Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Ah, I was just going out too, And hello Captain... Hendlow" Kai said, reading Garret's name tag. He stepped out of the door, a little wary of the apparently angry officer. he wasn't feeling in the fighting mood, having been just dumped to the floor by a small woman.

***

Evelyn smirked "This is going to be fun" She announced, soon all video screens in view, both inside and outside, switched to a picture of her face smiling. She waved a happy wave upon the screen, though her physical body was motionless and her eyes glazed over. " Hi Terran Marines! I'm the newest terran admiral!" the T.V. girl said, as a picture of the Hymn flew by in the background. She was having fun with this little display. soon she disappeared and the screen returned to normal, however, and so did she, a slight clicking noise coming from her eyes turning themselves back on. She bowed to the four nearest marines and stepped out of the way, deciding to go with them "Ooh, my Databases say marines like to drink, so why don't we go to a bar? according to my sources there's a very good one nearby!" with that the girl dashed off, but soon stopped and waved "Come on! we gotta get there before dark!"

Garrett sighed to himself, then watched somewhat amazed as the girl went off on some tangent about being the Admiral. He gave a brief nod to Kai, a trained response that had been cultivated from years in the military. There was no way in Hell... So he ignored her. It was even easier to ignore her when he figured out where she was headed. Rather than follow, he noted one of the four he had yelled at. A seasoned figure to be sure, even if his rank was lowly. Garrett followed this man to a small pub he probably would have never noticed. He entered and took up a seat with the man.

"You'll have to excuse the grouchiness of earlier," Garrett muttered quietly, eying the barkeep while waiting his turn to order. "I'm impatient with counter-productive military operations... so to speak." Finally, his turn.

"Two bottles of vodka." The barkeep raised an eyebrow. Garrett only smirked. "One for here, and one to go." Still that same stupefied look.

"I'm not going to get s**t-faced," Garrett muttered lowly. "Just get them." Finally, the man went on his way.

KAi, toowalked the opposite direction, he knew the bar she was headed to, and hated it. It drew too many shady characters, and lots of rowdy drunken marines. right now that was the last thing he wanted to deal with. he, too, entered the small bar, and sat at the other end of the bar "Hey, Joe, the usual" he said to the barkeep, amd the man nodded, opening up a minifridge near the Captain. He pulled out an Orange soda and poured it in a glass, adding a couple ice cubes before handing it to the blonde. Kai drank the non-alcoholic beverage to quite a few stares, which he ignored.

***

Seeing everyone leave, Evelyn huffed and pouted, too angry to watch where the soldiers had gone back in the lab where she was created, she had been their little princess, and she always got what she wanted. Slowly, but surely, the real world was catching up with her, and she didn't like it. So, she did something her programming suddenly prompted her to, and linked up with the Battle Hymn, searching through it's parameters and possible weapons loadouts. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, immovable, eyes glazed over. She was planning something. something she thought would make the marines like her more.

Once again, Steven went off by himself, going nowhere in particular. Being by himself never bothered Steven much. He had gotten used to it after some time after being stationed on the Hymn, and he completely understood peoples' motives for ignoring him; he knew he could be obnoxious quite often. Mainly he got by through the mutual friendship he had shared with the men of Green Squadron, and by spending time perfecting his piloting skills. But now with the men of Green Squadron either dead or in intensive care, and with his fighter impounded aboard the Hymn, Steven had nothing to do but wander around.

"Green Squadron," Steven spoke the name as if it were the name of a foreign place he had never heard of, "Dammit. I am going to miss those guys." It was the first time he had thought about his lost comrades since he had left the hospital wing on the Hymn. It was finally starting to sink in that he was never going to see them again, and was reminded that is was because of the foolish choice he had made.

After walking around the hotel for a while, Steven found the room he would be staying in. He dumped his pack on the bed and looked around the small room. Everything was too tidy. Steven didn't like it, and left the room again. He made his way down the main lobby, and plopped himself down on a couch, and, before he knew it, he nodded off to sleep.

Garrett nodded. "Thought as much. Look forward to blowing s**t up for you in the years to come," he replied. "Hope you like your sleep. Our engineers are a slow bunch." Smirking, Garrett turned his attention toward the two bottles of vodka now standing on the counter before him. He opened one, took a sip, then headed for the door. He had a project to start.

