Fae musings
darthcourt10
Well worn.
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SoulessScotsman
Connie sighed as she sat down in her wingbacked armchair in her study/office. The home, inside the expanded base housing district that had cropped up when the Boston Naval Shipyard had been reactivated in an act of desperation in the wake of Blood Week, was a modest three story house, built and sold—at cost—to one Commodore Constance McLees of the US Navy for services rendered to the City of Boston. She, Miranda and Admiral Shepard all sat in Connie's study/office, nursing various alcoholic drinks.
Miranda popped the top off her third beer and sighed. She took a long pull and held the cold bottle to her forehead.
Connie cast her daughter a concerned look, "Talking about Cora always does this to you."
"She was my sister in all but blood," Miranda said hollowly, "She was my daughter's Godmother, and I was her children's. She named her son after my husband. I love Crowe as if he were my own. We served together, Mother. She saved my life and I saved hers. I can list reasons talking about her depresses me until the sun comes up. Need I?"
"I remember meeting you two when we were younger," Admiral Shepard mused, swirling her rum, "Fifty Black Ops spooks on the Enterprise, and only two of them were women. Granted, back in the day, that was unheard of."
Miranda snorted into her beer, "You're just jealous the Army was more forward thinking and let us do the fun stuff. Told you the Gavy was a mistake."
The admiral flipped the shipgirl off, "Go fuck a rake, you haggard old bitch. You're in the Navy."
"Not by choice, you ginger twat. When I tried to get my commission back, the Army turned me away."
"You're a shipgirl," said ginger snapped, "What did you expect?"
"Don't give me that. You and I both know I'm only ever going to be useful in a ground combat role, or, godsforbid, an administrative job. I'm far from capable of fighting sea-borne Abyssals."
"So?"
"'So'?! What do you mean, 'so'?!"
Connie laughed, "Girls, girls! Stop fighting! You're both bitchy."
"So," Miranda blew out a breath, "The Summer thing blindsided me. Cora, a Changeling?"
"You didn't know?" Shepard asked sharply.
"Hannah!" Connie snapped.
"It's a fair question," Miranda interjected, "No, I didn't. But she always was a little...ethereal. I'm six-foot and pretty well built, so I was always brute force and blunt trauma. Cora? Cora was barely a hair over five-foot, but she was precise, graceful and fast. I've never met anyone that could pull off the things she could."
"I remember. You two sparred with some SEALs, right? You beat the snot out of yours, and she tired hers out, then beat the snot out of him."
"Death by a thousand cuts, versus death by one big one. Equals and opposites."
The admiral snorted, "Hard to believe such a tiny blonde gave birth to Crowe. He's, what, seven-foot?"
"Six-eleven. Used to hit his head on doorjams constantly. I remember when Cora and I saw a photo of him during his first deployment. The M4 he was issued looked like a toy. Then there was his unit! He was two heads taller than almost everyone else in it. And Raven! Hah! I think she topped out at six-four, all said and done."
Connie hummed, "So. Raven. What's she like?"
"Snarky. Sarcastic. Cynical. But driven, if unambitious. If she sets her sights on a goal, not much can stop her. It's just getting her to do that first bit that's difficult. And while I wouldn't call her nice, she's about as far from mean-spirited as you could get. Just don't earn her ire."
"A female Crowe, then," Connie noted.
Miranda laughed, "Not quite. Raven tends to smile more, and Crowe tends to be a lot more deadpan. Raven's also got a knack for translation. She does a lot of work for smaller manga and anime companies translating their stuff to English."
"So," Shepard drawled, "She just smiles more, but is essentially Crowe. The one officer on my base who had to be coerced into taking his promotion from O1 to O2. The one officer that glares death at any man, and in some cases, woman, that makes an unwelcome pass at you, your daughters, Connie, my daughter—who, I'll remind all involved, can more than take care of herself, on top of the entirety of her crew—and generally any of the Cruisers. The one officer the majority of the younger-and-or-newer Destroyers and Escort Carriers call "Uncle Crowe" because he goes out of his way to treat them like people and not the disposable time-buyers they think of themselves as? The one officer that not only got his commission from a battlefield promotion during Blood Week, but from the same battle that decimated an entire battalion's worth of Special Forces Operators. Operators that not only disobeyed orders telling them to fall back, but then proceeded to reinforce struggling French, British and German soldiers on the shores of Marseille, while also inspiring the US Military forces stationed in Europe to break orders and reinforce all conflict zones along the English Channel and North Sea, and decided to lead a suicidal charge—that he survived—to push the Abyssals back? That Crowe?"
