Moncha found himself once more walking down the narrow silver corridors of the Curadh, though now accompanied by Falc rather then Helt - A change he felt was something of a bizarre but undeniable 'upgrade'.
The young woman always drew a large number of glances from passing crew mates, especially when in her piloting gear - The skin tight white-suit on the woman's very shapely body certainly caused her to stand out from the sea of black uniforms.
Usually a pilot would immediately change once training or combat finished, after-all the use of a Vijaik is a fairly physical experience involving a selection of heavy clasps, levers and the larger control grips, this reasonably leading the perspiration as one would expect.
This was not the case for Falc.
While her experimental-fortress machine had some regular controls, in general it operated by tapping into the occupants thoughts directly - Meaning Falc simple had to lie into the machine and concentrate.
By proxy there was no need for her to immediately change uniforms after training.
Combining this with her long platinum-blond hair plus pale skin, and you had a situation were most who passed Falc believed an angel of mercy had suddenly come aboard the ship - That amongst the blank number of fit men and women in neatly regulated suits, now walked a Valkyrie of war, a picture of feminine beauty.
Moncha had felt much the same way when he had first crossed eyes with the young woman but now things were different. In his position of authority aboard the ship, he had begun to learn more and more about young Falc, about her disturbing past and current circumstances.
These thoughts all factored across his mind as the duo continued silently towards lunch - Unlike Helt, Falc was well disciplined and would never think to start a casual conversation with a superior officer in a public area - As such Moncha decided to break the ice himself;
"Hey Miss.Falc listen, about the upcomi--"
"We're here sir, should I order for us both?" Falc interrupted.
Indeed Moncha had spent so long deciding how to broach the topic with the woman that they now stood in the doorway to the canteen.
He sighed dejectedly agreeing to Falc's suggestion and going in search of any open tables.
After little more than a minute or two Falc made her way over to the seat opposite where Moncha had picked, carrying two circular trays with the same grace a professional waitress might of.
Moncha accepted the tray, containing on it a generic looking burger of sorts and a plain glass of cola - Falc's tray having a more dainty but similarly plain looking set of sandwiches and a glass of sparkling water. Moncha held the burger in one hand, while slumping his head against the ball up fist of the other - "I sure do miss the old days, just isn't the same here without the old canteen."
Falc rose an eyebrow quizzically, "I'm not sure I follow major, sir - What was so different?"
Moncha's brows shrivelled a little before he swung his hand in an encompassing gesture of the room.
It was a relatively small space with the same drab silver walls and grey floors, filled with a dozen or so rows of tables and stools, all bolted down to prevent their floating away in the lessened gravity.
At the top of the room was the only thing truly differentiating the canteen from a regular break room - The 8 pristine 'Franchise-Machines'.
Each had a vending machine-esk aesthetic displaying a large pop-art advertisement across its top section.
5 of the machines produced one form of food each; One for burgers, another for sandwiches & breads, a soup plus porridge type, a version that created more savoury foodstuffs and the fifth giving even more plain energy bars and the like.
The three others dispensed variants of water, a selection of carbonated drinks and finally one that, with the code of a senior officer, could on a rare speical occasions give out alcohol (A code that Moncha had conspicuously been refused by the Captain).
"This place used to be double the size! And you didn't get a burger from a machine like this, you got a real one made fresh by hand." Moncha explained enthusiastically waving his food around.
Falc frowned with a look of confusion;
"But the burger you are holding can be produced with a number of different nutritional values and tastes, it is a highly nutritious & tasty product no? Further is this canteen not plenty large enough, I believe the ship's work rotas are scheduled to prevent this place from ever being over 75% capacity."
Moncha slumped his shoulders dejectedly - "Yes, yes but that's not the same - The old canteen was full of life, everyone crowding in, chatting with one another. And a burger prepared by the dinner-staff with real meat and bread, its just different to this artificial stuff.
I mean smell the air in here, well?
There ain't a smell, no swirl of freshly brewing batches of coffee or the salty glory of fried goods! It's like the rest of this over-sanitised boat!"
Falc tilted her head slightly to one side in clear confusion, "Major what are dinner-staff?"
"You what? You know what I mean. Where the machines are now, there used to be a big counter and behind it this huge kitchen where the dinner-staff would prepare real food - Surely you've seen something like that before you joined the navy?"
Falc simply shock her head in response.
Moncha frowned, split between whether he was just getting old or if Falc had really been that sheltered all her life;
"Well I suppose I'll just have to bring you to one, next time we're on leave. Yes that's what I'll do."
