2019-10-22: There Is Nothing New Under The Sun

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  • Log: There Is Nothing New Under The Sun
  • Cast: Loren Voss, Leah Sadalbari
  • Where: Solaris Assyria Base
  • Date: October 22, 2019
  • Summary: Loren arrives at his new area of assignment at the Assyria Base in the Damzen Desert. Leah, naturally, is there to greet him. A concern is raised.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    The more things change, the more they stay the same.

    The week and so on following their departure from Spira had proceeded more or less like the last time. Loren had been treated (the injuries were comparatively much milder this time), he'd been debriefed, he'd spent a few days at home.

    Every time he says it's the last, the universe just has to prove him wrong.

    And then he'd received his assignment.
    He had thought it would be Bledavik.

    It was Assyria Base, in the Damzen Desert.
    Northern Aquavy.

    The more things change...

    But not everything has remained static.

    He lingers in the door of his office -- afforded his rank, now that all the paperwork is cleared. Now that he's back on Filgaia. Hesitantly, he lifts a hand to the nameplate next to the door.

    It's funny. The uniform change didn't do this. The title change didn't do this. Neither did all the paperwork he's been doing prior to his official transfer.

    But something as little as this...

    Now it almost feels heavy on his shoulders.

    And soon he'll be twenty-one. He--

    He lingers there in the doorway, feeling as if the world had briefly tilted on its axis. There was something... important about that birthday...

    He can't remember what it was.

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

There is another saying that has a similar meaning, one that could mean something similar.

'There is nothing new under the sun.'

Leah Sadalbari, too, had had her injuries treated--but truth be told, she was out and about the same day, before her repairs were even complete, against the advice of the doctors to whom she rarely listens in the first place. She keeps them off balance, much as she does most everything else. But here, at Assyria Base, in the Damzen Desert...

A nameplate... by his shoulder. There is something important. And here--the door of his office--

He hears a voice, from behind.

"Quite a lot has happened," the voice says, and it is not obvious who it is at first, in the unfamiliar corridors. ...It will be in just a moment, though.

"The appearance of Sin--your return to Filgaia. Our new asset."

"You appear," Leah, the Watcher says, "To have been making use of the opportunities afforded you."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Lost in thought, he starts when someone -- unseen -- addresses him. His hand drops to hang at his side.

    "Who--"

    He does not immediately turn to look at the speaker. This is far less typical of him.

    But slowly, the speaker makes her presence plain.

    New 'asset', huh. That's one way of putting it.

    He doesn't turn, his gaze focusing instead on some point inside the office, beyond the (for now) clean desk.

    "Opportunities, huh. ...I know I should take that as encouragement," he says, after a moment's silence. "But it still wasn't enough. Even with the Drive. Next time, I..." His right hand curls at his side. He remains like that a moment longer.

    And then he finally turns to face her.

    His gaze lingers on her face at first, his own expression creasing in confusion at her eyepatch. Then his gaze drops downwards. Her right arm. Over to her left. Down to her legs. All the while horror mounts.

    He... when did this happen to her?
    He can remember working on her cybernetics, but when he tries to pursue the memory it slips away, as if he were attempting to recall something he'd dreamt years ago. What part of that was reality?

    What's before him now almost certainly is. So--

    "And... you are alright? Leah?"

    This isn't new. There's no way this is new. But he can't remember when it happened.

    He still looks the part of someone grappling with reality and failing. Even if he tries, vainly, to make small talk.

    "They said... there was a sandstorm today... so..."

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

Leah notices the distinction. Inside the office he looks. And that's fine. But encouragement?

"It was enough," Leah answers, "Because you kept them occupied for long enough. Not every victory will afford you personal glory--our greatest weapon then was the girl Krelian brought to us. 'Lydia', her name is, if you didn't know. ...So long as you learn from your loss, you will have more chance later."

She finishes speaking, and notices his gaze. She looks at him, seeing horror; seeing lingering. Her face, of course--she wears the eyepatch. She has her cybernetics...

"I'm fine," Leah answers--and calculates. He has that look, someone unreal, someone making small talk...

"The repairs were completed quickly," she adds, and then--saying nothing more about it. Instead, she just--bulls on through, like nothing else, relying on social force for the moment.

"Quite," she agrees. "We shouldn't travel in it. Instead, why don't you show me your new office?" she suggests, gesting with her head towards it. "It's a good place for you to tell me what you've been up to, while you were away."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Logically, that is a true statement. All one can hope to do is assist in whatever mission is underway, so that it is completed to satisfaction. Loren knows that -- holds it in high regard in fact -- and yet...

    If he could claim glory, that might be enough to atone.

    But if he cannot...

    Because he cannot...

    "...Understood," he answers, at last.

    Before he turns to look at her. Before...

    "R, right," he says, raising his hands to touch the frames of his glasses.
    They're new. The same model as before, but he'd been able to get a replacement.

    His hand falls away and it would be a sure thing that he might well linger like that until Leah takes control of the situation and--

    "...Oh, yeah. Uh," he hazards, feeling again like a child and not a man of twenty. He steps inside.

