The Defense Force 'headquarters' could generously be called spartan. Sitting up against the wall of the 'Dome itself, the building consisted of a small building with an attached hangar. The structure's dull grey exterior stood out in stark contrast to the offices surrounding it, each one painted in the colors of the entity that conducted business out of them, while the MDF insignia painted on the hangar's door had clearly seen the worse of the sandstorms that swept through the area regularly. The interior of the first floor was clearly an office and meeting area. There was no reception area, only a well lit space occupied by four large desks and a long rectangular table in the center that was clearly used for briefings as indicated by the projector sitting on it. A pair of double doors were left open and led to the hangar where the lower legs of several mobile suits could be seen lined up against the far wall. The center of the hangar had been cleared to make way for a myriad of scattered parts centered around a truly massive project that appeared to be the foot and leg of a mobile suit. The entire assembly was far too large by any conventional mobile suit design standards and the plates of armor stacked nearby indicated a much larger mass once fully assembled, nearly three times as wide as the legs of the King GMs lined up against the wall. The unpainted armor was actually a frame of heavy duty metal frame housing three tan metal inserts, each plate nearly a meter and a half thick in total. The limb's metal frame had already been constructed and a wide trapezoidal foot served to keep the assembly upright but several heavy links of chain hanging from the roof, usually reserved for anchoring ships, had been temporarily welded to the top.

The man standing standing inside the hangar could only be described as a brute. Nearly six and a half feet tall and seemingly almost as wide, the man's olive skin was rough and covered in a thick coat of dark hair that showed no signs of thinning as it ran into the sleeves of his thin work shirt. The desert patterned cargo pants he wore bore a distinctly uniform appearance and the massive boots covering his feet confirmed them to be the bottom half of a uniform. His posture showed clear annoyance with hands that were better described as paws planted firmly on his hips as he stared up at the unfinished limb. He didn't turn when an electronic chime announced the arrival of someone in the front office, all of his attention focused on the object of his frustration. His face was broad, flat, and cursed to never be truly 'handsome.' An uneven nose from too many breaks sat between narrowed brown eyes while his perfectly faded black hair revealed wide ears and a thick neck. "Come on," he called irritably up to the top of the leg, "You've been at this since yesterday morning. You need to rest and actually eat something. Nevermind take a shower. This thing won't magically work the more you hit it."

The source of the man's annoyance made it clear by a string of curses in a feminine voice followed by a frustrated BANG of a tool on metal from inside the limb and a woman crawled out of the tangled wires and machinery at the top of the limb a moment later. She was slim, bordering on petite, and obviously needed everything the man claimed. This week her hair had been dyed a bright, fiery orange but neglect had caused the color to start to fade back to its natural brown while oil and other unknown substances stained the tangled mess. Her angular features were twisted into a mask of frustrated anger that the dark bags beneath her eyes and further oil stains only accentuated. The long sleeved shirt she wore had been brown once but whatever oilspill she had found had turned the garment almost entirely black. Her green eyes seemed brighter than normal in that stained visage and they glared down with unfocused rage at the large man standing several feet below her. "How about you go back to the barracks and let me work, Daine? You're not my father and certainly not my fucking caretaker. I'm a grown woman and I'll leave when this thing takes power like its supposed to!"
She punctuated her statement by snatching a thick mug from its precarious perch on the edge of the frame and downing a solid two mouthfuls before slamming it back down. The only thing that saved the dented container from shattering was its construction, cast from the same armor plating that was stacked nearby.

Kayla, the Defense Force commander and drinking coffee with strong Irish ancestry, snapped her ferocious gaze up towards the office and the intruders in it. "Look. Go play house with whoever the hell that is. If they're from any of the CEOs, tell them to jump in darkest hole they can find and stay there. I'm busy." The irate, disheveled woman seemed either ignorant or uncaring that the acoustics of the hangar would carry the entire exchange into the office with little loss of volume as she dove back into the maze of machinery.

It was Susan who had inquired about the meeting originally, having called Garret almost reluctantly after their first meeting to inquire his help. She hoped it would not take a similar turn to the last deal, as this was no longer official Union business and the quints no longer had the luxury of being able to afford a mistake which might reflect badly on their superiors. Inexperience had given way to a drifting sense of familiarity with Marketdome and the way it operated, and any business conducted now with Ekateryna would reflect that understanding. It was Philippa who arranged the meeting proper, setting times and ironing out details. Susan was grateful for her, because neither she nor their sisters with the exception perhaps of Elizabeth had the practicality of mind to operate through these things without difficulty. Still, they would be looking to her to guide them through the mess of initial greeting as they had when they first arrived on Earth, and this (which had gone so well when they had met Garret) was the cause of most of Susan's worry.

