"Hey, the kid not only survived, but brought back a souvenir as well." Chief Murdoch's gruff voice was the first thing Daniel heard when he left the cockpit. Walking across towards the side of Pulverizer's chest he looked over the side and realized what exactly the mechanic was talking about. The Gleipnir anchor was still lodged in his machine's right shin.
"Yeah. Looks like it!"Daniel shouted back, staring at the machine's leg. However, his thoughts weren't on the big piece of metal. Daniel was sure, that Murdoch and his men would repair the damage … somehow. His thoughts had taken him back to the events in space, when Buster had almost killed him. Only by Mu's quick intervention he was saved. The intervention took form as a gunbarrel, which was placed in the beam's path. That and Duel suffering damage, something which seemed to alarm Buster's pilot, forcing him to break off and retreat. By all means he should be dead right now, floating in space as nothing more than bloody vapor. All because he'd failed to notice the warning about Pulverizer's energy level.
After the Buster had pulled away and left him alone, Daniel was able to check out the cause of the problem. It turned out that while the Pulverizer's generator could, theoretically, power the machine for infinite amount of time, it was possible to run out of power if the machine was forced to perform energy-consuming tasks for long periods of time. Reckless fire from both plasma cannons combined with constant use of laser blades and pushing boosters to maximum was one of them. It was worth remembering. Piloting without thinking was bad. Very bad.
Much to Daniel's relief, it turned out that the Pulverizer hadn't shut down forever. The system had only cut off energy from all power-hungry systems while the generator cooled down, leaving Daniel with just life support, visual sensors, short range communications and minimal maneuvering ability. After fifteen minutes, weapon systems, long-range communications, sensors and other high-end systems came back to life along with the Pulverizer's signal on Miriallia's display. Saying that everyone was relieved to hear from Daniel again was a bit of an understatement.
"Have to remember to thank Mu for pulling my ass out of fire." He reminded himself and pushed away from the Pulverizer, steering himself towards the burly mechanic who was standing in front of his machine. Probably assessing the damage. Daniel thought as he reached the floor. "So, how does it look like? Can you fix it?"
Murdoch sighed and shook his head. "Yes and no, kid. That anchor's as good as gone, but that's where the real problem starts. Just by looking I'm guessing that hydraulics and whatever else is inside the leg are seriously messed up. I'll know more when I take a closer look."
Daniel looked at the damage then back at the mechanic. "Doesn't sound like much of a problem to me." Murdoch glared sideways at him.
"You really think it's that easy?" A nod answered the question. "Look, kid. I told you before; we don't have spare parts for your machine. I could try to fix it by using spares from Strike, but it will take time and it also means the performance won't be the same anymore. And of course there's also the armor problem." Daniel, who was already felling down from the bad news, felt the sinking felling in his gut increase. "I don't know what's it made of, but I do know that we don't have it. And I'll need something to replace the lost armor. Hopefully, we'll get something from the 8th fleet. If not, I'll probably have to improvise." He glared at Daniel again. "Now, do you still think it's easy?"
Daniel paused for a moment and then admitted defeat. "Fine, you convinced me. Still, please try to get this machine repaired before the next battle." Murdoch scratched his head and sighed.
"Yeah, yeah, kid. I'll se what I can do, but I don't think that we'll have problems anytime soon. We have TWO fleets protecting us after all."
"I know … Well, good luck." Daniel replied and moved towards the changing room, leaving the older man to his tasks. However, there was something wrong about the current situation. Everybody aboard the Archangel knew that their destination had been changed, but the question was … where? Where were they heading?
xxxxx
A deep frown had settled on Murrue's forehead ever since they received a message from the 11th fleet's flagship, the Aggressor, ordering the Archangel to take its position between the two Agamemnon class carriers in the forward part of the formation. The frown didn't fade even as her ship took its position between the Aggressor and the hastily repaired Scipio. Murrue spared a quick glance at the display, showing the entire formation, and let out a heavy sigh. Most of the 8th fleet was positioned on the formation's outer rim while Menelaus was located in the rear, far away from them as possible.
Something didn't fell right. The orders had been short and almost demanding. Any communications with other ships had been strictly prohibited. And as soon as Archangel had taken its position the entire formation had been ordered to continue their course with all possible speed.
