everyone. We’ve still got plenty of time before the party after all.” Arrish continued to plop the potatoes into the pot as they went along. “Alright, question for you then Miss Stella. How does a Nursery Lilim come to be on a ship like this? You don’t exactly seem like the sort to go battering around the Cruxi, but then again, that Goose of yours is a real big menace.” He glanced over to her with a smile as another round of potatoes made their way into the pot.

“As for Bug, he’s dangerous. Dangerous in the way that running around with scissors might give you a bad cut. If you know what you’re doing with him, and I hope Lorenzo does, I think he’s valuable asset to the team and as co-squad leader. What do you think of him?”

Stella kept peeling and handing ingredients to Arrish, before the question hit her. “Nursery units must nurture children. Nursery units therefore must protect children. Nursery units must protect the children of the children. This unit fondly remembers seeing grandchildren of her first charges.” Stella droned, as her face twitched slightly. “Goose has similar operating time as this unit. Goose has also been forcefully reprogrammed with combat routines too.” Stella would reply, before moving onto the next question.

“Bugatti, Prince. He’s a good boy who tries his best. Also he has hallmarks of throughout abuse.” Stella would answer.

“Heh, a good boy. I’ll be sure to call him one.” Arrish found himself smiling at that answer but his thought did drift to what she said about Goose. Particularly the word ‘too’ Did she mean that in the sense of ‘as well’ or had someone forcefully reprogrammed Stella with combat routines? He put aside the potatoes and continued talking. “Lets move on from the potatoes for now. We can make another batch if you think there’s too much but at this point we might have leftovers. We could work on your strawberry cake if you like. Shouldn’t be too difficult to manage and it will keep well until its time to unveil the deserts. I should think we should make a banana split for that Lucius character as well. Heh, I think he would love it.”

“What do you think about our squad? Not just if they’re a good boy or not. Do you think they’re capable of talking out the Cruxi for good?”

Stella stopped peeling the potatoes, letting the knife softly on the table, as she eyed Arrish. “Unknown.” She replied, succinctly. “This unit does not have enough data to predict. This unit can only assure she will override her self-preservation routines for the human crewmembers.”

“Mmh, I suppose you have a point. Here, I’ll show you how to make a strawberry syrup that is out of this world. I learned this one back in private school, and it is, my word, the most d-d-” He had turned to look at Stella again for getting how much skin she was showing off. The mixer he was holding in his hands began to slip from his finger and he fumbled to try and get a hold of it as it slipped from his grasp. “Woah!”

Stella moved in quickly, as with the reflexes of a martial artist, she snatched the mixer in time with one hand, the other arm grabbing Arrish once against her own padded body as she gently gave the mixer back to Arrish. “...Hazard averted.” She said, her face twitching ever so slightly. Was that a expression of relief?

“Woah, okay.” He pulled himself away and panted his chest. “I’m gonna have to get my blood pressure tested after this. Wow.” Stupid. Sexy. Lilim. He thought to himself. How could he let himself get so distracted over a machine? A doll? A clanker even. He shook his head and continued to work on the recipe. “I hope you’re good at following orders because we should get this into overdrive. Once the staff gets back I’m going to put them into working on some of the side dishes and wait the tables once the party is started. Will you be joining us at the tables, Stella?” He turned towards her cautiously now, careful not to hold anything that might tumble out of his hands from his lack of focus, or from too much focus even.

Stella looked at Arrish. “Distress detected, does Pilot Duval need a comforting hug?” She said, her neutral face aimed at Arrish. “This unit is ready to comply. This unit cannot partake in human refueling, though.” Stella said.

And then something odd really happened. Stella’s face moved significantly, a wistful beaming smile plastered on her, like a spry girl greeting a new dawn. “...I do feel satisfied watching children eat well. It is my purpose to exist.” she said, her voice full of bliss and joy.

“I should think you would be seated with us, if time permits and you have no further responsibilities.” Arrish cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Stella. Please don’t worry about any uh ah ‘stress’ I’m sure its just the temperature or something. Hmm, I would like everyone to attend, but there are at least three I’m not sure are going to make it. Griff is punishing himself. Jake doesn’t think he needs or deserves to be there, and Zel, I think, is treating it as a waste of his time. I should think keeping the squad together is important, don’t you?”

There was something about Stella that Arrish really, really liked, and it made him uneasy that he liked it. The way she smiled just radiated that motherly presence that she was programmed for. It made him feel safe and watched over. A feeling like that for a machine, well, that was dangerous he told himself. He needed to watch how close he let himself be to her.

Stella’s joy was brief, as she resumed her stance. “Naughty reports exist for Griff and Zel. Information on Jake is unknown.” She paused, for what seemed an awkward long time. “Nevertheless, children, naughty or not, need to grow and eat well. This unit shall assist in finding them.”

“I wouldn’t be too harsh on them, Stella. Griff is well… I think he might be mentally stunted. I don’t think he’s as stupid as everyone thinks, but he needs someone to help catch him up.” He put his hand to his lip and considered for a moment. “I can’t say much about Zel since it seems he keeps to himself. Maybe he’s just not open to the idea of being around others.”

“Ah, a wonderful idea just came to me. What if you… but hmm.” He thought about it a little more. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to task, but Stella, would you be willing to bring them here once we’re done with your strawberry cake?”

Stella looked at Arrish for a moment. “This unit has been called stunted before too.” She interjected. “This unit maximum load capacity is sufficient for bringing them on a safe carry if need be. Unit 456 wil comply.”

Arrish frowned at Stella’s reply to calling Griff stunted. It wasn’t meant as an insult, just that Griff seemed to be behind on his education compared to everyone else. He wondered if that’s what she meant, or that she just related to the young man. “Alright, well, I trust you Stella. Now lets get to work on making that cake perfect!”

“Mission start.” Stella would nod, and prepare herself to the task at hand.

---

"That...would be the protocol, usually, yes. In the first place, due to the unorthodox structure of this project, that might not be necessary, but if you deem it proper, it doesn't hurt either, sir," Ava replied to the Professor's remarks regarding a promotion to corporal.

Corporal was still far beneath her previous rank of 2nd Lieutenant, but it was not as if Ava cared that much. Well, she could see some of the other pilots who also held previous higher ranks might worry about pay and whatnot, but money was never really an issue with her.

The more interesting thing was the fact that the Professor could bestow ranks wholly separate from their previous ranks within the Federation military, which cemented her suspicion that this project was entirely out of the normal Federation's chain of command.

She then continued, "In any case, thank you for acquiescing to my request for a talk. As the subject matter is concerning the appointment of this squad's leader, I believe it would also be good for Astolfo to be included."

If her request went through and she was allowed to be replaced as squad leader, then it would be only proper for the one replacing her, that was to say, Astolfo, to be included in the talks. At the very least, he would be able to have some say on who would be his second in command.

"...That is, if it is all right with you," Ava added, turning to Astolfo. @AtomicNut

Ava then waited for the Professor to finish addressing other matters from the rest of the squad. Which was resolved...well enough, except for the tense atmosphere between the Professor and Minerva after her outburst.

