Dancing Dragonflies. (Worm/ Cross Ange: Rondo of Angels and Dragons)
Arc 1.7 Mom.
/x/
Tusk
/x/
My eyes darted around the corridors for signs of a certain orange-headed lizard scientist looking to drag me off for breeding experiments as I approached Hilda's apartment. Ange's other spouse had a rather sizeable house in the expanded settlements built on reclaimed land in the back of the island, but she barely uses that after Claudia turned eighteen a year ago and began official cadet training. I heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that I wasn't going to be hauled off to impregnate a whole gaggle of Auric dragon girls once I dashed into a corridor guarded by two Norma in green, their eyes shooting me an annoyed gaze while their rifles twitched at my unexpected intrusion. None of the other Auric People barring Salamandinay were allowed access into the Arzenal Officer's Quarters, which meant I was safe as I gave a wink and salute to the two guarding Norma.
Hmm, they're rolling their eyes while waving me in. Guess being dead for almost ten and a half years really does a number on my charm. That or they're exclusively gay. Quite a number of them among the ranks of the Norma. I knocked on the door of Hilda's apartment, where Ange was supposed to be spending the night at. Spending almost two decades on Earth Bet had given me a number of complex feelings regarding Ange's penchant for polyamory, even if she's mostly restricted herself to Hilda, maybe Salamandinay and if rumours are true- Ersha.
Though I'm sure Ersha's definitely not to my wife's taste. Too maternal, eleven kids from different partnering DNA donors and with a streak of possessiveness that's driven off a couple of partners she's had already.
"Come in, Tusk. Hilda's sound asleep."
The metal door slid open, revealing a spacious room, decorated rather gaudily with lots of purple and pinkish red. I saw Hilda's prone figure on her large bed, covered in her orange sheets snoring away, oblivious to the world. My wife laid in the hot tub at the corner of the room, looking over a tablet computer while her face was locked in a worried frown. I removed my boots as I entered, laying on a shoe rack before walking over to Ange who laid the tablet aside as she smiled at my approach. The minute I got within two feet of her, she leapt out of the tub, her body dripping wet while she locked lips with me and pressed me against a sofa that laid beneath an open window. Ange's wild streak never failed to get my motor running, even as she began to undo my belt with damp hands. I struggled to keep my libido in check as I grabbed her busy fingers, prompting a puzzled stare from my wife.
"I know you're hungry for seconds, dear." Her lewd smile in response nearly got me to forget what I was here for. "But we need to talk about Taylor."
Ange's worried frown returned in full force at the mention of our daughter. She let go of my pants and belt, reaching for a bathrobe and began to towel her wet hair.
"What a coincidence. I too was worrying over our child."
Ange continued to wipe her damp mane as she handed me the tablet she was engrossed in not so long ago. I scrolled through the report, looking at the last medical report from a month ago about the stability of Taylor's genetic modification and her general health. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding after I finished the analysis by both Doctor Gecko and Maggie, signed off by Aura herself. Seems like Taylor's modifications and implants of Embryo's technology has finally been completed, with no plausible chance of a horrendous mutation or even quantum blowback. The latter especially makes me shudder, considering the horrifying effects the last time I saw it happen on Taylor during her early years. Now I know why science fiction writers are so adamant of the theory that failed teleportation is a messy affair.
"Danny."
I peeled my eyes away from the tablet, giving my wife my full attention. Ange only calls me by that name when she's speaking about Taylor. After Taylor was removed from the artificial womb and implanted into her own, Ange calls me that almost exclusively when we were living on Bet. The memories of that world are bittersweet, with people like Emily, Thomas, Annette, Alan and James shaping my life almost as much as the Norma, my own parents and Embryo did. Ange herself looks like she aged decades at the mere mention of that world. Considering I spent most of the past six months since my revival in and out of a medical induced coma while the genetic treatments did their work, I didn't get much of a chance to speak with my wife regarding her life on Bet after I had passed on. I pulled her in for a hug, her head resting on my chest while we set the tablet aside. Silence passed, as I basked in a quiet moment with the woman I had nearly given my life for several times.
"Ange." Red eyes glittered with uncertainty as my wife looked at me.
"What happened to Taylor? I can tell she's messed up despite seeing her for only a few hours."
Ange flinched at my question, raising alarms in my head. Ange never flinched.
"Danny, I…" She squeezed my shoulders hard as she shuddered. My heart sank, both at her despair and the dread at her answer.
"I think I broke Taylor, Danny. I broke our daughter."
"Explain." My wife flinched, much like the time when I blew up at her when she trashed the Libertus revolution against Embryo which my family had perished for.
"I was having some pillow talk with Hilda just now, regarding the situation of our girls." The cloth of my t-shirt strained under Ange's strong fingers as she pulled at them. "I'm sure you've seen how Claudia is, but when Hilda mentioned that Taylor reminds her of me before Momoka and you were around, that really scared me."