"Ma'am, incoming message from Admiral Kane Meicoon." A voice pulled Murrue out of her thoughts.
"On screen." She quickly commanded and straightened herself even as she fought down a wave of dislike. Murrue knew that name. In fact almost everyone in the Earth Alliance military knew. Especially those, who served in space. Admiral Kane Meicoon was the man who led the attack on Junius Seven – the opening act of the war. Her dislike increased when she recalled Archangel's recent visit to Junius Seven and saw the result of Admiral's work with her own eyes. She did, however, manage to keep her face completely neutral when Kane Meicoon's face appeared on the main screen.
At first glance, Admiral Meicoon didn't look like the typical commander you would suspect being in charge of a fleet. Instead, the thirty-something year old man reminded many of a pirate than a high-ranking officer, especially due to the golden earring in his left ear. The man was sitting in his chair like a king on a throne, his head resting on his palm, while his brown eyes darted back and forth, trying to spot as many details on the Archangel's bridge as they could. Finally, a wide smile revealed several golden teeth in his mouth as his eyes settled on Murrue.
"Heey, the famous Archangel, here at last! Some of us were getting worried when Heliopolis was, you know … destroyed." He paused for effect. "Anyway, you're back, you're safe and we can go on with our business, which also includes that nice ship of yours watching our asses while the big guys get to play politics."
"Politics? Could you please explain?" Murrue closely observed Kane's thin face, eager to find out something more besides the things she already knew.
"I probably could. But you'll find out by yourself soon enough." The Admiral leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his shaved head. The only hair on his face besides the eyebrows, was a tiny patch of beard underneath his mouth. "Oh, right. The reason why I called you is that several people will be arriving on your ship shortly. The old guy in charge will fill you in. I forgot his name, but you'll know him when you see him. So, that's probably all there is." He paused, as if trying to recall anything else that might be important.
"Excuse me, sir." Murrue used the opportunity to ask some questions. "I would like to talk to Admiral Halberton, if possible. Will he be among the people arriving on our ship?"
"No. He's busy at the moment and his presence won't be needed on the Archangel, but you'll have a chance to meet him later." Kane replied and signed off.
"So that was Kane Meicoon." Murrue heard Natarle's disappointed voice as she left the CIC and headed towards Murrue. "He certainly is … different."
"I agree, Admiral Meicoon is famous for his uniqueness." Murrue agreed as Natarle stood next to her. "In any case, I wonder why he wants to send a shuttle over here? And who are those people he was talking about?" However, Natarle wasn't listening, because a sudden though registered in her mind.
"That man said, that this entire mission is political in nature. That we are supposed to escort a group of politicians." She quietly said, searching her mind for an explanation. "I'm guessing that those are the people who will be arriving, but why? What is going on?"
"Maybe the Alliance is willing to negotiate a treaty with PLANTs. A ceasefire perhaps?" Murrue guessed, however Natarle shook her head.
"That is the only thing I'm certain they're not here to do. We have plenty of resources to continue this war and now, when the G-project has been completed, the Alliance has a decent shot at turning the tide. As for ZAFT, last time I heard they were increasing their forces in Africa, probably going after Victoria base. They won't give up such an opportunity. Maybe they have already taken the base and that gives them all the initiative in Africa they need. Whatever they are here for, it has nothing to do with ending the war." Murrue considered that, once again impressed by Natarle's logic. Despite the disagreements between them, Murrue was grateful for having aboard someone, who was governed by cold logic and strict discipline.
"I guess you're right, Natarle … Besides, he did say that the person in charge will inform us about what is going on. Frankly, I'm looking forward to this meeting, these last days have raised so many questions, that they better have some good answers." Murrue said, while keeping her gaze locked on the Aggressor outside.
xxxxx
"Gamov is to cease its pursuit of the Archangel and proceed towards following coordinates. Engaging the Alliance's 11th fleet is strictly forbidden." Dearka read the message and turned away from the display to look at Nicole and Captain Zelman. "What the fuck? Break off the pursuit and don't shoot at the Alliance's ships? Is this true or am I just seeing things?" Nicole didn't say anything, but his expression was similar to Dearka's.
"We received these orders forty minutes ago." Captain Zelman said, trying to hide the surprise in his voice. "As you can see, these orders are straight from the top. Apparently something has happened while we were chasing that damned ship."