The complex could be called intimidating, if not sparse, the plain grandeur of the space reflected that, with the tepid grey and individuality of its offices. The girls were reminded, in some way, of themselves when they saw the buildings. Individuals struggling for difference against a stark sameness of outward professional appearance. They found their way to the meeting area of the office they were directed to, and noticing the desks and table opted to stand politely not lingering in the threshold of the reception area but just beyond before the seating area. Susan had assembled her sisters in a tidy row stretching the front of the room, each dressed similarly in denim which suggested a willingness to "play" country without any real sense of the hardship involved with living in such a place. They were too clean, too pretty and too sophisticated to be from the area despite the effort at casually fitting in.

Under less professional circumstances the girls may have flinched when they were confronted with the Goliath that greeted them, a great hulking bear of a man with blunt features and a huge presence. The first thing the quints took in beyond his size was the aura of uniform his attire presented, alluding to the official capacity of his position in this place, and Susan wondered vaguely of every man who worked within the `Dome were as enormous as Garret and this man. Susan stiffened when she saw him, and her sisters took her cue immediately. This was a practice they had been over many times in their lives, and they were so used to the action it came as naturally as breathing.

"Hello, Sir," the quintuplets greeted in unison, a polite curtsy directed toward the giant as they continued flawlessly, "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us."

"We are here," said Susan.

"To meet with Kayla," said Philippa.

"We were informed by Garret," said Josephine.

"That she could be found here." said Caroline.

"We would be very grateful for her time," said Elizabeth.

"Has she been informed we have arrived?" they finished once more together, taking the time to circle Daine in a respectably distanced crescent in an effort to relax him, still not quite understanding the sight of them all together in such a way might be more than a little jarring.

Ekateryna watched the girls’ faces as they walked to their destination and was very displeased to note their discomfort with the situation. A frown stretched its way across her face. Although she had already smoked one cigarette on the way over, this was definitely a situation that called for another. Her fingers trembled, almost dropping the cigarette on the dusty street. She bounced up and down while walking, her die pressing into her thigh. Her cigarette lit up with a click of her lighter.

The monotone, steel interior of the hangar greeted Ekateryna as she followed the quintuplets into the building they had taken her to. The building’s décor reminded her of the interior of her gundam: designed to look sterile, unwelcoming, and business-like. She took a puff of her cigarette and let the smoke trail out of her mouth in a hazy cloud. She instantly calmed down and smiled. The twins had already started talking to a goliath of a man who, if she was being honest, was the ugliest thing in the room, the décor included. Ekateryna turned her head away from the man, refusing to give him the time of day. He didn’t seem important enough for her to waste her precious words on. She instead spent her time studying the room, looking for the woman that the quints had taken her to meet. Finding no one else present, Ekateryna was about to leave the room when she heard a high-pitched, angry female voice coming from the hangar. It was telling her to jump down a hole and stay the hell out of her way.

“Hey, Sherlock!” Ekateryna yelled at the girls. She held her cigarette delicately between the index and middle fingers of her right hand. “Why don’t we just ask the lady who is yelling at us to find Kayla, eh? Often times I have found that the person getting angry at the newcomer is the owner of the establishment."

Her sea blue eyes narrowed. The Martian checked the sparkly, gem-encrusted, white hair clip at the top of her ponytail to make sure it was attached to her hair. She brushed a few loose strands of dirty-blond hair out of her eyes with her free hand, grasped the bottom of the long, short-sleeved, green dress she was wearing in one hand, and began walking toward the hanger. She entered the hanger and yelled back at the girl poking her head out of the suit. "I'm looking for a woman named Kayla. Would you know where to find her?"

Daine didn't blink for nearly half a minute after the five identical women performed their devilry. The polite giant took a breath, gathered himself, and smiled broadly. Their mention of Garret was both a perfect introduction and one that put the big man on edge. He knew Garret and had fought against the man more than once. The memory made a wedge-shaped scar in his back itch and he absently tried to reach behind him to get at the difficult spot as he spoke, deep voice radiating cheer. "Normally she's here, you're right," he began. Daine didn't like to lie but with the state his boss was in, these well dressed visitors didn't need to talk to her. Their look screamed 'rich and trying to blend in' and that meant business of some kind. The distraught commander did not need this right now. "She's indisposed at the moment but I can handle any requests for the Defense Force you have. I'm Daine Statecliff, the closest thing we have to a second in command at the moment. How can I help you?"

