Can't Spend It When You're Dead
Twilight on Ganap IV is one of the galaxy's more surreal environments: due to the composition of the atmosphere, the magnetic belts, and the blue-white light of its star, the evening sky turns shades of brilliant blue with hints of violet as the tops of the clouds reflect the opposite end of the spectrum. Whatever gases were in the air or liquids floated in the clouds, the glaring reds and golds mingling with the cooler blues cast oddly-lit shadows on the ground. It was through such eye-numbing illumination that the man walked.
He was tall, lean rather than thin, with a confident, predatory stride that bordered on an arrogant strut. His long, white hair fell unbound to his waist, brushing the gleaming black leather of his long overcoat. Gleaming steel pauldrons guarded his shoulders and the coat was secured in front by only two straps, leaving his chest partially exposed. In his left hand, he carried a long sword, gently curved and highly polished. The man eschewed a scabbard, instead holding it near the guard. Although the weapon's great length—nearly five feet—made such a carrying position awkward, he betrayed no hint of fatigue or muscular exertion. His eyes scanned everything and missed nothing as they glowed with a faint blue light. The light came from within him, not from the setting sun.
The man had traveled long, but not all of his journey was by foot, nor even by vehicle. Far he had come through worlds and across paths few have dreamed and perhaps none but he had seen. A waypoint on his trek was ahead of him, and without sound or complaint or fatigue, Sephiroth walked onward through the darkening gloom.
-oOo-
The town was called Silverdale, although many would argue whether it could be called a town. It was many miles from the nearest spaceport, of which Ganap IV had but three. Silverdale was essentially a frontier outpost, a settlement of hopeful colonists recently arrived on this temperate, hospitable world. Perhaps fewer than two thousand people lived there at its peak, and over half of them were transient workers and support personnel who worked at maintaining and slowly expanding Silverdale's borders.
Ganap would have never been settled at all if not for a fortuitous accident involving a hypergate in Earth's own system. Years ago, a gate had misfired, sending a construction team off on a tangent toward this odd blue dwarf. Had it not been for the ingenuity, perseverance, and sheer desperation of the crew, the entire mission would have been lost. Instead, after four years of painstaking construction and calculation, they managed to build, power, and aim their hypergate back to their own system. It had not been a perfect setting, but it had been enough to open the gates of intersystem trade and colonization.
Despite the town's pseudo-rustic setting, there was no lack of technology. Power came to them from the spaceport's fusion generator and was augmented by solar panels and wind turbines, and an array of satellite dishes and radio towers spoke of the communications equipment within the town. A "wanted" poster on a community billboard spoke of recent communications.
A man pushed his round-lensed sunglasses up on his nose with a gloved finger. His brows furrowed as he pondered the poster and ran his hand through his spiked, black-streaked blond hair. As if he had never touched it, his hair returned to its near-vertical position.
The slender man took the poster from the billboard and scrutinized the face thereon, analyzing its scowl and snarling mouth. Without a pause, he reached out and snagged the arm of a passing woman.
"Ma'am? Does this look like me?" He snarled at the woman, pulling a face to match—he thought—the poster. For effect, he even growled.
The woman yelped and backpedaled, drawing not a few stares as she retreated from the man. The man smiled broadly. "I guess it does," he said, satisfied. "I'll have to keep this!" He folded the poster neatly and tucked it into a pocket inside his red leather duster.
Whistling a tuneless song, Vash the Stampede ambled through Silverdale seeking a place to eat. Or more pictures of himself.
-oOo-
Sephiroth halted, peering into the distance as if scenting something elusive. There was materia here, of that he was certain, and if his instincts were correct—they nearly always were—it was the Grand Materia, Ganap's own Lifestream essence, condensed and amplified a thousand times over. Its distance was indeterminate, but the direction was correct. He would continue on until he found it, and this town of Silverdale that lay in his path would pose less hindrance than the grass over which he trod.
-oOo-
"I'm sure you've seen him," the short, dark-haired woman said. "Tall, red coat, blond hair that stands up about so far." She held her hand about six inches over her head.
"But on him, it's more like up to here, with him being so tall, of course," the taller woman said, holding her hand about a foot and a half over her companion's head. At the shorter woman's glare, the tall one smiled sheepishly. "I interrupted. Excuse me, sempai."
Fixing her accomplice with a few more seconds of glaring, the short woman handed a card to the man with whom she spoke. "I'm Meryl Stryfe of the Bernardelli Insurance Society. This is my partner, Milly Thompson…"
"Hello!"
Meryl's lip twitched, but she continued without further interruption. "We're looking for a gentleman named Vash, who…"
"The Stampede?" the man exclaimed. "The Humanoid Typhoon? He's here?"
Milly clasped her hands, beaming broadly. "So you have heard of him! Where did you see him last?"
"I haven't seen him and I don't care to, thank you all the same," the man replied, handing Meryl her card. "If I do see him, you'll know. I'll be headed the opposite way in a big hurry." And with that, he was gone. In a hurry.
Milly's face fell as quickly as it had brightened. "You'd think we were selling colonoscopies door-to-door."
Meryl shook her head, her short black hair bobbing vigorously. "All we know so far is that his reputation precedes him. We don't know for sure he's on this planet. Are you absolutely positive you saw him get off the ship?"
"Oh, yes," Milly nodded. "Tall, red coat, blond hair that…"
God help me. "Yes, I know," Meryl replied, almost patiently. "It's getting dark. We should find a place to stay."
"But we can work just as well in the dark as in the light," Milly pointed out. "So long as you have enough coffee."
"There's as likely a place as any," Meryl said, ignoring Milly's attempts at helpfulness. Milly was a wonderful assistant, always eager and ready to help, loyal to her sempai and dedicated to her job, and unflagging in her persistence. Sometimes, though…
-oOo-
As Milly and Meryl entered the bar, the first thing they noticed was that it was nearly deserted. Only a few patrons occupied booths, and they were far away from the bar's only other occupant.
"Mr. Vash!" Milly exclaimed.
Vash looked up from his sandwich and a smile spread across his face. With his mouth full, he still managed to sputter a greeting. "Ladies! How are you doing tonight? Would you like to join me? And how did you find me? Are you still keeping an eye on me?"
"Well, the Bernardelli Insurance Society does have clients on this planet, so it does make sense that we keep tabs on you," Meryl said, taking a seat near him. Milly sat beside her, across from Vash. "We still have to keep track of what is or isn't attributable to your actions. You are, of course, the first human categorized as an 'act of God,' you know."
"And here comes my own personal slice of Heaven," Vash exclaimed as the waitress approached his table with more onion rings, another sandwich, and a plate of pork chops. "Would you bring my friends something, please?"
