Chapter 42 - Cosmia
By mgangel1124 and _Boxers_
“GOOOOOOOOD MOOOORNING, ORLY!” The radio announcer hollered with his usual cheer. “First, let’s kick things off with some news headlines. The mysterious cult known as Geass has continued its hold in the west, but we’ll have more on that later. Also in that area, doctors are perplexed by a strange outbreak of pinkeye that seems to last for only seconds or minutes. Meanwhile in the Land of the Red Dot, ongoing droughts have led to reports of a water demon taking residence in a young boy’s stomach. It’s about eleven A.M, a sunny 72 degrees, and trapar waves are low. Oh, and by the way, THERE’S A WAR GOING ON OUTSIDE! We’ll be right back with more news and some music after a word from our sponsors!”
“Are you tired? Under the weather? Spirit feeling run down? Then come on over to Urahara’s Shop! We’ve got just what you need to get your power back up to full strength! Our new soul candy will have you feeling like-”
“HURRY, SOMEONE FIND SPACE EEN ZE EENFEERMARY! ZERE’S TOO MUCH BLOOD!” Hikki screamed as he dragged an unconscious Samson into the building. How could it have gone this wrong? There were plans. There were strategies, provisions, rations, a thousand great minds put together just for this. They’d had weapons ready. They’d trained for hours on end. They’d gathered information about Ozzal and her forces. With all that going for them, everything they had or could possibly have, why weren’t they winning...?
********
“So what are we dealing with?” Cougar asked. In typical fashion, he tapped a pencil quickly against the table top, beating out an unreadable pattern that implied that the whole meeting wasn't going fast enough. A small group of the Syndicate was sitting around the table listening to Sadar’s report, all anxious to hear the news.
“The military is preparing to attack. I’d give it two months at most,” Sadar announced grimly. “It’s as if they’re preparing for a full-scale war. Mustang, how is training coming along?”
“Not well. At the rate they’re working, they’ll be destroyed,” Roy answered. “If we kick up the training to eight or ten hours a day, maybe they’ll stand a chance. Maybe. Still, we’ll need a better cache of weapons as well. As for where we’re supposed to get those-”
“Hey, whatever happened to those big caravans full of supplies we took over awhile ago?” Clarice interrupted.
Roy stopped and looked around the room at the others, his face blank except for the tugging corner of his mouth that showed annoyance. “You mean, we had a stash of weapons this entire time, and no one bothered to tell me?” He facepalmed with a dramatic sigh. “That’s just…wonderful. I’ll have Havoc take stock of it all and outfit the troops.”
“Alright. Lloyd, how are you doing on the Knightmares?”
“We have one ready, but I’m afraid we won’t have time to finish them all before the fight starts. Larry is skilled, but the two of us aren’t enough. It’d be great if we could get another scientist on board…”
********
Matrix was angry – very, very angry. He walked into the lab to see several of HIS assistants hauling HIS experiments out of the room. “W-what the hell are you doing? Who told you to do that?!”
“Sorry, sir,” one assistant said sheepishly, carrying out a large, complicated-looking machine with tentacles. “Ms. Chawla needs more room for her Knightmares. She said she ran it by Ozzal and got permission.”
“Why wasn’t I told?!”
The assistant shrugged. “Dunno. You’d have to ask her.” He shifted the machine in his arms and walked out.
Matrix looked around and found his antagonist lying on her couch, as usual. He strode over, nearly tripping on an assistant trying to dismantle a menacing piece of work, and glared at her. “Rakshata, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
The woman blew out smoke from her pipe. At first, it didn't even seem like she'd acknowledge him, but finally she replied, “Oh yes. Your toys were taking up too much room, so Ozzal said I could throw them away.”
“And you didn’t feel the need to ask me first?! Damn it, Rakshata, what is your problem?!”
She looked at him with boredom. “You’re in my way,” she said as though it were the easiest, most recognizable answer in the world, before picking up a clipboard and reading over the Knightmare’s information. At that point, Matrix knew many things for good. He knew their conversation was done, and Rakshata had her way – for now. He knew he had to go to Ozzal and get things straightened out if he wanted things to change. He’d been working for her longer, surely he was the favorite and she’d side with him, right?
It took Matrix four minutes and thirty-four seconds to get to the large, mahogany doors that signified his employer's office. “Um, Governor Ozzal? Can I have a word with you?” Matrix stepped into her lair without knocking, knowing that she'd just send him away if he had. “It’s Rakshata, she’s taken over my lab. Could you talk to her and set her straight?”
“Yeah, no. She’s in charge. Now bring me some more Hot Pockets,” Ozzal said without looking up and immediately waved her hand for him to leave.
For a minute or two, he merely stood there and felt helpless. So that was it. The end. Fin. Ozzal didn’t want him, Rakshata didn’t need him, and God only knew what Amy was up to. He wasn’t appreciated there, and he’d been unhappy at his job for a long time now. Well, fine then – if he wasn't wanted, wasn't needed, it was time to make a change of employment. Go somewhere where what he knew of Ozzal, what he knew of what he was leaving behind, would be an advantage to him...
********
On their side of town, Hill, Q, and the others were going over what they knew of the Syndicate for what felt like – and probably was – the millionth time.
“Okay, so this Hikki Follett person is their leader, and we’re supposed to arrest him on sight...but it just doesn’t feel right,” Q said as she rubbed her temples.
“I know what you mean,” Al agreed. “He’s supposed to be this ‘Anti-Citizen One’, but really, what’s he done that was so bad?”
“Well, there was that building that exploded when they were involved in that scuffle, but other than that, nothing really,” Keith conceded.
Q groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “What do you think, Jude?”
Hill looked up wearily. “I think there’s no reason to arrest an innocent man.”
It didn’t take more talking for the four of them to come to an agreement not to pursue the leader of the Syndicate. There was no sense to it, especially when so many other things were happening in the world.
An hour or two later, Q and Hill were on their way to have a quick lunch when she suddenly slammed on the car’s brakes. Hill was flung forward, banging his head on the window. “What the hell, woman? You’re going to kill me one day,” he snapped reproachfully as he rubbed his forehead.
“Over there,” she said, already getting out of the car. Hill followed her gaze in time to notice the dark-haired young girl with the grocery bag walk down an alley, and the menacing-looking man following her. Hill stumbled to catch up with her quick steps, but by the time they’d managed across the street, slowed down by Hill's not-fully-healed injuries, the man was already in the alley with her. A shrill screech echoed through the air as Q came to a skidding halt at the mouth of the alley – the man was threatening the child with a knife, brandishing it wildly and demanding money. Later on, Q would stop to think about how desperate he really looked, and she would've thought more on the subject, but at that point, Hill was in front of her like a shield, keeping her close to him.
“I think you should leave her alone,” Hill called out in the most confident tone he could bring together. The thug turned around and eyed him for a moment – only a moment's hesitation – and immediately lunged at him, blade at the ready. Hill simply sidestepped, dodging the attack, then landed a sickening blow to the side of his slow head. The grimy man swayed dangerously in all directions before falling, making one last grasp at the British man's coat before falling unconscious. Disdainfully, Hill shook off the large palm. “Call for back-up,” he murmured into Q's ear, “I'll handle the child.” In response to Q's confused look (“Shouldn't I be the one taking care of the girl?” she thought), he replied with a laugh, “I don't think I can make it back to the car in one piece.”
By the time Q got back to the scene of the crime, the little girl was explaining what all had happened in slow, precise words. All of her groceries had been put back from whence they came. Hill was waving his hand about in response, probably assuring her of something, but she was shaking her head.
“No, that’s alright. I should be fine getting back on my own,” she said. Her eyes darted nervously to Q as she approached, to Hill, to the ground, and then all around again.
Q put her hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, you look pretty shaken up. What’s your name?”
“A-Anne Monroe,” she said quietly, almost a whisper. “But really, I can walk home, it’s no problem. It's not far.”
“It doesn’t feel right just leaving you alone after that. You can use my phone to call someone to come get you,” Q said with a smile. Anne was a strong little girl, no doubt, but she looked a bit shaken up, and really, Q couldn't blame her.
“Well, I have an older brother…” she said as Q offered her a cell phone. She took it, avoiding the woman's fingers, quickly dialed and spoke with someone in a hushed voice, then hung up. As if the phone was poisonous or incredibly hot, she quickly pressed it back into Q's palm.
“Do you want us to stay with you while you wait?” Hill said in his confident voice. Anne jumped a bit, as if she had forgotten he was there, but her reply was just as confident – if not more.
“No, you two go on. I can wait for him in that café over there,” Anne pointed to a small restaurant a few shops down.
“Alright, if you’re sure –“ Q began, but the girl was already taking off down the alleyway, her groceries clutched tightly to her chest.
“Thank you!” Anne called behind her as she ducked into the doorway.
“…Well, that was interesting,” Hill commented after a few moments of odd silence. “Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Q replied. A clock chimed somewhere in the distance, maybe even on the far side of town. “Oh, it’s getting late,” she thought aloud, “We better get back.” She took hold of his sleeve and began to head towards the car, but she didn’t stop him when she felt him free his arm and close his fingers around her own.
********
He was lost. He didn’t even know how to contact anyone from the Syndicate, let alone find their headquarters. Part of him regretted not putting a tracking device in Angel during their last altercation; at least finding her would have been a step in the right direction. And it would've opened all sorts of windows for revenge that, backtracking on those thoughts, was better meant for someone else. He’d read all the files on the Syndicate and its known members that he could get his hands on (which had been easier than he thought), but just names and incredibly vague information gave him nothing. It had been hours and he was still no closer to meeting them. Sitting in a café with a coffee, he saw a police car drive by and wondered when Ozzal would realize he’d left. Would she even try to get him back? No, probably not, he thought to himself, there's Rakshata now.
“Perfect Rakshata. Goddammit,” Matrix hissed, pushing the black coffee away.
He was about to leave when he saw a young man with black hair enter. The man – hardly even a man, maybe in his early twenties – looked around as if in a daze. Finally, he became aware and spotted his target, taking quick steps over to a young girl with a grocery bag. The family resemblance was obvious, as both of them had almost identical features, black hair and soft eyes. There was something about him that seemed familiar, Matrix pondered, but for the moment, he chalked it up to the average every-man look.
“Hi Sammy,” the girl chirped as she stood up enthusiastically.
“Anne, what’s going on? What’s with the weird number you called me on…”
Matrix had stopped listening, wracking his brain to figure out how he knew the man. No, it couldn't be that every-man look, because not every man looked that painfully familiar. They were leaving, the man grabbing the bag for his little sister, but Matrix paid no attention as he stared continually into space. His eyes widened when it all clicked. That was one of the people he'd read about earlier that day, Samson Monroe, age 21. Orphaned with one younger sister, Anne, that little girl, yes! Of course! A member of the Syndicate!
Matrix quickly stood up and hurried to catch up to them, tripping over his own feet and crashing headfirst into the door as it closed. “YOU! WAIT, I MEAN IT, WAIT THERE!” he cried spectacularly as he ran to the sibling pair, who hadn't made it far from the entrance of the café. Once there, he doubled over and clutched his knees, panting too hard to talk. More than once he signaled them with a one-moment-please finger, but by the time he managed to work himself back to standing, they were staring oddly and shifting away from him anyway. “Um, hello there,” he began nervously, “Hi. This is gonna sound weird, but I’ve been looking for you all day. Well, not you exactly, I’ve been looking for the Syndicate. Anyone from the Syndicate. You see, I wanted to join. So, do you need anything? Any help? I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to science. Actually, I - ”
The man, Samson, perked up. “Wait, you’re a scientist? That’s great! We could really use more people that know their way around a mecha. Do you know - ”
“Mecha? Like Knightmares? I was just working on those at my last job,” Matrix rushed through the sentence at high speed and smiled. Things were going better than he’d hoped. Samson grinned back, then murmured for him to wait just a sec. He took out his phone and dialed a number at a lightning pace.
“Hikki, is Lloyd there? No, I need to talk to him, not you. Wh – No, that doesn't mean I don't like you! Just put Lloyd on! Jeez...Thank you...Lloyd? Great news, I found us someone to help him in the lab…Yeah, he said he has some experience with them…Oh, I didn’t ask yet,” Samson covered the bottom of the phone faced him. “What’s your name? They’re asking for it.”
“Oh,” Matrix’s smile faltered. He hoped their need for scientists was greater than the desire to murder him that he just knew lurked in the halls of their establishment or...whatever they had. “It’s Matrix.”
Samson’s face went blank. “…Hikki? I’ve gotta call you back. Something just came up.”
********
“Angel is going to kill us when she finds out,” Clarice stated with a quick glasses push-up.
Samson shrugged, but he didn't look as nonchalant as he had wanted to seem. “What else can we do? He knows how to build Knightmares, plus he’s got all that intel about the ones Ozzal’s making. And he said he’s even got medical skills. You know that’ll come in handy when the fight starts.”
“I know. I don’t envy the poor guy who gets to break the news to her though. He’ll be dead before he even sees the fight,” Clarice replied, completely serious.
They'd been walking to find Roy, to check up on his troops, but Samson stopped and lightly pulled on her sleeve. She paused as well, stopping to look over her shoulder at him. Her eyebrow quirked questioningly. “You know, we’re going up against the military on this. There’s a good chance a lot of people aren’t coming back from this,” he began.
She nodded and slowly replied, “Yeah...It’s depressing to think about, huh?”
“Well, I really hope neither of us end up being one of those people. You know, I’ve been thinking about after this is all over, what I want to do…” He was rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, the other still latched onto her forearm.
“Really?” Clarice looked at him, puzzled.
“Yeah. And I was thinking – that if we both make it out with our lives - “ he swallowed hard - “I’d like to spend mine with you. So...do you think you might want togetmarriedorsomethinglater?”
Clarice’s eyes bulged. “Samson, did you just propose to me?”
He laughed anxiously. “Yeah, I guess I did. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. That's fine. I rushed it. Just take some time and think it over, please, I - ”
He stopped talking when she reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’d love to,” she said, smiling.