There was clearly something more going on between Professor Lorenzo and Minerva. Or rather, between the Professor and the circumstances behind Minerva's previous assignment. Which was another mystery that needed to be added to the ever-growing pile of 'oddities surrounding Framewerk Project XJ9'

After the Professor left and things had settled a bit, Ava approached Minerva @Digmata, "I understand where you are coming from. It is unbecoming for the Executive Officer to have biases toward pilots in the project. But antagonising him unnecessarily will only make things more difficult for you. I'll try to bring up the matter with the Professor and resolve the issue, so please try to keep your cool for the time being."

She might intend to reject the position of squad leader, but for the time being, she was still one, and it was only right for matters such as this to fall under her purview. So she might as well bring that up in her upcoming talk with the Professor.

---

For a moment Minerva eyes locked on the prince's face with an expression that screams to not intervene. Their conversation on their still fresh in her mind as she turn back and stare at the professor who is annoyingly seemed unbothered at what she admits is an outburst. Part of her felt her heart spike as the old man alluded to her origins but she held on, not planning on staying back and be pushed around until she got something from the old man.

"That's better." she spoke as she finally heard criticism and walking away not hearing any further comments. She would briefly stop to listen to Ava before answering.

"Do not bother yourself for me." she spoke before she heads out of the door and leave.

Griff

Griff blinked and attempted to gather his thoughts, it didn't take him as long as he thought.

'Wait a second. If what old geezer is saying what I think he's saying… then I have found a pathway to immunity to be sent to the brig? Well that was easy. All I had to do were to be okay with it. Griff. You are a genius. G-E-N-E-W-S! So that means I can be as loud as I want to the officers without being sent to the brig? Cool! But then again there are other forms of punishment.' Griff frowned for a moment as he thought of sitting by a computer or being forced to read something at a desk. That was most certainly hell. But perhaps Lorenzo was right, perhaps he had only seen a small degree of him being a jerk?

'Hey wait… what if Lorenzo is secretly a villain? What would the red ranger do? Hmm. Punch it in the face! But punching an old geezer in the face doesn't feel sportsman like.' Griff consulted himself, and nodded his head softly to himself in agreement. While Lorenzo spoke to the others. First Banana guy. Why was he getting a parrot sticker when he was on team banana? It made no sense! Unless… wasn't there a bird called a touk- Toucan? That bird had a big beak shaped like a banana. What was that lil scrawny guy's name again? Hmm. Toucan Terry. That'll do for now.

Then Lorenzo said something to Serah which Griff actually agreed with, that a pilot's true character was only truly known at a clash. But couldn't that be a team-clash against some evil aliens too? Nothing to worry about, he was going to protect his team once the real fighting begin. He had failed in the simulation, he had to think of some way to make sure he'll make it on time. Maybe a massive jet thruster would do the trick?

Then there was that other clone guy, the taller of the two who Lorenzo soon after addressed. Griff scratched his forehead. Fools follow orders? Well, good thing he wasn't a fool then! Griff beamed a slight smile, momentarily putting his depressing state of being aside. Throwing away ones framewerk? Griff couldn't do that. Shiva was his best buddy in squishing aliens and kicking ass, if Shiva was human and female then she might had been the perfect wife. After all, she has four arms! Griff's mind wandered to how much cooking, housework, weightlifting, armwrestling, chokeholds and more that could happen if Shiva had been human. It brought much needed joy to the blond.

'Ahh man... that would have been so frigging cool. A shame my baby is all metal as fuck! But the Griffman isn't gonna give up on such a dream just yet!' Griff softly nodded to himself again, trying to follow the conversation around him, occasionally drifting in and out of his own thoughts.

"A challenge?" Griff said out loud, blinking his eyes. He had a chance for redemption. Kicking an old man's butt in a simulation with his Shiva. The odds were far too good to say no! How hard could it be? With his brawn and Shiva's… brawn.. they made an excellent team.

'Cruxi fister? More like Cruxi history!' Griff thought and gathered his energy before calling out to Lorenzo.

"Challenge accepted!" He said aloud and pointed his finger towards Lorenzo. "You are going down! But first I need you to remove the drones from my Shiva and replace them with some good old extreme boosters! Uhh… in the simulation first… after some drinks and I guess one cannot fight without some steak." Griff's voice lowered slightly into a grumble as he rubbed his belly, he was really hungry. The simulation, his anger and depression had suppressed his inner voice. Well. The rumbling his stomach did.

"Uh... Sir Bug? Can people who aren't fools also join for steak and drinks? Also… did you notice that Corporal has 'oral' in it? My toothpaste says the same thing, pretty cool right? I really need some drink after the fighting. The ending upset more than my stomach. Someone should probably go fetch… uhh… clone number two guy and helmet dude. One more thing. I heard them calling you that other name before. Are you related to Atty? Bug Atty? Seems sort of odd since Atty is a framewerk... how does that even work?" The blond scatched his cheek with his fingers, his eyes looking upwards as if the answers were written slightly above him.

Serah kept her hands folded behind her head as everyone else started to chime in on things. Some had intense reactions, some barely felt bad at all. Arrish in particular stood out, laughing like mad for some reason. Serah kind of understood where he was coming from though- Stella planting a parrot sticker on Lucius' uniform was funny. Speaking of him, the boy answered Serah's question in Lorenzo's stead. He explained how its about how people react under pressure, seeing everyone's weaknesses and strengths. Didn't make much sense to her, though. Nothing about that facilitated them having to fight each-other. There's a bunch of other training exercises that could've been done to her mind, especially with simulation technology at everyone's fingertips.

Lorenzo's followup clarifying things further didn't help much either. Serah knew none of the simulation was real, that she'd be fine in the end- that's why she got reckless. Still, one thing did ring true- when two people clash, their true character is revealed. Not too long after, he chastised Mema-ka for discarding his frame like a tool.

'You go professor. You're not such a bad guy after all!' she thought to herself all smug-like. Whatever sense of unease she'd felt from Lorenzo when she met him was quickly dissipating. He'd been reasonable so far- heck, she agreed with him on almost everything. Didn't take long for Lorenzo to issue a challenge to all the pilots after, with the old man piloting a frame known as... "The Cruxi Fister". Serah could barely hold back the laughter, though a grin was still plastered across her face. The competitive spirit inside of her flared up again. "A pilot’s true character is only truly known at the moment they clash with another," those were his own words. Serah was going to find out for herself how what the good professor was truly made of. Though...

"Do not bother yourself for me," an agitated Minerva would say towards Ava. It was hard to miss how snubbed Minerva had gotten during the debriefing, and even when pressed for details, Lorenzo had been off-hand about it. Watching Minerva stomp out of the room, the gears began turning inside Serah's head.

Minerva had a grudge against Lorenzo to settle. Serah wasn't going to be defeating him alone.

'Well... maybe I should leave her alone for a bit first. There's someone else missing...' Serah would think to herself, looking at the spot Zel-Ghin had once stood. The boy left early into the debriefing, wholly uninterested. He'd missed both Bug's invitation to party and Lorenzo's announcement on being able to swap out framewerk parts. A party wouldn't be complete without everyone present, so...