The waitress nodded, smiling all the while, offering menus to the women. She left and Meryl skewered Vash with a glance as he continued to look appreciatively—almost lecherously—after the waitress. "Usually, people look at another person's eyes when they're talking."
"Oh, I looked at her eyes," Vash said.
"Those are not called 'eyes,' Mr. Vash," Milly said, twiddling her forefingers in embarrassment. "Actually, they're called b—…"
"Thank you, Milly, but we get it," Meryl interrupted. "We were going to get a room upstairs to stay the night. Will you be staying, too?"
Vash swallowed another bite of his sandwich. Salmon, it smelled like. "I might as well. There's not much else to be doing here."
"Then why did you come here?" Milly asked.
"Because there's not much to do. I got tired of bounty hunters looking for me, so I came here where I thought nobody would have heard of me. But there was a very nice picture of me hanging on the wall outside, and people seem very determined to give me my privacy. Maybe they know why I'm here."
Meryl sighed. "Apparently, even though we've spread the word as much as we could that you're not the cause of all those disasters, people still keep their grudges against you. I'm sorry about that."
Vash shrugged and took another bite. "People are as they are. I may not like what they say or do, but I can't really fault them for following their natures." He paused in his chewing and frowned, his head cocked to the side. "Did you hear something?"
"No," Meryl said. "What should I have heard?"
"That scream?" Milly asked. "It was quite a ways off, but it sounded…almost like someone was hurt."
Vash stood, his meal forgotten. "We should see what it is. Or I should, anyway. You ladies stay here. Try the baked potatoes; they're really good, especially with their cactus marmalade and avocado cream cheese."
He strode out the door, sending the patrons into a panic as he burst into motion. The sun had set, but there was enough light from the street lamps that he could see to the far eastern end of the road. Something was going on down there, but it was too far away to see what. His hand dropped to the butt of his revolver, but with a conscious effort, he pulled his hand away. No, he thought. No shooting. Drawing my gun makes it too easy for someone to die. Besides, I don't know that anyone's in any real danger yet.
Although he saw no emergency, he felt urgency, and his long legs ate up the distance between himself and the disturbance quickly enough. He drew up short with a gasp as soon as he saw what was going on. A tall man in a black coat had one of the local men up in the air, held aloft by a single hand around his throat. They were still too far from Vash for their conversation to be audible, but he needed no words to tell him something was terribly wrong.
The body lying on the ground told him more than enough.
"You! Stop! Put that man down!" Vash screamed, racing toward the black-clad figure.
Sephiroth threw the villager aside and focused his softly glowing eyes on Vash, who stopped maybe ten feet away. "You wish to add something to our conversation, then?" His voice was soft and mellow, deceptively gentle.
"No, not really," Vash said. "I just wanted you to put him down. Now I want you to explain why you killed that man over there."
"Because I could," Sephiroth replied evenly. "There were questions I had to ask and answers he refused to give. By killing him, I persuaded his companion to tell me things I needed to know."
"Violence is a last resort, never the first option," Vash said, his demeanor growing colder and harder.
Sephiroth turned away from Vash and resumed walking in a southeasterly direction. What he had gleaned from the villager was barely enough to even whet his appetite for knowledge, but it helped somewhat.
"Don't turn away from me when I'm talking to you," Vash warned, taking a step forward.
"I have lost interest in you," Sephiroth said smoothly. "Do not make me regain it."
"I would listen to Mr. Vash," came Milly's voice from behind the Stampede. A hard clacking noise told Vash that she had chambered a round in her eight-barreled Gatling gun that she somehow hid under her great cloak. "He usually knows about these things. Even better than I do even though I have several certifications from the Bernardelli Insurance Society regarding interpersonal conflict resolution, communication, and…"
Additional clicking sounds to Vash's right meant that Meryl had drawn two of her holdout pistols. "If you let her talk, she'll go all night, stranger," she said, aiming at Sephiroth's back. "If you listen to Vash, you can leave quietly."
"Ladies, gunplay is generally not conducive to dialog," Vash said, motioning for them to lower their weapons. "Now please, I believe your baked potatoes are growing cold. Maybe you should get back to them."
"Oh, I ordered the Caesar salad," Milly replied. "It's healthier."
Sephiroth turned back to face the trio. Vash saw that his enormous sword was now held in his right hand, rather than at rest in his left. "You persist in inflicting yourselves upon me." The sword raised to a ready position, its flawless surface coldly reflecting the glare of the street lamps. "I suppose it would be easier to kill you all than waste time convincing you to leave me in peace. Thus…"
With only the fluttering of his black coat to mark his passing, Sephiroth leaped. He flew through the air with less noise than a raven and his blade swept through the space Vash had vacated spare heartbeats before, carving a scar in the dirt of the street.
Milly's finger reflexively jerked on the trigger, sending a half-second burst of fire through the air where her eyes still saw Sephiroth. The bullets chewed holes in a building but never touched the man in black. "I'm going to have to pay for that, aren't I?" She tracked the massive rotary cannon back to where she thought Sephiroth landed, but he was already in the air again, his coat flowing behind him like a bat's wings.
Vash was moving with superhuman speed to try to gain some advantage over Sephiroth's unnatural agility, but wherever Vash landed, Sephiroth was there with that massive sword, forcing the Humanoid Typhoon to dodge yet again.
If he keeps coming at me like that, there's no way I can find room to go on the offensive, Vash thought, and someone could get hurt. With a yelp, he leaped straight up as Sephiroth's sword dug another gash in the street. "I can tell you have unresolved personal issues," he cried, "but there's no reason to lash out like that when honest interpersonal discourse can…"
His entreaty was cut off at the same time a button on his collar was. In one of those moments of extreme clarity, Vash had enough time to realize that the blade had been fine and sharp enough to slice between button and leather and sever the threads without harming either the button or the coat. That phenomenal sword, coupled with the black-garbed man's spectacular physical skills, would soon enough find an opening in Vash's defenses—what little there were—and the fight would be lost as quickly as the button had been.
In truth, Sephiroth was finding it as difficult to score on Vash as the other was finding it hard to avoid him. A pair of small-caliber bullets clanged off his pauldrons from behind, and he landed on the ground, spinning to face this new threat.
Meryl stood some distance away, a compact pistol in each hand. "That will be more than enough of that, sir," she said firmly. Despite her small stature, the glint in her angry eyes and the steel in her voice would have given most men pause. The smoking guns in her hands would have made the rest hesitate, as well. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but you're through here. Drop your sword."
"So much time I have wasted with you," Sephiroth sighed, stepping back so he could keep Vash and the women in sight. "I was wrong to engage you; I could have been that much farther along my journey."
