Section Thirteen
Chapter Nine: Day Off
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Infirmary – 1000 Hours
Anton awoke to an odd sensation, or more specifically, the absence of it. It may have only been an hour or so, but when you got right down to it he really wasn't used to feeling pain. For it to just vanish after feeling so much was strange. Blinking in the bright light above, he was bemused for a moment.
"You know, usually the sleeping one in the stories is a girl." called a calm voice from off to the side.
Still a bit asleep, he looked there to see Dr. Marion half-looking back, half-reading a novel in one hand. The other held a clipboard, which she consulted with a clinical eye. "Well, either way, it's nice to see you back with the living. Probably for the best you woke up now, too; Alyssa was talking about drawing on your face if you didn't get up soon."
"That…sounds a lot like her."
Marion nodded. "Odd, though: I don't recall her ever threatening to do something like that when the others were injured."
Anton blinked. "What do you-"
"Oh, nothing." She set the clipboard down on her desk. "I patched up your shoulder – nothing serious there once the shock wore off – but I'd strongly advise you not to exert your linker core like that for at least a week or two. That's why you were out for so long."
The young man nodded slowly. "Right. That kind of thing probably isn't for C-Rankers…"
She gave him a raised eyebrow over the book's cover. "You save someone's life by yourself, and then you start feeling sorry afterward?" The Doctor waved a hand toward the door. "Well, I don't think either of us is in the mood for psychology. You're free to go."
Anton nodded. "Alright." He got up, carrying his shoulder gingerly (even if it didn't matter) as he rose. Akashic was on the bed side table, and he picked her up on the way. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Don't need 'em. It's what I'm here for, right."
He smiled as he left. Sensing it was fine now, Akashic spoke up. "Young Master, are you well?"
"Yeah, thanks to Doctor Marion. What about you, Akashic?"
"All of my systems function normally."
Her owner let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. So, did anything come-"
His stomach rumbled.
Following a brief pause, Akashic spoke seriously. "Young Master, report to cafeteria immediately."
"B-but-"
"Immediately."
"Alright…"
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Cafeteria – 1003 Hours
Any army ran on its stomach, and although the Bureau was a different one than usual the saying still ran true. Every one of the new sections' lunch rooms were modeled after the original one in Section Six's headquarters – large, well-staffed, and fit to serve all of the building's inhabitants both thoroughly and well. This wasn't the first time Anton had entered it, but he still had to be impressed with it. As he moved through the line of late-comers, he noticed most of Fire Squad sitting at a table near the window. He walked over.
"Hey, if it isn't my knight in shining armor." Alyssa said with a grin, reaching across the table to pat him on the back as he sat down. "Or maybe princess, with how long you were asleep." Her grin widened as his blush did.
Ace looked up from the pile of food he was working on, and nodded. "That's true; you almost slept as long as Alyssa usually does." He paused. "Actually, for some reason she only got up a few hours after I did. I'm not sure why-"
"W-well, who the hell cares when we all woke up, anyway?" the red-head said hurriedly. "Not like it matters; today's a day off."
"Oh. I didn't notice."
"Statement: it is largely irrelevant to my plans as well. This day was not scheduled previously, so I surmise it is to allow both squads a rest period." GD wasn't eating, and in fact wasn't looking at any one of them when he said this. Instead an open window nearby held his attention. It displayed that day's newspaper. "Addition: for now, research and investigation will have to be done as to the exact nature of the Logia we encountered, where it originated from, and whether it can be linked back to Quattro Angelo. The latter of these seems unlikely, since it is now dust, but the Major intends to try."
Anton speared a bit of lettuce and munched on it, swallowing it before he spoke. "What does it say about last night?"
The robot scrolled through it briefly. "Highlight: several interest groups have somewhat objected to Section Thirteen's destruction of the artifact. Rafflesia Industries is currently meeting with authorities over what the Corporal and Lieutenant uncovered there. Lastly, some citizens are of the opinion that Captain Triad spoiled their evening."
"Screw 'em."
"Conclusion: as to our battle, however, there has been very little reporting, most likely due to many people being shifted out by the barrier."
Pausing with another morsel halfway to his mouth, Anton looked around the cafeteria. "So, where's Arturia? Off practicing-"
The door to the room opened with an ominous slam. "Alyssa Triad!"
He watched as his captain stared up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes. "What, am I a demon or something now?"
Striding up to the table with eyes full of anger, Arturia stopped to give Anton a quick bow. "Secretary, I am pleased to see you are well after last night."
Before he could utter a word of reply, she whirled on her (supposed) superior. "I would have words with you. Now."
"About what?" Alyssa said, leaning back and chewing. "Or just, y'know, words in general?"
Arturia stared. "I am not in the mood for your humor, Captain."
Anton looked between the two of them, beginning to regret where he'd chosen to sit down. But it wasn't like he could move now, could he? He sat further down, feeling the plastic of the chair in his back.
"Tell me," the knightess began, "why did you keep quiet about your siblings being in the city last night?"
With a clatter, Alyssa rose to her feet. "Where the hell did you hear that!?"
The lieutenant stared straight ahead despite the difference in height between the two. "From the Major. It took some convincing, however; no doubt because of you."
"Yeah, funny thing about my business: I usually try to keep it that way." came the reply, like a volcano about to erupt. "So why exactly do you think it's yours?"
But Arturia was not one to be cowed by something like this. She spoke back with that same tone, expression the picture of outrage. "Why?" A hand was waved at Anton and the fire mage. "You very nearly lose your life, and that of someone else fighting a selfish battle, and you ask what concern it is of mine? Are you that ignorant?"
The volcano began to bubble. "And what wouldn't have been selfish exactly, Miss Knight? I'll tell you right now: Glenn would have went through you like a paper bag."
"And you were so much better last night?"
I
Anton looked between the two, feeling like someone who'd blundered into a mine-field. "Uh-" Before the second word had passed through his lips, Ace motioned wildly, shaking his head. "You…probably don't want to do that, Anton. It's not a fight anyone can win."
"I didn't think they disliked each-other this much. How long do they usually go on for?" He wasn't really used to seeing arguments like this, the Langsleys far more preferring the opposite way of dealing with disputes. He'd been to more than a few holiday dinners where almost half the table wasn't talking to at least one other person there. It was much more civilized that way.
Ace thought about as he gulped down a hunk of chicken. "Hard to say. Either until their tempers wear off, or until Captain Stromhold loses hers. But she's out at the moment, I think, so we could be here a while. Right, GD?"
The gadget drone had actually been silent ever since Arturia stepped into the room, still looking intently at his newspaper. Furrowing his eyebrows, he reached over, tapping him with one hand. It went straight through, and the image fizzled out.
"…" Anton stared. "B-but, how did-"
"Impressive. That's why he's the Sergeant, you know."
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen CO Office – 1006 Hours
"You know, I'm pretty much the farthest thing from a doctor, but I probably wouldn't pick at that if I were you."
Dwight lowered his hand, grumbling. "Tell it to stop itching, then." The sniper wasn't talking about any wound – the hit that guy had given him would do a lot more than itch the morning after – but the treatment Marion had given him for his head injury. At least it didn't smell. "What'd you call me here for, Major? Is it about my report?"
