[So. In retrospect, maybe she should have expected this would happen. She had very generously left her mark with nothing more than a hangover, so it was only a matter of time before he woke up sans a ship and sans a uniform (though Zam, in her munificence, did leave him with her Moira uniform and cocktail dress, thank you PAC-disc). Anyway, she thinks, even if she is currently in a ship’s hold, still in disguise, with two very unsettled guards in the adjacent corridor, they had seemed to take her request to see their admiral seriously. Which means, technically speaking, that this entire thing has a good chance of being a success. She’ll let Miles and Bel know it’s really her (on the off-chance they haven’t already figured it out), they can come up with some excuse to tell their crew, and she’ll be home free. A new life in a new universe, just like she wanted.
If only Bel and Miles would hurry up. She taps her foot anxiously against the cell floor, trying to shake off inexplicable nervousness. She's never liked being confined.]
[ miles's year on the moira really broadened his horizons when it came to possible explanations for mind-bending problems, but few of them were applicable here. then again...
he has a few theories, but mostly he's got a few hopes. he knows exactly whose style this looks like, and the odds are -- well, he doesn't know what the fuck the odds are of anything anymore when the ingress is concerned -- but if he's right, then it's perfect. it'd be perfect. and it might help bel.
he tags bel on his way, nearly body checking them in the corridor on the deck above the hold. breathless, eyes bright, he gives their uniform sleeve a tug as he hurtles past. ]
Miles, whoa! [you can body-check Bel any day, Admiral.<3 loops an arm around him purely so he doesn't hit the wall too -- nah, who're we fooling but the rest of the crew who need visible professionalism from their higher-ups, that was definitely a sneakhug. but that brightness is contagious, and Bel stows the suit-check list they were working on and jogs along beside him.]
Coming, coming -- what's the rush? Surely Danio hasn't slept it all off yet. Did he accidentally steal the crown jewels before we broke orbit too?
[too bad for him, if it's something like that. he's not quite the null-wit who burned that London liquor store down anymore, but a worse misdemeanor than a reported portside brawl would put his future with the fleet in question. again.]
[ miles shakes his head as he plows down the hall, knowing bel won't have any trouble keeping up. ]
No -- funny story, we actually left Danio behind -- honest mistake, I told Nav & Com to double back -- no, this is much more interesting. [ he turns his head briefly to flash that smile at bel. ] I swear it'll make sense when we get down there.
What. [and there goes an entirely different kind of adrenal spike, right there with the changing hum of the engine as the ship shifts course. trusting the night crew to know who they'd stowed in the hold isn't supposed to be a hit-or-miss proposition. did they check in a ringer? dear lord, not another clone.... and why would it tickle Miles's humor like this?
what do you know that I don't?
there's no time for more than a sharp glance at that ingenuous grin as they reach the holding cell. it's Danio there behind the forcefield, to the life, right down to the rumpled fleet grey-and-whites. but the two privates guarding him seem... unduly nervous about him. Miles must have filled them in from Nav and Comm before running down to fetch Bel; if anyone had noticed anything screwy beforehand, it would have been reported. but it hadn't. what is this?]
[ miles isn't too worried about bel's confusion. it'll clear up very shortly, he's convinced of it. there's no way this won't jog bel's memory some.
yeah, there's danio alright. miles waves away the guards -- captain thorne and i can handle this, thank you -- and then gives the captive a good long look, his mouth tilted ironically. ]
You know, you could've just come up and asked for me. We were docked at Ausland for five days. And did you have to abandon one of my crew? We actually have to go back for the guy. [ his face breaks into a proper grin. ] Come on, shed that ridiculous disguise already. It's just us in here.
[seriously, what. okay, whatever's going on, Miles has a handle on it, but Bel, falling into parade rest just behind his shoulder, isn't thrilled to have an apparent clone mole in the crew take them by surprise. and what does Miles expect him to do in there, rip off his skin? some people can do wonders with prosthetics and attitude, but this is ridiculous.
holding a steady, flat gaze on the prisoner, Bel waits to see what kind of miraculous revelation could possibly clear this up.]