He returned his sword to its resting position in his left hand. "Who are you?" Meryl demanded. "What do you want here?"
"I am Sephiroth," he answered. "As for your other question, such is my business and mine alone. Do not seek to disturb me again. If you do, the consequences would be most…unfortunate." With a languid wave of his right hand, he gestured at Meryl and Milly and a faint yellow light gleamed on his arm, seemingly set into his coat.
A pyramidal shape composed of what seemed to be lightning coalesced around them, sending them into screaming convulsions as electricity arced between the metal parts of their clothing and weapons. Some of the bullets in their guns cooked off before the women collapsed and the pyramid faded away.
"Your choice is now simple," Sephiroth said. "Take your revenge on me for harming your friends, or get them to medical assistance." Without another word, he spun on his heel and left.
Vash trembled in impotent anger. Quickly, he gathered Milly and Meryl and made a beeline for Silverdale's infirmary. He knew what Sephiroth had done: the black-garbed man had not killed the two women because that would have given Vash an excuse to attack outright. This way, Vash would be delayed in caring for them while Sephiroth left.
Who is he? Vash wondered as he shoved the infirmary's door open. I've never heard of him before, or anyone like him. Not even Legato or Knives could do what he does. Is he like me? No. My eyes don't glow like that. What is he?
-oOo-
"Ganap Control, this is the spaceship Bebop. I am transmitting my landing codes and itinerary, awaiting permission for reentry and landing," the big man said, flipping a few switches and keeping his eyes on his instruments.
"Spaceship Bebop, this is Control. You are cleared for landing on Pad Three at Spaceport Gamma, course and coordinates are being sent to your computer. What is your purpose on Ganap IV, please?"
The pilot hesitated. "Personal. A little souvenir collecting."
"Very well, Captain Black. Ganap Control out."
"Why not just say we're bounty hunting?" came a sleepy voice from the copilot's chair.
Jet Black turned his head slightly to look at his partner, a thin, scruffy-haired man evidently napping in the copilot's seat. "No sense broadcasting our intentions over an unsecured channel. Not a lot of people know that this Vash character is on Ganap. I mean, we just learned of it a few hours before we hit the gate, right? I don't want extra competition."
Spike sat up and stretched. "If you like. I'm looking forward to catching him, myself. Do you know what we could do with sixty billion Woolong?"
Jet grinned broadly. "I would very much like to find out."
-oOo-
Vash, normally so even-tempered and even buffoonish at times, was doing a slow burn as he strode from the infirmary. Silverdale's medical facilities were nowhere near the level of those found in any megalopolis such as New London or Athenia, but what they had was sufficient to keep Milly and Meryl out of harm's way. The damage that the stranger's bizarre attack had caused seemed electrical in nature, and in fact the greatest physical injuries came from the exploding ammunition that the women had carried.
They were both under light sedation and reasonably coherent, but Vash had insisted that they be kept as numb as possible to spare them the pain of their wounds. The physicians had felt compelled to follow his injunctions.
What in the world was he after? Why did he kill that man, and what chance do I have of stopping him? The black-garbed man's speed and agility were phenomenal, well above the human norm, and he was obviously not averse to using them however he saw fit to get whatever he wanted. For the briefest of instants, Vash pondered whether or not he even had any business trying to stop the man, but the thought was quashed before it had finished forming.
He knew the stranger was out there and would most likely kill again. If he did, and if Vash willingly stood back and did nothing to prevent it, then the Humanoid Typhoon would be as culpable as the silver-haired slayer, as much so as if he had wielded the murder weapon himself. Worse, time was passing; it had been nearly two days since Sephiroth had wounded Milly and Meryl. It put Vash in a precarious and most unsavory situation: killing was totally unacceptable, the gravest of all crimes, but what if this stranger wouldn't stop unless he himself were killed?
And would Vash have it in him to do it?
-oOo-
The ground car rumbled gently along the long, quiet road leading from Spaceport Gamma to Silverdale. Silverdale's airport had been far too small to accommodate the Bebop, necessitating the rental. The morning sun had burned off the night's mists and brought its odd light to a temperate spring day, and the car's occupants had opted to travel with their windows rolled down to sample the fresh air. Their driver, a smooth-complected, black-haired woman in a yellow top and headband, guided the vehicle with a smooth economy of motion that hinted at a silent, sinuous grace. "And you're certain he was headed this way?" she asked of the man beside her.
Jet nodded his bald head, not taking his eyes from the road as he scanned vehicles, side roads, and any possible hiding places for his quarry. "Of course. And there are already two other bounty hunters after him, from what I hear."
"So much for keeping it quiet," Spike spoke up from the back seat.
"He's awake!" Faye exclaimed, lowering her sunglasses on her nose to eye Spike in the rear-view mirror.
A cockeyed grin made its way across half of Spike's face. "You got lucky and caught me at just the right moment."
"Let's hope we can do the same for Mister Vash," Jet said. His eyes never quit searching, and it never ceased to amaze Faye that he could carry on a conversation and still not miss seemingly invisible details as he watched for a target. Probably comes from playing nothing but Go and shogi all the time, she mused.
Spike stretched, calling to mind a cat that seemed to nap but was ready to leap into a chase in the space between heartbeats. "It shouldn't be too hard to spot him," he observed. "Over six feet tall, blond hair, and a bright red duster? You'd have to be blind to miss him."
"Someone else seems to have found him," Jet said, squinting into the distance. Damn this crazy sunlight. Can't be sure what I'm seeing. "Unless there's a reason for so many security vehicles to be gathered up there."
"Jackpot," Faye murmured, shifting positions in her seat so she could adjust the position of her Glock in its concealed holster. Neither Spike nor Jet had the slightest idea where or how she concealed her pistol in the attire she usually wore, but soon after their arrival on Ganap IV, she had taken to wearing a longer coat that came to mid-thigh. She claimed it was to avoid any further tangles with local law enforcement following an unfortunate incident with a trio of drunken laborers who liked what they had seen just a bit too much.
"That's a lot of activity for such a small town," Spike noticed. He still seemed sleepy, but his eyes were as active as Jet's.
"For such a small planet," Jet corrected. For all that Ganap had a few minor cities and towns, the population was still spread quite thinly across the world's surface. Such a gathering of police and medical personnel was not only highly unusual, but coming in the wake of Vash's rumored appearance on Ganap, it was nearly guaranteed that he and this commotion were linked. "Whatever's going on in there, I doubt we'll be able to get inside and see what's up. We might have to come back later."
"Mm. We can keep this little clinic under surveillance easily enough," Spike mused. "But I think we'll wait to see what Faye's up to first, find out what she can see."
"Faye? Why…oh." He had turned to ask Spike what he meant, but he found out soon enough.
