Nomad-117
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2019
- Messages
- 537
- Likes received
- 11,658
===
Chapter 10 - One Foot in Front of the Other
===
Having spent some time wandering around the Ark's commercial district, Joe found himself filled with a… hollow ringing, but that was better than doing nothing, wasting his time just sitting around his quarters, right?
Eventually, he'd found himself at that first restaurant, the one he'd visited with…
He'd claimed a seat, been served, and, after a moment of staring at the menu, somehow not able to… focus on anything listed, for some reason. He just wound up ordering the same bowl of soup he'd had last time.
Ever since that day, it had been stuck in the back of his mind: how delicious that soup had been. How that first sip had blown his socks off, how he'd been longing for another serving since that day.
Lifting the steaming bowl to his lips, Joe braced himself for an explosion of flavour, and…
Blinked. Paused, and sat there in silence for a few moments. Somehow, the food was… almost flavourless, and at once, he realized how very hungry he wasn't. Despite having been on the surface, having been in the midst of a firefight, having hoofed it to and fro, having expended no small amount of energy… he just wasn't hungry.
Lowering the bowl, setting it on the tabletop of the outdoor eating space, as people went about their daily lives, in a metropolis that looked the part of the platonic ideal city, at least on the surface… Joe just stared blankly at his food, and quietly pondered the curiosity of how one of the most delicious things he'd ever tasted in his life, suddenly, had a flavour profile comparable to water.
Somehow, the "Commander's Discount" and well-wishes for his 'absent lady friend' he'd been offered after forcing the soup down so as to not waste food felt like a slap across the face, and the young man was quick to take his leave.
Joe had wandered about for some time after that, eventually finding himself making his way back to his room after artificial night had fallen. He'd thought little during his time outside, and was quick to settle down for the night, entering the room, bee-lining for the bed, and throwing himself onto it to sleep with little consideration for much else.
Having awoken the following morning, he'd rapidly realized that he'd made a mistake in not showering as soon as he'd gotten back from the field, and, better late than never, corrected that mistake.
Then… he sat down on his bed, and waited. About a half-hour into that, it occurred to him that he should see if he could put on any music using his computer or tablet, and quickly enough, he was streaming music over the Ark's internet. He'd just gone with the first thing on the list, and continued to sit, waiting for orders.
Two hours after that, he realized during a news break that he wasn't even absorbing any of the music he heard - he might as well have been listening to a desk fan.
Now laying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, Joe took a deep breath. What was he supposed to do? Ingrid had stated she would contact him… if she got things worked out quickly enough, at least.
So, he might well just wind up sitting around all day in his room, doing absolutely nothing.
…A report, he should file a report of what had happened and submit it. That was among his duties when he looked over them, and when he'd asked Ma- when he'd asked about them.
Rising to his feet, Joe fixated on the computer at his desk, focusing on it over anything else, and began the process of doing one of the duties expected of him.
He worked on that with a singular fixation above all else.
Having lost track of time, Joe wrote and submitted the report with clinical precision, as best as he could within the stated requirements.
Then, he stared at the computer screen.
…In silence, not thinking, considering much at all.
He just started clicking on shit, deciding to start digging into the computer's start menu and folders and such, if only to explore and better familiarize himself with it. What was he supposed to…
…Games launcher? Was there a video game service built into Ark work computers by default? Though, he supposed this was supposed to be his personal terminal in his own assigned quarters as well…
Better than just sitting around, waiting for orders that might not come, he supposed.
The following day, Joe rolled out of bed, wondered why he felt so shitty, then realized that he'd forgotten to eat yesterday. He still wasn't hungry, though. So… he bought a few packets of snacks from a vending machine not far from his quarters, and forced down a few baggies, then…
His device chirped to catch his attention. Ingrid had finally summoned him - not to the same Simulator Room he'd used previously… but to Elysion's corporate headquarters. He supposed that would make sense, all things considered.
So, having made his way to one of the three great corporate skyscrapers, Joe was quickly let in and led through the building into a section that was pretty heavily locked down. A good deal of well-armed and armoured Nikkes guarded the otherwise typically corporate halls with militaristic rigidity. Surprisingly, it felt a good deal more… well, more military than the Central Government's own headquarters. The guards there gave more of the impression of common mall cops, guys with handguns on their belts, but clearly not expecting much more than to potentially draw their batons, if even that.
Elysion's guard detail, on the other hand? Fully kitted-out soldiers, ready to throw down as if on an active battlefield at a moment's notice.
Suddenly, the state of the common Simulator Room made a good deal of sense. Maybe he'd actually learn something here, in contrast.
Ingrid gave Joe a severe once-over, immediately criticizing him once he was in her presence. "You've made no attempt to take proper care of yourself since we last spoke, clearly."
That gave the brunet pause. He… yeah, he hadn't been thinking about much at all, had he? He hadn't even washed his clothes, come to think of it. How… embarrassing? He wasn't entirely sure how he felt, and that was probably a problem in itself, considering what his job description entailed now.
Giving Joe a measuring look, she continued, "You're obviously stuck on thinking about Marian-"
She paused, taking in Joe's pointed non-reaction, the way his eyes almost glazed over for a moment after she mentioned the late Nikke's name.
"Correction: you are clearly not thinking about Marian. To the point of making it a problem."
When Joe's reaction was to just uncomfortably avert his gaze, Ingrid took that as a prompt to keep going.
"I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't feel bad, that you shouldn't mourn her or that you need to just move on. What I will tell you, though, is that the world doesn't care, and will not hesitate to take advantage of your inability to adapt. You are a soldier now: learn to compartmentalize, at the very least, or you and the Nikkes under your command will rapidly pay the ultimate price for it."