"What happened, Ange?" I found myself barely keeping my tone and emotion in check. I remembered the damaged girl I picked up from the wreck of the Vilkiss, how dangerous and scarred in mind and body she was. Just what the hell happened to make Taylor follow in her footsteps like that?
"You remember how we discovered Embryo's technology would do…things to Taylor when the unchecked quantum technology rearranged Taylor randomly."
I nodded in response, not wanting to mouth the words as if it was a jinx. Those damn time warp effects started happening when Taylor was about a year old when the gene splicing started to mature. Seeing how her body would be transformed into mutant horrors due to the implanted technology backfiring thanks to the Norma genes interfering gave me nightmares. I sometimes wondered if Embryo got a brainstorm regarding a child born between a Norma and one of us Ancient Humans after seeing me, leaving behind a particularly sadistic trap for us in case of his death.
Find a way to kill me off? Congratulations. Your children can not use my tech and die slowly of dragonium poisoning, or you can attempt to use it and have them suffer.
Embryo, if this is your revenge for me going all the way with Ange before you, fuck you. You still got creepzoned.
If there was any consolation, Taylor never remembered anything about these episodes, her mind a blissful blank post incident. Small blessings, considering what memories of what happened to her might have done to her psyche. Ange was now hyperventilating, her hands balled into fists as she remembered the times when we realised that a post Embryo world presented us with a horrible choice of choosing Taylor's death. I rubbed her back to soothe her, recalling the helplessness when we were presented with the stark facts of Taylor's life.
"After you died from the radiant dragonium poisoning, I brought Momoka along with me back to Earth Bet." Ange bit down a sob as she looked into the window, visualizing those days.
"Things got worse. A lot worse. We had developed dragonium receptors and implants by then, so that Momoka could use the Light of Mana on Bet. Turns out that having an active source of dragonium and use of Mana makes the quantum technology even more unstable."
A fire burnt in Ange's eyes as she retold her story of how she dealt with things after my passing. That wild, unquenchable fire that allowed her to defy the God who made her species and drove him wild for her.
"Removing an active source of dragonium didn't do anything. Anyone who's a Manaist would aggravate Taylor's condition, making it worse. It took me many tries before I found a safe distance for Momoka to watch over Taylor when I scoured all three Earths for something that would cure her."
It must have stabbed Momoka to realise she was partially responsible for making her young mistress suffer.
"How about mixing DRAGON DNA with Taylor? That resolved the issue with Medea." Ange gave a bitter laugh at my suggestion. Medea was a good kid, helpful when I first met her this afternoon in the hangar. Despite the fact she's already in her early twenties, not counting the years spent in the artificial incubators the young pilot had a steady head on her shoulders and according to her peers and seniors a good judge of character.
"Aura herself told me that it was more likely to cause further harm than help. Mixing the D-type Genotype with Norma and Ancient Human DNA had to be done in-vitro to produce the required dragonium resistance. Between the quantum healing tech and Taylor already being too old, it wouldn't do much good." My beloved laid back into my shoulder, utterly exhausted.
"I was even tracking Gray Boy when I finally received word from Aura that she managed to find a solution to stabilize our girl. Thank God Momoka and I were able to apply it on Taylor by mixing it with her food." I pulled Ange in for a tight embrace at that revelation. Who knows what might have happened if Ange had successfully tracked down the most dreaded of the Slaughterhouse Nine.
"Five years, Danny. For those five years I had to live alone in dread of a call from Momoka when I was elsewhere on Earth Bet, the Mana Earth or the Auric Earth looking for a cure, overseeing the building of Arzenal here or a thousand other things. I lost count of how many times I had to face a wailing mass of flesh that was my daughter, caught in some horrific time loop of mutation and mutilation, having to mercy kill her so she can be reborn on my return to Brockton Bay."
A dull sheen overcame her ruby eyes, her voice a dull monotone.
"The worst part of this? I stopped feeling guilt after who knows how many times I had to put her down. I would dismiss Momoka and do the deed mechanically, like I would dispatch some random thug or club wielding militant in a jungle war I was caught up in back on Bet."
Ange fixed me with a haunted stare, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I was killing her like I was doing with Embryo, Danny. I had given up and was thinking of a way to permanently end her suffering until Aura told me she had a way to fix it, that she would be okay eventually."
I stared silently at my shaking wife, speechless before Hilda's husky voice cut in and reminded me why Ange is also in love with her.
"For the love of….give me a break. Next you're going to be a blubbering wreck over how you started to view killing and then re-killing your kid like a chore."
Hilda walked over from the bed, clad in a layer of sweat and not much else. I averted my eyes, despite being intimately familiar with the redhead's body. The two of them liked to experiment sometimes. Hilda pulled Ange's face to face her, glowering at my wife. Salamandinay once remarked if Momoka and I brought out the sweet side of Ange, Hilda brought out the decisive, take charge facet of my beloved.
"Raising kids are a chore! The kind that breaks your back, your heart and your fucking mind. So that pencil dick Embryo left a flaming bag of dog shit in the form of a genetic fuck you? Screw him like you didn't. Taylor's broken, but so is Claudia. We will do both of them at the same time."