The driver's door was open and Faye was gone.
-oOo-
It seemed simple enough: with so many people bustling about, nobody would notice one extra nurse. Or CNA. Or whatever she was supposed to be, Faye thought. She had simply snatched the first set of scrubs she had found with no regard to what she was going to masquerade as once she got inside. All I'm going to do is find out where all this attention is centered, she promised herself. When the craziness subsides, I can track down whoever is in here and question them to my heart's content.
Such was the plan.
"You! Over here! Quit watching the show!"
Faye turned, wondering if it was she who was being addressed, and it was. A stocky nurse was standing there, holding a large rubber bag and a length of tubing and carrying a large glare on her face.
"What can I do for you?" Faye asked, trying to maintain her cover. "I'm supposed to…"
"Yeah, yeah," the nurse said, cutting her off. "Probably one of those med techs who came in with the new crowd. Well, they've commandeered almost all my staff and my regular patients still need their care. And you're elected, princess. Get in here."
Still trying to keep her eyes turned toward the center of the commotion, Faye reluctantly followed the nurse into a patient's room. She stood restlessly as the nurse drew back the curtains around a portly patient's bed; the patient's face promptly lit up in a smile and he instantly rolled over onto his side. The nurse headed for the door. "Now get Mr. Anders taken care of. No more than one-point-five liters of sodium bicarbonate solution, make it about five percent. Mr. Anders has been doing very well of late and shouldn't need much more than that."
"A who what which?" Faye asked, utterly confused.
"Heaven help me," the nurse sighed loudly. "Don't tell me. Those fancy-pants medical schools don't teach you how to use those enema bags any more, do they?"
The look on Faye's face indicated that she certainly had not been taught any such thing.
-oOo-
It had been the space of perhaps an hour and a half before Faye made her reappearance in the driver's seat of the rental car, and both her companions took note of the look on her face and her slightly twitchy left eye. It might be best not to talk about whatever went on in there just yet, Jet mused silently. But what is that smell?
"What is that smell?" Spike wondered aloud. "Did you find what you wanted?"
"That and a whole lot more," Faye snarled, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. "I'll go find their room again tonight when it's quieted down. And don't ask me about what happened in there. Just don't."
Normally Spike would have taken the time to make a smart remark or at least a gentle jibe, but a sudden urge toward self-preservation kept him silent. "You found their room? How many other bounty hunters are there, then?"
"At least two," Faye grumbled, steering clear of another knot of locals. "Both women, one short and dark-haired, one tall—almost as tall as you, Jet—and brown-haired. Couldn't see how bad they were hurt."
"Hm," Jet mumbled into his hand. "Don't know of any cowboys of that description. Maybe Lady Calamity and Sapphire?"
Spike shook his head. "Sapphire's gone bald and neither of them is that tall."
"That's right," Jet agreed, nodding absently. "Then again, maybe Faye made a mistake in the ID."
"I don't make mistakes like that," Faye snapped. "And roll your window down. It stinks in here."
Two windows promptly rolled down. "It wasn't me," Spike protested.
"Pull over there, near the hotel," Jet suggested. "Let's get rooms for now, set up strategies, maybe question the locals. Someone's bound to have seen Vash, or heard of him by now at any rate."
Later that night, despite the moderately increased security around the town, the three bounty hunters made their ways into the hospital, meeting up at the room in which Meryl and Milly reposed. It was nearly ten o'clock at night, yet thanks to the women being lightly sedated for the better part of two days, their sleep rhythms were off and both of them were awake and thinking silently. At the sound of the doors opening, they both looked over, expecting another nurse to enter.
When Jet's massive frame filled the entryway, Milly leaped out of bed, her stocking feet braced and ready to send her crashing into her attackers. "Sempai, get up!"
Meryl's exit from her bed was less graceful but equally quick. Her guns absent, she picked up a small stool to use as a weapon. "Who are you and what do you want?"
Jet's hands went up in defense as he tried to show non-aggression. "We want Vash, that's…"
"You can't have him!" Milly screamed, charging Jet with her bare hands. Whether it was the strain of the last two days or the perceived threat to her friend, she wasted no time in attacking the massive man.
"Keep your hands to yourself, sister," Faye snarled, sliding in past the surprised Jet to tackle the larger woman herself.
Meryl tried to interpose herself between Faye and Milly, swinging the stool in a wide arc only to find it shattered against the heel of a smiling Spike. "Miss, I'm afraid I can't let you hurt my partner. He's usually reluctant to hit women, so he'll most likely stand there and…" Spike ducked as Meryl swung the legs of the stool—the only parts she still had a grip on—and very nearly connected. "…and he'd probably let you keep beating him senseless. He's such a gentleman. Me, however…"
"You what?" Meryl snapped, swinging again.
"I don't hit ladies, either, at least not such pretty ones," Spike grinned disarmingly. "But I don't have any problems playing with them." He dropped to a near-sitting position and thrust his legs forward toward her, then quickly rolled over in a quick 360. Meryl's legs went out from under her as Spike bounced back to his feet.
Faye was having somewhat less luck taking down the much taller Milly, whose otherwise pretty face was twisted in an angry scowl. "Mr. Vash is our friend," she snapped, lashing out at Faye's face with a sharp jab. "You leave him alone!"
Standing closer to the door than any of the four combatants, Jet noticed that the commotion was attracting unwanted attention, some of it soon to be armed, he surmised. He recalled that the taller one had called her companion "sempai," and he called out to her. "Miss! Yes, with the dark hair! We don't want trouble, but if we don't leave now, we're all going to be in it."
"I am not going to let you take Vash prisoner," Meryl snapped, swinging a vicious boot at Spike's legs. He had since regained his feet; she was still flat on the floor. "You and your friends are going to have to get through us, first."
"If you insist," Faye snarled, tackling Milly and bringing the taller woman to the ground. In such close quarters, her gun would be useless, so she resorted to down-and-dirty hand-to-hand.
"I do insist," Milly growled back, bringing her greater height and weight to bear on Faye, who realized that she had possibly made a mistake in grappling with this overly-tall individual.
By now, Jet could hear the running footsteps of approaching guards, and he called out to Spike and Faye. "Let's get out of here! We'll have to find him on our own! Company's on the way!"
Spike hopped over yet another leg sweep from Meryl and landed by the door. With a vicious wrench, Faye pulled herself free of Milly's bearhug and leaped away. "Too bad you weren't more cooperative, lovely lady," Spike said, miming a bow to Meryl.
"You can call her Miss Stryfe," Milly shouted, rising to her feet to continue the brawl.
"Just as long as I can call her," Spike shot back as the trio ran down the hall.
