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<span class="mu-s">It is the year 0077 of the Universal Century. A half century has passed since the earth began moving its burgeoning population into gigantic orbiting space colonies. A new home for mankind, where people are born and raised… and die.</span>
<span class="mu-i">“We are the people of the universe. We have struggled to survive in a harsh environment, and new generations of colonists testify to our success. Now, when we gaze back at Earth, we see a sacred blue and green orb- the cradle of civilization and a sacred home that we must eternally preserve and protect . . .”</span>
-Zeon Zum Deikun, UC 0058
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<span class="mu-s">21:00, 20th February UC 0077
Zeon Military Academy on Guardian Banchi, Side Three (Republic of Zeon)</span>
A sharp hiss fills the interior of the simulator pod as its primary hatch unseals, motors whirring as it slides off to your right and out of sight. As it vanishes into the wall, bright light floods the interior of the pod, and you raise a hand momentarily to shield your eyes - the pod’s screens and readouts are anything but dim, but the overhead lighting of the warehouse they’re being kept in is downright blinding in comparison. Blinking, you clear your vision and reach out to the edge of the open hatch with a gloved hand, pulling yourself from the pod with practiced ease and landing feet first on the ground after a short drop.
Across the length of the warehouse the other cadets are doing the same, helmets peeking out of all but one of their deactivating simulator pods as each starts to clamber out. Casval is, once again, <span class="mu-i">not</span> wearing a normal suit. Typical, no point even arguing with your brother over it at this point.
“Felix!” The almost taunting voice of a young woman calls out from the pod opposite of your own, a mischievous smile visible beyond her slightly tinted visor, “I think you’re getting worse - What was that flying? I thought your pod broke.”
You give Vivima a small shrug in response, “No, I could just see your shots way off, you’re still projecting intentions. Might as well call them out over comms.”
Viv rolls her eyes and laughs, her voice far clearer and more resonant than it has any right to be - a voice like hers really is squandered on a Zabi, “Mmm, maybe I <span class="mu-i">will</span>, that could be fun. If just thinking about them has you spinning around like a top, imagine how you’d move if I just told you. Oh, I <span class="mu-i">do</span> like that.”
<span class="mu-i">“We are the people of the universe. We have struggled to survive in a harsh environment, and new generations of colonists testify to our success. Now, when we gaze back at Earth, we see a sacred blue and green orb- the cradle of civilization and a sacred home that we must eternally preserve and protect . . .”</span>
-Zeon Zum Deikun, UC 0058
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
<span class="mu-s">21:00, 20th February UC 0077
Zeon Military Academy on Guardian Banchi, Side Three (Republic of Zeon)</span>
A sharp hiss fills the interior of the simulator pod as its primary hatch unseals, motors whirring as it slides off to your right and out of sight. As it vanishes into the wall, bright light floods the interior of the pod, and you raise a hand momentarily to shield your eyes - the pod’s screens and readouts are anything but dim, but the overhead lighting of the warehouse they’re being kept in is downright blinding in comparison. Blinking, you clear your vision and reach out to the edge of the open hatch with a gloved hand, pulling yourself from the pod with practiced ease and landing feet first on the ground after a short drop.
Across the length of the warehouse the other cadets are doing the same, helmets peeking out of all but one of their deactivating simulator pods as each starts to clamber out. Casval is, once again, <span class="mu-i">not</span> wearing a normal suit. Typical, no point even arguing with your brother over it at this point.
“Felix!” The almost taunting voice of a young woman calls out from the pod opposite of your own, a mischievous smile visible beyond her slightly tinted visor, “I think you’re getting worse - What was that flying? I thought your pod broke.”
You give Vivima a small shrug in response, “No, I could just see your shots way off, you’re still projecting intentions. Might as well call them out over comms.”
Viv rolls her eyes and laughs, her voice far clearer and more resonant than it has any right to be - a voice like hers really is squandered on a Zabi, “Mmm, maybe I <span class="mu-i">will</span>, that could be fun. If just thinking about them has you spinning around like a top, imagine how you’d move if I just told you. Oh, I <span class="mu-i">do</span> like that.”
