2010-11-27 - Argama Holding - Ascian Luddite

Staren had been the one to dump Ascian into the brig. The young man, after being removed from the Orbital Frame, had not struggled against the imprisonment. Stripped of the Normal Suit, the BAHRAM framerunner is relaxing in the room. Of course, being taken by the EFA isn't something he is happy about... but his mind is elsewhere. During the last battle, the Amenthes had been severely harmed, and Duat had been seriously acting up. So, using a small crayon he'd found nearby - the youth is drawing up a basic schematic of the Amenthes - marking where it had been harmed... to see if he could figure out how to fix it at a later time.

The room lighting seemed to flicker for a very small interval, and yet nothing else seemed to happen. The sounds of the Argama continued on as normal as Ascian continued his hard work on figuring out a proper course of repair for his machine. The framerunner, relaxed and settled down as he was, would soon find that the world he was in was most definitely not what he thought it was. The ground started to rumble, and then the air around him would grow hazy as Ascian most likely looked up in startlement. What he would see was no longer the brig...

The surrounding area near Ascian was a nice meadow, one that seemed quite average and ordinary to anyone. Running across the meadow in the far off distance was his Orbital Frame, Duat's voice clearly ringing out from it in a light melody of song. Some unrecognizable tune that almost seemed alien to Ascian. Nearby some other well known and more pronounced members of the Divine Crusaders were gathered around a campfire, roasting marshmellows while trading war stories to one another.

Numerous Divine Crusader soldiers could be seen walking around and chatting, and as one group came over toward the direction of Ascian and his doodling one of the soldiers detached himself from the group and walked over. "Hey there," a calm simple sounding voice rang out, as a man with white hair and silver eyes wearing some generic Divine Crusader gear knelt down near him. "Whatcha working on?"

Tack-tack-tack... tack. The sound of the chalk tapping against what he'd once experienced to be 'walls' suddenly has shifted into the form of a rock. The young man blinks a few times and raises a hand to his chest - checking if he is still alive. "What in the..." His hand clutches into a fist, and slowly he rises up from his previously kneeled position. Slowly he lets his gaze scan the new environment he has found himself in. Something about it felt familiar. Almost like what he had experienced when Setsuna had activated Exia's TRANS-AM burst. He shifts his head to the right - almost expecting to find the feminine and flaming form of the Amenthes. But no, she wasn't there.

Instead, when he inspected the meadow more properly, he finds the Orbital Frame running in the far off distance singing something he simply did not recognize. "What the..." From his chest, his fingers lead up to his forehead, and he presses his head against the digits. "I must be going truly mad now." It is when he says this that he's turned about enough to notice the Divine Crusader soldiers. He didn't recognize any of them, possibly because he rarely took note of them at the base. Or did he recognize them? His head was hurting slightly in response to what was happening to him. This only grows more heavy when the white haired man comes up and talks to him. Ascian's fingers gently move through his own blue hair as he focusses his eyes on the man and turns his focus down to his chest to see if he had a nameplate of sorts - or any kind of markings of rank. "Going mad." Is his respose.

Ascian's garbed in what he was while held within the prison, for reasons that only Rem knew why. Blacknight continued to stay knelt near Ascian as he admitted to feeling a bit insane, perhaps due to the drastic change in the environment, yet the smile on his face never wavered. "Mad? That's crazy! How could you be going mad after you single-handedly defeated the EFA?" Rem asked of Ascian, before he laughed lightly and extended his hand. "Officer Regent, at your service sir, I'm honored to finally meet you after hearing about your exploits during the Great War!"

He? He had defeated the EFA single-handedly? Sure, this caused a spark of pride to be hit within the man's heart. Especially as a man is now extending a hand towards him in such a respecting manner. Mad or not - dream or not - Ascian shows a small smile. "My dreams are rarely this vivid." He mutters. "Or whatever this is." He readily shakes Regent's hand. "Well to meet you Officer Regent. But I find it hard to believe that someone as lowly as me could possibly perform such a task. So either I am truly mad, or I've got a serious case of Post War Stress." He lets go then and turns his back towards the fellow Divine Crusader and lays his gaze upon the running figure of Amenthes in the distance. "It is impossible for the Amenthes to move that freely with Duat still incorporated within her." He mutters to himself, then stares at the roc again... almost expecting the diagrams and figures to have magically disappeared too.