Milly assisted Meryl to her feet, anger clouding her eyes. "They're after Mr. Vash," she said unnecessarily. "I don't know why, but I know it can't be anything good."
"I know," Meryl said, straightening her robe. "Let's get our clothes, see if we can't find out where Vash went. He needs to know about these three."
"But how will we know where he went?"
Meryl sighed, frowning. "I think he's after that man in the black coat. Find him and we find Vash."
"But how will we know where he went?"
"We ask the same people they did," Meryl replied. "Come on."
-oOo-
The "same people" that Meryl was thinking about turned out to be the same man that their silver-haired quarry had lifted off the ground by his neck. The man shook his head. "I don't know where that guy in the red coat went, but the one in black wanted to know where something called 'Grand Materia' is, and I told him we didn't have anything like that. Hell, I don't even know what it is! But he wanted to know where he could find some super-powerful energy source, something our sensors or scanners couldn't identify."
"And you have something like that, then?" Meryl asked.
"Yeah," the man nodded. "Strangely enough, we do. It's down the center of this big fissure, about a day or two's flight from here. Discovered it about a year and a half ago. It's the center of some big scientific get-together, too, because nobody's ever seen anything like it."
"What is it?" Milly asked. "Like a nuclear reactor, fusion generator, Danson drive, or something?"
Their contact shrugged. "I don't know, lady, I just fix airplanes. But that guy in the red coat wanted to know, too, and after I told him, he left, but headed another way."
Meryl looked up at her companion. So why wouldn't Vash follow the other man? she wondered. "Which way?"
"Toward the airfield."
Oh. So that's why. He's going to try to beat this Sephiroth, not chase him. It made sense; Vash might not catch up to the black-garbed man in time to stop him from doing whatever it was he was doing, but if he could make the stranger come to him… "Thanks," Meryl said, shaking the man's hand. "Come on, Milly. We have a man to catch."
"Oh, good! I hope he's a cute one. I like cute ones, and since you're keeping Mr. Vash all to yourself, it's time I had one of my own."
Meryl looked up at her companion, her eyebrows wrinkling. With the ever-present earnestness and innocence on Milly's face, it was impossible to tell if she was simply being silly or if she was in earnest. Or about what she was being silly or serious. Forget it. She had a plane to rent.
From an alleyway, three pairs of eyes watched them moving along the street.
-oOo-
Days after his initial encounter with Sephiroth, Vash stood in a vast cavern deep within the fissure that his contact had mentioned. Granted, he could have waited for the silver-haired murderer at any point between the town and the fissure, but there was no guarantee that Sephiroth's path would have crossed Vash's. No, far better to wait as close to this mysterious objective as he could get. He would be able to intercept his enemy and prevent any further killings. I hope…
Something tickled his awareness, a feeling much like being watched, as a mouse might feel once a snake had caught its scent. This time, his hand crept to the butt of his revolver. Given the other man's previous actions, any chance at a peaceful resolution had been forsaken long before it had even been conceived.
And there he was. Still carrying his great sword at his side, Sephiroth descended the fissure's carved stairs with the grace and restrained tension of a jungle cat. The softly glowing blue eyes were visible even from the great distance separating the two men, and Vash knew that the icy gaze was aimed squarely at him.
A trickle of exhilaration raced through him, half fear and half excitement. He would be risking his life, but maybe saving others. Of course, that would be only if he survived the confrontation he knew was coming. He released the straps that held his guns in their holsters, both the one at his side and his backup pistol along his back, under his great red duster.
An eternity of forevers passed before Sephiroth stood in front of the Humanoid Typhoon. Sephiroth's placid face, holding the faintest hint of an amused smile, betrayed nothing. "You will not move, then." It was not a question. Instead, he sounded resigned to what awaited him.
"No. I don't know what you want here, or what you want it for, but you have to answer for what you did back in that town." There was no trace of Vash's usual light demeanor; the gravity of the situation left no room for the light of his mien to show through.
"Perhaps," Sephiroth replied. "One day. But not today, nor to you."
A faint whining sound, as the sound of repulsorlifts or ducted fans, began to approach, the cavern's acoustics distorting the sounds. "Yes, today, and to me. Nothing is more sacred than life, and you took that man's life just because you could. He was no danger to you."
"Once again, I have lost interest in you," Sephiroth sighed. He began walking toward Vash, as if to walk through him.
Vash's grip tightened on his right-hand revolver. "Stop! Don't make me draw this!" But Sephiroth kept coming.
It was perhaps the fastest draw Vash had ever made, an explosion of nerves from his brain through his arm to his hand, the pistol sliding from its leather holster, the hammer cocking, and the trigger pulling back in less time than the blink of an eye.
The bullet never struck. Sephiroth's great blade was instantly before him, held perfectly vertically at arm's length directly before his face. Two separate puffs of dirt and stone behind him told Vash what had happened: the .45 caliber bullet had flown directly toward Sephiroth's head and come up against the laser-sharp edge of the sword. The lead had been sliced neatly in two by the exquisitely honed steel and the halves of the bullet had gone to either side of Sephiroth's head.
Without any further words, Sephiroth leaped, the long sword slicing soundlessly through the air. Vash's second pistol—the black one formerly belonging to Knives—was drawn and two bullets made their way toward the black-clad killer. They never landed, either, but partially because Sephiroth was thrown aside by a gust of air from the shuttle flyer that landed on the cavern's ledge. Milly and Meryl leaped from the vehicle before its engines had stopped, their weapons drawn.
Vash thought he saw a look of either disgust or annoyance crossing the other man's face. "You return. This will be your undoing, for now I will have no reason to refrain from killing you both." His gaze turned to Vash. "Shall I give them over to oblivion's dark embrace?"
As the Stampede's face twisted in an angry snarl, his retort was drowned out by the sound of yet another shuttle arriving. This one set down just on the far side of the first, but the new arrival held three passengers, the three of them spreading out in a widely spaced line, guns aimed at the four others.
"Hello, ladies," Spike smiled. "Now, if you please, would you all just drop your guns so we can take this 'Mr. Vash' into custody?"
Milly spun to cover the Bebop's crew with her Gatling gun, leaving Meryl and Vash to watch Sephiroth. "We already told you 'no'," she snapped. "Now unless you want a face full of bullets, get out of here!"
His attention split between Sephiroth and the drama unfolding to his right, Vash still saw Sephiroth's face betraying a hint of satisfaction. He's getting some sort of idea, Vash thought, but what?
"Perhaps I should excuse myself," Sephiroth murmured, the fine lines of his face bending into a smile. "You are evidently a wanted criminal, and these fine people wish to have words with you." He spun and dashed deeper into the chasm as gunfire erupted behind him.
