Not the Shepard bothers replying because the door's open and she's almost there. It'd take more effort to text back than it would to just lengthen her stride, pack thumping against her hip as she goes - takes the steps up to the rover hatch in one go and opens the door.
She hauls herself up - dumps her shit unceremoniously on the floor of the rover.]
[ Parker is texting while pacing back and forth, grabbing some stuff and shoving it in her bag as she does. Stops for a second when Shepard walks in, gives her a look, then goes back to doing the pack up and mass texting and basically overworking herself as always.
She doesn't reply right away and whatever text she has just received has her arching her eyebrows. Meets Shepard with a frown. ]
Red Team can't find Dagger. [ Which usually she wouldn't give a second thought, but with the whole evacuation going down, she hardly thinks it's a coincidence.
[She makes a low noise, bitter in the back of her throat, as she moves to start collapsing down the rover's unfolding table and benches - does it automatically even if this isn't her space. There are some basic tenants to lashing down for a storm, proverbial or otherwise, and she might not know where any of the crap in the rover goes, but she can make sure it's basic components are on lock down.]
Sounds about right.
[Because it's not like the instructors haven't made a habit of being missing at the most inconvenient times. To her mind, it's less coincidence and more par for the course. Armada and Warriorhead disappearing during the recent drop and stampede, Gliese hibernating through ninety percent of the bullshit the crew gets run through - honestly, is there anything odd about finding out Dagger's missing for this?]
[ While she doesn't say anything or even seems to acknowledge Shepard's help, Parker is thankful for it as she continues to busy herself trading texts left and right, trying to gather information, and packing up what's left of her things - and leaving some things out, like her weapons and helmet (which she won't be needing, but so far all of Macha has been trying to kill them, so she would rather not risk it).
She does, however, make a small sound in the back of her throat when Shepard makes her comment, frowning. Instructors have the capacity of turning off their trackers and Parker wishes she could do the same. She knows she's being watched all the time, but damn her if it doesn't make it worse the constant feeling of being tailed.
Shoving the Blackglass in her back pocket, she goes to help Shepard unfolding the benches, focused frown as she does - not because of the collapsible furniture, but the situation. ]
I don't like this. [ She flickers her eyes up to Shepard. ] We get a new arrival and next thing you know, HQ issues an evacuation order.
[ She means Honey, but she would rather avoid names. She is also talking with the little pieces they have, trying to make them fit together - speaking with Warriorhead, reading over the network posts, it made it clear Honey was here because she came from some important family (and Parker knew all too well how easy it was to get access to high ranks when you had a name behind you) but clearly a nuisance to the Instructors. And if that's the case, maybe HQ has a more attentive eye on the Neheda than it used to because of the half-Selenian presence. ]
Edited (dw ate part of my reply wtf) 2015-05-14 11:10 (UTC)
Our new friend dropped in weeks ago. [She's not saying there isn't a line to be drawn from point A to point B, just that it's possibly a too convenient one.] It could be anything - tech failure, maybe another company bought the contract on the planet. [Which is speculation, but no more so than Parker's theory.] If it was a personnel issue, why wouldn't they just deal with the individuals?
[Because there's sure as hell a history of that. But at it's most basic there's no heat or edge to what Shepard says as she collapses the legs of the bench, folds it up into its compartment with Parker's help and secures it there. No way to refine an idea without someone asking you to defend it, right?]
[ It's very easy to see that Parker disagrees, the way her eyebrows wrinkle her forehead, the slight pull of her lip and narrowing of her eyes. Convenient to Shepard, too much of a coincidence for Parker and she doesn't believe it at all, not to mention taking in what she knows, what she keeps trying to dig around, it adds to the puzzle. ]
Are you serious? [ She finally speaks after a pause. ] The last time HQ issued an order it was to inform us of the Almina's discharge.
[ And she uses the word discharge cold, bitter and biting, as if mirroring on of the Instructors (or rather, her interpretation of them). ]
I'm not saying it's a personnel issue. I'm saying things are changing.
[She wasn't around for the Almina. Doesn't know shit about the last time HQ issued an order directly. If the revelation catches her by surprise, it doesn't show.]
Yeah. We're getting off this rock.
[Clipped and curt, pointed in that it's the only thing any of them know for certain. Anything else - like most everything - is speculative at best, bullshit at worst. Shepard slams the compartment shuts around the bench, clears some minutiae from the table and moves to store that too.]
