Gender: Trans Woman
Occupation: High Executive Tactician of the Terra Army
The map lay before her, projected from the table that sat in the middle of her room. Laid before her was a view of the colony of Arcadia, the center of Terran military training. It sat flanked by chasms to its north and south. To the east there was a marker simply labeled “threat”.
“Now you see Chancellor, the Academy has been reporting strange sightings to the east. No one has been sent to investigate it, and any drone sent to fly over comes back either with an empty recording log, or is destroyed before it can make it back.” Medrid told the woman who was being holo-projected opposite of her.
Medrid pushed several buttons on the panel in front of her. The map zoomed in on the mystery zone and several different holo-structures formed a ring hovering about the center. Medrid spun the buildings around and one by one they took the place of the missing part of the map. She stopped on each and gazed at them as if a lock was upon her lips and they might hold the key. The Chancellor squinted and found herself fixating on Medrid’s mouth as she thought. She moved her lips between her teeth the way someone would knead dough.
“High Tactician Medrid, it appears as if you have a thought you’re trying to work out. Care to share?” the Chancellor interrupted her as she started to jot down notes in her journal.
Medrid did not respond. Her hand continued to mark down her thoughts as they came. The handwriting was loosely classifiable as such and it kept any one orientation for no more than a few seconds. The Chancellor sat in silence as she waited for her trusted officer to finish. Soon enough Medrid stood up and straight and let her gaze meet the Chancellor’s.
“To answer your question Lallila….. I mean Chancellor. The behavior we’ve noticed in regard to our attempts to gather information as well as the nature of the area in which it must preside is giving me nothing to work with. But such little to work with that I’d reckon it may be something we’ve not dealt with before. Either a group we have not dealt with before has taken up residence; or our known enemies have acquired some kind of new technology.”
“Is that your official report then Medrid?” The Chancellor retorted.
“Yes m’am, my professional opinion is that we are indeed dealing with a new threat.”
Both women went silent and the Chancellor gazed off away from the screen as Medrid found herself fixating on the other woman’s eyes. Such calmness and resolution sat within those eyes. As Lallila brought her attention back to the conversation, the tactician continued with her thought.
“We need to get Arnochor involved. They always have a plethora of knowledge on experimental technology that no one else on this world does. I’ll send a meeting request to them for later this evening. We can host it in the Centuria Hall. I assume you’ll meet me there and bring along anyone you deem necessary?”
“Fair idea High Tactician, I’ll send you the time of the meeting later on. Are there any other insights I should know of?”
“The only one of note has to do with a requisition request I received yesterday that felt rather odd. This is doubly so since the requested action has no tactical purpose or any other kind.”
“Send it over to my office then. I’ll take a look at it later. Council concluded. May Grace Befall Centuria.”
And with that the screen clicked off. She looked down at the request paperwork in front of her. It called for 30 squadrons. That number isn’t too unusual for front line reinforcements or small assault missions. But for a reconnaissance mission in unknown territory? That’s more than necessary and enough to require further inquiry.
Medrid began to fiddle with the map in front of her. The unknown sector burned in her mind like a ship caught in the gravitational pull of Fornax 2MAX2. The summit later in the day would have to bring forth any bit of solid information it could. She shuddered at the thought of being stuck in the dark on this for any lasting period of time. An armed guard stepped into her chamber and saluted.
“High Tactician, I have a message for you. The sender has given no identification other than the phrase ‘5 Giants Dancing on the Brink of Calamity’. Do you wish to read it ma’am?” The guard informed her.
“Yes yes, bring me a paper copy and a glass of galipher tea. I know exactly who sent that.”
She walked over to the desk in the corner and plopped into the seat, propping her feet up on the desk. The guard hustled off to grab her requested items as she dimmed the room’s lights and flipped on the lamp next to her.