Eureka Seven: Blank Pages
Fan Fiction by Dan
All places, characters, references copyright 2005/2006 Bones Studios
Chapter 12
Between Pages
Talho nervously shifted in her seat as she waited on the fine grain leather couch just outside the office of Lieutenant Colonel Dewey Novak.
Noticing her uncharacteristic behavior MA1 Wintermote leaned over slightly and asked his voice no more than a whisper in the immaculately prim receptionist area outside Dewey's office. "Everything ok Lieutenant?"
Unconsciously straightening the hem on her skirt, Talho cut her eyes towards him. "Why are you asking?"
Leaning back into the couch, the leather creaking and squeaking under his stout frame, crossing his arms across his barrel chest, Wintermote cautiously replied. "You just seem…a little," He lowered his chin and smiling cut his eyes back at her. "…Anxious Ma'am,"
Her shoulders visibly relaxing under the cut of her uniform Talho let out an exasperated breath. "Is it that obvious, MA1?" She huffed.
Wintermote stifled a laugh. "Well I don't think that I've ever seen you this nervous before Ma'am."
Talho smiled and picked up a brown folder she had sat down next to her on the couch. Opening it she quickly leafed through the report that she and Petty Officer Wintermote had put together, the pages outlining all the details that they had gathered during the investigation the two had conducted these past couple of months on the Vodarac suicide bomber attack, the ambush on the female Sage's Executive Protection Detail as they made their way back to the airfield, as well as the evidence found in the hotel room where, based on phone call received from the hotel's owner, Talho's team had discovered a body who, according to the preliminary findings collected by the coroner on scene- the scarred hand missing a thumb, numerous bomb making materials, and various pro-Vodarac leaflets- was the man who was positively identified as the maker of the two bomb vest worn by the suicidal bombers and according to the coroner's final report…Talho shook her head…also just happened to be the victim of an apparent self-inflected gunshot wound to the head.
Talho frowned. It all seemed too easy…she thought…so convenient that everything, every piece of evidence pointed back to the body of that old Vodarac bomb maker. I mean come on, it all seems so blatantly obvious that even the most wet-behind-the-ears command investigator, fresh out of "A" school could easily put two-and-two together and assemble the pieces of this puzzle.
And then there was that other thing.
She sharply exhaled, her frown deepening further.
Of all the information they had gathered in this case, one piece of particular interest to her was the information…or lack of, she humorously mused…on the mysterious silver and black trimmed Five-Zero-Five that was shot down by Lieutenant Hollings Eight-Zero-Eight.
Its pilot, identified by Edward as former Executive Protective Agent Johann Scott, was nowhere to be found, his ejection seat and parachute discovered not far from the blasted remains of the Five-Zero-Five. Blood found on scene indicated that he had sustained injuries either from the fight or ejecting from the cockpit. Other than that, all other leads on the man had turned up nothing.
Talho doubted that I.B. would ever find anything more on him because of the fact that, according to his dossier she had dug up, Scott had received almost all the same training as her new Commanding Officer, one Major Jonathan Marcus.
She shook her head recalling the brick wall she had ran into researching the background of the Master Instructor.
Closing the folder, sitting it in her lap Talho looked over at the door leading into the Lieutenant Colonel's office. Taking in a long slow breath, exhaling she looked over at the burly Master-at-Arms, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're right; I really have nothing to be nervous about."
The door opened, Dewey's Aide-de-camp walking through. "Lieutenant Yuki, the Colonel will see you now."
Talho and Wintermote both stood.
Gesturing with a nod towards Wintermote the Aide told him, the man's tone sharp. "Only the Lieutenant, Petty Officer. You may wait out here."
Sensing him tense up, Talho turned slightly towards Wintermote. "It's ok MA1, I'll be alright."
Not taking his eyes off Dewey's Aide, Wintermote said. "I guess I'll be out here if you need me, Ma'am,"
"Thank you MA1," Nodding in approval and tucking the folder up under her arm, 2nd Lieutenant Talho Yuki turned smartly saying to the Aide. "Lead the way, Captain; best not to keep Colonel Dewey waiting."
Heels clicking sharply against the highly buffed floor, head held high, shoulders squared back, 2nd Lieutenant Talho Yuki marched into Colonel Dewey's office.
Right hand casually resting on his knee, left elbow propped up on his desk, hand lightly stroking at his chin Dewey Novak sat at his desk looking out the large windows of his office quietly contemplating the words he had just finished reading, the book closed sitting atop his desk next to a brown folder, the books dust jacket's artwork depicting a female figure in the forefront holding a sword, off in the background a tree, its boughs weighted down, branches dipping towards the ground, the entire illustration painted by the artist in soft shades of yellow-ochre.
The sound of a door opening softly gave him pause. Looking over he saw as his current Aide-de-camp walked through the doorway followed closely by the pleasantly alluring form belonging to certain female Information Bureau Officer.
Stopping, bowing slightly at the waist…How easily people are swayed by the mere image of power, Dewey thought…the Aide smartly reported. "Sir, 2nd Lieutenant Yuki,"
Nodding, Dewey turned and with a slight motion of his hand dismissed the aide, who bowing slightly at the waist again, turned on his heel and quickly left closing the door behind him, the sound of the door locking echoing loud in the vast office.
Dewey swiveled his chair back, resumed looking out the window.
Talho stood there at attention, trying her best to discern the Colonel's mood, his sky-blue eyes hidden beneath the leather brim of the combination cover he was currently wearing.
A clever tactic…She thought, remembering, watching her new Commanding Officer utilizing the bill on his black ball cap in similar fashion whenever he didn't wish his emotions to be seen through his, as Marcus had put it: "the windows of his soul".
Dewey kept his body turned towards the window, looked down out of the corner of his eyes at the hem of her dress grey uniform skirt. The two had rarely seen each other in the months preceding the failed assassination attempt on the female Sage. He took a deep breath, calmed the beginnings of the emotion of…
…Longing…
…Desire…
…Lust…
…he felt for the young woman standing there quietly at attention in his office, the curves of her body visible even through the cut of her Federation Dress Uniform.
Talho felt his stare. It excited her, frightened her at the same time. Noticing a folder sitting next to a book on his desk, the folder similar to the one tucked up under her arm, she suddenly realized that he didn't care about the report she was carrying, didn't care about the information contained in it…
All he wanted was …
A corner of his mouth turned upward ever so. Slowly he stood and lifted his head, eyes intently glaring into her hers.
…not her body, but…
"Very well, Lieutenant," he softly began. "Let's have that report now, shall we?"
…her very soul.
"Sir," Talho smartly replied.
Dewey smiled. "Relax Talho; it's just the two of us. No need for formalities between…friends." He walked around, sat on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. His eyes, hidden in the shadow of the brim of his dress cover, remaining fixed upon hers.
Talho opened the folder, ignoring his stare, and began reading.
Dewey sat there listening as she gave the report nodding his head every once in a while. He had already read her report of course, purposely placed it on his desk for her to see, so when she paused to turn a page he leaned up off the desk and started to walk toward her.
Talho paused midsentence, fought back the sudden urge to run. The door…it's locked stupid…she chided herself.
Dewey noticed the slight flinch, stopped, placed his hands together in the small of his back, said. "Do not stop. Please Talho, continue,"
She swallowed, found her voice and resumed speaking.
Smoothly Dewey walked over, stood next to her, leaned in close, took a deep breath, found her scent intoxicating. "Funny, isn't it," He said interrupting. Leaning in closer he continued, whispering into her ear, his breath hot on her neck. "These baser instincts," He took another deep breath. "Animalistic emotions that are…so hard for people to control…so very easy to give into, wouldn't you agree, Talho?" He reached out, his hands encircling her thin waist, and gently pulled her close to him.
Feeling as his body pressed up against hers Talho trembled slightly, felt her cheeks flush. "Sir…Colonel… please…the report."
Feeling her tremble in his embrace only made him want her all the more. Oh the desire to appease these feelings he thought. Suddenly he released her, and taking a step back slowly inhaled. Regaining his composure Dewey walked back behind his desk and turned, placed his hands on top of his chair facing her, his face a mask of complete composure as he said. "Yes, of course. What were you covering?"
Talho took a deep breath and ignoring the pounding of her heart in her ears continued. "I was just getting to the information myself and Petty Officer Wintermote gathered on the silver and black trimmed Five-Zero-Five,"
"And what of it," Dewey snapped, his tone sharper than what he would've liked, the emotions of desire still stewing in his heart. Turning his back towards her, he looked out the window. "It was shot down, wasn't it?"
"Well, yes it was," Talho replied. "But we've had no luck finding the pilot." She paused.
"And, Lieutenant,"
Back to formalities I see… "Well Colonel, the pilot," Talho paused, flipped up a couple of pages. "Was identified as Captain Johann Scott," She looked up from the page. "Who, according to the information we have obtained, was summarily discharged from the Military a few years ago,"
"And this is important, because?" He asked, his tone maintaining its edge.
Talho noted his timbre of his speech, continued. "The Five-Zero-Five was, according to the Executive Protection Detail, running a very sophisticated electronic countermeasures suite. A suite strong enough that it was able to disrupt all tele-viewer and radio communications with-in," She glanced down at the page. "According to the readings obtained from the S.O.F. pilot that shot it down, an area encompassing approximately ten square miles surrounding the blast site. Based on current trends with-in the Vodarac terrorist organization, they couldn't have obtained anything like that outside of anywhere but from a Military facility."
"Have you been able to verify this?"
Talho sighed, shoulders sagged. "No Colonel, the device was unfortunately destroyed. And all other evidence was…slagged."
He turned his head slightly. "Slagged, Lieutenant?"
Thanks a lot MA1… "We think that somebody, the pilot or an accomplice, used either a thermite or phosphorous grenade and melted what wasn't shot up by the responding S.O.F. terminus units. Slagged, sir."
Dewey smiled inside. Everything was going just as planned. "That is rather unfortunate." He said. Putting his hands behind his back he added. "Is there anything else of interest?"
Closing the folder, tucking it back up under her arm, Talho hesitantly answered. "No, Colonel."
"Very well Lieutenant, you are dismissed." Reaching over towards his desk he touched a hidden button. "My aide will see you out."
Just like that…she thought. Snapping to attention she said. "Thank you Colonel,"
Turning she walked over to the door. Stopping just short of the door Talho took a deep breath and turned around.
"Actually, sir, there is one other thing."
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
Talho took a deep breath. "I find it rather curious as to why the Vodarac would spend so much time planning an assassination only to send out two bombers with faulty detonators? It seems rather odd don't you think, all that time and manpower wasted. It just doesn't seem right."