Despite everything, I faced Hilda with a frown to express my disapproval. From the corner of my vision, I could see Ange doing the same.
"Did you just use a double entendre while talking about our kids?" Speaking in stereo with the missus. That's when you know you're an old couple.
"Sure did, Princess!" Hilda boasted with a smirk. "We're all antisocial, violent, non-human Normas after all."
Ange gave a light laugh at that, her mood lightening. She picked up her tablet, bringing up a video window showing a streaming live feed of the former Rosenblum estate.
"Well, Claudia probably won't be using her night clothes too much, all things considered." Hilda actually looked proud as she commented on her daughter.
Yeah, considering the two sets of clothing strewn outside her bed, Trish and Millia have decided to pay their friend a visit.
"Tusk, Hilda?" Ange pulled us both into a bear hug, planting light kisses on our cheeks.
"Let's go spend some time with our kids."
/x/
The moments after waking up for me has always been a rather…dreary affair after the home invasion and Dad died. Waking up in a bed usually alone, surrounded by furniture that's neatly positioned for ease of access to cover and concealment in case of a firefight. Where improvised weapons and later as I grew older, actual firearms were placed in hidden spaces that would allow me to give any burglar a nasty surprise. Not that anyone ever tried to break into my home after some gangbangers tried to raid our place at the height of the gang war between the Teeth, Marquis and the Empire. Hearing about the crazy merc who keeps an entire arsenal in her home, it was probably too tempting a target.
Heh, Arsenal. Mom never really left home in hindsight.
So much blood spilled, but I missed out on most of the violence since the only thing I heard was gunshots and screams after some of them triggered one of the booby traps Mom left in the backyard.
Mom killed the lights, bundled me into a prepped panic room she made herself, and then she went hunting. In the aftermath when the paramedics were treating her own wounds including a gunshot to the shoulder that somehow missed shattering her bones, Mom told me to stay away when I approached.
"Sorry, honey. Too much blood on me to give you a hug and kiss." Well, if she was wisecracking and giving me a wink, I guess she's probably not too badly hurt, so I ignored her instructions and hugged her anyway. The paramedics used so many drugs to calm her blubbering, bawling ass down, a rock band from the eighties will stage an intervention.
But I guess I didn't mind the blood too much, even if getting the stains off was difficult. Who knew she had so much bottled up?
When I was browsing PHO forums one night, one of the old timers who claim to have been a former crew member of Marquis said the crime lord would use that house as a cautionary tale as to why raiding homes for supplies was forbidden.
Waking up in Arzenal on the other hand was quite a different experience. For one thing, when I woke up this time round I wasn't tightly wound up like a spring ready to burst. No school awaiting me, no audible whispers by groups in class and the hallways. No glances of pity laced with fear from the staff. No having to tell another gang to piss off from their recruiting attempt.
Not having to deal with the drudgery of daily life really does things to lower your stress levels.
Freshly washed sheets, silky smooth blankets in deep purple laced with silver and so many pillows. The air smelt of washed, sundried sheets and perfume, rather than oil, cordite and metal. Not a single pillow, cushion or bolster with a baton, less a firearm sewn inside. A soft mattress I can lose myself in like the warm waters of a pool, the light beige curtains dimming the piercing sun so it's a gentle dim glow than a piercing harsh light. The soft touch of a silky white negligee on my skin along with comfortable cotton underwear that cupped my growing chest. Well, this place is certainly luxurious at least. I purred as I indulged in the creature comforts provided, turning over to lie on the hard, sculpted bare chest of Dad.
Through the bleary haze of my mind, I started to recount how many things are wrong.
Going to sleep as an A-cup and waking to a B overnight? Check. Went to sleep in a bra with pants and woke in an expensive frilly underwear and sleepwear I would never, ever in a million years look at much less wear? Check. Dad that died of cancer and was brought back with bullshit super-science after he was turned into ice-sculpture, looking so, so ridiculously hot and bare chested and I totally do not want to go there lying next to me? Motherfucking check!
Wait? No, bad Taylor. Do not think of fucking when in the presence of a mega hottie who's also your father! Do not go down that route!
Okay, let's distract myself from thinking of Dad! Let's think of…Alan. Yeah! Old, grumpy and forever strung out Alan whose nerves are shot to hell dealing with Mom. Yeah, nothing desirable about him. Only a muscled physique, really cute freckles on dimpled cheeks and fire engine hair with blonde highlights. That oh so smoky look she gives when being a complete bitch and you want to push her down and do….Damn it! Goddam teenage hormones making me confuse my stabbing wants with my other wants!
Fantasizing about Creepy Claudia of all people! Someone fetch me a bucket, I need to hurl.