The diagrams and figures remained, almost as if to tell Ascian that the world around him was real and that he should accept it. Off in the distance Dr. Hell could be seen pulling out a picnic basket and putting out some food for everyone to eat on a wooden table that had not been there two seconds before. The next time that Ascian looked up Officer Regent, or rather Rem Blacknight, had already stood up and looked off in the distance. "Nothing is impossible for you, you gave it total freedom a few years ago," Officer Regent informed Ascian, before looking down to the confused man and smiling again.

"By the way, why are you doodling on that rock?" Regent asked of Luddite, as he nodded his head at the diagrams with a slight perplexed look on his face.

If he was to take things as they were... was he really a hero? Why could he not remember any of it? And what was with this strange feeling... had he turned into a NewType? He turns his eyes towards Regent... then Dr. Hell in the distance. This was all too bizare. And he couldn't read their thoughts. No, this was not him suddenly shifting to be a NewType. It was not the same as when he had been under the effects of TRANS-AM. He smacks his hand against his cheek a few time. Pain. This wasn't a dream?

"Ah. Well... last I remember, I was on the Argama in the brig - after a defeat by one of the aliens. The Amenthes is seriously damaged - and Duat is having severe problems. I suspect that she is Maturing slowly, and that Duat cannot handle the new parameters." He steps back to the rock and crouches down before he taps the chalk against a part on the unit's spine. "She was struck here, cutting off a lot of the cockpit's controls from the sensors as well." Again a pause. He looks around once more... and shakes his head. Dr. Hell sharing food? Rediculous. "What did you mean with 'nothing is impossible for me?"

"Well after you got bored of waiting for people to rescue you, you mounted a self-handled rescue of yourself from the Argama about six years ago, then you took over the Crusaders," Regent commented, as he ticked off things on his fingers one after another. "After that you rallied most of the forces of the world against the Balmarians, kicked them to the curb and incorporated some of their technology into the Amenthes. After that you manhandled most of the known groups of the world one after another, before finally smacking down the EFA."

"So most of us new recruits consider you incapable of doing anything if you set your mind to it, sir."

So rediculous. But he could find no signs of this being an actual dream. Things were just so strange. He looks around - but finds no mirror to look at himself. Ascian raises his hands up to look at his skin. Had he grown older? "What about 'her'? My sister? Did... did I ever find her and the Mayet?" He turns his head back up and looks at the white haired man. "Tell me man!" He suddenly grabs onto both upper arms of the man and has a crazed look in his eyes. "If I defeated the EFA... if I truly got rid of the Balmarians. Where is she?" This wasn't exactly a psychotic breakdown. There was pure emotion of loss and worry in his voice. "Am... am I really going crazy?" Not waiting for an answer, he lets go of Rem and turns away from the fake Divine Crusader and begins to wander towards the Amenthes... far off. Staggering.

There was no response from Regent, at least not until Ascian was no longer looking at him. He slowly reached up to his chin and rubbed at it while watching Ascian stagger away. Movement in illusion was hard...he had to continually warp the very reality in such a way that Ascian wouldn't actually go anywhere except in a circle. Not worth the effort.

Like an abrupt lurch, perhaps one so significant that Ascian might even be forced to stumble, reality shifted back into place. Once more the brig was around him, and he was once again alone.

He would find a note if he investigated his doodlings once more, one written on a piece of paper that would eventually simply cease to exist.

"She wouldn't want you to rot away in a cell."

Ascian blinks a few times. "A dream after all?" Is his first response - reeling away from the wall he was about to wander into. His body shivers. Alone. Yes. He hated that emotion, especially being so far from the Amenthes. He stares up at his doodles for a moment - before noticing something on the ground. He kneels down like he had once before the rock and picks up the piece of 'paper' that had already begun to fade. "Who...?" He suddenly turns about - looking around madly. "Who left this in here!?" He calls out. She wouldn't want him to rot away in a cell? Of course she wouldn't. But what else was he to do?