Dewey kept his back to her, continued staring out the window. When he finally spoke his voice was even, unemotional. "Who can understand the mind of a fanatic?"
Catching his tone, Talho raised an eyebrow…He's hiding something…but then the door opened, the Captain gesturing for her to follow him out.
Closing the heavy wooden doors behind the female Information Officer the Captain asked. "Colonel; will that be all?"
"Yes Captain, that is all. You may leave."
"Sir!" The Aide turned and opened the door.
"Lock it behind you and see that no one disturbs me for the rest of the day."
"Yes sir,"
Dewey sat back down at his desk and resting his hand on his chin closed his eyes, going back over the words contained in the book on his desk. A low humming sound infiltrated his thoughts as the doors to the elevator entrance to his office opened, a hulking form of a man walking out of the shadows and towards his desk.
Not bothering to open his eyes, Dewey said. "Well,"
"Bravo Colonel, bravo. If my arm still wasn't in this damn sling I would applaud your performance."
Dewey lifted his head and opened his eyes. Standing there, wearing his Federation Dress Gray uniform, stood the pilot of the black and silver trimmed Five-Zero-Five.
Johann Scott inclined his bullet-shaped head, raised an eyebrow, the muscles tugging at an ugly scar just above it, turned up a corner of his mouth, continued saying. "Worthy of an award, it was."
Dewey thinly smiled, returned the gesture. "All the world's a stage,"
"And all the men and women merely players." Scott said finishing the ancient quote.
"Quite." Dewey remarked somewhat surprised. "And how is your arm?"
Scott shrugged. "Better. Your doc's are top notch, I'll give them that. Shouldn't be more than a couple of weeks before I can get back in the saddle; got a score to settle with an old friend, you know." His balled his other hand into a fist. "And to collect on a new one,"
Yes, yes you do…Dewey thought. "The TypeZERO,"
Scott blinked once, his eyes becoming hard, a murderous scowl forming on his face. "Little pale, parasite bitch," He spat out. "Marcus was in my grasp…in my grasp," He lifted his clenched fist up. "And I would've had him to if she and that grey demon she pilots hadn't shown up."
Dewey leaned back into his chair, crossed his legs and reached out placing his left hand casually on top of his desk with-in easy reach of the automatic pistol concealed in a holster underneath.
Scott's anger was palatable…Dewey noted…his rage filling the Colonels office. "Just give me what I want and I'll make sure that…that…" He paused, his face contorted in rage. "That thing that thinks it's a human will never…NEVER…" His voice trailed off, his eyes wide in anger.
That's it, rage my friend…The Lieutenant Colonel kept his eyes fixated on the big man…Rage is good, but it must be directed, focused. You will do what I ask of you as long as it fuels your need for revenge. These baser human emotions, so easy to give into…
"Relax," Dewey said his voice honey smooth as he slowly stood. "Calm yourself,"
…so easy to…
Dewey smiled.
…control.
Scott scowled, slowed his breathing, calming his inner demons and looking over at the Lieutenant Colonel…discovered that there were greater demons in this world then the ones raging inside of him.
Dewey smile faded back into some dark abyss. Sitting back down at his desk he picked up the book, and opened it saying. "That is all, you are dismissed."
Scott stiffened to attention. "Yes sir!" He barked out. As he started to turn he stopped, looked back. "Just you give me what I want, and I'll give you what you need."
Dewey didn't respond and as he heard the elevator doors hiss close he momentarily closed the book, his thumb marking the page. Looking back out the window he finished quoting the rest of the passage. "They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts."
Opening the book, he started to read, stopped, glanced back out the window mulling over the last part of the quote, the words echoing in forefront of his mind…
And one man…
one man…
plays many parts…
many parts…
…and reaching over, picking the folder of Talho's report up, moved it off to the side revealing another folder underneath, its contents containing information regarding research currently being conducted on a project of far greater interest to him than the desire for one man's revenge against another.
Project Omega…
Thinking briefly, recalling that the lead research scientist on the project had found a viable test subject, Dewey leaned forward, touched a button on his desk. "Captain,"
The Aide-de-Camp immediately responded. "Yes Colonel,"
"Contact the Doctor. Inform him that I wish to see him. Tell him I require…another device."
"Very well sir,"
Leaning forward in his chair Dewey opened the folder…a four by six inch color glossy photo of the test subject staring back up at him, the subjects eyes blank, completely void of any emotion staring down at a portable Compac Drive, strawberry colored hair held out of the subjects face by gold hair clips…wondered briefly about the young girl discovered by Doctor Hayase and her team, then focusing back upon the words written down on the pages of the book continued reading.
The young girl quietly sat on the stone bench thumbing through the pages of what her young mind perceived to be an expensively bound book. Reaching up, pulling a stray strand of strawberry colored hair out of her face, placing it behind her ear, the young girl cocked her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.
Something was wrong with the book she was holding…
The pages…
They were all blank.
Bringing her head up the young girl slowly looked around. "Where is this place?" She asked out loud.
As her eyes took in the scene surrounding her, she noticed what appeared to be row up row of bookcases stretching down both sides of the street, a part of her mind dimly recalling images of the public library she had once visited with her parents in the city that as a small child she vaguely remembered growing up in.
What was the name of the city…bringing her hand up to her chin she tried to remember…War…War-something I think it was called.
Leaning back placing the book on her lap the young girl looked up into the golden colored sky. Where were Tom and Janice?
Furrowing her brows together the young girl concentrated hard, trying to remember what had happened to her adoptive parents. The last thing she recalled was that the three of them were about to have some ice cream.
Turning her attention back to the book in her hands she opened it, began flipping through it…
The young girl gasped.
Stuck between two blank pages was a dried up flower…
…a red- petaled…
…Anemone.
Her adoptive fathers face appeared, a ghostly image in the forefront of her young mind, his mouth moving, forming the words. "My…Anemone…"
"Daddy," She whispered picking the flower up out of the book. "Daddy, where are you?"
Puzzled the young girl looked up from the page at the rows upon rows of bookcases. There was something wrong with all these as well. Glancing down at the book she was holding it suddenly struck her young mind…
The bookshelves…
Just like the book in her hand…
…Were all empty.
She glanced down at her feet, there was still something else missing. "Gulliver, where are you? Gulliver!" She called out. "Where could he be?" She asked as she started to stand.
A man slowly walked by, his hands in his pockets, an absentminded look on his face as he stared off into the golden colored sky.
The young girl sat the open book down and reached out to him. "Excuse me sir, have you seen Gulliver? He's my pet."
Stopping the man turned and looking down upon the young girl, his blue eyes sparkling, shook his head slowly back and forth.
"I don't understand," The young girl turned her head frantically looking around. "He was here just a while ago…" Standing, fighting back tears, she yelled out. "Daddy! Where are you? Daddy!"
Beep…
Startled by the sound, the noise seemingly to reverberate inside her head, the young girl stopped looking around and looking back up asked the dark haired man. "Did you hear that?"
The man shook his head again.
Beep…
"OW!" The young girl suddenly grabbed at her arm. "That hurt!" She exclaimed.
"I hope that this works," A female voice echoed around her. "Anemone, can you hear me?"
"She's still transfixed by it," Another female voice remarked. "Give it a little more time, Lisa. Be patient."
Beep…
Eyes wide the young girl started to feel as something warm began coursing through her veins, the strange feeling wrenching at her heart, tearing at her soul, the feeling in her chest of something or someone trying to wrench her very being away from one reality and back into another.
The background behind the man began to slowly fade. "What's…What's happening to me?" She asked.
Beep…
The man turned and started to walk away.
"No, wait! Don't go. I don't want to be alone. Please, I want to stay!" The girl pleaded as the world around her began to go out of focus, blurring, fading into a blackness that was all consuming. "Daddy, daddy, I don't want to miss it! I don't want to miss the bus!" She shrieked out.
Beep…
Silence.
Stopping, the man looked back over towards the stone bench, the young girl that was standing there only a moment before…gone.
Walking back over the man reached down picking the leather bound book up. Turning it gently over in his hands, he glanced up and down the path then with a grave look in his eyes closed and placed it onto one of the many empty shelves and as the man turned and started walking up the path he noticed…
…fallen out of the hand of the young girl…
…lying on the stone bench…
…was the red-petaled flower.
Dr. Lisa Hayase stood alone in the middle of one of the Tresor research facilities large hangar bays, arms folded across her white lab coat, the former S.T.A.T. Gunship pilot turned Scientist looking up almost longingly at the TypeTheEND, the archetype naked, hanging from its support gantry directly in the middle of the immense structure, its skeletal structure a milky shade of white in the barely lit din of the large hangers overhead lights.
Lisa took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling. It's been almost an hour and a half…She thought slowly shaking her head back and forth…Anemone hasn't shown any response at all to the serum.
Standing there, listening to the electrical hum of the lights, Lisa allowed her mind to start to drift. Bringing her left hand up to her chin, she pondered over everything that had occurred over the course of the past couple of months.
Closing her eyes she found herself sitting in the passenger cabin of a military flyer.
"Ladies and gentlemen…" The voice of the pilot resonated through the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've received our clearance from the tower and here in a minute we'll be making our way over onto the main runway."
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Sonja Wakabayashi looked over from across the aisle. Adjusting her glasses she asked, her tone sarcastic. "He's not serious, is he?"
Lisa laughed at her research colleague. Aside from her, Sonja and the young girl sitting quietly on what would normally be the widow side of the windowless military flyer, the overhead lights shining down on them, the passenger cabin was empty.
"Relax will you, he's just following protocol," Lisa told her as a female flight attendant entered the cabin, the young woman looking crisp in her Federation service dress uniform.
The flight attendant looked around the nearly empty cabin, shrugged her shoulders and reaching down picked up a length of seat belt and proceeded to explain the proper procedures for locking the seatbelt into place. "Uh, ladies if I could please have your attention, please remove the cards from the seat pocket in front of you."
Sonja sat upright in her seat, card in hand, her eyes fixated on the flight attendant. Lisa suppressed a yawn as the attendant went through the motions of demonstrating how to buckle the seat belt followed by the location of the emergency exits, what to do if the cabin lost pressure, and what to do if they were forced to ditch the flyer. "You'll notice on the card the illustration on how to assume the proper crash position," The attendant stopped and looked directly at Sonja, the blonde woman's eyes wide behind her glasses.