They stood there for a long time, as if the world had paused just for this embrace. Neither of them saw Hikki walk out of a room down the hall with tears in his eyes. Without looking up, nor saying a word, he quickly took off in the other direction.
********
“…but at least they’ve got weapons that work now,” Roy said to Havoc as they walked leisurely down the hall. Training had been called early in order to get the new scientist settled in with the Syndicate's matters “It’s not much, but it’s…” he stopped talking when Angel passed them, nodding quickly but never once looking up.
“You need to talk to her,” Havoc said flatly. He didn't bother hiding his tone – he was sick of their back and forth anxiety. Roy opened his mouth to argue, but Havoc pushed on, determined to get it over with. “Look, I know something happened between them. I don’t know what and I don’t really care. But I’m sick of watching the two of you awkwardly skirt around each other. Whatever it was, Hawkeye wouldn’t want you acting like this. Now, go say something.” He shoved Mustang back a bit and walked on alone, lighting a cigarette as he went.
Roy didn't move immediately. Did he really want to know what had happened between Angel and his past love? Then again, did he really want to be separated from his last connection to Riza? Acting on impulse, he turned sharply on his heel and ran after the red-head.
“Err, Angel?” Roy said, catching up with her. She moved fast – already, she'd barreled through two hallways by the time he reached her.
“Hi,” she muttered, not meeting his eye.
He coughed into his fist awkwardly, then jammed a hand into his pants pocket. “Yeah…” he began slowly. After that, they fell into a drifting pace with each other, strange silence between them. “...Well…I’m sorry,” Roy continued, “This isn’t really a situation that I expected to find myself in, I don’t know how exactly I’m supposed to handle it.”
Angel smiled weakly. “I know what you mean. I really like you, but this does throw a pretty big wrench into things.”
The two of them stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. A couple times they just stared at each other until one looked away, but for the most part, they observed the walls over each other's shoulders. As if God had send a welcome distraction, a scream of terror sailed in from the direction of the lab. “That sounds like that Larry kid,” Roy thought aloud. Exchanging last glances, the pair took off at the same time.
********
“Y-Y-Y-YOU!?” Larry screeched, diving under the table to put distance between himself and his new offender. “WHY ARE YOU HERE? OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T TAKE ME BACK. NOT THE TENTACLES. NOT THE TENTACLES NOT THE-”
“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Lloyd snapped irritably. “You’re going to damage something important if you don’t calm down!”
Matrix was surprised, but the smile on his face merely showed amusement. “Larry? So this is where you went when you left! Heh, I guess we had the same idea.” He reached down to help Larry up, but the other man kicked his hand away, trying to shimmy out of sight.
“NO! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES!” he kept wailing. Lloyd rolled his eyes and plugged his ears before wandering away in the opposite direction.
“Hey Larry, are you okay in here?” Angel asked as she and Roy walked in, failing to notice Matrix at first.
“TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTA-”
Angel was sorely tempted to follow Lloyd's actions, but instead, she reached down and quickly slapped him, effectively shutting him up.
“Is he okay?” Roy asked with a weirded-out look on his face.
“Is he done, more like. Traumatic flashback,” Lloyd answered from across the room. “He tends to do that if something strongly reminds him of his time working for Ozzal. Like if his old boss were to wander in and – oh look, there he is now.”
Confused, they turned around to see said boss – or at least, they would've, had Matrix not realized that Angel was there and decided to hide behind Larry. “Hey Larry, any room in Crazy Freakout Land for me?” Angel snarled, glaring at the nervous scientist.
“Angel? Who is this guy?” Roy was out of the loop and still confused.
“This would be Matrix, one of Ozzal’s top scientists and the man who killed my father,” she hissed, and stormed out of the room, but not before greeting her past friend with a lovely crude hand gesture.
The following two months were very awkward for them.
********
Cille gawked at the man in front of her in mute horror. Her gaze moved between the lifeless body on the ground to the gun in her shaking hand. She should have listened to Cougar. He’d told her not to go out, to just stay at headquarters and help however she could there. She had insisted that she’d learned enough about fighting to face Ozzal’s forces with the others. Many of her would-be opponents had ignored her, getting involved with other members of the Syndicate. That one man however had decided to challenge her. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself firing the gun at him almost as if it was a reflex, and he went down. His dull eyes stared unfocused in her direction.
She’d just killed someone for the first time in her life. There was now blood on her hands that she could never wash off. Had he had a family, a wife, children? Was there a little girl waiting somewhere for a father that would never come home? Unable to handle the events that just took place, her brain shut itself off. She sat there on the ground, staring at her victim, failing to realize her position left her in considerable danger. She was a sitting duck for the soldier that approached from behind. She snapped out of her trance, gasping when she heard the gunshot in her ear…
…And saw yet another enemy fall down dead in front of her, courtesy of the person still standing behind her.
“Get up, you have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous,” a familiar voice said.
She turned around quickly, recognizing her savior. It had been so long, but that voice still was fresh in her mind. “Eric!” she cried thankfully, surprised, as he helped her stand up. “When did you get back?”
“A few hours ago,” he said as he half-dragged her back towards the base. “Who let you out to fight? Cougar needs to do a better job keeping an eye on you.” She winced.
An explosion went off in the distance, sending a warm wind and ash to greet them. More went off in succession – Eric picked up the pace.
“But where have you been? You didn’t even say good bye,” she murmured, feeling weary and sick.
“It’s a long story and it involves that guy who sells those Sham-Wow things. I’ll tell you about it some other time,” he said curtly. “Can’t you move any faster? You’re going to get yourself killed out here.”
“I deserve it. I killed someone, Eric,” she said in a ghost of a whisper. She started to cry, and made no effort to hide it.
“Yeah, and then I killed someone else who would have done the same to you and felt a lot less guilty,” Eric snorted. “That’s the way war is, Cille. You can’t expect to win without getting your hands dirty. It’s a fact of life,” he told her. She knew Eric wouldn't take any of her crap, but inwardly, she begged him to understand and side with her just this once – there was something different, just different, between her killing someone and a random man doing the same thing.
“How do you do it? Just shoot someone so easily, and just go on unfazed?” She asked him. Her eyes projected her message, but Eric wouldn't read it.
“Lots of experience and lots of alcohol,” he said simply as they reached headquarters. He opened the door and lightly pushed her inside. “You’re not cut out for war,” he stated conclusively, “Stay inside and help however you can.” Eric took a moment to give his old friend one more look-over – her body shook almost violently, and he knew that no matter how much someone could tell her it wasn't a bad thing, she'd never believe it. Besides maybe Cougar...
Without another word, he reloaded his gun and made his way back to the battlefield to take her place.
********
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Samson asked Clarice as they walked to their Knightmares. He was nervous, but Clarice couldn't blame him – they all were. The air all throughout the compound had practically been made out of anxiety for the past month.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, touching his arm lightly. “You know how much I’ve trained for this. Besides, you heard Lloyd. He said I worked perfectly with my machine.”
“Yes, yes, you’re a natural. Now get out there and gather me some more data,” Lloyd called from his control panel. The ghost of a smile that had started on Samson's face quickly disappeared.
“At least keep your radio channels open, okay?” Samson asked her fretfully.
“Sure thing,” she responded with a smile.
“And remember not to push yourself if you run low on ammo.”
“I know.”
“And don’t forget to-”
“MON DIEU, SAMSON, LET’S GO!” Hikki yelled, already settled in his seat of their joint Knightmare. The Frenchman practically oozed irritation, as he had been doing recently whenever he was around Samson. Did he hear? flashed through Clarice's head, but she waved it off without a second thought.
“You heard the man,” Clarice said, flashing him a calming smile as she strode over to her own machine. Samson turned, not calmed in the least, and joined Hikki in theirs, finally noticing the Frenchman's unhappy disposition.
“Hey Hikki, are you upset about something?” he pried cautiously.
“What? Oh, no. I’m fine. Just nerves, I guess,” Hikki lied with an airy scoff. Yes, he was still broken up over their engagement, but he knew that now was definitely not the time to bring it up. Especially not now...But still, that wouldn't prevent him from being, as Angel would say, “a total bitch.”
By the time they reached the battlefield, the war had already started. Wreckage stood out at first, Knightmares and tanks and all sorts of things, followed by the bodies which (Thank every deity I know of, Samson thought) were unrecognizable to them. They’d only been out for a few minutes, mainly scouting the area at first, when they heard Clarice through their radio.
“Look out, I see a big guy coming at you. He looks like he means busi - ” Her words were cut off by a loud crashing noise, followed by eerie silence. Immediately, Samson panicked. Had his fianceé become just another one of those giant piles of scrap metal that littered the field? In fear, he quickly began to adjust the radio, crying out her name on every channel but barely waiting for a response. It wasn't too long before a staticky message came through – it sounded far off, like from the end of a tunnel, but Samson thanked God that it might only be a damaged transmitter. “Sorr--, anoth---Knightm------She’s a tough ----”
“Clarice? Are you alright? Clarice? CLARICE?” He shouted, trying to reach her again. Without thinking, he opened his mouth to tell Hikki to turn around, they had to go help her, but a rumble that shook the entire frame of the Knightmare stopped him. It started soft and grew and grew until he himself was trembling. Only then did he notice the large, impressive looking Knightmare that was landing right in front of them.
“My name is Bismark Waldstein, Knight of the Round. Prepare to die,” a stern, icy voice muttered over the transmitter. Samson felt his heart sink back into his gut.
Meanwhile, Clarice had her hands full with one of Bismark’s associates. The pilot behind the Knightmare in front of her had to be experienced, probably older, and had to be a fighting genius. Clarice, while starting just recently, was no novice, but even she was taking a good beat-down from her opponent.
“Who are you?” she asked, managing to narrowly dodge a swipe from her opponent’s sword.
“I am Anya Alstreim,” the pilot of the Knightmare said, flat and monotone The voice itself both shocked and worried Clarice – there was no way that pilot could be anything other than a fifteen year old girl.
“I won't go easy on you,” she responded, drawing her own weapon.
“Good.”
Bismark lunged forward, swinging his sword at Hikki and Samson’s Knightmare. Their coordination was off – while Hikki pulled the Knightmare to the left, Samson dodged to the right, and as a result, a large chunk was taken out of one of the arms.
“Aaak! Sacre bleu!” Hikki yelped as they were rattled around in the cockpit. “Samson, how badly was ze arm damaged?”
“Pretty bad. It’s barely moving when I’m pushing it full force,” Samson answered, frantically pressing buttons in an attempt to bring the limb back to life. Hikki began to sweat; he was having difficulty defending the rest of the Frame from Bismark’s attacks as his partner kept trying to fix the defunct arm. Bismarck was incredibly skilled, he wouldn't deny it. In fact, he was probably the best in his squadron, platoon, mon dieu he's –
Retreating.
Bismarck was retreating.
Hikki let a small, relieved laugh slip, and he slumped in his seat. Eef zat's how all battles are going to be, he thought, well zen, monsieur, feel free to count moi right out.
HIKKI?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HE'S CHARGING AGAIN, I DON'T HAVE THIS ARM FIXED! DO SOMETHING!” Samson screeched. His own eyes confirmed Samson's words, and indeed, Bismarck was coming. Samson was blathering with blurred, rapid speech about how he must've just been gaining speed, that's it, and now he had a spear pointed directly at the lower half of the Knightmare's cockpit.
********
Clarice groaned as Anya slammed her into a large tree. Although the other girl’s flight gear had been badly damaged, she’d lost her sword and now had to rely purely on the fact that her Knightmare was larger. Anya may have had the advantage in weapons, but she at least could take a hit. A few tactical strategies flew through Clarice's mind. Hit and run wouldn't do any good, she'd be at it all night and she didn't have the skill for it. A full-out brute strength assault just wouldn't do either, not without any weapons.. Suddenly, she smiled. That was it, of course it was.
Clarice set her controls for full speed ahead and rammed into Anya as hard as she could with enough force to knock her over. Taking advantage of Anya’s momentary surprise, she wrenched the sword out of her hand and severed the cockpit from the rest of the Frame. Hours had passed inside of Clarice's Knightmare from the first time she adjusted the controls to the end of it, but in retrospect, it could've only been about twenty seconds total.
Anya looked up at Clarice’s Knightmare, only the barest hint of shock on her face. “I…lost…” she said, more as a confirmation to herself than an admission to her opponent.
As soon as she was sure that Anya didn't have any other tricks up her Knightmare's metal sleeve, Clarice jumped onto her radio communication system. It'd been forgotten about in the fight, but she remembered how terrified Samson had sounded, and quickly, she began flipping through channels. “Samson, I know you were worried, but I’m fine. I won!” she said proudly before it hit her that all she could hear was static everywhere she turned. The realization that he and Hikki could be under attack hit her like a train.
********
There was a sickening crunch as Bismark’s sword connected with the center of their Knightmare, just barely missing their compartment. Samson looked over at Hikki and grinned sheepishly, sure that the mis-aimed attack had failed. Not a moment later, the lights went out and the screens went blank. A loud squawk echoed from the other side of their compartment, followed by a pounding sound – he knew his companion was slamming every button within his reach to try and get something, anything to work. Bismarck's intentions were now crystal clear; he’d gone straight for their power source. The Knightmare was effectively paralyzed.
********
Hikki was violently swearing in French as the pounding went on and on for what seemed like hours. “Hikki, it’s no use,” Samson muttered, groping around in the dark to find the other's shoulder. “We can’t fight anymore.”
“Idiot! That’s the last thing on my mind. If we don’t find the eject button, we’re as good as dead,” Hikki snapped, shrugging the hand off. His French swears were quickly drowned out by something else. A low grinding and whirring sound, just like they'd heard moments before. In barely half a second, Samson knew that Bismarck was backing up for another attack; this time, his sword was going to be pointed higher, right at the cockpit.