[Finally. It takes a whole lot of willpower not to break into a grin as soon as she sees them, but Zam manages to hold off until Miles has dismissed the guards. Once he does, she favors them both with a smile a touch too quick and keen to look at home on the face of their crewman.]
Y’see, I thought about that – and then your man happened to waltz into the bar in full uniform and I couldn’t help myself. [Her voice matches Danio’s in pitch and timbre and yet is totally different in cadence, mannerism, and accent – vocal imitation has never really been Zam’s strong suit.] When was I going to get another opportunity like that?
[Her gaze flickers to Bel, a mischievous smirk on her lips – only to find no trace of recognition in her friend’s expression. That’s… strange. Either Bel is pulling the best poker face of all time, or they haven’t quite gotten the joke yet. And Zam had always thought they tended to be pretty quick on the uptake. Uncertainty flashes across her features before she looks back at Miles, smiling again at his request.]
I thought you’d never ask, [she says, batting her eyelashes in a way she knows must look ridiculous in her current form. Then, she closes her eyes, takes a breath, and changes. Flesh and bone become as malleable as clay, Danio’s features slipping away in a matter of seconds. The flurry of changes is rapid, certainly too quick to follow individually, and yet the result is a completely different person now sitting in the cell. Zam opens blue eyes, which dart quickly to Bel.]
I think that should clear some things up, [she says, her expression expectant as she awaits her friend’s reaction.]
[to be fair, Bel's poker face is extremely good. even if it is sorely tested at the first word off the prisoner's lips, because that is decidedly not Private Danio. the brief uncertain glance at Bel is a little closer to form, but the rest is viscerally different.
a spark runs up Bel's spine. for no reason. no conscious reason at all.
and then, Danio melts into someone else.
....the word Bel uses is not in the Dendarii regs.
the pieces that do make sense are easy to place. it's just Danio's luck to get rolled on leave, and wondering whether he woke up with any clothes had been good for a moment's amusement. but this is obviously some newly released bit of recreational R&D, modded for espionage; a power pack hidden under the uniform, maybe a preprogrammable holographic skin -- no, that never works -- nanites? but even the eyes -- and this is a test run, and the result incapacitates Bel's crewman and waltzes right onto Bel's ship, and would be home free if Danio hadn't made a completely different poor life choice shortly before running into whoever this is.....
slightly breathless] Well. That's something. [a slight nod to Miles] I see why you wanted me down here.
[tech like this will rewrite the tactical manual forever; the security briefing alone is going to be a nightmare. WOW.]
I ought to take the fuel costs out of your first paycheck.
[ miles is grinning, ecstatic, really, because this is great -- this is perfect. admittedly, it is...always so weird to watch zam shapeshift, but he's relieved when he finally sees a familiar face that isn't danio's. he lets out a short, exhilarated laugh and hits the panel on the wall to bring down the force screen on zam's cell. ]
Zam Wesell, how the hell are you? [ he's kind of giddy over it, really. he extends a hand to zam -- to shake, pull her out of the cell, whatever. he glances over excitedly at bel, beaming. ] Hey, does this jog your memory at all? It's Zam -- you remember Zam? We met her on the Moira. I hired her for the Dendarii. Pretty sure we're the only mercenary fleet out there with a shapeshifter in our ranks.
[ he looks so pleased with himself. this is excellent. bel's going to remember at least a little. maybe with both him and zam here it'll bring it all back to the surface. and man, he's got some questions for zam, too. ]
Just think of it as payback for skipping out on us early, [Zam takes that hand and uses it to pull Miles into a full-on hug. Did he really think she was going to settle for a kriffing handshake?] You couldn’t have at least warned us before you went Ingress-diving?
[As for Bel, their reaction is… less enthusiastic than Zam had hoped for. She pulls away from Miles, looking at Bel with a quizzical expression that only deepens when Miles starts talking as if he has to reintroduce them.]
