Log:Resistance: PostOp Fallout pt 2
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A RolePlay Log by | |
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Title |
PostOp Fallout Pt 2 |
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Date |
Sunday 04/March/2018 |
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IC Date |
Atunda 26/Selona/1158 |
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Location |
RAF Renegade |
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Appearing |
Sar Yavok Sapphira Yavok & Ambrosia Greystorm |
This scene follows the scene linked here: http://www.swaoa-mush.com/wiki/Log:Resistance:_PostOp_Fallout_pt_1
Things are sorta hushed in the reception area. Machines still hum and personnel's fingers still fly about typing reports and relaying data, but the usual banter's dried up. Why so serious? Some news footage has been snared the last 24 hours and it's not helping to allay the slow simmer already brewing under Greystorm's skin. She's sequestered herself away here for a few hours to collect final thoughts, taking advantage of a small, quiet interview room and it's knowledge of that hidden, angry presence lurking somewhere around their work stations that has young personnel on edge.
When she did come out it was to send a summons for Colonel Yavok and since then, she's been sitting on the edge of the interview table, inspecting and reinspecting the same cuffs and shine of belt buckle for lack of else to fuss with. Except for the datapad, which is active and on the tabletop, airing the silent clip over and over.
Looking all spiffy in his freshly-acquired /actual/ Resistance uniform (hey, things have been hard and pennies have been pinched since Nar Shaddaa, okay), Colonel Yavok steps into the security room. A few soldiers stop what they're doing, stand, and salute him before he waves them off and moves to the interview room he sees the General sitting in. "Looks like you're about to interrogate me, General," Sar says, lifting a salute to her.
Sapphira found Sar on the way up, and deciding to see what all the fuss is about (and complain about her own uniform is too tight in the neck, looks stupid, and has terrible colors) she follows along. None of these complaints make it into the General's office, however, for Sapphira - or Private Yavok, should we say - hangs back and out of the way. You know, so maybe she can dodge whatever flak might accidently come her way.
"Do I need to?" Ambrosia remains as is, hands growing very still as she locks an upward stare on the arrived Yavok. "I've read your report. I've read Delede's. And while I did not expect it, I did receive a third. I've read them all." Hooray, literacy! "What's been most interesting is comparing your words "escaping FO forces" with this." And she tips the datapad up at a slight angle with a single finger to improve his ease of viewing. "And with the girl's testimony. Granted she is not as vetted in the art of war as you or I, so I attributed some of her emotional response to being the girl she is, but...Sar."
Her brows twitch, mouth closing into a grim line. "Tell me what I'm seeing."
"You're seeing me leaving out the part where that /girl/ put me in the position to have to make that call," Sar says, grimly to the General, moving to read over the datapad. "Looks like she wasn't as forgiving as I was," he says, lips curving into a frown.
His eyes move to rest on Amber, and he says, "I regret what happened. It's not what I /wanted/ to happen, but she barged in and laid our hand down on the table in front of enemy forces. You know good and well what had to be done in that situation."
Sapphira's here, standing at some form of attention that's likely not near to perfect. She coughs lightly, but otherwise remains a fly on the wall.
Ambrosia's crowsfeet crinkle even more, then she sends a swift glance down to the datapad to see what it is he...oh. Whoops. She sighs and flips the file over to the footage of bridge crew being 'released' from the bridge. "Don't you put their deaths on her. What do you suppose they thought we WERE there for?! Recent acquisition of our General considered. Even if they were too dense to put our assault on their vessel into context, they would have still reported the incident to their Commanders. There was another option, Colonel. One that'd have their brains here, ripe for the picking, instead of dead and useless on that floor. They weren't resisting. We could have held them until the General was returned to our custody, then jettisoned them off to some far flung corner of the galaxy where they might spend the next many months hitchhiking a ride home. But what we have instead, is a mess. One that I'M going to be held accountable for, Force willing, should we get her back."
Sapphira's cough draws a sharp look from Amber. "I'm glad you've decided to join us, Private Yavok. Saves me the leg work."
"We didn't have the time or the manpower to corale them onto Dosk's ship. That ship was coming down around our ears," Sar says, leaning with his palms atop the table. "And I /can/ hold her responsible for it. She's not a soldier. Sapphira over there has more say in what we do and when we do it than she does. She should've stood there and kept her mouth /shut/. I agree that my actions were extreme, but in the moment, with that curveball she threw me, it was the only resolution I could muster."
