2010-12-13 - As Gods On Orbital Frames

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "BAHRAM Command, please come in. This is Ascian Luddite - Orbital Frame scout unit."

 Napth Pleminger transmits, "You're coming in clear, Mr. Luddite."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "I am on an Orbital Frame that need a serious hand in repairs. Is there anywhere on Mars that is still unattacked by the Aerogaters - and available for such services?"

 Napth Pleminger transmits, "A number of N.U.T facilities are presently secured and safe for maintenance. I am sending you a list of locations now. The main facility is the most secure for the time being, but our status could change at any time."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "If required, and repairs are completed, I can partake in N.U.T's defense. Coming in to the main facility. Please make preparations. Ascian out."

Upon arrival in Mars Orbit, Bright had 'allowed' for Ascian to disembark from the Argama, using the barely repaired Amanthes. But then, what could one expect from a ship that did not carry the rare material 'Metatron'? A barely aglow Orbital Frame breaks the black and white of space above the skies of Mars, filling it with a slight show of burn as Ascian's unit hits the barely terraformed atmosphere of Mars. It takes little time for him to break through the friction - but his unit has already begun to stall. "Hang in there, Amenthes." The blue haired pilot mutters to his unit, which's arms were barely hanging on by threads of armor plating the Argama Crew had been able to affix to the exoskeleton of the Orbital Frame.

The glow that shows life within these special units flickers now and again, and the responsiveness of the unit clearly suffers due to this. The vid-windows that are displayed within blink now and again, barely visible, showing a marker for where he aims to land...

When he finally gets close to the ravine, the Ender does swallow hard, hoping he can make it. He can see the outcropping that is the landing platform for the N.U.T facility. He drops the output of speed on Amenthes, and looks at all the meters it is displaying. Duat, his A.I. has not been responsive since the 'incident' that ended in Terry's life on board of the Katharon vessel, so he's been manically trying to keep track of everything. It's hard for him. But SOMEHOW he has been managing somewhat. Of course, there are plenty of meters burning in the red, but they are not hampering his controls.

The Amenthes does indeed slow down, and manages to set down with a loud 'CRRRRRRUUUU' sound as its needle-like feet stab into the landing pad and break its material... but remains standing.

Shortly after the Amenthes had come within range of radar, a pair of grey Neith units had been dispatched from the hangars of the base. This was not to intercept the machine, but rather a response to its shoddy condition. If it were to go out of control or start to crash... or IF a battle-in-progress got too near... they would assist in a safe landing or protect it however they could. This precaution proves not necessary however, and when Amenthes makes a safe landing they depart from his company, returning to their own hangars.

Nearby, a shuttered hangar door begins to open. Communications open up again, and Napth Pleminger's voice carries through the transmission, "Please guide your machine into the hangar once the door has opened. This is our operations hangar for orbital frames that have special maintenance requirements."

Within the hangar, there are two machines. The first of them is a familiar unit, the blue Selkis - a fighter design that transforms into a sort of scorpion mode. The other is even more strange. It is black-and-white, and resembles a human restrained with a straightjacket and then further wrapped up in a cocoon.

Both are inactive. A number of technicians can be seen waiting on standby, and small cargo lifts are being used on the upper platform to bring in metatron ore. After a moment, the voice speaks up again over the radio. "Provided that nothing has been damaged in an unusual manner, we should be able to provide sufficient metatron ore for self-repairs to account for any damage. Do you prefer to run your post-repairs diagnostics personally, or shall the technicians here handle it for you?"

Ascian had been surprised somewhat about the large presence of Metatron detected in his sensors when he'd approached N.U.T. But he had not been too surprised about the Neiths; he'd heard about this place before, from his father, a former assistant to Zephyrs. He checks the energy levels on the Amenthes, squeezing his eyes a bit in belated response to the pain of such a 'rough' landing. "Sure. Give me one moment." He mutters painfully. The young man eyes the controls of the inner-cockpit momentum cancelers. They were off. "That'd explain that." He mutters, then gets the unit to slightly lift off and float into the massive complex.