Lisa shook her head and said to Sonja under her breath. "You know, that position isn't going to do anything for you other than make it easier for the recovery crew to find your body," Leaning over she lightly elbowed the young girl sitting next to her on the shoulder. "Isn't that right, Anemone?"
The young girl didn't move, her eyes remaining fixated on the portable Compac Drive clutched tightly in her hands, the triangular tube dark.
"Whatever," Sonja sat back as the flyer trembled as the pilot gave the engines power preparing to taxi out and onto the runway. "Still, I hope that they at least serve us some breakfast on this flight."
Lisa grinned slyly. "And ruin your model perfect figure?"
Sonja blanched. Feeling around her stomach and hips she huffed out. "What! Are you saying I'm gaining weight?"
Leaning back into the seat, Lisa looked over at her friend and college with a blank look on her face that slowly broke into a smile followed by a laugh. "No silly, duh…you are so easy to get a rise out of. Relax, you look gorgeous!"
Smoothing out a couple of wrinkles on her blouse Sonja tentatively replied. "You're being nice, but I think you're right. I must be getting fat. That's why I can't find a man." Dejectedly blowing out a puff of air through her lips she threw her head back against the padded headrest. "Maybe Marcus is right,"
"Oh come on!" Lisa shot back, positive tone to her voice. "He only does that because he likes you."
Sonja adjusted her glasses and looked out of the corner of her eye. "Really?"
"Hontou." The former gunship pilot shrugged her shoulders and arching her eyebrows continued. "You should've seen how he treated Edward back when I was flying ops for the teams." Lisa laughed out loud. "They were real terrors, the both of them. I guess that's why they became such good friends."
The flyer lurched forward suddenly as the pilot put on the breaks. "Ladies and gentleman, we're next in line, so if you will all make sure that your seatback's are upright and your luggage is properly stowed we'll be making way shortly. Flight crew, cross check."
"Well, I hear that misery loves company," Sonja remarked. "Honestly I don't know if I could've put up with Marcus. Edward, well, he seems awfully quiet sometimes."
Lisa leaned back into her seat. Turning her head she looked down at Anemone. Reaching over she gently lifted two strawberry colored strands of hair out of her face, placing them behind her ear. "He wasn't always that way." Leaning over she reached down pulling a black backpack out from under the seat in front of her.
"Oh, what happened?" Sonja asked.
Unzipping the top of the pack, Lisa was greeted by a set of eyes surrounded by soft black fur that was surrounded in turn by equally soft white fur. "Do you remember my graduate thesis? You know, the one that got me noticed by Doctor Thurston?" She asked as Gulliver slowly climbed out of the backpack and looking over at his owner lowered himself, contouring his body as he settled down into the former gunship pilots lap.
Sonja brought her hand up, thoughtfully stroking her chin. "Wasn't it concerning the emotional feedback loop created by the interaction between pilot and archetype? What did you call it?"
"Compac Feedback System," Lisa said as the flyer rumbled, the pilot applying power to the engine's, the craft straining against the breaks, poised as it was ready to zoom down the runway. "Edward was one of the first LFO pilots to," She paused trying to find the correct term. "Experience it."
The bespectacled blonde researcher turned, surprise in her eyes. "He was…the one?"
Lisa turned back, crossed her arms, stared down at the lump of white fur resting in her lap. "Yes, he was. I didn't mention his name in my thesis. Said He didn't want me to…because…because of the vulgarity of what happened."
Unnoticed by the two women, the young girl stole a sideway's glance towards the former gunship pilot. Gulliver noticed, raised an eye, lowered it, went back to sleep.
"Vulgarity," Sonja exclaimed, as, engines roaring, the flyer leapt down the runway and up into the air. Waiting until the craft had leveled off she continued. "From what I heard it was a real massacre."
Lisa stroked Gulliver, the animal cooing softly in her lap. "That's putting it mildly. I think that there was something like thirty different body parts pulled out of the foot, ankle and hand joints. A real bloody mess." She looked up towards the front of the cabin, her blue eyes taking on a faraway look. "It took Marcus almost three hours to talk him out of the cockpit."
"Oh my Lisa, that's terrible."
"That it was. Even Marcus was a little shook up about it." She turned back towards Sonja. "And that coming from a man I've seen covered from head to toe in other people's blood and body tissue."
"I see," Sonja softly said. "Well, speaking of body tissue, I hope that we can get something out of that spike thing Commander Novak recovered from the creature at the blast sight." Reaching down underneath her seat, the blonde pulled out a metal cylinder.
Lisa looked back up at the naked form of the TypeTheEND. Smiling she thought back to the day in the lab that had brought her up to this point.
Having cut a cross-section of the object, placing it on a glass slide, Lisa was intently staring through the twin lenses of one of the Tresor Research Labs optical microscopes minutely twisting on the fine adjustment knob, the image of the sample slowly coming into sharp focus. Looking through the finely ground glass ocular lens Lisa suddenly realized that she had seen a similar sample somewhere before.
Looking up from the microscope Lisa called out across the lab. "Hey Sonja come here and have a look at this,"
"What is it," Sonja had asked from where she was also looking through the lenses of another microscope.
"I'm not really sure." Lisa said. "It looks…" She paused. "…Familiar,"
Sonja looked up. "Nani!"
The former gunship pilot crinkled her nose. "I'm being serious. Come here,"
"I was being serious," Sonja said as she got up from her desk and made her way over to her research partner. Adjusting her glasses she sat down and looked through the scope. Adjusting the focus she looked at the sample for a while. Finally she said. "Well now…this is…interesting. Very interesting. Hold on a sec," Getting up Sonja walked back to her station. Picking up a couple of glass slides she held them up to the light. Setting one of the glass slides back down at her workstation, she walked back over and reaching down pulled the sample taken from the spike out of the microscope placing the one from her desk onto the object holder.
Looking back down through the eyepiece for a moment Sonja muttered. "I…I can't…its just…incredible," She stood, turned towards the former gunship pilot. "Look at this and tell me what you see."
"Okay," Lisa looked through the eyepiece. "Looks the same." Bringing her head up she asked. "Where is this sample from?"
"Not where, but who," Sonja smiled and pulled the glass slide out from the metal arms. "You won't believe it," She said as she handed the slide to Lisa who held it up to the light.
"Sugoi!" Lisa exclaimed her blue eyes wide, the name on the sample spelled out in red permanent marker, the letters written all in caps by the blonde haired bespectacled researcher.
EUREKA: BLOOD SAMPLE OO7.
Standing in the large hanger, looking down at her hand Lisa caught a slight glimmer from the diamond set in the middle of the engagement ring. Shoulders slumping, she sighed…Marcus, my love, I'm so sorry…Lisa looked back up at the headless form of the TypeTheEND…It's just that once we confirmed that Eureka and the creature that appeared out of the blast crater shared what was basically the same blood type…
She allowed her thoughts to trail off into the darkness beyond the naked hanging form of the archetype.
Lisa frowned. She and Marcus hadn't seen much of each other these past few months since the failed assassination attempt on the female Sage. What with him training a new S.O.F. Unit and her unraveling bit by bit the DNA code contained in the samples taken from the creature and the girl, there simply hadn't been much time for each other.
"I guess we'll just have to be patient," The Master Instructor had told her during one of their brief conversations by phone. "I don't want to come between you and your project," He had said. "I know that it is very important to you, so don't sweat it. We'll set a date when you are ready, okay my love?"
The former gunship pilot smiled. She loved Marcus with all her heart, that she knew, but this new discovery had driven her in her pursuit to find a way to create another pilot in the same likeness as, how her fiancé had put it, the one born out of the earth.
How ironic…She thought…that the creature, a Coralian Doctor Egan had called it, shared the same cell structure as Eureka. The girl, so child-like in her view, was an almost direct opposite of the star shaped Coralian that had so viciously attacked the EOD team.
Lisa furrowed her brows together as a sudden realization came over her…It was almost as if the creature wasn't so much attacking the team as it was protecting the growth of new Scub awakened by the blast of the anti-warship missile. Not unlike how our own body attacks foreign germs around a cut or scrape.
It wasn't long after her discovery of the similarities between the girl and the creature that she had began to synthesize a serum in the hopes of what was to be the beginning of reconfiguring the genetic structure of her test subject.
She huffed, crossed her arms. Of course she had to figure out a way to bring Anemone out of the stupor…A look of desperation Marcus had called it in the hospital room as he lay in bed next to a young boy…otherwise what good would she be if they managed to restructure her DNA to that of the girl if she was in a half comatose state. She silently prayed that the serum would be the first step in what was projected to be a long, arduous process.
Lisa looked up again at the headless form of the TypeTheEND, her gaze lingering on the dark gap where the head would be, came to rest on the bulbous shape behind the gap, where, at least on the TypeZERO, the cockpit was located. She narrowed her eyes. The tissue samples taken from the TypeTheEND and TypeZERO were almost as indistinguishable from each other as the blood samples taken from the Coralian and Eureka. Almost as if the two archetypes were related in some bizarre way, like twins.
"Soon," She began. "Soon I'll have a suitable pilot for you, and then…" She paused, looked down at the ring on her finger, back up to the archetype. "Then we can continue on with what Adrock started,"
"LISA!"
Sonja's excited shout echoed within the hanger. Lisa turned. "What, what is it?"
The blonde researcher ran up to her and through breathless gasp said. "It's Anemone."
"Nani?"
Sonja adjusted her glasses. "It worked. She's out of it."
The two women quickly turned and started to run out of the hanger when Lisa stopped suddenly and looked back towards the TypeTheEND.
"What's wrong?" Sonja stopped and asked.
Lisa shook her head. "Nothing. I just felt as if…" Lisa focused on the bulb shaped cockpit. "It's nothing. Never mind. Let's go."
As the women walked out closing the hanger door behind them, hidden within the thorax shaped cockpit, three sets of eyes silently watched, blinked once then closed, receding back into the archetype's milky white skin.
"I WANT TO GO BACK!"
"A penny for your thoughts, Major?"
Lowering his head then slowly glancing to his right, a smile forming on his lips, the two standing on a hill, not really a hill but an older up-cropping of Scab, the ground covered in green grass just like every other "hill" in the distance Marcus had pointed out, wearing his customary pants, shirt, black hat and a black fleece "operators" jacket, brown eyes covered by dark colored sunglasses, the Master Instructor remarked to the young female Information Officers observation.
"Only worth a penny, huh?"
