Hunter HQ - Command Level

This deck once served as the command center of the Fort Sam Houston, and remains so today, restored and refit with the best in modern technology. Built in the shape of a broad semicircle, the command center's curved wall is dominated by sweeping observation windows- thick panels of reinforced glass ensuring durability while providing a panoramic and crystal-clear view of the surrounding tropical lagoon. An observation walk lining the inside of the windows offers an unobstructed approach to the view.

The room's focus, however, is the slightly raised platform in the middle, lined with consoles and computer banks, equipment to accomodate any need the Hunters may have. A matching host of monitors, displays and holo-projectors depend from the ceiling on heavy metal braces, within easy reach and view.

Bowie is sitting at one of the consoles, keeping an eye on the newsfeeds, among other things. He's lacking his hat and his duster, as that would involve a shopping trip to Texas. Whoever jumped him in Neo-Tokyo was no kinder to his wardrobe than to the rest of him.

Rock steps in off the gravlift, a datapad in his hand and eyes turned downwards. He moves without having to look up to find his chair, and slumps down in it, raptly watching something scroll by on the pad. Grunting slightly, he stops the run of data and looks up, blinking in surprise as he spots Bowie. "Hey, Bowie!" he says, blinking a few times before smiling. "You know, I was looking for you."

Bowie returns the smile, apologizing, "Sorry, Rock...in all the bit a craziness Ah'd all but fergot..."

Rock waves it off easily. "I know - I haven't exactly been the most present of people either lately, so it's all fair. Listen, you remember how we have our meeting-party thing coming up, right?"

Bowie nods. "Yep." Laconic as ever. He swivels his chair a bit to face Rock.

Rock turns his chair as well, leaning on the arm as if the two were best pals having a lazy chat. His eyes glitter brightly with surpressed amusement, and the Hunter nods eagerly. "Good, good. Well, I've been doing all this squad reorganizing too, into somewhat more specialized squads rather than the catchalls we have now. It's pretty boring stuff, admittedly." He seems to be leading up to something, oddly.

Bowie nods again. Sounds perfectly logical. His smile remains steady as they chat. "So Ah heard. Noticed we got a lot a new faces too. So havin jus a few squads is gettin right unweildly..."

Rock nods in agreement. "Sure is," he sighs, but it's a pleased noise. "There's a lot of good people out there. Anyway - I've managed to hash it out to two all-purpose combat squads, a raid operations squad, and a special operations squad for intelligence and such." He holds out the datapad to Bowie, a little grin quirking. "This means I need some commanding officers and executive officers for these new squads. I'm the sort of guy that likes to see people get their chance, so... I'd like to put you as Mike's second in charge of one of the combat squads."

Bowie takes the datapad from Rock, turning his gaze on it. His brow furrows slightly, though for a moment it's hard to say whether it's from what he's reading or what he's hearing. "Ya sure ya both want me fer the job," he says, his tone placing it somewhere between statement and question.

Rock nods slowly at that, watching Bowie thoughtfully. "Yes," he says quietly, earnestly. "I do think that your experience and skill will be an asset in such a position. You've demonstrated that you can think under pressure, you're able to move into action, and you're also liked among Hunters." He quirks a little smile at that, dropping his chin into his hand - his eyes, however, are cool and calculating as he watches the Hunter across from him.

On the surface, Bowie is as he usually is, calm, collected. Yet his smile has faded, and there's a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. There is a long pause before the former Ranger speaks again. "Ah've made mistakes 'fore, made bad judgements."

Rock tilts his head slightly, the corners of his eyes tightening as he suppresses a smile. Bad judgements? He's made his share in the past, but now's not the time to point that out. "Tell me about them," he invites, voice surprisingly gentle.

Bowie's brow furrows slightly, hesitant to speak at first. Words have not always been easy for him. Teaking his gaze off the datapad (which he probably wasn't reading anyway), he looks over at Rock again. "Mind if we make this conversation more private?" Something the Command Center most definitely is not.

Rock shakes his head as he stands up from his chair. "Of course not," he says easily, looking towards the Meeting Room. "C'mon, we'll go over here. No one's ever in there," is the simple explanation as he moves for the door, pressing the button to make the doors slide open with a soft 'phsst'.

Bowie nods and stands up, following him into the other room. Not sure what to do with the datapad, he brings it along.

Rock enters the Hunter HQ - Meeting Room.

Rock has left.

Hunter HQ - Meeting Room

This room, once the office of the CO of the Fort Sam Houston, now serves a new commander, and new purposes. A large desk sits at the end of the room, simple in design, but surrounded by the relics that once held a special place in this chamber. One one side, a case holds a fine steel blade, elaborately decorated in gold floral patterns. The pearl and brass handle, tapers into a lion's head, with a decorated brass sheath. Opposite, another case holds the Republic of Texas battle flag that Houston carried into the Battle of San Jacinto.

At the centermost of this room is a broad conference table- its surface a polished blue grid, a holo-projector capable of displaying all manner of maps and information. The table itself, like that of King Arthur's court before it, is large and round to accomodate many Hunters, all equally. Comfortable chairs are always in reach... with a few larger, more comfortable seats set aside for command staff.