Of course, he cannot help but feast his eyes. And Amenthes... seems to respond to the presence of Hathor and Selkin. For a moment there, Ascian felt something. Like... a jealousy. But not his own. More like... Amenthes was jealous of it. It was a feeling that was hard to describe, especially for a man who still somewhat tries to refuse to believe that his unit has true 'feelings' of any kind. "What is that thing?" He whispers to himself however, before turning his attention back to the hangar itself and guides his unit into one of the Orbital Frame docking clamps. Skillfully, he turns it around and locks it into place - Amenthes' shoulders clamped tight.

Then the radio sounds once more. "Actually. I am unsure. I believe Metatron should allow for a full regeneration, but I think I need someone more skilled than myself to look at what happened to my Artificial Intelligence combat computer, it will not boot up anymore." The BAHRAM framerunner replies through the radio. "I am not sure why it's not loading into her systems." 'her', not 'it'. Clearly, he still personifies the unit. The cockpit finally opens up, and the young man stands up, his body trembling a bit from sheer stress - looking around for any technicians that could help him get out of the unit.

Docking mechanisms whirr and click off to the side, noisily locking into place around Amenthes and securing it there so that the cockpit can be accessed from the forward platform. The other two orbital frames remain inert as a technician approaches with a medic in tow. They are both uniformed, and have the slight look of martians to them. The medic - a woman likely in her mid thirties, black-haired and weary looking - sets a satchel down near the railing to one side of the cockpit and climbs up towards Ascian.

"Do you need a hand getting out?" The medic asks, offering a hand. The technician simply stands by and waits for an opportunity to do his job, looking bored. Of the two he is obviously the younger, and he has something of a ratty, lazy look to him. As if he could go to sleep just standing there.

The voice from the radio makes his appearance a moment later, emerging from a side corridor. The sliding doors hiss as they shut behind him. Napth Pleminger is currently dressed as if prepared to enter battle, and so wears his flight suit rather than the white business attire that he prefers otherwise. This exposes the more... /strange/ elements of his body for opened scrutiny. He comes to a halt within talking distance, but not close enough to help Ascian out personally.

Nearby, a pulse of energy courses through Hathor. It does not seem to stir otherwise, though the bioluminescent "lines" that flow through its armor is visible briefly.

Gazing up at Amenthes appraisingly, the red-haired man asks, "So you say that the artificial intelligence seems to be damaged? How responsive is she normally?"

"Duat, is the name of the A.I. I haven't been able to boot it up at all. She's been having trouble a bit lately..." The blue haired young man accepts the medic's help and staggers out of the cockpit. His legs are trembling. Going from a long period of time in Zero-G to gravity, and then returning to Mars' gravitational pull - even if it is not as high as Earth's - still puts some strain on his body. It will take a bit getting used to. "Thank you." He nods at the woman and patiently works with her to make his way a bit down the forward platform. This moment gives him time to evaluate Napth.

The strange 'features' to the man get noticed, of course, and the man could probably tell that curiousity momentarily crossed his face. But it then returned to an expression of thankfulness. "Duat was never programmed to be a lasting program on Amenthes." Again, not 'the' Amenthes, where-as the A.I. /is/ an 'it'. "I think it is having trouble with the gain in Metatron energy, due to the slow maturization of the machine. It may need replacing or an upgrade of sorts. I can fly without it... but my father always forbid me to fly in her for long without one. Something about madness." He turns his head around for a moment to look at the sad looking machine, barely alive.

Its bioluminescent flow was not natural, and went down a very specific path - evading a gigantic cut on its back, slicing through its spine and cutting off most of those 'connections'. Obviously, a quick temporary 'fix'. "I don't know what he was on about really." Ascian adds. "She's never given me any trouble." He pauses for a moment, then realized that he is rambling. "But I digress. The A.I. became unresponsive after an unauthorized person tried to pilot her, without the A.I. active. Guy ended up dead after she went berserk with him inside..." He pauses for a moment. "Strange death, that one. As for how responsive the A.I. was - fairly? I mean, I don't have a point of reference or comparrison."