"...You're right," Joe admitted. "I'll just get more girls killed, at this rate-"
"You are not responsible for Marian's death, Pholus," Ingrid interjected pointedly. "She was corrupted before she even left the Ark, and you went above and beyond in your attempt to rescue her. You did nothing wrong, and in fact, are an exemplar of what a good Commander should be; regardless of how little you may feel it right now."
That… didn't feel right. He should have done… something-
"Most Commanders would not have cared," Ingrid clearly saw through him, and pressed the point home as best she could. "In fact, Marian had just come from working with a previous Commander that got her entire squad killed, himself included. Recordings recovered from her and her squadmate's hardware showed that he was nothing more than the typical chaff pumped out of the Central Government's mills. He treated them like weapons, got annoyed when they fell around him, falling as a consequence of his all-too-common incompetence. Now, you?"
"You made her feel like a person. Treated her like a comrade, someone that mattered to you, as a companion, not a tool. Most Nikkes don't receive that luxury. So, again: mourn her, weep for her, but do not act as though you failed her. In just one mission, you've put most of your peers with entire careers to their names to shame in your consideration for the well-being of your comrades. Do not discount the importance of this fact."
…Yeah. No wonder, then, that she was so moved by how he'd treated her, if she'd just lost her entire squad to some asshole's malicious negligence and incompetence, treating her and her comrades like disposable tools. That, followed by… Well, his just treating her like a person, even having to be held back from swinging at anyone that tried to discriminate against her in front of him…
…Shit. Shit. He had no idea, he wasn't trying to make himself look like some kind of knight in shining armour that showed up immediately in the wake of something like that…
"Now," Ingrid continued. "The Raptures won't care that you haven't had enough time to pull yourself together, and if you can't operate under pressure, focus and keep your head in the game when everything seems to have gone wrong, then you're just going to be a burden on the Nikkes that will be depending on you to bring them home."
"...Yeah, you're right," Joe agreed. Softer folks might've accused Ingrid of being overly harsh and unreasonable - but if anything, she was applying an overly soft touch to him considering her apparent militaristic nature, even if she wasn't actually officially proper military. He was a soldier now, which meant he needed to get his shit together, and if nothing else, learn to operate effectively even when something horrible had just happened. So, as much as it fucking hurt to lose Marian as he had… "Ma'am, are we able to begin training now?"
Letting out an appraising hum, Ingrid nodded once. "Before that: we will address the matter of your squad. You had previously been assigned Silver Gun. However, with Marian's passing as the last surviving member, the group has been officially retired. Ergo: owing to their performance when operating under your command during the battle against the Blacksmith, Rapi and Anis of the team newly christened 'Counters' have been permanently assigned to you. However: note that Anis is not permitted to take part in these training exercises, owing to the fact that she is a Tetra Line Nikke. Company secrets, you know the drill."
Ah, yeah. Because not spreading tactical information among all members of Earth's last line of defence was clearly the way forward, yeah?
That was a sudden and unpleasant reminder that he was also technically stuck in the midst of a cyberpunk dystopia, considering the Ark was by all practical means, run by the big three megacorporations that developed and produced all of the hardware and software that kept the arcology running.
Grand. Corporate politics were barring one of the girls that he was supposed to be fighting alongside from partaking in practical training with him, and the other half of her two-woman unit.
"So… I'm going to be just training with Rapi, then?" Joe asked, grimacing openly as he lightly scratched at the back of his neck.
"Of course not. For the time being, Anis' role will be filled in by a mass-produced Soldier EG model Nikke armed with a grenade launcher of her own," Ingrid noted matter-of-factually. "Apply what you learn with her to Anis, and otherwise, adapt as best as you can. Besides that," she continued, giving him no chance to press the matter of Anis being excluded from these training sessions. "The Scouts will also be participating in these operations. Signal and Delta - the reconnaissance team that provided sniper support to you during your battle against the Blacksmith."
Ah, the sniper team themselves. Joe was wondering if he'd get the chance to meet and thank them after all. "I'm looking forward to meeting them."
Ingrid appraisingly hummed in response before moving on. "So, this is the team you'll be moving forward with for this training - unless the Scouts find themselves preoccupied with actual field work, that is. In which case, more mass-produced Nikkes will fill in for them. Familiarize yourself with them - we'll see about arranging to have the Scouts accompany Counters if there's enough synergy to justify it."
That… "...Ma'am," Joe started, now feeling as though he really needed to ask. "Why am I having multiple squads of Nikkes permanently assigned to my command, back-to-back, when standard operational procedure is to never have a Commander and squad work together for more than one mission?"
"Because you do not display the personality failings which necessitate such measures with typical Commanders in the first place," Ingrid very candidly replied. "Most Commanders drive the Nikkes under their command to insubordination in short order. As you might imagine, this plummets the already ruinously low survival rates of active squads practically into the negatives. If you are able to properly command a consistent team, competently, at that, then you will have turned out to be a truly massive boon to the Ark."
…
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. If that wasn't one of the largest indictments of the Ark's entire military structure and culture he'd heard yet…
"...I see," Joe nodded quietly, doing his damned best to keep his cool and focus. "Well then, shall we begin?"
Looking at the rookie Commander, Ingrid let out a single huff of approval before declaring, "Best to meet your team first, don't you think?"
"...Right," Joe sighed quietly. "One step at a time."
Time to meet the crew, such as it was.
Nice, I like it.
And that was actually pretty solid advice from our coperative Overlady. Who would have thought?
So, quick question, as someone who knows next to nothing about Nikke... is there a canon reason why the common Commander is so inept that the application of basic tactics turns Joe into the equivalent of Grand Admiral Thrawn?