Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lysvi settled back once their report was done and acknowledged by Lyndin, pulling out their ComTech and working on gathering all the files of their findings into one easy unit that could be put in the databases. They were content to do this in silence although they were practically vibrating with their excitement and pride.

They even made sure to yield the floor in general, besides for an aloud response to Naeria, "Kurma was just as alarmed by the situation as we were." They were about to continue that way, listening to Lyndin as he spoke, nodding in agreement that they would learn from what happened -- although Lysvi had thought they had done a good job in an unexpected situation, and they all did as well as they could with new events -- until Fae-Fae's news came up on the ComTech.

With wide eyes, they glanced between Fae-Fae and Naeria; that must have been heavy for the both of them, and while they were glad they were both alive they wondered how they both were, mentally. It cut their excitement with a knife and they weren't even vibrating at all when they offered to Fae-Fae, gently, "I'm glad you're alive. I'm intrigued too, and would love to find out more if we can--"

What they did not expect was the following accusation, and their brows rose to their hairline. They took a deep breath and reminded themselves that this was a tense situation for all of them, that most of them were not used to the kind of stamina to persist in a long-term goal like this--translation of old documents written in an unknown language was not as severe but certainly required stamina--and that they were all going to have different approaches to that tension and sometimes it would clash.

They empathized with all the positions, really.

"No, of course we haven't." They spoke carefully, looking to Aliez and Vyn's attempt to calm him, maybe. "I miss Velencya and those we left behind without hesitation. And I think we all care about Velencya, and Velenia, and saving them. But this is a long-term mission. And a mission as severe and vital as this one was always going to attract varied approaches to reach the same ultimate goal. It's like translation, the same approach doesn't work every time. For example, if I hadn't separated, I would have never found the beacon."

Lysvi fidgeted. Their bleeding heart didn't like the sudden tension.

"Today was a hard day. We're all safe. Let's just breathe and evaluate what we've gotten."

((I think this covers everyone addressed, sorry if I missed someone!))

Nessaela had sensed the silent arrival of Itztenoch at her back; knew it was him from how his presence seemed to radiate stability. He was a solid bulwark standing firm but even so she chanced a quick turn of her head to confirm her comrade's position before nodding in silent appreciation. She was sure he would have seen the gesture for what it was, a non-verbal thank you. Settling back into the chair that she had occupied at the beginning of the meeting Nessaela allowed the conversation to weave around her as everyone put forth what they had experienced on Astraya to the Commodore. Mostly everyone there had knowledge of events from the strange world that she had not been present for.

The whole experience for her had been meeting one specific robot and being able to assist it in fixing its damaged compartment, and at the same time meeting some pleasant senshi and a Mauvian. She'd been with Tenoch the entire time. It didn't seem as if they had been in any danger. But perhaps she had been wearing rose-colored glasses, as those of Earth often said of overly-optimistic people.

The crux of of everyone's information reveal to the Commodore finally trickled to a slow stream and even Nessaela found herself reacting to the news that one of their own had fallen victim, albeit temporarily, to having their starseed stolen. Her eyes sought out first Fae-fae, and then Naeria, before she she sat back in her chair. So while she and Tenoch had been distracted, others had suffered. That idea rolled around in her mind before she shifted in her seat.

The accusation though, from Aliez of all people, that those of the Vanguard had forgotten their mission, had an almost instantaneous reaction from Nessaela as she recoiled before feeling her spine stiffen in response. That accusation, in her mind, was uncalled for. She didn't care that Aliez was a corporal now. She knew that as a cadet she should show respect for those that had earned their promotions, but what had been said was like a slap in the face to everyone. Her voice was suddenly found as she rose from her chair, "I've not forgotten about the mission as you imply I might have," and here Nessa faltered as her frustration with everything wanted to boil over. Her voice was quiet when she spoke again, "perhaps I wasn't the best representative to send as I've yet to find a project to call my own, but that doesn't mean that I don't remember what the end goal is," here Nessaela took a deep breath before her gaze turned to Lyndin. He was their leader and they were supposed to follow him. But yet Nessaela had questions, had had them ever since he had almost murdered one of their own. She had voiced some of them before, almost a year ago, but still more had cropped up.

Instead of voicing these questions though Nessaela fell silent. In her mind, she didn't have anything to share about Astraya and instead had let an accusatory barb get under her skin and ruffle her feathers. Her voice was softer and respectful as she addressed two of those that had experienced hardship during the Astrayan abduction, "Fae-fae, I'm glad you are alright and Naeria, you are owed the recognition in saving her. I have nothing of importance to add from our time on Astraya so I think I'll excuse myself now."