********
Emiri brushed her hair out of her face for the thirty-millionth time. Truth be told, she’d missed the fighting. It had been a long time since she’d had a good spar, and she was excited for it. Or at least, as excited as Kira would let her be. Constantly, he reminded her of the dangers of this war, what could happen and what she couldn't allow happen. Like I've never seen battle before. Her knuckles were whiter than bone as she clamped the hilt of her chain-sword in anticipation “KIRA!” she yelled. “GET ME A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS, I WANNA GET OUT THERE ALEADY!”
Kira sighed as he stepped over the threshold into the waiting room. “Just be careful. It’s been awhile since you’ve done this. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he warned, holding the bottle out of her reach until he was finished. She snatched it from his hand, looking rather displeased with him, and wasted no time in busting it open.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” she downed the entire thing in record speed, and Kira winced when he thought of her liver, which had probably hardly healed since the last time she had done this.
“Stop bitching. Who the hell do you think I am? I'll be fine.” The cocky smile spread across her face wasn't very reassuring. He sighed again, rubbing his temples. “Just...Come back, okay?” he said under his breath. With an even brighter smile, Emiri lunged out the door and into the battle without saying another word.
Kira returned to his station in the infirmary, tending to the injured. It was going to be a long night.
********
Amy had had a lot of spare time lately. With both Larry and Matrix gone, and Rakshata's no-need attitude towards her, there'd been absolutely no work for her in the least.
So, of course, in typical Amy fashion, she'd found something else to amuse her.
It had started with just random bits of scrap she'd found about the lab, but since evolved into whatever she could get her hands on. That day, the toy was long and had a couple different layers of whatever, and was probably battery for something that Amy figured she probably couldn't comprehend anyway, but it had colors everywhere and wires and more colors...
Rakshata had been gone all morning, probably taking over Ozzal's couch in an attempt to wheedle the hag into buying her more things. Amy plopped down in her place, stretching out languidly and mock-laughing airily. She flung her hand out in mock-displeasure, and the battery went flying, bouncing off of a nearby machine (which, in Amy's opinion, wasn't nearly as cool as Matrix's old stuff) and soaring under the famed piece of furniture.
“Whoops~.”
With agility and grace only a child could manage, she swung herself over the side and began to dig around underneath. She was sort of surprised by the amount of crap she found under there, for a couch that got moved so much: the battery, a leftover tentacle, a chunk of some sort of food that smelled suspiciously like pizza, and one more thing that caught her ever-changing interest the most.
It was sleek and small, dark grey, with only three buttons on it, only one of which labeled. The first button, bright red, at the top was the biggest, and naturally, the first one that Amy pushed. She sat in silence on the edge of the cushion, straining her ears for any kind of sound...
But there was nothing.
On to button number two! This one was red as well but slightly smaller than the first. Still, it fit easily under Amy's thumb as she pressed it. Again, she waited, but again, nothing turned on, nothing exploded, nothing started singing and dancing like she'd hoped.
With an irritated grunt, she tossed the remote away without pressing the last, which had OFF printed clearly underneath it.
********
Goose Maverick had decided to join the fight. It wasn't really for any good reason, he pondered, but really, just because he felt obligated to. Obligated to his fellow GAR Street bar men, obligated to those who'd stood by his side as much as he had theirs. He expected that some of them would be hurt. Some of them might have even been killed, or some might've even ran away.
What he hadn't been expecting, however, was the quick pain that shot through his head.
It felt brain splitting. Groaning and swaying dangerously, he began to reach out for something to hold on to, completely sure he would fall, but to his own surprise, his body jerked and straightened on its own. What - ?
That was when Goose realized he had no control over his body.
His eyes darted from person to person around him, and his hand clenched tight around the gun that'd been practically glued to his palm for the past four hours. Goose knew what was coming even before his arm raised the loaded weapon.
As if echoing the gunshots, several cries of agony cut through the already tense air.
********
Emiri heard the yelling from far away, even over the other crashes and cries of the battlefield. Disturbed that she could even pick out some of whose voices they were, she changed paths in a split second, veering off to the left. By the time she'd arrived at the half fallen group, six men were down and all of the others were backing up, according to Kamina's demand. The man himself was struggling to fend off Goose, the last person Emiri had expected, and all of his...
Tentacles.
“What the hell are you?!” she cried without bothering to conceal the disgusted and grossed-out tone. Three tentacles were brandishing swords clumsily and a forth was holding a gun – probably empty, if the number of shots she'd heard was correct. Her moment of hesitation over, she jumped into the fight, knocking a tentacle out of its path to Kamina's side. “You're bleeding pretty bad. Get yourself out of here, and take those idiots with you,” she hissed, not taking her eyes off of her target. To the blue-haired man, who looked incredibly shocked that someone would even try to take over for him and his manliness, let alone a woman.
“No way! A man never gives up; he goes on strong in his fighting spirit-”
“Oh just shut up and go! It’s not giving up, you’re no good to us dead!” she interrupted his speech. If she hadn't, it probably would've gone on for the next hour.
Kamina looked around. She was right – enough men were injured already to the point where their effectiveness as a group could be hurt. He picked himself up, adjusting his cracked sunglasses. “Fine, but...Emiri, remember this,” He lifted his arm toward the sky with dramatic flair. “BELIEVE IN ME WHO BELIEVES IN YOU. PIERCE THE HEAVENS WITH YOUR SWO – crap!” A tentacle shot out towards his ankle, apparently mirroring Emiri's thoughts. A second glance and Kamina was gone. Emiri didn't bother watching him go.
“I used to think you were cool,” pouted Emiri as she countered Goose’s attack, slicing the gun in two. Goose's mouth flailed for a second, as if it were confused in exactly what it wanted to say. Finally:
“I feel the need…”
Emiri paused for just half a second before she decided that she didn't wanna know. “Have you been a spy all along? Were you always working for Ozzal?” she pressed, trying to gain information as she danced around lunging appendages.
“…THE NEED FOR SPEED!” Goose finished with a throat-tearing cry and suddenly shot forward, one of his swords skimming her cheek.
Emiri was unnerved by it – she'd seen scarier things in her own mirror. “What are you trying to accomplish here?!”
“Just wanna serve my country, be the best pilot in the Navy, sir,” replied her opponent, voice returning to its emotionless tone.
Emiri wasn’t used to fighting someone so calm, and if anything was going to freak her out, this would be it. Sure, sometimes people kept their cool against her, but they were never this apathetic, and most of the time, it was just a front. It was scary how much he had her on edge; he was getting in more hits, covering her arms in small cuts as she was forced to work defense against him. To actually work. In a fight. She shuddered.
When she went to jump out of the way again, her back met a thick tree trunk with a sickening thud.
“Standby, Viper's coming down.” All four tentacles came together in a clear last attempt to smash her brains all over the bark. She knew a moment's hesitation from her would be all he needed, but his vacant face, so bland and indifferent, seemed to be mocking and laughing at her and –
Just be careful…I don’t want you getting hurt. Come back, okay?
Emiri smiled.
She ducked to the right, the whiskey finally kicking in with full force. She moved faster and smoother, and when she swung her blade, she sliced off one of the multiple extremities.
“Sorry Maverick, there’s someone I have to get back to.
Goose's voice was still blank, but his face showed surprise.
“When I fly, I'll have you know that my crew and my plane come first.”
She faked a left jump and then swung towards the right – she'd aimed for another tentacle, but her sword connected with his stomach. Blood sprayed onto the hem of her dress and boots, and for a moment, his helpless expression made her feel apologetic in return.“I’m sorry Goose,” she murmured, watching him fall, “I wish it didn’t have to end this way.”
The man coughed and spluttered, blood seeping out the corners of his mouth. “He’s dead. You gotta let him go,” he murmured, regret creeping into his voice as she kneeled by his side. Not even a minute later, Goose Maverick went still
********
While some battles were going good for the Syndicate, others were not. The mixed results showed all over the battlefield, and the war seemed to be pretty even.
Cid and Proof had probably had the least amount of training. Between whining about how training was haaarrrrd, and running off on their own rather than sticking around to learn, they hardly knew anything about the Knightmare they were in other than it was blue, it moved, and when you pressed things, it did stuff.
“Hey Ciddy, what do these buttons do?” Proof asked, pointing to a multicolored panel of what seemed to be hundreds of small buttons.
“Ummmm,” Cid hummed, tapping her chin. She appeared to be deep in thought, but the only response she could come up with was, “I dunno. Press ‘em!”
Both of them began hitting every button in their reach. A number of things happened: the transmitters and lights went on and off, the Knightmare lurched forward then daintily glided back, and a large beam shot out from the right shoulder of their frame, colliding with a nearby enemy tank and exploding into hellfire and debris.
“COOL!” They both shouted, exhilarated, and continued to press buttons, successfully detonating two more tanks and a tree.
********
Tres was mowing down opponents at an alarming speed. Unaffected by the carnage around him, he strode forward towards a group of soldiers, making quick work of anyone foolish enough to try a surprise attack from behind. He had no knowledge of the psychotic man with the tattooed hands in the unit until one of his would-be victims suddenly exploded with a scream. The others reacted with looks of horror as the said man grabbed another of them, creating a flash of light and hurling him at Tres. “Grab him and hold on!” the bomber cackled. The man exploded like his comrade, taking Tres’ left arm with him.
“Hello, my name is Kimbley. And I’ll be killing you today,” the man said with a smile, reaching out for another soldier. They all panicked and quickly away, several of them slamming right into Tres' chest. They were dispatched without a single word.
Kimbley whistled, obviously impressed. “Wow. You're colder than I am, you know that?”
Tres said nothing.
“Alright then...I guess it's just you and me.”
********
Kirara was glad that greatly increased speed and strength were two of her new vampire abilities. In a matter of seconds, she grabbed a fleeing enemy soldier, broke his neck, and drank her fill. New record, she thought playfully, licking her fingers. She’d been worried about being unable to control her bloodlust, but luckily that hadn’t become a real problem yet. After months of only livestock and animals, the taste of the real human stuff at last was wonderful. She knew in the back of her mind there would be problems down the road; human blood was just so much better than animal that she was unsure she’d even be able to stomach the old stuff afterwards – it was like a vegetarian trying meat for the first time and then going back to their dead leaves with salad dressing. It wasn’t as if they were just going to keep a corral of prisoners on hand for her either. That was just cruel, and she'd admit it. Right then however, the future was far from her mind. Catch and kill, catch and kill. Those were her only thoughts.
********
Angel was glad she wasn’t conscious then. As she'd been told later, she'd gotten shot right above her hip, and Roy and Havoc had been the ones to carry her back in. That wasn't the bad part, she could deal with a bullet in her. It wasn't the worst thing that'd ever happened. No, the bad part was that Matrix was the only one not attending to an injured person, and Roy was determined not to let him touch her.
“I told you already. I don’t want you operating on her. She wouldn't want it either,” Roy snarled.
Matrix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. But everyone else has their hands full, I’m the only one available,” he replied.
Roy glared at him. “We’ll wait.”
“There’s no time!” Matrix snapped. He felt like pulling out his own hair. There was just no dealing with the stubborn man standing between him and his ex-fiancée. “Look, I know you don’t like me and you’re protective of her and that’s just great, that's fine and dandy and sunshine and flowers, actually, but the longer we stand here and bicker, the less chance she has of walking away from this.”
Havoc stepped in, clearly irritated with the both of them. “We have to get back out there. They need you.”
Roy took a moment to weigh his options. He could leave her, go out to the battlefield, and trust her in the hands of Matrix. But what if he decided to take revenge on her? What if something went wrong, and he wasn't there?
On the other hand, he could stay here, and leave his troops like fish out of water in the middle of the battle. He could already imagine the casualties just from them being gone for fifteen minutes. The right decision was clear in his mind, but it was still with reluctance that he made the choice.
“If she dies, you’re going with her,” he threatened before stepping out in a huff. Havoc followed, making eye contact with Matrix to assure him that his colonel's words were true.
“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Roy asked his subordinate as they headed back towards the battle. While he tried to be confident, his worry still showed tremendously.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Havoc said as soothingly as he could.
Roy smiled as he pulled his gloves out of his pocket and slipped them back on. “You’re right,” he chuckled, “Riza’s strong, she’ll pull through.”
Havoc stopped, unsure of what he'd just heard.
“What’d you say?”
“I said that you’re right, Angel will make it.” Roy had stopped as well, looking incredibly confused.
“No, you said Riza’s strong.”
“Did I? I must be tired.” He tried to laugh it off, but he knew Havoc knew him better.
“Colonel, Riza’s gone,” Havoc said gently.
Roy looked away. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
Havoc shook his head and put his hands up, as if to say, 'Don't blame me.'
“I miss Hawkeye too, she was a great person. But Angel isn’t her replacement. You can’t make her into Riza.”
Roy punched him in the face and left him sitting there, holding his bleeding nose and shouting.
********
“I’m going out there,” Kaia said resolutely.
“Don’t, we need you in here,” Kira called through a mouthful of gauze.
She shook her head, just as determined as before. “Not really. All my patients have stabilized, you guys can handle it on your own. Besides, how many people do you think are out there that can’t make it in here for help? I have to go out there.”
She ignored the resentful glare the blonde man shot after her and flew from the tent, running as fast as she could with a first aid kit and a small dagger in hand.
Kaia’d only been outside for a few minutes when she came across a severely injured man. It took all of her effort to turn him over, but she knew who it was before she even saw his face – the orange hair said it all. After calling his name a couple times, trying to get him to regain consciousness, she knelt down to heal him, losing focus on the carnage around her. She was suddenly snapped out of her task by the feel of a gun to her head.
“Stop right there, girl. You’re coming with me,” the man behind her said. From his voice alone, he sounded to be far older than she, and was probably strong, but Kaia refused to let herself turn around and confirm her fears. Determined, she gave no answer and returned to healing Cougar. “Are you deaf, woman? I told you to stop!” She heard the click of the gun against her skull.