Her hand on her hip, the other holding a clipboard, wearing what could only be described as a grey colored one-piece flight suit, at least that is what Marcus chose to think of it as…Did that come in a spray can, he humorously thought…clad also in a black fleece jacket, hazel colored eyes also covered in a pair of dark colored sunglasses, her black short cropped hair blowing in the cool autumn breeze, 2nd Lieutenant Talho Yuki, smiling back at the older man replied.
"Well…maybe a nickel then."
"I guess that is better than nothing Lieutenant…Snow."
"Roger that…" Talho paused; still smiling she turned looking back out at the field of green. "…Mr. Green."
Laughing out loud Marcus reached over keying the mic on the portable transmitter/receiver attached to a loop on his jacket. "Go ahead and send the targets out."
"Yes sir!" A young male voice replied.
"Better get ready Lieutenant, ears on."
"Ryoukai, Major!"
Watching as Talho started stuffing the foamy earplugs into her ears…Ryoukai, Has Talho been talking to Lisa…the Master Instructor thought back over the past six months and shaking his head side to side muttered. "Only a nickel…"
Switching a knob on top of the portable transmitter/receiver Marcus called up the middle walker. "Ok Chief, we're all set. You all buttoned up in there?"
The TypeALPHA's chief tech's voice immediately came through the small mic. "All set Major. Tell them to give her hell!"
Placing his own set of earplugs securely in place as five, four legged mobile gun platforms lumbered out into the middle of the sea of green grass in the distance, four of the units under remote operation, the fifth being expertly piloted by Chief Taylor…the platforms having been decommissioned all their armaments removed, the units moving in a diamond formation, the gun platform in the middle sporting a red flag, the cloth whipping in the cool autumn breeze from the end of a long whip antenna…and glancing around one final time, the Tower City State that the new base of operations for his new team, Team Seven as it had been dubbed, called home overlooking the surrounding hills and valleys, the town of Bellforest having grown up around the immense structure, satisfied that all was in place Marcus glanced down at the watch on his left wrist and reached over and keyed the small mic one final time, a single word coming out of his mouth.
"Execute..."
Sitting in the pilot's seat of the Nirvash, the LFO crouched behind one of the green hills cradling an 80MM Rifle, Eureka looked across to the empty copilot's cockpit and patiently waited, just as Marcus had told her to. As she sat there listening through her wrap-around headset for the signal to begin today's training operation, the girl thought back, unseen hands flipping through the many once blank pages of her mind.
Unconsciously reaching up, her pale fingers touched the gold choker "ring" fastened around her slender neck, a gift that the Master Instructor had given her for her "Birthday", the girl cocked her head to the side.
"It's the day that you were born," Marcus had told her as he hugged her tight, "Adrock was supposed to give this to you Eureka." He had softly whispered into her ear, a flood of strange, new emotions almost overwhelming her as she quietly stood along with Holland in the immense hanger that used to be home to the S.O.F. detachment holding the velvet covered box in her small hands.
"Adrock…Adrock was supposed to…give this to me?" She had asked the Master Instructor.
The girl frowned and pulled her hand away from the golden ring. "Marcus…" She whispered. "…You care…you care for me just like…"
"Eureka, you ready?" Holland suddenly asked, his image appearing on the Nirvash's cockpit HUD to her right.
Flipping her mind forward, back to the present, unseen hands poised over the blank pages, Eureka quickly acknowledged. "Yes…yes I am Holland."
Smiling back at her he replied. "Ok, just making sure."
"Thank you Holland."
"Hey! Don't I get any love?" Edward asked, his image appearing to her left.
"Why? Are you not…loved?" The girl asked lavender eyes wide, the tone of her voice dry, unemotional.
"Is that a joke?" The Assistant Instructor excitingly asked. "Are you telling me a joke, Eureka?"
"Ok you two, listen up. It's almost time," Holland gruffly said. Glancing one final time at the girl Holland abruptly killed the video feed.
A puzzled look on his face, Edward smartly replied. "Roger that Commander, shutting up."
What is wrong with Holland…Eureka thought as Edward cut the communications link, his face disappearing as quickly as it had appeared…Holland…is Holland not happy with me? Did I do something to make him…angry?
Suddenly the hiss of a coms channel being opened echoed through her wrap around head set, the single word reverberating in her ears as the hands began writing on the blank pages in the mind of the girl.
"Execute…"
"How's my honey bunny?"
Her hands lightly at the controls of the gunship, the strain of the engines causing the craft to shake as she expertly kept the lethal aircraft hovering on the invisible waves of trappar, the green glow of the ethereal waves periodically streaming off the leading edges of the wings of the small craft as it lay hidden behind the hill opposite the three LFO's, Ray Beams flipped the switch on the HOTAS.
"Charles, please, not now, it's almost time."
"Sorry my lovely wife to be, I just couldn't resist." Charles gleefully replied over the ship's private communications channel, his face in the middle of the gunships consol. "You just look so cute sitting there."
"You'll think cute if you screw this up." Ray replied, cutting her eyes at her soon to be husband. "Just watch yourself, I don't trust her and that," Her stomach contracted.
"…thing she calls the Nirvash."
"Don't worry yourself my love." Charles looked over to his right speaking to someone just outside the picture. "Roger that, extract team all strapped in and standing by." Looking back into the camera he continued. "We're all set back here. Love you!"
Smiling back at the burly man, Ray responded. "Love you too, just be careful, I don't want Major Marcus yelling at you!"
Charles flashed her a devilish grin. "Don't worry babe, in and out. No problem!"
Killing the internal feed she turned her head. "Extraction team all set Major, standing by!"
Strapped into the seat behind her, Major Kenneth Lennon, grey eyes shining brightly replied. "Excellent."
Just then a burst of static as the Master Instructors voice came across the com.
"Execute…"
What is wrong with me…Holland thought as he reached down and cut the feed between his Nine-Zero-Nine, Edward's One-Zero-One and the TypeZERO, the three LFO's crouched down behind the old up cropping of Scab that the Master Instructor and Team Seven's Information Officer were standing on…Why I am so upset at…Marcus whenever I see him around Eureka, I mean SHE chose me, right…
…RIGHT?
His hand curled up into a fist.
Surprised at the ferocity of his own thoughts Holland took a deep breath, slowly letting it out, calming his emotions.
"No extraneous thoughts." He said out loud, remembering a phrase the Master Instructor had said to his Academy class during one of the many lectures. "Stray thoughts get you killed." I have got to get a grip…Holland thought just as Marcus voice broke across the coms link.
"Execute…"
His hands on the controls of his Terminus, Holland briefly thought…I really should talk to him…
Gripping the controls tighter…knuckles turning white…he triggered the boosters as his mind screamed out louder than the twin plumes of flame rocketing him up and out from behind the green hill…
Eureka…Picked…ME!
As the four-legged walking tanks lumbered out into the firing line, Marcus felt a slight tremor and turned just in time to see the simultaneous launching of the three LFO's that were hidden just behind his and Talho's position.
"Better hang onto your hair, Lieutenant!" The Master Instructor yelled out as the trio shot over the two of them with Eureka in the center, Holland in his Nine-Zero-Nine on her right, Edward's One-Zero-One to the left.
Ducking down, clutching the clipboard tightly to her chest, her other hand going up to cover the top of her head, the Information Bureau Liaison to the S.O.F. Unit shouted back. "Watch out!"
Marcus looked at her, shouted back. "Exactly!"
Talho looked up at him a puzzled look in her hazel eyes. "What?"
Laughing the Master Instructor turned his attention back to where the Walkers were lumbering along, the unmanned armored gun-platforms oblivious to the fact that they were being lined up in the center of three sets of optical sights.
The air was suddenly abuzz with the deep throated popping as Holland and Edward triggered their 80MM cannon, the ground around the four gun platforms erupting in flashes of dirt and brilliant sparks as the projectiles hit home, the HEAP rounds boring through the thick armor and exploding inside the empty gun turrets.
Inside the middle gun platform Taylor grimaced and gritted his teeth, the sound as chunks of armor being shot off the other four walkers banging loudly against the thick plating of his charge, the unarmed four-legged tank shaking as the S.O.F. Team quickly dispatched the targets. Sidestepping around the smoldering hulk of one of the remotes the Diva let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on and capture me,"
"Ok, you're all clear Eureka," Edward's voice, calm and clear resounded in the girls wrap-around headset. "The princes is all yours."
Eureka leaned forward in the cockpit, her lavender eyes narrowing slightly as she targeted the front leg of the red-flagged walking platform, the TypeZERO's HUD painting it in shades of red, the leg outlined in yellow. "Careful Nirvash," the girl whispered to the archetype. "We don't want to hurt the…princess," Glancing one final time at the HUD, Eureka triggered the 80MM cannon.
The girl counted out loud as the sound of the auto-cannon roared unleashing a deadly torrent of high explosive/armor piercing rounds, the vibrations transferred through the TypeZERO's armored frame and up and into the pilots' seat tickling at her spine. "One-thousand-one…One-thousand-two…" Her finger came off the trigger.
Marcus smiled as the TypeZERO flew over the target, the right leading leg of Taylor's walker exploding in a shower of armor and control cables, the tank lurching forward as it slammed into the ground. "Perfect two second burst," Switching the knob on his transmitter/receiver he asked. "Chief, you ok in there?"
The Diva replied. "Didn't even feel a thing. She nailed it right where the joint connects. Perfect hit!"
The Master Instructor looked over at his I.B. Officer and nodded in satisfaction.
"Direct hit, Major," Talho mouthed and smiled.
Holland watched as the TypeZERO pulled away from the stricken gun platform. "Good job Eureka." Bringing the Nine-Zero-Nine around he dove towards the disabled walker. "Target down…two coming in…covering right,"
"Two coming in," Edward repeated as he too dove in towards the sprawled out walking gun-platform. "Covering left…Extract team stand-by,"
Lennon settled back into his seat as Ray responded. "I copy…standing by," Looking over her shoulder she grinned. "Hang on sir,"
Lennon matched her grin. "You know it,"
The ground shook as Edward and Holland reached down and pulling up on the ends of their ref-boards, spilling out huge waves of trappar, quickly halted their dives, and throwing the huge boards out from underfoot, the magnetic locks disengaging from metal shod feet, the Nine-Zero-Nine and One-Zero-One landed and kneeling down, placing their boards alongside the extended legs of the LFO's, took up defensive positions on either side of the disabled walker, the smoking barrels of their 80MM cannon swinging back and forth as they covered down the area directly in front of them.
"Clear right!" Holland bit out.
Edward's response immediately followed. "Clear left! All clear topside?"