Spurred into action by Sephiroth's sudden flight and Vash's instinctive pursuit, the bounty hunters opened fire, aiming not for Milly and Meryl but for Vash. In response, the insurance agents returned a blistering storm of bullets to the trio, who scattered in a search for cover. It was Milly's multi-barreled weapon that posed the greatest threat, and although they knew it was only a matter of seconds before its rapid rate of fire depleted its magazine, those seconds would be fraught with danger.
"Keep them busy," Meryl ordered. "I'm going to go help Vash."
"But what if I run out of ammunition?" Milly asked, sending another burst of rounds toward Faye's hiding place.
"Then follow me when you do," Meryl cried, heading down the passage that the two men had taken. "Just give me time, that's all."
Milly readjusted her position, setting herself squarely between her sempai and the three bounty hunters. Bracing herself against the gun's powerful recoil, her finger gently rested atop the trigger. No one would pass her so long as she had anything to say about it.
Vash lost track of how long his pursuit had lasted; with his—and Sephiroth's—superhuman endurance, it could conceivably last for hours yet, and the chase was only leading him deeper into the heart of the planet. Strangely, though, despite having descended so far, there was still more than enough light for him to see. The scientists and geologists who had dug their way to this mysterious energy source had strung enough lights along the hallway, but their pale yellow glows faded before an incredibly rich blue glow that seemed to be coming from ahead of him.
Obviously, he and Sephiroth were closing on the energy source and the chase would end. But wouldn't it be my luck if the stupid thing was radioactive enough to kill me? Vash added a bit more speed and dashed along the tunnel.
When he broke out into the origin of the blue glow, he was brought up short. This energy source that Sephiroth was so obsessed over floated free of the cavern floor, and free of any support at all for that matter. The…thing…whatever it was, glowed a blindingly brilliant white, yet its aura almost immediately deepened to a blue so intense it was almost painful. Silhouetted against the brilliance was the equally black figure of Sephiroth, his hand outstretched to touch it.
Vash gritted his teeth; there would be no way around it. Sephiroth would have to die to save the lives of Milly, Meryl, those bounty hunters, and Heaven knew how many others. Silently, Vash drew his revolver and knelt, bracing the gun with both hands and slowly thumbing back the hammer, sighting along the top rail at Sephiroth's back.
When the miniature cannon fired, the report echoed so severely that it felt as though Vash's eardrums were shattered. Sephiroth appeared to stagger, but he turned to face Vash. Although his voice was still a venomous whisper, Vash heard it carry across the distance between them and straight into his very bones. "You dare stand between me and the Grand Materia, my gateway into the universe's very Lifestream. I have endured you long enough. Come. Taste the bitter darkness of eternity."
With a great leap, Sephiroth flew through the air, casting great wavering shadows on the walls as Vash again tried to shoot him down. The remaining eight rounds from Vash's guns bit into the rock of the ceiling. As impossible as it seemed, Sephiroth appeared to be dodging Vash's bullets in flight, as though he could actually fly.
Whatever tricks Sephiroth was using, he was now far too close for Vash to take the time to reload. With two empty guns in his hands, he was stuck with a pair of two-kilogram clubs instead of useful weapons, but he was far from unarmed. Sephiroth's sword came down and crashed against the crossed barrels of Vash's guns. Straining with all his might to keep Sephiroth's blade from touching him, Vash fell backward, planting his foot in Sephiroth's stomach as he rolled.
Rather than being flipped over him as Vash had planned, Sephiroth simply vaulted over the Stampede and landed lightly on his feet. Instantly he was back in the air and Vash was moving as well. The blue glare of the energy source—the Grand Materia—flared off his sunglasses, nearly matching the cobalt shine of Sephiroth's eyes. Vash felt familiar, unwelcome energies surging within him, and he screamed as he swung the barrel of his gun at Sephiroth.
The fight became a savage, swirling dance of flailing limbs and sharp, jabbing punches as Vash struggled to get close enough to pistol-whip Sephiroth into submission and Sephiroth in turn tried to keep Vash far enough away to bring his massive sword into play.
Sparks flew as gun barrels met sword, and the panting and grunting of the combatants formed the only accompaniment to their duel in the bowels of the world. "You fight like one possessed," Sephiroth noted. "But you are still not capable of stopping me."
Vash refrained from replying; it was all he could do to fight this supernatural murderer and keep his arm from transforming from flesh and blood into the weapons he feared might be the only thing to stop Sephiroth. I don't dare, he thought to himself. The release of energy from his Angel Arm might be the only way to win this fight, but certainly never at the risk of damaging that Grand Materia. He didn't know what that might do to the people on the surface, much less the planet itself.
Sephiroth kicked Vash away from him and set himself for another charge. A bullet ricocheted off the floor between the two and a small yet commanding voice screamed, "Stop!"
"Get out of there!" boomed another voice immediately after.
Meryl stood several yards away, her pistols aimed at Sephiroth but her gaze fastened firmly on Jet, who stood near the entrance to the cavern, flanked by Spike and Faye. All of them were breathing hard.
"Miss Stryfe, you need to get away from…" Jet began.
"Strife?" Sephiroth rumbled, his eyes narrowing. She had dark hair, not blond, but she was slender, similarly-shaped eyes… "You may not be his kin, but then again, you may. I owe him so much pain for what he has done, and in killing you, I strike at him!"
He was in the air again, but this time leaping for a paralyzed and shocked Meryl. Vash was too far away to intercept him but he dashed toward Meryl anyway. If need be, he would take the blow himself, but Meryl had to be safe.
In the last seconds before the sword landed, Meryl began to bring her two pistols up even as her brain screamed, Too slow, too slow! And Sephiroth was knocked away by a dark, man-shaped missile.
Landing with a lithe grace, Spike crouched and glared at Sephiroth through slitted eyes. "That, sir, will be more than enough of that. She hasn't done anything to you, and certainly doesn't deserve death."
"Simpleton," Sephiroth hissed, moving his sword to a guard position. "Strife has confounded me at every turn. Masquerading as a trooper in SOLDIER, denying me my victory at Midgar…whether she is his sister or cousin or is no relation at all, she dies!"
"I don't know who you're talking about!" Meryl screamed. "I've never heard of you before…!"
Spike left his pistol holstered; there were too many people nearby that he risked injuring or killing if he used it. Instead, this would be hand-to-hand. Given what he'd seen going on between Sephiroth and Vash, he knew he would be hard-pressed to survive, much less win, but he didn't have to win. He just had to delay and confuse Sephiroth.
"Well, he's busy," Faye panted. "Shall we?"
"Oh, let's," Jet agreed. In tandem, they charged Vash even as he tried to pull Meryl away.
