Alright, so it took her mind a moment to parse that was a severed leg lamp. Both her brows rose minutely, but she kept from commenting on how it was macabrely familiar. Maybe it was her own personal way of displaying one of those ashes of problem student type of decorations.
She couldn't judge, however. She had a screaming husk head in her loft.
Easing, her shoulders spaced back a little, too used to standing at attention to really relax. "I wanted answers, and was compelled enough to do something about it." She wouldn't shy away from calling it reckless, and that was being politically correct. "I was not unaffected by what they're calling the Thanos Virus. But to say it wasn't of my own initiative would be lying." she never could lie well, anyway.
"Got enough fuckin' liars in this city," Hob comments. "Grounds thick with 'em." She doesn't spit, not indoors, but gives the distinct impression that she would if she could. "What'd you learn?"
"That we do," she did agree on that, many of the things here she wasn't entirely sure were truths at all. But if she kept on that line of thought, she'd become unhealthily paranoid.
"There's not much context I could use to piece together what I saw." Her recollection was clear, however, and she gave as concise an answer as she dared. "Props for the holidays, a projector VI, and a calendar. Haptic interface, binary. Spotless. Not somewhere you would find someone. Overall, underwhelming."
Her eyes couldn't help but settle on the leg lamp again. She knew it looked familiar, and it suddenly dawned on her.
"Approach from a different angle," which would make sense to anyone with two braincells to rub together. Commander Ravani wasn't here because she charmed her way up here. "There are still any number of possibilities, not enough to narrow down to a conclusion. More data is necessary."
She wondered if Mal knew his leg was up here. How was it avoiding decay? Perhaps she'd had it properly embalmed. The fact she was nonchalant about that kind of worried her.
"...There was a human film, back in the 20th century, which had a leg lamp in it. Is there something similar here in Sanctum?"
"If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself, sometimes."
One brow lowered at the offer to take a closer look, but her curiosity was stronger than her restraint in this respect, and she nodded, craning her head to look as she approached.
The moment she realizes it's not full of gore or, in fact, a human leg, she straightens and fights back the urge to chuckle. And here, she'd been convinced that anyone involved with Bifrons was potentially evil reincarnate. She had come here, herself to see what Commander Ravani was like, and she was not entirely convinced she had sold her soul to Bifrons.
"Casualties should be avoided if at all necessary. Even with volunteers, I don't carry the same jurisdiction here as I did as a Spectre or commander in the Alliance Navy. Commanding lives is a privilege, not a right."
"Cupcake, your jurisdiction here is precisely fuck all. You decide to go adventurin' again, you are treadin' on my dick. I hear y'all didn't really care for what happened the last time."
Pointed look at the severed leg armor.
"Now, you want to be a team player, mayhap there's sommat to talk about. But you wanna go play hero with your friends and cause trouble for all of us, not just Bifrons, we're gonna rumble. Loose canons don't do nothin' but hurt good folk that don't fuckin' deserve it, and there's been too much of that shit goin' on."
Being a team player had never been a problem. She'd fought and succeeded on uniting the galaxy to fight a common enemy. But that also meant 'fuck all' here, so she kept that to herself. "You're right," what was more important here was protecting the natives and the Immune brought here against their will.
"And I don't want to hurt good people, I want to help them. It's not an excuse, but if not for Thanos' influence, none of that would have happened." She turned to face the commander again, "we're just fortunate that our adventure didn't escalate to hurt more people than we did."
It bothered her, to be so easily influenced like that, used to being in full command of her will and intentions. But that wasn't what they were talking about, "What did you have in mind, commander?"
"You want to come in and stop bein a loose cannon, we can talk. Means holdin you're nose about the paycheck, but it ain't no sin to take a bad man's money and do good with it." She doesn't have a good enough sense yet, on if she can trust this one with the plan early. But really, she wants people like North, who see the mission and agree without needing the details, or people like Tex, who ask the right questions and know their path is back into the army.
"Otherwise, you keep your nose clean, because I will not hesitate to aim the full force of my company at anyone who has grand ideas about makin a statement when those grand ideas come with a noncombatant body count or will get another hole put in everyone's brains. You hearin' me?"
One thing she could rely on Shepard for was to avoid hurting people and lending a hand when it was needed. She would question missions, would constantly examine if it was the right thing, never comfortable with just following orders, even if she understood the means. "What sort of work are we talking about?"
They could at least agree their mutual interest was to avoid hurting innocents. She could work with that. But she had the impression she wasn't being trusted, and that was fine. She knew who she was, and in time, Ravani would, too. Earning trust wasn't something she was new to.
"So long as we're not hurting good people, I'm willing to take up your offer on that." She had applied to the militia fairly close to her arrival, but the lack of response was answer in and of itself.
Still, despite Mal's very emphatic warnings against the commander, if her interests were keeping good people out of trouble, she could get behind that. To make up for the mistake that could have gone a lot worse.
