Hello and welcome to my Trigun Fanfiction. I am going to be following the manga directly. So spoilers galore. You've been warned. I use the Trigun Anime loosely. This story takes place at the end of Trigun Maximum. Seriously. It picks up right where Nightow leaves off. So if you were left wondering what happened like I was, please give my story a try. You won't be sorry.
DISCLAIMER: i am a rabid fan of nightow's work and i don't own anything of Trigun or Trigun Maximum.
001
Chronica
The sunrise was beautiful on this planet.
But she was still nervous from anticipation. It didn't show on her hands, as they steadily stirred her morning tea. She looked at the clock again, however, for the umpteenth time. That part of her anxiety was terribly apparent. Thankfully there was no one in the room with her.
She lifted the cup to her lips and tentatively tested the temperature. Hot to almost scorching is how she liked her tea. She liked the way the heat instantly spread throughout and at once sweat would dampen the nape of her neck. The temperature was perfect, so she drank deeply.
She turned on the console at the base of her desk and a familiar hum vibrated as the machine booted up. Several hologram screens lit themselves around her. The files, photos, data's, logistics she had collected were meticulously organized. But there was only one file that held her interest for the day.
Her fingers danced through the hologram as she reached her destination.
Criminal Files.
Her most wanted list was merely a list of two names. Two individuals who had managed to slip away seemingly unnoticed by either her or the soldiers in her command.
She opened the thorough yet scantly detailed profile of both men. Their likeness had been drawn and filed away. Two silly photos were tagged next to their names and known alias'.
First being was Knives, the Millions. She enlarged his picture and found herself wondering if his eyes were truly so crazed as the artist's rendition. But she really already knew the answer to that.
Six months ago, she stared into those eyes herself. She thought she preferred the artist's rendition much better. At least there would have been an excuse for all the havoc he unleashed in the past. At least there was a reason for the deaths of countless people and plants alike. He was crazed.
But on that day.
All she saw was an icy calm. There was nothing wrong or seemingly out of place for him.
She sat back in her seat as confused feelings fluttered to the surface of her thoughts. She thought about the differences between herself and the humans. The life of Independents such as herself did not really exude the arrogance as most humans would assume.
It was true that Independents did not age or get sick like humans. Her mother was a Plant. It is the same for all Independents. The Plants were man made biogenic powerhouses to serve the greater good of mankind.
However, it was unforeseen that the Plants would gain consciousness and abilities of their own. Though it was a miraculous event, it was met with much fear and prejudice. Precautions were taken and the Plants were no longer considered machinery.
They were no longer trusted by the humans that made them.
Even now when she thought of the mentality against her own kind, she felt sadness. To be mistrusted by your own creators. The irony was too much to bear at times.
She imagined that perhaps the same sadness proved too much for Knives and he forgot or ignored the true meaning of his very existence. She sighed. She would never know at this rate. Because both Knives and his brother had been missing since the day the feathers fell from the sky.
The day she saw the bodies of many Plants plummet to the ground below. Feathers trailed behind their decent like downy snow. If the impact did not kill them, the environment did.
The horror of that day six months ago was nothing compared to the sight of her comrade, Domina, fallen and peeled back of her human exterior. Long wings branched in chaotic rows along her skin, her face twisted in pain and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
The true face of the Independent, but born too quickly for her human shell to accommodate. Her body was taken over by Knives by a single thread of will and with great strength she fought against him and all of his divine consciences. In spite of all of her power, her life was snuffed out so easily.
What could she have done differently?
What other path should she have taken?
She jumped out of memory when the in-com in her ear crackled to life.
"Subject unaccounted for…No casualties…Failure to retrieve subject for questioning…Proof subject was residing in Mesa Probe Church in result of injuries…no trail of subject leaving… citizens do not offer any…"
Chronica dug the little ear bud out of her ear and tossed it onto the table top. What did she really expect anyway? Knives was under the protection of a very resourceful Independent.
His twin brother Vash.
Vash the Stampede is what the folks of this planet have taken to calling him. As a whole the people of this place distrusted the Independents as much as they did back on Earth. But for some reason, Vash had managed to build himself a reputation of near messianic proportions.
Chronica opened the file for Vash. Several wanted posters were lined up, with the same picture of a blond smiling idiot waving into the camera. She wondered if anyone had the rest of the photograph. When she closed her eyes she could almost see Vash towering over a group of people with one arm gripping the shoulders of his friends.
The last time she saw Vash, he had been skewered by his own brother. She could remember the dark red blood staining his white wings as they burst from his back. He took flight with his brother Knives in his arms.
Chronica remembered how she had the sights of her canon trained at the back of Vash's head, but before she could fire a bullet zipped through her canon and shut her down.
A tall man came from behind the wall of dust that had been stirred by the hostile planet climate. "It just ain't right to shoot at a woman. Especially, a pretty guest like yourself. Welcome to No Man's Land."
This place was aptly named.
No Man's Land.
Chronica looked up when she heard the doors open, and felt a flash of shame. Her Divine meditations were not wrong, but she could never get ahead of her fugitive siblings next step. She didn't want to have to tell the Captain that he got away again.
It didn't matter. He walked in anyway. His eyes were hidden by the oval glasses he wore. His angular chin was lined with dark stubble lending him a commanding air. As always he wore his flight suit, buttoned to the neck.
His face however, wore appeal for apology. A moment later, Chronica knew why, as a stubby bundle of blankets made its way around his stance.
"I'm so mad right now!" the bundle bellowed as it charged to Chronica's desk and nearly fell over.
"See, I can't see straight I'm so angry. I wake up and I hear we're on this planet Stanel Alpha Vega. But oh the irony, we have already gotten into a fight with the natives from that antiquated Project Seeds. What's this? We've lost half our Plants, battle cruisers, and soldiers." The bundle shivered and tightened its grip on the blanket about its shoulders. "I'm fucking freezing."
"Good morning B." Chronica said warily as she poured another cup of hot tea. "You're not completely awake are you?" Chronica leveled the gaze her deep blue eyes into the dark folds of the blanket.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" Pale fleshy arms reached out of the blanket to steady themselves on the table, short stubby fingers splayed wide. Chronica noticed they were shaking.
"There was no need for your expertise. There is a great need for it now so I…"
Hot green tea spattered against the opposite wall, as shattered pieces of porcelain crashed to the ground.
"Why-Didn't-YOU-Wake-Me-Up?"
Before Chronica could reply the bundle slumped forward with a muffled grunt. She jumped from her seat and gathered the shivering mass into her arms. She grunted slightly as she hoisted a heavy arm over her shoulder for support.
"You never follow protocol, do you? Especially, your own." Chronica chided gently as short pale fingers gripped at her forearm.
In a dazed tone the bundle retorted, "I can still see you weeping, 'nica."
The Captain stepped forward but Chronica waved him off, "I've got her, just go ahead and meet me at Med Bay. I'll walk her there." He nodded and left. But as soon as they were alone Chronica allowed silent tears to gather at her eyes.
It was true what B said. She was weeping. Weeping without pause for many days and vengeance had quietly festered in her heart, swallowing her sadness. She wondered if B knew that as well.
Thankfully, B was quiet as Chronica towed her to the Medical wing.