"Straight from the top?" Dearka glanced back at the message. "What does ZAFT HQ want with us?"
"They're not from the HQ, the orders were issued by the High Council." Zelman corrected.
"High Council? Now I really must know what the hell happened? … Hmm, it doesn't say anything else." Dearka carefully read the orders for the third time and sighed. Why when something important was going on everyone had to be so mysterious?
"What did Commander Le Creuset say? Did Vesalius receive the same orders?" Nicole asked thoughtfully.
"Commander Le Creuset said, that Vesalius will rendezvous with us at those coordinates after they drop off Lady Lacus … Now, excuse me, we must depart as soon as possible." The Captain replied and left.
"Yzak won't be happy about this." Dearka murmured as they moved trough the hallways several minutes later. "Why do I have to tell him something like this?"
"You don't have to." Nicole shrugged. "He'll find out by himself anyway." Dearka shot him an incredulous look.
"Are you insane!? If Yzak founds out that we've been keeping something like this from him. He'll probably push us trough an airlock without a spacesuit."
Nicole considered that and couldn't help agreeing. "Okay, I understand ... By the way how is he? I heard he was hurt pretty bad."
"Well, I managed to get him to the sickbay and the doctor should be done by now." Just as Dearka finished his sentence they both spotted Yzak leaving the sickbay on the far end of the hallway. Their comrade now sported bandages, which covered half of his face and an aura of hate, strong enough to kill a small animal. "Hey, Yzak!" Dearka called and walked over to him, with Nicole close behind.
"How are you feeling?" Nicole asked, when they were within easy speaking distance. He had a good idea about how Yzak was feeling, but this question seemed to be the most appropriate for the situation.
Yzak pretended to consider his answer. "How am I feeling? Like I've caught a face full of fucking glass, idiot! Shit, could you even ask a more stupid question than that?" Yzak's harsh reply forced Nicole to unconsciously take a step back.
"Oh, sorry." He held up his hands placatingly. "I didn't want to upset you."
"Will you shut the FUCK UP? The more you talk, the more you piss me off. Do yourself a favor and don't say a fucking word! … And what the fuck are you smiling at?" His gaze shifted to Dearka, who couldn't hold back a small grin.
"I never though I'd see you this angry, it's actually…" He didn't get any further when Yzak stepped forward, grabbed him by his collar and showed him against the wall. "Whoa, whoa! Calm down Yzak. I was just kidding!"
"I don't want to listen to your shitty jokes! If you won't shut up, I swear I'll smear you all over this wall."
"Fine, but then you'll never find out the news I brought you." Dearka said in a tight voice as Yzak's grip slowly tightened.
"I'm listening."
"First, you let me go." Dearka shook his head. It was hard to do while being pressed against the wall. Yzak paused for a moment and then slowly and regretfully, he let him go. "Thanks." Dearka muttered and corrected his uniform, smoothing out all the marks, he'd obtained because of his joke. A short cough turned his attention back to Yzak, who was now standing in the middle of the hallway with his arms crossed. "Well, we received new orders … but you won't like them. Especially after that accident of yours." He briefly pointed at Yzak's wound.
"Hurry up, damn it!"
"Yes, uh, I'll be blunt. We're ordered to leave that ship alone and rendezvous with Vesalius in the middle of nowhere."
"WHAT!?" Yzak exclaimed, his gaze traveling from Dearka to Nicole and back. Nicole, still mindful about the warning, nodded. "FUCK! They can't do this! We're not going anywhere until I've killed that bastard who did this to me!"
Dearka arched an eyebrow. "Yzak, these orders came from the High Council. There is nothing you can do to change them." Yzak glared at him and uttered a silent curse. Then he turned around and stormed off, still muttering curses under his breath.
Dearka watched him leave and when he was sure that Yzak was out of earshot, he turned his attention to Nicole. "Well, that was an interesting conversation. He has never been so pissed off before. That wound probably runs a lot deeper than it seems." Nicole stared at him, caught off guard by Dearka's cheerful tone.
"How can you be so calm? He just threatened to kill you."