"You want me to go get Zel-Ghin?" she'd casually say to Griff, Ava and Bug as she walked up to the trio. "I think he left before you could invite him. Oh, also, good luck Bug!" she'd say to the guy with a wink, but omitting why she said so. Before he had a chance to stop her, Serah had already- quite literally- ran out of the room, dashing past Elora who seemed to be waiting inside the halls for someone.

As Serah jogged the halls in the ship, she'd think of where she'd be able to find Zel-Ghin. She didn't know the guy all that well. Only three traits stood out to her: One, he was obsessed with candy. Two, he was a massive jerk. Finally, because he's a massive jerk, he barely looked at her when they'd been talking. Instead, his attention was drawn to the little gaming device he'd carried around. Zel-Ghin liked games, in other words. So she'd find him at...

'Ah-ha! Found you!' Serah celebrated as she'd spotted him turning a corner, towards the leisure lounge. Only one place on the ship where people got together to play games.

"Hey, you! Wait! ...I said wait!" she'd yell out at him, before sliding across the floor and spreading her arms wide in front of him to block his path. "Sheesh... finally caught up..." Serah complained, taking a moment to catch her breath from all the running she did. She fixed her posture and looked up at him- god he was tall- her hand scratching the back of her neck. "You really should have stuck around for the debriefing... well, whatever. Bug and Arrish are going to throw a party tonight at the dining hall. You'll show up, right?" she'd ask, judgingly glaring at him.

Zel-Ghin

Zel-Ghin had been on his way to the gaming room, he wanted to clear another level, beat a few bosses and- Footsteps was heard behind him. His eyes darted quickly to the side, his hand instinctively reaching down to his belt area. He had no knife on him. The pattern had been interupted. That's right. He was at a ship in space now. He didn't have that weapon on him. His training sessions against those… machines in the old lab had left their mark. To always watch the back. He sighed slightly, closing his eyes momentarily, before turning half-way around, his hands sliding into his jacket-pockets. It was the short and petite young woman. The pilot of the Atty. Serah. She was running and yelling at him to hold up. What was this about?

'The other kittycat? What now?' Zel-Ghin thought to himself, then listened to what Serah had to say. He had missed the notice that there were going to be a party tonight, arranged by Bug and Arrish. Zel-Ghin's mind wandered to try find faces of the two mentioned.

'The junkyard scrapper and the guy who tried to command my brother...' The younger twin made a mental note, then looked over Serah, his eyes wandered over her face, his gaze landing on her lips, then his eyes glanced downwards, then slowly back up again. Short. She really was a short one. Her overall appearance was speaking to Zel-Ghin's particular taste. She probably would need a stool to stand on if he were to kiss her later though. But that was something for later.

"Haah? You ran all the way here for that?" He tilted his head slightly to the side, trying to come to grip as to what reasoning had led her to do that. He had not exactly been showing his best side to anyone as of late. The bitter defeat of the Squid. It still irked him to the point he wanted to stab something.

"Why would you bother running all over here to tell me this? Doubt anyone of those other guys want me there anyhow, bet not even you want me to show up do you? Unless you are asking me out on... what was that thing called again? Date? Hah… give me a break. No one really cares about me, don't pretend you do, no one ever has. My brother of course will be there, but where else would the spoon be if not in the soup? He does love to talk for someone so detached from all forms of pleasure. Hmm…" Zel-Ghin's purple gaze wandered over Serah again, trying to lock gaze with her.

"You seem overly eager to jump into the fray. We aren't so different are we? I like that in a woman. I give you a lolipop for a kiss, but I doubt you are bold enough to make that trade… heh. Since you did run all this way to invite me... Tsk tsk. Fate is such a drag at times. I guess I'll see you at the party, Neko-chan." He shook his head softly and lifted his hand up, his palm facing up towards the ceiling as he assumed a carefree stance.

Aurora didn’t linger long after the short, but intense confrontation between the Professor and Argo’s Pilot. It was clearly very personal, and at least slightly classified.

It wasn’t her business, though it was interesting.

Regardless, Aurora made her towards the Medical wing. It might have only been a simulated mission, and her injuries largely psychosomatic, but neither was good reason to disrupt her normal post mission routine.

Make a report entry about the mission, check in with medical, and then check up on Sleepy. It was a firm habit and routine for her and had been for years. It helped with keeping thing straight, and part of her worried that the VR might confuse her later. So, she was even more interested in sticking to her self-imposed routine.

She filled out the report on her mission on her Pad. Linking in the debriefing and her personal notes along the way. It was clinical and as factual as she could make it. Her thoughts and feeling only added in the Post script.

Then she spent some time tossing ideas around. She had the resources, and time, to actually update Sleepy after all. Something she hadn’t had much of in the years prior. Fixing them up had always came first. Then it was the bureaucratic restraints, lack of materials, lack of support, lack of time.

But that was all behind her now. And part of her was very interested in getting to further evolve Sleepy.

Her stay in Medical was short. A fifteen check-up at best, and touching base with her doctor on board the Solaris. Starting working on connections early was always better in the long run, and if there was one person Aurra knew she would see often abord this ship it was going to be Dr. Sweet.

The large, bald, dark-skinned man was a jovial about things, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t attentive and on top of his work. He had already gotten Aurora’s prescription ready for her as well. Letting her mark that off of her to-do list earlier than expected.

After saying good bye to her medical point of contact. She turned towards the Hanger Bay.
On her pad she set an alarm for herself for an hour from now. She could easily spend the rest of the day poking around in Sleepy’s systems. Now that the Simulation was over and she had spent some time thinking about it, she had a feeling that the classified system the XJ9 Project had installed into Sleepy might have something to do with what Lorenzo had been tracking during the Sim.

But she had other things to attend to today. Language lessons with Rhylean and then steak dinner. So she would contend herself with a diagnostic, and a surface examination of where all was touched by the XJ9’s addition.

“Soon.” She promised herself. “I’ll set a day aside for us soon.”

Serah's head spun from hearing Zel-Ghin drone on and on, not giving her a chance to speak. Well, he did give a brief pause for her to interject, staring intently into her eyes. She didn't look away- albeit more out of defiance than for any other reason as she looked him in the eye.

"Well... I don't know, have you tried being less of a jerk?" she'd tell him bluntly, crossing her arms with a frown. "You're part of the team now. It wouldn't be a party without everyone there, you included. If you tried being nicer to people, I'm sure they'd like you a lot better."

It was then that Zel-Ghin commented on her being eager to jump into the fray, and that he'd trade her a lollipop for a kiss. She visibly shuddered at the thought. "I- no?? No thank you, not in a million years!" she snapped back, taking a step back to get away from him. He took the opportunity to walk past her, saying he'll be at the party. At least she accomplished what she set out to do. Before Zel-Ghin fully walked out of sight, Serah put her hands around her mouth and shouted one last thing at him:

"The professor said we could change parts of our frames out! If you really think Squid was the problem, then just try it and see what happens!"

