He wanted to stay by her side, but his duties called him away before the five hours ended. He could afford to delay meeting the other representatives of the militarists and had no quarrels with the home interest that needed settling in a private matter before the main meet. He'd planned and thought over the last day in all his obsessive glory, with all manner of ideas running in and out of his mind while he waited with Pa-5.
But removing from his consideration Re-5's report? No doubt the other headmen and their peons had already read the official report. Still, they wouldn't be able to access her personal testimony until the meet itself, since she was an employee of the First, and outside their jurisdiction. In-3 would be gnashing his teeth over that.
He'd be a fool to neglect such a vital resource and asset. Besides, the time for her to present at his office was fast approaching, and he didn't have the heart to make her wait for nothing. From what he'd seen already, plus some light research, he determined she was a diligent serviceman, but naive. She was high in the ranks at a young age, but she had yet to learn of the vicious nature of the proceedings within the Chamber. It wouldn't hurt to set her expectations.
So off he went, though not before planting his lips on Pa-5's brow. Should a fast recovery come to anyone, let it be her. Back up, up to his office three minutes before their agreed-upon meeting time. He waited outside, and she arrived not a second late. "Sir." She entered a salute. "It's an honor to be in your presence."
"You should abandon those ideals," he advised, letting her inside and offering a mug of syrup. She accepted it and crossed the space to his desk, wordless. "I'm as human as you are, and as mistake-prone. More, if we compare how much longer I've lived."
"Do you believe that, sir?" He peered at her before recognizing what she was referencing: her cybernetic additions, glaring and obvious from how they jutted out from the back of her head and neck. Though they offered immense performance increases in the servicemen who accepted the alterations to their bodies, the reactions from their fellows after were of a tolerable stance, at best.
"I once knew a man who was more scutumsteel than flesh." That was more of an accomplishment than the fact that he'd survived so long in his condition; scutumsteel was so prized nowadays that the same man would bother himself with an immense burden should he attempt the same thing. "And yet he had the biggest heart, the greatest humanity, in the First." That was even more of a surprise, given everything a man like that must have experienced.
"If you say so, sir." He hadn't convinced her with the anecdote, but he didn't need to. He'd planted a small seed that could blossom later.
"I do." He gestured across the desk. "Sit."
She settled into the cushioned chair, pulling her legs up in a relaxed pose that didn't match his impression of her. When she noticed his quizzical look, she blanched and began moving her feet back down. "Apologies, sir, I presumed you--"
He raised a hand. "I was only caught unaware. Think nothing of it." He'd been planning to ask her to relax if she retained her tight exterior before him.
"Thank you, sir." She wriggled to get into a more comfortable position. After a sip from the mug, she cleared her throat. "Where would you like me to start?"
"Some things I already know. I skimmed your official report, and it's remarkable for something compiled in so little time. Well done." She acknowledged his commendations with a tip of her head. "What were the casualty percentages of the WAVs?"
"The Nyx Breaker deployed hundreds of WAV. In the initial confrontation, we lost ten percent of the heavy WAVs and three of the lights. Over the duration it took for the survivor's recovery," He noted she still referred to Pa-5 that way, "we lost an additional six percent of the heavies, nine of the lights, and thirteen of the default WAVs."
"And the retreat?"
"No further casualties were observed from the heavies; the light WAVs lost nineteen percent in that stage, and the defaults lost sixty percent of their total number. Once we covered the heavies' retreat, the lights performed a similar defense to drive back the horde long enough to let onto the boarding ramp the surviving defaults. This cost them another nine percent."
Her nails clinked against the mug. "Altogether, we lost forty percent of the lights, seventy-three percent of the defaults, and sixteen percent of the heavies." A heavy exhale.
"Those are high costs for a single survivor." She grimaced. What he didn't voice was that, to him, Pa-5 was worth that and more. The entire Nyx Breaker too, if that was what it took to get her back to him.
"I knew as much, sir. I can only hope the Directory looks upon my performance kindly for whatever information the survivor can provide."
"They will not."
She froze. "Excuse me, sir?"
"They will not." He proceeded to spend the next half-hour educating Re-5 on the issues plaguing--ahem, intricacies involved with the governing mechanisms of the One-Light Directory's meets of direct representatives. Clear to outline where the factions stood and which wouldn't be willing to be lenient with her, he found himself pleased to see her absorb the flash lesson with little trouble.
When he paused for air, she took a sip. Her mug was almost empty by then, and her face was grim. "So, I should expect the home interest to dig me a grave for the slightest mishap in performance?"
"Indeed. Worse than that, they will find determination to make the First bleed especially, since the Fifth has their hands full with repairing the damage to the Nyx Breaker. They're displeased with its returned state." Though there would hardly be a delay with their production schedule since the Fifth had the resources and facilities to service the Titan back into prime condition within an expedited timeframe. He assumed they would be chittering with fury, though over what? Something so insignificant? Returning one of their prized possessions--technically the First's--with some scratches on it? Alright, there were damage marks larger than simple scratches, but come on.
"They will question you on the elements of the emergency investigative survey that your performance was lacking in." He mentioned the ones they had already discussed. "The casualties, the condition of the Nyx Breaker," and continued with some others, "the time it took for the survey to resolve, the inefficient search methods, your analytical performance, things like that."
He was quick to reassure her. "But don't think the militarists will let them poke you full of holes. We'll be doing the opposite and emphasizing as many high points of the survey as possible."