This is it. I should've stayed. But I'm ready, she thought, because there would be no other way for me to run from him.
“Too bad, we could have used you. Stupid bi – Who the hell - ”
Only after the sound of something large cutting through the air, and loud howl of pain did Kaia allow herself to even glance over her shoulder.
Her offender fell over, a large gash seeping only too much blood across his chest. “John!” she exclaimed. Sadar sheathed his sword, but he didn't offer her comfort. His face was hard and stern.
“Finish with Cougar then get back to the infirmary,” he told her with the tone of a concerned parent. “You can’t fight and heal at the same time. It’s too dangerous for you to be out here.”
Kaia bit her lip harshly. What had she expected, a warm hello, a hug and a kiss, a pat on the head and a “Good job! You nearly got yourself killed!”? She ducked her head down and went back to work on her impromptu patient, but didn't lose sight of her savior as well. Sadar stayed close and kept an eye on her while she healed Cougar.
It wasn't long before Cougar began to stir. He hadn't been seriously injured to begin with, but he still winced a bit as he sat up just a bit too quickly.
“How long have I been out?” he grunted, rubbing the back of his head.
“That’s not important,” Sadar cut in before Kaia could say anything. She understood that no, Sadar wasn't happy with her at that moment, but he didn't have to treat her like an innocent little girl either. “Can you escort Kaia back for me?” the priest continued. He reached his hand down to help him stand up.
For the rest of her life, Kaia would never forget that moment.
None of them had realized the man who’d threatened her was still alive. He'd just been laying there, quiet and still. It was too late by the time he'd blown his cover – Kaia had watched in slow motion as the man lifted his upper body up, let out all of his remaining life in one low, guttural cry, and fired one last shot before he finally fell over for the last time. For a moment, the shortest moment in history or future, Kaia thought that he'd missed whatever he'd been aiming for...Until the lightest gasp broke through the silence. Time seemed to stop as her friend, the man she cared for – hell, even in those moments, loved him with all of her heart – trembled and fell to the ground, blood pouring profusely from the middle of his chest. Cougar shouted his name, but Kaia remained frozen, watching Sadar bleed away the last moments of his life. His dying gaze met hers, and while she didn't notice it then, she swore that he gave her a weak smile.
The kind that said that everything would be fine, but never really meant it.
By the time he hit the ground he was already gone, his eyes wide and empty. It took another agonizingly long moment for her world to come back to full speed and the realization hit her like a truck. Her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground next to him.
“John? Sadar? P-please say something,” she whimpered helplessly. “Come on, talk to me. You – you have to get up. It’s not safe here, remember? John? JOHN!” She bent over him, tears pouring down her cheeks, and tried to heal him with all of the power she could muster.
Nothing. As skilled as she was, she couldn’t bring back the dead.
“Kaia,” Cougar said as lightly as he could, given the situation, “you have to get up. They need you back at the infirmary. There’s nothing you can do for him now.” He touched her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, but Kaia pushed him away with new-found strength.
“NO!” she screamed. “I have to stay with him! I can heal him, I know it! I – I – oh god, why?” Her words dissolved into unintelligible cries as she wept over Sadar’s immobile body. Her entire body rattled like a leaf, and her eyes were wild with grief. Her hands clawed at his chest now, as if her raw need and want could bring breath back into his lungs. Cougar knew she needed this – needed to grieve and cry and mourn in her own way, and he was even torn up about it too – but the battlefield was no place for it. With all of the power he could manage, he grabbed her flailing arms and pulled her up. Naturally, she resisted, pulling herself towards the body, but Cougar wasn't wild with mourning – he was stronger. He kept her standing, and made her look at him, face to face, with little effort.
“He wanted you around to help people,” Cougar grunted, still struggling to hold her, “You can’t do that if you stay with him and get attacked. That's what he died protecting you from!”
She stopped writhing in his hold. Her eyes dropped to the ground, to the body, then back at Cougar, searching for some kind of way to show that he was wrong.
“Are you okay to walk?” Cougar finally said after letting her cry for a bit longer.
She nodded silently, tears streaming down her face. “It’s okay. I’ll come back for him once I get you back.”
“No. I'll come back for him once I get you back,” Cougar corrected with a small, lopsided grin. “After all, I'm much faster.”
********
“MY KNIGHTMARE!” Lloyd screeched. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT!?”
Hikki and Clarice were sitting in the lab as Lloyd inspected their machines, both feeling horrible. Samson had been rushed to the infirmary and was in critical condition. Bismarck's final blow against their Knightmare had crushed their cockpit, pinning Samson under one of the control panels and nearly crushing his chest. It was a wonder Hikki had managed to get him out at all. The Frenchman himself had been lucky to escape with a broken arm and a few minor scrapes. Clarice had found them severely beaten and bruised, and had helped to get Samson loaded into her own Knightmare. They'd hitched up the duel-controlled joint Knightmare and dragged it along behind Clarice's, and were now facing the wrath of Lloyd.
“How could you let it get this mangled?” he asked the Frenchman, not a drop of concern for Hikki's well being. “Not to mention - “ he turned on his heel towards Clarice - “All of the damage it took when you dragged it back here. What did you think it was, a sack of potatoes?” he scolded her with a glare as sharp as a knife.
“We were more worried about Samson. He could have died,” snapped Clarice. No matter how bad she felt about the damaged Knightmare, her friend – fiancé – would always come first.
“Who cares about him? Pilots can easily be replaced! Do you know how much work it’ll take to fix this?” Lloyd snapped at her, just as fiercely.
Hikki was close to tears. Rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, he replied for Clarice, “But Lloyd, he’s our friend. He had to be our first priority.”
The tense mood in the room was broken by the tell-tale static crackle of a radio transmission. “Heeeyyyy~,” Cid's voice echoed through the air, “There’s an annoying guy in a big mecha yelling at us.”
“He said his name was Biscuit,” Proof continued.
“PSH it wasn't Biscuit! It was...Bis-something...
“Bismarck?” Clarice couldn't hide the worry in her voice.
Hikki grabbed the communicator from her. “Get out of zere! Stay away from heem, whatever you do!” he told them. “Lloyd, how long weel eet take to feex my machine? I have to get back out zere.”
“Oh no. You’re not taking it out again after how badly you wrecked it last time,” he scoffed as his fingertips ghosted over a shredded leg.
“Larry, get me a six pack of pudding and - “
His order was cut short as Larry hit him in the head with a wrench, knocking him unconscious.
“NO!” He shouted, surprising everyone. “I’M SICK AND TIRED OF BEING EVERYBODY’S ERRAND BOY IN THE LAB! ‘LARRY, GET ME SOME PUDDING’, ‘LARRY, WHERE’S THAT DATA I WANTED?’, ‘LARRY, DO WE HAVE ANYTHING I CAN USE TO MAKE TENTACLES?’ I DEMAND TO BE TREATED LIKE A REAL MAN!” The room was dead silent as he took a deep breath and regained his composure. “S...Sorry. About that. I’ll fix your Knightmare, but it’ll take hours,” he said a little sheepishly.
Clarice stood, pressing her frame's key into the palm of her friend. “Here, take mine. It’s in better condition,” she offered with a small smile.
Hikki returned it.“Thank you,” he said, climbing into the machine. “Oh, Lloyd,” he addressed the unconscious man, “I’m sorry, but eet’s over between us.”
********
Cranking the controls up to full speed, he zoomed past the rest of the fight; his only goal was revenge on Bismark. He hoped at the very least that Proof and Cid had managed to escape and that their radio gear was just damaged, as they weren’t answering his calls. He moved along smoothly until he was literally rammed out of his thoughts by an ugly, red and orange Knightmare.
“What ze - “
“You can’t escape! My Guren will crush you!” an annoying female voice blasted over the transmitter. If Hikki had been able to see into his opponent’s cockpit, he would have been disgusted by the fact that it seemed designed for fanservice of the pilot. “I won’t let you get away!” Kallen Kozuki screeched at him.
“Oh for ze love of god, I don’t have time for zees.”
He angled the arm of his machine back and through it forward, punching her so hard the hand went through the glass of the cockpit and was embedded inside. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake it off – the girl he had just crushed inside was the least of his concerns. He raced on, dragging the broken Guren along with him.
It wasn't long before he came upon Proof and Cid, their Knightmare legless but the two of them unhurt and cheering for their rescuer. Bismarck hadn't gone far.
“Oh, another challenger?” the knight jeered.
“Shut up,” Hikki said. The sight of him filled his entire body with rage.
“Fine then,” Bismark said smugly, “We’ll end this quickly.”
“My pleasure,” Hikki agreed.
Bismark struck first, moving swiftly and severing the arm holding Kallen’s unmoving Guren. Hikki smirked wickedly; the knight had played right into his hands. Moving as fast as the bulky Knightmare would allow, he picked Kallen’s machine up with his good hand and hurled it at Bismark, knocking him down. “Good bye, you horreeble, horreeble person,” he said, pressing the button to activate the explosives in the severed fist.
“I blame you for this, Kallen,” were Bismarck's last words at the bombs went off, one by one.
********
“Zeus, let’s just go,” Kay El pleaded as he followed his partner through the castle. God knew why they were back here, other than Zeus's stubbornness, but Kay El wanted to leave, right then, not a moment later.
“No. I already told you. I want revenge against that bitch before I leave this place for good,” Zeus growled, picking up speed and staying in front of his colleague.
“Why? We could just leave now. We’d never have to think about her again,” Kay El countered, hoping that sense would work – but knowing it wouldn't.
“Maybe you’d be able to, but I can’t do that,” Zeus told him.
“Okay, but why now, with all the drama going on and everything?” Kay El questioned as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.
“Because,” Zeus grinned evilly, “She’s distracted right now. Old hag’ll never see it coming.”
And Kay El just couldn't argue with that logic.
Zeus kicked open the door of Ozzal’s office, surprising the woman inside for only seconds. Then she just looked angry. Kay El reluctantly followed him into the room, shutting the door behind them.
“What are you two doing in here? Get out, I’m busy!” Ozzal demanded. Zeus didn't say a word and didn't let himself stop until he reached the desk, knowing that if he paused for even a split second he wouldn't be able to carry it out. He pointed his sword towards his old employer.
“What are…wait, stop! No, get out!”
There was a loud scream from inside the office, then silence.
********
“Welcome back,” Tres greeted Hikki upon his return with his usual monotone charm.
“Uhm, Tres? Are you alright?” Hikki asked, exiting Clarice’s Knightmare, careful to mind his arm.
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” the android inquired.
“Well, you're covered in blood and 'alf of your torso eez gone,” Hikki pointed out, not hiding his half-smile of amusement.
“I was involved in an incident,” Tres stated matter-of-factly.
“Ah. 'ow’s Samson?” The smile was gone - he was more than slightly afraid of the answer.
“Still critical,” Tres said simply. Hikki waved his thanks, then rushed to the infirmary to join Clarice at Samson's side. To no one's surprise, she was crying, and Hikki suspected he would be too. “He’ll pull through, won’t he?” was the first thing she said as soon as she laid eyes on him.
Hikki’s eyes settled on Samson’s heart monitor. It beeped weakly but steadily, a monotonous pattern of beep – beep – beep. “Yes, I’m sure he weel. He’s strong, you know zat.”
Clarice nodded solemnly. “I knew there was a chance one of us wouldn’t come back, but I never wanted to think about it. It’s just…I don’t know what I’d do without him…”
“What deed ze medics say?” Hikki asked her, deciding to ignore the need in her eyes. He couldn't handle thinking about the proposal right now – it would just make everything that much worse.
“They did everything they could. They said it’s up to him now,” she said, wiping her face of tears.
“Well zen, he’ll defeeneetely get better. He’s got too much going for heem not to,” Hikki comforted her, but the words were mostly for himself.
Clarice looked up at him, her eyes full of gratitude. “Thanks, Hikki. I know we’ve never really gotten along with each other, but it means a lot that you’re here now with me now.” She leaned forward to give him a hug. Hikki awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, feeling silly.
“Zere, zere now. Eet’ll be okay,” he said, trying to come up with anything to tell her. He patted her back with assurance he didn't even have for himself.
The two of them sat there in silence, taking comfort merely in each other’s presence. The only sound was the heart monitor as it recorded Samson’s life:
Beep – beep – beep – beep – beep – beeeeeeeeeep...
********
CAST LIST:
Board Members:
Hikki Follett - Kohikki
Samson Monroe - MasterSamson
Father John Sadar - FurionTassadar
Clarice Rowe - QueenoftheDorks
Larry Zorin - LAZY17
Professor M Matrix - matrixman124
Amy - Amalgam
Jude Hill (OMG, HE HAS A NAME!) - fool_on_the_hill
Chief Q Holmes - Q_chan
Keith Douglas - k_dawg_3484
Allen Black - AlastourBlaque
Angel Sarcasta - mgangel1124
Lucille “Cille” Compton - Cille
Eric Ominae - OMNI-Enforcer
Emiri - _Boxers_
Goose Maverick - Top_Gun
Proof - NoProof
Cid - cidthekittyisfun
Kirara Amour - kiraralove
Kaia Namek - namek_kaia
“Angry God” Zeus - zeustheangrygod
Kay El - Kagomes_Luver2789
Anime Characters:
Isshin Kurosaki (Radio Announcer) - Bleach
Straight Cougar - s-CRY-ed
Roy Mustang - Fullmetal Alchemist
Jean Havoc - Fullmetal Alchemist
Lloyd Asplund - Code Geass
Rakshata Chawla - Code Geass
Riza Hawkeye Yuy (Only mentioned) - Fullmetal Alchemist
Bismark Waldstein - Code Geass
Anya Alstreim - Code Geass
Izuru Kira - Bleach
Kamina - Gurren Lagann
Tres - Trinity Blood
Zolf J. Kimbley - Fullmetal Alchemist
Kallen Kozuki - Code Geass
Others:
Michelle Ozzal - Mike Lazzo
Anne Monroe - Original
“GOOOOOOOOD MOOOORNING, ORLY!” The radio announcer hollered with his usual cheer. “First, let’s kick things off with some news headlines. The mysterious cult known as Geass has continued its hold in the west, but we’ll have more on that later. Also in that area, doctors are perplexed by a strange outbreak of pinkeye that seems to last for only seconds or minutes. Meanwhile in the Land of the Red Dot, ongoing droughts have led to reports of a water demon taking residence in a young boy’s stomach. It’s about eleven A.M, a sunny 72 degrees, and trapar waves are low. Oh, and by the way, THERE’S A WAR GOING ON OUTSIDE! We’ll be right back with more news and some music after a word from our sponsors!”
