These are a selection of short stories

- a miscellany of Trigun adventures featuring various characters:

Milly, Meryl, Vash, Wolfwood etc

These are short chapters complete unto themselves,

no continuous story here – just Trigun Wanderings. Enjoy

How Meryl Met Milly

(Spoilers for Ep 1 Anime)

It was a job. No, that was not entirely the truth. It was an obsession. Meryl had encountered the name 'Vash the Stampede' in her teenage years. She had almost dismissed him for the melodrama her friends layered over him, but the fact that no one ever managed to take a picture of the man intrigued her. At least on some of the larger bounties, there were sketches done by those who had seen the felons. Yet, he remained a mystery, with only legend and rumour as a guide. She disliked the romance that followed such a figure, but the incongruities drew her. It irked her ordered mind that he did not quite fit. Something was off about him, and before she knew it, she discovered she had become more obsessed than her dreaming friends were. They had wanted a kiss from an outlaw; she had wanted to catch him.

When things had fallen apart at home, she had ended up at her uncle's house. It had been inevitable, she considered with bitter recollection. He'd taken her aside when she had been only twelve and suggested she learn to use a gun. She had been horrified and delighted at the suggestion. The scraps she got into at school because of her blunt nature had alerted him to the fact that she was a fighter. The way she came home with burns on her face and strange cuts on her legs had alerted him to the fact that she was being bullied. He'd been horrified at what she had done to the bully that had tried to intimidate her, though he kept it secret that he knew that the boy hung by his ankles from the school roof with his head tied in his shirt was her doing. He had suggested she learn to defend herself, should any man come after her.

She had encountered the legend of Vash the Stampede two years later. It had spurred her on to practice with her derringers until she could pull all fifty in less than a minute. She would have the elusive outlaw before he knew what had hit him. She had wanted to be a bounty hunter, until a boy at school had laughed at her for airing the suggestion and had mocked her about her height. She'd hit him with her school bag.

Then she had wanted to become a Marshal, until the day she had witnessed the execution. A unit of Feds had come to the town, and with them had ridden a Marshal. She had followed him around obsessively, until he had noticed. He had been enamoured of her interest, and she, a short skinny fifteen year old, had enough sense to be cautious, but without the experience to know how, or why. The Marshal had returned to town, trailing a man with his hands chained. He was an outlaw; he had a photograph on a poster, declaring him guilty of pillage, arson, murder and many other misdeeds. People had been grimly excited, and had gathered in the square to hear his sentence. She had wriggled her way through to the front of the crowd to watch the Marshal in his glorious moment. Until he had raised his gun and shot the man in the head. The crowd went away satisfied. She had staggered away disorientated. She had not gone home, nor to her second home of the shooting range, or to her hideout among the ruins on the outskirts of the city. She had climbed the highest building in the city so that she could see the skies. She needed a moment where she could contemplate the world without people in it. She had been so sickened by it all. She did not want to be a Marshal now. But that very week she had to fill in the assessment papers so that she could choose her streamed subjects for the following year. All she knew was that she did not want to be a Marshal, and that did not help, nor a bounty hunter if that was the ultimate end of the chase.

She watched the moons rise, and waited until she was shivering with cold and the fifth moon had completely risen before returning home. She would find a job that allowed her to travel. All she knew was that she suddenly wanted to see more of this world than the city. Perhaps there would be answers out there.

She hunted through the pamphlets that lay on the table. Other people in her year were gunning after those which paid the most (a lawyer or a specialist doctor or a plant engineer) or were more in tune with their natural interest. Her uncle let her peruse them when the bar was quiet, but she was expected to earn her wage as a waitress if she wanted him to keep paying her school fees. The bar had been a good teacher, she lost her fear of silly boys when she realised men were no less silly, and most only needed a well aimed scowl to remember to keep their hands to themselves. It had been a day of triumph when she had realised that the scowl that tamed the bar patrons worked on the idiots at school.

That weekend, before the choosing, she had been serving at the bar while her uncle was taking a delivery. Two men had marched in, guns raised and had demanded cash. Life before mammon was her uncle's mantra in such a situation, so she handed the contents of the register over. Furiously hating the men, one had turned, laughingly to the bar patrons, and called them cowards, then had left. It had rattled her so much that she almost wanted to be a Marshal again. Then she had found it, a rather austere leaflet about the Bernadelli Insurance Company. It looked to be the usual clerk work, which she could handle well enough were she so inclined, but one line caught her eye. Disaster Management: the management and risk prevention in case of disaster. Dealing with instances of natural, environmental, complex and pandemic disasters. Under 'complex' was listed 'break down of law and order.' Well now. That included the thugs that had just visited, and that elusive outlaw, and her desire to do something positive rather than simple eradication of the threat.