    It's small. The way he'd heard it, he was lucky to get an office at all, but someone else had been shuffled to one of the southern installments, to replace someone who had headed up a... vanished squad.
    So in the end, that was that.

    There's a desk. A closet, currently open and empty -- for storage, as the shelving inside suggests. File cabinets (even Solaris can't get away with digital alone, especially when connectivity can fail, and especially when systems can become compromised more readily than analogue). A desktop model of computer, to complement and back up the tablet. More than enough empty shelves in what space is left. A spare chair, awkwardly blocking the empty shelves.

    He doesn't look at Leah. It's hard to look at her, it feels like something in his mind is bending. Instead, he gestures broadly at the room about them. "...This is it. It's pretty empty right now. I never had an office, so I guess... I'll figure it out." Even his room back home wasn't really 'decorated' as it was 'a place to store his things' (games and books).

    If it were-- his brother's there would be--
    plants. It takes effort to trace that thought down that pathway.

    He makes the mistake of glancing at Leah again in aftermath, turning towards her in reflex.

    And there he pauses, once more.

    Before managing to avert his eyes.

    "I guess... you know what the orders from the top are going to be. I haven't heard anything yet."

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

Logically, it's true. But it's not the whole truth. There is... something else, though.

Later...

'Uh' he starts, and Leah doesn't disabuse Loren of that childish feeling, though neither does she particularly reinforce it. Instead, she steps inside, looks around the small room, thoughtfully. Sure, there's not much. But there's a desk, a closet, cabinets.... it is a real office. It is, perhaps, awkward. Nevertheless--

"Yes. It has potential, I think. An office is the start of a lot of further things--never underestimate the fact that you can now talk to people in your territory."

That said she expects it to end up sparse. Still...

He pauses. He averts his eyes. She focuses her single eye.

"Yes," Leah says, "We'll be addressing the matter of Odessa. I'm sure that most of your colleagues will underestimate them. That provides you with an opportunity."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    This is, frankly, the thing -- one of the things if he's being honest -- that drives him nuts when it comes to Leah. He just gets the feeling that when she looks at him, she's still seeing a little kid. That's the problem when someone's known you since your primary school days...

    And, he supposes, he's not... really living up to this whole 'adulthood' thing. Not the way his life is going.
    Not when he's directly caused the deaths of some of his classmates.

    It provokes him again to stop for a moment, the shock of that thought still profound, despite all the years. It's a reminder, though. He has to be careful. He has to--

    "In my territory, huh..."

    When she puts it like that, it does carry its strengths. He's not just someone taking up space in the clinic or in one of the backrooms. And he remembers what it was like to be on the other side of the desk, so to speak.

    He again pauses then, his gaze turned away from her.

    "Odessa..."

    His thoughts are elsewhere, now, away from himself. On the tags he'd retrieved.
    On that log in the tablet.

    "They... got that squad killed," he says, as if to answer that question. "They might be Lambs, but they were still able to do that. And they displaced even him."

    Krelian, that is.

    He turns back to look at her at last. "So you really think they'll be underestimated? After all that?"

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

Maybe she does; leah has that effect on more people than not. ...But his situation perhaps is special. After all... She has known him that long. Nevertheless--

He gets it, the territory. And she nods, until he answers. Odessa--what they were able to do, what they were able to affect...

"Yes," the Watcher says simply, and it is subtle the way it is her experience, not merely an officer's guess. "You will not; the ones who saw it may not. But our greatest weakness is arrogance. That we are the elect, that we are powerful, is precisely why we must guard against complacency."

"We must be above such petty matters, in control of our emotions."

"...So," she continues, "How were your experiences in Spira? Did you sustain any particular injuries over time, before you returned?"

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    On the other hand, though... he can't lie. It feels good -- better? -- that someone is even slightly in his corner.
    Even if he doesn't deserve it, the darker twin to that feeling refrains.

    You murderer...

    His left hand tightens into a fist at his side.

    "...They have resources unusual for those in their situation," he notes, even as she speaks of complacency, of warding against arrogance. "I read about their movements of late back here. It can't be all their own funding. ...And this is too obvious for Shevat."

    How were things on Spira?

    "You mean other than my reports," he says, his gaze actually lingering on her for the moment. Then, once more, he looks away, his gaze on his desk.

    "...Not really. I ended up captured by the Guard on arrival," he explains, "but I surrendered rather than fight. ...I had to swim for the shore after I was transported, and was in no condition for it. I figured it would be more advantageous for a later escape," he goes on, "than getting injured and having to heal on top of everything else."

    It's perfectly well reasoned, by his thinking, but there's still a part of him -- a damn big part of him -- that recoils for the fact that it was necessary to submit. If he were stronger...

    ...or better...

    He shakes his head. "Other than that engagement at the temple in the end... no. We had some interactions with the Guard while we were adhering to Yevon's interests, but nothing..."

    He pauses, then looks back at her at last.

    "...Why are you asking about injuries?"

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

A dark feeling indeed.

"Yes, that's correct," Leah answers. "You realize this--and that's why I personally intend to see your perspective used in this effort. It will be valuable; you've seen them operate, and know full well that those resources can allow them to threaten even our operatives in number." A pause, "...But that's true, too. Where do they get these resources? How did they access what they have? These will be questions we must answer."