"It's Yzak." Dearka waved it off. "When you know him for a long time, you get used to him." He paused for a moment and continued more thoughtfully. "On the other hand, I don't think those were empty threats either." He thought for a moment and shook his head. "Anyway he's probably sitting in the simulator right now, or yelling at Captain Zelman in order to get this ship turned around ... I should probably go and find him. Whenever Yzak gets upset, he can't get around without my helpful hand." Dearka grinned and nonchalantly went the same way as Yzak had gone a few minutes ago.
Nicole could only watch him leave in disbelief, now he really wished that Commander Le Creuset were here. He was one of the very few people that could actually reign the hotheaded Coordinator in. However, the Commander was on Vesalius, so for now, everyone aboard the Gamov would have to endure Yzak's bad mood until he calmed down or met the Commander, whichever came first.
xxxxx
Murrue couldn't deny that she was anxious. But no matter how impatient she felt, it made little impact on the shuttle in front of her, as she, along with Natarle, Mu and few others of the Archangel's original bridge crew, stood in the hangar to meet the new arrivals. Only an hour had passed since the conversation with Admiral Meicoon, but for her it seemed like eternity. While waiting always made everyone feel nervous, the last part of the waiting, while the docking procedures were taken care of were almost killing her.
Finally the main hatch on the small vessel's side hissed and slid open, allowing its passengers to get off. They instantly noticed, that all passengers were civilians. Politicians who probably had some influence in the military, but civilians nonetheless. That was until two people in distinctive black and crimson uniforms emerged from the shuttle. Unlike others, they didn't gather near the shuttle, but headed directly towards Murrue and other officers. As they approached, Murrue used the chance to get a good look at them.
The man in front was probably in his late forties, judging by the look on his face. His dark brown hair with more than a few shades of grey further fortified this theory. Despite this, the Colonel, judging by the rank insignias, walked as if he was barely thirty years old. Finally, in his left hand there was a metallic briefcase, looking just like the ones used to transport vital information.
When Murrue's eyes fell on the pale skinned man behind the Colonel, she realized that he had seen him on Artemis. She'd only seen him for a moment, but Murrue knew that this was the same man. A brief look at him, told her that this man, wearing a Major's uniform, was only a few years older than her. Certainly not more than thirty. All thoughts about the man's age were banished when she looked into his bluish-grey eyes for a fraction of a second. That brief moment was enough to send a cold shiver down her spine and made her take a sharp breath. The cold look in those eyes was unnerving. Murrue had seen a lot of cold glares in her time as an officer. But this, was different, there was something horribly wrong about that gaze.
"Good day. There is no need for introductions or formalities. I already know who you all are." Murrue was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to realize, that both men were standing in front of them. "I am Colonel Viktor Vladimirovich Nodokov. You don't have to know which unit I'm with, but all I can tell you is that I'm with the Alliance Federation's Military Intelligence." The Colonel said in a calm voice that cleared any doubts about who was in charge here, while snapping off a quick salute that Murrue couldn't begin to answer. "This is Major Domenic Moore. Same unit. Now, I understand you have questions about what's going on so I'd prefer if we talk somewhere a bit more private." He meaningfully shook the briefcase.
"Excuse me, but that is out of the question." One of the envoys, apparently the one in charge, since the politicians had been waiting for him to leave the shuttle, said from behind them in a tone that reminded many of an aristocrat talking to peasants as he lead the small group towards them. "The information is supposed to remain a secret."
"A secret? You mean like that secret over there?" Domenic sneered and jerked his head towards the Pulverizer. "Or the fact, that this ship is supposed to escort your pathetic asses to Circ-City and the entire fucking fleet is coming with us."
"That's enough!" Viktor rised his hand. Domenic, who was about to say something else, fell silent, but that didn't stop him from glaring at the politician. "Mister Dyle, you are here to deal with the representatives from Circ-City, not to enforce security. And while you are, officially, in charge, do not fool yourself by thinking that you actually run the show. Those are two different things. Are we clear about this?" His tone didn't make it a question. The envoy almost visibly shrunk under his gaze and eventually nodded. Satisfied with his little victory Viktor turned back to face Murrue. "Mr. Dyle and his aides will require some rooms, if you have any. And I would prefer to start our little meeting as soon as possible."
"Yes, of course. The meeting room is this way. Please, follow me" Murrue replied, heading towards the lifts, with everyone following close behind. "And I'll have someone prepare officers' quarters."