"I see." Napth Pleminger replies, his mismatched eyes turning from the orbital frame to its pilot. The younger man is larger than would be expected of an ender of any sort, he observes. The same is true of him, these days, but he's... different. Flexing his mechanical hand a little he turns to look across the upper platforms towards the lift moving the metatron ore towards the gaps in the docking mechanisms which allow for application. His gaze catches the operator's eye, and the technician hastens his pace. The hydraulics hum noisily as they raise the metatron up and push it into place.

After a few moments the metatron will be within distance for the orbital frame to assimilate automatically.

Returning his attention to Ascian, the cyborg nods. "The metatron will be making contact with the frame shortly and automatic repairs should kick in from there. Afterwards we can run more detailed diagnostics. If you wish, your "Duat" may be exported from the frame for any necessary reconfiguration. However, it is possible that her design parameters will not allow her to continue operating as this frame's onboard artificial intelligence, even with reconfiguration."

"If that is the case, then what will be done with her is at your discretion." There is no sinister undertone to this suggestion. Most likely, the A.I. will be transferred for use in another frame if she is of no further use to Ascian. No sense wasting her, after all. Clearing his throat, he moves to stand near the railing. Resting his hands upon it, he looks up towards Amenthes.

"Orbital Frames can be temperamental. However, I assure you that it is perfectly safe to operate an orbital frame without an artificial intelligence installed. With proper acclimation to such operation performance can improve significantly." He pauses, smiling a little and looking over towards the blue orbital frame nearby. "Many people find the experience uncomfortable, however. To each their own, I suppose."

Ascian isn't certain whether to take this man's advice or not. He's always felt that his link with Amenthes is 'stronger' when he isn't hindered by the A.I. being active - and she had saved him at least once by pulling him into her own Vector Trap along with itself. Of course, whether or not that was truly Amenthes was completely up in the air, due to the damage the unit had sustained. It could simply have been a short of sorts.

"I am not sure. I'd like to at least have an A.I. capable of keeping track of Amenthes' more time-consuming settings, like life support and the cockpit momentum cancelation systems." Ascian replies. His legs shake almost as in response to that mere mention. That landing had been painful to say the least. "If possible, at least for now, I'd like to simply reconfigure Duat. But I may take you up on that offer at a later time." He nods his head. "You are welcome to export it to do what needs to be done. I trust your company's abilities on this subject. Although I am uncertain as to whether or not those capabilities carry far enough into subjects such as Project Akert."

"As for its presence or not. I find the malpresence of Duat actually somewhat... better. She feels a lot more comfortable if it is deactivated. But it also puts so much more things into my hands I need to take care of. And I am not trained enough yet to be any use in combat without it." He admits the fact that in certain aspects of Orbital Frames, he is certainly still a rookie. A grin then forms on his face, and doesn't leave either. "But I definitely get what you mean with temperamental." He motions the Nurse and ends up leaning on the same railing and makes his way over to Napth - partially so he can check his own height more accurately with the man. He does throw a glance or two towards Amenthes however, as the Metatron gets closer - and streams of red begin to slowly form between her and the substance...

Then suddenly! As it gets close enough, the thing's eyes flash red, and its wings flare up and push the metatron crystals from their folds. The metal clamps that hold her groan and scream their metalic whines of agony under this sudden stress as the machine almost seems like it is trying to break out. But in reality, most of them machine remains unmoving. Its bioluminscent lines however become quite violent as it absorbs the Metatron at an alarming rate... like a devourer of sorts - almost sucking in the clamp that had been holding it. The red light guides the black substance into its chest, and parts of its body rapidly regenerate. Ascian? He seems not in the least surprised. "They believed that if they compressed and added a much more incredibly quantity of Metatron to her, she would mature more quickly. Seems that also means her appetite has grown." His grin grows a bit manic. "Eat up my dear. Growing kids need their vitamins." It is almost as if he doesn't realize he is saying such creepy things.