A small while ago, Ascian could have been heard calling out from the brig. The soldiers of course, have paid little attention to this - as it was a single occassion only. In general, the Divine Crusader prisoner who had so easily been brought aboard with the damaged Amenthes unit, had been quiet. Even during the the removal of the normal suit and being put in the brig, he had made no attempts of attacking anyone. In fact, he'd seemed like he'd lost that normal 'luster' one tends to see in soldiers... or people in general really. Some of that luster had come back a small moment ago though, and it was time for the prisoner to be fed as well. So, coming down one hallway is one of the older soldiers under Bright Noa's Argama, carrying a small box of standard food.

Except it isn't really one the 'older soldiers,' unless roughly-18 counts as old, and Trailers are officially counted as soldiers aboard the Argama.

"Yo," Kazuma Ardygun says casually from outside the door of Ascian's cell. "Somebody heard you were yelling but couldn't make out what it was... did you need something, besides a meal? This is supposed to be for you, so ..." He checks to see if there's a slot or something to slide the box through.

There is no slot. The two guards next to the door give Kazuma a kindly nod and nudge their heads towards the handle of the door. "Want me to open the door?" The guard near the keypad offers. In the meanwhile, inside of the cell, Ascian Luddite answers; "Earlier I asked if someone had come into the brig." The guards just shake their heads. "He was yelling something about going crazy, and then started asking if someone had come into that room. Seems a bit off of his rockers." The second guard notes to Kazuma, whilst he steps in front of the door and opens a small slot at the top to peek inside. Ascian could clearly be seen sitting in the back section, legs slightly hugged up to his chest, and his eyes just barely visible beneath the shadows which his hair casts -- head laying forwards to create this effect.

Kazuma nods to the keypad guard, "Yeah. Is it okay for me to stay in there for a little to talk to him? If he tries to get past me and escape I'll make him wish he hadn't survived to be tossed in the brig ..." The DC pilot probably could use some company, Kazuma reflects as he waits for the door to be opened.

The keypad guard lets out a thoughtful hum and eyes Kazuma. The guy seems to be toned up well enough to put up a decent fight, so the guard thinks as he looks him over. "Just don't let your sister find out." The man notes. "Or who-ever she is. Girls don't seem to appreciate their close ones slipping into brigs with captives." The man punches a few keys, after which a 'click' announces that the lock was opened. The door soon follows suit, sliding open to the side.

"Careful." The other guard warns - playing a hand on Kazuma's shoulder for a short moment. "Who knows with this guy. I've heard rumors about those BAHRAM framerunners. Orbital Frames they call what they ride on, right? Bunch of crazies, a friend of mine said." He then steps in to let Kazuma get in. Ascian merely looks up and gives the man a questioning look. "I recognize your voice." The Divine Crusader suddenly comments. "Were you at Zaftra a few days ago?"

The mention of Orbital Frames and 'crazy pilots' prompts a grimace to cross Kazuma's face, nearly a scowl. Or maybe it's the comment about 'his sister' 'or whoever she is'. "Younger sister," he says firmly, then steps inside, holding the box out to Ascian.

"Yeah, I was," he answers, and introduces himself, "Kazuma Ardygun, of the Valstork Family. You were there too..." He trails off as if trying to remember where Ascian was in the fray.

"Hey now. Just didn't know exactly who she was to you." The guard who had commented on the girl backs off a bit and makes defensive motions. "Anyhow, we're closing the door behind you. Knock if you need to get out." The door does indeed slide closed behind Kazuma, leaving him 'trapped' with Ascian - who is still giving him a strange look. "Ah yes, the construction worker." Ascian comments.

"Don't worry too much where I was during that conflict. It didn't end well for me." Heck, he barely remembered the last half of that. He just remembered being uncovered and finding the end-results. "Seems you were lucky enough to punch out - away from... whatever happened." The Orbital Frame pilot remains seated, as if he doesn't want to pose as a threat to the other kid. "But tell me - what's someone like you doing with the EFA? Helping the Divine Crusaders and EFA like this... Trailer?" He makes a fairly logical assumption.