Twisting the HOTAS slowly to the left, the TypeZERO cutting a bright green circular arch in the airspace above the downed target, Eureka looked out and down at the area around the disabled gun-platform. "All clear topside." She responded.
"I copy all clear topside," Holland acknowledged. "Drop zone clear!"
Tightening his stomach muscles, Lennon grunted out. "GO!"
Ray gritted her teeth as she gunned the engines, the gunship shooting almost straight up into the air from behind the hill. Banking hard to the right she dropped the craft down aiming right at the downed walker.
"Ok, get ready," Charles yelled out to the five other heavily armed and armored extraction team members as they checked one last time that all their gear was securely strapped and tightened down, each man clutching a refboard to his chest as the craft began its controlled descent towards the ground.
Feeling her stomach as it tried to come out her throat, straightening the craft out Ray calmly spoke into her microphone. "Coming in hot, extraction team…stand by in three…two…ONE!"
Pulling back hard on the control stick, the gunship shuddering in protest, Ray stood the craft on its tail almost directly over the target as six green tendrils extended out from behind the aft end of the ship as Charles and the extraction team combat dropped out and riding on the ethereal energy shot quickly towards the walker.
Lennon, monitoring the extraction team from a tele-viewer mounted in the aft end of the gunship, excitingly shouted out. "They're all clear, punch it!"
Continuing her holding pattern high up above Eureka watched as the gunship shot out from the drop zone, the ship cutting a path through the rippling waves of trappar as it accelerated up and away. Turning her attention back to the red-flagged walker she cocked her head to the side and bringing up the magnification on the TypeZERO's HUD, watched as Charles and the five other men descended upon the disabled walking tank quickly pulling Chief Taylor up and out of the cockpit depositing the big man face first onto the ground.
The Diva laughed as Charles' men swiftly searched him and standing him up, bound his hands to his front. "Oh baby, that's what I'm talking about!"
Ignoring him, Charles glanced down at his watch as one of the extraction team members pulled out a harness and began putting it on the TypeALPHA's Chief Tech under the watchful eyes and guns of the other team members. "Twenty seconds," He told them.
"Make sure you tighten down the leg straps," Taylor pointed out as the man finished strapping the harness on his huge frame.
The man grinned as he tightened the leg straps. "I thought you liked a little pain, Chief?"
"True darling, but I'm not in the mood to have my family jewels crushed today." The Diva deadpanned.
The man grinned knowingly, nodded and turned towards Charles. "All set, target secured."
Shaking his head Charles smiled. "Good job. Less than thirty seconds." Looking at Taylor he asked. "You ready to take a little ride on the wild side Chief?"
The Diva smiled. "Sure, why not."
"All right," Charles reached over his back pulling a coiled rope out of a pack laying it on the ground at his feet, one end of the rope terminating in a steel "D" shaped ring that he attached to an oval ring located on the back of the harness that the team had so swiftly strapped onto the big Chief Tech. Picking up a length of the rope he said. "Hang on, here goes. Give them the signal,"
The man who had tightened the leg straps knelt down and pulled out a small pen shaped device with a silver cylinder with a red cap attached to one end of it from one of the pouches on his CiRaS assault vest. Holding it up over his head and pulling down on a black lever located just below the cylinder with a gloved thumb and releasing it, shot a red flare up into the sky.
"There's the signal. Eureka,"
Holding the Nirvash in a tight turn over the drop zone, leaning over looking out the left side of the cockpit, arching an eyebrow, the girl responded to Holland, his face projected on the right side of the TypeZERO's canopy HUD. "I can see it Holland…Chief Beams, stand by,"
Charles looked up into the clear blue sky finding the grey shape of the TypeZERO as the girl began executing what appeared to be the beginnings of, at least to his experienced eyes as a refboarder, a cut-back-drop-turn maneuver. "I copy, standing by." Then speaking to his team and captured princess continued saying. "Ok, get the cable ready. Chief hang onto your butt, here she comes,"
The diva smiled big. "Oh honey, you'd better believe it,"
Feeling the warmth of the sun on her face as she pointed the tip of the TypeZERO's board straight up into the sky, Eureka tightened her "tummy" muscles as the force of the sudden maneuver tried to push her blood away from her head. Pausing for a moment right at the apex of the aerial, she twisted the HOTAS all the way to the left and pulled back hard, the Nirvash responding by extending both arms out and twisting its torso, rotating the huge refboard one-hundred-eighty degrees, pointed the tip right at the walker and group of men gathered there and catching an upward rising wave of trappar caused by the initial move, dove down towards the ground.
"Perfect," Marcus commented as Eureka came out of the trick, the TypeZERO awash in the ethereal green energy as it shot down towards its target.
Amazing…Ray thought as she brought the gunship around lining the nose up almost directly behind the TypeZERO.
"Quite," Lennon quietly remarked behind her.
Ray's eyes widened. She hadn't realized that she had verbalized her thoughts. "Sorry sir,"
Lennon shook his head, gray eyes following the green trail of trappar left by the TypeZERO's wake. "It's ok, I find it hard to believe myself," He leaned back into his seat, thinking…Marcus, my friend, you most certainly have your hands full with this one. "Ok, let's follow her in and extract Chief Beams and his team."
Ray nodded, her hands already manipulating the controls, the gunship diving down into the waves.
"She's bringing that thing in pretty fast, don't cha think Chief?" The man who had helped Taylor tighten down the harness straps asked.
Charles turned his mouth upwards in a grin. "Naw, looks fine to me. You'd had better made sure that Chief's harness is on tight, this is going to be quick!" Picking up one end of the rope, handing it to the man he shouted out. "Ok get ready! Everyone else…security wheel, boards in hand!"
Taking the end, the man and Charles ran out away from the walker and stretched the line out while the remaining men formed a circle, the barrels of their weapons out, refboards tucked up tight between armpits and the collapsible stocks of their HK-416's.
"Line up!" Charles ordered. Raising their arms up above their heads and keeping the line taught…the center of the length of rope they held marked by a bright yellow flag…both men turned to see as the TypeZERO dove in on them.
Mouth a straight line, lavender colored eyes focused on the slip of brightly colored cloth, left hand gently resting on the finger control studs of the HOTAS, Eureka smoothly brought the Nirvash in line with the yellow mark, the grey colored LFO crouching down, left arm outstretched.
Taylor swallowed hard and took a deep breath as the metal clad hand of the TypeZERO, its fingers enclosing the yellow flag, snapped shut.
As Beams and the man holding the other end of the rope stepped back, the Diva watched as the coiled length of rope quickly played out. "OH SHIII…" He began as the last length uncoiled, the dynamic nylon line momentarily stretching out absorbing the Chief techs weight, then away he went, straight up into the air.
Beams was laughing out-loud. "Did you see that," He gestured towards where the TypeZERO was fading off into the distance towards the hill where the Master Instructor and his Information Bureau Liaison where watching the exercise. "Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire." Composing himself he turned to see the gunship bearing down on his team. "Ok, crew. Lets blow this popsicle stand."
Lennon leaned forward slightly, looking over the raven haired pilots shoulder. "Good, she extracted him…Get ready,"
Ray grinned as she smoothly brought the ship in. "Already on it…Bay door open, net up?" She asked.
Lennon leaned back. "Bay door open, net up."
"Team on wave…NOW!" Charles yelled as he threw his refboard underfoot, the rest of the unit following suite, the front of the gunship gaping open ready to swallow the heavily armed and armored figures up.
Marcus watched as the team shot out in front of the gunship and one by one, disappeared into the open bay. Smiling he recalled how it felt all those many times before as his body landed safely in the catch net strung up inside the bay of some gunship after having been extracted in similar fashion.
"Team all recovered," Lennon's voice crackled over the Master Instructors mic.
Holland took one more glance covering down his area of responsibility. "Team recovered…Moving out!"
"Moving out!" Edward repeated as he started pulling back on both of the One-Zero-One's HOTAS simultaneously mashing the accelerator to the floorboard with his right foot, the archetype feeling the manual inputs through bundled nerves as a signal for it to reach back, pick up the refboard, stand up and slightly flexing its knees…the Assistant Instructor completing the sequence by dropping his right hand down to the gear shifter, left foot engaging the clutch pedal, shifted down…and engaging it rear boosters, bellows of white smoke momentarily obscuring it from view, leapt up into the air.
White teeth bared in a grin Holland, having just completed the same set of inputs, felt the magnetic locks engage, and leaning back into the acceleration couch, coaxed his Nine-Zero-Nine into a steep climb up and out away from the smoking hulks of the destroyed gun platforms.
"Here they come," Marcus said. Keeping his eyes on the Nine-Zero-Nine, he reached down to the watch. "And…MARK!"
Talho turned towards him. "Time?"
The Master Instructor smiled. "Four minutes, forty-nine seconds,"
Lisa quietly stood outside one of the Tresor Research Facilities observation rooms, the room a facsimile of a typical hospital rest and recovery ward.
The room was darkened, she knew, the lights turned out during the nighttime hours to give its occupant a respite from the prying eyes intently maintaining a twenty-four hour vigil watching from just on the other side of the large two way mirror that dominated the wall directly opposite the foot of the bed.
Of all days she would have to pick this one to be difficult…Lisa thought…It would figure, the one time we get a surprise visit from some stuffed shirt officer.
A male orderly put a key into the door. "Are sure you want to go in there by yourself, Ma'am?" He nervously asked.
Staring at the door, she told the man. "Just open it. We don't want to keep that visiting staff officer waiting."
"Yes Ma'am," The man turned the key and opened the door.
Stepping into the room Lisa slowly inhaled, her shoulders relaxing, arms falling to their natural position, hands just below her waist, the former gunship pilot's senses on high…
"And how are you this morning, Anemone," Lisa cautiously asked. "You have an important visitor here to see you,"
…just in case.
"We'll be right out here if you need us, Ma'am." The orderly anxiously said just before he shut the door behind her, the sound of the lock as it clicked going no farther into the room then the female researcher.
She didn't acknowledge, but instead concentrated on the area directly in front of her, eyes adjusting to the dark.
Well…Lisa thought as the outline of the bed came into dim focus…bed's not been slept in, again.
She took a measured step. "So honey, did you not sleep well?" Another step. "Was it the nightmares again?" Her eyes came to rest on a small mound at the foot of the bed, two white orbs popping out of the darkness. "Gulliver missed having you in bed to keep him warm,"
Lisa started to reach back for the light switch when she heard it…
…barely audible…
"…Sniff…"
…from the corner…
"…Sniff…"
…off to her right.