Light flickers in from outside, complimenting the concealed track lighting that gives this refurbished chamber all the light necessary for planning Maverick Hunter activities. It is generally quiet in here, and is a good place to think undisturbed, with only the natural scenery and ancient relics to keep one company.

Rock pauses a moment at the doors to flick on the lights in the room, and looks around with a small smile. "You know," he remarks with a soft chuckle, "it's almost a pity this room doesn't get much use. It's pretty nice, as far as meeting rooms go." Heading towards the chairs, he waves Bowie to one with an easy motion. "It looked like trash when we first found it, though... I'm glad we were able to salvage some of the relics."

Bowie glances around as they come in. He got to gee the room on the penny tour, but he's never spent much time in here. The Texan sets the pad aside on the table, but he doesn't take the offered seat. A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth, his gaze finally settling on the sword case. Again, it takes him a long moment to speak. "Ah never told y'all why Ah quit the Rangers. Ah know it's not been a big deal, seein we all got thangs in the past we ain't proud a doin."

Rock wanders along the length of the room, wandering towards the battle flag's case and looking it over thoughtfully. "You haven't shared, no," he agrees after a moment. "I figured that when you were ready to tell us, you would. There's no point in forcing, you know?" He turns slightly, hands behind his back, and smiles quietly. "And it must be a big deal to you, to make you frown so much." His face creases gently, into a softer expression of understanding. "I won't judge you on your past, Bowie, and what you say here will never leave this room. On my honour."

Bowie stands where he is, not quite at 'parade rest', his shoulders slightly hunched, arms folded across his chest. He gives a small nod, still hesitant but accepting. Rock's kept his word before, and he trusts him. "It wus back las July...doubt it ever made the big news, whut with the Eurasia." He pauses again, lowering his eyes. "Mah partner an Ah were after two Mavs that escaped frum prision. Chased 'em frum Plano t'Dallas. Word wus they had a hostage, too."

Rock nods quietly, leaning back against the flag case, hands stowed into his pockets thoughtfully as he listens. "Sounds about the Maverick MO," he remarks with a shake of his head.

Bowie's words normally come at a trickle. Now, they come in a torrent. As if he's afraid that if he doesn't speak them now, he might not be able to finish. "Yeah. An we couldn't let 'em get away. Follwed 'em down the ol Trans-Texas Freeway. It was gettin t'be rushour, and traffic wus pickin up. Jackal thought we should pull back, but Ah wanted t'keep goin. If we called it off, chances were we'd never find em again later. So we kept up the chase."

He shakes his head slowly, helplessly. "Thay led us off the freeway int'the city, right t'downtown. Thay kept weaven all through the streets, goin any which way....that train, it came outta nowhare..." He trails off for a moment. When he continues, his voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Ah tried t'pull back, 'fore we hit. But thay...thay jus kept goin."

Rock's brow furrows, a grimace crossing his face as he watches Bowie, eyes sympathetic. "What happened?" he asks in a soft murmur, almost dreading the answer.

Bowie stares at the floor, as if seeing his answer written there. "It wus movin fast, one a those new commuter trains, an thay hit it hard. Ah tried t'steer us clear, but..." He shakes his head again, and sighs. "Twenty-six people died that day, most a'em civilians." A pause. "Jackal...he didn't make it either." He scuffs his boot along the floor. "Me, Ah woke up back at EIT a week later. 'Parently thay found 'nough a me t'piece back together."

Rock bows his head quietly, eyes closed as he listens. "I can only imagine how you must have felt," he remarks quietly. "I'm sorry, Bowie. But you did the right thing - you were trying to stop Mavericks. You can't blame yourself for it forever," he notes. "Otherwise it'll kill you," he adds, voice muted.

Bowie sighs again, quietly, a few locks of hair having fallen into his face. "Ah know." Another long pause. He's good at those. "Ah want t'do right. Otherwise, Ah wouldn't be here."

Pushing away from the flag, Rock makes his way back to Bowie. As he draws to a halt beside the other Hunter, he gently pats the Reploid's shoulder. He can understand the need to do right, to correct past wrongs. "And you've shown that you can do right. Heck, you have done right since you've been here, and I can't think of anyone better to take this position. Never forget your past, and continue to learn from it."

Bowie finally tears his gaze from the floor, focusing on Rock but not quite meeting his eyes. Even so, he stands a little taller now that his burden has been shared. No smile yet, but at least the frown is no longer so pronounced. "If ya still want me fer the job, Ah'll do it. But Ah didn't want ya t'make ya decide without knowin."

Rock grins lopsidedly as he looks up at Bowie. "I do still want you for the job," he remarks simply. "I know you'll do great. I think I'm more sure of it now than ever, too," is the quiet musing before he shakes his head. "Anyway. That datapad should list your squad, and have the associated personnel files with them."

Bowie nods, then walks over to retrieve the pad. "Right." One last pause. "Thanks fer your confidence."

"You're most welcome, Bowie," Rock answers with a smile. "Anyway, I'm going to see to some last minute things for the meeting tonight, and start setting up and all that. Please, feel free to settle in and all that. Do you have any questions?" he asks, heading for the door but pausing as he looks back expectantly.

Bowie shakes his head in answer. "But if Ah thank a somethang, you'll know." A smile almost forms, a good sign. "See ya tonight."