It's been three days.  Lucifer may be able to take rounds meant for a tank, but putting bones and flesh back together is a painful and laborious process.  That's not counting the time he's spent in Sanctuary's infamous Quarantine, which is painful and laborious for a whole different reason.  Sanctuary grates at the soul in a way that only hospitals can, a place of boredom and suffering and suspicion.  If he didn't know any better he'd think it was the source of the Neverborn's power.

Smoker visits at some point, mostly to give him the finest grain alcohol he can scrounge up.  There's even a few worshipers nearby but they're kept on a short leash.  Human contact is in short supply.

That is until he receives notice of a new visitor.  Julius "Fossil" Caesar has decided to pay him a visit.  The massively-muscled Moroccan gives Lucifer a big grin as he enters the room, extending a hand for Lucifer to shake.

Of course, Lucifer's hand is messed up.  That's the point.

"Hey, there." He greets the Solar, "Glad to see you're still hanging in there, you tough old bastard.  How's Sanctuary treating you?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 00:19, Tue 24 Jan 2017.

Three days was well beyond the threshold of time Lucifer could lie about doing nothing without the walls starting to fall down on him. Had Smoker not been there to placate him with booze and a modicum of human contact - most of it spent convincing him to stay and convalesce- he'd have been worse than a general headache. As it was, he'd heeded the staff's urgings where it would expedite his recovery and disregarded most of the rest. Thank God Spiderweb's talisman had worked - half of Sanctuary might be in flames by now otherwise.

Julius's appearance comes at just the right moment as the Zenith is casting a frustrated look at his mummified hand, one errant thought away from ripping it free against all reason.

"Clinically", He answers the Lunar, deadpan. He almost reaches out to grasp Caesar's outstretched hand just to ruin the joke - almost.

"Old? Tch. This coming from the guy who goes by Fossil."

He shifts to a sitting position on his bed - which the Sanctuary staff had attached his datapad to in a futile effort to have him hold still.

"Anyway, I'm... ok. Hand's still shit and I'm going insane from having nothing to do, though. Please tell me you're here to fix it."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Tue 24 Jan 2017.

"Hey, man, don't pin that on me.  I go by Julius Caesar.  It's a name of history and class.  Everyone else calls me Fossil."  He leans against the wall as he looks at Lucifer's hand, "Well, I sort of am.  I had a bit of a problem and I was going to talk to you anyway, but I decided to check with Smoker first.  And of course Smoker jumped right on that as killing two birds with one stone, so here I am."

He holds out a datapad for Lucifer to peruse.

"This right here?  Six young Exalts, including our newest, Ms. Pak, and a convalescing Ms. Spacewolf.  The other three you might not know- Arkady 'Mountain' Jones, Mercy Brown, and a Fire Dragon-Blooded named Adam Smith.  They're all badly in need of training, especially Ms. Brown.  Mr. Jones is the best of the lot, but only when it comes to pure hand-to-hand.  Put a gun in his hands or a ship under his feet and he's a kitten.  You and I both know this war's already begun blurring operational lines."

It's something Caesar's talked about for a while now- cross-disciplinary combat effectiveness.  Many of their battles have gone from traditional space combat to boarding actions or vice versa.

"The problem is, of course, me."

Daniel takes the pad, frowning slightly in concentration as he skims through the data.

"I've heard something of each but saying I know them would be stretching it", he answers matter-of-factly about the latter three. The Dawn was of definite interest, but he wasn't one to assume Caste was everything.

After a bit of leafing through the data he raises his gaze to Julius somewhat inquisitively. "So you've got a bunch of up-and-comers you'd like to help break their molds. Sounds like a good idea. Have them train and spar each other? If there's one thing I'd tell each newbie it'd be to expect being forced out of your comfort zone."

"There's not much to know for now," He shakes his head, "They're as green as new wood.  I'm particularly unimpressed with Ms. Brown and Mr. Jones, the former's timid and the latter's lazy."

He looks back at Lucifer, "They've already trained and sparred against each other and I don't think it'll do them a lick of good in the real world.  Put them in combat against the Dead and they'll not do very well.  So I've decided I'm going to try hosting some war games."

Daniel frowns and nods at the mention of Ms. Brown and Mr. Jones. "Mmh. That's something we have to push them out of. The Living can't afford our Exalts limiting themselves from realizing their full potential. It translates directly to more lives lost."

He rolls a shoulder - the one on the healthy side - as he listens to Julius's idea and nods once more.

"Yeah, it's one thing to learn new skills and another to learn how to apply them effectively when the shit hits the fan. How are you going to simulate the real deal well enough?"

"My thoughts are the same," He agrees, then gives Lucifer a little smile.

"Did you know that Core has been working on some virtual reality devices?  Full immersion, mental projection, the works?  We can simulate the simpler Neverborn stuff, but the more complex Abyssals are a bit more difficult.  I talked to some of the Machina guild and got in touch with one of Core's friends.  Then I promised a few favors.  Long story short, Core thinks he can minimize processing power by building an Abyssal around a template.  Think of it as 'reskinning.'"  He points at Lucifer, "If you wouldn't mind.  I'd like you to provide the template and be OPFOR Command."

"...You'd like me to be an Abyssal."

Daniel's expression goes from incredulous to revulsed to intrigued over the span of a few seconds. After the knee-jerk reaction of disgust it becomes apparent the plan does have merit: it's the closest thing to real fighting experience without the risk.