Lisa froze, her muscles tensing, fingers hovering just centimeters from the light switch. "Anemone?"
A whispered voice. "Why…why did…you…"
"Anemone, I'm going to turn on the light now, ok sweetie,"
The voice began to increase in volume. "...I want…I want to go back…"
Oh man, this isn't going to be good…The gunship pilot noted the slight change in the young girls voice inflection, took another deep breath, preparing herself…
…Switching gears.
"Lisa," An electronically amplified female voice suddenly echoed into the room. "She's crouching in the corner,"
Good grief, not now Sonja… Lisa thought as the young girls voice…
…a shrill wail now…
"I…WANT…"
….exploded from out of the darkened observation room.
"…TO…GO…BACK!"
"You've got to be kidding," Marcus said into the phone as he leaned back in his chair in his new office.
Housed in the main building of the small Federation outpost…the same site that was formerly utilized by Adrock Thurston, the base located a few miles outside the town of Belforest that Team Seven now called home…the Master Instructor looked up at the white-washed ceiling and rolled his eyes in disgust.
"What do you mean; you don't have the right tools anymore? You're an engineer, YOU ALWAYS KEEP THOSE KIND OF THINGS LYING AROUND, DON'T YOU?" Marcus shouted out the last words startling everyone who was quietly seated in his office.
Eyes widening Eureka cautiously glanced over towards Holland, who was also somewhat startled by the Master Instructors uncharacteristic outburst of emotion. She started to ask Holland a question, but he saw and shook his head side to side.
The girl frowned and turned looking back at Marcus who had pulled the phone away from his ear as the sound of someone yelling back, loud even through the tiny speaker in the handset, echoed in the small office.
"OF COURSE I DO! WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM, AN IDIOT?" There was a brief pause followed by a sound similar to the growling noise made by the Master Instructor, albeit higher pitched. The man on the phone continued his rant. "THAT EQUIPMENT COST MONEY AND THAT, IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW, DOES'NT GROW ON TREES!"
Edward smirked. "Sounds like you pissed him off…again."
Marcus frowned and narrowed his eyes. Covering the transmitter he told him. "Yeah, not that hard to do," Putting the handset back to his ear, Marcus continued talking to the person on the other end. "Ok, ok, sorry. But I still need to see about getting another refboard made,"
Holland leaned back in his chair. Crossing his arms he looked over towards where Edward was standing, his back against the wall of the small office. "Who is he talking to?"
Sitting in the chair directly across from Marcus's desk, Eureka glanced at Holland who was seated next to the open door of the office, and then back over up at the Master Instructors Assistant.
As Edward started to laugh she furrowed her brows, thin lips pursed together.
"That, Commander Holland is the only man," The Assistant Instructor paused taking a deep breath, and gesturing in the air with his hands for emphases continued. "THE ONLY MAN," He laughed again. "Whom I've ever seen, put you-know-who in his place," Edward raised his brows and pointed at Marcus, who was still talking.
"Yes, just like the first one," The Master Instructor looked directly at Eureka, who was still frowning, and winking at her, his emotions back under control, continued telling the man on the phone. "A Hobie Tri-fin,"
Eureka tilted her head to the side in her customary inquisitively manner when Marcus suddenly frowned, and furrowing his eyebrows together started phonetically spelling out what he had just said.
"Hobie Tri-fin…Hotel…Oscar…Bravo…In…" He grimaced, pulling the phone away from his ear, the voice on the other end roaring.
"I'M NOT DEAF." That snorting noise again. "I CAN SPELL JUST FINE. AS A MATTER OF FACT WHY DON'T YOU DRAG YOUR SORRY…"
Marcus roared back. "WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE OLD MAN, THERE'S CHILDREN LISTENING!"
The voice on the phone yelled out. "FINE, JUST GET OVER TO MY SHOP. AND BRING THAT BLANKETY BLANK MACHINE WITH YOU. GOODBYE!"
The Master Instructor sat the phone down. "Good grief, I swear that man," He leaned back taking a deep, cleansing breath and shaking his head smiled as he exhaled. "Wow, well, who wants to take a ride up to the Old Man's garage with me today?"
"It's all you," Edward quickly pointed out. Pulling his lighter out of his front pants pocket he continued. "I'm supposed to go over the after action report on today's exercise with Major Lennon,"
"Typical," Marcus remarked. "Don't set yourself on fire too much, those things will kill you, you know." Looking over at Holland he asked. "What about you, Commander, care to meet 'The Man who put you-know-who in his place'?"
Holland put his hands up. "Oh, no. I don't want to be at ground zero when you two try and split the atom," He chuckled.
Marcus and Edward started laughing.
"That's good," Edward pointed out. "You're getting it."
"That right," The Master Instructor stood. "Got to learn to laugh, right Eureka?"
The girl tilted her head to the other side. "Why did the man on the phone need to watch his language? I understand English quite well,"
"Anemone, calm down," Lisa calmly spoke into the blackness.
"I…WANT…TO…GO…BACK!"
"Lisa, watch out, she's getting ready to…" Sonja blurted out.
"Kuso!" The gunship pilot cursed as the sound of someone moving onto the bed…the mattress springs creaking under the weight, the sound as loud as an engine roaring in her ear…registered to her heightened senses.
"Lisa, she's up on the bed…watch out!"
Closing her eyes, Lisa flipped the switch, the darkness retreating away in a flash of light, the young girl caught in the glare, the abruptness of the overhead lights coming on momentarily disorienting her from jumping off the bed and onto the gunship pilot turned researcher…
…only a moment…
…but it was all the time Raven needed.
"Anemone…" Lisa snapped out, her voice sharp and full of authority as she crouched slightly and moving faster than almost everyone behind the two-way mirror watching thought possible…
"…I need you to…"
…covered the short distance between the door and the bed grabbing the young girl by her right wrist, which Anemone had placed on the top of the mattress, and before she could react Lisa reached up with her left hand lightly smacking the young girl across her face turning her head away causing waves of strawberry colored hair to slap the gunship pilot across her face as well.
"…CALM DOWN!"
Anemone yelped in surprise from the light palm-heel strike as Sonja's voice shrieked through the speaker. "LISA! WHAT THE HELL…"
Ignoring her research partner, Lisa continued on with the technique. Maintaining her hold on the girls wrist she brought her right hand up towards her left quickly intertwining her and the young girls arm in an arm lock. Grabbing onto her right wrist with her left, Lisa twisted her hips flopping Anemone onto her back on top of the bed.
"Anemone, I need you to relax, please!" Raven calmly, but firmly said.
"NO…NO…NO…I WANT TO GO…BACK!" The young girl sobbed, and then turning her head, deviously smiled at the researcher.
"Anemone, DON'T!" Lisa, catching the look in her eye, warned as Anemone lifted her head and tried to bite at the hands that held her wrist.
"STOP IT!" Lisa continued to give verbal task directions and stepping back…I'm sorry sweetie…yanked the young girl clean off the bed dropping her onto the hard floor, knocking the wind from her.
Gulliver was fully awake now and got up on all fours, growling and hissing at the two from the foot of the bed.
Sonja continued to shout through the intercom. "LISA HAYASE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?"
"STOP RESISTING," Raven shouted as the young girl, eyes wide tears streaming down her cheeks, continued trying to squirm out of the arm lock.
"SEND ME BACK…I DON'T…WANT…I DON'T…WANT…TO…MISS IT!" Anemone shrieked kicking her legs frantically.
"I…SAID…STOP…RESISTING!" Lisa yelled as she squatted down over the top of the young girl pulling the captured wrist up slightly putting Anemone briefly on her side taking away her ability to kick at her. "Over," Lisa said more calmly as she levered Anemone onto her stomach.
"…NO…NO…NO..!" Anemone continued wailing.
"DOCTOR HAYASE!"
Lisa turned her head towards the two-way mirror, her blue eyes on fire. "Sonja, would you shut up and get in here." She snapped. "And bring me four-hundred cc's worth of the serum."
"Roger that," Sonja curtly replied as the man who had locked the door, along with another man quickly came in.
"What the…" One of the men said, the two of them standing there staring at the female researcher.
I shouldn't have worn a skirt today…"Grab her legs," Lisa commanded the first man. "You, come around and hold her other arm straight out, but be careful, don't hurt her."
The man reached down and grabbed Anemone's free arm. "Got it."
"Good," Lisa relaxed her hold. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I didn't want to see you get hurt," She looked at the men helping her hold Anemone down, both their arms and faces scratched and scarred, the man holding onto the young girls legs sporting a black eye. "Not like last time, ok."
The young girl continued spitting. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL..."
"Calm down miss," The man that held her arm gruffly said as he struggled to keep the young girl from pulling her arm away from him.
Lisa shot him a stern look. "Everyone relax. Sonja, where are you? I need you in here now!"
"I'm right here," Sonja said as she ran into the room. "Four-hundred cc's." Kneeling down she swabbed Anemones outstretched arm with an alcohol swab. "Think it'll be enough?"
Lisa shook her head as the bespectacled blonde researcher injected the thick red liquid into the young girls arm. "I certainly hope so,"
"I'm sorry," Anemone began sobbing, the fight beginning to go out of her. "I'm…sorry, I just don't want to miss it,"
"It's ok, Anemone, just calm down," Feeling the young girl beginning to relax Lisa released the lock. "It's working. Here, help me lift her onto the bed."
"Yes Ma'am," The man holding onto the young girls legs said.
Together the three of them lifted Anemone's body up, placing her gently on the bed.
"Don't let me miss it, please," The young girl said as she slowly succumbed to the effects of the serum. Closing her eyes she drifted off into a fitful slumber as Gulliver, who had calmed down, made his way over and looking up at Lisa, huffing at her, curled up next to his master.
Lisa reached up pulling the strawberry colored locks out of Anemones face as Sonja checked her for any injuries. Leaning forward, Lisa whispered in her ear. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll make sure that you don't miss the bus, ok." She glanced over at Sonja. "Is she going to be ok?"
Sonja straightened, adjusted her glasses and looked her black haired colleague in the eye. "Although it looked pretty serious from where our visitor and I were standing, there's not a scratch on her, but man, Jeeze Lisa. It looked like you were going to break her in half or something," Shaking her head, she pulled out a small flashlight. Leaning forward Sonja gently opened Anemone's left eyelid.
Lisa let out a breath, her muscles unwinding, the rush of the adrenaline dump washing over her. Gently stroking the white animal on the head she quietly said. "Wakatta,"
"That was pretty impressive," The man with the black eye commented.
