[IC] Worlds of Fire

[KS Pathfinder]

Originally Posted by Totem

The man's face clears and he takes a shuddering breath and opens his eyes. "Okay... Don't make me do this again... I can keep it up as long as you're here, but it won't last if I lose concentration. Remember to change into civvies before I leave."

Remarkably unperturbed by the whole occurrence...

Mark-315 <Aloud>: “My apologies...” Looks at the man sharply. “Wait! You know what I am? We were your best? Who are you?” Leans forward, scrutinising the man sitting before him until a realisation suddenly hits him. “No, it can’t be!? But it is...”

Serena: <Voice in his head> “It is him, memory and data files match.”

Mark-315 suddenly bolts up straight, saluting sharply, armoured boots cracking together. “Sir! Mark-315, Lieutenant, Sentinel-IV, currently MIA, reporting as ordered sir!”

[ErhnamDJ]

Hearing something about sentinels and lieutenants, Douglas scoots his chair forward. Enough he can move his right hand around to one of his big revolvers and not be seen. Quick movements make him jumpy.

[Totem]

Originally Posted by KS Pathfinder

Mark-315 suddenly bolts up straight, saluting sharply, armoured boots cracking together. “Sir! Mark-315, Lieutenant, Sentinel-IV, currently MIA, reporting as ordered sir!”

Wincing, the man looks sharply around the cafe where a few people have turned their attention to the table in curiosity. Mostly in curiosity... A few of the people are looking a bit suspicious, and one of the students is watching the group very carefully.

"Sit. Down." the man says, his tone and pitch of voice twisted into unusual shapes and seeming to reach straight into Mark's nervous system without actually passing through his ears; his knees almost buckle and the seat creaks ominously as he sits down heavily on it, a startled expression on his face at his body betraying him so abruptly.

"Should have insisted on additional covert ops training," the man mutters. "Order something so that you don't look too conspicuous. More conspicuous," he corrects himself.

[KS Pathfinder]

Originally Posted by Totem

"Sit. Down." the man says, his tone and pitch of voice twisted into unusual shapes and seeming to reach straight into Mark's nervous system without actually passing through his ears; his knees almost buckle and the seat creaks ominously as he sits down heavily on it, a startled expression on his face at his body betraying him so abruptly.

"Should have insisted on additional covert ops training," the man mutters. "Order something so that you don't look too conspicuous. More conspicuous," he corrects himself.

Suitably chastised and chooses to ignore the odd circumstances of his reprimand in lieu of meeting someone he recognises for the first time in years and adds more normally.

Mark-315 <Aloud>: “My apologies sir... It’s just that Serena and I have been MIA and lost for some time now, this is the first shred of a lead in getting home. I shall have a large hot chocolate with sugar, please.” After a moment he gets a questioning look, unusually concerned. “How goes the war sir?”

[ErhnamDJ]

Douglas jumps in here. "War?! What war?"

[RogerBW]

Gabrielle is doing her usual social fade (i.e. being overlooked while there are more exciting things going on), but keeping her ears open.

[Totem]

Originally Posted by KS Pathfinder

Suitably chastised and chooses to ignore the odd circumstances of his reprimand in lieu of meeting someone he recognises for the first time in years and adds more normally.

Mark-315 <Aloud>: “My apologies sir... It’s just that Serena and I have been MIA and lost for some time now, this is the first shred of a lead in getting home. I shall have a large hot chocolate with sugar, please.” After a moment he gets a questioning look, unusually concerned. “How goes the war sir?”

Originally Posted by ErhnamDJ

Douglas jumps in here. "War?! What war?"

The man rolls his eyes at the situation. "The one that the Sentinels were built for is what he means. In his home universe. And when I left it was mostly back to peace... The Sentinels did their part and when the Confederation made contact with the Debarin the war with the Kreyt got turned around almost totally. The Kreyt were down to a few colonies that the Debarin were maintaining as havens for them, much to the annoyance of the Confederation I'll add."

He paused for a moment. "It's mostly over now... The Sentinels were almost back to doing what they were designed for originally until I shut the program down and transfered the facilities to the Western Harbour..." He sighs wearily. "Go figure..."

Originally Posted by RogerBW

Gabrielle is doing her usual social fade (i.e. being overlooked while there are more exciting things going on), but keeping her ears open.

The man glances at Gabrielle, as if reminded of something. "Your abilities... I haven't gotten around to reading these files fully yet," he thumps the bag down by his feet with his foot, "but I noticed that they're not natural. Did you volunteer to have them?"

[ErhnamDJ]

"So, he," motioning toward the sentinel, "was built for the war. Now, how do you build a person?

[Dorin Thorha]

Indigo Joe walks in noisily. He's a fairly tall, bearded man, dressed in dirty, tattered clothes, except for his boots and gloves, which are made of expensive-looking tooled leather. A battered felt trilby adorned by a small feather completes his rather incongurous appearance. As he enters he stamps his boots as if to knock off invisible mud. Seeing the table, he strides over.

"Hello, mates! What's the party about?"

He slumps into a seat. "How 'bout some ham and eggs over here?"

[Totem]

Originally Posted by ErhnamDJ

"So, he," motioning toward the sentinel, "was built for the war. Now, how do you build a person?

The man shrugs. "Six to eight months of bitek enhancement, psychological engineering and training... Plus three months psych evaluation period for the Sentinel IVs prior to that to make sure that they were suitable for the work. Earlier versions of the program only went for genetic evaluation..."

Originally Posted by Dorin Thorha

Indigo Joe walks in noisily. He's a fairly tall, bearded man, dressed in dirty, tattered clothes, except for his boots and gloves, which are made of expensive-looking tooled leather. A battered felt trilby adorned by a small feather completes his rather incongurous appearance. As he enters he stamps his boots as if to knock off invisible mud. Seeing the table, he strides over.

"Hello, mates! What's the party about?"

He slumps into a seat. "How 'bout some ham and eggs over here?"

"We've got one more to come, then we can get down to some proper introductions. The food should be over in a minute."