“Are you tired? Under the weather? Spirit feeling run down? Then come on over to Urahara’s Shop! We’ve got just what you need to get your power back up to full strength! Our new soul candy will have you feeling like-”
“HURRY, SOMEONE FIND SPACE EEN ZE EENFEERMARY! ZERE’S TOO MUCH BLOOD!” Hikki screamed as he dragged an unconscious Samson into the building. How could it have gone this wrong? There were plans. There were strategies, provisions, rations, a thousand great minds put together just for this. They’d had weapons ready. They’d trained for hours on end. They’d gathered information about Ozzal and her forces. With all that going for them, everything they had or could possibly have, why weren’t they winning...?
********
“So what are we dealing with?” Cougar asked. In typical fashion, he tapped a pencil quickly against the table top, beating out an unreadable pattern that implied that the whole meeting wasn't going fast enough. A small group of the Syndicate was sitting around the table listening to Sadar’s report, all anxious to hear the news.
“The military is preparing to attack. I’d give it two months at most,” Sadar announced grimly. “It’s as if they’re preparing for a full-scale war. Mustang, how is training coming along?”
“Not well. At the rate they’re working, they’ll be destroyed,” Roy answered. “If we kick up the training to eight or ten hours a day, maybe they’ll stand a chance. Maybe. Still, we’ll need a better cache of weapons as well. As for where we’re supposed to get those-”
“Hey, whatever happened to those big caravans full of supplies we took over awhile ago?” Clarice interrupted.
Roy stopped and looked around the room at the others, his face blank except for the tugging corner of his mouth that showed annoyance. “You mean, we had a stash of weapons this entire time, and no one bothered to tell me?” He facepalmed with a dramatic sigh. “That’s just…wonderful. I’ll have Havoc take stock of it all and outfit the troops.”
“Alright. Lloyd, how are you doing on the Knightmares?”
“We have one ready, but I’m afraid we won’t have time to finish them all before the fight starts. Larry is skilled, but the two of us aren’t enough. It’d be great if we could get another scientist on board…”
********
Matrix was angry – very, very angry. He walked into the lab to see several of HIS assistants hauling HIS experiments out of the room. “W-what the hell are you doing? Who told you to do that?!”
“Sorry, sir,” one assistant said sheepishly, carrying out a large, complicated-looking machine with tentacles. “Ms. Chawla needs more room for her Knightmares. She said she ran it by Ozzal and got permission.”
“Why wasn’t I told?!”
The assistant shrugged. “Dunno. You’d have to ask her.” He shifted the machine in his arms and walked out.
Matrix looked around and found his antagonist lying on her couch, as usual. He strode over, nearly tripping on an assistant trying to dismantle a menacing piece of work, and glared at her. “Rakshata, is there something you’d like to tell me?”
The woman blew out smoke from her pipe. At first, it didn't even seem like she'd acknowledge him, but finally she replied, “Oh yes. Your toys were taking up too much room, so Ozzal said I could throw them away.”
“And you didn’t feel the need to ask me first?! Damn it, Rakshata, what is your problem?!”
She looked at him with boredom. “You’re in my way,” she said as though it were the easiest, most recognizable answer in the world, before picking up a clipboard and reading over the Knightmare’s information. At that point, Matrix knew many things for good. He knew their conversation was done, and Rakshata had her way – for now. He knew he had to go to Ozzal and get things straightened out if he wanted things to change. He’d been working for her longer, surely he was the favorite and she’d side with him, right?
It took Matrix four minutes and thirty-four seconds to get to the large, mahogany doors that signified his employer's office. “Um, Governor Ozzal? Can I have a word with you?” Matrix stepped into her lair without knocking, knowing that she'd just send him away if he had. “It’s Rakshata, she’s taken over my lab. Could you talk to her and set her straight?”
“Yeah, no. She’s in charge. Now bring me some more Hot Pockets,” Ozzal said without looking up and immediately waved her hand for him to leave.
For a minute or two, he merely stood there and felt helpless. So that was it. The end. Fin. Ozzal didn’t want him, Rakshata didn’t need him, and God only knew what Amy was up to. He wasn’t appreciated there, and he’d been unhappy at his job for a long time now. Well, fine then – if he wasn't wanted, wasn't needed, it was time to make a change of employment. Go somewhere where what he knew of Ozzal, what he knew of what he was leaving behind, would be an advantage to him...
********
On their side of town, Hill, Q, and the others were going over what they knew of the Syndicate for what felt like – and probably was – the millionth time.
“Okay, so this Hikki Follett person is their leader, and we’re supposed to arrest him on sight...but it just doesn’t feel right,” Q said as she rubbed her temples.
“I know what you mean,” Al agreed. “He’s supposed to be this ‘Anti-Citizen One’, but really, what’s he done that was so bad?”
“Well, there was that building that exploded when they were involved in that scuffle, but other than that, nothing really,” Keith conceded.
Q groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “What do you think, Jude?”
Hill looked up wearily. “I think there’s no reason to arrest an innocent man.”
It didn’t take more talking for the four of them to come to an agreement not to pursue the leader of the Syndicate. There was no sense to it, especially when so many other things were happening in the world.
An hour or two later, Q and Hill were on their way to have a quick lunch when she suddenly slammed on the car’s brakes. Hill was flung forward, banging his head on the window. “What the hell, woman? You’re going to kill me one day,” he snapped reproachfully as he rubbed his forehead.
“Over there,” she said, already getting out of the car. Hill followed her gaze in time to notice the dark-haired young girl with the grocery bag walk down an alley, and the menacing-looking man following her. Hill stumbled to catch up with her quick steps, but by the time they’d managed across the street, slowed down by Hill's not-fully-healed injuries, the man was already in the alley with her. A shrill screech echoed through the air as Q came to a skidding halt at the mouth of the alley – the man was threatening the child with a knife, brandishing it wildly and demanding money. Later on, Q would stop to think about how desperate he really looked, and she would've thought more on the subject, but at that point, Hill was in front of her like a shield, keeping her close to him.
“I think you should leave her alone,” Hill called out in the most confident tone he could bring together. The thug turned around and eyed him for a moment – only a moment's hesitation – and immediately lunged at him, blade at the ready. Hill simply sidestepped, dodging the attack, then landed a sickening blow to the side of his slow head. The grimy man swayed dangerously in all directions before falling, making one last grasp at the British man's coat before falling unconscious. Disdainfully, Hill shook off the large palm. “Call for back-up,” he murmured into Q's ear, “I'll handle the child.” In response to Q's confused look (“Shouldn't I be the one taking care of the girl?” she thought), he replied with a laugh, “I don't think I can make it back to the car in one piece.”
By the time Q got back to the scene of the crime, the little girl was explaining what all had happened in slow, precise words. All of her groceries had been put back from whence they came. Hill was waving his hand about in response, probably assuring her of something, but she was shaking her head.
“No, that’s alright. I should be fine getting back on my own,” she said. Her eyes darted nervously to Q as she approached, to Hill, to the ground, and then all around again.
Q put her hand on her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, you look pretty shaken up. What’s your name?”
“A-Anne Monroe,” she said quietly, almost a whisper. “But really, I can walk home, it’s no problem. It's not far.”
“It doesn’t feel right just leaving you alone after that. You can use my phone to call someone to come get you,” Q said with a smile. Anne was a strong little girl, no doubt, but she looked a bit shaken up, and really, Q couldn't blame her.
“Well, I have an older brother…” she said as Q offered her a cell phone. She took it, avoiding the woman's fingers, quickly dialed and spoke with someone in a hushed voice, then hung up. As if the phone was poisonous or incredibly hot, she quickly pressed it back into Q's palm.
“Do you want us to stay with you while you wait?” Hill said in his confident voice. Anne jumped a bit, as if she had forgotten he was there, but her reply was just as confident – if not more.
“No, you two go on. I can wait for him in that café over there,” Anne pointed to a small restaurant a few shops down.
“Alright, if you’re sure –“ Q began, but the girl was already taking off down the alleyway, her groceries clutched tightly to her chest.
“Thank you!” Anne called behind her as she ducked into the doorway.
“…Well, that was interesting,” Hill commented after a few moments of odd silence. “Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Q replied. A clock chimed somewhere in the distance, maybe even on the far side of town. “Oh, it’s getting late,” she thought aloud, “We better get back.” She took hold of his sleeve and began to head towards the car, but she didn’t stop him when she felt him free his arm and close his fingers around her own.
********
He was lost. He didn’t even know how to contact anyone from the Syndicate, let alone find their headquarters. Part of him regretted not putting a tracking device in Angel during their last altercation; at least finding her would have been a step in the right direction. And it would've opened all sorts of windows for revenge that, backtracking on those thoughts, was better meant for someone else. He’d read all the files on the Syndicate and its known members that he could get his hands on (which had been easier than he thought), but just names and incredibly vague information gave him nothing. It had been hours and he was still no closer to meeting them. Sitting in a café with a coffee, he saw a police car drive by and wondered when Ozzal would realize he’d left. Would she even try to get him back? No, probably not, he thought to himself, there's Rakshata now.
“Perfect Rakshata. Goddammit,” Matrix hissed, pushing the black coffee away.
He was about to leave when he saw a young man with black hair enter. The man – hardly even a man, maybe in his early twenties – looked around as if in a daze. Finally, he became aware and spotted his target, taking quick steps over to a young girl with a grocery bag. The family resemblance was obvious, as both of them had almost identical features, black hair and soft eyes. There was something about him that seemed familiar, Matrix pondered, but for the moment, he chalked it up to the average every-man look.
“Hi Sammy,” the girl chirped as she stood up enthusiastically.
“Anne, what’s going on? What’s with the weird number you called me on…”
Matrix had stopped listening, wracking his brain to figure out how he knew the man. No, it couldn't be that every-man look, because not every man looked that painfully familiar. They were leaving, the man grabbing the bag for his little sister, but Matrix paid no attention as he stared continually into space. His eyes widened when it all clicked. That was one of the people he'd read about earlier that day, Samson Monroe, age 21. Orphaned with one younger sister, Anne, that little girl, yes! Of course! A member of the Syndicate!
Matrix quickly stood up and hurried to catch up to them, tripping over his own feet and crashing headfirst into the door as it closed. “YOU! WAIT, I MEAN IT, WAIT THERE!” he cried spectacularly as he ran to the sibling pair, who hadn't made it far from the entrance of the café. Once there, he doubled over and clutched his knees, panting too hard to talk. More than once he signaled them with a one-moment-please finger, but by the time he managed to work himself back to standing, they were staring oddly and shifting away from him anyway. “Um, hello there,” he began nervously, “Hi. This is gonna sound weird, but I’ve been looking for you all day. Well, not you exactly, I’ve been looking for the Syndicate. Anyone from the Syndicate. You see, I wanted to join. So, do you need anything? Any help? I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to science. Actually, I - ”
The man, Samson, perked up. “Wait, you’re a scientist? That’s great! We could really use more people that know their way around a mecha. Do you know - ”
“Mecha? Like Knightmares? I was just working on those at my last job,” Matrix rushed through the sentence at high speed and smiled. Things were going better than he’d hoped. Samson grinned back, then murmured for him to wait just a sec. He took out his phone and dialed a number at a lightning pace.
“Hikki, is Lloyd there? No, I need to talk to him, not you. Wh – No, that doesn't mean I don't like you! Just put Lloyd on! Jeez...Thank you...Lloyd? Great news, I found us someone to help him in the lab…Yeah, he said he has some experience with them…Oh, I didn’t ask yet,” Samson covered the bottom of the phone faced him. “What’s your name? They’re asking for it.”
“Oh,” Matrix’s smile faltered. He hoped their need for scientists was greater than the desire to murder him that he just knew lurked in the halls of their establishment or...whatever they had. “It’s Matrix.”
Samson’s face went blank. “…Hikki? I’ve gotta call you back. Something just came up.”
********
“Angel is going to kill us when she finds out,” Clarice stated with a quick glasses push-up.
Samson shrugged, but he didn't look as nonchalant as he had wanted to seem. “What else can we do? He knows how to build Knightmares, plus he’s got all that intel about the ones Ozzal’s making. And he said he’s even got medical skills. You know that’ll come in handy when the fight starts.”
“I know. I don’t envy the poor guy who gets to break the news to her though. He’ll be dead before he even sees the fight,” Clarice replied, completely serious.
They'd been walking to find Roy, to check up on his troops, but Samson stopped and lightly pulled on her sleeve. She paused as well, stopping to look over her shoulder at him. Her eyebrow quirked questioningly. “You know, we’re going up against the military on this. There’s a good chance a lot of people aren’t coming back from this,” he began.
She nodded and slowly replied, “Yeah...It’s depressing to think about, huh?”
“Well, I really hope neither of us end up being one of those people. You know, I’ve been thinking about after this is all over, what I want to do…” He was rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, the other still latched onto her forearm.
“Really?” Clarice looked at him, puzzled.
“Yeah. And I was thinking – that if we both make it out with our lives - “ he swallowed hard - “I’d like to spend mine with you. So...do you think you might want togetmarriedorsomethinglater?”
Clarice’s eyes bulged. “Samson, did you just propose to me?”
He laughed anxiously. “Yeah, I guess I did. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. That's fine. I rushed it. Just take some time and think it over, please, I - ”
He stopped talking when she reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’d love to,” she said, smiling.