With his aversion to fighting women, Jet piled into Vash, bearing him to the ground. Faye found herself against the smaller but much more agile Meryl, who had no such compunctions as Jet. "What did you do to Milly?"
"Like the old cliché says, she's all tied up," Faye hissed, dodging a vicious kick to her head. "All we had to do was wait until she ran out of ammunition, then Spike and I jumped her while Jet cuffed her. We'll let her loose as soon as we arrest your friend."
Meryl rammed a knee into Faye's stomach . "You won't do either one! Vash and I will stop you and that freak in the black coat."
Faye staggered slightly but didn't fall; there was strong muscle under the sleek skin of her stomach. "Whatever, sweetie. Here, hold this." Her elbow struck across the bridge of Meryl's nose and sent the smaller woman to the ground. As Meryl dropped, Faye turned to help Jet subdue Vash. A snarling weight threw itself around her legs and brought her to the ground with a surprised cry. Meryl wasn't through yet.
Jet was taking most of Vash's blows on his cybernetic arm and hard-muscled torso while dishing out some solid hits of his own. "Just give in, Vash," he advised. "We take you in, you stand trial, done. No need for all this."
"You do not understand!" Vash screamed. "I haven't done anything! Now get out of my way or your friend is going to get killed!"
"Spike can handle himself." Another round of blows were exchanged; Vash felt some loose teeth and Jet saw stars around the periphery of his vision.
Vash shook his head. "No, he can't. There's something about that Sephiroth, something evil, unnatural." He dodged Jet's attempt to sweep his legs from under him. "If I don't stop him, he's going to kill every single one of us!"
Sephiroth was doing his best to kill Spike, that much was certain. Nimble and skilled, Spike's martial arts expertise was stretched to the limits merely to defend himself. The first few moments of the battle were spent trying to analyze Sephiroth's tactics, what he liked to do, where his shortfalls were, but in those moments, Spike was expending most of his energy dodging merciless swings of that titanic sword. But Spike followed the teachings of jeet kune do, and paramount among those teachings was that you took what you could use and discarded what you could not, making your art your own and adapting it and yourself to your own style, your own situation. That meant that over time he had accumulated plenty of other tricks to use.
In a flash, Spike switched from long-range kicking to grappling, sliding inside the arc of Sephiroth's swing and bringing a hard elbow into the taller man's forearm, grabbing Sephiroth's wrist with his left hand, spinning with his blow and chambering that same right elbow for an upward strike into Sephiroth's chin.
To Spike's amazement as much as anyone's, the sword flew from Sephiroth's grip and Spike's second strike actually contacted Sephiroth's chin. Sephiroth's head snapped back and Spike gripped Sephiroth's wrists with both hands, levering his arms over and bringing the silver-haired man to the floor.
"I had not expected that," Sephiroth mused as Spike began to lean into his hold, putting pressure on Sephiroth's arm. Any other man would be in pain as his elbow neared the breaking point, but Sephiroth merely rolled to his side and flexed his arm sharply, breaking Spike's hold and sending the smaller man rolling across the floor.
Dazed and startled, Spike barely remembered to roll back to his feet. That didn't go as planned, he thought, shaking his head and standing quickly. Nobody can do that! It's not possible.
But Sephiroth had done it. In an instant he had regained his sword and came back toward Meryl, and Spike was right behind him.
Faye saw the approaching figure and took her attention off Meryl long enough to get head-butted in the face. She fell back, bleeding from her nose, and forgot about Sephiroth. He's after her, not me. I'm not going to let her get killed, but roughed up a bit? Oh, you know it! Meryl, for her part, yelped in fear and groped along the ground for her guns, dropped soon after Faye had attacked her.
Vash, meanwhile, had more than enough on his hands dealing with Jet; the massive bounty hunter had easily enough strength and skill to keep the Stampede under control—if he could just catch him, at any rate. "You may as well surrender, Vash," Jet grunted, making a clumsy grab at Vash's waist. "It's only a matter of time before the lot of us wear you down."
"Not with Sephiroth over there," Vash countered, sidestepping and stumbling. Jet's lunge hadn't been for Vash. Rather, it had been directed toward Vash's great red coat, and Jet had snared it in a powerful, two-handed grip just long enough to yank Vash off his feet and bring him to the ground.
"So you have a partner? Wonder what his bounty is," Jet grinned, diving in to overpower Vash with his greater mass.
"He's not my partner! I don't have a partner!" Vash railed. Would these people never listen? Money makes everybody stupid! "Now get off me before he kills everyone!"
It was odd, but when he was fighting Jet—or anyone else but Sephiroth—Vash didn't feel the energies swirling within him to change his Angel Arm to that vicious energy cannon, as it had before. It was as if he knew that these bounty hunters did not deserve or would not need the awesome power of his Angel Arm to beat them, or that the only thing to stop Sephiroth could be the Arm. Vash didn't know, and he was slowly starting to realize that he just might have no alternative but to unleash his weapon upon Sephiroth. But what would that do to that blue orb, and to everyone else in here?
Vash flung Jet off of him and dove for Sephiroth again. The silver-haired slayer had just barely shaved some hairs from Spike's head as the bounty hunter ducked, but he had enough momentum and awareness to spin and bring his sword around to face Vash. The crossed barrels of Vash's revolvers halted the giant sword in mid-swing, and the two men found themselves close enough they could see into each other's eyes.
"Why did you interfere?" Sephiroth whispered softly, his voice as smooth and silky as venom sliding down the fangs of a serpent.
"You killed someone for no reason," Vash grated through clenched teeth.
"And I shall kill you and your friends for interfering with me. That is a reason, isn't it? Will it please you if your deaths are validated?"
"No death can be validated!" screamed the Stampede.
Sephiroth withdrew with another of his great leaps. "Not even mine?"
A lightning-fast flicker of temptation blazed across Vash's mind. He had almost answered with a "yes," and that heartbeat's worth of horror stalled him for just the briefest of instants.
It had been time enough for Sephiroth to lunge at Vash and this time, his sword tasted blood. A thin line of red was drawn across Vash's side, the sword sharp enough that for long seconds, he felt no pain from the wound. In that instant, something clicked in the Typhoon's mind.
"Meryl! Take everyone and get out of here! Now!" He felt the painful buildup of energy in his right arm as he holstered his guns. Vash locked eyes with Sephiroth.
Meryl froze for an instant, then realization struck her. "Oh, God, he's going to do it! Everybody run!"
Faye was the most flabbergasted as Meryl went from attacking to trying to pull her out of the cavern. Spike and Jet likewise faltered; they had been about to pile into the fray again when Meryl's cry of terror halted them.
"What's he going to do?" Jet asked. "What can he do?"