Technically Daine was lying. Kayla had demoted him in the wake of the mobile armor attack that had killed nearly half of their standing pilots. She had demoted most of the command staff and only a desperate plea from another pilot had kept her from resigning from her position as well. Still, the members of the MDF had carried on as normal where public interaction was concerned both out of duty and to shield their young leader until she could recover. "If you'd like to have a seat, I can make coffee or run to one of the nearby stores for something else," he offered right as the sixth woman, the one who hadn't done her best Children of the Corn impression, yelled at the others and stormed past him into the hangar. Too slow to catch her before she made it past him, Daine turned to follow her progress with obvious concern in his eyes. "Oh dear," he muttered under his breath, unaware his other five guests likely heard his less than subtle voice.

The partially assembled leg remained quiet for half a minute after Ekateryna shouted at it. Kayla had long since submerged and ignored the shouting from the office. The dark whispers in her mind quietly hoped that it was a person horrible enough to make Daine leave. Her hopes, however bleak, were dashed when the same shouting voice came again from right outside her project. What followed was a symphony of banging metal, cursing, and the sound of parts being shifted before Kayla's disheveled face emerged from an opening right in front of the blonde woman's face. Her tired, angry eyes glared at the woman beneath her mop of disheveled hair and the slender woman literally growled before she spoke. "You just found her. Who the hell are you and why are you ignoring one of my men to come bother me? Come to gawk at the woman who 'saved' Marketdome from monsters? I don't do autographs, so fuck off."

Kayla wasn't quiet about her displeasure and her voice filtered into the office and left Daine standing sheepishly as his lie was exposed to the Eberharts.

Philippa pinched the bridge of her nose, and begged for patience. This. All of this was why she hated this planet. This fucked up, awful planet full of weird ass people, gravity that felt so uncomfortable she was surprised she didn't sway when she walked. It was too hot, the atmosphere was too thick, and what even was the sky? No, she had enough, and when this behemoth's lie was exposed, it was Philippa who took charge, usurping Susan's authority and leaving her socked sister to stand back in line as though Philippa may as well have gripped her collar and dragged her backward.

"We need a ship, please," Philippa said, her voice stern and only thinly veiled with etiquette, "This, that... that." She said, the lovely sea-glass of her eyes falling upon Ekateryna scathingly, "Will tell you the specifications. I" She paused to look over her shoulder at Susan, who actually flinched, before she continued, "Will pay for everything. Money is no object." She dismissed the idea of expense with a lazy wave of her hand, "Please have it done quickly or direct us to somebody that can so I" And again she looked over her shoulders at her sisters, who paled at the staunch expression of their sister's individuality, "Can finally get off of this piece of shit planet and never have to look at that blue monstrosity above me ever again."

She met Daine's gaze furiously, her cheeks pink with the exertion of her temper, and Caroline actually stepped forward to rub her sister's shoulders comfortingly-- almost apologetically. She knew how much Philippa hated Earth, and suddenly felt so very guilty for asking her to stay for so long.

“My name is Ekateryna Ramonivsky. I don’t know who you are and I barely knew about Marketdome before I came here. I have no idea what you have been through, but it must not have been a nice experience to make you yell at me.” Ekateryna spoke in a calm voice, hoping to hide her growing annoyance with the number of people she had made angry today. “The man upstairs told me I could have food or a drink if I’d like to have a seat, and I chose not to sit. The two doors leading to the hanger were open, so I figured I could come in. Open doors are meant to be walked through. I mean, why else would anyone leave their doors open?” She paused for a brief second to gather her thoughts. “I walked in because I hadn’t been told not to come in, and I have something to tell you. I just want to see if you have a ship for me. There are five other women with me, all identical. One of them, whose name is Philippa, called a man named Garret on my behalf to see who could get me a ship. Garret told Philippa,” She gestured toward one of the quints in the office, “that you might have the ship I need to do my business. That is why I, and the five quintuplets upstairs, are here." The Martian paused for a bit to take a few drags of her cigarette before she put it out against the bottom of the leg Kayla was inside. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I was just yelling because I want to make sure you hear me.”

Once she stopped speaking, she finally had time to glance at Kayla’s disheveled figure and take in the deep bags under the orange-haired woman’s eyes. Ekateryna felt a growing sense of sorrow and pity gnaw at her mind at Kayla’s condition. It was obvious the pilot, if that is what Kayla was, had spent precious little time taking care of herself recently. The only other time Ekateryna had seen someone this tired was the last time she had gotten sick. She remembered feeling so miserable because all she wanted was for someone to bring her something she could eat so her stomach wouldn't keep her up at night. Ekateryna rummaged around in the pockets of her green dress for something edible to give Kayla and found nothing except her green die and a small wallet. She sighed, knowing that it would break her heart to leave Kayla alone in this situation. Her ship would have to wait.