"I'll point out that if Hood, Bismark and Richelieu hadn't shown up sailing in at full-speed, murderously angry and raining down hurt on the Abyssals, that charge would have killed him." Connie said as she rolled her eyes, "He even admits he got incredibly lucky in his report. With an addendum of 'I am never again going to do anything that suicidally stupid. Ever.' Besides, he said it was his CO's idea and that he just took up the torch when he was killed—waitaminute."
Connie whirled on the admiral, incredulity writ on her face, "His file is more black ink than paper! I had to twist the CIA Director's arm to get his uncensored file, and that was with SECNAV's backing! How the hell did you get it?"
Shepard grinned like a fox, "Sergeant Major Harper and I go way back. He's also Force Recon. And his company was one of the first to follow those crazy Spec-Ops bastards in. He recognized that giant you call a liaison."
The door to Connie's office opened and Massachusetts walked in, "Sorry to interrupt you, Ma, but we've got a problem. Oh good, the admiral is here."
Shepard rolled her eyes, "Report, Captain."
"Crowe's family decided to pay a visit."
Miranda snorted into her beer, "What, Raven finally decided to forgive him?"
"What?" Massachusetts blinked, "Who the hell is Raven?"
"...His sister?" Miranda tried, before horrified realization dawned, "Oh, god, it wasn't his sister?"
"No, it was a sídhe. Aurora, the Summer Lady herself. And she claimed to be his aunt."
"Dammit!" Miranda cursed as she bolted out the door.
"Why wasn't I notified the moment this happened?" the Admiral demanded.
"Damage control. Didn't want the entire base going totally nuts. And I'm telling you now."
Connie sighed, "Agreed. Much as you don't like it, Hannah, she made the right call. Now, full report, Captain."
Massachusetts sat in Miranda's vacated chair, "This is gonna take a while..."
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A/N: Backstory!
Connie sighed as she sat down in her wingbacked armchair in her study/office. The home, inside the expanded base housing district that had cropped up when the Boston Naval Shipyard had been reactivated in an act of desperation in the wake of Blood Week, was a modest three story house, built and sold—at cost—to one Commodore Constance McLees of the US Navy for services rendered to the City of Boston. She, Miranda and Admiral Shepard all sat in Connie's study/office, nursing various alcoholic drinks.
Miranda popped the top off her third beer and sighed. She took a long pull and held the cold bottle to her forehead.
Connie cast her daughter a concerned look, "Talking about Cora always does this to you."
"She was my sister in all but blood," Miranda said hollowly, "She was my daughter's Godmother, and I was her children's. She named her son after my husband. I love Crowe as if he were my own. We served together, Mother. She saved my life and I saved hers. I can list reasons talking about her depresses me until the sun comes up. Need I?"
"I remember meeting you two when we were younger," Admiral Shepard mused, swirling her rum, "Fifty Black Ops spooks on the Enterprise, and only two of them were women. Granted, back in the day, that was unheard of."
Miranda snorted into her beer, "You're just jealous the Army was more forward thinking and let us do the fun stuff. Told you the Gavy was a mistake."
The admiral flipped the shipgirl off, "Go fuck a rake, you haggard old bitch. You're in the Navy."
"Not by choice, you ginger twat. When I tried to get my commission back, the Army turned me away."
"You're a shipgirl," said ginger snapped, "What did you expect?"
"Don't give me that. You and I both know I'm only ever going to be useful in a ground combat role, or, godsforbid, an administrative job. I'm far from capable of fighting sea-borne Abyssals."
"So?"
"'So'?! What do you mean, 'so'?!"
Connie laughed, "Girls, girls! Stop fighting! You're both bitchy."
"So," Miranda blew out a breath, "The Summer thing blindsided me. Cora, a Changeling?"
"You didn't know?" Shepard asked sharply.
"Hannah!" Connie snapped.