Muffled moans piqued my morbid curiosity as I gingerly crawled over the slumbering, sculpted figure of my father, taking care to avoid looking at his rugged, poster boy looks. Despite my cheeks burning up, I thanked whichever deity that decide to feel charitable today that my parent was wearing proper pants at least. I reached for the canopy that hung over the bed frame, and heard the muffled moaning that came from the other end of this massive suite. I saw a skirted shadow walk to the side of the bed, her hands placed on her apron. Well, at least the silent guardian service is as effective as ever.
"Momoka. Why are there moaning noises coming from Creepy Claudia's bed?" Despite only seeing the shadow cast on the drapes, I could make out my family maid's eyes blinking in confusion.
"Mom's kid from her lesbian relation, Momoka." I could almost hear her lips turning down into a frown. "Please don't tell me it involves my mother?" The thump of a body hitting the floor came from Claudia's bed, and a slight opening in the bed's curtains was pulled as I saw Momoka looking in from the gap.
"Perhaps you'd like to take a look, Lady Taylor?" I crawled over to the opening and peeked out, just in time to see that brunette with tinged orange highlights who got her face slammed into the ground by the guards. Specifically, I got a chance to see her rubbing her butt while stark naked at the foot of Creepy's bed, while Claudia was looking bored with the blue haired lackey of hers doing something that's thankfully blocked by the canopy. Though from Claudia's bare shoulders, I can guess they're probably in their birthday suits as well. .
"That would be Ms Trish and Ms Millia having their ménage a trois with Lady Claudia." Momoka said in a small voice, apparently used to being discreet at her employer's children's dalliances. "Ms Millia apparently is still as….clumsy as before when doing the nightly visit."
Hmm, so the dumb looking brunette with orange is named Millia and the chick with the blue hair is named Trish. Good to know who I'm eyeing with disgust in the future. Claudia probably caught me looking in, as her face split into a lascivious smile while pulling Millia back into her love nest, her eyes fixed towards me. I hastily pulled the canopy in again when I saw my half-sister pull hers further apart to let me see her debauchery in full glory.
"Shameless!" I spat out after my heartbeat stopped threatening to burst from my chest at the wanton display Claudia had put out for me. Dad of course chose this time to slowly rise from the covers, causing me to cover my face in embarrassment. Claudia's laughter rang out as she enjoyed my display of common decency, before the sound of the canopy being pulled enticed my curiosity enough for me to sneak a peek through my fingers. Dad had already begun tying up the drapes to the edge of the bed frame, still clad only in a pair of cotton pants. I stared at the impossibly youthful figure of my father as he began preparing for the day, throwing a punch at Claudia as she tried to sneak up on me.
Figures. Ms Creepy parried my fist while backing away, giggling through every second of our short, violent bout of friendly sisterly violence. She was dressed in the same frilly sleepwear that I was while her two suckerfish had changed into a pair of sports bras and shorts.
"Frustrated you didn't get a peek?" God, the way she was wiggling her eyebrows at me makes me want to pluck it out.
"Not really. Considering that everyone on this rock has went spelunking in your holes, I'm not really into well-worn tourist traps." Oh yeah, that's what I'm going for. That look of surprise and rage that someone considered beneath you just bit back! Dumb and Quiet of course took this affront to their mistress like the good doggies they are as they began to posture menacingly from behind her, while I got to my feet, my fists raised for a fight.
Three on one odds? Good for a morning workout.
"Okay, that's enough." Dad said in a resigned tone before he and Momoka used the distraction I provided to circle behind the two stooges, sweeping them off their feet and pinning them onto the floor face first with an arm lock. As the two yelped in pain, Dad shot a warning look to Claudia, who was glaring at Dad for interfering.
"You're not my parent, Tusk." Chilling. I should learn to hiss like an ice queen from her one of these days. Or maybe not, since I can't really stand her.
"No. But Ange is." Dad and Momoka got up and released the two from their grip, the two goons quickly rushing to the side of Claudia.
"You have a busy day ahead of you, Claudia." Another hateful glare coupled with a sniff before Old Creepy turned to stomp out of the room, her remora following behind. As the doors slammed shut with a bang at their departure, Momoka alternated between looking at the departing trio and me, before she turned to look at Dad.
"Go ahead, Momoka. I will take care of things here."
Another warm smile from the maid at both Dad and myself before she hurried out of the room, calling for my half-sister. The awkward silence now that I was alone with my too young father was seriously uncomfortable, especially since my body was reacting all weird like. Cheeks burning, I looked away from Dad while scanning the room for his shirt before finding it lying on the bed frame. I grabbed the article of clothing and hurled it wordlessly at my father, while taking the opportunity to think of other things than how good the young Danny Hebert looks and the way his pecs…
Okay, stopping there right now.
"Alright, Taylor. You can turn around now."
I turned around, to see Daniel "Tusk" Hebert, looking at me with warm eyes, wide open arms and a lopsided grin. I returned the warm vibes by walking over to him, hugging tightly my father who was dead for so many years. I pulled away from our embrace, and gave him a grin that saw his own becoming very nervous.