"Trailer," Kazuma nods, moving closer to hand the box over to Ascian, then backing off to lean against the wall next to the door. "And we didn't punch out, we just poured on the speed when we realized that place was about to become a big old blast crater." He shakes his head, looking disgusted. "Anyway. Glad you survived that brouhaha, yourself."

Ascian takes the box and sets it next to him. He doesn't even open it. Instead, he just scowls at the box with contempt. How dare the EFA show him hospitality. Tisk. "What is it to you that I survived anyhow?" Ascian mutters and turns his eyes up towards Kazuma again. "But I guess I am glad myself. Had I been in one of those dinky toys - like the Gundams or Valkyries... I'd been dead now. Amenthes saved me." He forgot to call it 'the' Amenthes. It's becoming clear that he's slowly beginning to refer to it as if it were a living and breathing person. The framerunner pauses for a moment - gaze shifting across the room towards the door. Kazuma could probably tell that the intent of getting out of here was burning in his eyes... but then, what was stopping him? He hadn't even gotten up. He nudges his head up. "So. A sister huh?" He says this word in a strange manner. Almost creepy. "Why drag her onto a place like the Argama? Why drag her into a war? Would she not be safer off elsewhere?"

"I care," Kazuma says evenly, "because every life matters. Pops has been drilling that into me since I was old enough to put words together into sentences - even a single human life is precious. Besides, in a war like the one the Balmarians brought, there's nothing at all to say that yesterday's enemy won't be today's ally or tomorrow's friend - or both. For Trailers and mercenaries, that's even more true. As for Mihiro - being the Valhawk's sub-pilot is part of her job within the family, everyone has a role that they fill. Pops is the ship's captain, Neechan, Chii-nee and Horis are the bridge crew, Mihiro and I fly the Valhawk to protect our family's ship when we're needed to - or when there's work we're needed for elsewhere. She also flies the Valhawk with me by her own choice - if she didn't want to be my co-pilot, she'd just do something else on board the Valstork, and supposedly she'd be safer there."

Ascian slowly raises his hand to his forehead and shakes it gently against his palm - trying to get rid of the headache that is still plagueing him. "Everyone has a place huh?" A smile forms. "Yeah. I know that way of thinking too. Everybody writes their own destiny. Those are the words my sister shared with me before we were torn apart." Sorrow fills his voice for a moment; his own sister seems to be a sore subject. Perhaps that was why he'd commented on Kazuma's sister. "Mihiro huh?" He moves his other hand to grab the foor, and continues on to push his back against the wall - moving his body up into a standing position.

"But what if nobody will accept your destiny? What if there is no room for your role in life?" The BAHRAM framerunner shakes his head even as he says this. "They are but words really. Guess at least you've found a way to live them." He lets out an amused yet ironic 'heh'. "Can you tell me... how is she? I mean, the Amenthes?" Kazuma could probably notice now that where he'd once sat, in chalk, there was a general schematic drawn of the Orbital Frame - indicating its Metatron flows. A big cross mark indicates where its spine had been destroyed, and two large marks indicate just how bad the torso had been. Almost everything was cut off from the cockpit.

Kazuma shrugs, "My destiny's not up to anyone else to decide, is it? I pick my own path to follow - that's part of what being a Trailer is about. And the Balmarians are going to find out the hard way as things go on - some of them are already finding out, I would think. Nobody writes my destiny for me, and nobody gets to take an eraser to it either." He speaks with quiet determination on this subject.

When it comes to the Orbital Frame, though, Kazuma looks over the chalk sketch of the Amenthes, and studies it enough to match it up with the machine he remembers seeing under repairs. "Eh ... they're working on it, is all I know. I don't know if they've got the tech and parts to really repair an Orbital Frame on here. They've probably got at least some data, but not a lot - there'd be more info out in the Martian Sphere, probably."