Destin nodded slowly. "Bulls-eye, Dwight. But it's not about the Logia." He typed into his keyboard, opening a file on his desk's computer. "I sent that description of your buddy over to HQ, and it matched up with exactly who I thought it would. So in other words, the worst case scenario."
"That bad, eh?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Here, take a look." He turned the monitor to let Dwight take a look.
As he did so, the lieutenant's expression darkened. If there were any doubts about whether his acquaintance was a big name or not, this article shot, detonated, and then burned them just to be sure.
Sniping. Bombings. Up-close attacks with countless methods and weapons; stabbing and strangulation seemed to be favorites. The incidents stretched off below the monitor, and he scrolled down with grim fascination. They were listed out over years, ranging from as frequent as several a month to one after two seasons of hiding. One thing was constant, though: every single one of those murdered were connected to the Bureau in some way.
Sitting back, Dwight let out a whistle. "Who the hell is this guy?"
"Might not even be a guy," Destin said, shrugging, "PC era and all. Might not even be human with what we have to go on. I'm surprised we even have a description to go on. Almost everyone who's seen him up close is six feet under right now."
"But not me, and I'm a Bureau agent. Probably because I wasn't on the list, if I had to guess."
The Major nodded. "Figured you'd notice that. We have a few theories on what the deal there is, actually. One, that they have a grudge against the Bureau."
Dwight frowned. "Doesn't exactly narrow it down."
"Neither does number two: that they're working for someone with a grudge. And then there's the third one…" He paused, pursing his lips and drumming on the wood for a moment. At last he sighed. "That they're working for someone in the Bureau."
The frown deepened.
Destin offered another hapless shrug. "Those investigations that started a few years ago got some results: raids, arrests – even if it wasn't really clear what we were arresting them for – and interrogations. But as much as we cleaned up under the rug, there's still a lot of dirt under there." He pointed to one part of the article. "See there? There was a sudden spike of attacks right when they began. If you ask me, number three's the right answer."
"So what you're saying is," the terran murmured, folding his arms, "a person famous for killing Bureau members is now in our neck of the woods. Along with, maybe, the person pulling their strings."
"About the long and short of it, yeah."
Dwight went back to scratching his head; the itching had gotten worse. "You know, we have a saying on Earth about the number thirteen, and it seems kind of appropriate here now…when are you gonna tell everyone?"
For a moment his CO tried his best to look everywhere but at him. "Honestly? I'm not sure. We have less than nothing to go on here, and news like this could do more harm than good with some of the officers. Looking for evidence your own team is attacking you leads to jumping at shadows sooner or later. And you're the coolest head here that isn't made of metal."
"I appreciate that, sir," Dwight replied, "but are we just going to sit on our hands, then? These guys have part of that bomb; even a fraction of it could level a block if they got it working."
Destin reached up and toyed with his sunglasses a bit. "That's definitely something to be worried about. Whoever this group is, they'll definitely try to use it against us sooner or later." Swiveling the leather chair around, he gestured out the window. "But look out there. Whatever these kinds of people are – and they're a lot – I doubt they're in it to knock those buildings down."
Absent-mindedly, he turned the monitor back around. "I'll make some more inquiries, maybe see if I can request a scan of the whole planet. They have to be hiding somewhere, right? Why don't you go see what you can dig up on Quattro? Those guys from last night are still down in the lock-up."
The sniper's hands squeezed tight as a long second or so passed, and then he sighed. "Okay, I'll get right on that. Forgot my job for a second, I guess. Sorry sir." Getting up, he made to leave. He stopped halfway, looking back. "So, what's with the name of that article? A little on the nose there, isn't it?"
Destin blinked, then looked back to the computer. "Oh, that. Just a little nickname HQ gave him, for convenience's sake. Probably gets an F for imagination, but what else are we supposed to call the guy, really, right?"
"Well, now I have a name that's not 'hey, you', or something way worse. Next time we meet I'm not going to just roll over, list or no list."
His boss tactfully didn't mention that quite a few of those names had probably said something like that, too, and saw him off with a wave. Leaning back in the chair, the Major stretched for maybe a bit too long, and then finally turned toward other work. But no matter how he directed his attention, his eyes were drawn to the name of the article, and even after being closed it rose up in his mind, like an omen:
RED SHOULDER
Not long afterward Anton entered, a stack of papers in his hands, and Destin pointedly didn't look up as they were placed on the desk before him. Anton stood there a minute, staring, before making for the door.
Major Destin spoke without looking up. "If you want to ask me why I told Arturia, then go right ahead. I'm not gonna bite your head off."
Anton turned back around, wondering whether or not to ask how he'd known. "…then again, with me is it really that impressive?"
He cleared his throat carefully. "I was actually, sir. It seems like it, um-"
"Caused a complete cluster…argument?" Destin finished lamely. "Yeah it did. But that would have happened anyway, honestly. And look at it this way: imagine if she, and everyone else, had found out a lot later. Maybe after you didn't just 'almost' yourself killed out there. What do you think would happen then?" He watched Anton stiffen up at the thought. "Maybe – definitely I'll get chewed out for it today, but if it helps someone out, then I'm fine with it."
The rookie practically bowed to him. "I-I'm sorry, Major! I wasn't thinking at all about that."
Destin stared at the back of his head. The kid could have used a bit of a trim there if you asked him, but he didn't say anything. "…could that apology come in the form of a coffee?"
That made Anton bow a little more.
0
Planet Gardius – Local Police Station – 1020 Hours
Right as Dwight opened the fortified door to the building, he could tell coming down here wasn't going to make his day much better. Then again, it wasn't like that was in much doubt before.
At the front desk, almost talking loud enough to be heard from the cell, was a short, bespectacled fellow in a drab-looking suit. The subject (or if you preferred, victim) was speaking to an older, grizzled looking man dressed in the Sergeant's variety of the usual Midchildan police uniform. Going by the expression on his face, he was wishing a smaller problem had walked into the door, like an armed gunman.
"-I'm really not sure exactly what you think I'll say to them," the former was saying as Dwight walked up, "it's not like I can magic them out of these charges, can I?"
"Not in the conventional sense, no." the older man said, looking wearily up at the ceiling fan. "But I wouldn't be surprised." He looked over the suit's shoulder and smiled. "You can get your wish now though: morning, officer."
The pencil-pusher whirled around quick, looked at Dwight, and then sniffed to hide his relief. "Ah, Lieutenant. I was wondering when someone from Section Thirteen would come down to see the men they arrested."
Whatever he said, it was important not to give him any ammunition. "With everything that happened last night, it sort of fell by the way-side, sorry. And it's only fair to let them rest before an interrogation, right?"
"Quite." the smaller man said, frowning. "Regarding that, as you may have heard, Sergeant Taurus seems rather reluctant to let me see them without one of you being around. I wonder if you were aware of this?"