The young woman's face lit up, "Really you'd do that for me?! But what will Dr.Simmens think?"
"Simmens be damned! I'm sure I can sneak you away for a few hours, it's only to get lunch next time we get to port." Moncha laughed.
Falc's smile grew even further at this suggestion as her amber eyes with their red-rims seemingly sparkled with glee, "Could we umm, bring Mr.Helt too Sir? And maybe the lieutenant-Sirs aswell?"
"Sure why not! We'll make it a team outing, all five of us eh?!" Moncha beamed back with pride.
"Oh yes Major? And here I was sure you would insist on it being just the two of you, alone." Interjected a new voice to the Major's side.
The voice was authoritative to the extreme, a tone that suggested a person of deep-consideration - The tone of a Senior-Officer.
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"C-captain Ma'am, I didn't see you there!" Moncha spluttered, jumping out of his seat to salute.
"Sit down Major, you will spoil your food moving so fast - Oh no wait, you said something about not liking my Canteen was it?" The Captain uttered without bothering to make eye-contact.
'Just how much of the conversation did she hear?!'
Captain Marie Synapse was an intimidating person to be around, although shorter then Moncha her posture and demeanour always gave her the appearance of the 'biggest presence' in any situation.
Her rapidly greying, light black hair being short cut and braided, to all sit under a very well kept military-cap with a small representation of the Curadh depicted upon it.
Her uniform always neatly pressed and ironed without a single seam or crease in sight, her hands held firmly behind her back.
"Ah-h, I ah, just meant that the old, ah..." Moncha mumbled uncomfortably, still surprized by the Captain's sudden appearance.
"Oh do try and act your rank Major, stuttering is so very unbecoming of authority - What sort of impression do you seek to set for the young petty officer here?" Synapse said with a sigh before turning her attentions to Falc.
For her part the younger woman had remained seating, though as Moncha now realised, Falc like everyone around them in the canteen had also saluted - Nonetheless maintaining her smile as she watched Moncha and the Captain converse.
"I suppose you do have some merit however, were it not for the budget cuts I would personally of preferred to keep the previous canteen facilities - That said I would of had to sacrifice another cost aboard the ship, perhaps you would like to volunteer Major? How about 'we trade you', in return for the old canteen? Your salary would easily pay for an entire new dinner-staff."
Synapse said as her thin lips twisted into an amused grin.
Moncha stared back stupidly before bursting into laughter; "Ah-ha, yes, very funny ma'am."
Captain Synapse sighed again, "Indeed, well then, you're dismissed."
With that the woman began to stride proudly back out of the room, nodding to one or two of the other diners who still held salutes in her direction.
Moncha rapidly turned to Falc, "Sorry Miss.Falc, I'll be back in just a moment."
And before she could reply, quickly made his way out after the Captain.
"Ah ma'am, a moment?"
He called to Synapse.
The Captain stopped just outside the doorway, "Yes major?"
Moncha halted alongside her, glancing briefly to check if anyone else was in earshot before his face took on a more serious expression then before;
"About the reports I've been filing--"
"I've made our position very clear Major, there is no debate to be had, Petty Officer Falc will partake in a field test of her machine when we reach Station 9."
"Even if Doctor.Simmens also voices concerns about the test?"
Moncha shot back, a little too triumphantly.
The Captain's expression broke for just a second before she shock her head and stared back defiantly into the Major's eyes - "Indeed, these orders are final - Even if everyone on this ship were to refute them it would be irrelevant - Falc will fly alone, that is final. Command want to know the viability of a Fortress combined with an artificial Magi in a combat situation, we will get them those results, those are our orders - Is that Understood?"
Rather then drop it, Moncha continued to hold his glare with the captain's ice blue pupils;
"Even if I suggested to take command, Captain?"
"Is that a threat Major?"
"On no, of course not Ma'am, however the marine-core on this vessel is under my direct command, as are its pilots - It would behove me as their leader to act in their best interests, that includes what I feel is safest for the Petty officer, whether she's a 'Magi' or not..."
A silent pause feel between the two old soldiers.
Captain Marie Synapse was the first to break it; "I have faith in that girl Moncha, just like my Father always had faith in you did he not?
I trust she will come back just fine, she is going to fight a squadron of Nemo's, nothing more.
So I will also place my faith in you, old friend, not to do anything stupid that we will both regret. Good-day, Major Moncha."
And with that the Captain turned and left the conversation, walking with her usual dignity, hands crossed behind her back, down the endless silver corridors of the TSU-s submarine.
****
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