Approximately thirty minutes later, with the delegates settled in their rooms and Domenic leaving them to explore the ship, Murrue, Mu and Natarle met Viktor in the Archangel's meeting room. "So what exactly is going on?" Mu asked the second he entered the room. "Everyone's been talking about something big going on, but won't say a thing to us. Frankly, I'm tired of being kept in the dark."
"Please, sit." Viktor pointed at the chairs across the table in the middle of the room. He waited until all three officers had taken their places before reaching down and placing the briefcase on the table, while he himself remained standing. Unlike before, he appeared more relaxed and even friendlier, but his voice still remained quiet and serious. "What I'm about to tell you might sound unbelievable, but soon, you will find out for yourselves." He looked over them and opened his briefcase to take out a few photos, which he slid across the table. "A little more than a week ago, we picked up a strange space station heading towards Earth." He ignored the surprised gasps from the Archangel's officers when they saw Circ-City. "The space station is called Circ-City and that is our destination." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "Before you ask, no, Circ-City wasn't built on Earth, in fact it has arrived from outside the Solar system."
"It wasn't built on Earth? Where is it from then? And how do you know all this?" Mu managed, his voice choking a little as his mind tried to comprehend the facts. After a quick glance he saw the he was the first to recover from this epic bombshell. Murrue and Natarle were still looking at the photos with confusion clearly evident on their faces.
"It doesn't matter how I know about this. And I strongly advise you not to pursue this topic any further." Viktor warned while firmly staring at them. "As for your other questions, Circ-City arrived from a planet in the Alpha Centauri system."
"Sir, with all due respect, nut if you want us to believe in aliens from another planets, you will have to bring up more evidence instead of asking us to believe something like this." Natarle pinched the bridge of her nose. She could practically feel her brains tighten like a muscle under tension. "For all we know, Circ-City could be a NGO (non-governmental organization) owned installation from L4 colony cluster."
Viktor almost glared at her, but gave it a second thought instead. He couldn't help chuckle after he considered the facts from their point of view. No wonder they didn't believe him. "I don't expect you to believe me, after all you will find out everything for yourselves soon enough. But I will tell you something, which will explain a part of this." He paused for a second to gather his thoughts. "First of all, it has nothing to do with aliens. Circ-City is simply a legacy of project Utopia launched way back in AD era. Now, we all know that FTL (faster than light) travel is impossible, but considering humanity's level of technology before Reconstruction War, fact that large amounts of information were lost or destroyed during the same war and that this was supposed to be a secret project, give us enough of a grey zone to come up with a plausible theory."
"In short, this project Utopia was launched by Earth to explore Alpha Centauri system, using FTL technology and now those same people are coming back to Earth with Circ-City?" Mu summed up although it was clear that he still didn't fully believe in all that.
Viktor nodded in agreement. "Correct and we're going to meet them and offer our cooperation and to get more details about the project as well. As for why all of you are coming with us, it's to present a show of force. So that they don't get strange ideas."
"What about PLANTs? What are they going to do about this?"
"Unfortunately, it seems that they also know about Circ-City and have dispatched a fleet of their own. But we don't have to worry about them. A few days ago we agreed on a ceasefire in the vicinity of Circ-City and 11th fleet, so you are safe with us. "
"Then why are all the emissaries on this ship?" Murrue spoke for the first time since the beginning of the meeting. "Archangel is not part of the 11th fleet, your people would be safer on the Aggressor."
"It is part of the ceasefire agreement. Only one ship from both sides will be allowed near the Circ-City while the initial meeting is in progress and because this is the most advanced ship currently in service, we think that it might send the correct message. In a nutshell that is all. Are there any questions?"
"Just one. What do we tell everyone aboard this ship? We won't be able to keep a secret like this forever." Murrue asked.
"Even though there are people who would prefer you not telling about this to anyone else. I don't think whether you keep this a secret or not actually matters and it won't be a secret for long anyway, so there's no point in hiding it." Viktor pointed out. "Feel free to inform your crew. Anything else? … Then I guess we're done here." He began gathering his photos, pausing only to return the salute when the three officers left the room. All that remains now is to get to the Circ-City and forge the beginning of a new era. The Colonel thought before closing his briefcase.
xxxxx
Domenic narrowed his eyes at the Pulverizer's damaged shin and intensified his glare. He did that for two reasons. One was because he was seriously pissed off at the unfortunate soul responsible for treating the machine like this. If the guy was in my unit I would have ordered him hung by the balls for this. He thought and swore then and there, that he would make sure to turn the pilot's life into a hell by whatever means possible. There was no greater sin for a soldier than neglecting his weapon.
