IC Contact Post [Hadriel]

[mismanagement]

This is Maketh Tua. State your business.

Comments

[mismanagement]

[There are worse things. Rey can handle herself. Truthfully, she's likely one of their strongest fighters. Not that it really helps when it comes to the guilt that Nick must be feeling. Maketh sighs.] It's not ideal, I know. Much as it pains me, we have to make compromises from time to time.

[synthedick]

Yeah. Mine is more paperwork.

[He did promise Rey that he'd take it easier, and if that's what he needs to do for her peace of mind, then so be it.]

You need help with that coffee? Can't say I know much about making a good cup, since I don't drink much of the stuff myself, but my secretary used to.

[mismanagement]

The bane of us all, I fear.

[But it must be done. Maketh knows a few things very well, and one happens to be administration. It's kept them organized so far. She offers Nick a smile.] I've got it. Though I understand your meaning. Secretaries are very helpful.

[synthedick]

She was. Is, if I ever get back home. I'll bet Ellie would have kittens if I came back in pieces.

[Not that she didn't get like that after a tough case, anyway.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh laughs a little, moving towards the kitchen.] I imagine she would! We shall endeavor to avoid that, then.

[synthedick]

[He follows her in, nodding toward the coffee pot and the mugs sitting nearby. He's kept them out since Dr. Gottlieb visited, just in case they have company.]

So, you said that young man on the network had some ideas for us?

[mismanagement]

Indeed. [Maketh busies herself with the coffee maker. By now she's gotten the hang of it.] Quite simply, we need more information about the gods. There's nothing to prevent them from lying if we ask, of course, but assuming they tell the truth even intermittently...

[It's a risk worth taking.]

But if one of us were to ask such questions, they would get suspicious or at least frustrated. Better to spread them out, no?

[synthedick]

[Nick watches as she works the coffee maker, taking in what she's saying.]

I agree. We might even want to ask a few questions twice, with two different people. See if we get the same answers across the board.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh nods. Their numbers are such that it won't be difficult - and it appears that the gods do favor some of them over the others.] That would be wise. Would you be willing to speak with your contacts, see if any of them would be willing to help?

[synthedick]

Sure. Not sure what contacts I have that the rest of the Guard isn't in touch with already, but it can't hurt to ask, especially if it means finding out more about the folks who brought us here and that Door of theirs.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh nods, searching for mugs.] It can't hurt to try. Did you want some coffee?

[synthedick]

I'll take a cup, sure.

[He doesn't need it -- or need to drink at all -- but if she's going to make it, he might as well.]

We got a list of potential questions ready yet? Or are we still brainstorming those?

[mismanagement]

Still figuring that out. I wondered if you had any ideas?

[Maketh has a few, but worries that her approach is too blunt. The gods don't seem to like her.]

[synthedick]

[Nick glances back toward his notes on the coffee table.]

A few. I've been keeping an eye on the network, especially when the gods show up. Being aggressive with them doesn't do much, so I think playing up our curiosity is the best way to go about things. Delight seemed willing to talk until we started touching on uncomfortable subjects, but Sorrow seems pretty straightforward.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh pours the coffee, arranging the mugs in a straight line.] Do you want cream or sugar?

[She doesn't know if he can taste it or not.]

Indeed. I've put myself in their bad graces, but others seem willing to answer questions.

[synthedick]

Cream, please.

[He can, and with cream being far rarer than sugar back home, he'll take what he can get here.]

You might be in their bad graces, but at least you're alive. Guess we can trust Hope will keep his word on bringing folks back from the dead. [For now.]

[mismanagement]

[Cream it is, then. She adds some to both mugs, pausing to add a pinch of sugar for her own. Maketh has a very particular way of making her own coffee. Everything must be done just so.]

That's true. And he did leave me his blessing, for whatever good it did.

[It caused her pain in the end, but it had been intended for other purposes.]

[synthedick]

Did he?

[That's news to Nick. He's heard about the blessings -- Rey had received one, one that probably saved her life when she returned to Hadriel with a piece of rebar shoved through her middle.]

Guess he can't hate you that much, then. Either that, or he's more impartial than we thought.

[mismanagement]

I don't think they're capable of being impartial. We exist to feed them, so much as they're concerned, and we ought to be grateful.

[Maketh swallows down her bitterness and hands Nick his mug. Enough. Your pain is meaningless here. Ignore it.]

My apologies. That was improper.

[synthedick]

[He takes his mug, and offers her a concerned look in return.]

It's all right, Maketh. You've been through a lot lately. We all have, but you and Henry...

[He trails off, knowing he doesn't need to finish that thought.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh exhales slowly.] It matters not. I am alive and I will do my duty. We have to remain...objective, else mistakes will be made.

[synthedick]

[That concerned look is still there, his eyes still on his superior.]

You're only human, Maketh. It's okay to feel frustrated, especially when you've been here as long as we have. Seen the things we've seen.

[mismanagement]

I am a soldier of the Imperial Court, I will...

[Maketh starts, slapping a hand over her mouth. No. None of that. Never do that in front of other people.] I am sorry. I did not mean that.

[synthedick]

[Nick lets out a quiet sigh. Even death can't break some habits.]

I know you didn't. This place is getting the better of all of us, especially in the last month or so.

[He pauses, adding:]

If you ever need someone to talk to, you know you can call me. I know I'm just an old bot on the Guard, but you work yourself too hard sometimes.

[mismanagement]

Yes.

[It's too easy to fall back into old habits. Maketh takes a slow breath, then lets it out.] You've been kind to me, Nick. I--appreciate that.