Sapphira can't keep a skeptical look from her face as the conversation goes on, but it falls quickly into one of a deer-in-the-headlights look when her name is called upon. "Leg work, ma'am? Is there ... something I can get for you?" Because Sapphira gets it. Private=Gopher. She's ready to go'fer whatever it is that Amber needs. One just hopes it isn't Sapphira's own ass for the chewing.
You had the manpower to blast your way through to the Bridge, I imagine you might have figured something out. If they did get squirrely and pose a threat en route to evac, then a bolt right between the eyes would've sufficed. How long did it take for the Oxygen to be vac'd from that space, then be restored to adequate levels for your return to the Codru Dream?" In opposition to Sar's lean forward, Amber stands her smaller self up with that stick-up-her-ass posture.
"I've spoken with Rey about mission protocol and chain of command and strongly advised her to look to superior officers for instruction before blindly following intuition, 'different' as hers might be. She /is/ an asset." Another glance to Sap, "Green, yes, but an asset. Have you forgotten what she can do? We could have used her less lethal approach against that bridge crew." Coulda shoulda woulda....it is all water under the bridge.
"But there's no changing things now. All's left is damage control."
"Thirty seconds each way," Sar says, grinding his teeth and looking at the woman. He stands up straight again and moves to stand at parade rest, showing Sapphira how it's done. "Is there anything further, General?" he asks, hoping that Amber remembers how busy of a man he is.
Sapphira hasn't quite managed that lock-stand, nor the ability to keep her thoughts off her face. She wrinkles her nose slightly in displeasure, but it's slight. She's getting better, okay? She's not perfect! Amber will be privy to the view of Sapphira watching Sar, and trying to mimic what the man does a little better. It'd be kind of cute if not for, you know. War.
"Thirty seconds..." Ambrosia muses, for no other purpose maybe than to give herself added time to muster up the gumption for what comes next. She watches the two of them for a moment, then folds arms over chest and nods once. "Your rank. We can't afford to be seen as monsters, anymore. Not through eyes within, not through eyes /looking/ in. The message must be clear." She reaches into pocket and pulls out a Lt Colonel patch and offers it up in palm.
"There are many worlds yet to be visited with appeal to join us in the fight. How many do you think will be keen to do so today?" So that's it, then. A demotion. "If and when General Skywalker returns, we will revisit the matter and I will defer to her judgement, but until then, your patch." Her other hand motions for Sapphira to come closer, in the meantime.
"I'm starting to think you enjoy this part, General," Sar says, reaching up to tear the Colonel patch from his right breast. He tosses it onto the table and reaches to grab his new one. He's mostly pissed because he's really bad at sewing. But hey, that's why he's got Maeve. "Is /that/ all?"
Sapphira has no patch to give! She barely exists her as it is! With slightly wide eyes as she regards the back of Sar's head, the readhead moves forward. "So, uh," she finally speaks. "I can catch a ride back to Nar, if that's what you're thinking. You don't need to jettison me or anything." Because that doesn't sound fun.
"No one's getting a tour of the airlock," Amber growls. "Not today. That's all, LtC. I've given Black Squadron the go-ahead to follow up on intel recovered, see if the Finalizer is indeed still there. I'm not placing any bets. Go fix your uniform." IS she enjoying this? She doesn't look to be enjoying anything right now, what with bags under the eyes testifying to another sleepless night. The discarded patch gets pocketed away.
The datapad by her hip continues to play out its silent horror as she turns to level a 'mom' look on Sar's 'daughter'. "As for you. I hope you realize you do /not/ speak for the whole of the Resistance, when you insinuate the Jedi weren't worth - aren't worth having around. I dunno what your personal beef with them might've been - frankly I think you're too young to have experienced much ill by their hand - but the only reason we still stand here today is because of that girl. Were it not for her timing and /creation/ of a way out, we'd all have died in that hole on Crait. Still be rotting there in the salt today. I recognize you wanna jump to Daddy's defense and support his reprimand of the girl, but that ain't your place." Nostrils flared, she straightens out of the little forward lean acquired and twists around to reclaim her datapad from desk. "Dismissed."
"Let's just hope there's no cameras around the next time /you/ execute a noncombatant, General," Sar says with a hint of 'I learned it from watching you'. "Thank you for your time," he adds, stuffing the new rank patch into his pocket and moving to make his exit.
Sapphira sets her jaw. Oh, she so wants to back talk. In the absolute worst way. But she doesn't, however much she must really, really want to. Instead, when she's told she's dismissed? She turns and heads out the automatic door. She almost bumps into Sar, but lets him go first, and then grumbles her way on after him.