"It is, of course, your choice." Napth responds, backing away from the railing and turning to look at Ascian appraisingly, as if for the first time. His expression remains neutral though, so it seems that he doesn't find anything particularly wanting about the young man. If it were his machine, he wouldn't want an external artificial intelligence sullying it... but most people don't think that way these days. But they're wrong.

He knows the truth of the matter, and though few would regard her opinion as relevant for the matter, so does Viola. For a moment he strides away to an empty monitoring station on the opposite side of the platform, seizing a rolling chair from it and dragging it over towards Ascian. He turns it around so that the seat faces the other pilot.

Whether the offer to sit is just that - an offer - or more like a command is not clarified by Napth in any particular way. Drawing nearer to him, Ascian would find that he is (probably) no taller than the cyborg. He is not enormous, but he is certainly above-average in height, especially for a martian. "Nereidum is more capable of adapting to unusual circumstances than you would most likely believe, Mr. Luddite. We have dealt with some exceedingly unusual orbital frames over the years... even Colonel Nohman has seen fit to give us demonstrations, on occasion."

If Ascian should sit, the medic begins to poke and prod at him a little - explaining what she's checking before doing so. Mostly, she checks out his vitals and afterwards asks, "Do you feel alright? Any obvious pains or unusual sensations?" The woman doesn't seem to be particularly concerned, but probably wants to make sure that he didn't experience anything unusual in the cockpit after coming out of a frame that busted up.

For his part, Napth stands with his back to Amenthes, and faces Ascian. "Operating an orbital frame without the artificial intelligence is challenging. When we first developed the orbital frame, the use of artificial intelligence to assist with the interface had not yet been considered. Although the resulting feedback was often initially overwhelming and more challenging than normal, eventually the pilots were able to operate the orbital frame at normal effectiveness."

"Thus, it is often simpler to include an artificial intelligence in the frame, to streamline the process of learning. Those who learn through manual operation..." Napth glances over his shoulder towards Amenthes as it begins to absorb the metatron - violently, even - but does not seem worried by it. "... Learn to automate the functions of the orbital frame in much the same manner as they would breathing, or blinking."

Ascian keeps leaning on the railing as Napth wanders off to that room and grabs that chair, and when he finally puts it in front of him, he does indeed sit down. He believed it to be a command - and being the good soldier he is, and thinking Napth to definitely be above him - he sits down. He watches the doctor check his body, giving her a bored stare. "I was checked by a doctor after the initial damage to Amenthes was done." She would however discover that he was full of blue marks and a cut underneath one of his eyes. However, they seemed to be caused by... punches? When she asks about this, Ascian looks somewhat away. "It will be in my report." He mutters.

When the woman finally does ask how he is feeling in general though, he claims, "I am having some trouble with the gravity right now. I've been in space for a while now, without training my body. And the landing I just had was harsh on my body. But mostly, I am just feeling tired." he waves his hand about as if to dismiss this fact. "Also, I got a bit of metatron poisoning a few weeks back." He turns his head towards Amenthes. "Due to Duat failing to initiate the safety protocols during a sudden wave of Metatron energy through the cockpit, some of it ran through my body." He pauses for a moment, opens his mouth as if he was going to say something else, then decides not to.

Instead, he turns his attention back onto the head of this particular complex. "Interesting. I may actually give that a go. But whilst the alien invasion is in progress still, and battles can break out at any moment, I cannot spare the time for the training that would be required for actual combat operations. Is there any chance you or your company can offer such training though?" He bites the bottom of his lip as his mind completes for him the reason of him wanting to do so... and he is suddenly feeling sorry about asking that question.

Amenthes in the meanwhile has devoured the metatron quantity that had been provided, and its arms and body seemed to be completely as new. And from where Ascian sat, he could tell that its back was finally entirely repaired. The bioluminescent lines finally were flowing properly again, and the 'feathers' of Metatron energy residue hanging from where one would expect its ears to be - much like earrings - were glowing at full glow once again. "It always amazes me just how that stuff just... works. It's almost like magic." The framerunner mutters in amazement. Amenthes finally lets out that electric 'wizz' as a pure flow of red energy goes through her. And in response, that metatron poisoning in Ascian shows - as the lines near his eyes glow for a moment. He however, seems unaware.