Dwight stared. Although the lawyer who handled all of Quattro's business, both legal and not-even-close, Jimmy Chiles was not a thoroughly bad man, if one you wouldn't really care to talk to. But if doing his job meant it was harder for Section Thirteen to do theirs, he didn't really mind. That particular question was probably one he shouldn't answer. He hadn't actually asked Taurus to do that, but that was the advantage of having a friend with some common sense…and knowing what brand of alcohol he preferred. "Well, you have to admit, they're charged with being involved in everything that happened last night – and that's an awful lot to answer for."
"Regardless, answering to any crime should be done in the presence of legal counsel." Jimmy smiled. "But I'm sure I don't have to say so to a member of the Bureau, do I?"
No, ammo, no ammo…breathing in quietly, he nodded back. "Right, of course."
0
Planet Gardius – Police Station Jail – 1022 Hours
"I ain't sayin' nothing."
"You just did." Dwight said, giving Nelson a brief look. He hadn't come here hoping for him to say anything in the first place: the guy wasn't exactly on his list of people who might know something. The four cronies were two to a cell, and the only ones currently enjoying the station's hospitality – must have been a slow day. "Alright, might as well get this over with."
He began to pace back and forth in front of the cells, applying his best Bad Cop voice. "Now, I think it's pretty obvious that Quattro threw all of you out to dry. You didn't come close to taking down a single one of us-"
One of the left cell's occupants let out a whine. "If she'd just gotten hit with those rockets, I'd have demolished-"
A short burst of energy seared over the speaker's head. "He wasn't talking to you, Crash. You're not demolishing a doll-house in here, so shut up already."
The gun-nut looked down and pouted, while Jimmy gave the Sergeant a curt frown, but said nothing. Riki, who was unlucky enough to share cells with Crash, raised his head to glare at Dwight. "Unless you can make yourself scarier than the Boss, Jacobs, you might as well walk right back out that door. Nobody here's dumb enough to cross him. Don't give us that witness protection crap, either; that doesn't matter at all with him."
"Yeah, and what makes you think we know anything, either?" Nelson scowled. "You just said we were a bunch of goons."
Jimmy cleared his throat quickly. "Well, I think that settles things. If you'll just-"
"Who said I was disputing that?" Dwight said, stepping closer. "That's pretty much what you've chosen to be. But I think you're also the kind of people who care enough about their skins to keep an ear open. You never know when something might come in handy out there, right?"
A moment passed, and Riki flipped him off. "Not. Worth it. Words aren't going to make me talk, Jacobs." He grinned. "Unless you want to try something better?"
"Oh, please." the sniper thought, eying Jimmy with one eye. But even so he'd be lying that some part of him hadn't gone yes at the idea…as much as that mattered. "Fine. But you know who to ask for if you ever figure out what's actually good for you."
He turned and strode off, but the thug's words followed him. "Don't have the guts, do you? That bitch from your team didn't, either."
Dwight stopped, squeezing his hands enough to show through the gloves. And then kept going, stepping harder now.
"Don't worry about it," Taurus said, "punks like that just don't know better, that's all."
"One of these days they will." the sniper muttered, punching his hand into one palm. "Once I show all of them that Barnes is just a bunch of talk and a big name."
Taurus nodded sagely. "Yeah, and that's the only reason, right?"
Turning, the earthling gave him a look. "Exactly."
0
Planet Gardius – Angelo Corporation Gym – 1024 Hours
With a cry muffled by burlap, a hapless young intern flew backward, landing hard on a thankfully matted floor. He let out a groan as Barnes caught the punching bag when it flew back toward him. Giving the human a look of sympathy, he sighed. "You might as well run along now. There are probably better things to do now, right?"
The intern nodded gratefully, and left the room rather quickly. He went past Katie, currently flopped across a couch in the gym's small rest area. Licking her thumb, she flipped to the next page of her magazine. "Are you almost done? I have some things I want to run by Mister Quattro, and your opinion of him matters too much to do it by myself."
"'For some reason', is what you were thinking, right?" Barnes gave the bag a trio of punches that almost sent it straight over the bar. "Well, it can wait. I doubt he'll be too interested in another one of your plan so soon after the last one blew up. Besides, he's been taking calls since almost before he woke up." A swift kick sent the target in a wide arc around to his side.
Licking her finger again, Katie jabbed it in that direction. A thin bolt of lightning sent the punching bag falling limply to the ground. "First of all, dear Barnes," she said sweetly, "my plan worked perfectly. Alyssa was immobilized, and the energy from her fighting powered up that statue even quicker. And by the time I joined this fine organization, Mister Quattro had already planned out how to use the statue – I merely filled in some of the particulars, such as with the other Logia." She added hurriedly, "Of course, he's hardly to blame either: he had no way of knowing how it would perform."
Barnes frowned as he walked over to the wall the weights were hung on. "It didn't beat the full squad, yeah. But there was someone there who shouldn't have been, wasn't-" He stopped, grunting slightly as a larger bolt burned a hole in the back of his suit.
Shrugging his shoulders as an itch ran through them, he turned to see Katie had stood up, glaring at him with sudden venom. "I take it that's the lizard talking? Why don't you go straight for the throat: you think that weakling bea – tricking me is my fault? Do you?"
At her anger-filled words, the mana link the two shared twanged up and down like a loose guitar string. She probably didn't feel a thing, but Barnes held back a wince. "What exactly would be so wrong about that?" he asked, eyes glinting behind the sunglasses. "Someone has to eventually; you're obviously never going to admit it yourself."
Katie narrowed her eyes, squeezing her hands hard. They dropped near her belt, where Coltello was kept clipped. Sparks began to crackle in the air.
Then Barnes did what the Lightning Triad had made more than a few people regret deeply: turned his back on her. Picking up a few of the weights, he tested them in his hands. Not to his surprise, whoever made the weights hadn't intended them for a familiar's use, and all but the heaviest weighed next to nothing in his hands. Behind him, his mage continued to fume, until he spoke again.
"You're frustrated, right?" the hybrid murmured, not looking around. "I know I'd be, and have been. But what is getting mad about it going to do? When something I do doesn't work out for whatever reason…" Finally he picked up the largest weight, hefting it and nodded. "…I make sure it won't come up again."
"So what does that mean for me?" Katie asked. "Not to be a fool?"
Barnes shrugged as he selected another large weight, walking over to a machine meant for training legs. "I don't know; psychology isn't one of my many talents. And I've never been too into introspection – you should come up with that answer yourself." He looked back. "But Quattro didn't hire you for sitting around and moping, I'd remind."
Staring at his back, the scheming mage was silent for a moment, and then left the room quickly.
0
Planet Gardius – Street Outside Police Station – 1025 Hours
After asking how Taurus had been, Dwight left as politely as he could. Walking down the stairs in a huff, he was surprised to look up at the smell of smoke and see Jeanne standing at his car.
"You look like what I usually see in the mirror at about six." she commented, sipping at a cup of coffee at the same time, somehow. "I take it the visit didn't pan out."
The sniper nodded unhappily. "Too scared. Too stupid, too, if you ask me."