[ Parker's eyes narrow in annoyance to her clipped answer and she sets her jaw, clearly irritated. Shepard, she is aware of, is a woman of action, but as far as she knows, she's also used to have a streamlined chain of command and one she's usually on top of. Maybe having to squeeze answers out of nothing is not her best quality, but Parker can't bring herself to believe she doesn't care.
But she wonders what exactly does she want from it in the end.
She watches her slam the bench shut and clenches her jaw. ]
Of course not. [Crisp and sharp like the edge of a knife. She doesn't look at Parker as she raises the second bench, slides loose the joint holds and folds it back into its compartment.] But if something's going down, someone is listening. I don't know about you, but I'm not running my mouth right when someone else is probably waiting for it to happen.
[Blunt, but she doesn't know any other way to say it. Any theories she has - or John has, or Parker has or Steve goddamn Rogers has - are just houses built without any foundation. The difference is the rest of them are up off the beach; she's down on the sand, neck deep in suspicion as it is.
She clips the compartment straps around the folded bench, shuts the panel.]
[ There's a second she's just staring before she frowns. ]
They always are.
[ Listening, watching, controlling. It doesn't matter if there's a crisis going down or if it's sunny and the rainbow's out; they will always be watching. Parker knows that much, even if sometimes she wishes she didn't. Sometimes she doesn't think about it. But most of the time, it's a creeping feeling in the back of her head.
Parker picks up Shepard's bag and pushes it in her own locker, keeps it safe there and makes sure everything that needs to be tied is secured. ]
Well, when it's more convenient to you, don't hesitate in sharing.
[ Which sounds like a prissy little princess, but it's more because Parker trusts Shepard (to a point) and she's willing to share everything with her and doesn't really like being told to wait. ]
[It's so fundamentally short sighted from a girl stubbornly playing the long game that it almost makes Shepard laugh, cruel and vicious, but she bites her teeth down on it, wrestles the urge back where it came from and forgets it. She's spent weeks being mad and suspicious and on her heels and can't go back to that point. Not over something like this.
So instead she takes a full step back from the furniture compartments, from the topic of conversation.]
Good.
[Clipped and brusque, agreeing to what is obviously an attempt to bait her and cutting Parker down (or off) in the process. And just as quickly, a topic change, eager to leave the rest of this bubbling on some back burner for the time being:]
[ Shepard's answer unmistakeably annoys her, easy to see in the way she curls her lips and presses them in a flat line like if she has swallowed a lemon, but she doesn't say anything about it. Just gives her an unfriendly look, eyebrows low, creasing her forehead, before she steps aside from the compartments finally put aside.
To avoid the conversation escalating, and to keep her focus on the current evacuation situation, Parker heads over to her bunk without a word, picking up her handgun she had been cleaning. Checks to see if it's all good and straps it to its leg holster, back turned to Shepard.
The question makes her groan a little, nose scrunched up - not because of the driver himself, but rather the fact she's not it. Always such an annoying thing about driving. ]
Moreau. [ She says as she grabs her helmet, wiping the visor on her clothes carefully. ] He's one of yours, right?
[And that's a weight off her shoulders. She won't have to worry about getting somewhere on time or in one piece with him behind the wheel. Can't say the same for half the rovers - how many assigned drivers even knew how to operate their rover? - but that's officially something she doesn't have energy to worry about. Instead she moves, catching the strap of her kit and hefting it off the ground. Pops one of the rover's side compartments and shoves it into the narrow space available. If they're going to be rattling around, she doesn't need her crap sliding from one end of the vehicle to the other.
Clicks the compartment shut and-- pauses then. Takes a breath and flicks her attention back to Parker.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
FROM: parker@cdc.org
this is not protocol, from what i was told. hasn't happened in a long time, by the sounds of it.
FROM: parker@cdc.org
door's open.
no subject
'By the sounds of it?'
no subject
warriorhead told me this has never happened to him.
no subject
Not the Shepard bothers replying because the door's open and she's almost there. It'd take more effort to text back than it would to just lengthen her stride, pack thumping against her hip as she goes - takes the steps up to the rover hatch in one go and opens the door.
She hauls herself up - dumps her shit unceremoniously on the floor of the rover.]
Well this is fun.
no subject
She doesn't reply right away and whatever text she has just received has her arching her eyebrows. Meets Shepard with a frown. ]
Red Team can't find Dagger. [ Which usually she wouldn't give a second thought, but with the whole evacuation going down, she hardly thinks it's a coincidence.
Parker never thinks it is. ]
no subject
Sounds about right.