The medic spends a few minutes more assessing Ascian's condition, and then moves a few feet away. She packs her things back up into her satchel, and seems to begin filling out the paperwork regarding Ascian. Probably mandatory procedure of some kind.

It is Napth who addresses the matter of metatron poisoning moments later. "If you do not feel strange, then there is nothing to worry about. Short-term exposure is unlikely to cause adverse results, and our research indicates that the effects of long-term exposure may be greatly exaggerated by current thinking." This is only somewhat true. It is not certain exactly /how/ much of Radium's insanity was a result of Idolo and how much of it was simply the circumstances. Most of this information was swept under the rug, and little testing has occurred in the meantime.

Simply put, risking it is just too dangerous for most people to trouble with.

Regarding N.U.T's ability to train somebody to manually operate an orbital frame, the red-haired man nods. "Yes, we are equipped for that. I should warn you that it will be difficult since you have acclimated to A.I.-aided interface rather than manual interface. It will be akin to..." Napth pauses for a moment, to consider. "... Riding a proper bicycle after spending years with training wheels. You will most likely scrape your knees, in other words."

When Ascian comments upon the completion of Amenthes's repairs, Napth turns and looks at the machine again. "Mm. What difference is there between technology and magic, when the technology is this advanced? If you ask me, metatron is magic." Again he turns, this time his expression strange... unsettling, but not altogether unnatural. "And with orbital frames, men become gods."

A split second later he seems to calm, inhaling deeply and leaning up against the railing. "I apologize... I have not introduced myself. I am Napth Pleminger, President of Nereidum Universal Technologies. It has been nice meeting you, Mr. Luddite."

The comment on the effects on the metatron poisoning is ignored. Instead, that grin grows onto Mr. Luddite's face once more, as Napth talks about themselves being as gods. "Gods huh?" He asks. "You speak as if you have experience in the matter." Perhaps it was that unsettling look he'd noticed on the redhead's face. However, he doesn't comment on this further, nor does he push the subject. He knew what he'd heard from his father. That the head of the N.U.T company refused to testpilot any Orbital Frames. "Ascian Luddite - son to Palter Luddite, former testsubject of Dezeele Zephyrs. It is a pleasure to meet you too, Pleminger, sir."

With the medic lady now doing her own thing, he grabs for the railing once more to assist himself in getting up. "I know that feeling though. I deal with it often - coming from space, floating around with ease, then suddenly being pulled down by gravity, and having to learn how to walk each time again. Yet each time, I prevail in doing so. I've flown a darn Valkyrie... horrible pieces of equipment. So weak and slow to react - so boring. So... not magical."

He then continues to comment on his ability to pilot an Orbital Frame without an A.I. "I believe that if I put my mind to it, I /can/ control Amenthes without Duat. No. I /will/." Apparently, Napth's words were enough for him to concider them a 'challenge' of sorts. If anything... maybe he could serve as that insanity test rat.

"Surely you can see that I have." Napth replies, raising his mechanical arm to display it fully. His flightsuit doesn't conceal it at all, so it has been plainly obvious since he arrived here. Bioluminscent lines run across its surface at the red-haired man's prompting, dispersing around his fingertips. He lowers the arm again, and looks sidelong towards the nearby Hathor. Physically, the color scheme of his arm is very similar, if not identical. The traces of energy are also identical to those that Hathor itself displayed earlier. He clenches his hand around the railing.

With a faint sigh he says, "It has been some time since I first involved myself in this business. It is only natural that I would be familiar with the materials, even if I am not a true researcher. I was originally more familiar with LEV technology, but I have grown fond of orbital frames. I only rarely pilot them, to tell you the truth... my wife doesn't like it very much when I do, you see."