She had taken a vac job at the local paper to try out her hand at report writing, and to join the journalists as they covered the disaster stories. She had discovered, to her astonishment, and theirs, that she was a natural reporter, and had an eye for the pertinent details. They had offered her a post on leaving school. She had declined, and asked them for a reference for Bernadelli.

She was two weeks away from her eighteenth birthday, when she had been walking home from school. She had her application at Bernadelli in her bag and was on her way to their central office, which was on the main street. She had altered her route by ten minutes to take her past the building each day. Today was the day she would dare enter it. A startled scream made her jump. Several school girls dressed in their uniforms fled screaming from a side alley. She hurried over, as more screams came from the alley. She caught sight of three men dragging a girl after them. She was fighting, but not strong enough to get out of their grip.

"Let her go!" Meryl shouted.

There was coarse laughter, and sobs from the girl.

"You wanna play, girly?"

Meryl drew her gun.

"Let her go!" She snapped.

"Ooh, she's got a titchy gun." They fell about laughing.

The girl tried to escape but they threw her against the wall and she slid down the wall, slightly stunned, still trying to fight them off.

Meryl fired a warning shot and one of the men shrieked and ran off. Now there were two. One raised his own revolver and Meryl shot at his hand, he yelled and dropped the revolver, swearing. He too turned and fled. The third picked up the girl in a head lock and fired a shot at Meryl. She felt her heart stop as it buzzed over her head as she ducked. She shot back, catching him in the shoulder, then when he tried to shoot her again, in the arm. He had dropped the girl and had grabbed the revolver in his other hand and had only missed because the girl he had had captive had thrown herself at him. The man turned the gun on the girl. Meryl had raised her arm and shot without thinking. She had to save the life of that girl. The man had slumped on the ground.

She felt terror take over her mind then. She had done what she had sworn never to do. She had shot a man. The girl had stolen his revolver and had run over to her. She did not care who saw her now, she could only cry. Strangers had gathered around, those who had witnessed the fight. She was so disorientated, that she had had to lean on the tall girl she had rescued for help. Later, in the sheriff's office, with her uncle there, and the school teacher who had responsibility for the girls, she had learned that the girl was Milly Thompson, in the city on a school tour. They sat outside the sheriff's office as a case for self defence, and not murder was argued in the office. She took out the much folded leaflet that had belonged to Bernadelli. Would they accept her now?

"What's that?" Milly asked.

"I want to work for them, in disaster management." She handed over the paper.

Milly's eyes went wide.

"That's perfect! You were so brave back there!"

Meryl stared.

Milly paused.

"I'm glad you rescued me. I've spent all my money, I've only got pudding left. Here."

Meryl took the pudding, even more startled.

"It's a reward!" Milly smiled. "It tastes good!"

Meryl sat eating the pudding while Milly read the leaflet. Her uncle emerged, as did Milly's teacher. Both looked much happier.

"This will have to be put before a court, because of the death, but the sheriff is sure that an amicable outcome will be reached." Her uncle said. "Let's go."

She saw Milly two months later at the court hearing. She was sentenced with a justifiable homicide, and set free. She had bought Milly the largest pudding she could find.

"Did you get into Bernadelli?" Milly asked, excitedly.

"Yes!" Meryl exclaimed. Curiously, the interest surrounding the court case had eased her application. They were impressed that such a small, young girl who could defend herself, wanted to work for them. "I am to start next month!"

Milly grinned and took a large scoop of pudding.

A year and a half passed and Meryl was astonished to see Milly walk into the office.

"Miss Meryl!" She exclaimed. "They finally let me transfer!"

Meryl blinked. She had been expecting an intern from a branch in a rural town, some way east. But she had not expected, in any way or form, Milly Thompson.

"You're the new intern?"

"Yes!" Milly grinned. "I wrote them a whole letter about how I wanted to work with you. They said that was just fine."

Oh. Was that why the boss had decided that she, as the junior member of the team, would take the intern around? Not that being junior meant anything here; her two team mates had a knack for handing her the trickier assignments. She relished it, and took every opportunity to travel.

By the time Meryl turned twenty one, Milly had settled in as one of the team. In fact, she had the nickname Stungun Milly, for her use of the ferocious stun gun she wielded with deceptive ease. Meryl had been practicing with it, and had discovered it was a matter of leverage rather than strength that allowed the tall girl to wield it. Milly's enthusiasm, combined with Meryl's bravery gained them a fine reputation when it came to hunting down the problem cases that they had to deal with in disaster management. The day the boss had called them in, was a day she'd never forget. His desk was crowded with files, Meryl recognised them, she had compiled and catalogued most of them. The three hundred cases (so far) of incidents the company had processed because of Vash the Stampede.

"Ladies, the Agency has a problem."

No, the world had a problem, Meryl thought, and the problem was the Humanoid Typhoon.

"The shareholders have made it clear that we cannot continue to pay out claims for damages caused by the disaster known as Vash the Stampede. We want you two to go after him and try and stop the trouble at its source."

