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    1. Amidatelion 3 yrs ago
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The Supply

“Volunteer Marta Roche,” a voice, that of a boy no older than sixteen or seventeen, echoed over the comms. “Once you’re done with the Chinese PoWs, can you come to the BRP Ramon Alcaraz using one of Qingshe’s portals? We need you to heal some of our people next…”

Marta fiddled with her radio a bit, stretching out the antenna - an old habit formed with time spent in areas with unreliable access to radio. “Sister Marta, hearing you loud and clear. Ready to do my thing, soon as I get that portal.” She looks at the Hand of Mercy - still about four fingers and change of charge. Good - more than enough.

There was, thankfully, a stationary portal, thanks to Qingshe’s preparedness. This meant that Sister Marta was able to return to the home ship of the ASEAN Flotilla so she can finally heal the members of First Lieutenant Alonso’s team who had been wounded in action.

Of course, once she had returned to the ship, she’d find out that the team members were nowhere to be seen, only Noel himself, who said, “...Yeah, apparently, my team felt that the healing I gave them was enough. One of them is also receiving orders from Sweden to begin preparations to return to Europe while the other, well, I don’t know what he’s doing right now. Probably taking a break from fighting.”

He then paused and said, “We can talk, though. Do you need any information or exposition about the current situation?”

Marta, who had appeared as quickly as she could, gauntlet aglow, couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of anticlimax. “...Oh. That’s uh, it, then?” She stopped for a moment to look at Noel and scratch her head - Coifs get itchy once in a while. “I guess it’s fine if everyone’s fine. They really hotfooted it out of here, though. Shame, I would have liked to meet them.”

She offers her unarmored left hand. “Pleased to meet you anyway. I’m Sister Marta, but you can just call me Marta! I assume the mission’s gone smoothly?”

Noel shook her hand and said, “It has. We managed to resupply the Qing Restoration Society Rebellion that is holding Mischief Reef as our ally. But we inflicted less damage than we would have liked; the Chinese used some sort of Noble Arm to make one of their corvettes act on their own and control every part of itself as though it was a living body. So the corvette we boarded and got injured in is still functional, and the enemy Navy has suffered minimal damage from our operation, although their Air Force has been routed from the area by Lotus Squadron - Vietnamese Elite Pilots.”

He then continued, “I suppose this is the best outcome for both sides, right? From a point of view that seeks to prevent deaths, I mean.”

“That’s good!” She dismisses her arm in a dim flash of light. “As far as I’m concerned, minimizing casualties is the whole point of the exercise.” Arms crossed, she looks outside the ship. “Too much blood has already been spilt on such a nice corner of the planet, don’t you agree?”

Noel nodded and said, “This is true; thanks for reminding me of that.”

Then he smiled and said, “So, we’ll be going back to Lingayen City to rest, then I’ll check the rumors that we’ll be reassigned later on. Not sure what I can talk about other than that, though? As far as I’m concerned, we’ve cracked the foes’ hold over the West Philippine Sea and that’s important… Well, not as important as saving lives.”

Marta thought that this was probably one of those moments where she was expected to take initiative and sound wise, or something like that. “Well, the path forward isn’t always obvious.” She nods again. “As long as we hold true to our convictions, we’ll find it sooner or later. Maybe this upcoming rest stop is just what everyone might need to get that moment of introspection.”

The Sister pulls a phone from a sewn-on pocket. “Let’s exchange contacts! I’m always open for consultation, though I’m more of a friendly shoulder to cry on than a confessional.”

Noel responded with a smile as he drew his own phone, saying, “Sure; I’ll share my number.”
Sister Marta

Aboard the HMS Supply

Sister Marta Rocha thought much could be said about the theological implications of mystical teleportation, especially when it involves being converted into data and transported via radio waves. The sheer disconnect between being there one moment and here the next left her stomach and equilibrium a bit out of sync. She thought this was probably what other people felt when they got seasickness - well, nothing that faith and antacids can't resolve. At least that suspicious Myron guy took her to her destination instead of dumping her in the middle of the ocean or locking her in a USB.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. No use being negative about things - she was finally done providing what help she could to the injured behind the lines, and she'd now been called in to assist - firstly by providing care to a boatload of POWs who had been incapacitated mostly peacefully. Sleeping gas was involved, but there were a few injuries since many crewmembers had been in active combat stations - running up and down, holding dangerous objects, the works. Mostly nothing more than scrapes and bruises, but a handful of concussions, broken bones, and internal fractures were also reported. And, enemies or not, Marta thought it would be downright shameful to let them be further injured while imprisoned!

"Ms. Rocha? Ms. Rocha, it's down this way."

She started for a moment as the crewman who was leading her to the brig caught her attention. She flushed slightly, almost tripping over herself as she corrected her path. How embarrassing! She got so lost in her thoughts she missed a turn. Despite the strange circumstances, the crew members were very professional, and she didn't want to make a clumsy impression on her first outing.

"Ah, sorry about that! Bit distracted is all."

Some military and even civilian authorities find her presence odd - a young nun wandering around battlegrounds and disaster zones. In a place where Arms Masters congregated in large numbers, her few eccentricities barely made an impact and only more so as Noble Arms continued to proliferate. It was gratifying - it meant that they could get down to business. Thankfully, the remainder of the trek through the ship's claustrophobic interiors was brief; soon enough, the seaman stood aside to let her into the brig area.

"Here we are, Ms. Rocha."

She stepped in gingerly and began to analyze the cells - not precisely intended to hold this many people.

"The brig is a bit overcrowded. Isn't there any more room?"

"Sorry, Ms., but we hadn't expected this many POWs. She's already full to bursting as is..."

"Nothing for it, I suppose... all the more reason for me to get started."

She calmly walks to a more central position, observing the prisoners. Many of them are still unconscious and doing fine. Some are awake but still out of it. And a few are awakened by injury, one case even showing an external fracture. Steeling herself, she raises her right hand skyward. After a few seconds, light coalesces around her right arm, plates of gilt silver appearing in flashes until the final piece, marked with a Chi-Rho, completes the gauntlet over her right hand.

"Behold, for I bring to thee Health and Healing..."

A pulse of light emanates from the Noble Arm, permeating steel and lead. Scrapes and cuts vanish, bruises dissipate, Flesh and bone reknit, and even invisible concussions are brought back into shape. The light passes even through walls, past the brig. Some sailors in the area of effect are also relieved- back pain is assuaged, migraines temporarily suppressed, and one man is suddenly and rudely sobered. That done, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a hardened radio—time to report in.

"Hey? Hey, yeah, it's Marta speaking. I managed to get here within the three-minute limit, thank goodness. What's next on the agenda?"


@Amidatelion Potential should probably be E, apart from that it's good, approval two given.


Adjustments made. Thank you for the approval.


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