"I know that feeling." His captain held a stack of papers in her other hand, and she passed them over. "I've been taking the more direct route, myself. Went down to Rafflesia Industries' building after breakfast." She blew some smoke into the air above. "They've practically been shaking everyone involved with the construction around by their legs trying to find out who made that little 'addition'. Their own team did the job, apparently, and most of them were living here locally. I went by the addresses of the no shows, but-"
Dwight frowned. "Gone?"
Jeanne nodded back. "To the last man. I guess all of them must have gotten pressing business just yesterday. And it was so urgent most of them didn't really have time to pack: I let myself in." She gestured to the files. "They were smart enough not to leave anything about the building job there, but I did find one very interesting file recurring on a fewl of their computers: a record of a job done a few weeks ago, on a small moon a ways away from Gardius. It was a small digging operation, and they weren't told who the client was, and to keep their mouths shut afterward."
"So," her lieutenant nodded, "probably where our stone buddy came from, then."
"Seems that way. I'll ask someone to investigate it when we send the report." She jabbed a finger at the car. "Speaking of, mind giving me a lift back to base?"
He'd figured that was why she was here. "Ever hear of this thing called Taxis?" he asked sardonically as they climbed in.
His captain gave him a wry look. "A TSAB captain using public transportation? That would look pretty bad, if you ask me."
"You know, of all my qualities I hoped would rub off on you, that wasn't really one that came to mind."
"That's a shame."
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Secretary's Office – 1025 Hours
Back in his 'office', Anton sat with his nose…well, not close to the grindstone, but to the papers on his desk. Most of the papers he'd received were things the Major probably could have done himself if he'd felt like sparing a minute or two. But he was probably busy with other important work. Like not signing papers. He wouldn't have minded so much, except that there was really nothing to sink his teeth into. "Something like a report, or a census – anything I can sink my brain into for a while instead of just wearing out my wrist." The only interesting thing that had happened for a while had been Alyssa airing her displeasure to the CO next door. That had been…interesting. And he'd learned a few new vocabulary words, which he could never use in front of anyone, ever.
Unbeknownst to Anton, he was about to get just such a piece of paper. Just not in the way he was expecting. Putting the supply request he had just signed carefully in the 'out' pile, he picked up the next document. Or as the case was, envelope. Picking it up, he saw the letter was addressed to him. "I suppose it got mixed in with this somehow." And if not, he'd be more than a bit annoyed; what if it was something urgent?
He didn't even have to glance at the sender's address to know where it was from – only one place would send him written mail. Carefully opening it, Anton saw who it was from specifically. He frowned as the name leaped out at him, and it only got worse as the young man read what they had to say. His hands gripped the paper tighter, and his eyes narrowed tightly. Nearby, Akashic glowed worriedly: she'd seen her master like this once or twice before, and it hadn't ended well.
Finishing the letter, Anton placed it down on the table, carefully. Then, just as carefully, he slammed his hand there, too; a few papers from the 'in' stack blew off and landed on the floor, but he didn't seem to notice. Snatching up the offending stationary, Anton crushed it into a ball, threw it into the air and pointed. One half-second later, white confetti was raining down over the office.
Not a second or so after that, he swayed, grabbing onto the desk for support as a sudden wheezing filled the room. The secretary groped for his inhaler, and a quick breeze blew it into his hand. He breathed in deeply. "Tha…thanks, Akashic."
"You must avoid stress in the workplace, Young Master." the book murmured, as useless a piece of advice that admittedly was.
"Of course, you're right." Anton sighed, standing up straight. "I just..." He shook his head, sat back down, and resumed work. "It's nothing."
"What-"
"Nothing."
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Training Grounds – 1030 Hours
"Come on, Ace, can't you go any quicker than that!?"
The strike artist leaped to one side as a set of fireballs whizzed past him. He glanced up, looking a tad hurt. "I'm moving as fast as I can, Alyssa, unless you want me to learn to fly right now?"
Alyssa frowned at the remark (although knowing Ace, it could have been completely sincere), but then sighed and lowered her weapon. "Yeah, I guess; sorry."
Ace kept down a sigh of relief. He glanced over at GD sitting by the side-lines, scorch marks marring his shell. After the argument had finally petered out, both officers assumed that was it, but unfortunately had then gotten roped into helping their captain burn off her stress down here. GD had gone first, deploying some holograms. After a few minutes with that puzzle, the Captain came up with a solution: blast all the images at once. From there he and Ace had taken turns. It wasn't like she could outlast both of them even if she was angry, right?
But even so, the pair was relieved to see Alyssa glance up as a message window opened nearby. "Hey, uh, you busy Alyssa?" Major Destin asked innocently.
The Fire Triad turned, mood changing as suddenly as a storm-cloud over a picnic. "Oh, depends. If it's anything you want me for, then-"
"Oh, not me, not me," he said hurriedly, waving his hands, "where would I get off, telling people to do things, right? No, it's about Anton."
Alyssa blinked. "Anton?" She frowned. "He's not hurt again is he?"
"Doesn't seem like it, or at least, not physically. He came in here a minute or two ago to drop things off, get my signature on some papers. Deathly quiet, barely said a word to me. Something must have happened, and, well, he's in your squad…"
The woman officer nodded. "Yeah, I'll go talk to him. Probably better that way: if you do it, no telling who will find out."
Destin winced.
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Dormitory, Arturia's Room – 1031 Hours
"-thus, finally defeating the creature. I regret to say there is no physical evidence of the Logia remaining, but I assure you, my squad-mates will not forget anytime soon."
The graying, bearded gentlemen on the other side of the window nodded approvingly. "Quite impressive, Arturia. I see now that your choice of assignment was far from a hasty one." Gripping a cross pinned to his uniform, he nodded. "I hope you will excuse me."
From where she knelt, Arturia shook her head. "No, you were only thinking about what was best for me and our House, sir. I hope that to merely be the first of such accomplishments while I am here." No-one watching would have dared accuse her of dishonesty; the earnestness in the knight's features left no room for doubt.
"I certainly hope so. This is far from a meaningless task you have undertaken, I'm sure you understand." His stern features softened somewhat. "I regret that-"
"No." the Saint Church disciple stood, features turning more resolute. "There can be no regrets if I am to accomplish our goal, sir…Father. For the sake of our House, and our ancestors, I can hold no doubts in my heart. Glory will never be obtained by those we cannot decide if they deserve it."
A smile cracked through the man's rocky visage. "I see you have been reading in your spare time. Well, I will not detain you any further; I am sure there are more important duties present. I will chronicle your tale immediately. And I will tell your mother, as well."
Something far less firm came to Arturia's eyes then. "Yes…thank you, Father." She saluted, and it was returned in kind. Without any further civilities, the transmission was cut.
The knightess stood there for a moment at attention, feeling the quiet dignity of her duty. "I will make you proud Father, and prove my worth to the other knights. This, I swear."
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Library – 1031 Hours
Captain Stromhold was far from the only person doing research on last night today – but he would have definitely preferred talking about it to someone he didn't harbor a desire to punch in the face, jump up and down on the body of, and bury fifty feet underground. At least, professionally. Leaning back, Daniel kept one eye on him, the other on the hot-pot simmering nearby. Mmmm, boiled cabbage.