What? Of course Bel remembers me. [She glances between them with a puzzled smile as if waiting for one of them to explain the joke.] I saw them, what, last week? [Her eyes settle on Bel, searching for some sign of what's going on. She can still remember the rush of emotion when they had realized they'd made it through the Ingress in one piece–and everything that came after.] It wasn’t really something you’d forget overnight.
tenses as Miles is hauled forward -- between patchy memories of sudden loss and the relationship they're building now, Bel is fully aware that the urge to pull him back and body-check the stranger in the face is not entirely justified by the facts. the urge to shake him until an explanation falls out is rather more familiar, but Bel manages to heroically subdue that temptation (for now).
it all emerges in a rush, Miles beaming and the... new recruit-trainee?... seeming expectant? hopeful? surprised not to be recognized after whatever the hell that body-morph had been, flesh running liquid over impossibly melting bones -- hackle-raising if real. the last recruit-trainee Miles had surprised Bel with had been just as much of a shock; this one could probably have claws too, if she felt like it. the urge to shake him does not subside.
the name, though. that name.....
it's not memory but a hot bolt of knowing, highlighting the stranger in vividly active color. the smile, the cant of her head -- nothing about her is familiar. but it should be. it's right there, and it's just out of reach, and it's maddening.
better to underplay it, probably. better than offering false hope.]
Nothing comes to mind. [lips press together, a tight, fleeting expression before focusing on Zam. if this is legit, she deserves more than being sprung on Bel like a neurotherapy flashcard.] The Ingress saw fit to bury my memories before dropping me back on my ship. They've been... difficult to dig back up.
[a glance at Miles] Maybe we should take this to the tac room. [better than the corridors, for business such as this.]
[ miles doesn't resist the hug at all, even laughing, but he does a slight take at last week -- is that possible? he'd only just arrived at ausland a day or so ago himself, so... but why would bel remember then, there, but not now? had bel come and...gone back again? what? his hands freeze mid-air, listening to bel's halting response. this can't be any easier for them than it is for zam and...miles swears he catches some flicker in her there. he nods at bel's suggestion -- good one, bless them -- and jerks his chin at zam, waving her along. ]
C'mon, it's just the next deck up. [ he falls into step next to zam, buzzing with curiosity. ] So where were you coming from, anyway?
[Zam stares at Bel, brow knitting in confusion.] That doesn’t make sense, [she protests, but then they’re moving out of the brig and Miles is asking questions. She looks between him and Bel as if searching for something they’re not telling her.]
I… we came here from the Midway Hub. Got spit out somewhere you called Escobar. [She looks at Bel when she says it, expression still at a loss.] You did remember. You still should. [One week shouldn’t make this much of a difference. After all, Zam and Miles had clearly retained their own memories.]
You didn't sustain any head trauma in the last week, did you?
Tell me what does make sense. [a thin, ironic smile, falling in as they move up the corridor, glancing at Zam over Miles's head. the bewildered protests of recognition could be an act, but something in Bel doesn't think so. not this time. there were probably other times...? but not this time.]
That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?
[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]
Did I? [i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.
[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.
[ miles shoots a confused look between the two of them. okay, he's feeling a little less jolly about this reunion, but -- no, dammit, bel will remember. they just need a little time. they've already started to remember some things. ]
Escobar? You were on Escobar a week ago? [ that...shouldn't be possible, considering how long they've been at ausland. his brow furrows. ] It must be some Ingress horseshit. It never makes any damned sense, and I think it's got a very suspect sense of humor.
I recognized his uniform. Seemed like the most surefire way of getting close to you two.
[She'd succeeded, though this is far from the reunion she'd envisioned. Given the circumstances, she isn’t expecting Bel to suddenly close the distance between them. A flurry of emotions flashes across Zam’s face at Bel’s touch—hope, desire, apprehension—only to shutter to disappointment when nothing changes in her (former?) friend’s gaze.
She steps back from Bel and turns to Miles, giving a huff of unhappy laughter at his words.] I always suspected that karking machine had it in for me. [Zam could almost mistake it for deliberate cruelty, the way it had given her a few elated moments with Bel before ripping them—and their memories—away. Maybe it was.
She looks back at Bel, still hovering at the edge of her space.]
Miles must’ve told you about the Moira. Does any of it sound familiar at all?
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If only Bel and Miles would hurry up. She taps her foot anxiously against the cell floor, trying to shake off inexplicable nervousness. She's never liked being confined.]