He nods, gaining a half-smirk, half-sneer. "...Yeah, I'll do it. I could use some tactical exercise... and I can approximate Abyssal tactics with relative accuracy by thinking what would piss me off the most. Not to mention I'll welcome any break to this monotony."

"Yeah.  Sorry man."  Julius tells him, waiting for him to work through the thought process.  "How about strategic too?  If you want, I can give you total, complete control.  From white-room combat tests to actual multi-mission campaigns.  Your choice.  Put 'em through their paces.  Make them sweat.  Make them bleed.  Make them think.  I'll of course help wherever you want, and I've got a few ideas already set, but I wouldn't dream about dictating to you how to run the show."

Daniel nods, pondering.

"I think we can start with some simpler scenarios you have in mind to gauge and get a feel for the newbies. Then we zoom out and design a more elaborate one to force them out of their comfort zone and really make them sweat."

He scratches the back of his head and throws an errant glance at his datapad, frowning. He'd never really considered himself a strategist - going high in the formal command chain meant becoming bound by it and becoming a political actor - but the Raid on the Buchenwald (and Brahe's "advice", however infuriating and badly delivered) had once again made a statement: the Living needed more than raw strength from him. Perhaps it was indeed time to branch out in this direction.

He leans forward, regarding Julius with a grave expression. "We need to be brutal. An easy or even fair simulation would lull them into a false sense of security which would get them killed."

"Hence why I was thinking a long, drawn-out campaign.  Really make them sweat.  Not just 'that was bad, but it's just a simulation'.  Make them feel loss.  Make them feel resources."  Julius agrees with him, "Hit them with it hard and fast, I'd say; gauge how they deal with hopeless.  I've fought you before while you use your charms, and let me tell you, the despair I feel is palpable.  But your choice how you want to turn on the heat- real quick or let them boil slow."

Daniel nods in agreement here and there as Julius speaks. They seemed to be on the same wavelength about the training.

"Start off hopeful and seemingly simple. When they think they've got it, we hit them quick, hard and brutal; then draw it out when they're reeling and make them see the consequences. They don't get to go 'welp, that didn't work' and quit. They need to despair and find a way to deal."

He sighs faintly, the death cries of those lost against the Buchenwald swimming momentarily through his head.

"The lesson will be harsh but necessary. When can we start?"

"Whenever we're ready.  If you want, I can give you the datapad I use to program some of these.  Put it together and I'll handle getting it actually simulated." He holds up a datapad, "Up to you- want me to put it together and toss you in it, or do you want a full hand on this rudder?"

"So far I'm better at reacting to situations than designing them, so feel free to do the bulk of it. I can still look through what you've got and tweak things, but I trust your vision. We seem to be on the same page in regard to the simulation."

He leans back, glancing to the ceiling.

"Besides, it's better training for me too if I don't know everything in advance."

"That's not the right way to look at it, at least part of it.  You'll be commanding half those forces.  A powerful Abyssal who's survived against the likes of you will have a very good idea of what they've got going on behind the scenes,"  He admonishes Lucifer, "Regardless, I'll get the first component back to you quickly.  Unless you'd like to hash it out here and now?"

"Fair enough", Daniel concedes. Being true to the role was better for the scenario... And as much as he hated to admit it, there might come a time when flying by the seat of his pants just wouldn't cut it.

He leans forward, focusing. "Hell, I'd take a discussion about politics over another hour alone in this place. If you've got what you need let's work it out."

"Well, I've got some ideas.  The first one comes right from a recent problem with a wildcat mining ship.  The Kilroy broke off far from the Living fleet to try to ramscoop a nearby gas giant, the gasses we use to operate the motonic engines of the Fleet are rare and expensive.  So the Kilroy was way out of the way, banking on a low profile to just sneak-mine and come back.  Of course, like 50% of them, they got caught."

He shakes his head.

"Kilroy got attacked by a frigate and sent out your standard 'we fucked up' distress call.  Unfortunately for them, they were obliterated when a Nanking jumped in a few moments later.  Ships were already scrambled and almost to the jump point.  We can possibly turn back the clock on that.  Go off and rescue the Kilroy, arrive just in time for a Nanking, which is pretty standard fare.  But then we'll try to get the Kilroy back, and we'll force the Living Fleet to move with a more concerted Abyssal effort.  We'll then make the Kilroy and escorts run for the Fleet, with a full-grown Abyssal following."

Daniel scratches his jaw thoughtfully.

"One mining ship isn't worth much. But if it can lead us to the Living Fleet..."

He shifts in his seat, crossing his legs in something resembling a lotus position.

"What I'm thinking is we plant a delayed-onset tracker on the Kilroy before reinforcements arrive. Make the initial fight hard enough to not make them suspicious but still one they have a possibility of winning so we have time to gather a proper assault force while they fight."

He takes up his datapad. "If they're cautious or figure out what's going on, they'll either abandon the Kilroy or stand and fight to make sure nothing's wrong after they've won the fight. If they do neither, we jump in the assault fleet soon after and force them into a worse confrontation near the Last Refuge."

"Make them counterboard the Kilroy at first?  That's the best way to get a tracker on,"  He says, "But no matter what I want them to deal with an Abyssal face to face, not behind a ship.  I want them to take a look at you and wet their pants.  No offense, but when your game face is on, I'd rather deal with an Abyssal than you.  At least with them I have a chance."