"So, Sammy, what did-"
The gentleman – emphasis Daniel's, and in exactly the way you'd think – adjusted his glasses and gave him a stare probably reserved for the doorman. "Samuel, Daniel; is it terribly much to ask you to remember my name after the tenth time?"
He raised an eyebrow back. "So just deciding to after how many years I've known you wouldn't piss you off." The word wrinkled his associate's lips, he was pleased to note. "But I'd prefer if we skip the di – ploma waving this time, if you don't mind. This is important."
That was enough to get the fancy pants' attention. He and Samuel had known each-other for a while, and by now they had pretty much adapted to everything that made them want to strangle the other, even if it…did that. Sammy was the head, founder and funder of the Ancient Belka Preservation Society, and although they had a bad habit of producing idiots like the ding-bat he'd dealt with last night, they'd also done some good work, mostly because the people on top hadn't shown up last for brains. Slept in late for the humble pie, though.
"If you insist," Samuel said, shaking off his surprise within a moment, "but unfortunately, I'm afraid we didn't find anything in our records that matches your description. Logia or otherwise, nothing like that has ever been recorded. Furthermore it sounds nothing like what we know of Draconian culture. Wherever it came from, Planet Gardius seems unlikely."
Daniel nodded, frowning. He hadn't really expected much else, but did it really matter when what was left of the thing was lining a gutter somewhere? "What about that chick who tried to knock my block off last night? You do much research into her?" Nearby, the pot chose that moment to steam. Leaning over, he grabbed up a spoon and stirred one-handed. "Not that I really think you're dumb enough to send someone like that to do it."
"I'd be insulted if you assumed we wouldn't contract it out. We are scholars, I'd remind you." Samuel fiddled with something on his end, and a TSAB profile filled the corner of the screen. "Miss Vito was with us until very recently, when we expelled her over a career choice deemed, well, unwise."
The archeologist stopped. "About what?" It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?
Samuel shrugged. "Some consultant work for a company, I believe. We take a dim view of using our talents for personal gain, as I'm sure you – oh, what am I saying – don't know."
Don't cut the feed, still need to get everything… "Do you remember their name?"
From the scholar's expression, the mere thought of that was offensive. "Why, I can't quite recall. Angel something, or along those lines at least. If you give me a moment I could possibly-"
"Nah, you got better things to do." Daniel said, and at that moment his cooking pot buzzed. "I'll see you later, Sammy."
"It's Samu-" he got out before the window vanished.
Hopping out of the chair, the librarian went to get a couple bowls. "So, I've got one piece of the puzzle. Mercedes was probably their consultant on that Logia. Maybe even told them how to activate it."
Sitting in the main area of the room of knowledge was Otavi, quietly reading a book on plants. She didn't reply.
He continued anyway. "I couldn't figure out where they dug up the thing, but hey, I can't do all the work, can I?"
When she did speak, he turned around so fast he almost smacked his head into the cupboard door. "From a place that should not have been disturbed." said the enigmatic girl, her eyes on a place far away from the library. She looked back to her book.
"…a lot of places are like that." Daniel replied vaguely, getting out two bowls. "Like your memories, maybe."
0
Planet Gardius – Secretary's Office – 1033 Hours
"Hey, Anton," Alyssa said, slamming the door to his room open wide, "Destin says you're in a crappy mood. How come?"
Anton looked up, staring as he lowered his pen. The T on the Major's name had turned into something that probably didn't count as a letter in modern society. "Um…w-what?"
She tapped her foot impatiently. "No 'what': you heard me. If something's bugging you, it's not going to go away by letting it stew. So c'mon, spill it."
He pursed his lips, remaining silent as he shrank a bit under her gaze. "Alright," he at last murmured quietly, "something did happen a little while ago, if you really want to know. My father sent me a letter."
"Oh."
A look of annoyance flashed across his face at her knowing one, but he continued. "In it he…well, I suppose I should tell you that not everyone in my family approved of what career I wanted. Most of them, actually, but he was the worst. It was mostly because of him that I took a desk job in the first place. It made him happy. I think."
Alyssa nodded. "So he was worried about you."
"No!" he cried, slamming his hands down on the desk. "He was just only-" Anton leaned back, and sighed. "I'm sorry. There's a lot more to it than that, Alyssa." Picking up Akashic, he opened the book in front of her, displaying an image of another young man, slightly older than him. His relation to Anton was obvious in a glance. "This is Edward, a cousin of mine. When I was growing up, he and his family were over at my house a lot. More than anything, he wanted to be an Enforcer when he joined the Bureau. I looked up to him a lot."
He slammed the tome shut, eyes distant. "Eventually, he did. It was easy for him; a lot of people called him a genius. And during his first major assignment, he and his entire team were found dead in their rooms. No-one knows why, least of all me. But my father thinks if I go down that path, the same thing will happen to me. I think you can imagine how he took me taking a position here." Anton's free hand clenched. "He…brought up Edward. That's what really made me mad."
A quiet moment passed in the small room, ended when Alyssa reached down and ruffled his hair. "That's some story you have there." She sighed. "I wasn't really expecting that…and I'm probably not the best person to talk to when it comes to big families or pressure like that or anything. But you decided to stay here because you wanted to, right?"
"…I suppose so. But my father."
"Screw him!" she said pleasantly. "If he's a real dad, he'll learn to deal with it sooner or later."
Anton winced. "It's more the in-between part that I'm worried about. I know he only wants me to be safe. It's just-"
Alyssa folded her arms, giving him a yard-long stare. "You're scared again?"
His lip quivered, and it looked like Anton might either bare his fangs or burst into tears. He settled for walking around the back of his desk and sitting down. "Yes, of course I am. I'm scared of him thinking I was a nuisance to the family. I'm scared of just fading into everyone else's shadow, like I'm not even there. And I'm scared of…of everyone forgetting about Edward. He wanted to do so much, and now even his own parents barely want to say his name, like it's a taboo." He shrugged pitifully. "So, yes, I'm scared of a lot of things. Sorry."
Taking the next document, he signed it absent-mindedly. Turn-about was fair play, Alyssa supposed – it was her turn to feel awkward as hell.
"Alright, maybe you have a point," she admitted, "I guess I'm not exactly a normal person, when you get down to it. But I wasn't thinking about that." Anton received a rueful smile. "Sorry."
"Oh no, I-"
Alyssa smacked herself in the forehead. "Damn, you can't even admit you were right when I just said so? Baby steps, I suppose." She waved as walked back for the door. "See you later, Anton."
At the last instant, though, she turned back. "All of them, and not one person knows why?"
Anton shrugged.
After she had left, and he was well and sure it would stay that way, he reached over to pick up Akashic once more. He flipped through the pages, going toward the very back. The pages there appeared to be blank-
"Anton Langsley."
-at first, anyway. When he spoke his name calmly and carefully, the pages glowed, words blinking into view. One thing was for sure, they definitely weren't the kind of thing an inspector or secretary would ordinarily have written down. Mostly it was names, or dates, but a few testimonials were there as well. Anton touched the first page with his index finger, and the information was projected up into a large holographic display, now with faces to match the names, and lines linking many pieces of information. Much of the text was gathered around several large images – the sight of the murder, his brother's assignment, and most of all, why.