Standing over his personal desk and workbench whose ends were perpendicular to another, Garrett looked up. Halfway through the speech he laughed heartily and turned back to his paperwork. Despite all the fun he was allowed to have, and the freedom he had to invent whatever he pleased, he still had to record the munitions and gear that came and went. Of course, with the demolitions team being such a small crew, it was hard to miss anything.

Quite to Garrett's satisfaction, the size of the group also made them a close-knit network. If for example, you had a question about the effects of a concentrated reflector beam coming within range of a dispersion field, someone would be able to answer you. More often than not, Garrett had the answers though all his officers were competent.

The paperwork was finished by the time the Admiral had finished speaking. Thinking of the Admiral, he wondered just how controversial the issue had been. There was an A.I. aboard the Terrans' most valuable battle ship serving as its Admiral; all humans were subject then to a computer's will. Just how many among the Terran government had fought that?

He shook his head and let the thoughts slide. It was unimportant. The decision would only become critical should Evelyn begin to show signs of poor judgment; for now, she was in the green. Should she slip up, though...

"I've got just the gift for her," he muttered, holding a small rectangular fixture in the palm of his gloved hand. One side was adhesive, with the tiniest of apertures in the center for the needle. It could be hidden in his sleeve, and when the time arose, he could stick it to her arm or back, or anywhere really. The contact would activate the needle, and it would strike into her muscles. More importantly, it would make contact with nerves (or whatever system the organic A.I.s used to transmit signals) and send a crippling shock straight to the harddrive. Soft data (that is, 'memories' and other data not embedded into her systems) would be eradicated. Even if there was a layer of metal beneath that skin, it would be enough to transmit the shock.

"I just wonder if she's dependent upon other organs as well..." That was something to be considered. If he caused, say, heart failure, or involuntary muscles to cease functioning, it would defeat the purpose. His aim in creating the device was to have a method of 'restarting' the A.I., not 'killing' it. Without the A.I., flying the Hymn in a straight line would become something more than a chore for the bridge crew. He couldn't even fathom how they would handle battle maneuvers. "I just hope it never comes to that."

Upon embarkation to the Hymn, Jack quickly found his quarters. It was only a small room, since he was just a worthless grunt. He quickly dumped out the few belongings he had, setting out his books on his small shelf and cramming his clothes into his closet. He sat on the bed for a moment, wondering what to do, as the hyperdrive engaged. Moments later, a familiar voice came giggling onto the loudspeakers, delivering a surprising message. Jack gave a worn smile, standing up from his bed. There wasn't much to do anyways.

Jack strolled down the narrow hall of the ops level, quickly finding the barracks he was assigned to. A few other marines had already made it, and were in the process of strapping on armor and cleaning rifles. Jack approached the highest ranking man he saw. "Hello, Sergeant. I was transferred on at Altres. Could use some gear, the base back there didn't have many armaments and all I got was a rifle." The sergeant shook Jack's hand and shoved the other into his pocket. He withdrew a worn locker key, with a small drop of caked blood still clinging to it. "You look about the same size as Rodriguez was. That's his locker over there." The sergeant pointed over to a locker against the wall. Taking the key, Jack opened the locker. He could tell the equipment had been used. It now smelled of disinfectant, but smears of red could still be made out on the chest plating. Reluctantly, Jack strapped himself into the combat armor, a sour look on his face from the strong smell coming off it. He quickly prepared himself for the upcoming mission, heading to the hangar with the rest of his new squad when he was done.

Upon arriving in the hanger, Steven quickly found his fighter off to the side. He froze at once, and looked like he was about to have a fit. "What did they do to my scimitar!" he shouted after a few seconds and ran to the fighter, "What did they do to you?!"
"They put some new power generators into the scimitars, moron. You would know that if you actually took time to read the ship diagnostics instead of crying about it," said a young man standing near a fighter.
"And who the Hell are you?" Steven asked quickly, turning away from his own fighter. It was then that he noticed something he had missed. There were seven new scimitar fighters positioned near his fighter.
"Name is Mark. I am one of the new pilots assigned to Green Squadron, because apparently its idiot Squad leader ran a suicide mission. Who are you?" the man said with a smirk.
"Name is Steven. I am the idiot Squad leader for Green Squadron. Pleased to meet you," Steven replied, a slight glint a suppressed rage showing in his eyes.
"Oh sweet Jesus," the man muttered incoherently.