Yes. Other than his reports, she says without saying, looking back one-eyed and waiting. Still, he starts to explain...

"Reasonable," she says. "Gather intelligence instead of risking yourself. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised. That was a very measured move in a situation I'd expect you to be more impetuous."

Hmmm. No.

Leah looks over Loren. "Then I suggest once you finish setting up your office, you also familiarize yourself with your quarters--get some extra rest while you handle the paperwork of your new position, before you set out next."

"You seem tired; an injury you tried to work through could explain it, or it could simply be the jet lag." She pauses. "Unless of course there's something unusual in the environment that I've missed? My sensors are less sensitive to some things than standard senses."

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    They're Lambs, and thus nothing. Ultimately, in the end, they're nothing.

    But it gets harder and harder to believe in that statement, the more he loses to surfacedwellers. At least, not whole-heartedly. Not unflinchingly.

    Of course, there is the alternative narrative, the one that even as he is now he still turns his attention from so that it cannot drag him again into the mire and drown him.

    "Yeah," he says instead. "If nothing else, between their numbers, that weird technology they've gotten their hands on, and their resources..."

    And their planning. And their dedication to their ideology.

    Shevat, whatever their flaws, is at least subtle. He can't see them launching a terrorist organization. Particularly not one that would destabilize a number of countries that he's pretty sure Shevat holds a certain interest in staying upright.
    If the rumors are true, that is.

    "...And they declared war against most of the major countries of the world," he continues, "so it can't be one of them... unless that's what they want us to think. ...Ugh," is his summation of this particular twist. This is going to be a pain to work out... they'll need to do some recon.

    To which he does mention: "We have some of their uniforms. But we'll need people who can blend in."

    She's a bit surprised.

    His shoulders... sag. If only for a moment Loren stares into the middle distance as if his soul has departed his body.
    It's to his credit that he's not looking at her during all this.

    And also to his credit that he says nothing even if he bristles like a hedgehog upon recovery, once his gaze returns to her.

    He's not that impetuous... right?

    But when she probes for a potential injury, she gets nowhere. He'd turned in his handwritten reports, and nothing stood out there (other than, perhaps, a mention that van Houten was not dead).
    So not an injury -- at least, none that he's mentioned or reported.

    Which may be why she suggests he get some rest.

    He creases his brow and blinks. "I didn't... I only got here a little while ago," he protests, shaking his head. "And I'm not-- I know better than to do that," he continues, feeling the child for even raising the issue. It's like he's nine and begging Mirza to let him go outside.

    She acts like he's the one acting weird. Lan had been like that, too.
    He averts his eyes.

    "Who knows," is his only answer on the content of the environment of Spira before lapsing into a sullen silence.

    His computer hadn't found anything.

    But he's not going to admit to that. Not when he feels like he's the one being examined here. Like there's something else he's done wrong.
    More than usual. He swallows, feeling as if he's teetering for a moment.

    And that thought, perhaps, is behind the impulse that prompts him to straighten up, square his shoulders and, with one glance her way -- questioning, guarded -- start to head for the door.
    It's petty. He knows it's petty. And a part of him doesn't care.

    "...I'm going. I need to get a head start on that 'paperwork'," he tells her.

    He already finished most of it before even leaving Solaris.

<Pose Tracker> Leah Sadalbari has posed.

Is Leah wrong, about Gazels underestimating lambs, even those of Odessa? She doubts it. ...But she knows; they can't always help it. They have their own parts to play... as does she, hers. It is how it must be.

"Quite."

A pause--and then, "Yes, that wouldn't be much like Shevat at all, for most purposes--though it could be. Imagine it--what could happen, as a result of this assault. What may happen..." She stops, shakes her head. No. Best not to elaborate there. "But mostly, consider where they are, and what we can do to counter them. I've been preparing the time he was away. We have much yet to do."

...Admittedly, one of the benefits of the older sister is a bit of teasing. But it's not just that. There are many reasons to say such a thing. ...And a few to smile, before he looks back, at the fact that he doesn't actually retort immediately.

There is no sign of it, at the matter of his lack of injury--at his protest. Clearly, there is something wrong--his confusion, his disorientation at the possibility that something is unusual confirms that much for Leah, confirms that asking directly will not get her what she seeks. Sullen silence... What he doesn't admit. And then--

Thre. Guarded glance, as he walks out of his own office. She could require him to stay. Instead, "Yes," she answers simply. "Good initiative."

She waits, until she hears his steps echo, and the door closes properly. She waits a few moments after that. And then...

"Intelligence," she speaks into a communicator mounted below her eyebrow, at the upper part of the orbit, a tiny note above her eyelid--underneath the eyepatch. It is part of her mechanical enhancement, naturally.

"I will be requiring a secure channel and surveillance. Authorization 'Watcher'. Subject and purpose need to know. Just prepare the equipment. You don't need to know the details." She murmurs; she doesn't have to be loud.

"...Yes, Grigori," a response comes, audible only to her.

Leah looks at the door a while longer--and then, around the office. "...This could be a problem," she murmurs, and shakes her head.