I head-butted him, sending him crashing to the floor. I looked over the groaning form of my father, hands on my hips. Still, my dad's a tough bastard considering he was sitting up right after a blow that laid low several guys much bigger than him.
"Why are the women in my life all so violent?" Despite the whining tone, I could see his lips curled into a smile as he looked up at me. I rolled my eyes even as I tried to keep the smile of my face and failed. Helping him up by his arms, we sat at one of the couches before I fixed him with a death glare.
"Talk." I growled at his questioning look. "Let's start with how long you've been dead for and why you didn't let me know you're alive again."
"About ten years, spent the past six months drifting in and out of medical comas and therapy." Dad really impressed me with how nonchalant he was discussing coming back from the dead here. "It was really touch and go."
Okay, now I feel like a heel for head butting Dad. Not his fault he's dead and only just brought back with super science. I will chalk this up on the list of things to blame Ange for.
I patted my suddenly respectable chest, my cheeks blushing furiously.
"Ok then. Now we can talk about how I ended up in frilly underwear I'd never look at, how you ended up shirtless in the same bed as your daughter and my boob job."
Dad's smile got a lot more uncomfortable as he started to scratch the back of his head, laughing nervously. One of the small actions I vaguely remember him doing when Mom was mad at him.
"Let's start with the second one. Ange helped remove your clothes and changed you into something she figured you'd like. She'd help Claudia, but her girlfriends and she were already having their…fun times so your mother let Hilda deal with them while she changed you."
I blinked at Dad's revelation that my mother actually helped me into my night clothes. Night clothes that didn't include some kind of hare brained training involving fighting even when you're asleep.
"Bullshit."
"Nope." My father rebutted with a smile. "Ange's as violent as can be. But she does care for you…in her own way."
Oh yeah, I'm very familiar with her special kind of affection alright. It involves field stripping a carbine and putting it back together twenty times after a five mile jog. And Lemon Chicken rations. Fuck lemon chicken rations and the sadist who came up with the idea with a bayonet.
"Ange changed you herself, and I think Momoka has a video of it somewhere."
I wound my fist back.
"You better not have seen that." I warned.
"No, of course not!" Nervous laughter from my dad again. I lowered my fist and pointed to my chest.
"The boob job and you sleeping shirtless in my bed?"
Dad's smile became more confident and natural as he pulled me in for a hug. I kinda enjoy having him stroke the back of my head.
"Your body's reacting to the ambient dragonium radiation. When you were first conceived, we had to retard your growth in some areas due to some medical issues you had. One of the many drawbacks of being a child of a Norma and Ancient Human I suppose."
I filed the two unfamiliar terms away for future reference.
"And the sleeping shirtless with your fifteen year old daughter?"
Another grin that's somehow ticking me off.
"Can't a father want to spend some quality time with his own girl after spending so many years dead?"
I punched him in the shoulder and spent a minute fuming.
"So you said you're an Ancient Human and Mom's a Norma. I heard Dr Maggie mention those terms when I met her yesterday, but what exactly do they mean?"
Dad's grin disappeared as his lips thinned.
"That, will be a rather long and violent tale."
Story of my life, hottie dad.
"You noticed the green light that Momoka was using for well, everything? Have you wondered why she never let it touch you or Claudia with it?"
"I'm all ears Dad." My father nodded and went over to my dresser, pulling out a remote control. I heard the curtains being closing, blocking out the light from the windows before a large flat screen monitor descended from the ceiling. The screen flickered to life, showing a vaguely Asian woman with long brown hair in a grey suit. She stood in front of a cyan globe set on a plain white background, a robotic smile etched on her face.
"Taylor, please say hello to the Disaster Relief AI Himawari." The simulated face of the programme gave me a wide smile, making me uneasy at how similar it looked compared to the canned pleasant expressions from service staff all over the world.
"Himawari, please display the records of World War Seven for Taylor."
/x/
I sat in stunned silence, looking at the ceiling while the curtains pulled apart, letting the late morning light flood in. My eyes idly roamed the large room, wandering at how it's unfair this single suite was larger than my entire house back in Brockton Bay. All this rambling thoughts, just to avoid facing what I've just learnt, thanks to a video and Dad's lecture.
"So the world ended in an apocalyptic war some five hundred sixty-eight years ago, and Mom's ride is one of those machines that ended it?" I asked rhetorically to Dad, more concerned at the lack of horror I felt Mom piloting a doomsday weapon.
"Pretty much. Also, the whole mess that's the Norma and the Mana people." My father looked me over, gauging my reaction to learning about how yet another world so advanced can't seem to get over the same issues that plagued Earth Bet.
Norma are violent, antisocial, irrational creatures. All female. Sounds like a bad sexist joke writ large made into official government policy. Until Mom came along and crashed the party anyways.
Was it bad that I found myself not caring that much? One group of bigoted assholes despite the blessings of a technology that would solve almost all the problems back on Earth Bet got what's coming at the hands of a violent underclass they created. Sounds like a karmic punishment to me.