...There. Serah had done everything she'd set out to do. She spun on her heel and walked back in the direction she came from, away from Zel-Ghin. She suddenly remembered the lollipop he gave her and pulled it out, inspecting it as she walked. "For a kiss...? You're throwing them at everyone on the ship..." she muttered to herself. She didn't want it to go to waste so she fumbled with the wrapper for a bit, then a small piece unceremoniously crashed to the ground from having split in two after the head bonking incident. Serah begrudgingly picked it up to not litter, partially because she was raised as a good little girl and another part of her didn't want to find out what kind of horrific punishment littering was met with on this ship. Then she licked it, because Serah ain't afraid of no floor.

It was apple flavor.

Yuck.

She promptly tossed both halves in the nearest bin she could find.

Bug stood still for a second, watching his work go. He was momentarily distracted by Ava's beckoning, but he seemed to catch enough of Griff's idiotic banter that still warranted a response.

"Yes Griff. Everyone. Steak and Booze." He said, calmly, as if talking to mantoddler who had less than average IQ. "Cool. Uhuh. Not related to Atty." He then caught Serah winking him and wishing him luck. His eyes darted to Elora, for a brief second. Oh, is that...hm? He thought, as he then caught sight of Ava again.

One girl winks at me and two want to talk to me, not bad of a haul. And Minerva's grumpy and leaving, so far so good. He thought to himself. I still have to prioritize Ava though. Bug gestured with "just a little while" to Elora, before resuming to join Ava in whatever they were discussing.

@Ammokkx@Dezuel@Randomguy

---

Ava approached Lorenzo with some trepidation once the rest of the team dispersed.

From her initial impression of Professor Lorenzo, he seemed to be someone who would be hard-pressed to change his mind.

She was prepared to argue her case, but ultimately, Ava was not sure how successful she would be.

And if she failed to convince the Professor, that meant that she would be the squad leader of the project for the foreseeable future.

That was not…a pleasant thought. Granted, based on formal credentials alone, Ava could see the reasoning. She was, after all, one of the few–perhaps the only–commissioned officer among the squad members, albeit the lowest rank of 2nd Lieutenant.

However, the fact that she was still only 2nd Lieutenant as a veteran pilot with stellar combat records was also a clear indication that she was not someone generally considered for actual leadership positions.

Of course, as a commissioned officer, on paper she had some degree of authority, but that was more formality than anything, as she was typically placed under a squad of commissioned officers who were all veteran ace pilots. And on such a squad, Ava would probably only take command if about five of the pilots above her in the chain of command died.

Certainly, Ava was capable of coming up with some strategies, mostly the by-the-book conventional strategies that would be familiar to veteran pilots, but that was an entirely different ballpark from being responsible for an entire squad.

“…Permission to speak freely, sir?” Ava finally asked Lorenzo.

The old man smiled as his eye moved over to her. “Permission granted, Corporal Lane,” he answered, and leaned his hand on his walking cane.

“I would like to ask about your decision to appoint me as the squad leader. I am sure that when recruiting me to the program, you have received a dossier of myself, where undoubtedly it was written that ‘Lieutenant Lane is lacking in the initiative necessary for leadership’ or something along those lines, which I know for sure has been a mainstay in my files since enlistment. While yes, admittedly I led Team Mango and we ultimately won the bout, the strategies I employed were basic textbook strategies. Furthermore, it was merely a simulation, in which no matter how realistic it was, there is a vast gap between decisively making a decision in a simulation with the knowledge that ultimately there would be no real consequences for giving bad orders and giving an order in an actual battle where a bad one may end up with real consequences. There is also a matter of my psychological issues that I am sure you were made aware of. So keeping those things in mind…why me? Is there really no one else more suitable in your eyes?”

Lorenzo shook his head slowly, like an understanding father. “Lane, Lane, Lane…I understand your worries. I really do. You were just given a promotion, and you’re unsure if you got what it takes. But believe you me, missy, when I say there is no better example of a pilot to lead this unit to guts and glory.”

He went through more footage, specifically moments of interaction between Mango members. “It’s not simply about tactics. A leader’s gotta be able to connect with the people under them, to give them hope and determination. You have a good head on your shoulders, even if you yourself don’t believe it. You recognize when people are In a bad spot, and guide them to a better place.”

He nodded to himself. “You also have good instincts for how to utilize your fellow pilots’ strengths to the fullest. And even if your tactics are textbook, they are a fine foundation from which Corporal Bugatti can assist with more clever moves. Speaking of, you two should meet up and get to know each other better. An hour of tactics discussion and/or training for the coming week. How does that sound, Corporal Lane?”

…Ava could see that there was no convincing the Professor, just as she feared.

She really did not want to do it.

Previously, because of her stellar combat records, there were times when she was considered to be in command of an operation. Especially after she made it to the rank of a commissioned officer, a rank that she suspected was only given as a formality as an ‘incentive’ to keep her in the Federation’s military—not that they needed to do that, as Ava had no intention of quitting, but she supposed the higher-ups decided not to take chances with the rare individuals designated as [Humanity’s Potential].

In any case, each time she was considered to take command, Ava had always recited the same reasoning she was now reciting to the Professor. It was, after all, an undeniable truth that such a line of ‘poor choice for command’ was a constant in her files. Even her previous commanding officer, Colonel Chapman, who had a very favourable disposition toward her, was of the same mind.

Thus, the only logical conclusion was not to place Ava Lane in the position of command.

Of course, Professor Lorenzo was probably exactly the sort of man who would scoff and reject such conventional logic. That was Ava’s impression of him, and it seemed that she was correct.

There was no escaping this, Ava then realised, feeling a heavy weight settling on her stomach. The Professor had come up with a proverbial ‘hypothesis’ that Ava Lane was the correct leader of Framewerk Project XJ9, and he would only accept the null hypothesis with evidence from an ‘actual test’.

Ava sighed, “In that case…I would like to know more about this project, Framewerk Project XJ9, of which I would lead the squad operatives. I think it is reasonable, no? Given that I would be hard-pressed to lead the squad well without some measure of a more holistic overview of its objective. I’ve already noticed some oddities in the project. First, this project is clearly separate from the Federation’s chain of command, which is unorthodox for a military project to say the least. Second, the members themselves are an eclectic group, but even more than that, the presence of several individuals that have been designated as Humanity’s Potential in one place is also unusual. Aside from myself, I noticed Cadet Sterling and Cadet Liu’un. Third, the fact that you, Professor, are the one in charge of this project. The ‘Father of Modern Framewerk’ would not just head up any random project. Fourth, the fact that despite your apparent distaste for Project Olympus, which Lieutenant Kaname mentioned Minerva originated from, you nevertheless accepted her presence in this project, implying you are willing to compromise for the project’s success. All that to say that this project seems to be something of the utmost importance. What exactly are we doing here?”

The steps of a male, still hobbling pilot could be heard as Bugatti walked towards the two sighing. “Apologies. I got…distracted with fellow pilot’s impressions.” He said. “And it might not be the end of it, but it would be exceedingly impolite to drag it along any longer” Bug would say. “May I speak freely too.”

