Here we go, another one.

I can't help but feel I may have bitten more than I can chew with this chapter; if you share this feeling (after reading it, of course), please point it out. I always look forward to constructive critique.

Chapter 3 : Breaking Through

Open Training Grounds, Vanderberg USAAF Base, Liberion

"Expulsion in 3... 2... 1..." The seat blazed, and Amedeo in a matter of seconds was fifty yards from where he had started. He was too occupied to try and not black out to enjoy the view, though.

As he rolled downwards, he began unstrapping himself, jumping out as soon as possible. His face was pale, and he sounded quite irritated. "Did I ever tell you how much do I hate this blasted thing?"

The Romagnian couldn't tell what infuriated him the most, the snickers and giggles, or the lone serious answer from Pavel, who simply said : "Yes, about two hundred times, I believe. But I may be wrong!"

While his punch felt the need of burying himself in someone's face, he resisted the urge and merely huffed. "It's like having someone clutching your guts and twisting them around his hand! Sheeesh!"

"All this training can become the difference between a success and a failure!" The heavily accented voice of Hermann Oberth cut in, serious as always. He always had to be the moderator around them.

As Amedeo sat down, he let out a sigh, as if his irritation had suddenly evaporated. "I don't know... perhaps I'm just reacting badly to all of this. I never dreamt of being the first one in orbit, and... Perhaps I can't take it!"

"Nonsense!" It wasn't just the sharp tone that made everyone jump up, it was also the slight fact that it was Perrine who had said that. "This is what you trained for, and you are up to it! It's normal to be scared, but you can't let it gnaw at your insecurities!" she exclaimed, her gaze burning through her glasses.

The young prince looked at her, surprise more than evident. Then he let out a smile. "If you encourage me so, my fair lady, how could I ever disappoint such trust?" Getting to his feet, he followed his words by doing a deep and elaborate bow.

"I appreciate it!" Perrine nodded, ignoring everyone's laughter. But the Romagnian wasn't quite finished : he gently but firmly grabbed her right hand, kissed the air one inch away from it and, looking up to it, said in an exaggeratedly serious voice : "You have my word, everything that lies within my power shall be done to satisfy your desire!"

If anything could have doubled the amount of laughter, that was it. Pavel was laughing too, in its almost motionless way, while Johnny and Tommy were trying (and failing) to strangle themselves. Even Minna herself had a hand covering her mouth, struggling to maintain some decency as commander of the 501st.

The young Gallian, a rather suspicious blossoming of red on her cheeks, remained almost speechless for a second or two, then she regained her composure. Refusing to concede them satisfaction, she answered curtly : "Thank you!" And walked away.

As Amedeo stood there, shaking his head in mirth, Tommy was quick to take advantage of the whole situation and to elbow him. "Nice move!" he blurted out, still grasping for air. "Some more maneuvering, and she'll fling herself into your arms!"

While the joke was not overly appreciated from the girls' part (they were aware of the lingering crush Perrine had for the now-absent Major Sakamoto), his fellow Spacenaut gave him a hard look and announced : "I believe we have taken this far enough, thank you!" And with dignity, he began walking away.

As the others followed suit, Lucchini yawned. "Gosh, am I sleepy!" Turning to the big frame of Yegorov, she flailed her arms and began : "Please..." Pavel's face didn't move an inch, but he knelt over, allowing the small Witch to climb on his back.

Everyone stared at him, as he straightened himself, and as Lucchini's hands instantly went for his chest. "Your back is so comfy... If only you had boobs, it would be perfect!" she declared drifting off to sleep. Still no visible reaction.

Tommy crossed his arms and commented : "You know, I cannot understand why you put up with it!" A murmur and some nodding was the confirmation that he wasn't alone. The Orussian boy would have shrugged, if he hadn't an already fast asleep Lucchini on his back.

"I don't mind. It intrigues me, the fact that she can sleep so much in so many different situations. It's hard to believe she's not from my country, we would understand that!" It was hardly a perfect explanation, but the others shrugged and took it, knowing as they did that their friend was constitutionally incapable of hiding the truth while talking this way.

"What I don't understand is how you can put up with her energy, when she's awake! I try to stay as far as I can from her, but she still manages to drive me barmy!" Wally suddenly spoke up, a grimace protruding from his face.

Yegorov blinked, then he gave him a small, almost shy smile. "I like how she can fill up the hours and even the minutes of the day with such activity! I never thought it could be possible!"

All legs and feet suddenly stopped, and all heads turned towards him. He held their gazes without flinching, patiently waiting. "So, who hit you in the head with a sledgehammer?" Johnny asked in a very serious voice.