[Because it's not like the instructors haven't made a habit of being missing at the most inconvenient times. To her mind, it's less coincidence and more par for the course. Armada and Warriorhead disappearing during the recent drop and stampede, Gliese hibernating through ninety percent of the bullshit the crew gets run through - honestly, is there anything odd about finding out Dagger's missing for this?]
no subject
She does, however, make a small sound in the back of her throat when Shepard makes her comment, frowning. Instructors have the capacity of turning off their trackers and Parker wishes she could do the same. She knows she's being watched all the time, but damn her if it doesn't make it worse the constant feeling of being tailed.
Shoving the Blackglass in her back pocket, she goes to help Shepard unfolding the benches, focused frown as she does - not because of the collapsible furniture, but the situation. ]
I don't like this. [ She flickers her eyes up to Shepard. ] We get a new arrival and next thing you know, HQ issues an evacuation order.
[ She means Honey, but she would rather avoid names. She is also talking with the little pieces they have, trying to make them fit together - speaking with Warriorhead, reading over the network posts, it made it clear Honey was here because she came from some important family (and Parker knew all too well how easy it was to get access to high ranks when you had a name behind you) but clearly a nuisance to the Instructors. And if that's the case, maybe HQ has a more attentive eye on the Neheda than it used to because of the half-Selenian presence. ]
no subject
[Because there's sure as hell a history of that. But at it's most basic there's no heat or edge to what Shepard says as she collapses the legs of the bench, folds it up into its compartment with Parker's help and secures it there. No way to refine an idea without someone asking you to defend it, right?]
no subject
Are you serious? [ She finally speaks after a pause. ] The last time HQ issued an order it was to inform us of the Almina's discharge.
[ And she uses the word discharge cold, bitter and biting, as if mirroring on of the Instructors (or rather, her interpretation of them). ]
I'm not saying it's a personnel issue. I'm saying things are changing.
no subject
Yeah. We're getting off this rock.
[Clipped and curt, pointed in that it's the only thing any of them know for certain. Anything else - like most everything - is speculative at best, bullshit at worst. Shepard slams the compartment shuts around the bench, clears some minutiae from the table and moves to store that too.]
no subject
But she wonders what exactly does she want from it in the end.
She watches her slam the bench shut and clenches her jaw. ]
That's it? That's all you get from this?
no subject
[Blunt, but she doesn't know any other way to say it. Any theories she has - or John has, or Parker has or Steve goddamn Rogers has - are just houses built without any foundation. The difference is the rest of them are up off the beach; she's down on the sand, neck deep in suspicion as it is.
She clips the compartment straps around the folded bench, shuts the panel.]
no subject
They always are.
[ Listening, watching, controlling. It doesn't matter if there's a crisis going down or if it's sunny and the rainbow's out; they will always be watching. Parker knows that much, even if sometimes she wishes she didn't. Sometimes she doesn't think about it. But most of the time, it's a creeping feeling in the back of her head.
Parker picks up Shepard's bag and pushes it in her own locker, keeps it safe there and makes sure everything that needs to be tied is secured. ]
Well, when it's more convenient to you, don't hesitate in sharing.
[ Which sounds like a prissy little princess, but it's more because Parker trusts Shepard (to a point) and she's willing to share everything with her and doesn't really like being told to wait. ]
no subject
So instead she takes a full step back from the furniture compartments, from the topic of conversation.]
Good.
[Clipped and brusque, agreeing to what is obviously an attempt to bait her and cutting Parker down (or off) in the process. And just as quickly, a topic change, eager to leave the rest of this bubbling on some back burner for the time being:]
Who's your driver?
no subject
To avoid the conversation escalating, and to keep her focus on the current evacuation situation, Parker heads over to her bunk without a word, picking up her handgun she had been cleaning. Checks to see if it's all good and straps it to its leg holster, back turned to Shepard.
The question makes her groan a little, nose scrunched up - not because of the driver himself, but rather the fact she's not it. Always such an annoying thing about driving. ]
Moreau. [ She says as she grabs her helmet, wiping the visor on her clothes carefully. ] He's one of yours, right?
no subject
He's good.
[And that's a weight off her shoulders. She won't have to worry about getting somewhere on time or in one piece with him behind the wheel. Can't say the same for half the rovers - how many assigned drivers even knew how to operate their rover? - but that's officially something she doesn't have energy to worry about. Instead she moves, catching the strap of her kit and hefting it off the ground. Pops one of the rover's side compartments and shoves it into the narrow space available. If they're going to be rattling around, she doesn't need her crap sliding from one end of the vehicle to the other.
Clicks the compartment shut and-- pauses then. Takes a breath and flicks her attention back to Parker.]
Thanks by the way. For the lift.
[There. Simple.]