"That Embryo guy sounds like a major creep." I finally said after thinking of how to break the silence. Dad's easy grin appeared, as he leaned forward and whispered in a low voice.
"You know what your mother said about him when he tried to rape her in his dimensional stronghold?" Dad looked around, as if wary of Mom popping out of nowhere. He should be more wary of Momoka though, sneaky as she is.
"That he doesn't know how to get it up or get the correct hole even when he got her naked and tied up. Because he's a sad, perverted, shut in dirty old man who lived for what's effectively a thousand years, yet was obsessed with an Ange that never was and was so mad another man got her virginity first."
I laughed, even if I felt kinda bad about it. But only Ange Missouri Hebert would make a joke about the time she nearly got raped.
"Would that be before or after you got a face full of my naked crotch when rescuing me, Danny?"
Oh hi, Mom. Only my mother and Momoka ever managed to get the drop on me, barring the time Sophia used a goddam tranquilizer dart on me. Mom was wearing a white flight suit that showed off her cleavage for some reason. My eyes were drawn to the cable with some kind of plug at the end, hanging off her hip like a tail, Mom pinched Dad on the cheeks, growling about inappropriate behaviour regarding teenage children. The irony of Ange Hebert disapproving of someone's parenting methods.
My mother gave me a bright smile in greeting, clearly feeling at home here on this rock before she turned her complete attention to Dad. Good for her, since I didn't really get a choice in this matter. She can play happy family with Ms Creepy all she wants.
I snuck towards my bed while my parents were having their lover's tiff, grabbing a fresh set of clothing laid out on the dresser that consist of the red and white uniform worn by Claudia, a pair of white knee length boots and more importantly, a holster with a pair of automatic pistols. I reached for the webbing, feeling the comforting weight of the guns and the four spare magazines full loaded in them. Pulling open one of the drawers, I grabbed seven fragmentation grenades that filled up my pouches on the webbing, and grabbed a combat knife that came with a sheath that fitted well on my belt. Next to my wallet that was had stacks of unknown currency stuffed in them was a plain envelope filled with more of these unfamiliar money and a gold ring with a brilliant green gem.
Waste not, want not. I grabbed the money and stuffed the envelope into my jacket and slid the ring onto my right hand's ring finger.
I snuck a peak at my still bickering parents, who were now seated on the sofa with Mom straddling my father. I gagged at the public display of lovey dovey by my parents before I left the room, keeping to the walls to avoid drawing attention. I went over the SERE training in my head that Mom made me undergo as I made my way out of the mansion.
If I'm to escape, I will need to get familiar with this place after all.
/x/
In the late morning light, Arzenal regains a foreboding atmosphere that makes you tether on the edge. After taking the elevator down to the bottom floor, I found myself lost in a crowd of unfamiliar faces, dressed mostly in Arzenal colours. No one really paid attention to me now that I was wearing their uniform, barring a curious glance or two from the guards in their green uniforms, vests and those nasty shock batons. I even managed to learn the differing ranks among those wearing the red uniforms. The gold diamonds sewn onto their backs signify their rank. The younger lower ranked ones have a basic design, while the older women and presumably officers have extra points on the diamonds, going up to a maximum of four extra points, forming an eight pointed star-diamond hybrid symbol. Of course, Mom's girlfriend Hilda had a basic diamond design on her jacket, but it was a brighter shade of gold compared to the others I've seen so far. Special status perhaps?
Wearing the basic dull diamond on my jacket allowed me to play the role of a dumb recruit to the hilt, as I gave a practiced blank look and stammering nervousness when some of the guards and older women asked which squadron I belonged to. A couple of the more nosey ones even told me to go to the second floor for processing or to find my mother, since fresh Norma from outside Arzenal gathered there. I gave a goofy smile and snapped a properly stiff salute, which usually satisfied the nosey parkers who would then tell me to run along while they attended to other business.
Apparently, I was in luck. There was something important going on, so the older Norma were not able to properly supervise a stray teen like myself. The other would be there were other sources of Norma other than Arzenal. Of course, the former was far more important to me. I reached for my guns, patting them to feel the reassuring weight before I continued to the fourth floor, where the main hangar and runway was located. I casually mingled among the gathered girls wearing red like me, giving pleasantries to a few of them to keep up the masquerade by using their names I caught from glimpses of their conversations. One thing that stood out for me was that despite the military chic Arzenal was going for, none of the girls used a recognisable last name. Very unusual for an aspiring military.
I inched forward towards the hangars, where several Norma dressed in orange overalls and white helmets were running around doing checks on several craft that resembled a hybrid of VTOL gunships and transports. The belly of the craft opened, and streams of dishevelled people in tattered civilian clothes trudged out onto the tarmac, where the guards began to separate them for processing.
"Why are there refugees here?" I muttered to myself while eyeing the awaiting transports, their engines still running. I scanned the guards that were divided between sorting out the refugees and guarding the craft, but found no opening for me to slip in. In any case, those plane like fighters in some of the hangars nearby appeared sleeker and faster, bristling with guns and possible rockets if those tubes sticking by the sides were any indication. No way in hell would I be able bust out successfully on those slow looking gunships.