"That's right," The other one remarked. "I don't think that I've ever seen techniques like that before."
Lisa started to respond, but before she could Sonja let out a surprised gasp.
"Lisa…You need to see…oh my,"
"If you would please excuse us," Lisa bowed slightly towards the two men. "Arigato gozaimas,"
The two men turned, one asking the other as they walked out the door. "What was she saying,"
"Not a clue, but damn, those move's," Elbowing his comrade he whispered. "She could mop the floor with me anytime,"
"What is it Sonja," Lisa turned straightening out her skirt, and buttoning up her lab coat continued saying. "I didn't mean to snap at you…"
Sonja stood there, her mouth half open, a look of disbelief on her face. "Her…eyes, look at her eyes," She handed the light over.
Taking the light Lisa sat down next Gulliver. Leaning over she pried open the young girls eye lid.
She let out a sharp breath. "Nani des ka?"
Holding the light over Anemone's eye, flashing it across a couple of times, the former gunship pilot turned researcher, looked up at her friend.
Sonja shrugged her shoulders at her colleagues dumbfounded look. "It must be the serum,"
The two women turned looking up at their reflection in the large mirror.
Seated behind the two-way glass-having observed everything that had just transpired, one hand stroking at his chin, combination cover resting on a crossed knee-having come to Tresor Research Facilities to check on the status of Project Omega…
…I see you haven't forgotten any of Marcus's teachings Warrant Officer Hayase…
…Lieutenant Colonel Dewey Novak smiled.
"How's this feel sir. Too tight, too loose?"
Johann Scott closed his eyes and shaking his head back and forth muttered. "Feels fine. But I don't understand the need for the this…apparatus,"
Seated in a room adjacent to one of Tresor's large hanger bays, the former Protective Service Agent was being fitted for an upcoming test flight by one of the research facilities female techs.
Turning his large, bullet shaped head he looked up at the Tresor Research Tech. "I've never needed anything like this to pilot an LFO before. It kind 'a reminds me of those things they used to use on patients with a broken neck. What where those things called?"
"I believe that they were called a 'Halo"," The female tech smiled as she continued making adjustments to the headpiece. "Well…Mr…"
Scott smiled back. "Mr. Brown,"
"Well Mr. Brown, I don't think that you have ever piloted an L.F.O. quite like this one," She twisted a black knob on the left side of the headset. "Did you feel that?"
He nodded. "Is it supposed to press into my temple?"
The female tech didn't answer. Reaching over she adjusted the other knob. "How about that one,"
"The same," He responded his tone becoming irritable. "I asked you a question,"
"You don't want any gaps between your skull and the transducers." She replied matter-of-factly. "They have to enter cleanly," Leaning over she smiled at his stern expression. "Otherwise, you could accidently have a lobotomy in the middle of a high speed maneuver,"
Scott's face lost all of its hardness. "Did you just say lobotomy,"
Ignoring his question, she reached down and continued adjusting the two red knobs along the big man's jaw line. "Let me know how these feel?"
Wincing as the tip of the transducer lightly dug into his jaw, Scott replied. "Fine, ma'am, just fine."
She leaned back. "Good. Now stand up, let's fit you for your life vest."
"Life vest?" Scott asked aloud. What in the hell did I agree to…he thought as the Tech walked over picking up a couple of thickly padded grey colored vest and walking back over, checking the inside tag, handed one of them to him.
"Triple extra large should do it," She cheerfully said.
Scott turned it over in his huge hands. The texture and stiffness of the material reminded him of early versions of armored vest systems he had worn.
He frowned.
Those systems had been cumbersome and balky, not the sort of thing that would lend itself to him being jostled around in the cramped cockpit of his beloved Five-Zero-Five.
His frowned deepened, the scar on his forehead itching under the metallic embrace of the Halo as he recalled ejecting out of the black and silver trimmed LFO, just before it was shot to pieces by a big Terminus type Eight-Zero-Eight that was helping the TypeZERO and the thing that thought of itself as a human girl piloting it.
"Whatever it takes," He half whispered as he put the thick vest on.
"Good. Now hold your arms out away from your sides please."
Scott extended his arms out. "So what is this for?" he asked as the Tech began pulling and tugging on different sections.
"There are various sensors implanted inside the fabric of the inner shell," She began explaining. "Along with a special set of actuators that contract and expand the band that extends from here," She patted the big man on the gut. "Through here." She reached around to his lower back. "It helps to…"
"I know," Scott cut her off. "Keeps the blood where it's supposed to be, but we're already taught how…"
She smiled as she finished his sentence. "To tighten your abs during high speed manuvers," Stepping back giving the former Protective Service Agent a once over she told him. "But trust me when I tell you Mr. Brown,"
She paused and turning around walked over opening the door to the hanger adjacent to the room. "There is no mistaking this. Once you've strapped yourself into the cockpit of the Bravo Three-Zero-Three, you'll never, ever, be the same."
Scott caught the slight misgiving in her voice and started to inquire as to the exact nature of the LFO dubbed by its maintainers as the Devilfish when the Tech suddenly turned and held up her hand, her fingers wrapped around a small device similar to the detonators on the two suicide bomb vest's his mind screamed, her thumb poised over the button.
"What the…" He bit out as he started to move towards her, stopped as he felt the head piece, the Halo she had called it, tug against his scalp, the two red transducers digging into his jaw.
Stepping back slightly he turned. "WHAT THE…" He cursed using the foulest word he could come up with.
Attached to the rear, just behind his ear, two red tubes snaked down from the Halo, the lines coupled to a black box the size of a large caliber ammo can that was setting on a shelf under the metal table next to where he had been seated.
Shaking her head, the smile gone off her face, mouth now a straight line, the Female Tech continued saying, the tone in her voice apathetic. "Never the same."
Her thumb mashed down.
Good morning, Renton
Scott's eyes widened in pain as the inducers pierced through his scalp and jaw line. Reaching back he felt the tubes swelling up. Looking down at where the tubes were attached to the black metal container he saw the rubber expand out as two egg shaped bulges appeared and began to travel quickly up the tubes.
Face red with rage he reached up, his huge hands clamping down hard on either side of the Halo device. "I'm going to rip this off and shove it down your throat," He seethed.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Mr. Brown," The Female Tech cut him off, the tone in her voice still carrying the note of indifference from before. "If you rip the Halo off now," She paused as another man-small in stature wearing a black lab coat, round-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his hawkish shaped nose, a cruel rectus of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth-entered the room.
The man calmly looked Scott up and down. "Please continue." He smiled again. "Tell our Mr. Brown here what would happen if he were to forcibly remove the device now." His voice was high pitched and grating, and Scott noted, carried a thickly Eastern Warsaw accent, the man's look reminding the Former Protective Service Agent of a big, black rat.
The Female Tech inclined her head. "Very well Doctor," She looked back over at Scott. "As I was saying, if you try and remove the Halo at this stage," She paused again as the bulges momentarily stopped at where the tubes connected to the brace. "Well, you might as well put a gun to your head and pull the trigger."
Scott let out a primal scream feeling as a burning sensation immediately exploded inside his head. Hands on either side of the halo he slumped to his knees as he breathlessly bit out. "What…what…did…you…inject me…with?"
"It's a cocktail of various muscle and nerve enhancing drugs." She casually answered as she cautiously walked around his hulking form. "The first time the inducers puncture through your jaw and into your bloodstream is always a little painful, but after a few times, you'll get used to it, but the first time is always the worst, or so I'm told," Bending down she checked the connections from the black box to the Halo. Looking up she said. "Doctor, everything appears to be ok."
The Doctor nodded approvingly. Walking over he began speaking, the sound of his thickly accented voice sounding distorted and distant to the Former Protective Service Agent. "You see Mr. Brown, shortly after the discovery of the TypeZERO, and before the unearthing of," he paused and thought for a moment before continuing. "The girl…we had also uncovered several other archetypes, the TypeALPHA for example." He bent down and checked where the tubes connected to the Halo. He droned on. "Of course even after the scientist here at Tresor had outfitted the archetypes with a rudimentary control apparatus the best we could accomplish were very basic stop and start functions. The movements lacked any kind of fluidity, like a stick man. Very stiff, Da?"
Scott felt his senses slowly coming back into focus. He shook his head trying to clear out the effects of the drug cocktail. "Yeah, I understand,"
"Good, good." The Doctor smiled. "In a moment you should start to experience a bit of euphoria," He paused and adjusted his glasses. "Now where was I, ah yes; stop and start." He walked around and stood in front of Scott, who was slowing getting to his feet. "As I was saying all that was initially accomplished with the archetypes was very, ah, uninspiring. Of course that all changed with the discovery of the female human-coral-form, or as our good Doctor Eagan preferred to call it, what was it…oh yes; a Coralian…Mr. Brown is there a problem?"
Scott had lifted himself up to his full height, hands clinched into fist, a huge smile on his face as he stared glassy eyed out into the hanger, the dark form of the Devilfish dominating a corner of the hanger bay, the LFO squatting on its haunches, legs sprawled out in front of it. "I don't care what you care to call it, human-form, Coral whatever, I just want to get at it,"
The Doctor looked over at the female tech and chuckled, a bemused look on his face. "Get at it, that's good…good. Very well then, let's not keep Mr. Brown waiting."
In the end…Marcus thought as he turned the corner, the GOV's tires kicking up gravel, the small pebbles crunching underneath the tread on the unpaved road leading up the hill to his destination…You go it alone.
Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the government vehicle's rearview mirror…eyes hidden behind dark shades, beginnings of a five-o'clock shadow showing on his face, hairless head shining in the sun as it beamed through the driver's side window…Marcus smiled.
He had forgone wearing his usual fare of tactical pants and black ball cap instead going with a pair of "normal" looking khaki pants, dark blue polo shirt, black leather suit jacket and a pair of black leather shoes given him by Chief Taylor some birthday past.
The Diva had commented as he was on his way out of the hanger Team Seven was currently calling home. "Finally wearing something that doesn't scream out "Tactical Operator" for once I see, and oh those shoes…Fierce honey!"
Edward chimed in from over where he and Eureka were helping supervise an ammo offload from the TypeZERO's 80mm cannon. "Reminds me of that time we had to escort Admiral what's-his-face,"
The girl looked up at the Assistant Instructor, teal colored brows knitted together. "What's-his-face? I do not believe I have heard that name mentioned before, Edward."
Edward flashed a toothy grin. "Trust me, you're not missing anything."
The Master Instructor stopped and turned. Walking over towards Edward and Eureka bringing his hand up to his chin he said. "Yeah, I remember. Where we were going we had to look normal, all covert and such."