There was a marked pause as she debated saying anything else before she turned away from the rest of the group. She didn't have anything else to add, it was true, and staying wasn't in the cards. So with her mind made up, Nessaela left the discussion and returned to her room.

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I am sorry, this got long; I bolded dialogue to try and make it easier, everything else is mostly just internal thoughts orz

Panic swept through Andreiya immediately. The shifting emotions had rapidly turned him inside out, and his eyes lifted to Lyndin so he could watch him scanning the seeds. He wanted to chime in that when he’d scanned it nothing had shown up, but he supposed Lyndin would know in a few seconds–and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

He knew Aliez. He knew what he’d been through that night, for the most part. They’d been together for almost the entirety of it.

He had followed along with the messages sent through the ComTech during their time on ‘Astraya’, and he kept his open now so he could read the messages as they came through.

Briefly, his eyes flashed to Fae-Fae when she spoke about her starseeds being taken. He hated the robots, he didn’t think they emulated emotions well. He thought their programming was horrible. The machines were falling apart and made him feel emotions he hadn’t felt with such capacity before.

Andreiya hated them. Even now, there was a stirring in the pit of his stomach that seemed unbecoming.

He didn’t blame Aliez for lashing out. He felt like throwing up right now.

He was proud of Naeria for helping save Fae-Fae, but Aliez was right–they should have stuck together. Even as a group, they’d been harassed–if any one of those Senshi or Knights had gotten them alone, what better place to hurt them, or worse, than some faraway world where no one could find them? With robots that wanted their starseeds, anyway?

He was glad to see Neryn, he would have liked to know if they’d had any more information or ideas on how to save their world. He’d have asked now if he’d trusted himself in any capacity, but he was still emotional and things were only compounding.

Vyn and Aliez seemed in the same boat. Andreiya was stubborn and tried to stand a little straighter, but the weight of it all was too much on his shoulders and he curled into himself. He crossed his arms over his chest and dug his fingers into his arms to try and hold himself together.

Naeria’s frantic messages and apologies made him look at her with sympathy and worry. His fingers bit into his arms further.

He didn’t trust Lysvi’s account of Kurma, not because he didn’t trust Lysvi but because he didn’t trust Kurma, who he had seen for scant seconds, and who had offered no guidance. For all he knew, he had orchestrated the whole thing. He hadn’t even liked the Commodore before! Why wouldn’t he have tried to disrupt the Vanguard?

Nessaela’s outburst shook the dam, and then she left and it broke. He couldn’t contain himself anymore. He didn’t want anyone else to leave. He didn’t want anyone else to hurt, or to cry.

“It was a long night,” he agreed, “And I thought I was prepared but I wasn’t. And it is very frustrating to know that I gave it my best and I have nothing to show for it. I explored. I asked questions. The robots were useless.” He looked apologetic at the rest of the Vanguard, because he knew some of them seemed fond of them, but he continued, “There was a ship, and it was cruel. And there was a little robot that leaked everywhere and it lied to us and abandoned us. It taunted us with information, and then they tried to steal starseeds. And it was very stressful to not know where everyone was, or if they were hurt. My ComTech did not work very well, and sometimes I did not get messages until they might have been too late to be useful. I will need to check it. I did not have a good experience with the artificial life forms. And we were accosted early on in the night by people who resented us just for being Vanguardians. Everything was confusing and overwhelming, it wasn’t like our missions or our training. And you were not there, and I panicked,” Andreiya confessed, and his face burned, and he couldn’t look at Lyndin.

“It was overwhelming. And here on Earth, everyone is so distant. The Earth people here want to drive us apart, they always try to pull us in different directions. And we were so strong together before we came here.” He looked at Aliez and his heart hurt, because he couldn’t imagine what his friend was going through that would have the soft-hearted medic so upset. He knew things couldn’t be how they were before, but he wanted them to be better.

He wanted this to bring them together, not drive them apart. They’d have to come together if they were going to save Velencya, that was the whole reason they were still here. The whole reason they were sacrificing this time away from those back home–from their friends and family, who cared for them. Missed them.

“I don’t even know what everyone is working on. But I want to, and I don’t want to see anyone upset. I miss home,” his voice broke so he sucked it up and realized he couldn’t even remember what he was trying to say. For a second, he sputtered, and his nails bit deeper, and it was bad enough that he could ramble in private, but in public, it was worse.

“I know everyone does. I know–I know everyone cares. I know we all want to save our home. I just–I would really like if we could spend more time together, like we used to. We are all working but we are not always working together. And I think if we had stayed together, we would have been safer. Because it wasn’t just the robots we should have been worried about, it was the people from Earth, too. We made it back safe this time but I don’t want this to happen again and see something go wrong. It is easy to become confused when we are separated. And to feel like we are not on the same page. We can pursue different paths with the same goal in mind, but I don’t want to lose anyone along the way, that’s all. I’m sorry. I think that is all Aliez meant, too. We were very worried about everyone and did not know where they were or what had happened. It was disorienting. I’ll do better next time. Maybe we all can.”

