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35 - Argonauts

CHAPTER 35 - ARGONAUTS

DATE POINT: MAY 10th, 7 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION)

LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN FIST OF THE ARGONAUTS

LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER OLIVIA SEYDOUX

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Lieutenant-Commander Olivia Seydoux gripped her datapad as she strode through the armored bulkhead leading into the CIC. Her captain, Commander Coulson Cutter was busy at work typing into his console. He worked there, calm as ever amidst the storm of activity surrounding them. There was a lot of work to do if they wanted to be ready to once again take the plunge into FTL and scout the way ahead for the Indomitable Will to follow safely in their wake. It was a duty they took seriously, and the efficient working of their bridge crew was testament to this. Unwilling to waste the time waiting to be noticed, Olivia cleared her throat to get his attention before speaking.

"Captain."

“Ah, Olivia, good! Perfect timing as always, I'm just wrapping up here. I just was about to check in with you. How is the re-provisioning going?” he asked, without bothering to look up from his own work.

“The boys have it all packed away and ready. Water storage tanks are fully topped off, and both the port and starboard cargo bays are filled to the brim with dry food stocks. Unfortunately, the need to accommodate the extra supply crates for our new guests came at the cost of a few weeks’ worth of food from our usual stockpile. We have enough for only four months at standard rations in storage.” She replied, trying to conceal the twinge of frustration.

That got Commander Cutter’s attention. “That’s a lot of lost buffer room. We should have six months, I would expect maybe five with that few weeks taken up storing the extra crates. What in the world could they need to bring onboard so bad that would take up that much space?” He asked, finally looking up from his console to provide his full attention.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Four crates with special armor expansion packs, six more full of advanced self-repair materials, several crates full of just supplement pills, things like that. They’re all pumped full of this new xenotech, so of course we need to store everything they require to keep it working. Not to mention their caloric intake is almost twice that of the marines they’ve displaced. Apparently the larger one's calorie needs could double again by the time they’re done with their... integration... as they call it. Part of the reduction in the longevity of our supplies is due to calculating out the extra strain on our rations.” Olivia said with a frown.

“Jesus, I know it’s the captain’s orders and I get the necessity of bringing them onto our ship, but I can’t help but wonder; just what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” Commander Cutter replied, looking pensive.

“You should see them when you get a moment. They’re enormous. Staff Sergeant Hamilton alone I hear is almost two and a half meters tall! I don’t even know where we can bunk them that they’ll fit. Thankfully, there’s only four of them that are that big. The rest are pretty normal sized, so we can hot rack them in the normal shift rotation with the rest of the crew.”

“Hmmm... just four of the juggernaut sized ones, huh? That I think we can work with. I have an idea. Let's have the firemen weld up some heavy duty bunks with some spare steel and place them in the Patriot mech bay. That’s the only spot in the ship with the extra room that I can think of off the top of my head.”

“Alex isn’t going to like that.” Olivia replied, even though she was just as stumped as to a better option.

“Too bad, orders are orders. From the sounds of our new mission profile, we're gonna need them. They're part of the crew now, and they need to eat and sleep just like the rest of us. If he complains, tell him to take it up with me.” Commander Cutter replied.

“I’ll see to it, captain.” Olivia said with a small smile and a snort. Their hardheaded Patriot mech pilot would just have to deal with the encroachment. Maybe a small dose of humility would do the man some good. Olivia figured if anyone could humble him, a handful of literal super humans living in his Patriot hangar would be the ideal candidates for the job.

“Good, then get them on it right away. We don’t have a whole lot of time to work with before we leave Jovian space and jump back into FTL. We need to make sure we are ready to be on our own again.”

“Did we get an exact timetable from the Indomitable Will on that yet?” Olivia asked.

“Captain O’Toole says that we are nearing the intersection point with the inter-system gravitational superhighway. We are going to need to be FTL ready in the next six hours.” Commander Cutter said, returning his attention to looking over his console. Olivia nodded.

“That should be enough time if they get on it now.” She said.

“Then do so, Lieutenant Commander. Ping me if you have any issues.” The captain said in dismissal.