When another roar shook the whole base, two workmen at the exit smirked. One declared to the other : "If they laugh some more, you'd think they'd filled up this whole base with goddamned laughing gas!" It earned a solemn nod from his companion.

Launch Complex 7

Standing on the small platform that allowed them to peer inside the cockpit, both in white coat, stood the current backup spacenaut for the mission, Johnny, and a young technician, whose slender frame was disturbed only by his prominent nose.

"It seems we made it through the list; we are good!" said the latter, whose Karlsland accent made his phrases almost comical.

"If you say so, Guenter." Johnny nodded in relief, moving his aching shoulders. "Don't know where you were brought on board, but they sure did a hell of a choice!"

His voice wasn't sarcastic at all; every single spacenaut felt much better after working together with Guenter Wendt for a few weeks, and after they had pressured the Tetrarchy and Colonel Toftoy to get him to serve as Pad Leader. Young as he was (barely a few years older than them), his efficiency and his attention to the tiniest details had earned him the respect of every single soul in the base. And his nickname, "Pad Führer", was as good-natured as it was respectful.

"Your trust in myself is touching!" Guenter commented wrily, as they descended the metallic arm.

"We wouldn't want it any other way. We can't make through this if we don't have a single guy here who's not exceptional!" confirmed the prime crew member, Amedeo, who was waiting for them on the other side of the pad. "No matter how time we launched those, there are always at least two hundred things never done in the past; and if the best we can do is to give our own best to assure this things doesn't act up, we must do it... and more!"

The Karlsland man looked at him and assured : "You just explained my way of doing things. If anything should happen... we'll be able to look anyone in the eyes and say that we gave it our best!"

Amedeo grinned and grabbed Guenter's shoulder. "You really lift my spirits up, man! You really do!"

Above Launch Complex 7

"T-minus 30 seconds. All systems are green!"

The radio squawking on their ears didn't made the girls' job easier. They were all but consuming their eyes, trying to spot any approaching Neuroi; they were intimately convinced that Amedeo was right, they would come out to stop him.

Between fumes and exhaust smoke, the rocket stood solidly, preparing to reach space. And in the capsule atop, a spacenaut was getting very sweaty. Before being locked in the cockpit, he had looked at the girls and said : "I'm counting on you!"

Yoshika, Lynette, Minna, Erica, Gertrud, Perrine, Charlotte, Francesca, Sanya, Eila. Each was prepared to do her best to protect the Romagnian boy. All that was left was to see if it was enough.

The two screams of "IGNITION!" and of "ENEMY SIGHTED, ONE O'CLOCK!" arrived simultaneously. Between ten or twelve Medium-type Neuroi (they still didn't know why they hadn't sent something heavier) charged towards the roaring booster. And it was clear, this time they wouldn't stay back.

As the efficient war machine that it was, the 501st Wing took the enemy on, blasting away with everything they had. With their usual high-pitched death sound, the enemies began to fall; but the others tried to circle around, looking for an opening to reach their objective.

"Sorry! No stranger allowed!" Charlotte commented, emptying her Thompson on the nearest enemies.

The Neuroi kept on coming, despite the fierce barrage they faced. Yoshika glanced around, confusingly registering the triumphant "WE HAVE CLEARED THE TOWER!" and Amedeo's answer. But behind the glorious sight of the R-7, a glimpse of black made her blood go cold.

"NEUROI COMING FROM NORTH-WEST!" she desperately warned, rushing in to try and stop them. Sana, Lynette and Gertrud quickly followed suit, leaving the others to fend off the diversionary attack.

But perhaps they were already too late. The seven enemies were already close, so close that they could make up their glowing red emitters.

Pushing their Units to the edge of stalling, the four Witches opened fire, tearing through their relatively weak armor. The aliens responded by mutating formation, trying to confuse them and open a path.

Refusing to take the bait, Yoshika and the others scurried to intercept them, their weapons already hot from the rate of fire sustained. Silvery clouds appeared, as the Neuroi lost their cohesion and were destroyed.

When the very last one followed its companions, Lynette sighed in relief and said : "Done. They're gone, all six of them!"

Sanya, losing for a minute her composure, spoke up : "But... there were seven of them!"

Their horrified reactions were blocked before the beginning by a terrible cry. Not coming from their friends (who had dispatched the last enemy on their side), but from the radio. They turned around to see the last Neuroi, busy firing what seemed a not common beam of energy. Not at the engines or the fuel tanks, which would have ended the mission once and for all, but at the canopy that protected the capsule.

The canopy was intact, which meant the beam was something completely new. And new was the sound of pure agony that screeched through their headphones.