Not that they had all done anything bad! But–they could be better. They were stronger together. He was glad that nothing had happened to Lysvi or Vyn when they’d had to break away to do things individually, but.

Things could have been worse.

He didn’t know what he’d have done if they hadn’t come back.

The tension was worsening.

Lysvi was calm. Vyn thought, at that point, perhaps the situation would not devolve further. But then Nearia was upset, Nessaela left (a desire Vyn understood, though the follow through left him horrified), Fae-Fae made an attempt at rational discussion, but it was not to be. Andreiya was rattled, still, though he tried to maintain the peace. Neryn broke.

Vyn kept his eyes closed. Things were easier that way. He didn’t have to look at faces, watch expressions come and go.

This was not what he intended when he gave his initial testimony. When he spoke of “lax behavior” and “poor judgment,” he had given no specifics, and he had named no names. That, he would save for the formal report he would submit later. It would be private, not meant to shame (in most cases), simply to bring the Commodore’s attention to areas that might need improvement.

He had included himself in all of it, spoke of their time on Astraya as if it had been a communal effort, as if the faults that existed were also his own. He did not look for praise, or recognition. Even the efforts he had undertaken alone, making a second search of the ship, he had presented as if everyone had contributed. There had been little use of “I,” or “me,” or “my.” There had been “we,” and “us,” and “our.” Vyn had not gone without making mistakes. He was too emotional. He let the atmosphere of the ship get the best of him. He, too, went off on his own when it seemed as if the others were content to break away, because he thought, in doing so, he could save his friends from the stresses of their environment.

Somehow, it all devolved into something personal.

Vyn understood where Aliez was coming from. They’d discussed it between themselves — their doubts and fears, the sense of urgency Vyn did not often feel the others shared. Perhaps they shouldn’t have discussed it at all, if it led to this. Vyn should have kept it to himself, pushed it down and let it fester. It clearly troubled Aliez. He would not be saying these things if Vyn had not brought the thought front and center.

It was Vyn’s fault, and now the others were turning on Aliez.

He held onto Aliez’s arm, kept him close and steady — kept his own mouth shut, too, even when instinct compelled him to defend his friend. All this talk of what they’d been trained for...

Maybe they had not been trained for some of the specifics of their mission on Earth, maybe nothing could have fully prepared them to be whisked away to some strange planet with inorganic life without any warning, but they had been trained for survey and survival. They should be able to utilize that training even in unfamiliar circumstances. They were the Vanguard — the elite of Velencya. What had they expected when they joined? Easy, predictable missions? A comfortable life among their people?

Vyn struggled through a calming breath. He swallowed around a painful lump in his throat. He opened his eyes and stared off into nothing, through the blurry film of unshed tears.

“I… while we were stranded… there were occasions when I attempted to take the lead, with varying degrees of success, so… I will accept the blame for any faults there may have been,” Vyn said to the room at large. “Furthermore, I have burdened Aliez with my own doubts. Please direct any disappointment or contempt you might feel toward me, and allow him to continue his duties in the same objective manner he has demonstrated until now.”

Lyndin’s eyes flicked up as he listened; initially he seemed like he’d wanted to focus on reading his ComTech to determine the origin and identity of these seeds, but his attention had been captured by the sudden outburst of emotions.

At first, he was impassive. And then, he looked unimpressed. Anger never crossed his features, but if he’d been upset, they wouldn’t have seen it now.

He took careful stock of every word, every outburst, every emotion.

He didn’t seem impressed by ‘sentient robots’. He didn’t seem to care how Kurma felt.

Lyndin didn’t interrupt. He gave them the time to voice their thoughts and feelings. To spill out all of the little parts of themselves that they’d kept locked up. Maybe just from tonight. Maybe for longer. He didn’t stop them.

He watched them. He listened.

He could have been unreadable if he’d wanted to, but he wasn’t.

He was disappointed.

His brows raised just slightly and his jaw was firm.

He cared about his people more than he cared about anything else. More than he cared about himself. And, he didn’t have to say it for it to be obvious that this was not the communication he expected from them.

Going over the weaknesses of a mission and suggestions for improvement was a reasonable expectation. Accountability, plans to improve–those were things he understood. Raw emotion, abandoning each other, attacking each other. These were unusual. These were dangerous.

As a cohesive unit, they had failed. There was no coming back from it when they couldn’t talk to each other. Couldn’t try to work together.