“I’ll take care of it, Sir.” She said, rolling her eyes after turning away.

“You always do.” She heard him reply as she left the CIC. Damn right I do. She thought with a small, private smile.

Now let's go find ourselves a welder... Olivia thought as she headed towards the quick lift.

ONE HOUR LATER….

DATE POINT: MAY 10th, 7 A.U. (AFTER UNIFICATION)

LOCATION: SOL SYSTEM, ABOARD UTRN FIST OF THE ARGONAUTS

LIEUTENANT PAUL KARST

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Paul leaned back against the bulkhead wall in the mess as he watched Hamilton show off for the crew. The man was truly shameless, and was thus perfect for the job, Paul thought as he smirked and slowly shook his head. The rest of the teams were getting settled in, and were ordered to ingratiate themselves in with the crew. The Guardians, however, had a different assignment.

“This is nothin’ I could do this all day!” Hamilton shouted as he continued to perform seemingly effortless pushups with four people sitting across his back and shoulders.

He had already lifted Victor over his head with two people on each arm pulling against him with all their might. When Paul had suggested they begin their assignment on the Fist of the Argonauts with a full on charm offensive, he hadn’t envisioned this. Paul could hardly argue with the results, though. People were eating it up and the mess hall was full of rowdy sailors shouting out other random and insane challenges.

The only person who seemed unimpressed with the display was a certain Lieutenant Junior Grade over in the corner who sat the whole thing out with a scowl on his face. The eagle patch on his specialist BDU’s outed him as the Fist of the Argonaut’s resident Patriot mech pilot.

“You think this is cool? Check what the Lieutenant can do!” Hamilton pivoted from a one armed handstand by swinging his legs around into a kick that sent a cup full of hot coffee straight towards Paul. Aided by his neural computer, time seemed to slow as Paul analyzed the situation and realized what Hamilton’s plan had to be. Paul hadn't intended to show off his telekinesis right away, but now it seems his hand had been forced.

This wasn't part of the plan, asshole! Paul stared down Hamilton with narrowed eyes. Hamilton simply winked back in reply.

Paul formed a small TK field at the center of the expanding cloud of coffee, capturing the cup and drawing the steaming black beverage back in on itself and into the shape of a sphere. Slowly and with great care, Paul moved the center of the TK field down towards the closest table set the coffee cup down. He then released the TK field, which dropped the coffee ball back into the cup with little more than a few drops spilled. Not too bad if I may say so myself.

“Whoah.” “That’s so cool! How'd he do that?!” “He's a telekinetic?!” "A WHAT?!?"

Paul plastered his best fake smile on his face while Hamilton grinned shamelessly. Even the grump in the corner seemed to drop his attitude at the display, even if just for a moment.

“All right, all right! Staff Sergeant Hamilton wasn’t supposed to give my little secret away like that. I'll admit it, I’m one of a handful of natural human telekinetics. Yes, there are some truths to the rumors, I can fly and toss enemies around with it, and no, I've never met Joshua Warden.”

The patriot pilot in the corner raised his eyebrows in surprise before resuming his glare.

Hey creepy, let’s get a mind read on that fellow over there.

His emotions are a curious mix…. Contempt, and smug superiority judging Hamilton's ostentatious display… to thinly veiled envy directed towards you…. with great inner turmoil fighting for sway..... his mind is yet to be made.... be cautious with this one…. He is used to sitting atop the pyramid.... his influence will be useful to your ends.... with his trust comes that of much of the crew.... be careful, and put your best efforts int to making friends....

Thanks, dad. I recognize that we need to work closely with these people and to gain their trust. I'm not an idiot.

You have a fairly abrasive personality.... I do not recommend acting in your normal manner... if you intend to make him a friend, not an enemy.

“It’s just a little parlor trick people, calm down. The really strong telekinetics can float a person, throw back grenades, and a few other cool things. There are some tactical applications, but they wear down quick and bullets can kill them the same as anyone. My Patriot suit, Ghost can run two TK fields and two null barriers simultaneously while providing fire support, and it never gets tired.” Lieutenant Junior Grade Watkins said, while staring Paul straight in the eyes with a smug look

Diplomacy is the better choice… better to watch each other’s backs than have to watch your own.