They stood there for a long time, as if the world had paused just for this embrace. Neither of them saw Hikki walk out of a room down the hall with tears in his eyes. Without looking up, nor saying a word, he quickly took off in the other direction.
********
“…but at least they’ve got weapons that work now,” Roy said to Havoc as they walked leisurely down the hall. Training had been called early in order to get the new scientist settled in with the Syndicate's matters “It’s not much, but it’s…” he stopped talking when Angel passed them, nodding quickly but never once looking up.
“You need to talk to her,” Havoc said flatly. He didn't bother hiding his tone – he was sick of their back and forth anxiety. Roy opened his mouth to argue, but Havoc pushed on, determined to get it over with. “Look, I know something happened between them. I don’t know what and I don’t really care. But I’m sick of watching the two of you awkwardly skirt around each other. Whatever it was, Hawkeye wouldn’t want you acting like this. Now, go say something.” He shoved Mustang back a bit and walked on alone, lighting a cigarette as he went.
Roy didn't move immediately. Did he really want to know what had happened between Angel and his past love? Then again, did he really want to be separated from his last connection to Riza? Acting on impulse, he turned sharply on his heel and ran after the red-head.
“Err, Angel?” Roy said, catching up with her. She moved fast – already, she'd barreled through two hallways by the time he reached her.
“Hi,” she muttered, not meeting his eye.
He coughed into his fist awkwardly, then jammed a hand into his pants pocket. “Yeah…” he began slowly. After that, they fell into a drifting pace with each other, strange silence between them. “...Well…I’m sorry,” Roy continued, “This isn’t really a situation that I expected to find myself in, I don’t know how exactly I’m supposed to handle it.”
Angel smiled weakly. “I know what you mean. I really like you, but this does throw a pretty big wrench into things.”
The two of them stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. A couple times they just stared at each other until one looked away, but for the most part, they observed the walls over each other's shoulders. As if God had send a welcome distraction, a scream of terror sailed in from the direction of the lab. “That sounds like that Larry kid,” Roy thought aloud. Exchanging last glances, the pair took off at the same time.
********
“Y-Y-Y-YOU!?” Larry screeched, diving under the table to put distance between himself and his new offender. “WHY ARE YOU HERE? OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T TAKE ME BACK. NOT THE TENTACLES. NOT THE TENTACLES NOT THE-”
“Get a hold of yourself, man!” Lloyd snapped irritably. “You’re going to damage something important if you don’t calm down!”
Matrix was surprised, but the smile on his face merely showed amusement. “Larry? So this is where you went when you left! Heh, I guess we had the same idea.” He reached down to help Larry up, but the other man kicked his hand away, trying to shimmy out of sight.
“NO! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES!” he kept wailing. Lloyd rolled his eyes and plugged his ears before wandering away in the opposite direction.
“Hey Larry, are you okay in here?” Angel asked as she and Roy walked in, failing to notice Matrix at first.
“TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTACLES! TENTA-”
Angel was sorely tempted to follow Lloyd's actions, but instead, she reached down and quickly slapped him, effectively shutting him up.
“Is he okay?” Roy asked with a weirded-out look on his face.
“Is he done, more like. Traumatic flashback,” Lloyd answered from across the room. “He tends to do that if something strongly reminds him of his time working for Ozzal. Like if his old boss were to wander in and – oh look, there he is now.”
Confused, they turned around to see said boss – or at least, they would've, had Matrix not realized that Angel was there and decided to hide behind Larry. “Hey Larry, any room in Crazy Freakout Land for me?” Angel snarled, glaring at the nervous scientist.
“Angel? Who is this guy?” Roy was out of the loop and still confused.
“This would be Matrix, one of Ozzal’s top scientists and the man who killed my father,” she hissed, and stormed out of the room, but not before greeting her past friend with a lovely crude hand gesture.
The following two months were very awkward for them.
********
Cille gawked at the man in front of her in mute horror. Her gaze moved between the lifeless body on the ground to the gun in her shaking hand. She should have listened to Cougar. He’d told her not to go out, to just stay at headquarters and help however she could there. She had insisted that she’d learned enough about fighting to face Ozzal’s forces with the others. Many of her would-be opponents had ignored her, getting involved with other members of the Syndicate. That one man however had decided to challenge her. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself firing the gun at him almost as if it was a reflex, and he went down. His dull eyes stared unfocused in her direction.
She’d just killed someone for the first time in her life. There was now blood on her hands that she could never wash off. Had he had a family, a wife, children? Was there a little girl waiting somewhere for a father that would never come home? Unable to handle the events that just took place, her brain shut itself off. She sat there on the ground, staring at her victim, failing to realize her position left her in considerable danger. She was a sitting duck for the soldier that approached from behind. She snapped out of her trance, gasping when she heard the gunshot in her ear…
…And saw yet another enemy fall down dead in front of her, courtesy of the person still standing behind her.
“Get up, you have to get out of here. It’s too dangerous,” a familiar voice said.
She turned around quickly, recognizing her savior. It had been so long, but that voice still was fresh in her mind. “Eric!” she cried thankfully, surprised, as he helped her stand up. “When did you get back?”
“A few hours ago,” he said as he half-dragged her back towards the base. “Who let you out to fight? Cougar needs to do a better job keeping an eye on you.” She winced.
An explosion went off in the distance, sending a warm wind and ash to greet them. More went off in succession – Eric picked up the pace.
“But where have you been? You didn’t even say good bye,” she murmured, feeling weary and sick.
“It’s a long story and it involves that guy who sells those Sham-Wow things. I’ll tell you about it some other time,” he said curtly. “Can’t you move any faster? You’re going to get yourself killed out here.”
“I deserve it. I killed someone, Eric,” she said in a ghost of a whisper. She started to cry, and made no effort to hide it.
“Yeah, and then I killed someone else who would have done the same to you and felt a lot less guilty,” Eric snorted. “That’s the way war is, Cille. You can’t expect to win without getting your hands dirty. It’s a fact of life,” he told her. She knew Eric wouldn't take any of her crap, but inwardly, she begged him to understand and side with her just this once – there was something different, just different, between her killing someone and a random man doing the same thing.
“How do you do it? Just shoot someone so easily, and just go on unfazed?” She asked him. Her eyes projected her message, but Eric wouldn't read it.
“Lots of experience and lots of alcohol,” he said simply as they reached headquarters. He opened the door and lightly pushed her inside. “You’re not cut out for war,” he stated conclusively, “Stay inside and help however you can.” Eric took a moment to give his old friend one more look-over – her body shook almost violently, and he knew that no matter how much someone could tell her it wasn't a bad thing, she'd never believe it. Besides maybe Cougar...
Without another word, he reloaded his gun and made his way back to the battlefield to take her place.
********
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Samson asked Clarice as they walked to their Knightmares. He was nervous, but Clarice couldn't blame him – they all were. The air all throughout the compound had practically been made out of anxiety for the past month.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, touching his arm lightly. “You know how much I’ve trained for this. Besides, you heard Lloyd. He said I worked perfectly with my machine.”
“Yes, yes, you’re a natural. Now get out there and gather me some more data,” Lloyd called from his control panel. The ghost of a smile that had started on Samson's face quickly disappeared.
“At least keep your radio channels open, okay?” Samson asked her fretfully.
“Sure thing,” she responded with a smile.
“And remember not to push yourself if you run low on ammo.”
“I know.”
“And don’t forget to-”
“MON DIEU, SAMSON, LET’S GO!” Hikki yelled, already settled in his seat of their joint Knightmare. The Frenchman practically oozed irritation, as he had been doing recently whenever he was around Samson. Did he hear? flashed through Clarice's head, but she waved it off without a second thought.
“You heard the man,” Clarice said, flashing him a calming smile as she strode over to her own machine. Samson turned, not calmed in the least, and joined Hikki in theirs, finally noticing the Frenchman's unhappy disposition.
“Hey Hikki, are you upset about something?” he pried cautiously.
“What? Oh, no. I’m fine. Just nerves, I guess,” Hikki lied with an airy scoff. Yes, he was still broken up over their engagement, but he knew that now was definitely not the time to bring it up. Especially not now...But still, that wouldn't prevent him from being, as Angel would say, “a total bitch.”
By the time they reached the battlefield, the war had already started. Wreckage stood out at first, Knightmares and tanks and all sorts of things, followed by the bodies which (Thank every deity I know of, Samson thought) were unrecognizable to them. They’d only been out for a few minutes, mainly scouting the area at first, when they heard Clarice through their radio.
“Look out, I see a big guy coming at you. He looks like he means busi - ” Her words were cut off by a loud crashing noise, followed by eerie silence. Immediately, Samson panicked. Had his fianceé become just another one of those giant piles of scrap metal that littered the field? In fear, he quickly began to adjust the radio, crying out her name on every channel but barely waiting for a response. It wasn't too long before a staticky message came through – it sounded far off, like from the end of a tunnel, but Samson thanked God that it might only be a damaged transmitter. “Sorr--, anoth---Knightm------She’s a tough ----”
“Clarice? Are you alright? Clarice? CLARICE?” He shouted, trying to reach her again. Without thinking, he opened his mouth to tell Hikki to turn around, they had to go help her, but a rumble that shook the entire frame of the Knightmare stopped him. It started soft and grew and grew until he himself was trembling. Only then did he notice the large, impressive looking Knightmare that was landing right in front of them.
“My name is Bismark Waldstein, Knight of the Round. Prepare to die,” a stern, icy voice muttered over the transmitter. Samson felt his heart sink back into his gut.
Meanwhile, Clarice had her hands full with one of Bismark’s associates. The pilot behind the Knightmare in front of her had to be experienced, probably older, and had to be a fighting genius. Clarice, while starting just recently, was no novice, but even she was taking a good beat-down from her opponent.
“Who are you?” she asked, managing to narrowly dodge a swipe from her opponent’s sword.
“I am Anya Alstreim,” the pilot of the Knightmare said, flat and monotone The voice itself both shocked and worried Clarice – there was no way that pilot could be anything other than a fifteen year old girl.
“I won't go easy on you,” she responded, drawing her own weapon.
“Good.”
Bismark lunged forward, swinging his sword at Hikki and Samson’s Knightmare. Their coordination was off – while Hikki pulled the Knightmare to the left, Samson dodged to the right, and as a result, a large chunk was taken out of one of the arms.
“Aaak! Sacre bleu!” Hikki yelped as they were rattled around in the cockpit. “Samson, how badly was ze arm damaged?”
“Pretty bad. It’s barely moving when I’m pushing it full force,” Samson answered, frantically pressing buttons in an attempt to bring the limb back to life. Hikki began to sweat; he was having difficulty defending the rest of the Frame from Bismark’s attacks as his partner kept trying to fix the defunct arm. Bismarck was incredibly skilled, he wouldn't deny it. In fact, he was probably the best in his squadron, platoon, mon dieu he's –
Retreating.
Bismarck was retreating.
Hikki let a small, relieved laugh slip, and he slumped in his seat. Eef zat's how all battles are going to be, he thought, well zen, monsieur, feel free to count moi right out.
HIKKI?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HE'S CHARGING AGAIN, I DON'T HAVE THIS ARM FIXED! DO SOMETHING!” Samson screeched. His own eyes confirmed Samson's words, and indeed, Bismarck was coming. Samson was blathering with blurred, rapid speech about how he must've just been gaining speed, that's it, and now he had a spear pointed directly at the lower half of the Knightmare's cockpit.
********
Clarice groaned as Anya slammed her into a large tree. Although the other girl’s flight gear had been badly damaged, she’d lost her sword and now had to rely purely on the fact that her Knightmare was larger. Anya may have had the advantage in weapons, but she at least could take a hit. A few tactical strategies flew through Clarice's mind. Hit and run wouldn't do any good, she'd be at it all night and she didn't have the skill for it. A full-out brute strength assault just wouldn't do either, not without any weapons.. Suddenly, she smiled. That was it, of course it was.
Clarice set her controls for full speed ahead and rammed into Anya as hard as she could with enough force to knock her over. Taking advantage of Anya’s momentary surprise, she wrenched the sword out of her hand and severed the cockpit from the rest of the Frame. Hours had passed inside of Clarice's Knightmare from the first time she adjusted the controls to the end of it, but in retrospect, it could've only been about twenty seconds total.
Anya looked up at Clarice’s Knightmare, only the barest hint of shock on her face. “I…lost…” she said, more as a confirmation to herself than an admission to her opponent.
As soon as she was sure that Anya didn't have any other tricks up her Knightmare's metal sleeve, Clarice jumped onto her radio communication system. It'd been forgotten about in the fight, but she remembered how terrified Samson had sounded, and quickly, she began flipping through channels. “Samson, I know you were worried, but I’m fine. I won!” she said proudly before it hit her that all she could hear was static everywhere she turned. The realization that he and Hikki could be under attack hit her like a train.
********
There was a sickening crunch as Bismark’s sword connected with the center of their Knightmare, just barely missing their compartment. Samson looked over at Hikki and grinned sheepishly, sure that the mis-aimed attack had failed. Not a moment later, the lights went out and the screens went blank. A loud squawk echoed from the other side of their compartment, followed by a pounding sound – he knew his companion was slamming every button within his reach to try and get something, anything to work. Bismarck's intentions were now crystal clear; he’d gone straight for their power source. The Knightmare was effectively paralyzed.
********
Hikki was violently swearing in French as the pounding went on and on for what seemed like hours. “Hikki, it’s no use,” Samson muttered, groping around in the dark to find the other's shoulder. “We can’t fight anymore.”
“Idiot! That’s the last thing on my mind. If we don’t find the eject button, we’re as good as dead,” Hikki snapped, shrugging the hand off. His French swears were quickly drowned out by something else. A low grinding and whirring sound, just like they'd heard moments before. In barely half a second, Samson knew that Bismarck was backing up for another attack; this time, his sword was going to be pointed higher, right at the cockpit.