"Mister Vash the Stampede?" Milly whispered her eyes wide. "The one with the $$60 billion on his head?"

Meryl suddenly felt like she was floating. How had heaven seen her and granted her the strange lifelong wish? She glanced at the files on the desk, or more prosaically had the boss noticed her careful paper pursuit of the man?

"You have proved to us time and again, your ability to find the target and to work out a solution. Also, we suspect that the man deliberately hides from people after him. He is partial to the ladies, and I am sorry to put you in this position, but you two would be the only way we could possibly get anywhere near him." He paused for effect. "And we desperately need to get near him. He's costing the company millions in damages each year!"

She glanced at Milly, who was frowning at 'partial to the ladies'.

"If nothing else." The boss continued. "You can verify if the claims blaming Vash the Stampede are true, we've had an increase again in the last year, and we suspect people are beginning to use him as an excuse for negligence on their behalf."

Milly's eyebrows furrowed as she frowned, she hated it when people tried to defraud the company.

Milly nodded then, she knew her friends obsession with the outlaw.

They had to lug the thirty boxes of files out of the boss's office to stack them around their desks. Usually they would have to trawl through every record to build up a profile of their target. Meryl already had this one in her head, and Milly had possibly a better knowledge, as she was the one Meryl had do the retyping when the reports were updated.

"Last report he was in Dankin Town." Meryl said, recalling the satellite broadcast from just yesterday.

"We can be there in a week if we take the sand steamer." Milly said with a smile.

They spent the afternoon clearing their desks and farming their current projects onto the rest of the team. From the chagrin on certain faces, it seemed as though some people were in for some unaccustomed hard work. They left before dawn the next morning.

She had taken the assignment with some trepidation. The man not only had "The Humanoid Typhoon" as a title, with the deeds to match, but he had eluded all capture since the government had posted the reward of $$60 Billion. It made her wonder, how lucky did he have to be to elude capture for so long?

She had only been brave enough to approach the man they had finally tracked down, by offering him a gift. She had chosen doughnuts; somewhere she had heard that he was partial to them. As she had done so, she had noticed another man, also in a red coat tied up against the rock. A prisoner. Well Vash was an outlaw, so he would do illegal things. She wondered what had happened to the young man to have landed himself in such a predicament. He was quite good looking in a slightly dazed sort of way. Concentrate on the job. Perhaps, if negotiations went well, she could ask for the prisoner to be handed over to her.

But negotiations went the very worst way possible. Tied up and forced to dangle from a stone arch, with her partner by her side, she had time to wonder about the inconsistent reporting that accompanied the Humanoid Typhoon. With the confusing performance she and Milly had just witnessed, it was no wonder he had been able to give people the slip. The giant man in red whom they had finally tracked down, could well be the awful man, but how to make him understand they were there on business, and not the business he had in mind? She watched him approach with a mean cunning. Ironically, what had bothered Milly the most about Vash the Stampede was his reputation as a womaniser, and that was the direst threat that faced her in this moment.

She heard a shout, and realised that the cute... agh why had she ever though that? That certainly taught her to judge by appearances, no, the irritating man from earlier had returned. Ooh, he annoyed her. He had stolen the doughnuts, which she had grudgingly forgiven, and he was supposed to be in town warning the people. Why was he where he was not supposed to be? She was shocked when in the mass of gunfire that followed, the rope holding her snapped. Milly helped her wriggle free and they hid, watching the chaos around them. The bounty hunter, Loose Ruth, and the gang boss were both after that man, as if he were Vash the Stampede. For all his gymnastic feats he was so full of nonsense! He didn't seem to take his own life seriously, but yet, somehow, was still not dead. It was as if he were playing an intricate game with them. A game to entertain himself. It was as though he had done this before, and it was his way of making it interesting. She blinked, exactly how many times did one have to gamble with ones life to be bored of it? What was she thinking?

She watched him leap and bound off Descartes's spinning boomerang and flip the switch that dragged it back, incapacitating the man. He then turned to her and Milly and gave them a thumbs up and asked if he had earned their 'payment' of doughnuts and $$10. She stared in disbelief. He wanted praise? Now? After all that performance? All she wanted to do was throw a rock at him. No wonder the Bounty Hunter and the Gang Boss had been after him, he must have seriously got up their noses as well. He gave a sudden wild yell and she watched in disbelief as the man vanished in a cloud of smoke as the explosives went off. The mountainside slipped away and crashed onto the town below. Now she was furious. If he had warned the town, there would have been no one there to be hurt. He wouldn't have interrupted the fight and there would have been no exploding dynamite. Er, they would still be strung up, or worse, raped or dead ... Ooh, she did not know what she wanted to do. She felt like throttling him, even though she knew she owed him her life. Aggh! She looked down at the landslide. No time to be thinking about the stupid man now. That disaster there looked to be a week long detour of hard work before they could return to their Vash hunt.