"I am," he morality was one of the make-or-break checks when following orders. If it didn't match up with what was morally correct, she would refuse. Always refused, unless something larger was at stake. Those were the tough decisions you had to just live with, after that.
"I'm listening," no sense in jumping to conclusions, here. The commander hadn't actually made Mal's leg into a lamp, just the armor. Something had to be said for that.
"Ain't much to discuss. You get an order you consider unlawful, you got the right to refuse. And if I agree, I'll go to bat for you. If I don't, you twist in the wind. I ain't in the business of lettin' my soldiers just play pick'n'choose with what they like."
"Fair enough," Shepard had been a commander long enough to know that morality was a grey area on occasion, but it was nice to know that while Ravani wouldn't accept bullshit, she'd fight for what she thought was right. Enough to relax a bit and offer a slight smile.
"Do your intake papers today, you start at reveille tomorrow." She considers. This one took a long time to come in, and she's not sure about the trust issue yet. She's got the skills, but... hell. The last person Hob promoted to Specialist had been Foster, and she wasn't too impressed with her own decision in hindsight. More caution. "Come in as a private, same as everyone else. You prove up, I'll jump you up to Specialist in short order."
Shepard would rather go through the motions of proving herself, anyway. Even if it was disappointing, she wasn't from here, so her commander rank wasn't either. She-- would have to adjust her introduction. She stood straighter and saluted, a motion honed through years of use. "Yes sir." Call it a form of atonement for the Thanos incident? She remained at attention, waiting to be dismissed, if she was going to be. Work to be done, and all that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She couldn't judge, however. She had a screaming husk head in her loft.
Easing, her shoulders spaced back a little, too used to standing at attention to really relax. "I wanted answers, and was compelled enough to do something about it." She wouldn't shy away from calling it reckless, and that was being politically correct. "I was not unaffected by what they're calling the Thanos Virus. But to say it wasn't of my own initiative would be lying." she never could lie well, anyway.
no subject
no subject
"There's not much context I could use to piece together what I saw." Her recollection was clear, however, and she gave as concise an answer as she dared. "Props for the holidays, a projector VI, and a calendar. Haptic interface, binary. Spotless. Not somewhere you would find someone. Overall, underwhelming."
Her eyes couldn't help but settle on the leg lamp again. She knew it looked familiar, and it suddenly dawned on her.
no subject
"So what ya goin' to do about it?"
no subject
She wondered if Mal knew his leg was up here. How was it avoiding decay? Perhaps she'd had it properly embalmed. The fact she was nonchalant about that kind of worried her.
"...There was a human film, back in the 20th century, which had a leg lamp in it. Is there something similar here in Sanctum?"
no subject
Hob smirks.
"Sommat like. Go ahead and take a closer look, if'n you want."
No severed leg in the armor. It's full of candy now.
no subject
One brow lowered at the offer to take a closer look, but her curiosity was stronger than her restraint in this respect, and she nodded, craning her head to look as she approached.
The moment she realizes it's not full of gore or, in fact, a human leg, she straightens and fights back the urge to chuckle. And here, she'd been convinced that anyone involved with Bifrons was potentially evil reincarnate. She had come here, herself to see what Commander Ravani was like, and she was not entirely convinced she had sold her soul to Bifrons.
"Casualties should be avoided if at all necessary. Even with volunteers, I don't carry the same jurisdiction here as I did as a Spectre or commander in the Alliance Navy. Commanding lives is a privilege, not a right."
no subject
Pointed look at the severed leg armor.
"Now, you want to be a team player, mayhap there's sommat to talk about. But you wanna go play hero with your friends and cause trouble for all of us, not just Bifrons, we're gonna rumble. Loose canons don't do nothin' but hurt good folk that don't fuckin' deserve it, and there's been too much of that shit goin' on."
no subject
"And I don't want to hurt good people, I want to help them. It's not an excuse, but if not for Thanos' influence, none of that would have happened." She turned to face the commander again, "we're just fortunate that our adventure didn't escalate to hurt more people than we did."
It bothered her, to be so easily influenced like that, used to being in full command of her will and intentions. But that wasn't what they were talking about, "What did you have in mind, commander?"
no subject
"Otherwise, you keep your nose clean, because I will not hesitate to aim the full force of my company at anyone who has grand ideas about makin a statement when those grand ideas come with a noncombatant body count or will get another hole put in everyone's brains. You hearin' me?"
no subject
They could at least agree their mutual interest was to avoid hurting innocents. She could work with that. But she had the impression she wasn't being trusted, and that was fine. She knew who she was, and in time, Ravani would, too. Earning trust wasn't something she was new to.
no subject
no subject
Still, despite Mal's very emphatic warnings against the commander, if her interests were keeping good people out of trouble, she could get behind that. To make up for the mistake that could have gone a lot worse.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"When should I report for duty?"
no subject
no subject
no subject