The other reason was hangover. All that drinking yesterday had made his head fell like it had been used as a basketball. For a whole season. All that shitty feeling in the rest of his body didn't help things either. How is that guy unaffected is beyond me. He drank almost twice as much as I did. Domenic rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. At least he could stand on his own, without holding onto something. But who knew how long it would to feel like a human again.
"Hey! What the fuck are you doing over there!?" Someone yelled from behind him. Domenic could have sworn that his hangover disappeared like it had never been there. Who, in their right mind, had the balls to yell at him? Much less in a tone like that? He turned around and saw a boy in Ensign's uniform walking towards him. Domenic took a closer look and grinned. The black haired boy certainly looked pissed off, but the bravado was only an illusion. An illusion, which disappeared as soon as he realized that no one saw him as a threat. Teenage boys. Thinking only with their dicks or muscles. Might as well have some fun with him. Domenic's grin grew even wider as he fully faced the boy.
The somewhat dim part of the hangar and the dark colors prevented Daniel from properly seeing Domenic's uniform until it was too late. The angry look disappeared from Daniel's face when he realized that the man was a Major and when he looked into the Major's eyes he stopped completely. Oh, shit! Me and my big mouth!
"What's wrong boy? Where did all that anger go?" Domenic looked at the frozen boy like a predator on a prey. "I thought you came here to kick my teeth in. Don't tell me you changed your mind, boy."
"S-sorry …"
"S-sowwy?" Domenic mocked Daniel's voice and took a step towards the boy. When Daniel immediately took an involuntary step back, he shook his finger no. "No. You stand right there, boy! If you're brave enough to show disrespect to superior officers, you should be brave enough to stand your ground and take responsibility." He stopped barely a meter away from Daniel and looked him over with a disappointed look on his face. "You're too young for the armed forces. How old are you, boy? Sixteen?"
"Uh-huh." Daniel nodded trying to look anywhere else than at the man in front of him.
"Is that how you talk to an officer?"
"I don't know! I'm a volun…" Daniel wanted to say, but was unable to finish the sentence when Domenic suddenly rushed forward and drove a solid fist into his stomach. The punch made Daniel feel like his insides were wrapped around his spine as he sunk to his knees, arms around his stomach and coughing wildly while trying to regain his breath. The intense pain also caused tears to well up in his eyes, making everything appear blurry and distorted. He tasted something sour in his mouth but couldn't work up the strength to spit it out. Daniel was still lying on the ground, gasping for breath when he heard Domenic speak again.
"There, you took responsibility for your actions. Probably for the first time in your life, you little piece of shit." The voice was coming from nearby; probably the Major had knelt down. "Now that you've repented. Do you mind answering a few questions?"
"No … sir." Daniel had no idea where he got the strength for the "sir" part. Apparently fear was a major motivation. It seemed Domenic thought that as well.
"And they say that violence solves nothing." Domenic chuckled again. "Now, what's your name? And you can drop the "sir" part. I never had a thing for formalities."
"Daniel … Daniel Stokes." Domenic's eyes narrowed when he heard the name.
"Hmm, Stokes, Stokes. I know that name … Wasn't your old man Christopher Stokes?" A nod answered that question as Daniel slowly climbed up to his feet again. Domenic also rose to his feet and cast a suspicious glance at the boy. "That means you're the pilot of the Pulverizer, right?" He pointed over his shoulder at the machine behind him. Shock and surprise crossed Daniel's face when Domenic said the machine's name.
"How do you know…"
"About the Pulverizer? There are a lot of things I know about that thing, you haven't even the slightest idea about."
"Tell me." Daniel suddenly demanded and even stepped closer to him. Driven by the fact that this man knew something about the Pulverizer made his forget his fear. Domenic stared at him in surprise before bursting into laughs.
"You got some balls, boy, I'll give you that … do you really expect me to tell you everything I know?"
"Tell me dammit!" Daniel half shouted and once again realized that he had made a mistake. A gun's muzzle was firmly pressed against his forehead barely a second later.