********
Emiri brushed her hair out of her face for the thirty-millionth time. Truth be told, she’d missed the fighting. It had been a long time since she’d had a good spar, and she was excited for it. Or at least, as excited as Kira would let her be. Constantly, he reminded her of the dangers of this war, what could happen and what she couldn't allow happen. Like I've never seen battle before. Her knuckles were whiter than bone as she clamped the hilt of her chain-sword in anticipation “KIRA!” she yelled. “GET ME A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIELS, I WANNA GET OUT THERE ALEADY!”
Kira sighed as he stepped over the threshold into the waiting room. “Just be careful. It’s been awhile since you’ve done this. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he warned, holding the bottle out of her reach until he was finished. She snatched it from his hand, looking rather displeased with him, and wasted no time in busting it open.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” she downed the entire thing in record speed, and Kira winced when he thought of her liver, which had probably hardly healed since the last time she had done this.
“Stop bitching. Who the hell do you think I am? I'll be fine.” The cocky smile spread across her face wasn't very reassuring. He sighed again, rubbing his temples. “Just...Come back, okay?” he said under his breath. With an even brighter smile, Emiri lunged out the door and into the battle without saying another word.
Kira returned to his station in the infirmary, tending to the injured. It was going to be a long night.
********
Amy had had a lot of spare time lately. With both Larry and Matrix gone, and Rakshata's no-need attitude towards her, there'd been absolutely no work for her in the least.
So, of course, in typical Amy fashion, she'd found something else to amuse her.
It had started with just random bits of scrap she'd found about the lab, but since evolved into whatever she could get her hands on. That day, the toy was long and had a couple different layers of whatever, and was probably battery for something that Amy figured she probably couldn't comprehend anyway, but it had colors everywhere and wires and more colors...
Rakshata had been gone all morning, probably taking over Ozzal's couch in an attempt to wheedle the hag into buying her more things. Amy plopped down in her place, stretching out languidly and mock-laughing airily. She flung her hand out in mock-displeasure, and the battery went flying, bouncing off of a nearby machine (which, in Amy's opinion, wasn't nearly as cool as Matrix's old stuff) and soaring under the famed piece of furniture.
“Whoops~.”
With agility and grace only a child could manage, she swung herself over the side and began to dig around underneath. She was sort of surprised by the amount of crap she found under there, for a couch that got moved so much: the battery, a leftover tentacle, a chunk of some sort of food that smelled suspiciously like pizza, and one more thing that caught her ever-changing interest the most.
It was sleek and small, dark grey, with only three buttons on it, only one of which labeled. The first button, bright red, at the top was the biggest, and naturally, the first one that Amy pushed. She sat in silence on the edge of the cushion, straining her ears for any kind of sound...
But there was nothing.
On to button number two! This one was red as well but slightly smaller than the first. Still, it fit easily under Amy's thumb as she pressed it. Again, she waited, but again, nothing turned on, nothing exploded, nothing started singing and dancing like she'd hoped.
With an irritated grunt, she tossed the remote away without pressing the last, which had OFF printed clearly underneath it.
********
Goose Maverick had decided to join the fight. It wasn't really for any good reason, he pondered, but really, just because he felt obligated to. Obligated to his fellow GAR Street bar men, obligated to those who'd stood by his side as much as he had theirs. He expected that some of them would be hurt. Some of them might have even been killed, or some might've even ran away.
What he hadn't been expecting, however, was the quick pain that shot through his head.
It felt brain splitting. Groaning and swaying dangerously, he began to reach out for something to hold on to, completely sure he would fall, but to his own surprise, his body jerked and straightened on its own. What - ?
That was when Goose realized he had no control over his body.
His eyes darted from person to person around him, and his hand clenched tight around the gun that'd been practically glued to his palm for the past four hours. Goose knew what was coming even before his arm raised the loaded weapon.
As if echoing the gunshots, several cries of agony cut through the already tense air.
********
Emiri heard the yelling from far away, even over the other crashes and cries of the battlefield. Disturbed that she could even pick out some of whose voices they were, she changed paths in a split second, veering off to the left. By the time she'd arrived at the half fallen group, six men were down and all of the others were backing up, according to Kamina's demand. The man himself was struggling to fend off Goose, the last person Emiri had expected, and all of his...
Tentacles.
“What the hell are you?!” she cried without bothering to conceal the disgusted and grossed-out tone. Three tentacles were brandishing swords clumsily and a forth was holding a gun – probably empty, if the number of shots she'd heard was correct. Her moment of hesitation over, she jumped into the fight, knocking a tentacle out of its path to Kamina's side. “You're bleeding pretty bad. Get yourself out of here, and take those idiots with you,” she hissed, not taking her eyes off of her target. To the blue-haired man, who looked incredibly shocked that someone would even try to take over for him and his manliness, let alone a woman.
“No way! A man never gives up; he goes on strong in his fighting spirit-”
“Oh just shut up and go! It’s not giving up, you’re no good to us dead!” she interrupted his speech. If she hadn't, it probably would've gone on for the next hour.
Kamina looked around. She was right – enough men were injured already to the point where their effectiveness as a group could be hurt. He picked himself up, adjusting his cracked sunglasses. “Fine, but...Emiri, remember this,” He lifted his arm toward the sky with dramatic flair. “BELIEVE IN ME WHO BELIEVES IN YOU. PIERCE THE HEAVENS WITH YOUR SWO – crap!” A tentacle shot out towards his ankle, apparently mirroring Emiri's thoughts. A second glance and Kamina was gone. Emiri didn't bother watching him go.
“I used to think you were cool,” pouted Emiri as she countered Goose’s attack, slicing the gun in two. Goose's mouth flailed for a second, as if it were confused in exactly what it wanted to say. Finally:
“I feel the need…”
Emiri paused for just half a second before she decided that she didn't wanna know. “Have you been a spy all along? Were you always working for Ozzal?” she pressed, trying to gain information as she danced around lunging appendages.
“…THE NEED FOR SPEED!” Goose finished with a throat-tearing cry and suddenly shot forward, one of his swords skimming her cheek.
Emiri was unnerved by it – she'd seen scarier things in her own mirror. “What are you trying to accomplish here?!”
“Just wanna serve my country, be the best pilot in the Navy, sir,” replied her opponent, voice returning to its emotionless tone.
Emiri wasn’t used to fighting someone so calm, and if anything was going to freak her out, this would be it. Sure, sometimes people kept their cool against her, but they were never this apathetic, and most of the time, it was just a front. It was scary how much he had her on edge; he was getting in more hits, covering her arms in small cuts as she was forced to work defense against him. To actually work. In a fight. She shuddered.
When she went to jump out of the way again, her back met a thick tree trunk with a sickening thud.
“Standby, Viper's coming down.” All four tentacles came together in a clear last attempt to smash her brains all over the bark. She knew a moment's hesitation from her would be all he needed, but his vacant face, so bland and indifferent, seemed to be mocking and laughing at her and –
Just be careful…I don’t want you getting hurt. Come back, okay?
Emiri smiled.
She ducked to the right, the whiskey finally kicking in with full force. She moved faster and smoother, and when she swung her blade, she sliced off one of the multiple extremities.
“Sorry Maverick, there’s someone I have to get back to.
Goose's voice was still blank, but his face showed surprise.
“When I fly, I'll have you know that my crew and my plane come first.”
She faked a left jump and then swung towards the right – she'd aimed for another tentacle, but her sword connected with his stomach. Blood sprayed onto the hem of her dress and boots, and for a moment, his helpless expression made her feel apologetic in return.“I’m sorry Goose,” she murmured, watching him fall, “I wish it didn’t have to end this way.”
The man coughed and spluttered, blood seeping out the corners of his mouth. “He’s dead. You gotta let him go,” he murmured, regret creeping into his voice as she kneeled by his side. Not even a minute later, Goose Maverick went still
********
While some battles were going good for the Syndicate, others were not. The mixed results showed all over the battlefield, and the war seemed to be pretty even.
Cid and Proof had probably had the least amount of training. Between whining about how training was haaarrrrd, and running off on their own rather than sticking around to learn, they hardly knew anything about the Knightmare they were in other than it was blue, it moved, and when you pressed things, it did stuff.
“Hey Ciddy, what do these buttons do?” Proof asked, pointing to a multicolored panel of what seemed to be hundreds of small buttons.
“Ummmm,” Cid hummed, tapping her chin. She appeared to be deep in thought, but the only response she could come up with was, “I dunno. Press ‘em!”
Both of them began hitting every button in their reach. A number of things happened: the transmitters and lights went on and off, the Knightmare lurched forward then daintily glided back, and a large beam shot out from the right shoulder of their frame, colliding with a nearby enemy tank and exploding into hellfire and debris.
“COOL!” They both shouted, exhilarated, and continued to press buttons, successfully detonating two more tanks and a tree.
********
Tres was mowing down opponents at an alarming speed. Unaffected by the carnage around him, he strode forward towards a group of soldiers, making quick work of anyone foolish enough to try a surprise attack from behind. He had no knowledge of the psychotic man with the tattooed hands in the unit until one of his would-be victims suddenly exploded with a scream. The others reacted with looks of horror as the said man grabbed another of them, creating a flash of light and hurling him at Tres. “Grab him and hold on!” the bomber cackled. The man exploded like his comrade, taking Tres’ left arm with him.
“Hello, my name is Kimbley. And I’ll be killing you today,” the man said with a smile, reaching out for another soldier. They all panicked and quickly away, several of them slamming right into Tres' chest. They were dispatched without a single word.
Kimbley whistled, obviously impressed. “Wow. You're colder than I am, you know that?”
Tres said nothing.
“Alright then...I guess it's just you and me.”
********
Kirara was glad that greatly increased speed and strength were two of her new vampire abilities. In a matter of seconds, she grabbed a fleeing enemy soldier, broke his neck, and drank her fill. New record, she thought playfully, licking her fingers. She’d been worried about being unable to control her bloodlust, but luckily that hadn’t become a real problem yet. After months of only livestock and animals, the taste of the real human stuff at last was wonderful. She knew in the back of her mind there would be problems down the road; human blood was just so much better than animal that she was unsure she’d even be able to stomach the old stuff afterwards – it was like a vegetarian trying meat for the first time and then going back to their dead leaves with salad dressing. It wasn’t as if they were just going to keep a corral of prisoners on hand for her either. That was just cruel, and she'd admit it. Right then however, the future was far from her mind. Catch and kill, catch and kill. Those were her only thoughts.
********
Angel was glad she wasn’t conscious then. As she'd been told later, she'd gotten shot right above her hip, and Roy and Havoc had been the ones to carry her back in. That wasn't the bad part, she could deal with a bullet in her. It wasn't the worst thing that'd ever happened. No, the bad part was that Matrix was the only one not attending to an injured person, and Roy was determined not to let him touch her.
“I told you already. I don’t want you operating on her. She wouldn't want it either,” Roy snarled.
Matrix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. But everyone else has their hands full, I’m the only one available,” he replied.
Roy glared at him. “We’ll wait.”
“There’s no time!” Matrix snapped. He felt like pulling out his own hair. There was just no dealing with the stubborn man standing between him and his ex-fiancée. “Look, I know you don’t like me and you’re protective of her and that’s just great, that's fine and dandy and sunshine and flowers, actually, but the longer we stand here and bicker, the less chance she has of walking away from this.”
Havoc stepped in, clearly irritated with the both of them. “We have to get back out there. They need you.”
Roy took a moment to weigh his options. He could leave her, go out to the battlefield, and trust her in the hands of Matrix. But what if he decided to take revenge on her? What if something went wrong, and he wasn't there?
On the other hand, he could stay here, and leave his troops like fish out of water in the middle of the battle. He could already imagine the casualties just from them being gone for fifteen minutes. The right decision was clear in his mind, but it was still with reluctance that he made the choice.
“If she dies, you’re going with her,” he threatened before stepping out in a huff. Havoc followed, making eye contact with Matrix to assure him that his colonel's words were true.
“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Roy asked his subordinate as they headed back towards the battle. While he tried to be confident, his worry still showed tremendously.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Havoc said as soothingly as he could.
Roy smiled as he pulled his gloves out of his pocket and slipped them back on. “You’re right,” he chuckled, “Riza’s strong, she’ll pull through.”
Havoc stopped, unsure of what he'd just heard.
“What’d you say?”
“I said that you’re right, Angel will make it.” Roy had stopped as well, looking incredibly confused.
“No, you said Riza’s strong.”
“Did I? I must be tired.” He tried to laugh it off, but he knew Havoc knew him better.
“Colonel, Riza’s gone,” Havoc said gently.
Roy looked away. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
Havoc shook his head and put his hands up, as if to say, 'Don't blame me.'
“I miss Hawkeye too, she was a great person. But Angel isn’t her replacement. You can’t make her into Riza.”
Roy punched him in the face and left him sitting there, holding his bleeding nose and shouting.
********
“I’m going out there,” Kaia said resolutely.
“Don’t, we need you in here,” Kira called through a mouthful of gauze.
She shook her head, just as determined as before. “Not really. All my patients have stabilized, you guys can handle it on your own. Besides, how many people do you think are out there that can’t make it in here for help? I have to go out there.”
She ignored the resentful glare the blonde man shot after her and flew from the tent, running as fast as she could with a first aid kit and a small dagger in hand.
Kaia’d only been outside for a few minutes when she came across a severely injured man. It took all of her effort to turn him over, but she knew who it was before she even saw his face – the orange hair said it all. After calling his name a couple times, trying to get him to regain consciousness, she knelt down to heal him, losing focus on the carnage around her. She was suddenly snapped out of her task by the feel of a gun to her head.
“Stop right there, girl. You’re coming with me,” the man behind her said. From his voice alone, he sounded to be far older than she, and was probably strong, but Kaia refused to let herself turn around and confirm her fears. Determined, she gave no answer and returned to healing Cougar. “Are you deaf, woman? I told you to stop!” She heard the click of the gun against her skull.