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he has a few theories, but mostly he's got a few hopes. he knows exactly whose style this looks like, and the odds are -- well, he doesn't know what the fuck the odds are of anything anymore when the ingress is concerned -- but if he's right, then it's perfect. it'd be perfect. and it might help bel.
he tags bel on his way, nearly body checking them in the corridor on the deck above the hold. breathless, eyes bright, he gives their uniform sleeve a tug as he hurtles past. ]
Bel! I need you down in the hold with me, c'mon!
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Coming, coming -- what's the rush? Surely Danio hasn't slept it all off yet. Did he accidentally steal the crown jewels before we broke orbit too?
[too bad for him, if it's something like that. he's not quite the null-wit who burned that London liquor store down anymore, but a worse misdemeanor than a reported portside brawl would put his future with the fleet in question.
again.]no subject
No -- funny story, we actually left Danio behind -- honest mistake, I told Nav & Com to double back -- no, this is much more interesting. [ he turns his head briefly to flash that smile at bel. ] I swear it'll make sense when we get down there.
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dear lord, not another clone....and why would it tickle Miles's humor like this?what do you know that I don't?
there's no time for more than a sharp glance at that ingenuous grin as they reach the holding cell. it's Danio there behind the forcefield, to the life, right down to the rumpled fleet grey-and-whites. but the two privates guarding him seem... unduly nervous about him. Miles must have filled them in from Nav and Comm before running down to fetch Bel; if anyone had noticed anything screwy beforehand, it would have been reported. but it hadn't. what is this?]
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yeah, there's danio alright. miles waves away the guards -- captain thorne and i can handle this, thank you -- and then gives the captive a good long look, his mouth tilted ironically. ]
You know, you could've just come up and asked for me. We were docked at Ausland for five days. And did you have to abandon one of my crew? We actually have to go back for the guy. [ his face breaks into a proper grin. ] Come on, shed that ridiculous disguise already. It's just us in here.
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clonemole in the crew take them by surprise. and what does Miles expect him to do in there, rip off his skin? some people can do wonders with prosthetics and attitude, but this is ridiculous.holding a steady, flat gaze on the prisoner, Bel waits to see what kind of miraculous revelation could possibly clear this up.]
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Y’see, I thought about that – and then your man happened to waltz into the bar in full uniform and I couldn’t help myself. [Her voice matches Danio’s in pitch and timbre and yet is totally different in cadence, mannerism, and accent – vocal imitation has never really been Zam’s strong suit.] When was I going to get another opportunity like that?
[Her gaze flickers to Bel, a mischievous smirk on her lips – only to find no trace of recognition in her friend’s expression. That’s… strange. Either Bel is pulling the best poker face of all time, or they haven’t quite gotten the joke yet. And Zam had always thought they tended to be pretty quick on the uptake. Uncertainty flashes across her features before she looks back at Miles, smiling again at his request.]
I thought you’d never ask, [she says, batting her eyelashes in a way she knows must look ridiculous in her current form. Then, she closes her eyes, takes a breath, and changes. Flesh and bone become as malleable as clay, Danio’s features slipping away in a matter of seconds. The flurry of changes is rapid, certainly too quick to follow individually, and yet the result is a completely different person now sitting in the cell. Zam opens blue eyes, which dart quickly to Bel.]
I think that should clear some things up, [she says, her expression expectant as she awaits her friend’s reaction.]
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a spark runs up Bel's spine. for no reason. no conscious reason at all.
and then, Danio melts into someone else.
....the word Bel uses is not in the Dendarii regs.
the pieces that do make sense are easy to place. it's just Danio's luck to get rolled on leave, and wondering whether he woke up with any clothes had been good for a moment's amusement. but this is obviously some newly released bit of recreational R&D, modded for espionage; a power pack hidden under the uniform, maybe a preprogrammable holographic skin -- no, that never works -- nanites? but even the eyes -- and this is a test run, and the result incapacitates Bel's crewman and waltzes right onto Bel's ship, and would be home free if Danio hadn't made a completely different poor life choice shortly before running into whoever this is.....
slightly breathless] Well. That's something. [a slight nod to Miles] I see why you wanted me down here.
[tech like this will rewrite the tactical manual forever; the security briefing alone is going to be a nightmare. WOW.]