I winced when I felt someone land a hand onto my right shoulder, angry at myself for failing to notice someone approaching me. I slowly got up from my crouching positon I was observing the refugees from, my hands up to show I was unarmed. I turned around to face whoever got the drop on me, and thanked my lucky stars it wasn't a familiar face. The woman who caught me was a taller, lanky but well-built woman probably in her mid-twenties. Dark hair tied in a bun that was almost a shade of purple, sharp eyes with irises the same colour as her hair and a pair of red rimmed glasses. She stood in an easy stance, almost slouching to the side with a lazy smile on her face. I looked at the six pointed star on her chest, and started on my startled, nervous recruit act.
"Sorry Ma'am! I was just looking at the refugees to see if any of my relatives were among them!" I quivered my lips as I finished my sentence, making sure to let my tears pool up for maximum effect. It seemed to work, since Glasses Officer's expression turned from grinning smugness to earnest sympathy. Thank you Mom, for the acting classes you insisted I attended!
"No harm done, Cadet. Name's Medea, daughter of Salia of Mykonos Settlement." She grinned, before pulling down my arm which was still held in a stiff salute. "What's your name?"
"Hebert, Taylor Hebert Ma'am!" I didn't hide my grimace as I realised I just gave out my real name to someone who might just have me locked up and thrown into a cell, but thankfully my name didn't seem to trigger any form of recognition with this Medea. The dark haired Norma rubbed her chin, alternating glances between me and the gathered and growing refugee crowd as more transports landed and disgorged more people. As the guards moved to separate some of the girls and younger women from their families, which consisted solely of the elderly and some adult women, several shouting matches broke out. One of the refugee women was pushed to the floor, prompting her daughter who was barely eight years old to rush out from the separated children and attempt to cover the woman from the guard. I felt my rage rising at this display of brutality and almost jumped in, before I found myself being held back.
"Don't be so eager to play hero, Taylor."
"The name's Hebert." I hissed out while shaking off her hand. Medea frowned at my aggression, but merely shrugged and gave one of those all-knowing grins which I started to hate.
"Whoa there, Ms Edgy. No need to curse yourself by using your last name. Weren't you briefed on the taboo on using last names for us Norma?"
"Name's Hebert." I repeated as I started to stalk towards those little fascist goons before cheesy carnival music started blaring out. I stopped at the unexpected soundtrack being played, watching in wonder as three costumed mascots approached the gathered refugees and guards. Three large teddy bears that looked like riot of green, orange and purple stitched together haphazardly with the stitching still plainly visible and a large pink tongue sticking out. The one in the middle saw the looming Norma guard standing over the fallen mother and rushed over, knocking the guard over with a single kick to the knees. The other mascots followed behind, grabbing the dazed guard by the arms and dragging her towards the side where one of the more senior guard commanders had rushed out on hearing the commotion.
The first mascot looked at the offending guard being taken in, satisfaction apparent in her pose before she knelt down to pat the head of the sobbing refugee child.
"Don't worry about that meanie guard, little girl! Perolina won't let anyone harm the little children!" The whimpering child looked up at the mascot that rescued her with a comical display of martial prowess, wonderment in her eyes. Children apparently aren't too picky that their hero looks like the result of an explosion at the paint and garment factory.
"You promise, Ms Perolina?" The mascot nodded vigorously, the shaking head making some of the gathered children squeal in delight. Perolina stuck out her right paw towards the sobbing child, making me wonder why the kid wasn't crying in fear from that hideous bear visage bearing down on her. Children have weird tastes.
"Pinkie swear!" The girl giggled in delight as she attempted to hook the finger of a stuffed costume bear, while I stood confounded as I finally linked the falsetto voice to a name.
"Claudia's willing to go out dressed like that?" I muttered under my breath as I felt my worldview shatter at the sight of Ms Creepy gleefully playing with a powerless refugee girl while being swarmed by the kids. Guess she has some redeeming qualities after all, though it still doesn't change the fact she's a creepy, shameless libertine who's into lesbian orgies and obsessed with her mother. I quickly walked away from this surreal sight, just in case the head on one of those costumes popped out to reveal Mom playing along with the children. One worldview shattering is enough for the morning, thank you very much.
"Hey Taylor, wait up!"
I turned around as I cleared the hangar into one of the many corridors, looking intently at Medea as the older Norma ran up to me.
"I thought you're looking for your family?" She gave me a curious look, scanning me from head to toe as my hands reached for my holstered weapons. Medea's eyebrows raised at my action, but remained silent as she continued to study me before fixing me a glare.
"You're planning to bust out, aren't you?"
I pointed one of my guns at her face, daring her to do something. Funny, I expected more fear of impending death from her.
"Not going to shoot, Taylor?"
"Don't tempt me." I grit out. "No one will ever find your body if it goes into the shoreline here."