Staring at the research, Anton spoke to his device, quietly. "And if I was really a coward, I wouldn't have written all of this down, would I?" He pursed his lips. "That wasn't…technically a lie, either." He looked toward the array's center-piece: a large question. "I still have no idea who really did it. Not yet.
0
Planet Gardius – Side Street – 1101 Hours
Ace preferred not to carry a watch, or anything else like that, even if he weren't the type that would break them on accident, but he would have checked it as he hurried down the sidewalk. It wouldn't have changed the fact he was late, but…well, there had to be some reason people wore them, or what was the point? Maybe it did something really subtle, and he just didn't notice.
But in any case, he was late to his appointment; he'd gotten too caught up training with Alyssa. To tell the truth, even if he hadn't known they were off today, he still would have gone off to his destination. It was definitely a little dishonest, and probably something that would get his ears talked off by Arturia and GD if they found out. But, well…they'd been so eager when they asked him to come back. Even if the others would disagree, he couldn't just say no. "Oh, but then they'd just say I was making excuses, wouldn't they?" He sighed, scratching at his forehead, wondering why he'd decided to worry about this now of all times. "I'm not that slow, am I?"
Fortunately none of that thinking got in the way of his body, as usual, and he had reached his destination only a bit late. It was a small building, dwarfed by two larger ones on either side, so that only those truly looking would find it. Ace liked that, even if he couldn't explain why. He approached the front door, only for his senses to shout out a warning. The strike artist smiled; that was one good thing about coming late at least. Carefully sliding the wooden door open, he stepped through, calling, "Hello!"
There were two attacks, each coming from either side of the door. Quickly moving into a crouch, Ace put up a shield of light static on the right to block a sweeping kick, using the momentum to flip the attacker over. At the same time he brought up his palm, blocking a strong punch that came from the opposite direction - not as strong as his counter-shove, though, which sent them reeling away. The end result was the former opponent landing gracefully, the latter…less so.
"Aw, maaaaaan!" he whined. "I really thought we had you that time!"
Ace smiled. "Well, you were close." He reached down and gave the eager boy a hand up. "I think it would have rung my bell a little, too."
"Hm." grunted his other attacker, a more serious-looking girl. "There's no need to flatter us needlessly, Mr. Spade. It's obvious we didn't stand a chance of touching you."
"Y-you don't have to say it like that, Sis!" the boy cried, pouting.
Suppressing a chuckle, Ace nodded to the two of them. "Ryu, Sakura, I hope your week was alright."
He then turned to the rest of the room – a long, spacious gym that made up most of the building. Two benches sat alongside a sparring area marked off with even lines. Sitting at one of them, a pot of tea next to him, was an older man, dressed in exactly the attire you'd think of for a dojo master. Ace strode up to him and bowed. "It's nice to see you too, Ma-STER!"
Ryu and Sakura both stared. After all that waiting, all it took to hit Ace was just suddenly chopping him across the eyes? As the corporal touched his forehead gingerly, wincing, the master took a sip of his tea, giving him a cold stare from underneath bushy eyebrows. "That's for keeping me up last night. Some people still need to get sleep, you know."
An apologetic look appeared on Ace's face, which faded (slightly) when he remembered exactly what his job was. "Well I'm sorry, Master, but it's not like we could just sit there-" he tried to duck another quick chop, and failed, "-and not do anything while the city was wrecked. If you could have done it quietly, maybe you should give us some advice?"
This got him another hard stare, but the Master sighed after a moment. He'd learned quick enough that Ace just didn't use sarcasm. "If you ask me, I could teach all of you more than that." Another sip. "But I have my hands full keeping a business here. It's bad enough that you keep coming here to butt in."
Ace just smiled, nodding. He'd grown himself a thick skin even before coming to Section Thirteen, and when talking with the Master, it was the best weapon you could have. The man wasn't a legendary trainer, but he was fine with becoming known as a merely very skilled one, a reputation which had gotten him several regulars at his dojo, Ryu and Sakura foremost among them. If there was a style of martial arts involving magic, he could probably teach it, if you could put up with his teaching methods. He really didn't mean what he said, though – mostly.
The young man had found the place about a week or so after joining Section Thirteen, and had more or less become an unofficial trainer here (Master had been quite clear on the 'un' part). He wasn't really sure if it was doing any good, but the kids seemed to be happy with it. Alyssa had said it was probably because they saw a kindred spirit, whatever that meant. He knew he liked coming here, and that was good enough for him.
"If you're taking a break, Master, I could-" Ace smiled as he waved dismissively. "Alright, then. Ryu, Sakura, are you ready to go?"
Brushing her ponytail aside, Sakura returned it wryly. "Sometimes you sound more eager than us about this, Mr. Spade."
"Aw, that just means he can tell skill when he sees it, Sis. Right, Ace?"
The corporal took a moment before he nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm honored to be able to spare with you two."
As the two appreciated the compliment (in their own way, of course), Ace moved over to the other side of the sparring area, taking a stance. "Alright, on my count. No starting early like last time, Ryu."
"Y-yeah, I remember what happened…"
As he counted, Ace thought about what she had just said. "Eager, eh?" He couldn't lie about that. Even just the word of an upcoming fight or spar was enough to make his whole body twinge in anticipation. And hadn't he come here after one to begin with? Could those parts of him be sneakier than he thought? Or maybe it was him who thought about it like that, sometimes. Or-
Abruptly, he became aware Ryu and Sakura were speaking to him, and had been for the last few moments. "Is something wrong, Mr. Spade? You're being awfully quiet today." The two were staring at him, worry in their eyes.
-maybe it didn't matter. He shook his head. "No, nothing." Ace raised his arm up. "That's five, and – GO!"
The fighters leapt.
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Labs – 1105 Hours
"And, that's about that. I pronounce you a clean bill of…well, general composition. You can get up now."
GD rose, stretched briefly to test his servos, and hopped down the floor, nodding politely. "Gratitude: thank you for the tune-up, Doctor. I apologize if I was rough on this body last night."
Forrester shook his head, giving a crooked smile. "Oh, not at all. Depending on what you subscribe to, all of us are using bodies made by someone else anyway. But if you really want to thank someone, you could try these two idiots. Praise is like a rubber bone for them."
"Ha ha, what a funny joke, Doctor Forrester sir!" Joel chirped.
"I may have to start using that myself, now!" Mike put in.
The gadget drone stared, then turned back to the scientist. "Query: I am told that you have been going over the data from last night, Doctor. May I see the results?"
Forrester tapped away at the keyboard in front of him. "By all means. Some of it's rather interesting, if I say so myself, and you're one of the only people here who understands what I'm talking about with any consistency." A picture of the gargoyle came up. "First of all, I went through the scans I got off the logia you all fought last night, and got…well, almost nothing, really. I'd need to examine it physically to get anything truly concrete out of it, and obviously that isn't going to happen."
He leaned back. "What I could tell was that it was very powerful, and had powers I've never seen come from any mage in all my years. But more importantly – and this is just a hunch, you understand – I don't believe it was designed to attack."