"Unless they have some supplies of Metatron, things will be left a mess." A small smirk appears at Ascian's lips. "Let's just hope they don't try to pilot it." The young man remains standing and opens the little box of food and peers at the... less than suitable food. "Ehh.." The Divine Crusader makes a dirty look. "Guess it will do." So he begins to eat slowly, whilst studying Kazuma again. "At least we agree on that. I hate that whole braincontrol thing they seem to be doing. One question though. What would you do if your sister got kidnapped and was brainmashed? What if she was just about to kill you... could you kill her to defend yourself?" A gleeful look suddenly appears on his face. Is he having fun asking such a morbid question to this young man. "Presume she is not responding to your calls."

"I'd take her back," Kazuma says firmly, all but spearing you with his gaze. "If I had to let her wound me to get through to her, I would, but I *would* take her back from whoever had turned her against me. Just like I'm doing to get Macua back. Just like my other friends are fighting, and getting hurt or their machines damaged, to reclaim the loved ones *they've* lost."

"Heh. Guess you are that stupid. Or maybe... just that brave and strong of mind." Ascian isn't sure of which it is - but the smile has faded. "I'm glad that people like you are out there. Even if you are just trailer trash." As much as he used that derogatory term, there was no real hatred in his voice. It was more like a preprogrammed word. Like he could not help but call him that. "Anyhow." He waves his hand at Kazuma. "You ought to get going. Go see your sister and hang out with her... for as long as you have time to spend with her. Family is important after all."

Even if it was said without hatred, that phrase still elicits a VERY angry look from Kazuma. He stays at the door end of the cell, but the look of anger he gives Ascian is so intense that you could almost weaponize it. "Don't," he growls, "use that phrase. Ever. Especially where I can hear it. There may be some Trailers who deserve to be called trash, but there are others who're probably better citizens of the Earth Sphere than anyone who fights under the banner of the Earth Federation, or the Crusaders, or the A-LAWS or Katharon. Trailers choose their freedom over outside ties - that's what defines a Trailer."

He turns and knocks on the door, but there's still time for Ascian to speak further.

"Don't joke with me. Everyone is trash. In that much, the aliens are right." The door opens, letting Kazuma come face-to-face with the guard who'd been at the keypad - who grabs the guy and pulls him out before he does something stupid. After all, they'd been listening, they'd heard the change in voice. "To get so angry over such a comment is just silly." Ascian continues to casually eat after speaking those words, but has a devious grin on his face - staring at the Valhawk pilot. "See you later, trailer trash." Oh, now he's just doing it on purpose. Why must he be such a jerk at times?

The door slides open with a hiss, revealing a number of armed Katharon marines and the indomitable Captain himself. Bright squints immediately at Kazuma, conveying every much the sense of 'get out of the way' one can without committing to words.

Even when he's busy glaring a hole in the man who just called him 'trailer trash,' Kazuma seems to sense the captain's gaze and steps away from the cell door, never taking his eyes off Ascian.

He is smarter and a better guest than to pick a fight with one of the ship's regular security complement while he is (1) aboard that ship, (2) standing in the corridor of that very ship's brig, and (3) in the presence of the ship's commanding officer. Kazuma has his pride, yes, but he also has a working brain, thanks to (or occasionally despite) several years of occasional percussive maintenance courtesy of Blessfield Ardygun.

It is his brain that wins out over his pride, but the *look* Kazuma maintains on Ascian - at least until someone or something passes between them to break eye contact - might leave one wondering which aspect will win.

The guards at the door immediately salute the captain and move towards the sides of the brig - which still was open. Ascian was still casually just standing at the bag, eating the miserably dinner that prisoners of war get to eat. He doesn't look like he's quite enjoying the food, but the fact that he'd been able to rile up Kazuma so much had made his dinner so much better. However, he's not entirely still. With his foot, he is rubbing against the wall, getting rid of the little 'drawing' he'd made in chalk.

Bright passes by Kazuma, saying little as he keeps his eyes on Ascian. Once inside, he stands with his legs spread, arms folded over his chest. Behind him, the door to the brig -- at least one mode of escape for Ascian -- slides shut. "Name, rank, serial number, and organization," the Captain demands.