"That one over there," He indicates the Selkis nearby. "Is my daughter's... and the two that escorted you in were my sons. They're about your age." When Ascian rises to what he perceived to be a challenge, Napth simply looks a little amused. "I am certain that you will be able to acclimate to manual control. You have a certain quality to you that most orbital frame pilots do not. Still... you are correct. Now is not the time to be practicing such things."

He looks up, as if through the ceiling. "There's so little time to be wasted."

Ascian nodded in reply to Napth pointing out how obvious it is that he used to be a pilot. "I try not to make assumptions. I've seen a lot of kids die of Metatron poisoning..." It isn't too unobvious that this claim is pulling on his feelings, something he truly did experience himself. "There's plenty of things I see in you that I saw in those kids. Some of them went mad, most of them simply died." He is refering to the man's arm, as well as the bioluminescence that is sent through his body. "In fact, I'm somewhat amazed you are still alive with that much stuff going through your body." The young man peers at Napth's hands as he clings to that railing, and continues to observe his whole being - reading off his emotional cues with fair ease. Yet, he doesn't comment on most of them, believing it to be rude to do otherwise.

"I see. Worry for your self being, or is it more of a jealousy issue?" It is perhaps a strange assumption to make, that last one. He turns about and leans on the railing by leaning against it with his back and supporting himself with his elbows. "When Project Akert first started, she'd always get jealous of me getting to test pilot her Mayet - where-as she didn't get to pilot Amenthes in return. He then turns his head as the man continues to point things out, laying his gaze onto the blue unit.

"It looks rather interesting. Kind of makes me want to try out against your daughter. No offense, of course. I just have this habbit of liking to prove myself." The young man states on that subject. "Neiths however do not interest me. Not unless 'she' is the pilot." He knew of Viola? But then something catches his ear. He has a certain quality that most Orbital Frame pilots don't have? "What's that?" He asks in hesitant reply, feeling a warm feeling in his chest. It was rare that he received any kind of praise from superiors in the Divine Crusaders after all.

But, not wanting to raise notice to this fact, or the slight jolt in the start of that sentence, he throws his head back and stairs at that same ceiling. "You've got that right. Last I heard though, things seem to be turning around. Soon, it will be just us against the rest again. And finally I can stop working hand-in-hand with the DAMN EFA!" His voice grew angry at that last part. "Damn bastards. I'll make them pay for their humiliation... oh... I'll make them pay." And as he says this he raises a small device from his pocket. A black unit with a radio transmitter on it with a single dial and a locked button. He stares at it for a moment, grinning. "When the time is right." A remote detonator switch.

"It has never been an issue for me." Napth says, flexing his mechanical hand again around the metal railing. The clicking noises are audible, and a little strange-sounding. The limb seems just as articulate as a regular human hand would be though, and there's no real lag in response time. It's no real wonder though, given the way that metatron machines can work, that prosthetics would work just as well. It seems that the idea of metatron poisoning neither frightens nor concerns the man. Certainly, he wouldn't have it incorporated into his body if he thought that it would kill him. Or maybe it was that he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Compared to others who have suffered exposure... -especially- Colonel Nohman... Napth has turned out remarkably fortunate, however. It seems to have had the opposite effect on him that it had on the Colonel, keeping him physically young. The only change, really, is in his hair and physical stature. Neither were particularly a problem, or even all that radical.

For a little while he is silent, staring up at the ceiling blankly. Perhaps it was the inquiry regarding his wife that spaced him out, but he eventually snaps out of it. "My daughter is much the same. When things are calmer, perhaps I will arrange a test match between Amenthes and Selkis. For the moment however, I believe that it is best for both of you to be ready to defend yourselves, and Mars. It would be unfortunate if your units were damaged in such a test session just before an incursion."

"Who is... 'she', exactly? I do not know of many who make the Neith their signature unit any more... most of our aces are able to afford a better model of orbital frame. Ms. Guines in particular utilizes a custom-designed machine in a similar style, however." It seems that Napth is glossing over certain questions, or his attention is simply lapsing at convenient moments. It is difficult to tell which. The outburst regarding the EFA gets a mixed expression out of the cyborg. He looks troubled for a moment - perhaps angry - but hides it quickly thereafter.