GD paused. The Good Doctor rarely ever spoke seriously for this long. "Observation: I believe many of the officers would disagree with that opinion, Doctor."
Forrester nodded. "Well yes, of course it could defend itself. You'd be a fool to design something that couldn't if it had an important duty."
"Correction: or, rather, one that could not defend its master."
"A good point." he nodded. "But I suppose it doesn't matter much now. Still, it gives me a funny feeling, like that twinge I sometimes get in my…" the scientist coughed, typing again. "Anyway, I think I'd be right if I guessed that's not what you were interested in." The logia disappeared, replaced by images of the new Nailheads from last night.
More images appeared, these ones of the officers, each next to one model in particular. "As I'm sure you can tell, all of these new units are based off one of the officers stationed here. The sniping model for Mr. Jacobs, the swordsman model for Miss – oh, excuse me, Lady Arturia. Now," he said, licking his lips briefly, "I will admit these are a better concept than most of Scaglietti's work, no offense, but they have their own problems."
A hand of gnarled fingers began to be ticked off. "Over-specialization, for one; the long-range units are doomed in close combat, and vice versa for the melee ones. Which means you'll have to deploy all of them in a battle to get maximum effectiveness. And when they're based on people who have files readily available to the ones you're trying to kill them with. Lastly, with the amount of coordination we've seen from them so far, I doubt any specialization could help matters."
"However…" One finger rose again. "Most of this could be solved with the introduction of one thing." It came down to tap a button, and in-between all of the models appeared another, shadowed one. "A commander unit. If you ask me, that's the logical conclusion to all this, and it could make dealing with these robots much more difficult."
GD nodded slowly. "Statement: I see. That is quite logical, Doctor. I have thought about that possibility myself; now that another has confirmed it, I will be on the look-out for this commander."
A slow smile spread across Forrester's features. "And prove to them you're the better machine, eh?"
The sergeant cocked his head to one side. "Statement: I am unsure what you are talking about, Doctor. I am merely curious about a fellow robot's capabilities. Meeting them in battle would merely the most efficient way of determining that."
"If you say so."
"Agreement: yes, I believe such a thing has transpired."
0
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Headquarters, CO's Office – 1137 hours
Destin leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling fan, swiveling slightly to peer out the window. Anywhere was a better view than the news he had just gotten. At least he hadn't eaten lunch yet.
After a minute or trying to put off the inevitable, the Major leaned forward, closely studying the report of death before him.
It had been a small group, five of them including their commander. They had been out on a scouting mission, looking into an anonymous tip relating to a big case. The information couldn't be traced back to any definite source, so they'd been told to be careful. By all accounts, they had been – just not quite enough. There were no signs of a struggle and the blast wounds were precise, meaning there had been an ambush. Or that someone hadn't been on the side they claimed.
Either way, lives had been taken, and all because one of them had thrown his lot in with the wrong team. "So that's how things are going to be now, is it?"
There was nothing worse than an enemy who truly believed what they were doing was right. And now it turned out they had a whole pack of them right by their doorstep. The Major felt a slight shiver go down his spine. A storm was coming, to excuse the cliché, and he had a feeling they were going to get pretty damn wet before it was over. "This was supposed to be a simple position…" he sighed. "But maybe I lost my right to any of those a while ago."
He wondered if his men would be prepared for something like this.
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Headquarters, Secretary's Office – 1141 Hours
Anton wondered exactly what life had been like on The Triad's ship. Probably a little awkward occasionally, since his captain evidently had the idea that knocking was something other people did.
"Hey Anton, catch." she said, smiling, before tossing a bulky helmet right at him. Gasping, he reached out, scrambling with his hands, and managed to get a hold of it before it ruined a few hours' worth of work.
"W-what are you doing, Alyssa!? You nearly gave me a-"
Ignoring him, she jabbed a thumb toward the doorway. "Come on, I'm taking you out to lunch."
A few questions arose in Anton's mind, all of them about why exactly she had to throw something at his head to do that, but that was probably a losing maneuver. Setting the helmet down on the floor carefully, he checked his watch. "It's not my break yet, though. Could you come back at twelve?"
Alyssa's face fell faster than a shot from Dwight. "…seriously, Anton?"
"Well, it's not my break. Sorry."
"Seriously?"
Anton frowned. "I'm not going to get up just because you're doing that. We can go when I'm done, alright?" His annoyance had one blessing, at least; otherwise he'd have realized just how easily he had agreed to go out with her.
Her face fell further – almost into a pout – and she dragged out the free chair to flounce down in, stretching out to stare at the wall. Anton sighed inwardly and returned to his work…only for the sound of her tapping a foot against the floor to intrude on his concentration. He resisted glancing up, and it stopped. And then started again a few moments later. Frowning, he pressed his pen deeper into the documents, scratching it more loudly. In response, she tapped harder.
This continued like that for, oh, maybe five minutes, until Anton slammed his hands down on the table. "Alright, I'll go! Just cut it out already!"
Alyssa grinned. "Cool."
Planet Gardius – Section Thirteen Headquarters, Garage – 1145 Hours
"Um…"
Alyssa glanced up from where she sat, looking exasperated. "What now? You're looking at it like it's some kind of torture machine."
"Depends on who's operating it." Anton thought morosely. It wasn't just that the motorcycle sat in one corner of the garage like a metal, aerodynamic wild animal, even if that helped. It was more how Alyssa sat on it that worried him. She looked eager, and he'd never heard of anyone eager to drive one of these things carefully.
It wasn't the only thing, either. As he clipped on the helmet (was it his imagination, or was it a bit thin?), he gestured at it and her lack of one with his eyes. "Aren't you, uh…"
"Huh? Oh, nah." She smiled. "I've never really needed one, y'know?"
Anton did indeed know, going by her expression. But even considering what he'd admitted earlier, saying he was too scared to let his captain drive would be a bit too far. Sighing inwardly, he climbed up beside her.
The red-head revved the engine, making Anton jump as the bike shook. "You hanging on to something?"
His gaze went down to her waist for a moment – and his hands promptly went to the chair's handles. "Ah, yes, I think so."
Alyssa grinned, revving the engine a few more times. Anton's hands increased their grip each time.
"Awesome. It'd suck if you fell off, right?" She definitely noticed him squirm that time. "Don't worry, I'll go slow."
The wheels spun, the engine roared, and they were off. Like someone above had flipped a switch, the world quickly blurred into a rush of sight and sound. Anton had been meaning to keep his head down and ride it out, but he couldn't help raising it to look at the passing surroundings. Even while flying, things had never quite looked like this. Maybe this was what she really wanted to show him – a way of teaching him to try new things during his position. He had probably misjudged Alyssa, hadn't-
And that was when the first turn came.
0
Planet Gardius – Roadside Restaurant – 1150 Hours
"Okay, okay, slow down when taking corners too. I'll remember next time, really."
"I think that…would be even worse…" Anton moaned as he sat as close to the ground as physically possible. "We were almost…horizontal for a second there." The bike didn't seem bothered by it, sitting quietly behind him. He would have leaned up against it if he didn't think it would self-destruct any second. There was no way they were made for that kind of driving.
