Strictly speaking, this doesn't fit the terms of the prompt. These aren't my characters. They're Ops. But I mentioned this in passing, and OpMegs made the terrible mistake of asking for it...
Sylia steepled her fingers, the tips of her neatly-manicured nails clicking softly on each other. She rested her elbows on the desk, and peered over the top of the little triangle formed by her linked hands. Her expression was disapproving.
"So," she said, "we need to talk about how you handled the Statesman case."
The redhead squirmed in her chair, wilting beneath Sylia's glare.
"You have to understand, Nene," Sylia continued, "this whole affair was extremely high profile. The prospect that Statesman, the world's greatest hero, had somehow been ressurrected..."
Nene flushed, looking embarrassed.
Sylia shook her head. "I commend you on your work in deducing that the...new Statesman is an imposter. But you could have handled the public revelation with a greater degree of tact."
"I-I-I was tired," Nene spluttered, defensively, "I pulled an all-nighter analysing the camera footage of his movements, okay? Then I had to compare it to the data we had on all of Crey's Paragon Protectors, bioroids, and other artificial humans to prove that his combat style and body language suggested programming by..."
Sylia sighed. "I'm not dismissing your work, Nene. You did a good job. It's how you handled the press conference."
Nene sunk deeper into her chair.
* * * * * *
Earlier:
Net Sabre wasn't a very tall woman, even in her power armour. This meant the small forest of news network microphones being shoved in her direction - and a number of mobile phones and other recorders - took up a great deal of the camera shot. The rest was occupied by her shiny red helmet.
"I did a quick hack of the track," she sang, "now the truth is known! The Statesman is just a clone!"
EDIT: Because some folks didn't get it, and the gag's probably subtle...
-- Acyl
Sylia steepled her fingers, the tips of her neatly-manicured nails clicking softly on each other. She rested her elbows on the desk, and peered over the top of the little triangle formed by her linked hands. Her expression was disapproving.
"So," she said, "we need to talk about how you handled the Statesman case."
The redhead squirmed in her chair, wilting beneath Sylia's glare.
"You have to understand, Nene," Sylia continued, "this whole affair was extremely high profile. The prospect that Statesman, the world's greatest hero, had somehow been ressurrected..."
Nene flushed, looking embarrassed.
Sylia shook her head. "I commend you on your work in deducing that the...new Statesman is an imposter. But you could have handled the public revelation with a greater degree of tact."
"I-I-I was tired," Nene spluttered, defensively, "I pulled an all-nighter analysing the camera footage of his movements, okay? Then I had to compare it to the data we had on all of Crey's Paragon Protectors, bioroids, and other artificial humans to prove that his combat style and body language suggested programming by..."
Sylia sighed. "I'm not dismissing your work, Nene. You did a good job. It's how you handled the press conference."
Nene sunk deeper into her chair.
* * * * * *
Earlier:
Net Sabre wasn't a very tall woman, even in her power armour. This meant the small forest of news network microphones being shoved in her direction - and a number of mobile phones and other recorders - took up a great deal of the camera shot. The rest was occupied by her shiny red helmet.
"I did a quick hack of the track," she sang, "now the truth is known! The Statesman is just a clone!"
EDIT: Because some folks didn't get it, and the gag's probably subtle...
-- Acyl