Lorenzo’s smile widened upon seeing Bug arrive. “Ah, perfect timing, Corporal Bugatti. I just mentioned how you and Corporal Lane should hold a joint session for tactics discussion, or maybe even putting them into practice in training.” He nodded to Bug’s request. “Yes, but hold just a moment, laddie. Corporal Lane just asked a very interesting question. Now, this is classified intelligence of the highest clearance, so I can’t give a full explanation. But you are correct about one thing, lassie: this project is of the utmost importance. Not only for the war, but for the Galactic Federation.” He turned silent for a moment in contemplation, before he continued: “I am impressed you know about that designation, Corporal. Only top brass, or those who have been in action long enough would know about it. I can’t say much, but I can say this: we are on the cusp of a galaxy-changing historical moment. The moment we will realize the true potential for the Framewerk Synchronization System.” He then turned silent, and placed both hands on his walking cane. “That is all I will say on the matter. Now then, Corporal Bugatti, you have permission to speak.”

“So…what’s this about, then? My lovely senior getting cold feet or the fact you are using espers to rewrite the laws of reality to suit the Federation?” Bug would then say. “Because if so, I got a few things to say.”

“It is a mix of both. Though I’ve decided to trust in the Professor’s judgment—“

More that she resigned herself, but that was splitting hairs at this point.

“—For the time being, at least. It’s good that you can join us, Astolfo,” Ava gave Astolfo a nod of acknowledgement at his arrival before turning back to the Professor, “Regarding my knowledge of Humanity’s Potential, I became aware of the designation due to the unique circumstances of my enlistment.”

Since her father opposed her enlistment, that designation was what made the Federation willing to possibly antagonise one of the largest Framewerk manufacturers, after all. She was present during the negotiation between the Federation’s representative and her father, where the topic of Humanity’s Potential came up.

“…But I digress,” she continued, her tone measured, “With all due respect, Professor, I am not asking for a full disclosure, but could we perhaps be informed of the general scope of the activity we will be undertaking? For instance, will our operation consist of combats against Cruxi, or testing experimental technologies in the field, or data gathering, or something else?”

Turning to Astolfo, she added, “It is imperative for the two of us to know of at least this much if we are to come up with proper strategies and training regimen, don’t you agree? We cannot do our job properly if we are not made aware of what is expected of the squad we are leading.”

Given Astolfo’s gift for speeches, Ava hoped that he would pick up on her cues and try to convince the Professor to give more information on the project.

“We can’t do our job properly. Period.” Astolfo would then say, a frown appearing in his mind. Ava was such a beauty and he would love to keep cajoling her, wishing one day he would be skilled enough to entice such a rare and wonderful animal to nuzzle against him. However, in front of the professor…sacrifices had to be made.

“You have a spiritual wound. I am a mass murderer who killed 300 people in a civil war. And the professor is a man who will strike a sun if it insulted him.” Bug would then say bluntly. “ And we are the best hope against everything. I know better than to fight a tide of someone so driven. He will tell us when it suits us. And if we come to know so much to interfere or question the morality of it all, he will destroy us.”
He breathed deep. “I hope whatever sins of nature we might be committing will be worth it in the end.” The corporal said. “And this is why you should not shirk away your post, senior. It’s because literally no one else is better suited.”

His gaze looked at Lorenzo. “Well except for someone with great potential that my brother is hoarding as his pet Ace. He is…running a parallel program too, professor. Word has it that he recruited all three of us, children of the Golden Jackal, to pilot.”

Lorenzo stroked his beard at the news, his expression neutral. “I see. Orlando is quite a lad, I must admit. But of course, you're not going to let yourself fall behind, are you Bugatti? We’ll make a Golden Lion out of you, haha!” He guffawed, and then turned his attention to Ava. “The both of you. Whatever secret technologies your Frames may hold, what data they may gather…That is irrelevant for you to know. All you need to focus on is fighting the Cruxi. And based on my data, I know you two will succeed. You just have to believe in yourself.” He lifted his cane, and pointed it at her with an unsteady tremble. “In fact, that is an order. Believe that you can be a leader. Trust in others, and they will trust in you. Understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Ava replied. Turning to Astolfo, she added, “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“It’s nothing. You are after all the most elegant and beautiful pilot of our entire lot, I would say, that can project a dignified aura and be the banner which we rally on.” Bug would cheekily smile before continuing. “It is my opinion that both heroes and demons are needed for this war. You can be our heroine. And I will be a demon. I am, after all, the Lunatic Prince of Yatalia. And besides, I do think there is a good rapport between me and the professor’s way.”

“I…appreciate it. Thank you again,” Ava said with a polite smile.

Though still not completely reassured, both Astolfo's and the Professor’s words had somewhat eased her mind for now.

She, of course, did not miss the light flirting attempt Astolfo made. However...she decided to pretend not to notice.

It was far easier. Far less…messy for Ava to pretend she did not notice such things than to deal with the complicated feelings such interactions would surely bring given her circumstances.

That was how she had dealt with suitors so far for eight years ever since his disappearance.

However, that aside…the Professor might intend to keep tight-lipped until the end, but he seemed to have let something slip. A small, perhaps inconsequential slip, but a slip nonetheless.

`Whatever secret technologies your Frames may hold’…

That was, in essence, an admission that there was some sort of secret within the Framewerk. There had been rumours about how the Framewerks designed by Professor Lorenzo were special. Something…more than machine.

The Professor’s previous statement lent much more credence to the rumour.

Given that he also mentioned how the project aimed to realise the true potential of the Framewerk Synchronisation System…it was likely that the general aim for the project was to further develop whatever secret technology was used in Framewerks to achieve the synchronisations with its pilots. Possibly creating next-generation Framewerks that synchronised even further with the pilots, perhaps?

Well…that was mere speculation for now, Ava supposed. Considering the Professor does not seem to be willing to divulge any further, she probably should cut her losses here, so to speak.

“One last thing, Professor. Regarding Minerva and Project Olympus…I won’t pry on your distaste of them. However, I would appreciate it if you could try not to antagonise her unnecessarily. Given her skills, she would be a vital member of the squad, and so, it is less than ideal if there’s tension between an ace pilot such as herself and the Executive Officer.”

Lorenzo lowered his cane and turned away, making one last check of the papers he had tucked away. However, it seemed he did hear Ava’s last request, as he briefly stopped, facing away from the two. He gripped his cane tight, causing the veins on his wrinkly hand to become more pronounced.

“...Liisa, what's next on my schedule?” He abruptly asked as he hobbled away without giving so much as a reply, the diligent Lilim beside him and listing off activities as the two disappeared into the corridor.

“I guess he must have appreciated the original so much it gives him mixed feelings. I was pondering how the pieces were clicking, now I know how. Someone tried to make a god using a heroine stock. It’s a tall tale, but it seems to make sense.” Bug would reply. “Minerva is a child trapped in an adult’s body with a very skewed sense of priorities. It does not seem to be an accident.” The second in command replied thoughtfully.

“If they were to clone your beloved as a pet project, how would that make you feel, senior?” Bug would reply.

Cloning…? So that was what the Olympus Project was.

If so, then that was certainly a reflection of how dire the situation was in the war against the Cruxi. Even in the current age, cloning had remained a subject of moral debate and remained a controversial topic.

How would she feel if Luke was cloned…

“I—“ she started to answer, before stopping, “…Hold a moment. I was not aware that you know of my background. You know about the true nature of the Olympus Project too… Are they things you discover through your connection as the Prince of the Yatalia Empire?”