Thanks, creepy, I got this. Diplomacy, sure... here it goes.

“You’re right about that, and in squad support a Patriot mech is a handy tool that can more than make up for the size and strength differences we face. In a skilled pilot’s hands they are damn near invincible. I look forward to seeing what you can do with it, just as I am sure you’ll be glad to have us watching your six when the shit hits the fan.” Paul smirked and kept up the eye contact while gesturing to the rest of the Guardians.

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Most of the people in the mess had died down as they watched the showdown. Paul did his absolute best to neither break the tension nor be the first to look away.

“That’s enough Alex. You and Lieutenant Karst can have your dick measuring contest another time. I need to see the two of you in the Patriot bay immediately.” A sharp rebuke came from outside of Paul’s cone of view. Alex’s eyes snapped open wide for just a moment, and he straightened up right away.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Paul turned to see the most strikingly beautiful, tall, raven-haired, amazon of a woman he had ever seen. She wore the bars and star of a Lieutenant-Commander and had an imposing, practically weaponized aura virtually pouring off of her. In spite of his normal predilections to chase a rather more submissive partner, something about her combination of beauty and no- nonsense attitude locked Paul out of his higher level thinking in a way he was entirely unaccustomed to. His heart was beating fast and his jaw was as stubbornly locked up as his brain.

You’re staring…. snap out of it and say something!

Right.

Paul pulled himself together and saluted. “Lieutenant Paul Karst, at your service!”

Hamilton was visible from the corner of his eye practically doubled over trying to avoid laughing, and Paul was deeply aware that he had just made an ass of himself.

“I know who you are, Lieutenant. Right now, I just need you to follow me. Lieutenant-Commander Blackford is waiting for us already and I have a dozen other urgent tasks I need to get to so time is of the essence. We have less than four hours to get this boat FTL - ready, so let’s get a move on!” She said with just a subtle hint of annoyance while turning.

Alex followed her, Paul stood transfixed by her figure as she moved down the corridor before he snapped out of it and followed behind as well.

I think I’m in love.

She isn't.... and neither are you.... the limitations of your biochemistry have reduced your cognitive effectiveness....

Can it Creepy, it's just an expression. What do you know about love anyway?

I feed upon and read emotions as freely… as you read the words from a page.... I have lived a thousand lifetimes by proxy.... you are confined to your own limited experience... while I have a window into them all....

Paul rolled his eyes, but ultimately decided to not argue the point further. From up ahead of them, she turned her head for a moment before she addressed them.

“I know we hadn’t been able to formally meet one another yet, Lieutenant. My name is Lieutenant Commander Olivia Seydoux, and I am the Executive Officer of the Fist of the Argonauts. I've been working with Lieutenant-Commander Blackford until now, arranging your extra supplies and finding your squad mates a berth. We have run into a bit of an… issue with the placement of your Guardians, as I understand you call yourselves.”

“Thank you for helping get us accommodated, Lieutenant-Commander. May I ask what issue it is that you are having? I'd be glad to help in any way I can be put to use. In fact, you can use me any way you like.” Paul replied. As soon as the words had escaped his lips he had realized he made a mistake.

She turned as they approached the door to the upper landing of the Patriot bay before she looked him up and down with clear disapproval.

“For your benefit, I'm going to ignore that comment. Once. The issue we are having stems from the fact that you are so much larger than a normal person, Lieutenant. They told me you were smart, I really didn't think I'd have to spell it out for you. You can barely fit a standard bunk without curling up into the fetal position, and I understand that you are only going to get larger once this xenotech you have injected yourselves with is done with its... integration. You present us with a problem this ship was not designed to solve.”

She really doesn’t like you...

Thanks Snarky, I think I caught on without your help. Now please stop distracting me.

“I take it that you have found a solution? We need to be forward deployed to the surface with the Fist of the Argonauts providing support and transport. I’m sure you have been provided with the mission briefings and updates on what has been decided over the past few weeks, right?” Paul asked, trying to keep the situation from degrading further than it already had.