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[ miles is grinning, ecstatic, really, because this is great -- this is perfect. admittedly, it is...always so weird to watch zam shapeshift, but he's relieved when he finally sees a familiar face that isn't danio's. he lets out a short, exhilarated laugh and hits the panel on the wall to bring down the force screen on zam's cell. ]
Zam Wesell, how the hell are you? [ he's kind of giddy over it, really. he extends a hand to zam -- to shake, pull her out of the cell, whatever. he glances over excitedly at bel, beaming. ] Hey, does this jog your memory at all? It's Zam -- you remember Zam? We met her on the Moira. I hired her for the Dendarii. Pretty sure we're the only mercenary fleet out there with a shapeshifter in our ranks.
[ he looks so pleased with himself. this is excellent. bel's going to remember at least a little. maybe with both him and zam here it'll bring it all back to the surface. and man, he's got some questions for zam, too. ]
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[As for Bel, their reaction is… less enthusiastic than Zam had hoped for. She pulls away from Miles, looking at Bel with a quizzical expression that only deepens when Miles starts talking as if he has to reintroduce them.]
What? Of course Bel remembers me. [She glances between them with a puzzled smile as if waiting for one of them to explain the joke.] I saw them, what, last week? [Her eyes settle on Bel, searching for some sign of what's going on. She can still remember the rush of emotion when they had realized they'd made it through the Ingress in one piece–and everything that came after.] It wasn’t really something you’d forget overnight.
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tenses as Miles is hauled forward -- between patchy memories of sudden loss and the relationship they're building now, Bel is fully aware that the urge to pull him back and body-check the stranger in the face is not entirely justified by the facts. the urge to shake him until an explanation falls out is rather more familiar, but Bel manages to heroically subdue that temptation (for now).
it all emerges in a rush, Miles beaming and the... new recruit-trainee?... seeming expectant? hopeful? surprised not to be recognized after whatever the hell that body-morph had been, flesh running liquid over impossibly melting bones -- hackle-raising if real. the last recruit-trainee Miles had surprised Bel with had been just as much of a shock; this one could probably have claws too, if she felt like it. the urge to shake him does not subside.
the name, though. that name.....
it's not memory but a hot bolt of knowing, highlighting the stranger in vividly active color. the smile, the cant of her head -- nothing about her is familiar. but it should be. it's right there, and it's just out of reach, and it's maddening.
better to underplay it, probably. better than offering false hope.]
Nothing comes to mind. [lips press together, a tight, fleeting expression before focusing on Zam. if this is legit, she deserves more than being sprung on Bel like a neurotherapy flashcard.] The Ingress saw fit to bury my memories before dropping me back on my ship. They've been... difficult to dig back up.
[a glance at Miles] Maybe we should take this to the tac room. [better than the corridors, for business such as this.]
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C'mon, it's just the next deck up. [ he falls into step next to zam, buzzing with curiosity. ] So where were you coming from, anyway?
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I… we came here from the Midway Hub. Got spit out somewhere you called Escobar. [She looks at Bel when she says it, expression still at a loss.] You did remember. You still should. [One week shouldn’t make this much of a difference. After all, Zam and Miles had clearly retained their own memories.]
You didn't sustain any head trauma in the last week, did you?
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That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?
[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]
Did I? [
i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.
softly] Odds are I'm just unlucky.
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Escobar? You were on Escobar a week ago? [ that...shouldn't be possible, considering how long they've been at ausland. his brow furrows. ] It must be some Ingress horseshit. It never makes any damned sense, and I think it's got a very suspect sense of humor.
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[She'd succeeded, though this is far from the reunion she'd envisioned. Given the circumstances, she isn’t expecting Bel to suddenly close the distance between them. A flurry of emotions flashes across Zam’s face at Bel’s touch—hope, desire, apprehension—only to shutter to disappointment when nothing changes in her (former?) friend’s gaze.
She steps back from Bel and turns to Miles, giving a huff of unhappy laughter at his words.] I always suspected that karking machine had it in for me. [Zam could almost mistake it for deliberate cruelty, the way it had given her a few elated moments with Bel before ripping them—and their memories—away. Maybe it was.
She looks back at Bel, still hovering at the edge of her space.]
Miles must’ve told you about the Moira. Does any of it sound familiar at all?