milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Steve is looking very serious today; he's got newspapers, a map, and graph paper spread out in front of him, enough of it to take up an entire table. If one looks closely, the papers are all detailing the 'retirement' of Captain America, the map is of a several-storied building, and the graph paper is covered in doodles, scribbles and plans.

He looks like he could use some distraction.

Tiny Tags: Rojhaz, Adrian Shephard, Scaramouche, Hey Arnold, and Zexion.

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It's hardly interesting -- better for the President-for-Life's power if the people are uninterested and thus uninformed -- but there is a picture of Steve (plain Steve, not Captain America) dug up from God knows where, and a few paragraphs about the disappearance of a legend.

It's dated in the 2030s.

When he notices Adrian looking, he tenses just a little and looks over pointedly.

"Sorry, sir," says Shephard. "Been out of the loop a while, and I saw the paper, so-" He shrugs. "Won't do that again."

The accent is West Virginia holler country. Chuck Yeager, only faster and a little more mumbled.

"This paper is years old. Though maybe not for you," he says, thoughtfully, glancing at the uniform in his hand. "What branch are you, soldier?"

"Marine Corps, sir. Corporal Adrian Shephard, Hazardous Environment Combat Unit as of May of 2001."

The other details can wait until he sees whether they're really necessary or not.

He sits straighter, if that's possible, and nods. "Retired General Steven Rogers, US Army, 2090."

Shephard could not have snapped to attention and a full salute faster or more neatly if he'd been a marionette and Jim Henson had been pulling his strings. "Sir."

Almost immediately: "At ease. It's good to meet you, Corporal."

"Yessir." Shephard drops his hand and settles back on his heels. "Same here, sir. I only just got here last night, I don't know much about the place yet."

"If you have any questions, I'll try to answer them. I've only been here a few times myself."

Shephard nods. "A couple of folks've tried to fill me in so far, and they're doin' all right, I guess, but..." He hesitates. "You said you're from 2090, sir?"

"I did. Time works strangely here."

"Yeah, they mentioned that... Sir, I don't suppose there's any chance you could tell me if there's a Pittsburgh in your time? I'm just... well, my world's got problems, and I"m just tryin' to check up on one of 'em..."

Steve passes over a map of America current for his time. There are several places starred in red pen. There are several concentric circles with a star in the middle doodled in the Gulf of Mexico.

"It's still there." And taking up much more room than it did in the past.

Shephard nods slowly. "Okay," he says, "okay. Uh. 's just occurred to me you might not... you know, be from the same world as me. They ever call it 'the Scab', where you come from? Or was there ever somewhere called 'City 23', or 'City 17'?"

"No, we aren't from the same world. I've heard City 17 mentioned."

But he won't say by who.

"Ah. Damn." He shakes his head. "Sorry, sir. It was worth a shot."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help more, Corporal." He marks something on his pad. "Tell me, do you know Gordon Freeman?"

"Fuckin' dog bastard sh-" He pulls himself up short. "Sorry, sir. Yes. I am familiar with the name, sir."

Steve narrows his eyes.

"In what capacity?"

Shephard takes refuge in formality, as generations of every kind of soldier have done before him.

"Sir, the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit was dispatched to Black Mesa Research Facility on May sixteenth of 2001 under orders to put down the alien intrusion caused by the scientific experiments being performed on the premises. There were additional orders to silence all possible witnesses and leave nothing present alive. Dr. Freeman was the only scientist of whom I am aware who mounted any kind of resistance."

He takes a breath.

"Sir, I am aware that those orders are illegal. My transport plane was shot down before our CO could give us those orders. I did not become aware of them until most of HECU had already pulled out. That does not change the fact that Dr. Freeman killed more Marines in one day than a bad drill instructor does in a year, sir."

He goes still and silent, listening to his story. He knew Freeman was fighting a war, and there are always, always causalities in war. That doesn't make it any easier when faced with evidence of those casualties outside of battle.

"No, it doesn't."

Shephard nods once, hands behind his back.

"May I ask how it is you know the man, sir?"

Shortly: "You may. He is assisting with a revolution on my own world."

"Oh."

It's ... difficult... to think of anything to say beyond that.

Although it does leave Shephard wondering, as his eyes drift down to the map again, just exactly what some of those markings signify...

Killing soldiers is part of why they need Gordon Freeman. He isn't going to apologize for that.

He will answer questions if asked, however.