This is it. I should've stayed. But I'm ready, she thought, because there would be no other way for me to run from him.
“Too bad, we could have used you. Stupid bi – Who the hell - ”
Only after the sound of something large cutting through the air, and loud howl of pain did Kaia allow herself to even glance over her shoulder.
Her offender fell over, a large gash seeping only too much blood across his chest. “John!” she exclaimed. Sadar sheathed his sword, but he didn't offer her comfort. His face was hard and stern.
“Finish with Cougar then get back to the infirmary,” he told her with the tone of a concerned parent. “You can’t fight and heal at the same time. It’s too dangerous for you to be out here.”
Kaia bit her lip harshly. What had she expected, a warm hello, a hug and a kiss, a pat on the head and a “Good job! You nearly got yourself killed!”? She ducked her head down and went back to work on her impromptu patient, but didn't lose sight of her savior as well. Sadar stayed close and kept an eye on her while she healed Cougar.
It wasn't long before Cougar began to stir. He hadn't been seriously injured to begin with, but he still winced a bit as he sat up just a bit too quickly.
“How long have I been out?” he grunted, rubbing the back of his head.
“That’s not important,” Sadar cut in before Kaia could say anything. She understood that no, Sadar wasn't happy with her at that moment, but he didn't have to treat her like an innocent little girl either. “Can you escort Kaia back for me?” the priest continued. He reached his hand down to help him stand up.
For the rest of her life, Kaia would never forget that moment.
None of them had realized the man who’d threatened her was still alive. He'd just been laying there, quiet and still. It was too late by the time he'd blown his cover – Kaia had watched in slow motion as the man lifted his upper body up, let out all of his remaining life in one low, guttural cry, and fired one last shot before he finally fell over for the last time. For a moment, the shortest moment in history or future, Kaia thought that he'd missed whatever he'd been aiming for...Until the lightest gasp broke through the silence. Time seemed to stop as her friend, the man she cared for – hell, even in those moments, loved him with all of her heart – trembled and fell to the ground, blood pouring profusely from the middle of his chest. Cougar shouted his name, but Kaia remained frozen, watching Sadar bleed away the last moments of his life. His dying gaze met hers, and while she didn't notice it then, she swore that he gave her a weak smile.
The kind that said that everything would be fine, but never really meant it.
By the time he hit the ground he was already gone, his eyes wide and empty. It took another agonizingly long moment for her world to come back to full speed and the realization hit her like a truck. Her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground next to him.
“John? Sadar? P-please say something,” she whimpered helplessly. “Come on, talk to me. You – you have to get up. It’s not safe here, remember? John? JOHN!” She bent over him, tears pouring down her cheeks, and tried to heal him with all of the power she could muster.
Nothing. As skilled as she was, she couldn’t bring back the dead.
“Kaia,” Cougar said as lightly as he could, given the situation, “you have to get up. They need you back at the infirmary. There’s nothing you can do for him now.” He touched her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, but Kaia pushed him away with new-found strength.
“NO!” she screamed. “I have to stay with him! I can heal him, I know it! I – I – oh god, why?” Her words dissolved into unintelligible cries as she wept over Sadar’s immobile body. Her entire body rattled like a leaf, and her eyes were wild with grief. Her hands clawed at his chest now, as if her raw need and want could bring breath back into his lungs. Cougar knew she needed this – needed to grieve and cry and mourn in her own way, and he was even torn up about it too – but the battlefield was no place for it. With all of the power he could manage, he grabbed her flailing arms and pulled her up. Naturally, she resisted, pulling herself towards the body, but Cougar wasn't wild with mourning – he was stronger. He kept her standing, and made her look at him, face to face, with little effort.
“He wanted you around to help people,” Cougar grunted, still struggling to hold her, “You can’t do that if you stay with him and get attacked. That's what he died protecting you from!”
She stopped writhing in his hold. Her eyes dropped to the ground, to the body, then back at Cougar, searching for some kind of way to show that he was wrong.
“Are you okay to walk?” Cougar finally said after letting her cry for a bit longer.
She nodded silently, tears streaming down her face. “It’s okay. I’ll come back for him once I get you back.”
“No. I'll come back for him once I get you back,” Cougar corrected with a small, lopsided grin. “After all, I'm much faster.”
********
“MY KNIGHTMARE!” Lloyd screeched. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT!?”
Hikki and Clarice were sitting in the lab as Lloyd inspected their machines, both feeling horrible. Samson had been rushed to the infirmary and was in critical condition. Bismarck's final blow against their Knightmare had crushed their cockpit, pinning Samson under one of the control panels and nearly crushing his chest. It was a wonder Hikki had managed to get him out at all. The Frenchman himself had been lucky to escape with a broken arm and a few minor scrapes. Clarice had found them severely beaten and bruised, and had helped to get Samson loaded into her own Knightmare. They'd hitched up the duel-controlled joint Knightmare and dragged it along behind Clarice's, and were now facing the wrath of Lloyd.
“How could you let it get this mangled?” he asked the Frenchman, not a drop of concern for Hikki's well being. “Not to mention - “ he turned on his heel towards Clarice - “All of the damage it took when you dragged it back here. What did you think it was, a sack of potatoes?” he scolded her with a glare as sharp as a knife.
“We were more worried about Samson. He could have died,” snapped Clarice. No matter how bad she felt about the damaged Knightmare, her friend – fiancé – would always come first.
“Who cares about him? Pilots can easily be replaced! Do you know how much work it’ll take to fix this?” Lloyd snapped at her, just as fiercely.
Hikki was close to tears. Rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, he replied for Clarice, “But Lloyd, he’s our friend. He had to be our first priority.”
The tense mood in the room was broken by the tell-tale static crackle of a radio transmission. “Heeeyyyy~,” Cid's voice echoed through the air, “There’s an annoying guy in a big mecha yelling at us.”
“He said his name was Biscuit,” Proof continued.
“PSH it wasn't Biscuit! It was...Bis-something...
“Bismarck?” Clarice couldn't hide the worry in her voice.
Hikki grabbed the communicator from her. “Get out of zere! Stay away from heem, whatever you do!” he told them. “Lloyd, how long weel eet take to feex my machine? I have to get back out zere.”
“Oh no. You’re not taking it out again after how badly you wrecked it last time,” he scoffed as his fingertips ghosted over a shredded leg.
“Larry, get me a six pack of pudding and - “
His order was cut short as Larry hit him in the head with a wrench, knocking him unconscious.
“NO!” He shouted, surprising everyone. “I’M SICK AND TIRED OF BEING EVERYBODY’S ERRAND BOY IN THE LAB! ‘LARRY, GET ME SOME PUDDING’, ‘LARRY, WHERE’S THAT DATA I WANTED?’, ‘LARRY, DO WE HAVE ANYTHING I CAN USE TO MAKE TENTACLES?’ I DEMAND TO BE TREATED LIKE A REAL MAN!” The room was dead silent as he took a deep breath and regained his composure. “S...Sorry. About that. I’ll fix your Knightmare, but it’ll take hours,” he said a little sheepishly.
Clarice stood, pressing her frame's key into the palm of her friend. “Here, take mine. It’s in better condition,” she offered with a small smile.
Hikki returned it.“Thank you,” he said, climbing into the machine. “Oh, Lloyd,” he addressed the unconscious man, “I’m sorry, but eet’s over between us.”
********
Cranking the controls up to full speed, he zoomed past the rest of the fight; his only goal was revenge on Bismark. He hoped at the very least that Proof and Cid had managed to escape and that their radio gear was just damaged, as they weren’t answering his calls. He moved along smoothly until he was literally rammed out of his thoughts by an ugly, red and orange Knightmare.
“What ze - “
“You can’t escape! My Guren will crush you!” an annoying female voice blasted over the transmitter. If Hikki had been able to see into his opponent’s cockpit, he would have been disgusted by the fact that it seemed designed for fanservice of the pilot. “I won’t let you get away!” Kallen Kozuki screeched at him.
“Oh for ze love of god, I don’t have time for zees.”
He angled the arm of his machine back and through it forward, punching her so hard the hand went through the glass of the cockpit and was embedded inside. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake it off – the girl he had just crushed inside was the least of his concerns. He raced on, dragging the broken Guren along with him.
It wasn't long before he came upon Proof and Cid, their Knightmare legless but the two of them unhurt and cheering for their rescuer. Bismarck hadn't gone far.
“Oh, another challenger?” the knight jeered.
“Shut up,” Hikki said. The sight of him filled his entire body with rage.
“Fine then,” Bismark said smugly, “We’ll end this quickly.”
“My pleasure,” Hikki agreed.
Bismark struck first, moving swiftly and severing the arm holding Kallen’s unmoving Guren. Hikki smirked wickedly; the knight had played right into his hands. Moving as fast as the bulky Knightmare would allow, he picked Kallen’s machine up with his good hand and hurled it at Bismark, knocking him down. “Good bye, you horreeble, horreeble person,” he said, pressing the button to activate the explosives in the severed fist.
“I blame you for this, Kallen,” were Bismarck's last words at the bombs went off, one by one.
********
“Zeus, let’s just go,” Kay El pleaded as he followed his partner through the castle. God knew why they were back here, other than Zeus's stubbornness, but Kay El wanted to leave, right then, not a moment later.
“No. I already told you. I want revenge against that bitch before I leave this place for good,” Zeus growled, picking up speed and staying in front of his colleague.
“Why? We could just leave now. We’d never have to think about her again,” Kay El countered, hoping that sense would work – but knowing it wouldn't.
“Maybe you’d be able to, but I can’t do that,” Zeus told him.
“Okay, but why now, with all the drama going on and everything?” Kay El questioned as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.
“Because,” Zeus grinned evilly, “She’s distracted right now. Old hag’ll never see it coming.”
And Kay El just couldn't argue with that logic.
Zeus kicked open the door of Ozzal’s office, surprising the woman inside for only seconds. Then she just looked angry. Kay El reluctantly followed him into the room, shutting the door behind them.
“What are you two doing in here? Get out, I’m busy!” Ozzal demanded. Zeus didn't say a word and didn't let himself stop until he reached the desk, knowing that if he paused for even a split second he wouldn't be able to carry it out. He pointed his sword towards his old employer.
“What are…wait, stop! No, get out!”
There was a loud scream from inside the office, then silence.
********
“Welcome back,” Tres greeted Hikki upon his return with his usual monotone charm.
“Uhm, Tres? Are you alright?” Hikki asked, exiting Clarice’s Knightmare, careful to mind his arm.
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” the android inquired.
“Well, you're covered in blood and 'alf of your torso eez gone,” Hikki pointed out, not hiding his half-smile of amusement.
“I was involved in an incident,” Tres stated matter-of-factly.
“Ah. 'ow’s Samson?” The smile was gone - he was more than slightly afraid of the answer.
“Still critical,” Tres said simply. Hikki waved his thanks, then rushed to the infirmary to join Clarice at Samson's side. To no one's surprise, she was crying, and Hikki suspected he would be too. “He’ll pull through, won’t he?” was the first thing she said as soon as she laid eyes on him.
Hikki’s eyes settled on Samson’s heart monitor. It beeped weakly but steadily, a monotonous pattern of beep – beep – beep. “Yes, I’m sure he weel. He’s strong, you know zat.”
Clarice nodded solemnly. “I knew there was a chance one of us wouldn’t come back, but I never wanted to think about it. It’s just…I don’t know what I’d do without him…”
“What deed ze medics say?” Hikki asked her, deciding to ignore the need in her eyes. He couldn't handle thinking about the proposal right now – it would just make everything that much worse.
“They did everything they could. They said it’s up to him now,” she said, wiping her face of tears.
“Well zen, he’ll defeeneetely get better. He’s got too much going for heem not to,” Hikki comforted her, but the words were mostly for himself.
Clarice looked up at him, her eyes full of gratitude. “Thanks, Hikki. I know we’ve never really gotten along with each other, but it means a lot that you’re here now with me now.” She leaned forward to give him a hug. Hikki awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, feeling silly.
“Zere, zere now. Eet’ll be okay,” he said, trying to come up with anything to tell her. He patted her back with assurance he didn't even have for himself.
The two of them sat there in silence, taking comfort merely in each other’s presence. The only sound was the heart monitor as it recorded Samson’s life:
Beep – beep – beep – beep – beep – beeeeeeeeeep...
********
CAST LIST:
Board Members:
Hikki Follett - Kohikki
Samson Monroe - MasterSamson
Father John Sadar - FurionTassadar
Clarice Rowe - QueenoftheDorks
Larry Zorin - LAZY17
Professor M Matrix - matrixman124
Amy - Amalgam
Jude Hill (OMG, HE HAS A NAME!) - fool_on_the_hill
Chief Q Holmes - Q_chan
Keith Douglas - k_dawg_3484
Allen Black - AlastourBlaque
Angel Sarcasta - mgangel1124
Lucille “Cille” Compton - Cille
Eric Ominae - OMNI-Enforcer
Emiri - _Boxers_
Goose Maverick - Top_Gun
Proof - NoProof
Cid - cidthekittyisfun
Kirara Amour - kiraralove
Kaia Namek - namek_kaia
“Angry God” Zeus - zeustheangrygod
Kay El - Kagomes_Luver2789
Anime Characters:
Isshin Kurosaki (Radio Announcer) - Bleach
Straight Cougar - s-CRY-ed
Roy Mustang - Fullmetal Alchemist
Jean Havoc - Fullmetal Alchemist
Lloyd Asplund - Code Geass
Rakshata Chawla - Code Geass
Riza Hawkeye Yuy (Only mentioned) - Fullmetal Alchemist
Bismark Waldstein - Code Geass
Anya Alstreim - Code Geass
Izuru Kira - Bleach
Kamina - Gurren Lagann
Tres - Trinity Blood
Zolf J. Kimbley - Fullmetal Alchemist
Kallen Kozuki - Code Geass
Others:
Michelle Ozzal - Mike Lazzo
Anne Monroe - Original