“I did not know it. I just inferred it. Body language. Responses. Crumbs of information. You just confirmed it. I do not have solid evidence on it however… but some pieces are fitting. The awkwardness. The legacy. The early ageing in the hair of Minerva. Her obsession. The names Olympus, Minerva…and Athena. Seems much of a coincidence doesn’t it?”

The younger pilot let a wry smile. “Same with you. You put walls and lack drive. You were stripped of the one who spurred you to take decisions.” The prince would pause for a bit. “But every barrier has gaps to a discerning eye.”

“Ah, well…I confirmed your suspicion, did I? I suppose that’s fine. It’s not like it is some sort of secret, I just don’t…broadcast it,” Ava replied with some exasperation before continuing, “As for your question…I don’t know. From what I’ve heard from pilots who served with him, he was an excellent pilot, so seen in that way, cloning him is good in an ‘objective’ utilitarian way, so to speak. That said, on a personal level…of course it does not sit right with me. Even if he would have the same memory as the original…could he be said to be the same individual? Are what makes a person a person merely the physical aspects of their body, such as the memories stored in their brain? Even if one rejects all concepts of the metaphysical consciousness of the soul, I feel like it would be hard for loved ones to simply accept that a cloned individual is the same person as the departed. Of course, assuming that your inference of Project Olympus and the relation of ‘Minerva’s original’ with the professor is correct…these are also probably the sort of epistemological and ontological issues they would grapple with. Certainly a complex issue.”

She sighed, “Definitely something that can be easily resolved. In the case it is true, I suppose the best we can do is hope that it won’t become an issue in the future that would impact the efficacy of our squad.”

“Not that complex of an issue, senior.” Bug would add. “Are twins the same being? People that clone other people never look upon that. Even if they are close, genetically identical, and synchronize to the point of seeming telepathic they still have differences.” Bug would add. “A clone will diverge even further. Same genetic makeup. Different upbringing. Butterfly effects. So they hamfist it with conditioning. Training. Syringes, playing god. Humans are really getting desperate it seems.”

He looked at Ava. “Just treat her as a hyper perfectionist pouty child trapped in an overachieving body. Like a younger tomboyish sister of sorts.” Bug would then say. “Happiness Sunshine is Happiness Sunshine.”

“In the end…what does it matter where we came from when it comes to face oblivion?” The younger pilot replied. “Sorry for your loss by the way.”

“It was years ago, but I appreciate it,” Ava replied solemnly, seemingly not wanting to continue talking about the subject, as she pivoted to the previous topic.

“In any case, while I agree, objectively speaking, it’s ‘easy’ to simply declare ‘I am who I am and no one else’ in theory, in practice, people deal in subjectivities regarding these things. The human brain is not always rational after all—“

Her own psychological issue, for instance, persisted despite Ava having recognised that such trains of thought were illogical.

“—you see how the Professor reacted earlier. One of the supposed brightest minds humanity has, reduced to petty sentiments that unnecessarily antagonises one of the pilots in the supposed ‘utmost important project for the Federation’. But well…no use talking about this extensively now; we have yet to have solid proof of this cloning hypothesis, after all. And even if it is right, we don’t fully understand Professor Lorenzo’s umbrage with it.”

“I don’t like her either. She thinks the world is all about her success or failure.” Bug would admit. “Sees everyone as just a fool in her path at times. Reminds me of someone I once knew.” He paused. “I believe we should work kinks with more socializing. We need to practice your smile. Must be lovely.”

“I won’t tell you to get along with her…But do try to be professional and not unnecessarily antagonise her.” Ava started saying. She had seen her fair share of pilots disliking each other on a personal level, after all.

In her experience, as long as it does not get to the point of hampering coordination and cooperation on the field, it was best to leave personal conflicts between pilots alone. After all, with how most pilots tend to have strong personalities, an attempt to force them to get along might just backfire.

She then continued, “…That remark about smiling aside…I suppose it is right that now I am appointed squad leader, I should socialise more with the rest of the team. If we want to foster esprit de corps, it would not do for the squad leaders not to be an example of one.”

“Dinner and wine then, twice a month?” Bug would say, a cheeky grin on his face. “...for brainstorming purposes.” The prince would say. “I’ll see to find…suitable classy accomodation.”

“…No wine. That would be counterproductive for brainstorming,” Ava replied curtly, before continuing, “But yes, I suppose we do need to schedule meetings. If that’s all, then if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to rest after that simulation exercise.”

She still had some aches due to the feedback from her framewerk being destroyed. The ‘curse’ of high synchronisation. Though that did make her wonder, what pain feedback would be like if her theory of the Professor developing new generation framewerk with higher synchronisation capability was true. Would the pilot die without a chance of evacuation if their framewerk suffered too much damage?

“Have good day, Corporal Bugatti,” Ava said with a polite smile, before leaving.

“It’s a date, then. See you around, senior.” Bug would quip, before nodding and leaving his way too.

---

Bug stood still for a moment as Elora approached, before initiating a conversation. That was odd. Elora was not one to initiate conversation easily. Something was driving her. He put his hand to his chin, trying to read Elora’s words and expressions. Well, well, well. Lucky Rabbit is trying to get her friend cheered up, and is holding the words I spoke at the start against me? She is such a moodmaker, is she not. Maybe I should throw a nice bonus. Plus this serves a goal I had in mind. He listened as Elora did her best Serah impression.

“My, my. Your friend Gene is a quirky one, is she not? But that much is true. I did promise her a reward.” Astolfo said, placing himself next to Elora. “I did not mean to make fun of her, though. So let me treat you extra well as a proxy apology for my misunderstood actions, isn’t it, Lily of the Valley?” Astolfo added, putting his most charming and princely smile before doing a half bow, corteously.

“Well then, shall we proceed? Think of me as your Fairy God…prince as you will. What would you like to do, then?”

Elora blinked, and then a red blush crept up over her face upon hearing the flirty man speak.
“M-Misunderstood actions? What do you mean?” She asked, a closed hand over her chest as if unsure whether to be wary or not.

“Well, I did say her efforts to try to cajole the one called Lucius would not go unrewarded. I did say I would treat her to sweets, befitting her vitality. However it seems…well, she did not take it as sincere but mockery. Nevertheless even if we ultimately failed…” Bug would trail and look at Elora for a brief moment.”...thanks to someone else’s…credit must be given where is due.” Astolfo would then say. “Besides, I would have eventually approached you regardless.”

Elora's expression shifted from bewildered to curious as Bug's cryptic words shed little light to her query. “Oh, okay…Umm…” She crossed an arm, holding the other one. The timid girl understood why he would elicit that sort of reaction from Serah. Still, there was something off about what he said.
“Approach me? Are you…trying to hit on me too? Like you hit on Arrish,” she blurted out, before following up in a panic: “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I mean, he is quite handsome, even if he seems like a heartbreaker.”

Bug stopped for a second. He offered a rather devilish smirk as he leant closer to whisper in Elora’s ear. “Whoops, you are really a sagacious one. Busted in one moment.” He began to drag his words more and more as he moved ever so closely to her. “He is a bit of a despondent one, and what better way to sate my appetite with the girl that everyone wanted to save during the simulator…” He added in a husky voice. “...I must admit I want you, Elora.”