"Don't tempt me, boy." Domenic warned in a low voice, his eyes observing the boy with their usual coldness. He twisted the gun, putting more pressure on Daniel's forehead. "The only reason I haven't blown out your fucking brains is that I knew your old man. But if you keep acting like this, I'll make sure that you'll join your parents very soon. Understand?"
It was then, standing in the Archangel's hangar in front of the Pulverizer and with a gun at his head, that Daniel finally realized the seriousness of the situation. This man, whoever he was, wasn't joking. Daniel was certain that the man could kill him then and there and, judging by how hard the man was pressing the gun against his head, he really had to come up with a reason for the man not to shoot him. He looked to his side, as much as he could without turning his head. Only a few people were in the hangar, all of them too far away to help. And certainly too far to stop a bullet. He was on his own. "Yes, I understand." Daniel looked back at the officer and even threw in another nod, so that there were no uncertainties, however, he still couldn't find a good enough reason.
"Good." Domenic said, the gun not moving for a bit. "Now, answer my questions. Does this Pulverizer work normally?"
"Yes, once you activate the Muscle Trace linkup."
"Good enough to survive a battle?"
"Yes. I've already shot down three GINNs." Daniel replied with a tiny hint of pride.
"Three GINNs, you?" Domenic frowned incredulously and slowly, almost hesitatingly, removed the gun. "What were you fighting, boy? A bunch of brain dead retards? … Never mind. What did you find out from the information database? Just the name of the files."
"Not much … Just the mission objectives and that the Primal Threat has to do something with Ravens." Daniel answered; having no idea whether the man had any idea what he was talking about, but now that the gun was gone, he was ready answer any questions the man asked.
"Is that all? Shit, then this machine has no intelligence value at all." Domenic muttered to himself, sparing a frustrated glance at the blue machine. On the other hand it wasn't that much of a problem, since this machine's true value was something else.
"Um, sir … What's a Raven?" Daniel gritted his teeth, cursing his curiosity. Why can't I keep my fucking mouth shut for once!? Just when that guy decides not to kill me I have to go and ask a stupid question. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Domenic glanced at him with a corner of his eye. The boy was seriously fucked in the head. Just when he had climbed out of one pit, he instantly jumped in the next one. However, something stayed his hand. The boy was already involved with the Pulverizer, he had tasted combat, plus his father was the man in charge of developing G-weapons and studying the Pulverizer, and finally, the boy was from Atlantic Federation. Maybe he could answer some of his questions for a change. Nothing much, just a little something. "Ravens are AC pilots, boy. Mercenaries. And AC stands for Armored Core. That is all you will hear from me, boy."
Despite having dozens of other questions, even Daniel understood that no other questions would be tolerated. Fortunately, his mouth realized that as well because no sudden question crossed his lips. Besides, he had to digest this new information anyway. He knew that the bastard had deliberately given him incomplete answer. Something to tease him with. Because the only thing worse than an answer which didn't explain anything was an answer which rised more questions. Specifically, what the hell was a Armored Core? And why these mercenaries were considered to be so dangerous? He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that the man was leaving until he heard Domenic's voice coming from behind him.
"Don't think about those questions, you'll find answers soon enough. And if you really want to make it out of my black list, boy, you'll make sure that this Pulverizer reaches Alaska in one piece!"
Daniel stared at the officer with a puzzled look. This Pulverizer? What the hell did that mean?
xxxxx
Why do the emergency lights have to be so dim? If it's an emergency, it should be only logical for the lights to be bright, so that everyone could see. Jack stared at the dim, reddish lights at the ceiling. Instead they decide to make everything appear like out from a horror movie, by making people look like monsters. He finished the unusual thought and lowered his gaze to look the closest man in the eyes. "I guess you don't want to settle this in a diplomatic manner?" He said and swallowed. It was hard to do that, especially with a knife against your throat.
"Oh, now you want to be civil, Jack?" The man holding the knife hissed and applied more pressure. Forcing the boy to almost become one with the wall. "You brought this on yourself when you decided to fuck with us."
"I wasn't fucking with you. You hired me to defend your warehouse and I did just that."
"Yes, and after that you destroyed the warehouse yourself." Another man, standing in the hallway to Jack's left, pointed out. There were mutters of agreement from the remaining two people, standing watch nearby and keeping an eye on the boy who was gradually pressed more and more against the wall by their leader. "That wasn't in the contract."