"A bomb, or... some other device?" He asks, simply.

"Ah. Sorry. Right." Ascian turns his head so that he is once again properly facing Napth. "She. I never saw her face. But Colonel Nohman sent a unit in to test the capabilities of Amenthes and Mayet, and its pilots against this red Neith unit. A woman was flying it. Really fiesty. It took both of us to take her down - but we managed somehow." His sister had, in fact, been the one to deal the strike that got the Viola AI to back off and call the test 'over'. "Very well balanced piloting skill. But... something seemed off about her. Either way, her ability at flying that thing was amazing." He smirks as he says this. "God, I wish I could battle her again now. And if your daughter is indeed something like me - she would probably due to fight her too. I think her name was... Viola?" He asks this, as if he isn't too sure, but his memory proves to be impecable on this subject.

"But you are right. A test battle would be just as foolish right now as flying the Amenthes without an A.I. to aid me." He throws the unit a quick glance, as technicians work on retrieving the A.I. from it to get it battle ready. "If only BAHRAM command gave me the unlock code for the Vector Cannon. I'd blow those damn aliens right out of this universe." He speaks of it as if he knew of its exact power. Like he'd figured it before.

The subject then skips back to that remote, which he pockets away again. "Bomb. Or rather, multiple ones. I planted a series of remote detonation devices on the ship called the 'Argama', one of Katharon's flagships. At any time, I can press this baby. And as long as I am within five kilometers from it - that ship will suffer some /serious/ structural damage. Probably wipe out a good chunk of their crew too." He grins madly as he speaks of this. "That's what I am going to be filing my report on. I was held there for several weeks. Humiliated..."

"Viola Guines." Napth offers a nod of confirmation. He thinks back to their last meeting. It was during a psychological evaluation following the Deimos Incident and the supposed "death" of the original Viola. This was not how he looked at it when they were re-introduced however. "She and I go a very long way back. We've known eachother since... oh..." His mind drifts back to the days after his enlistment, when she had tried to attack him in an alleyway.

"... Well. It has been a long time, hasn't it. We haven't been in contact for a while. She is a good pilot though, and a good person to have watching your back as long as you haven't made her angry." He smiles faintly, pushing away from the railing and moving to stand in the middle of the platform. His demeanor has changed subtley, but notably.

There's a bit more sincerity. It might just be that he's the cold sort of person most of the time, but the change is certainly odd.

"Don't make her angry." He advises, simply.

The remark on the Vector Cannon gets a curious little look out of Napth. But the only thing that he has to say on the matter... /or/ on the subject of the bombs planted aboard the Argama is, "Give them all what they deserve, Mr. Luddite. In the meantime, I recommend that you get some rest. I will send one of my aides down to see you to some temporary quarters while the A.I. exportation and update are being performed. Your military I.D. and the clearance laid out within it will allow you access to the appropriate areas of the base."

"In the meantime, I have security matters to return to. We will, I am sure, meet again." With that, Napth Pleminger turns and begins to leave. Halfway down the upper level he pauses near the white Orbital Frame, and looks at it.

The Orbital Frame looks back.

Then he continues, and Hathor goes inert again.

"Heh. Make her angry huh? I should try that." Ascian mutters. "I presume that means, after all, that she was not going full out. That makes me feel somewhat bad. Although..." His smile disappears a bit. "She didn't really seem like she was quite... normal. Not sure. Not loopy. Just... I don't know. I can't put my finger on it." The young man raises his hand up to his head and runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it - springing a few pearls of sweat up. The inside of the Amenthes' cockpit had been hot. "Either way, I'll give those bastards what they deserve. But first..."

"But first... I should hit the sack." Ascian stiffens a yawn and takes a step away from the railing. His legs shake for a moment. The Medic of course offers help, but the man refuses. "It will only go slower if I don't do this on my own." He notes and then follows Napth off of the platform towards the side exit. Of course, when that man turns to meet Hathor's eyes... he notices the response. He smiles. "You too huh?" He whispers. Finally... someone like himself.