Behind the Scenes

[Reeves]

//This will be a thread full of one-post stories about incidents, mundane events, or otherwise purely unremarkable and fluff-oriented details regarding life in the LFR

Fortress Ramsey; Ontario System; Liberty Free Republic

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Spirituality and Ramsey did not go together. In fact they were perhaps the last things you would put together, let alone in the same sentence.

But desperate times made for strange habits. And the lives of the young were oftentimes spent in search of something. Meaning, kinship, companionship, or comfort. Sometimes all these things are sought out but never found. It was unlikely that any of the young women that were at work in this disused corridor would be alive by the end of today's assault on the California gate. So it was in these moments that they allowed themselves to be more like their actual selves than they otherwise might be.

Conditioning made way for insecurity and anxiety. And while a plague there was a form of respite available. What better to look up to in times of uncertainty than exemplars who came before you? Though Ramsey's storied military culture was not rife with heroines that had associated legend. But there was one icon of exactly such a caliber.

She was an oddity, even among something as seemingly undisciplined as the Alliance. She defied their traditions, culture, and instead challenged the status quo on the sole factor of her own value. And she proved it. In her time, short as it might have been, she was quickly recognized as one of the best pilots that had ever been recorded in Liberty's colonial history. Few people knew her by her real name, fewer still could remember what she looked like. But people like these? They remember what she represented.

And so it was that this dead end access-way that had been forgotten to time and relentless expansion was turned into a humble shrine. Keepsakes and dim warm lights dotted the walls and floor in stained tapestries of glass that resembled webbing. And a holo-sculpture of a grandly posed and determined woman was recessed into the sealed bulkhead at the far end. Almost like a church.

In the days that went by they came here often. Whenever they had time, making small offerings of what they could manage to tie a semblance of sentiment to. Though they would wistfully note their depleting numbers with each passing day.

But it was on the eve of the assault itself that an uninvited guest stumbled his way there in the hopes of finding a less packed and more convenient route to the hangars on the far-side.

Cobra.

Commander of the Alliance, and known to be the Widow's confidant and rumored romantic partner. Although this was many years ago, a tension gripped the room, the expectation was that he might take offense to the things on display here. That one of his own, someone he might have loved, was portrayed in such a manner.

But he was quiet until spoken to, and even then polite and well meaning on the face of it. Asking for names and trying to make light of what was to come. They knew he was just keeping up a strong front for the sake of morale and appreciated it all the same.

What truly shocked them was his request to pay respects to their shrine here. Specifically to light one of the few real candles they had managed to procure from the quartermaster, or rather stolen given their novel nature and lack of real practical use. Nobody would notice until weeks later and by then there would be no need to really investigate such an oddity.

Still, surprise gave way to warm hospitality as they accepted the Commander's request. Permitting him to be the first "visitor" that was allowed to pay respects outside of their own personal circle. And they watched eagerly as he approached to do just that, undivided attention paid towards how he lit the candle and looked up at the face on display. They were sure then that the rumors were true. That they really were halves of a whole.

And while his respect and receptiveness had been encouraging. His words felt burdened by a lack of closure and regret.

"Do you still believe I can do it? Would you even still believe in me now?"

There was no further talking between the group and the Commander, just an exchange of respectful nods as he left soon after. And while it might have otherwise been alarming to know a leader of one of the largest movements in the cause had his own doubts, something about this felt.. comforting? If she believed in him, then perhaps they could, and perhaps tomorrow would spare some of them to carry on this legacy.

Someone would remember.