War: Yeah, I'm not sure how exactly to rehash that. I have confidence that Natalie will open up to Alison if she proves that she cares besides just saying so, and she opens up to her first. We'll see how it pans out. Good communication, though.
There's some nice interactions going on :3---[Steve Svenson]---
Svenson's head shakes. "No, believe me, I have no appetite. Not yet, anyways."
The reinforced threat pushes Steven even farther.
"Look, I get it. You don't trust me. And I don't blame you. But seriously, cut me some slack. My whole family lived on Korhal. Now it's a smoldering piece of ash, as bad as char! Just because I was raised with different values and motivations than the Confederacy, doesn't mean I'm foolish enough to attack my only chance at waking up tomorrow.
"And I know... I can't hold any individual responsible for what's been done to my homeworld..."
The man paused with a sigh. He knew he couldn't hold any confederate soldier personally responsible. They were doing the same thing he signed up to do. Defend his homeland, reap vengeance on the enemy. Only his brother alone, a full blooded Confederate, could have given him this point of view.
"Besides... I haven't fired my handgun since basic training and my hand-to-hand is about the level of a bar brawler. I'm a siege tank driver, remember? I'm used to having duel 80mm PPG-7 plasma cannons and two hundred yards of distance between my enemy and I. This would be way too close and personal for my likings and I won't provoke anything."
Satisfied with his long explanation, Steven took another deep breath and watched Alison for a reaction.---[Natalie Ross]---
Flipping a large horizontal switch, Natalie's side of the dashboard dimmed and Rob's brightened.
"Co-pilots craft." A computerized voice announced. The common transfer didn't disturb the pilot's conversation.
Natalie smiled at Rob's reference to the Silico
"She might be old, but she's gold. I'll take her over a fighter any day. Too frail. Not enough firepower...." Natalie paused a minute to admire the cockpit panels of intricate controls and nobs. "And she can go past her manufactured limits..."
"Anyways, yeah, just clear the blockade, then punch in the coordinates on the navi-computer." Her fingers gestured towards the large holographic monitor between the two pilots.
Suddenly, an automated signal appeared on the co-pilot central monitor.
Friendly targets are locked-on.Five projectiles on intercept course!Projectiles identified: Hurricane Missiles.
The number of projectiles doubled, then tripled, as the Silico
naturally drew closer.