He finished, before recoiling so slightly, and lightly tapping her on the forehead. “...as a data analyst if you must know. I do need to think of out of the box tactics for the team, do I not?” Bug jested, pulling back and smirking.

Elora blinked, and raised her palms in alarm, frightened by Bug’s advances until he sprung the twist, causing her to reel back. “Data analyst? Like the intelligence I work with using the Combat Analyzer?”

Bug looked at Elora, his hand now on his hip. “Know thyself. Those were the words engraved in the ancient oracle of Delphi, back in the earliest age of Humankind. Knowledge is one of our greatest tools, and its importance must not be understated. Your… Combat Analyzer is a manifesto of your inner intention to use knowledge as a weapon. We’ve barely scratched the surface, Lily of the Valley.” Bug would add as he looked.

“How many people on the team think that they get it, hm?” He posted a question. “I would say not that many. So I must treat you well, because I need such like minded people. We…can chat about the implications leisurely.”

“So once again, what does the Lily of the Valley desire? Food and drink to quench thirst? A peek into the unknown? Mirror mirror on the wall…” He playfully trailed on his words.

Elora thought about Bug’s question with her arms crossed and eyes cast downward. “Well, I could have something sweet, like fruit juice. I’m parched after the VR session. Still, I’m, uh, surprised, mister Bugatti. I didn’t know you were so talented in engineering. I guess it explains the interest in tactical data. Do you plan to make improvements to Cockroach using it?”

Bug put his hand on his chest, and performed a slight nod with the head. “Your wish is my command.” He said as he began to walk away. “Please follow me.” Elora could notice this was not the way of the exchange shop, where staff could buy their stuff with their meager savings. He was heading to somewhere else, in the mess of the maze and maintenance corridors inside the ship.

“Ah...well, I’m not that talented. Not like someone from Toivo. I don’t speak and dream of machines like for example Sparks or Aurora. I merely found out that machines are way more reliable than humans.” The prince would say. “It also helps to defuse bombs attached to your stuff, and all that jazz. Naughty people’s hobbies, you know.” He said jokingly, although his joke was way darker. “Roach? I’ll upgrade…eventually. It’s gonna get the short stick this round I’m afraid. I’m not going to double down on my little wee baby like Sparks or Aurora do. What I think I will do…” He said as he finally reached a less cramped space.

“...is upgrade the Logic Diver.”

Elora frowned as Bug, in the guise of a gaff, gave a glimpse to his gloomy past.
“I…I can kind of relate. I’ve been alone for most of my life, so things like books and software kept me company. Logic Diver was my only friend.”
Occupied by reminiscing, Elora did not notice how they headed in a different direction, until they reached their destination. She was flabbergasted at the revelation. “Diver? B-But, are you serious, mister Bugatti? What would you even work on?” However, despite her trepidation, her eyes showed underlying excitement at the prospect.

“A chain is only strong as its weakest link. And given the sim results…well. Do I need to elaborate?” Bug would say. “Sparks and I had probably the same idea about the Hyper Communications relay being potentially a hacking tool on steroids. Alternatively using the Combat Analyzer to copy whatever IFF signal the enemy has. There are possibilities.” Bug added, as he went into a dark corridor. “I expect…a repayment of course.” He continued as the dark corridor opened to an unused storage area rife with off duty… soldiers of all parts of the ship. Some were playing cards, some were smoking. Some…were performing even odder fare, like using improvised devices to toast sausages on a bun. There was someone even making cotton candy with a discarded gyroservo.

“Well, what do you think? This is the Pit market. You can’t get this stuff on official channels. Officers don’t officially know, but they know.” Bug would tell Elora. “Let’s get you a mocktail.”

Elora shivered as she realized where the two of them ended up far into the engineering section of Solaire. Various engineers and technicians stared as the two of them passed by, causing her to feel uncomfortable. One of them even whistled.
“Check it out, we got dem fancy kids in here,” one of the more rough-looking workers spoke out.
As Bug went to meet with his supply contact, the guy approached her with an unwholesome grin. “Now what’s a cutie like youse doin’ round these parts? Maybe I could show you round, har har!”

“Oh, uh, you see, I…”
Elora scowled, yet fear kept her still as she tried to think of a way to decline without upsetting the stranger.

Astolfo rolled his eyes. Was this some kind of deja-vu or something? He sighed and retraced his steps back, before looking at the rough looking fellow. “Don’t you have anything better to do, fellow? She is with me.” He sighed, his finger tapping at the discipline tool at the hip. “So let us take this, calm, easy, everyone minding their own business.” Astolfo looking at rough hewn crew members.

“Lest I break something more than a sim this time. Let us not be hasty.” Astolfo said, his glare patent at the man, indicating Elora to move towards him.

Elora nodded, and walked behind Bug with quickened steps.
The engineer grimaced as he realized Bug caught him, and his eyes glanced down at his holster.
“Hey now, I ain’t looking for no trouble,” the man spoke out. “Y’all have a nice day now,” he spoke, and then walked off.

Elora sighed in relief with a shake of her head. “Geez…You saved me there, mister Bugatti. I’m not used to dealing with people like you are.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I miscalculated the thirst for women these people have. So bear with me for a while.” Astolfo said, decisively crossing his arm behind Elora’s waist. “They will have to think you are my girl so let us play the part.” Bug added as he tried to lead Elora to a certain makeshift booth. However…he too soon realized he had never gotten this close to a girl in a while. Most of the time they were thorny roses who would bear their knives at him after failing to seduce him. Elora was completely different. And he could swear he could smell her shampoo as he did the maneuver inside the black market.

Damnit, Bug, keep it straight.

“Bweh!?” Elora yelped as her waist was grabbed. She raised a fist up at first, but quickly placed it on his arm as she remembered needing to play the part: she did not want to get harassed again, and the plan, as outrageous as it was, soon proved effective, letting the two pass through the black market. All the while, Elora was silent, her cheeks red.

When they finally arrived, she removed herself shakily, and placed a hand on her chest, taking deep breaths. “Geez…That was scary. But we made it through.”

“...uhuh.” Bug nodded to Elora. Maybe this was too much stimulation for the young girl? The rogue prince looked at the blonde, unshaven man presiding over a rather awkwardly assembled pile of junk, who was staring at the couple, as the clatter of glass and flasks was heard.

“...look at the lovebirds.” He said, a bitter and cynical tone of voice.

“Are you Fuel Line 2 Deputy Engineer, Von Hohenheim? The one they call the Alchemist?” Bug would then say. “We are in need of your…magic.” The young pilot would say.

“Twenty.” He rolled his eyes. “Per mix.”

“...you’re ripping us off.” Bug would raise his hand. “Ten is what I heard. And I’ll put a good word in the run mill.”

“Twenty. It includes the hush fee and serenading the poor Forever Alone idiot who got distracted with your out-of-place girlfriend.” The one called Alchemist said.

“...I’ll pay.” Bug would concede after looking at Elora. “Whip up a Screwdriver for me, and for the lady…a Cinderella.”