Not resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Alyssa yanked him up. "That's a little dramatic, don't you think? You made it all the way here, and you're still in one piece. And," she added, lifting one finger, "don't add something smart onto that, 'cause I know you're thinking it."
Anton shut his mouth. It's not like he was doing it on purpose…aloud, he asked, "What is this place, exactly? You didn't say much about it." He was a little curious about what kind of food his captain preferred when she had a choice. The cafeteria was alright, but it left a little to be desired if you wanted something particular. He could do with learning about the local restaurants himself.
"See for yourself." she replied, holding the door open for him. An odd smell wafted out, almost pinching his nose as it tickled it. Had he been this hungry just a minute ago?
The inside of the diner was a low-roofed, dim affair; the only light came from a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling. A long bar went across most of the room, and the people seated at it and the few tables didn't even glance up from their dishes. Behind the bar, workers could be seen bustling through the steamy air.
More than a few members of his family couldn't have set foot in a place like this without their nose turning up so far it went through their head. But Anton had given veto power over that to his taste-buds a long time ago – not, of course, that he'd ever broadcast that to anyone. Nonetheless, though, it had to be said: "Oh, just noodles."
That did what two (well, maybe one-and-a-half) Bureau officers walking in the door couldn't. As one, every diner in the restaurant raised their head to glare at him. He gulped, but that wasn't as bad as the pinch Alyssa gave him on the cheek a half-second later. "Whaddya mean, just noodles?"
"W-well," he muttered, voice slurred, "I have been in a few places like this before. Sorry if I'm not really surprised."
A slow smile spread across Alyssa's face. "Oh, really? I can fix that."
She dragged him over to the bar, and they both sat down to wait. "Although to be honest, I am a little surprised. You wouldn't expect to find an heir who even admits places like this exist."
"It's not as though I had much choice," Anton replied, going a bit pink in his cheeks, "despite what my parents would have you believe, there aren't many five star restaurants around military academies." Even the really good ones had them inside. "It was either hoof it to the nearest restaurant, or go to the cafeteria. And…no-one wanted to go there."
"Sounds like kind of a craphole."
Anton nodded. "You're right there. It took more than a little convincing for Mother and Father to let me study there."
Alyssa's eyes were half on him, half on the menu. "Why'd you go, then?"
"Well, it's dumb," he shrugged, "but…I kind of thought a more prestigious place would make sure that I didn't have to do anything really difficult in training. I didn't want that to happen just because my parents were successful. I'm really nothing special, so how is that fair?" He blushed again. "At least, that's what I thought."
A moment passed, and then she turned to him and smiled. "That's pretty cool, Anton."
He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Well, it didn't quite work – they still showed up there after I got a bloody nose."
They both shared a laugh at that.
A short while later, their waiter bustled up, all smiles. From the looks of him, it had been a busy night. "Evening, Alyssa. Been a while since I've seen you in here."
"I've been busy. But almost getting killed last night made me hungry."
He laughed, but Anton just stared at the countertop. Something about knowing it wasn't a joke lessened the humor a tad. "So, who's your friend?" The rookie couldn't help but feel he sounded just a bit too sure of that, but maybe it was for the best.
"A new guy," Alyssa said, ruffling his hair again, "he decided he wanted to try being as crazy as the rest of my team." Her smile grew wider. "And with that in mind, he decided he'd like to try the special dish here."
Recognition dawned quickly, and the waiter gave them a thumbs-up, badly concealing a knowing wink toward her. "Oooh, does he? Well then, coming right up sir."
Anton frowned as he went eagerly back to report the order. "I'm about to regret opening my mouth, aren't I?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." she said, still grinning.
It wasn't long before the man returned with two dishes, one fairly normal, the other…well, it was entirely possible the cover, thick metal plate, and oozing from the rim were all coincidental – just like it was possible he wore these glasses for the aesthetic benefits. "For Alyssa, there's a regular, and for her gentleman friend," he waggled his eyebrows, "our specialty: the Dragon's Breath Noodle Bowl!"
Anton stared as it was plopped down in front of him, then gingerly lifted the lid. The steam clouded up his glasses in an instant, but even through them it shone like a spell someone had fit a dish around. He set the frames down, and yep, the name was spot on.
He could sense Alyssa and the waiter staring at him. It didn't take a social butterfly to tell he wasn't getting out of here without something of his getting burnt. Sighing, he picked up the spoon.
The captain's eyes widened at the morsel he scooped up. "Uh, Anton, you might wanna-"
"You wanted me to eat it, didn't you?" Anton shot back, and wrapped his lips around the spoon. He blinked, not noticing all the eyes on his back. "Hey, this is good!"
Someone's spoon clattered into their soup.
0
Planet Gardius – Secretary's Office – 1709 Hours
Anton hummed to himself slightly as his pen scratched down the page, dictating a report Major Destin had sent to his desk. Alyssa had done exactly what she wanted to: he was in a far better mood than earlier, and all it cost her were a few odd looks as they rode back. He wondered how long that would go on for. A while, probably; he didn't know everything fire could do, while she didn't know everything wind could. Like cool down a spoonful of molten soup from inside his mouth. Not many elements could do that, could they?
It was sneaky, but he had to get a hold of things here sooner or later. And that was one person he knew better here, at least. "Only ten more to go…" Well, he had time.
Another positive of his little joke was that it distracted him, at least a little, from reflecting on the information he was copying down. None of it was anything that bore thinking about it. "…unfortunately, Section Thirteen was unable to capture the Logia, which proved exceptionally resilient and hostile, but civilian casualties were kept largely to a minimum as it was focused largely upon our officers." He gave the document another glance, and continued.
"However, during the night's operations, in addition to both of Captain Triad's wayward siblings, now on the opposite side of her, we encountered several new models of the droids that have been attacking Planet Gardius." He frowned. "As you know, these models have been sighted on several attacks on Bureau personnel during operations, along with the machines known as War Armors." Photographic proof of the attacks was present with the information – he avoided looking at it.
"Since the earliest encounters with these new units were on Gardius, it can be taken as proof that the group behind them is located on or nearby the planet, as can the agent Lieutenant Dwight encountered nearby the second Logia. This has been recovered, stored, and now awaits transfer to Bureau Headquarters. The report also contains records on what Captain Stromhold believes to be the initial location of the humanoid Logia, and who was responsible for building the underground area the explosive one was kept within."
All in all, a complicated mission for anyone's first day on the job. Maybe not in writing, but that was why he didn't want a desk job, wasn't it? And there were other benefits too. A group assassinating Bureau personnel… "It'd be too lucky for it to be them. But if they want to get rid of us, I'm not going down without a fight!"
At the time, he had no idea how prophetic those words would be.
To be continued…
Not a day or two after the last case comes another curious one; investigating some unusual seismic activity on one of Gardius' moons. Unfortunately, while it has also attracted the attention of one Mr. Angelo, he is not the one responsible – and the confrontation that ensues will be a very direct one.
Next time, Descent. Who will they meet down in the dark?