Ascian casually looks at Bright for a moment - then smiles. "Ah, the famous Captain Bright." He puts the food down onto the floor, and suddenly salutes the man. He has enough respect for people such as him. "The Agressors miss you, sir. The name is Ascian Luddite, framerunner under the BAHRAM Science Division and scout under the Divine Crusaders. Designation: Akert One." He formally introduces himself and remains at attention - staring straight at Bright.

Ascian's name-drop earns him a squint from Argama's C.O. It is not the most comforting things to be caught in the middle of -- perhaps a glance from a gorgon would be more preferable. "To what purpose was your assistance in defending this ship from Balmar attack? What is the significance of this crew to Puru Two?"

"Sir. My superiors told me to support the EFA, A-LAWS, Katharon and just about anyone else, as long as they were combatting the alien menace. Besides... Puru Two said to assist." The young man shrugs. "As for her involvement. She seems to have some kind of ties with the one known as Judau - or so I understood from what was going on out there." The young man continues to stand at attention, like a soldier under Bright's very own command. Only... the normal 'admiration' and 'friendliness' that he might be used to is missing. Instead, it is contempt. Not at Bright himself, but rather... what he stands for now.

With the door closed and cutting off Kazuma's glare, he relaxes somewhat and heads back to the hangar. He needs to see how the Valhawk is doing, and how Mihiro is doing as well. They may be heading back to the Valstork soon, depending on several factors ...

"Your superiors have a funny way of defining 'support,' Mister Ascian." Bright is about as pleasant as a rattlesnake and twice as ornery. "How did the Crusaders uncover the location of Merida Island?" he switches over to the more important thing. "Who ordered the attack?"

That comment sure gets a glower from Ascian. "If you are speaking in reference to the madman who was with us. He is not one I associate with. He doesn't really associate with anyone. As for me - my unit was Sabotaged!" The 'pleasantry' factor of Bright does not exactly give him much of a reason to be any friendlier himself. "I do not know about the intelligence information on Merida Island." Did he know more? There was a smirk in the way he was looking...

"If I may be so free sir..." He doesn't care about actually being given permission. He just wants to throw Bright off of the subject of that particular island it would seem. Mainly because really, he just doesn't know. "Now that The Agressors are disbanded. And Bian Zoldark has been proven right... what do you think our greatest weapons is against the Balmarian menace? The SDF-3 has been set free from the Moon Base... but is there more?" How did the Divine Crusaders get /THAT/ information?

Bright squints a little more.

There's an awkward pause of several seconds.

And then Bright's fist comes flying like a metal adder, swinging in a left-facing arc to catch Ascian on the chin. "Who ordered the attack on Merida Island!?" he phrases the question again. Maybe a knuckle-sandwich will loosen those lips.

Ah yes. The famous punishment by fist. The closed hand strikes Ascian straight in the cheek - as he automatically ducked slightly and is sent stumbling a bit to the right. He raises his hand automatically to hold his cheek there and throws Bright a defiant look. "You tell me information, I tell you information. It's only fair - don't you think?" Is he... grinning? It's not your standard 'hehe' grin. It's more of a mad one. Like he'd just enjoyed being struck. In truth, he'd been punished and punched around quite a bit during his starting military career. He could almost hear his sister's voice in the back of his mind, comforting him already. "I already gave you my answer. I do not know about the intelligence information on Merida Island. I am merely a scout." His voice stays stable and rigid... for now.

Bright Noa's arms thrust out, his hands reaching out to catch Ascian by his uniform. He pulls hard with a sudden stop, treating the young man like a ragdoll with little consideration to the health of his neck. "How about -you- tell -me- information and -I'll- consider whether or not to throw you out the -nearest airlock-?"

Bright lets go with his right hand, just so he can bring the back of it cracking against the side of Ascian's face. "You may think you're some special snowflake, Ascian. Raised and conditioned, full of destiny and greatness, but to me you're an especially loathesome specimen of subhuman the Crusaders filled their ranks with. Whether or not you keep that stupid look on your face after you're frozen in the vaccuum makes little difference to me. Now who ordered the attack on Merida Island!? Tell me!"