"Touché. But listen to me. Those transports you see there? They're capable of going far distances, but unless you know where the hell you're going, you'd just crash into the sea, assuming the Paramail patrols don't disable your engines and haul you back. The Mails themselves probably can get you really far if you get the newer long range models, or even a Ragnamail. But what's waiting for you back wherever you came from."
"Nothing." I spat out. "The weather's awful most of the year. School's hell and I've probably burnt my chance of a proper future with my history of violence. The people there can't give a rat's ass about me with only one strung out old friend of my father who's fucking terrified of my crazy mom who sort of cares about me. Maybe."
"So why do you want to go back there?" A good question from Medea.
I undid the safety on the pistol.
"Because my mother didn't give me a goddam choice when she dragged me here, I played along because I wanted to see what the hell she's been up to, and now I decided that it really has got nothing to do with me." I kept my gun trained on Medea even as I looked around for any approaching threats, dismissing the still fresh images of the huddled, terrified masses I've seen being taken in by the Norma.
"Honestly, I don't even think I want to go back to Earth Bet. More probably that I'd end up doing some kind of work here on this weird, fucked up world. At least I made the choice this time around."
Despite the loaded weapon I had pointed at her, Medea appeared unconcerned.
"Commander Ange was correct. You really are headstrong as she is. Captain Naomi and I are going to have so much fun with you and Claudia."
So fucking tempting to cap her. She knew all along!
"I prefer the term stubborn bitch."
Medea shrugged, apparently unconcerned at the high velocity lead poisoning that was imminent in her future.
"In two weeks, we have an expedition back to Earth Mana where we'd be patrolling allied settlements and doing search and extraction missions on suspected Normas in the Junkie lands. During that time, you can join us on the mission, piss off back to Bet or go somewhere here on Earth Aura. Choice is yours. Only condition is that you learn to pilot a Mail by then."
No freebies huh? Not even a ride home or elsewhere from this bunch of stingy cunts.
I glowered at the retreating form of Medea, turning her back to me who's pointing a gun at her. I slid my trigger finger into the trigger guard.
"Looking forward to see you at the simulators or even the Mail training grounds, Taylor."
I barely began to squeeze the trigger before a large pink tail slapped my hands, sending the rounds I've fired straight into the armoured walkway of the corridor, dully noting that the bullets all flattened against the metal plates instead of ricocheting.
Good to see that safety is of paramount concern here. Not. A dozen or so of the guards had by now appeared on both sides of the corridor, attracted by the sounds of gunfire with their shock batons and energy shields ready. I considered using my grenades to clear the path before Medea laid a hand on the guard commander's shoulder before she gave the order to subdue me. I cast a wary look at the pink tail and leathery wings she was now sporting, glaring into her now reptilian eyes. Goddam DRAGON.
"It's fine. Just a young girl going over her many, many issues with firearms and attempted violence." I bristled at the sideway glance she gave me, reaching for my still fully loaded spare gun before several rifles aimed by the guards in my direction convinced me otherwise.
"Girl's a Norma through and through."
Piss off Medea! Once I get into one of those giant robots, you're the first one I'm stomping into paste. Maybe I will wear your wings on my figurehead.
/x/
Zhao Mei is a fine mechanic. As a matter of fact, she was the finest goddam mechanic there was that's still alive, especially when it comes to the Mails. Only that DRAGON scientist Kaliya who built the DRAGON Ragnamails had more knowledge on Ragnamails and Mails in general, but she underwent a fancy education. Mei had to learn everything from her deceased sister and later by herself. To challenge herself, Mei routinely took apart and rebuilt Paramail parts blindfolded, just so she could get used to maintaining them in the dark.
This meant the pint sized Norma mechanic was seriously annoyed when one of the younger mechanics ran to her in a panic, babbling something about the Pegasus Ragnamail they were assembling based on the salvaged parts and blueprints of the Hysterica.
"The assembled parts have started to assemble themselves and the head is glowing!"
Ling, the mechanic who ran to her was a good kid. Hardworking and smart, but her old injuries and trauma at the hands of the Junkies back on the Mana Earth had left her with an addiction to painkillers. She was eccentric, and had last tried to install five positron cannons into a single Paramail frame, resulting in the whole machine tipping over and ending up in the ocean.
"I swear Ling. One of these days, you're going to uncover the running engine of an active Paramail and be vaporised by two million Kelvin's worth of dragonium energy because you're high on medication."
Mei entered the sealed hangar at the rear end of the reclaimed Arzenal Island, far from the main fortress Arzenal. The mechanical prodigy found herself trying to snap her jaw shut when she saw the disassembled parts of the Pegasus prototype Ragnamail strain against the chains used to restrain them, the torso and head of the machine glowing a brilliant gold.
"Someone inform the Commander. Pegasus may have just found her new mistress."
A/N: So Taylor gets a first-hand experience of waking up next to a handsome, mysterious half naked guy in Hotel Sunrise!
Next up! Someone drops into a cockpit- or maybe not.