“I don’t need a ship right away, take your time. Here, maybe you should sit down." Ekateryna's calm voice grew warmer as she eased into the familiar role of a caretaker, which she often was to the two men who lived with her on side 3. “I can get the man in the office to leave and get you some food. That way you can take a nap and get some rest. Would you like that?”

Daine flinched as he listened to the exchange in the hangar behind him and his reaction was an open book to anyone looking in his general direction. He looked over his shoulder with a deeply concerned expression on his vace that deepened it's weathered age lines to valleys and shook his head. It was the same look a zookeeper might have if a toddler had just wandered into a tiger enclosure and he took one abortive step to rescue Ekateryna before he forced himself to stop. He seemed to have an equally irate woman in front of him and he would be mopping up the blood for a week. He forced his smile back into place and looked down... then farther down until he could meet Philippa's furious gaze. "I... see," he began slowly, hesitant to disappoint the woman even if he knew he had to. "Well we're the city's defense force. We don't, erm, build ships." His massive hand drifted to the back of his head and further disturbed the short hair there as he rushed on, unwilling to open himself up to another tirade. "There are companies here that do of course and we could gladly take you to one of them. I don't know how quickly they can build a ship but I can give you an introduction to the one we're talking to about a replacement vessel for our own use."

The second in command of Marketdome's entire defense force reached down to offer Philippa his hand. "I'm sorry you hate Earth so much. Have you been working the whole time? There are some things here you wont find in space and they really are worth seeking out."

While Daine was making his apologies, Kayla was in no such mood. She began to work her way out of the crevice she had emerged from as the intrusive Ekateryna droned on about why she had invaded the commander's sanctum and had dropped to the ground by the time the woman was apologizing for making her'upset.' The fully revealed commander was as slender as her upper body suggested and just as covered with grease and other questionable stains that usually resulted from in dept work on machinery... and she wasn't wearing pants, a pair of briefs the only thing securing what remained of her dignity. Despite her borderline petite frame, the three inches in height she had on Ekateryna combined with her hunched posture and nearly feral anger gave the woman a deranged appearance. "Oh no, no, no" she said with all of the sarcastic good will her sleep deprived brain could muster, "Especially if its Garret that sent you here."
There was no hiding the malice in her tone when she said the merchant's name and her brown eyes glittered like gemstones as she stepped even closer to the intrusive woman until scant inches separated the pair. Kayla smelled like sweat, oil, and a small southern distillery and she spit her reply in the Martian's face. "You clearly need me to take you over to see an actual shipwright as soon as possible, I can tell by how eagerly you ran in here and the person I can hear ripping Daine a new one."

She raised her voice to just below shouting volume at the last few words to ensure that it would carry into the office as she stormed towards it.

Her sister popped a blood vessel. Susan was sure of it. She saw Philippa's neck and cheeks flush almost scarlet with indignant rage at Daine's words-- and surely at Garret who had suggested to see these people as well. She was almost tempted to have Caroline look their sister over to see to it she wasn't going to pass out from the sheer breathless anger that seemed to cross Philippa's face, before the young woman closed her eyes, a deep breath escaping her before she looked upon Daine cooly. She looked at the behemoth's hand as if it were covered in something unpleasant, and shook it gingerly.

"As far as I'm concerned, the wonders of Earth can su--" Philippa began before Elizabeth moved forward immediately.

"Surround even the most skeptical mind with beauty, yes, I agree." She said quickly, and Josephine and Susan both shot her an expression that clearly said 'Nice save!'

Philippa's eyebrow twitched once, but she said nothing. Josephine spoke then.

"We may take you up on that suggestion," Josephine said, removing a contact card from her back pocket to hand to Daine in the event of future dealings, "Surely you'll take..." She paused to look toward the direction of Kayla's yelling, "Good care of our..."

Philippa shot Josephine a sharp glance then. Don't even attempt to say it. Caroline continued for Josephine.

"Acquaintance, then." Caroline said sweetly, "We'll be outside."