Her eyes narrowed and she got just a little closer to being in his face. Apparently he had failed, again.

“Of course I've read the mission briefs. To answer your question, yes I have found a solution. Why else do you think I would have called you both down here?” She hissed.

“Oh no, no no no... Olivia, don’t tell me….” Alex began.

“Can it! These orders come straight from the top, and work has already begun.” She then opened the door.

A bright light from below nearly blinded Paul before his vision automatically adjusted to filter the worst of it out. A pair of massive steel bunk beds were being welded together on the cleared floor of the Patriot bay as Alex gripped the railing with white knuckles.

He's pissed, though perhaps not specifically at you.... there is wisdom budding within this one... he struggles against his anger.... his awareness grants strength....

Thanks, Creepy. I kinda figured that one out already. I think I can work with this. We need him as an ally and advocate with the crew.

“I suggest you two find a way to become friends because you're roommates now.” Olivia said while gesturing to the beds under construction on the lower deck.

“Bunk beds? Really?!” The words escaped Paul's mouth before he could stop them.

“Yes bunk beds, because space everywhere in this ship is at a premium and you all take up a huge chunk of it to yourselves, not even to mention the extra rations you will be consuming! We had to size them to fit three mattresses each, two wide and a third horizontally above just to accommodate your size and provide room to grow. Now, I expect your next words to be ones of gratitude, Lieutenant.” She said with eyes narrowed.

“Thank you, ma’am. That was very thoughtful of you.” He said, deflating a bit.

“Thank you, much better. Now, Alex, you know damn well this is the only room in the entire ship that can fit these monstrous beds. You are an officer and a damn good pilot. Before you say anything to me or anyone else about this arrangement I want you to think real hard about the level of professionalism your words will express. Have I made myself clear?” Olivia said, turning to the silently fuming pilot.

It was a long moment before he finally turned and spoke. When he did, he looked up into Paul’s eyes with a defeated air and thrust his hand out to shake.

“Crystal, ma'am. Welcome to my Patriot bay, roomie. I suppose we should spend some time to get to know one another, shouldn’t we?”

Paul grit his teeth and shook.

“I can’t wait." Paul managed to choke out with his best smile.

” Good. Now if you will excuse me, I have a whole list of other duties to attend to. Play nice boys. I will be watching.” She said as she turned and left with a swing in her step.

Paul once more watched her leave, utterly transfixed, as his mind surfed atop troubled waves of conflicting emotions.

What a woman! So, Creepy, you think I got a shot?

If you desire her hand... then prepare and act according to your will.... all you need to capture her favor is… a complete overhaul to your personality, morality, and reputation, and approach…. you have failed to capture her favor, yet all hope is not totally lost.... remember, mortal, there is no fixed eventuality.... all things are possible to those who cast aside doubt… fortune favors the brave.... and the future belongs to those willing to act with intelligence and boldness in equal measure...

Thanks, Creepy, you know, you really missed your calling as a motivational speaker. Paul thought, with just a hint of sarcasm.

Paul turned and stared wistfully off into space as he tried to get the Lieutenant-Commander off his mind. He and Alex stood in silence for a minute, both staring over the railing.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Alex began, speaking tentatively.

“She really is…” Paul replied still somewhat in a trance.

“You should see her in action. She’s got guns for days, and absolutely dominates everything in her path. Hell of a ride, too, for those who can handle her. Can’t wait to get back inside her. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a little action, if you know what I mean.” Alex said wistfully.

That snapped Paul’s attention over. Wait, they used to be together? She rejects me outright, but she got with that guy? Paul thought in mild alarm.

“You’ve taken her out already?” Paul asked before he had a chance to stop himself.

“Of course, I have! I’m her pilot, after all. She’s one hell of a machine. Our call sign is Ghost, just in case you hear people use that name, you’ll know they’re referring to us.” Paul followed Alex’s gaze over to the large mech that took up the majority of the interior of the room.

Of course, that’s what he was talking about. That was too freaking close, almost made an ass of myself again.

Inside his head he heard only snickering. Paul ignored it and decided to take the golden opportunity to jump immediately onto the offered conversational track.