"Bian Zoldark!" He called it out in just enough emotion to make this a completely believable statement. Had he been brainwashed into believing this? Was it the truth? Had some kind of clone rissen? Or was he completely bullshitting. Of course, it was the latter. But it was hard to tell, especially with him still reeling from the backhand slap to the face - taking a few steps to the right to stop himself from falling over. He turns his eyes up to Bright once again. "I know I am nothing special. I am merely a scout - nothing within our army. I've had as many succesful operations as luck has granted me." It's almost as if... he's already had those kind of corrections. He blinks a few times though... before anger takes over again and he stands upright like a soldier. It was almost as if he were saying; 'Can I have another, sir!'. But he didn't voice this.

Ascian does not refute Bright's comment, but neither does he say that it is true. Instead, he just has this 'meaningful' look on his face. This stare breaks however when Bright gives momentary pause to the punishment and finally reaches a hand up to feel his face again. Those punches hurt! "As for my scouting. My mission is to seek out alien activity." The taste of iron was in his mouth. He let his tongue pass along his mouth and found the taste of blood. Some of his teeth had cut into his cheek. The young man ignores it however, and continues to speak; "I report their movements to base - and attack them on sight. I was reassigned recently after the fall of Zaftra's walls to scout space, due to the Amenthes ability to move freely." He tries again. "Are you sure /you/ still have no better weapons against the aliens?"

"That's none of your goddamn business," Bright growls. He has no intention of letting slip of any aces he keeps up his sleeve to a Crusader. "And you've been about as useful as the Gundam Fight." His brow quirks up as he takes notice of Ascian minding his wounds. Pain wasn't that effective of an information-gathering tool. But then again, there tends to be one thing that pilots really care about. Their own hardware. Bright folds his arms over his chest, "And I don't like you aboard my ship. We'll have to decide where you'll be going -- after we've jettisoned your orbital frame into the sun." Of course, Captain Bright might reconsider such things.. in exchange for some information.

Threatening the Amenthes is something only few people have dared to do within Ascian's past. Only once had he known true fear before a person that had threatened it... and this was not that man. This was not a man who could destroy a unit just by pointing at it. His eyes almost seem to burn for a moment, and a slight 'glimmer' or red light glows beneath his eyes for a moment; residue of the massive amounts of Metatron energy poisoning that had coursed through his body a few hours ago before the Amenthes had been disabled. It looks freaky. "You do /not/ threaten her!" Her. Not it. Her. "Amenthes is not someone to just jettison like that! How..." he can't find the words - and his eyes dart in his sockets as he momentarily stares at the floor... before they spring upwards and focus on Bright. The young man throws a mean right hook... one a well trained soldier would throw.

"Y--" Bright is about to offer Ascian salvation, except he's interrupted with a knuckle-sandwich. "Unff!" he grunts as his face jerks to the side. He falls backward, possibly taking Ascian with him.

Then there's a sudden click.

..and Bright is on the floor, his sidearm aimed directly for the Crusader pilot. He briefly bites down on his lower lip, which is already starting to swell. There's a metallic tang in his mouth and a little bit of blood trickling out the corner of his mouth. Bright is scowling, as if daring Ascian to make the wrong move that'd end his young Crusader career in more ways than one.

"Sit -down-," Bright snarls. "You damn, dirty Spacenoid."

Old prejudices die hard.

When the sidearm is aimed at him, Ascian immediately backpedals away from Bright after having fallen on him - having felt the metalic weapon against his chest. That definitely had gotten his attention. The man scowls at the Argama's captain, but does as asked and settles down in the corner that is the furthest away from the man with the gun. "Dirty spacenoid? Perhaps the aliens are right after all..." It was clear in his voice that there was no way he believed this. But it was enough of a title to make him angry. He continues to stare at Bright - rebelious for a moment... then hangs his head and sighs. That same 'mood' he'd been in when he had arrived suddenly overtook him. "Fine. I will answer the rest of your questions."

