=>[META] Sarcel Cincil's Office

[saedusk]

Well... What else could she say? Again, though Sarcel was giving her an out, Nahori felt as if she couldn't refuse. Maybe that was a good thing, because if she had her own say, she'd never step into a role outside of wimbly little bystander. A swarmer ship was what they'd been on before. She knew what to expect, right?

"Yes... yes, sir," she said, breathing in a deep, awkward breath. "I... thi- know... I know I can do it."

She hoped. Oh god.

"I... should probably go prepare, then. If you'll, um, excuse me, sir."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"I know you can too." Sarcel's eyes had an indescribable emotion behind them; was it pride, fear, a look of knowing? Hard to say, but she watched her recruit carefully all the same. The first time Nahori had been invited into this office, she was a mess. Now... she was still far from what she could be, but Sarcel wasn't about to discredit how far along she'd come along already.

"Just remember. Stay calm, be smart, consider all your options. You'll be working as a team, this isn't a death or glory mission." Her lips tightened into a taut smile, as if the word glory meant something else to her, "Dismissed."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

This time when Nahori stepped foot in Lieutenant Cincil's office, she didn't offer a polite knock as she had before. In fact, she slipped in without so much as a word, her arms full of paperwork and expression tired but neutral in the way anyone could probably tell she was holding something back.

"Sir," she finally said only when she'd reached the desk, "Here is... the report for the ship we just salvaged. Myself and, um, a few... volunteers."

As she set her work down in front of Sarcel, everything about the way she moved was stiff. Her hair was a mess, her uniform singed, her eyes sunken and rimmed in dark orange... it was obvious she'd gotten straight off the ship and started writing. Honestly, Nahori had been afraid if she'd laid down to rest first, she wouldn't have gotten back up.

continued here  

[Melancholies]

The Vicious Cruelty of the Empress

Another ship, another detonation. Returning the ships back to the planet always felt more rewarding, but Sarcel had to remind herself that this was an important aspect of the job as well. Moreso, she still couldn't help but wonder if she'd met either Silcoe or Nifera from somewhere, but...

...pouring over their documents (or rather, lack thereof), only left her with more questions than answers.

Hm.

Maybe it'd be musings for another time. As it was, she set to completing her paperwork in silence.

 

[saedusk]

This time when Nahori came to give Sarcel her report, she didn't look quite so beaten and bruised. All that was left were the remnants of the mission prior. The orangeblood couldn't say she wore the injuries with pride, but at least they reminded her of what she could accomplish if she tried.

And hey, she learned this time there were multiple ways to try. Nahori wondered if Sarcel would be proud to hear about their stealth mission, to know they'd avoided the fights they likely wouldn't have won in favor of completing their goal. Unfortunately the area of the flagship they'd explored had been unsalvageable in the end, but they'd still helped progress the overall recovery, right?

Unfortunately, it seemed she'd picked a bad time for actually speaking to the Lieutenant. She wasn't here, that was too bad... Leaving the report on Sarcel's desk, she left.  

[Green Minuet]

melancholies

“Lieu[+]enan[+],

[+]hese Documen[+]s Need [+]o Be Delivered [+]o Her Imperial Condescension Pos[+] Has[+]e. Consider I[+] Your Number One Priori[+]y.

-Cap[+]ain Vidari”

Sitting on top of Sarcel's desk is a sealed folder, about a half an inch thick and heavy. As the note describes, the folder is addressed to none other than Regina Marian.

amicableAggressor

The folder contains a modest scrapbook, showcasing various highlights of the time aboard the ships. Notably in each one, there is a little paper cut out of Regina inserted somewhere in the photograph. Where Vidari found the time to snap photos while warding off swarms of undead is beyond anyone. Attached to the scrapbook is a short note.

“Sorry You Could No[+] Make I[+]. Be[+][+]er Luck Nex[+] [+]ime.”