“I kinda wished I had signed up for flight school, but the NAUDF never gave me the chance. Of course, I can fly anytime I wish with my telekinesis, but it’s not the same as piloting something as impressive as that.” Paul said, glad for the chance to save his foot from his mouth.

“I remember hearing the rumors about there being psionic humans that helped sway the course of the war. I guess I was kind of envious of them. I'd wanted to be a superhero since I was a kid, and the rumors were that we had real live ones fighting on our side. Having access to those kinds of powers from my seat in Ghost’s cockpit is the closest I’ll ever get. It’s cool to see there was some truth to the rumors after all.” Alex said with a small smile.

“Funny to see how we can both be jealous of the other like that. It’s nice to meet you, Ghost. I think perhaps we got off on the wrong foot.” A mischievous smile spread across Paul’s face. “I know its not the same as having powers yourself... but do you want to see what it feels like to fly? It's a completely different experience when you have the wind in your hair, let me tell you.”

A similar grin formed on Alex’s face. “Hell, yeah I do.”

Maybe we will be able to get along together just fine. Paul thought as he formed a TK field over their heads.

“Now hold on to your lunch!” Paul smirked as they lifted off the ground and flew circles around the Patriot bay. Eventually, Paul set them down on the upper landing once more. Alex sat down with an unsteady waver in his step.

"That's a lot more intense than flying with Ghost. Thanks for that. Can I ask you a question?" Alex turned serious for a moment.

"Sure thing. What would you like to know?" Paul said, looking over at him and sitting down to match him with his back against the bulkhead.

"Why did you do it? Why did you let the greys experiment on you like that?" Alex asked, looking concerned.

Be careful with your answer.... this seems to be at the core of his discontent.... there are many ways you can mess this up...

Paul took a moment to think before he replied.

"I guess because I'm already a bit of a freak experiment as it is, so it wasn't as big of a leap of faith as it may have been for others. We need an edge, the average Nephaeli'im solder is already an overpowering gigantic murder machine. Then you get one in a set of power armor and no matter how many bodies we throw at it, they just get slaughtered. The Paladin suit can even the odds kinda, but we really need an Archangel or a Patriot mech to be able to fight even a little fair, and there aren't nearly enough of them to go around. When I heard we were going to have to fight dozens of armored psionic Nephaeli'im hybrid war bodies and we weren't going to have the numbers or the tech advantage behind us to even the odds anymore? It just seemed to me like the bigger risk was to not take the augmentations. I can be that Guardian and the champion to take on the really dangerous foes so our regular solders don't have to. I've seen enough of our people get slaughtered against impossible odds. If I could prevent those deaths and reverse the odds back in our favor what kind of person would I be if I didn't take that chance? Does that make sense?"

Alex snorted and cracked a smile.

"Perfect sense, actually. That's the exact reason I wanted to be an Archangel pilot. It was even better when I got the chance to join this mission and flew the Patriot for the first time. I'd rather be the one taking the risk fighting the most dangerous enemies with our best tech, so the rest don't have to. Not everyone can do what we do, most people are not natural fighters and they just want to go home safe. There aren't many of us that are crazy enough to willingly take these kinds of risks so that they don't have to. So yeah, it makes quite a lot of sense to me."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. I can get the best tech and gene tech advantages available, I can become nearly bulletproof and superhero strong, but when the enemies we face are just as dangerous our real advantage is going to be tactics and teamwork. I'm glad to hear that we seem to share a similar mindset. We need to have each other's backs out there, or no amount of technology will be enough." Paul said.

He seems to have believed you... there is something left unsaid causing some lingering doubt.... time, patience, and consistency should clear that up... earning this one's trust will be a pivotal deciding factor....

Thanks, I got this, now please let me focus. Like you said, this is important I get this right.

"Well put." Alex said with a smirk. "You know, Lieutenant, I wasn't so sure about all this when we first met, but you're all right. You can count on me to have your back when it counts." He then turned towards Paul with a mischievous smile. "So, I hear you all spent some time in a simulator training to fight these 'god-kings'. Tell me everything. I like to know my enemies and what we are going to be up against."

Paul smiled back at him and nodded. "With pleasure."