Naturally, this was an unprecedented situation. He’d never had any branch of the Vanguard away from home for such an extended period of time. And they seemed like they were falling apart.

He’d been too lax, himself.

He’d chosen this group because they were promising. They were fresh minded and devoted to their task. Had been devoted to each other. But, the frayed, exposed edges were the most concerning thing in all of this. The pure, raw anger was the most alarming expression.

Anger bred hatred. Hatred bred war.

So, Lyndin did not get angry.

He was just disappointed.

Whatever success they might have had while on were greatly dampened by this. He’d spent the day worrying for them, and he would have much rather had a relaxing reunion where he could have breathed easier just knowing they were okay.

He was tired. He was in pain. He had a world to save. Or, die trying.

A moment passed. In the silence of the room, he finally answered Aliez. “I don’t know. But I’m losing faith that we have enough time. Especially when our coordination has failed so severely. I’m surprised to hear that everything fell apart so quickly. Perhaps I expected too much too soon. I’d rather speak to you all individually and work on you think you can improve for yourself and what we can improve as a team. Conflict won’t aid us. We’re here, together. To save Velencya. And I trust that none of you have forgotten it. I trust that you are all working towards this goal. Whatever path you are pursuing, I trust that these things are always in the back of your mind.”

But, Earth could be distracting. Their schedules were disrupted. It wasn’t their fault. He was the one who’d had to spend so much time recovering. He didn’t regret all that he’d sacrificed to ensure that Velencya had more time, but he did regret leaving them on their own for so long.

It was unfair to expect so much of them.

But, he could make time. He needed to heal. He needed to work on his projects. He would find more time for the Vanguard.

“Whatever shortcomings we have, we’ll address them. Together. We’ll be stronger for it. I want to enhance all of your strengths, and correct all of your weaknesses. You are the future of Velencya. If it’s going to have one.”

He looked across the room, at each and every one of them.

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe in you. And I’m going to do everything in my power to see that this mission isn’t a failure. We have so much left to do, and I need you all. I need you to work together. To trust each other. I need you to take care of yourself, and each other. I’ll read over all of your reports. But I want to speak to you personally. We haven’t had individual reviews since before we got here, and I think you all deserve more attention than I’ve been able to give you. I can tell you’re all under a lot of pressure. But, we’ll figure this out, together. We will turn our weaknesses into strengths, and our flaws into growth. I believe in each and every one of you. And I need you to believe in yourself, and each other. Will you all work with me to achieve that?”

Neryn sagged, shoulders rolling forward and curling in on themself. The disappointment hurt worse than any words Aliez could have spoken, and they found themself wishing they'd never said anything at all. After all, it had been easier when Neryn just followed orders, without question or doubt. Yet, they'd thrown that all to the side simply because something about the method of saving their world didn't sit right with them.

Stars above, they didn't deserve to even be a Cadet, let alone part of the Vanguard.

"... My apologies, Corporals and Commedore... I spoke out of turn and in... frustration," they said, saluting and then falling silent.

Now was not the time nor the place to express any more of their doubts. Perhaps it was best if Neryn just... kept their doubts to themself from now on.

Neryn would stay that way until they were dismissed.

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The Space Cauldron

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Naeria shrank farther and farther into herself as the conversation went on. Some people were defending themselves, some people were trying to accept blame, or pass it on. The emotion in the room was palpable.

The Commodore was disappointed.

At some point, Neryn had come over to her side, and she leaned against them, thankful for the support. Her Comtech was banished to subspace. She didn't want to say anything more. She didn't want to disappoint anyone more.

She was exhausted. Her heart hadn't slowed down all the way from seeing Fae-Fae laying out lifeless on the ground of the ruins. Part of her was still angry. Part of her, underneath the lump in her throat, wanted to say something about how of course she was a disappointment to the Commodore, of course he just saw her as broken no matter what she did, no matter what lives she saved.

She was disappointed in him, too. She'd been disappointed in him for months, and the fact that he was giving vague answers about the state of Velencya and not any sort of estimates or measurements was not helping.

Was that a fair judgement? No, not completely. As she sat there, watching everyone's outbursts, it occurred to her that they were all in emotionally compromised states.

Naeria wasn't often angry. She didn't often snap. She did want to save Velencya. She had stayed with the Vanguard, despite her misgivings.

In the future, she would try to do her best to work with the others towards this goal. She would try to make the positive changes needed in her own approaches. She would try to build more positive relationships so it didn't come to this point again, assuming she could find her voice. She would check in with the Commodore, see if she could get more specific information out of him about the Vanguard's unified goals.

Of course, so she didn't snap again and make things worse before that could happen, she made the conscious decision to stay quiet until she had a chance to sleep.