Spike watched as Vash continued to circle his opponent, keeping his right arm safely behind him and out of Sephiroth's reach. He squinted and saw arcs of energy rippling up and down Vash's arm. "I think he's about to do some more of what he did to get that bounty on his head," Spike answered. "I think we should leave, too. And quickly."
Jet paused for just a second, then gathered up his gun and followed his companions out of the vast cavern. No bounty's worth dying for, he remembered lecturing Faye once. Can't spend your fortune if you're dead.
"What in the hell are we running for?" Faye snarled, wrenching her arm free of Meryl's grip but keeping pace with her all the same.
"His Angel Arm," Meryl panted. "It's this energy weapon he can manifest at will, but I don't know how it works or how he powers it. All I know is that at just over ten percent power, he leveled a whole town with it."
"What?"
Meryl began to run faster. "I don't know how long we have before he fires it off, but we need to be as far away as we can."
Jet's feet pounded the ground behind Meryl, bare inches from tripping over her. "What is this thing? A bomb or something?"
"A directed-energy weapon, like a plasma cannon," Meryl panted. "Most of the energy can be aimed like a gun, but there's still some backwash from the blast, and if we're caught in it…"
Spike pulled ahead of her and took her by the hand. "Then let's not. You and I have a dinner engagement."
"I what?" Meryl demanded.
-oOo-
Back in the cavern, Vash's arm was in the final stages of its completion. Sephiroth had seen—had felt—the buildup of unearthly energies in his opponent and had withdrawn from the fight, but not from the great underground cave. No, he would not leave the Grand Materia now. His gateway to the universe's Lifestream was too close to simply walk away now. It was evident that this red-jacketed buffoon was up to something, possibly something fatal to Sephiroth, and the Jenova-born killer had no intentions of finding out what.
"Sephiroth!" Vash screamed, his arm fully charged and his heart nearly broken. Damn you for making me do this! But Vash also cursed himself for not finding another way other than unleashing the hellish power of his Arm.
Blinding, flesh-searing energy roared from the end of Vash's Angel Arm and enveloped Sephiroth even as the backblast swirled around the cavern seeking an exit. In the tunnel leading to the surface, Meryl, knowing what to expect, still felt a thrill of fear as she saw the walls of the tunnel growing brighter with the reflected light of the energy from Vash's weapon.
"Everyone find a crevice or something to hide in! Now!" She ducked into a side tunnel and squeezed herself into as small a ball as she could. The bounty hunters piled in behind and atop her and the titanic shockwave ripped through the tunnel, hammering their ears and tearing the breath from their lungs.
-oOo-
Vash stood on weakened legs, his hair now nearly entirely black. His right arm had reverted to its normal state and the rocks around him smoked with the heat they had absorbed from the energy he had released. Crackling sparks of residual energy snapped and popped from everything in the ravaged cavern, and he dimly registered that there was now a gigantic hole in the cavern ceiling, the blast having torn a hole to the planet's surface some two miles above.
And in the miasma of smoke, steam, and plasma, a black shadow of a silhouette turned to face Vash; a shadow with burning eyes of palest blue. Its back was to the Grand Materia, giving the impression that the blue orb was shining through Sephiroth's eyes.
"So much of yourself you have spent," Sephiroth said softly, his voice hinting at a smile. "And all for nothing. The Grand Materia is mine, and you have failed. Rather than slay you now, I choose to let you live with this failure. Let guilt and misery be your companions until your dying day, and may they gnaw at your soul without mercy."
Sephiroth turned around and extended his hand, taking the Lifestream essence of Ganap IV into his possession. Vash, still dizzy and weakened, squinted harder as Sephiroth simply…vanished as though the vile blackness that had spawned him had blown away in a cleansing burst of sunlight.
Most perplexing to Vash's tortured mind was the impression that Sephiroth had, at the last minute, actually sprouted a single angelic wing before he disappeared.
-oOo-
Meryl and Milly, in a hotel room in nearby Granite Town, sat in silent thought. Their employers would doubtless demand a report on this, and despite that Vash was not the only participant, he was the only one who could be found and called on to answer for whatever damages had been done. Milly was making coffee and casting worried glances at her sempai. Nobody had been able to find Vash despite a thorough search through air and land, using everything from quantum scanners to bloodhounds. She put a cup of coffee on the desk next to Meryl, careful not to disturb her as she kept staring out the window.
Despite Milly's constant efforts at helping or conversation, she knew it would be bad form to bother her partner now, at least until Meryl's tears dried.
-oOo-
Far to the north, a red-clad man with nearly all-black hair strode through the prairie. He carried no provisions but walked with the weary gait of someone upon whom the weight of the entire world had been placed. His heart burdened with a weight greater than Atlas himself could have carried, Vash the Stampede walked alone through Ganap's wastelands, his thoughts as dark as the coming night.
-oOo-
"That was completely insane," Faye groused as she sat in the rear of the Bebop's cockpit. "Not only are we out the expenses of the trip, we didn't even pull a single bounty off anyone!"
Spike pulled the lid off a cup of hot ramen noodles. I think I'm going to kill myself if I have to eat another one of these. "Yeah, this was a bust, but still, maybe it's for the best. Seeing all that crazy stuff down there, I don't think we could have taken Vash or that other guy, and I'd rather take a financial loss than be blown to pieces any day."
Faye spared him a grunt of grudging agreement. "Well, at least Jet has another lead for us. Don't you? Please tell me you do. You always do."
"I do," Jet said, placing the Bebop into a holding pattern to await its turn at the Earth-bound hypergate. "Here."
"Oh, come on," Faye complained, even louder than before. "You know I don't like hunting kids."
Spike looked at the bio on the hardcopy Faye was reading. "He's not such kid if he can do all that. Explosions, got a giant robot what-do-you-call-it tagging along with him. He made someone mad enough to put a bounty on his head, so that's what we do. Leave right and wrong to the courts."
"Hm. Hey, Jet! He's got a prosthetic right arm. Wonder if he got it where you did."
Jet raised an eyebrow. "I can have a matching set, then! But don't think that will make me go easier on him. We need to catch this guy if we want any money; we're running low in the bank account."
Choking down a mouthful of noodles, Spike asked, "So what's this guy's name?"
Faye squinted at the printout. "Edward Elric."
Jet nodded. "All right, then. Let's go get him."
The End
Sephiroth, Vash the Stampede, Meryl Stryfe, Milly Thompson, Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, Faye Valentine, the spaceship Bebop, and all related indicia and characters are copyrighted by and property of their original creators and owners. Everything else is mine, mine, mine, and you can't have it!
Edited on 9-5-11 to add chapter separations for ease of reading.