собс72.2BettBettBackGirlUnio1962AlisCentWindAtlaРоссLuxoGardAntoAtlaMeat28ARWarnPlusАбдуреда
НетеИллюNatuголоSplaCathФранПотаПетрAloeОрлоCarlЖигаTeanДворOracСодеПолиСухонасаNintMediGeza
NIVEKumoЛаврBidiAragQuesDrivMediведуJameмикрискуPushRenaфакуBarrTamaЯковАсауПервВереМилаAnas
сертPushКожеWindWindBlacТитоWondWindСодеMalcwwwrStarTurnсереCompNovaAzumиллюStanJeanJohnРжез
DaniРоссБурцзакаRHINЛазопотрфутбКлимMoleRockTimeClauNokiHowaReflDannсовеМертWindBlacChupTint
DalvукраповеMCS1HDMICataClimГермLoveStarИллюJardHallХудоPartPachRock9121PerfSuprнеровузоJazz
polyкнижVictукраPaulискуWindPoweначиPhilWinxDeLoигруIncazitaЛитРLizaDionШироАртиWingГригради
ЛитРДмит(194XVIIавтоиздаБогаМаркфакуНикоакадTwelGogoSoutAlbuИллюNickDaviЧиркнабеCapiMalcМатю
РадыЛубкШарымузыСодеGoldЩепиКареКлимСахаКлемSoulPerfPlayавтоLuciИллюSpeeчитаAstrinteMCS1MCS1
MCS1ЯськJostуверИллюTokiвводАромРазмВассСодеМыльШтолИллюGlee

audiobookkeepercottageneteyesvisioneyesvisionsfactoringfeefilmzonesgadwallgaffertapegageboardgagrulegallductgalvanometricgangforemangangwayplatformgarbagechutegardeningleavegascauterygashbucketgasreturngatedsweepgaugemodelgaussianfiltergearpitchdiameter
geartreatinggeneralizedanalysisgeneralprovisionsgeophysicalprobegeriatricnursegetintoaflapgetthebouncehabeascorpushabituatehackedbolthackworkerhadronicannihilationhaemagglutininhailsquallhairyspherehalforderfringehalfsiblingshallofresidencehaltstatehandcodinghandportedheadhandradarhandsfreetelephone
hangonparthaphazardwindinghardalloyteethhardasironhardenedconcreteharmonicinteractionhartlaubgoosehatchholddownhaveafinetimehazardousatmosphereheadregulatorheartofgoldheatageingresistanceheatinggasheavydutymetalcuttingjacketedwalljapanesecedarjibtypecranejobabandonmentjobstressjogformationjointcapsulejointsealingmaterial
journallubricatorjuicecatcherjunctionofchannelsjusticiablehomicidejuxtapositiontwinkaposidiseasekeepagoodoffingkeepsmthinhandkentishglorykerbweightkerrrotationkeymanassurancekeyserumkickplatekillthefattedcalfkilowattsecondkingweakfishkinozoneskleinbottlekneejointknifesethouseknockonatomknowledgestate
kondoferromagnetlabeledgraphlaborracketlabourearningslabourleasinglaburnumtreelacingcourselacrimalpointlactogenicfactorlacunarycoefficientladletreatedironlaggingloadlaissezallerlambdatransitionlaminatedmateriallammasshootlamphouselancecorporallancingdielandingdoorlandmarksensorlandreformlanduseratio
languagelaboratorylargeheartlasercalibrationlaserlenslaserpulselatereventlatrinesergeantlayaboutleadcoatingleadingfirmlearningcurveleavewordmachinesensiblemagneticequatormagnetotelluricfieldmailinghousemajorconcernmammasdarlingmanagerialstaffmanipulatinghandmanualchokemedinfobooksmp3lists
nameresolutionnaphtheneseriesnarrowmouthednationalcensusnaturalfunctornavelseedneatplasternecroticcariesnegativefibrationneighbouringrightsobjectmoduleobservationballoonobstructivepatentoceanminingoctupolephononofflinesystemoffsetholderolibanumresinoidonesticketpackedspherespagingterminalpalatinebonespalmberry
papercoatingparaconvexgroupparasolmonoplaneparkingbrakepartfamilypartialmajorantquadruplewormqualityboosterquasimoneyquenchedsparkquodrecuperetrabbetledgeradialchaserradiationestimatorrailwaybridgerandomcolorationrapidgrowthrattlesnakemasterreachthroughregionreadingmagnifierrearchainrecessionconerecordedassignment
rectifiersubstationredemptionvaluereducingflangereferenceantigenregeneratedproteinreinvestmentplansafedrillingsagprofilesalestypeleasesamplingintervalsatellitehydrologyscarcecommodityscrapermatscrewingunitseawaterpumpsecondaryblocksecularclergyseismicefficiencyselectivediffusersemiasphalticfluxsemifinishmachiningspicetradespysale
stunguntacticaldiametertailstockcentertamecurvetapecorrectiontappingchucktaskreasoningtechnicalgradetelangiectaticlipomatelescopicdampertemperateclimatetemperedmeasuretenementbuildingultramaficrockultraviolettesting