"True, but I'm talking about another contract." Jack croaked. "The one I received from the same person who wanted to destroy whatever stuff you were hiding there." Upon reflection, that wasn't the best thing to say. Telling everyone that you worked for both sides did nothing to increase your life expectancy.
"So, we got ourselves a double-dealing rat… Do you know what we do to guys like you?" The man grinned and then waved his hand at his thugs. As one, they turned around to fully face Jack and his captor and pulled out their guns.
"Whoa, whoa! Guys! What are you doing?" Jack's eyes widened as his gaze quickly jumped from one weapon to another. "Guns aren't allowed here!"
"That's why we have them." The man with the knife stepped back a little and threw a sudden punch at Jack's nose. He didn't break it, but it got messed up pretty bad.
"Fag you, baztad." The boy cursed, realizing that the guns were only there to distract him. These guy knew how to deal with people like Jack.
"Now, now Jack. Watch your mouth, or I might not be so merciful any more." The leader said over his men's laughs, watching Jack bend in half so that the blood wouldn't stain his clothes. He allowed it to go on for a moment. "Now, I will tell you what we're going to do with you. We're not going to kill you. We will just take whatever you have, sell it and use the money to place a bounty on your head. Won't it be ironic, when someone accepts the contract and kills you? Your life will be ruined just like mine with a simple "Contract accepted". Hell, we should even throw in some special demands, like asking that your eyes should be cut out before killing you or something exclusive like that. What do you think?" Judging by the jeers, his men agreed wholeheartedly, while Jack continued to hold his hand to his nose. "Now, c'mon, Jack, let's go and get this over with." He was reaching out to grab the boy, when everything went down the drain.
With a sudden movement Jack jumped forward, his left hand aimed at the man's side. The leader only had a fraction of a second to realize that Jack was holding what was commonly known as a shiv in his hand, before jabbing it deep into his armpit as Jack moved past and under his arm. Using the element of surprise, Jack ran towards where the shortest man of the group was obstructing the hallway. Moving faster than most people his age Jack reached his next opponent before they realized what was going on. With slowing down, the boy used all his momentum to shove the thug aside and made his run for freedom.
"Fuck, he's too fast!" Someone yelled from behind, shortly before bullets started raining down the dark corridor. Luckily, all of them missed their intended target as Jack crouched low and zigzagged towards the nearest hatch with all the speed he could muster. He was lucky. The hatch was equipped with a motion sensor, which still seemed to be working, because the second he got near, the hatch slid open, allowing him to keep running without loosing much of his speed. The shots behind him became more and more quiet, before dying down eventually.
He was safe … for now. The enemy wasn't pursuing him. They had their boss to take care of and without any money, placing a reasonable bounty on him was going to be extremely difficult. With a strong sniff, Jack tried to stop the bleeding, while simultaneously looking around for an exit. He also made a note to never reply to mysterious calls, asking him to visit the maintenance level.
"Hmm, looks like the bleeding stopped." He looked at the palm of his hand and then wiped it against the nearby wall. "Better ask Ashley to take a look at it later. But for now, I think that I should hide somewhere until those bastards calm down." He looked around and noticed an elevator. During the brief moment it took for the elevator car to arrive, Jack decided to head for the docking area. Ever since departing, the place was mostly abandoned and few people hung around there. Of course, there were rumors going around, that something big was about to happen there, but Jack didn't pay much attention to that. After spending more than a week in this place, strange rumors were the least of your worries. Not with all those crazies running around and threatening to take everything you owned.
"The day I let them take my stuff, will be a fucked up day indeed." Jack laughed and entered the elevator. "Well, here's for a few days in the docking area." He muttered and pressed the button.
A/N - Okay, a whole lot of dialogue and barely any action in this chapter. As you all can see, this is where I'm introducing (or at least trying) the Armored Core universe into the story, and because words are mightier than the sword, a lot of dialogue is to be expected. Anyway, this marks the beginning of the second arc and you can expect a lot of new characters making their appearance. Some of them already have. Also, logically, ACs will also soon appear and that is where the biggest challenge lies, to find a balance between Mobile Suits and Armored Cores.
Okay, I've mumbled enough for one time. Next chapter - Circ-City, part II will be up as soon as I finish it.
- Asmus