Idea For Boldly WIP IC Post

Archer's raised eyebrow was his only response to Hamza's revelations.  The Brit had his own opinions about those not native to Earth, but this was neither the time nor place to air such grievances.

"This may not be the best time or place," he pointed out to the Operations officer, "VR simulation this may be, the Captain had reasons for ordering mandatory participation for the crew.  Like it or not," he continued as the pair worked on getting their steps in sync, "we're probably being monitored from the outside..."

"And I'm a hybrid, but I'm going to stay right here to make sure you two don't get eaten by a crocodile."

"...and the inside," Archer added after Rommel had his say, eyeing how familiar the third man seemed with his sidearm, "though I don't see what your parentage has to do with watching our backs," he directed towards Salazar, "but thanks.

"Don't take simulations lightly," he told them both as they walked, "this is all in our heads, so the ones in control can do almost anything to us in here as it won't affect our bodies in the real world.  Heard some horror stories about people who broke because their minds couldn't tell the difference after logging out."

The intelligence officer studied the other two.  He was curious as to how they would react to this bit from the old rumor mill.  All the while, they kept moving - if anything, Hamza would note that Archer had no issues with keeping a pace, it was just he didn't have a fast one naturally.  The makeshift cane, no longer as needed for supporting the Brit's weight, proved a viable tool in testing the path in front of them for roots and other hidden obstacles that might trip them up.

Oh, great. Another smart-ass into the fray. At first Hamza wanted to ignore him, but he couldn't, especiallly when Rommel kept following him and Archer. "Yeah, yeah," he answered. "Of course, Flight Lieutenant," he put up a sweet voice, almost - but not condescending in nature. He whispered to Archer, "Looks like we've got to find ourselves another place to talk about sensitive things like that Kiel... can't have the Major's favorite flightboy spilling everything and painting us in a not-so-good light." The fact that Rommel is a hybrid doesn't make it any better, as it only filled up Hamza's mind with prejudice. However, he's doing his best to stay calm and silent - he needs it, after all, supporting a man and finding the tracks in a dark swamp is pretty much exhausting, and he's not in favor of starting new arguments.

The raised eyebrow returned.  Everyone had different experiences that led them to the curent places in their lives, Archer knew that, but the thought most pressing in his mind right now was trying to put this puzzle together.  There was a big piece he was chewing over that he was having trouble figuring out how it fit into the jigsaw.

Turning to Rommel, he scoffed. "And about crocodiles. I've been adequately experienced with crocodiles... oh, and I certainly don't need being cared by someone if one were to approach me." He paused. "But I appreciate your help." With all the strange noises and sounds, the mud hiding unseen holes under the murky water - however reluctant he might be, working together is the only option now if they want to get out of this hellhole fast. Until they reached the asphalt. He helped Archer adjust himself with the ground, but it was quick, and the asphalt was steady, unlike the ever-moving and soft swamp mud.

"Either of you find it odd that, for a supposed team building exercise for the crew," Archer finally asked of them, "that the Captain isn't in the simulation with the rest of us?"

It was about this point they reached the asphalt.  Archer noted the tonal change as his makeshift cane first hit the artificial rock.

Em didn't know Rommel very well. Or really at all. She knew of him, but only by reputation. But she could smell the derision in Hamza's voice. Fucking purebloods. "Apologies, Lieutenant, but I couldn't help overhearing." she mustered in the most professional tone of voice she could. "When us flyboys and flygirls have to save the ship's ass, we'll make sure to let you do your own thing so you can paint yourself in whatever light you'd like."

"I'm going to have to have my eyebrow surgically moved permamently up onto my forehead, aren't I," Archer's attempt at breaking the tension after Tushnu joined the group's conversation caused said eyebrow to once again climb upwards, "we can arrange as many cage fights as we want once out of this simulation.  For now, I'm more worried about what curve balls we're going to have thrown at us before we do get out."

With Hamza helping the Brit move on one side and the makeshift cane in the other, Archer's pistol dangled in its holster.  The grip glistening in the torchlight as Violann called for the torch to be extinguished.

"Joy," he groaned softly with a smirk to lighten the impact of his pretend complaint, "just as I got my eyes adjusted to torch light," he topped this off with a chuckle.

He quietly observed as the group began its back and forth about if they should actually follow the order or not.  From what he could gather, both sides had valid arguments.  Personally, if he had voting rights, Archer would say keep the torch - nocturnal hunters would be highly disoriented if such a light source was suddenly thrust into their night adapted eyes.  In the end, he held his tongue;  given Aula's reaction, he decided it was probably for the best.  Though he could have done without the 'rock apes' bit at the end.  Still, at Inaotoann's method of chucking the torch instead of simply dousing it and saving it for later did result in a wince.

"Let me know when your eyes have adjusted," he turned to address Hamza, "we need to make sure both of us can see before we try to move again."