Inside Vostok 3

It had taken all of Amedeo's resolve to keep his focus on the launch, and to avoid listening in to the air battle raging all around him. He had been quite surprised : it was not the first brush with death for him, yet he had found out he was not as cool as he thought.

As the cockpit shook around him, while the rocket propelled it towards the sky, his attention had nonetheless wavered when he had heard Sana ask a question in a tone that was completely foreign to her.

The spacenaut had just registered the fact, and its consequence (at least fifteen more heartbeats per minute), when the world suddenly hummed and turned reddish. And painful : as if a lightning had erupted in his skull, his brains twitched, consumed by a torment beyond any description.

His scream, that no amount of self-control could have held back, echoed in the capsule, as its shaking became more violent. Had he been able to think, he would have realized that in his condition his ability to keep steadied the rocket through the Control Plate was plummeting, and the booster was reacting alarmingly fast.

But he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything but scream; his limbs were moving erratically, and he wasn't controlling them.

In the purple nightmare that he was, he (or perhaps someone who wasn't feeling the pain) felt as if a cold laughter went with the pain; as if a malevolent entity was torturing him through all this red, that would also become the color of his death, when the uncontrolled R-7 would blow up like a gigantic firework.

Again, he didn't, couldn't control himself. Beyond everything, beyond the torment, beyond this red barrier that encircled him, something inside him reacted. And exploded in two anguished letters : "NO!"

A surge of something blazed through his veins, and the red pain suddenly subsided. He gasped, trying to get some air in his screaming lungs, feeling exhausted and extremely confused.

The harsh words of Pavel helped him regain touch with reality. "Vostok! Vostok, can you hear me?"

Trying to stop his heart from bursting, and trying to focus again, Amedeo was barely able to answer : "Vanderberg, Vostok. I... I don't know what happened, but now I've regained control. How do I look?"

The reply made him sigh. "Glad to hear it, Vostok. The telemetry went off the charts, but we think... yes, we think you're still a go, if you think you can do it. Surgeon's not happy about your data!"

His reasoning part took over again, and he briefly considered how he felt. He was pretty much banged up, his head still hurting, but the pain was a mere remembrance of the agony felt before, constantly diminishing. And his heart now had decided to obey him, and steady his frenzied beating.

Nodding, he exclaimed : "Roger. I'm not as good as I'd like, but I am go!"

The next comm arrived quite hesitantly : "Vostok, are you positive? Repeat, can you confirm you're go?"

Evidently there were a lot of worried and uncertain faces in the bunker; he could hardly blame them. Nonetheless he strongly confirmed : "Affirmative! I'm going to be alright!"

But his irrational part was not so sure; pointedly, it was still trying to get a grip on what the hell had transpired. What had happened? What was that red stuff? And the surge he had felt?

Above the Launch Complex

Confused would be a lie.

Completely lost would have been a tolerable approximation of how the Witches were.

Because the Romagnian wasn't the only one around to don't know what the hell to think about this mess.

The Neuroi had steadied its position alongside the booster, while continuing to spout that freaky beam. And they didn't need to have Amedeo's scream reverberate in their ears and to see the R-7 shudder and shake, to add up what was his plan.

They had desperately tried to reach a position from where they could have shot down the Neuroi safely, without shooting themselves (bad idea) or the tons of RP-1 and LOX in the fuel tanks (worse idea).

But before they could reach such a point, as the rocket's engines had begun to burn erratically, something completely absurd had happened.

While a desperate, roaring "NO!" pierced their eardrums, a bright white light erupted from the capsule, and followed the reddish beam right to its possessor. With a flash and an eruption of silver fragments, the alien was pulverized in a heartbeat. And the scream had stopped, while the rocket gradually steadied itself.

As it kept climbing, nearing the point where the four strap-on boosters would separate from the main body, all ten Witches could only kept staring at where it had been, the weapons hanging limply from their hands, their eyes bigger than life.

"Nom de Dieu!" was at last the only thing Perrine, shocked and confused beyond belief, could take out from her throat.

"What... does this mean?" Yoshika asked dumbfoundedly.

Post Scriptum

Well, there we go.

I couldn't help but decide to throw in a much younger Guenter Wendt, the legendary Pad Leader of many American space missions. I hope my rendition will give a positive portrayal of him.

As hinted before, with the first orbital launch come new problems. And as you see, there is much yet to learn, both in the technology they use, and in the magic they take advantage of. Not to mention the strange abilities demonstrated by the Neuroi, but I think we are accustomed to see them showing off odd powers. And it's not going to be the last time, this is just the appetizer!