"It's a fair question," Miranda interjected, "No, I didn't. But she always was a little...ethereal. I'm six-foot and pretty well built, so I was always brute force and blunt trauma. Cora? Cora was barely a hair over five-foot, but she was precise, graceful and fast. I've never met anyone that could pull off the things she could."
"I remember. You two sparred with some SEALs, right? You beat the snot out of yours, and she tired hers out, then beat the snot out of him."
"Death by a thousand cuts, versus death by one big one. Equals and opposites."
The admiral snorted, "Hard to believe such a tiny blonde gave birth to Crowe. He's, what, seven-foot?"
"Six-eleven. Used to hit his head on doorjams constantly. I remember when Cora and I saw a photo of him during his first deployment. The M4 he was issued looked like a toy. Then there was his unit! He was two heads taller than almost everyone else in it. And Raven! Hah! I think she topped out at six-four, all said and done."
Connie hummed, "So. Raven. What's she like?"
"Snarky. Sarcastic. Cynical. But driven, if unambitious. If she sets her sights on a goal, not much can stop her. It's just getting her to do that first bit that's difficult. And while I wouldn't call her nice, she's about as far from mean-spirited as you could get. Just don't earn her ire."
"A female Crowe, then," Connie noted.
Miranda laughed, "Not quite. Raven tends to smile more, and Crowe tends to be a lot more deadpan. Raven's also got a knack for translation. She does a lot of work for smaller manga and anime companies translating their stuff to English."
"So," Shepard drawled, "She just smiles more, but is essentially Crowe. The one officer on my base who had to be coerced into taking his promotion from O1 to O2. The one officer that glares death at any man, and in some cases, woman, that makes an unwelcome pass at you, your daughters, Connie, my daughter—who, I'll remind all involved, can more than take care of herself, on top of the entirety of her crew—and generally any of the Cruisers. The one officer the majority of the younger-and-or-newer Destroyers and Escort Carriers call "Uncle Crowe" because he goes out of his way to treat them like people and not the disposable time-buyers they think of themselves as? The one officer that not only got his commission from a battlefield promotion during Blood Week, but from the same battle that decimated an entire battalion's worth of Special Forces Operators. Operators that not only disobeyed orders telling them to fall back, but then proceeded to reinforce struggling French, British and German soldiers on the shores of Marseille, while also inspiring the US Military forces stationed in Europe to break orders and reinforce all conflict zones along the English Channel and North Sea, and decided to lead a suicidal charge—that he survived—to push the Abyssals back? That Crowe?"
"I'll point out that if Hood, Bismark and Richelieu hadn't shown up sailing in at full-speed, murderously angry and raining down hurt on the Abyssals, that charge would have killed him." Connie said as she rolled her eyes, "He even admits he got incredibly lucky in his report. With an addendum of 'I am never again going to do anything that suicidally stupid. Ever.' Besides, he said it was his CO's idea and that he just took up the torch when he was killed—waitaminute."
Connie whirled on the admiral, incredulity writ on her face, "His file is more black ink than paper! I had to twist the CIA Director's arm to get his uncensored file, and that was with SECNAV's backing! How the hell did you get it?"
Shepard grinned like a fox, "Sergeant Major Harper and I go way back. He's also Force Recon. And his company was one of the first to follow those crazy Spec-Ops bastards in. He recognized that giant you call a liaison."
The door to Connie's office opened and Massachusetts walked in, "Sorry to interrupt you, Ma, but we've got a problem. Oh good, the admiral is here."
Shepard rolled her eyes, "Report, Captain."
"Crowe's family decided to pay a visit."
Miranda snorted into her beer, "What, Raven finally decided to forgive him?"
"What?" Massachusetts blinked, "Who the hell is Raven?"
"...His sister?" Miranda tried, before horrified realization dawned, "Oh, god, it wasn't his sister?"
"No, it was a sídhe. Aurora, the Summer Lady herself. And she claimed to be his aunt."
"Dammit!" Miranda cursed as she bolted out the door.
"Why wasn't I notified the moment this happened?" the Admiral demanded.
"Damage control. Didn't want the entire base going totally nuts. And I'm telling you now."
Connie sighed, "Agreed. Much as you don't like it, Hannah, she made the right call. Now, full report, Captain."
Massachusetts sat in Miranda's vacated chair, "This is gonna take a while..."
---------------------------------------
A/N: Backstory!