Silence ensued after those words, plunging the other two Ruths into contemplation.
Their general thought process followed along the lines of 'the eradication of Pandemonium scum' or 'reclaiming The Warpower'.
'The risk is great, but the rewards: greater. Should we seize back control over Aegis, then we gain stronger footing for our goal.'
Such were the thoughts of Braided-Hair Ruth.
'Impatience brings risk, and failure: detriment. How many failures can we afford? If we fall apart, would that not harm our momentum towards success?'
Such were the thoughts of Messy-Bun Ruth.
A balance of caution and duty: each pointed towards the same goal, along similar lines of thought.
Yet, even if their paths differ, they were still Ruths.
Should one script a Ruth's thoughts on a report, 'goal' would be the subject and 'death' would be a footnote.
It was the inherent nature of an Overseer.
Rene had his own thoughts, too.
It did align with what the Ruths were thinking, but more along the lines of preservation.
'As long as I can find my Unit and keep them, as well as Ruth, alive, then anything should be fine, right?''
He felt a strong sense of duty in this regard.
Looking over at Charles, Rene could tell his fellow Captain felt the same.
His caution was borne out of his duty.
It was inherent for a Captain.
As the tension in the room settled, the silence was broken with a defeated sigh.
"I'll concede... If what you speculate is true, then arguing further would be meaningless."
Messy-Bun Ruth threw her hands in the air—figuratively, that is.
To which Braided-Hair Ruth immediately followed up.
"Then let us begin planning our assault on the Outpost."
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With nightfall came a profound quiet.
The outpost settled as human activity was quelled and dim lights were ignited.
Rene found himself standing beside Ruth; both within a pseudo-bedroom—one of the refurbished stores, remodelled into a space with multiple rooms, similar to a hospital ward.
Since Rene had nothing else to do, he remained by Ruth's side, who sat on her bed's edge.
Steam rose from a cup that warmed her hands; the brown liquid inside was a nutritious soup, albeit on the saltier side.
"How is your wound, Overseer?" Rene tentatively asked.
Hiking up her shirt with one hand, the bloodied bandages had long dried; her abdomen was no longer bleeding.
"It'll be healed by the time we leave."
"There's still twenty-eight hours left till departure. Besides replenishing our energy and general preparations, is there still enough time for... idle activity?"
"You are still searching for your Unit members?"
Ruth looked at Rene from below her brows, sipping at the soup.
"I understand your urgency, but we don't have time to leverage towards your sentiment, Captain Rene."
Sighing quietly, Rene nodded.
"If you say so, Overseer."
"Look, when we secure the Aegis Outpost, we can try and figure out a way to contact any surviving members of our fleet. That includes your Unit."
"Really?"
"Of course. It was part of the plan to contact Carpediem Headquarters. Contacting survivors and regrouping was on course."
Rene felt comforted by that fact.
He leaned back, settling against the wall with a sigh, musing quietly.
"Five months of planning had almost torn everyone apart. I hope they're still out there."
Ruth let a flicker of disdain furrow her brows, before softening as she took another sip of her soup. Her hand wandered as she recalled memories, gently caressing the wound on her stomach.
'That reminds me... The matter of how Pandemonium Scum had infiltrated our fleet remains untouched... Considering our current focus on Aegis, that is a matter I shall bring up later.'
Ruth thought to herself.
Tilting her head back, Ruth tipped the rest of the cup's contents into her mouth, savouring the overly salty taste before setting the cup aside.
"Keep an eye out, wake me if I sleep beyond the eighth hour."
"Yes, Overseer."
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...
Those twenty-eight hours passed by in a blur, with the final hour nearing.
Jean, along with Braided-Hair Ruth, set up the general map for their expedition into the Militia District.
What little food they had was dedicated to the ordinary humans, the workers, whose job would be lugging around any other resources brought along for the journey, such as Comm. Devices, medical equipment, and makeshift weaponry.
The plan was to be stealthy; thus, two groups led the expedition. The smaller parties allowed for better stealth; should one group have the misfortune of being found, the other could remain secret.
"Jean will lead her unit across the Eastern Wing, along the path leading up from the shore, and approach Aegis' Outpost from its easternmost wall.
"Rene will lead his unit across the Western Wing, past the barracks, and approach Aegis' Outpost from its southernmost wall."
Braided-Hair Ruth declared their plan, short and simple, and passed a few torn pages from her notebook.
As always, her drawings paled in comparison to the fine writing of her words.
The information penned by Braided-Hair Ruth detailed a few observations from previous reconnaissance.
"From what was compiled by Carpediem's Vassal, The Blood-Crowned Monarchy, the Militia District spans an area of roughly twenty square kilometres.
"Both parties should reach the Aegis Outpost by midday, should no obstruction be faced, that is. Upon arrival, do not wait for the other party; breach the outpost immediately.
"The floor plan of the outpost was also provided by The Blood-Crowned Monarchy; I'll hand out the sketches in a moment."
The sun had yet to rise, but the momentum of day bridled with energy.
As the final hour came, Rene cast a glance over the dozen or so members of his temporarily formed 'Neighbouring Unit'.
"Are you alright, Captain Rene?"
Ruth questioned from beside him.
"Yes, Overseer... just checking our new teammates."
"Everyone is just about ready. We set off soon. Do you remember my words?"
"How could I?"
Rene sighed.
"Should we be the first to fall, don't bother acting as a distraction as previously agreed upon. Make it to Aegis' Outpost at all costs. Even if you show up alone."
Recalling those words, Rene couldn't help but turn his gaze to the east, where the other group was heading.
They had already set off, so he could not see Jean, Rose, or Braided-Hair Ruth off.
Turning around, he faced the street which would lead them west.
That street, masked in darkness, lit only by the faint starlight, awaited them.
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