trans_9 | Exhaustion!

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Exhaustion!

After fighting in a massive planetary battle -- well, less 'fighting' and more 'healing people, occasionally from literal death' -- the Akashic was, in a word, exhausted.

Not necessarily physically; regardless of how grueling shifts in Medbay might be at the moment, he made a point to stick to his schedule, sleep plenty, eat (ugh) enough gruel, and keep his body in shape. Not necessarily mentally either; good health and self-care, along with meditation and discipline, helped in that matter as well.

There was just a certain level of core, deep, ground-in exhaustion that couldn't be banished that easily, though. So that left only one thing to do for the best relaxation:

Snowboard in the sensorium.

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"The connection? They were a crew member, here, the same as all of us. I don't know that too much more is needed." He shook his head. Having not put much effort into grieving himself, he nevertheless understood the connection. And the feeling that it could have been any of them.

She shrugged, that wasn't enough, not to someone who had been practically bred for war. A loss is a loss yes, but to simply think of it as a moment to grieve for everyone just wasn't for her. Maybe if she had grown close to them.

"I understand, it must have been painful for his loved ones." that, she could understand.

"For everyone, more or less. The attitude that it could have been any one of us, easily," he said. "Moreover, the fact that it was a sacrifice..."

She frowned, "There's no such thing as sacrifice in war. Only duty. It's the duty of the soldiers to give their all for the success of the mission. Had the crew member not carried through with it, another would have surely done so. And if not? Then we had already lost the war before it started."

Sacrifice, she disliked that word, specially when it came to organizations like hers. That word didn't exist, it was do or don't, there were no martyrs, there were no heroes, only the good and the bad Pandoras.

"That's not such an easy question to answer, though," Morgan said. "It's easy to decide a suicide run is the answer, and maybe it solves the short-term problem, but what about the long? Sure, the Firewyrm fell, but not without some emotional damage to the crew that was left behind, and who knows what will happen in the future that might have been prevented or ameliorated if the sacrifice hadn't been made? Was there another way that it could have gone, some other method that wouldn't have cost a life?

"We'll never know the answers to those questions, only what ended up happening," he said quietly. "That can be rough."

"I suppose if you're not willing to accept the outcome. At the present moment, considering the other options before the action occurred could have made it so that no one survived. One life in exchange for many. I'm not going to tell people not to mourn, that would be inhumane of me but as far as the war's concerned, we do the honorable duty he did a disservice by not moving forward and planning so that we may continue being ahead of our enemy."

She sighs, not knowing why she was voicing her opinion so openly with someone she had only spoken to a few times... not that she knew anyone on the ship, but that had always been the case for the Untouchable Queen.

"I don't think there should ever be a question of willingness to accept death," he said, absently reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow. "We should always do our damndest to prevent death, of any sort. That doesn't mean we always can, though. Sometimes we have to accept that."

She nodded, managing a sideglance as she looked curiously at his actions... What was he doing? It's not like it was any of her concern! But it reminded her of looking through the window at the other kids playing in the snow...

Judging by the way he's patting the snow into a ball, he was... well, making a snowball. But instead of at her, he just pitched it off into the distance, as far as he could throw it.

She wasn't one to question what people did and why, but she definitely looked at the snowball curiously, even as it flew away. She imagined it was fun, considering she remember the kids her age being happy when playing with snow.

"You look like you've never seen a snowball before," he said, glancing back to her.

The comment caught her off guard and she looked away, a very slight blush forming on her cheeks. "That's... that's not it. I saw plenty of them, specially when the children in the neighborhood would go out to play during Winter..." She wouldn't go into how she wasn't allowed to go play with them.

"Saw? But didn't get to throw any yourself?"

He glanced at her, then down to the snow -- then back up to her with a smile. "I think you should start."

She shook her head at the first question, "I wasn't allowed outside... master's orders..." she frowned, looking away for a moment before turning back surprised at the latter.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"Just what I said. Grab some snow and start throwing! It's never too late to have a happy childhood, they say." He scooped up another double handful himself.

Satellizer frowned, she'd been taught to leave all that behind. Her priorities where to the Pandoras. Fight and train to get stronger so they could defeat the Novas. That hadn't changed, the enemy was the only thing that did...

But something inside her compelled her to try it at least once... Maybe it was her lost innocence...

No. This wasn't the time or place... They were in a war... She couldn't let her guard down, not now, not ever.

"No thanks. I'll pass. But do enjoy yourself Sir Knight."

"Fair enough," he said, sounding quite casual. "What do you like to do for fun, though?"

He had a vague suspicion as to what the answer was, for all that he'd posed it as a throwaway thought.

Why in all the heavens she thought, did she let it slip? Maybe she was tired? Exhausted? Maybe she wasn't thinking? But it was too late, the words where already slipping past her mouth before she could stop herself...

"Knitting...."

She paused, looking back at him over her shoulder ~~as a tumbleweed rolled on by carried by a dramatic breeze~~ with a blank expression, a blush quickly rising to her cheeks before she turned away to hide it.

"Oh, really?" He didn't see anything blush-worthy or mockable about that. She looked like a tough sort of girl, so maybe it was a bit surprising, but knitting in and of itself was not shameful at all. "That must be a bit frustrating here, with so few supplies."

"It can be..." she spoke, for the first time seeming... a bit timid. Specially with the way she was fidgeting with the hem of her uniform.

"I'll just get some on our next v-venture out to a planet..."

She hoped to anyways.

"I hope so. Out of curiosity, have you met with Rein or Rarity on the ship?" he said. He wasn't going to draw attention to her nervousness; that wouldn't accomplish much. "They're our clothiers and fashionistas here."

And she appreciated it involuntarily. She really disliked being put on the spot. "I've spoken with Miss Rein, she had said something about some clothing classes, but I haven't heard any further announcement over the communications network. Maybe she's been busy."

"I wish one of my friends was here, she was great with clothes," Morgan said, mostly to himself. "Oh, you should try looking up Rarity too. Assuming you have no problems with talking ponies, of course, but then again, why would anyone?"

She was about to say something back when the latter comment caught her off guard. "Ponies?" She asked confused. "I'm not a horse whisperer. And why would I ask one in the first place?"

"Because Rarity is damn good at making clothes! She made me some for the space-prom thing, they were pretty magnificent." Morgan had missed the 'horse whisperer' reference, or not gotten it. "And besides, she already has a studly male model," he said, pointing at himself slyly, "but I bet she could use a hot female one."

Exhaustion!

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