The Alchemist raised an eyebrow. “Cinderella. Really. Can’t you do that in your room, brat? Wasting everyone’s time and money like that. Order a Strawberry Daiquiri at the very least.”

It was then when to Elora, all the assembled junk and bottles made sense. They were makeshift instruments of cocktail mixing, as well as a rather profound selection of spirits and juices, more so than one could find in the official stores. Alchemist…the one who mixes.

Elora was surprised that there was an actual black market bar at the back of the Pit, and coughed a bit from the cigarette smoke that wafted in the air. She wondered if the ship officers were unaware of the prohibited goods being manufactured and sold…Or if they actually turned a blind eye. It would make sense for a ship as huge as Solaire to have a “don’t ask don’t tell” policy about things like this, she thought.

The young pilot felt bad about causing trouble for Bug after the barkeep complained: she deduced that the Cinderella was a non-alcoholic drink. “Th-thank you,” she spoke in gratitude, and then placed a hand in her pocket to take out her wallet. “Could I also have a bottle of Strawberry Daiquiri to go?” she spoke, and handed out the yerries. “I think Serah might like it,” she whispered to Bug.

Bug would raise an eyebrow, and intercepted Elora’s hand. “I am the one paying. Otherwise it would not count towards the bargain. But you heard the lady.”

“Bah, easiest money I had in a while.” The Alchemist relented, and the magic began to happen. The skilled chemist grabbed alcohol, ice and juices from suspicious containers, and with deft and swift movements, conjured the cocktails out of seemingly thin air. Bug raised an eyebrow when the Alchemist seemingly produced a glass slipper out of all things to pour Elora’s mocktail inside, topped with a little cabbage shaped umbrella.

“What’s with that?” Bug said as he looked at Elora’s exotic glass.

“Some idiot thought he could get Lieutenant Mammaries down with us grunts, so he created the glassware.” The Alchemist replied. “Meh, at least I get to use it.”

“Heh, the follies of men.” Bug would say and take a sip. “Surprisingly good. Worth the detour and the money.”

“That’s a New Uruker for you. We might live in a dump, but we get creative, Mr Fancyass prince.” The sour cocktail bartender nodded before producing a plastic cup, hopefully washed, to prepare the Daiquiri to go.

“Mother was from New Uruk.” Bug admitted, which got Hohenheim to raise an eyebrow.

“Shit. Yeah I do remember now. Zenobia the Golden Jackal. Rags to riches story if I ever heard.” The Alchemist quipped. “Heard she went missin’.”

Bug stood silent for a while before enjoying the crude but delicious cocktail. He wondered if Elora found the mix good too.

Elora took a hesitant and delicate sip of her Cinderella…And then blinked in surprise. “This is…It’s slightly sour, but the sweet aftertaste is nice,” she admitted, and smiled, feeling a little bit like a cool, classy lady.

“Well, any other desires you have, Elora?” Bug asked. “If so, do tell.” Bug nodded as he handed quite a wad of yerries to the Alchemist. That could not have been just his allowance. “Alchemist, do you do gigs? I got a party and I need supplies and a good mixer.”

The Alchemist frowning. “I do. But not on that crowd. Not on that scale.” The engineer leaned forward. “But I heard about a Yatalian dispatch nearby. Those guys are just drunk posh assholes. Maybe you can use your princely swag and get them to yield their booze.”

“Mmm” Bug replied. “Worth a shot.”

Elora finished drinking her mix, and then placed it on the bar counter, followed by taking a quick look at her personal device and hitching her breath. “Oh! I’ve gotta go back to work on other stuff.” She took Bug’s hand, and shook it. “Thanks for treating me, mister Bugatti,” she said with a cute smile, and took the bottle. “I’ll tell Serah how much of a gentleman you’ve been. I’m sure she’ll, uh, forgive you.”

“Mmm. I still have to comment on your Logic Diver upgrades though. Alternatively, think of my offer of teaching you to be a data analyst.” Bug would say, as he finished his drink in one go. “Great stuff, Alchemist.” He said, to which the Alchemist grunted. “Let me escort you back.”

He gestured, making a motion for the same waist hold as he had done earlier.

Elora nodded, looking at the bottle in her hands contemplatively. “Yeah…If you think I can do it, then I’ll do my best, mister Bugatti. And I’m sure Diver will also like being worked on,” she added with a cutesy tilt of her head. She then stepped next to him, allowing him to hold her the same way again for their return trip: Bug would note that while she was still unused to the closeness, she was less apprehensive of it compared to the first time. When they were back to the upper section of the ship, she curtsied with the bottle in hand. “This was, um, more fun than I thought. So, uh, see you later.” And with that she headed off to find Serah.

Not wasting time, Bug advanced one final time, a mischievous look on his eyes. “Don’t drop the bottle.” He said, before taking her hand and kissing her in the back of her palm. “See you around, Lily of the Valley.”

Mema-Ka

After having excused himself from the briefing room, Mema-Ka had walked calmly down the various corridors of the ship, finally stopping in front of a large window overlooking empty space, he reached for his personal device and quickly arranged a message for Executive Director Lorenzo in regards to alterations to the Raptor. This was a neatly wrapped gift to the older twin.

"Executive Director, I wish for the Raptor to have it's primary weapon, the [Marker Light] removed and replaced with [Artillery mortars]. Proceed with the following adjustments for the Squid as well, replace the [Dual Acid Cannons] with [Arklight Thunder]. That is all. Cadet Degadraz out." He sent the message away towards Lorenzo, and pocketed the device again.

Zel-Ghin's machine was not ideal for his brother, even with these adjustments, it would never be enough for him. He needed something that was completely different and fully dedicated to a role up close. All his long ranged weaponry were not very ideal for a frontliner. Mema-Ka's Raptor on the other hand were better suited, the only thing he felt it was lacking were a heavy primary weaponry which could be utilized in different ways. For someone like him, the artillery mortars seemed like the perfect choice. A weapon one could use as support and up close and could bring devastation to the battlefield… a massive ship… a colony… or a Cruxi hive.

Mema-Ka couldn't help but have a small upturn form at the corner of his lips. If the executive director would approve both alterations, then his brother would likely perform his role much better, but far from the perfection which Mema-Ka felt was needed. After all Zel-Ghin was a frontliner, someone who would be fighting and holding the line. Even if he wouldn't be able to destroy a single thing, his ability to hold back trouble would be highly valued if his dream were to be realized.

If we have the power, why shouldn't we? That was such a common human reasoning. How his own and Zel-Ghin's existence had come to be, how all life had come to be, a choice made for them, a choice never chosen. What was life? It was a collection of experiences, and depending on those experiences they would shape you. Zel-Ghin were a perfect example of someone whose been completely shaped by the hand and choices of others, he was not born to be the way he were. Unlike himself. Mema-Ka proceeded to head towards the room next to the gaming room which Zel-Ghin had found to his liking, this were the music room which held all manner of instruments. The room was quiet however. Perfect.

The taller twin's eyes set on the piano at the end of the room and approached it, pulling up the cover for all the keys, before pressing down on a few of them. He smiled softly, before sitting down on the small stool by it. He took slight breath, and then began to play an ominous but sad melody.

'All it takes is to find the key… the final key. The trigger of excision.'