"Spare me your philosophizing," Bright spits a watery bloodclot between him and Ascian. He slowly returns to his feet, keeping his gun pointed for Ascian's center-mass. There's an exceedingly good chance that the Federation Academy preaches the importance of the 'double-tap.' "Who ordered the attack on Merida Island," he finds himself asking for the third time. "If I have to ask a fourth time, Martian, you'll personally watch your Orbital Frame burn up in the sun."

"I do not know!" Ascian replies again. "You've asked me a few times already! But if I were to guess..." He ponders. "But I've heard words that there is one man within our organization who had interest in that island. Someone named..." He pauses for a moment. His eyes turn up and the the right; trying to recall a distant memory. "Mister Silver?" "Honestly, I am not certain. He is the only one who had interest in that place that I can remember hearing from amongst the people at the Earth Cradle." The young man wraps his arms around his legs and pulls them up to his chest - almost as if trying to protect himself. "Also. I would not throw away the Orbital Frame so readily. It is worth much more than myself." Was he alluding to something? Setting a trap?

"Silver?" Bright echoes back the name, his brow furrowed in thought. At least Ascian isn't barking up the Bian Zoldark tree still. Thoughts work out in his head, nothing like solving a mystery while simultaneously fending off invader attacks. God, when the hell is he ever going to reach retirement? "What do you know about this Mister Silver, Mister Ascian? Where does he place in the Crusaders? Where's his allegiance? Zeon? BAHRAM? Dinosaur Empire?"

"I know that he is high ranked, and does something with technology I think." He doesn't know anything about the man other than what he's heard - and what was associated with that name. "I'm sorry... ah!" He suddenly looks up. "I think he also is a supplier." Finally he remembers something important. "He mostly deals in highly technologically advanced ARM Slaves." The rumors in his mind clicked to the same person. "All I know other than that - is that he is not with BAHRAM, nor have I ever heard Dr. Hell mention his name. I do not know about ZEON." Ascian pauses and gives Bright a thoughtful stare.

"Why is this so important to you? It almost sounds like... you lost someone important there. Or is a place like that just as important as a loved one to a captain?" This isn't a question of ridicule. He truly wants to know. "Also... if you want more information. If I can get Amenthes back up and running... I could look you up some of this information. Assuming they have not cut my access to the databanks."

Captain Bright is not exactly appreciative of anyone trying to get inside his head. "I like to know who's pointing guns at my people," he answers with a glare. "Especially someone who'd see fit to engage in these hostilities in the midst of invasion."

Ascian's offer makes Bright squint at him yet again. "Nothing you've said would give me any reason to trust you to be anywhere near your Orbital Frame, let alone any mobile weapon."

"You have no reason to trust me - other than the fact that I tried to protect your ship. Sure, it didn't go as well as I planned - but at least the alien ended up fleeing from the scene." Ascian mutters. "Guess I am sorry I helped such an ungrateful man." He grits his teeth, having a hard time not jumping up and do something stupid. "But let me tell you one thing. I have no intents of engaging even the EFA during this conflict. The Balmarians are my only enemies right now." He speaks with truth and conviction. "I... am not pointing guns at your people. Not everyone within the Divine Crusaders are raving lunatics out for people's lives."

At that, Bright reaches up to run his thumb across his bleeding lip. He glances at the smear of red across his skin, then glares at Ascian. "Prove it."

With a step back, Bright hits the door with the butt of his gun. The door slides open with a hiss and several marines stand by, rifles pointed into the brig's confines. "We're done here," the Captain indicates. "Get Dr. Hasan to take a look at him."

"How?" Ascian pushes his back against the wall so he can bring himself to stand. His cheek was finally turning slightly blue, belatedly, thanks to the mighty God Hand of Bright Noa. "How can I prove something that can only be shown through time passing and nothing happening? Trust is not that easy to prove!" The Divine Crusader growls and eyes Bright's gun for a moment - but swings his gaze away from it when he notices the rifles aimed at him.

Bright walks off and the door slides shut behind him.

For the time being, it looks like Ascian will have to figure out those answers for himself.

At least Dr. Hasan will be by to ensure Ascian doesn't come down with any kind of terrible space infection.