Brows still knitted, Eureka asked. "Ko…bert?"
Edward placed a hand lightly on Eureka's shoulder. "Covert. It means hidden. Understand?"
Eureka turned back towards where two ordinance techs where uncoupling the drum-shaped ammo magazine from the auto-cannon, slowly sounding out the new word, hands writing it down on the blank page of her mind. "Ko…vert. Yes, I understand Edward. Hidden,"
"Besides, the person I'm about to pay a visit to has no love for us Military types," Marcus had continued saying. Looking over at his Chief tech the Master Instructor unbuttoned his leather coat. Winking he opened it slightly. "Don't worry Chief, I didn't forget to accessorize." Tight against his right side was a HK-USP Compact handgun in a carbon fiber holster.
Edward leaned over and said to Eureka. "I always enjoyed adding 45-calibre anything to my outfits,"
Taylor sauntered over. With a mischievous look on his face he asked. "My question is…what else is covertly nestled in those pants?"
Marcus devilishly grinned as he buttoned up the coat. "I'll never tell,"
Eureka turned and looked up at the Diva. "Marcus is wearing…hidden pants?" Looking at the Master Instructor she furrowed her brows together. "But Taylor his pants are not hidden, I can see his pants."
The three men exploded in laughter.
Marcus laughed out loud recalling as the girl had simply frowned at the three men as he brought the vehicle to a stop. His laughter quickly faded as an older man stepped out from behind the wooden fence.
Wearing a pair of mechanics coveralls, the sleeves rolled up past the elbows, thinning grey hair receding at the temples, hands discolored from soaking too long in caustic reflection film resins, the older man stood there a moment, arms folded across his chest, brightly shining eyes boring a hole through the windshield. Silently he stood there watching then shaking his head back and forth reached up, pushing his thickly rimmed glasses up onto his nose as he grunted out.
"Well, are you going to get out or just sit there looking pretty all day?"
The Master Instructor raised an eyebrow and placed the vehicle in park. Reaching forward he turned the key in the ignition killing the engine. Opening the door Marcus stepped out of the car.
"I don't know, I thought I'd just sit there looking pretty," He sarcastically answered back.
"Humph, figures," The old man quickly shot back as he turned and started to walk away.
Marcus shut the door. "So Axel, are you going to invite me in, or just act as if I'm not here?"
Axel Thurston paused and looking over his shoulder gruffly spit out. "What do you think?"
The Master Instructor shrugged his shoulders. "I was hoping for an invite,"
Axel quickly bit back. "Of course you do,"
Marcus took a deep breath through clenched teeth. Exhaling, he started to reply but Axel beat him to it saying.
"I dug out those damnable forms for that Hobie-tri fin board of yours,"
"Axel, I'm sorry about Adrock…" Marcus began.
"Come on," The older man turned and looked at the Master Instructor. For the briefest of moments a smile began to form but quickly faded away. "Wouldn't feel right keeping my sons best friend waiting outside like some sort of beggar," Turning back around he started walking. "And besides, Diane and Renton are all excited to see you for some reason that I can't even imagine,"
Marcus quickly caught up to him. "Really, some reason that even you can't image? I wonder,"
"I see that you haven't lost your sense of humor," Axel said as he opened the door to his garage. "But after an hour or two of forming reflection film and then we'll see how funny you are,"
Seated at a table in one of the Ark's terrariums Koda quietly sat looking through a sheaf of papers. Taking a deep breath and leaning back, tossing the stack onto the table's glass top, she gazed up into the eternal night of space. "Are you certain about this, Naomi?"
Standing off to the side silently watching, impossibly green eyes sparkling in the light shining in from the planet's sun, the First Attendant replied. "Most certain, Ma'am,"
The Female Sage leaned forward placing her elbows onto the glass table top, her eyes falling upon a photo amidst the pile of papers, files and other photos in the personnel dossier spread out across the table. For a moment she stared into the eyes of the man in the photograph. "You are certain that he can find…the one that we seek?"
Naomi smiled inside. "Granted Ma'am, that the mere existence of this…person…hinges on nothing but legends, local superstition and Vodarac mysticism, He's the only one that's come the closest to finding the high priest of the Lotus sect of Vodarac believers, so I'd imagine…if this person actually exists, that he could find the one that we seek,"
"Norbu," Koda quickly bit out. "A thorn in the Federations side to be sure," Standing she turned facing the First Attendant. "But won't the Vodarac followers recognize him if and when he finds her?"
The First Attendant looked directly into the Female Sage's eyes, the briefest beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of her finely shaped mouth, lips parting slightly as Naomi replied. "He is quite resourceful, and I really don't think that that would be something to worry about Ma'am,"
"Oh…and why do you say that?"
Naomi's smile faded, an eyebrow arching upward ever so slightly. "Because, Ma'am, every Vodarac believer that has seen his face…has died."
The Female Sage crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly to the right. "You are probably correct about that. From what I gathered from his file, at least the part that wasn't redacted by our fine staffers at the Information Bureau, is that he lays the blame for the death of his daughter on the Vodarac,"
"Yes. She was killed during the attack on Warsaw, Ma'am,"
Koda cut her eyes away from the Kunoichi. "Of course…Warsaw," She turned away, looked back out into the night.
Naomi noticed the slight shift in Koda's body posture, the cutting of eyes off to the right, the tone in the Female Sage's voice…Warsaw. Better to keep hidden that, and the part played by you and the other members of the Sage Council…the First Attendant thought.
"So will you be able to convince Major Marcus to go along with this…search?"
She walked over towards Koda. "I am most certain that I can convince Jonathan to go along,"
"And what of the girl? He's become rather enamored with her as I am sure you are aware," The Sage turned and walked back over to the table. Reaching down, moving a few pages off to the side, finding what she was looking for, another photo, picked it up, looked at it. "Must be the resemblance to his dead daughter, wouldn't you say?" She asked as she turned and held it out for the First Attendant to see.
Naomi stepped forward, took the picture from the Female Sage. The glossy photo depicted a younger looking Master Instructor standing along with his daughter, the two smiling for the camera.
The First Attendant sharply inhaled, her emerald green eyes locking onto her niece, the image staring back up at her, Irina's big eyes reflecting bright red from the camera's flash, the young girl who was smiling so big for the photographer, the hands of her dad protectively resting on her small shoulders, the girls skin shockingly pale against her long brown hair held back out of her face by three golden hair clips.
Naomi reached up with her other hand, gently touching the photo, the First Attendant remembering the time, so long ago; when on one of the rare occasions she had visited her brother-in-law, had convinced the otherwise camera shy Marcus to pose with his daughter for a photograph...
…The very same photo she so gingerly held in her hands now…
…taken so long ago.
Presently Naomi looked up, said. "Yes Ma'am, the girl most certainly does resemble Jonathan's late daughter. I can quite plainly see why he has developed…" She hesitated, looked down at the photo gingerly held between her lithe fingers. "…an attachment to the girl, but I don't think that leaving the girl will be a problem. Captain Edward and Commander Holland are quite capable of finishing her combat training."
Koda stepped forward and took the photo from Naomi. "It is rather uncanny, though. The family resemblance," She said as she looked her First Attendant hard in those impossibly green eyes, turned carelessly tossing the photo on top of the stack of papers. The Female Sage turned back, her face stern. "It's imperative that we find out the location of this person, legend or not, because," Koda turned up a corner of her mouth. "If we find Sakuya…we can eliminate Norbu."
The First Attendant inclined her head forward slightly. "As you wish Ma'am; Shall I take my leave? I have a lot to prepare for,"
Koda nodded approvingly. "Yes, yes, of course. You may leave," As Naomi turned the Sage called out to her, the tone in the old woman's voice sly, conspiratorial as she said. "Oh, and Naomi, please give Captain Edward my best."
Stopping just outside the door to the terrarium, the First Attendant smoothly turned. "As you wish, Ma'am,"
In all his time spent logging hours in an LFO's hot-seat Scott could not recall a time when he felt this…
The former Executive Protection Service agent bared his teeth in a huge smile.
…Exhilarated.
"So, Mr. Brown," The Female tech's voice, calm and smooth, crackled across the Three-Zero-Three's center console, the communication's suite nestled in the LFO's flat, grey cockpit identifying the encrypted signal as "Radio Only" in bold, yellow letters. "How's it handling?"
Scott noted how she had referred to the Three-Zero-Three, filed the comment in the back of his mind. "Good, very good," He glanced down on the console, back up at the image being electronically reproduced and projected onto the thick, armored carapace that was the Devilfish's canopy, numbers indicating altitude, speed, and various range data flashing across the LCD screens attached to the cold metal.
Turing his bullet shaped head to the right, the cables attached to couplers above and behind the acceleration couch tugging on the Halo, Scott targeted the Federation flyer that had transported him out to the Tresor Research facility earlier that morning, the flyer instantly outlined in yellow, the targets range and Identification Friend and Foe information a separate similarly outlined box, the box connected to the target by a thin, yellow line superimposed by the cockpit HUD relative to the Three-Zero-Three's heading, keeping the pilot eyes facing front.
Mr. Brown smiled again as he smoothly brought the Devilfish around, the refboard cutting a swath through the trappar wave, the target and acquisition gear moving the information box in conjunction with the movement of the big LFO, the flyer now centered between the Three-Zero-Three's twin beam cannons, the narrow barrels located port and starboard, protruding almost wing-like, on the Devilfish fuselage.
"Boom…you're dead," Scott hissed through his smile. Hauling back on the HOTAS…the Three-Zero-Three reaching down with armored fist grabbing onto both sides of the refboard pulling the front of the board towards its chest, huge waves of trappar spilling out behind as the LFO came almost to a complete standstill in the air…the former Executive Protection Service agent pointed the Devilfish's refboard directly skyward and ignited his boosters, the Three-Zero-Three shooting straight up.
Scott's smile widened as a peculiar feeling slowly began to course through his body as the grey life-vest inflated in response to the sudden G-forces being placed upon the pilot, the tension keeping his blood from pooling in his midsection…
…the LFO rocking as it quickly accelerated through the atmosphere, ethereal green energy parting before the Devilfish, the trappar waves rolling and crashing as Scott pushed the mech hard, a part of him willing it to go faster…
A feeling growing in intensity…
…the LFO and the man becoming as one…
A feeling becoming all consuming…
…the soul of the man and the soul of the archetype merging…
A feeling of ecstasy…
…until nothing remained of the man…
…And all that matter was the will of the archetype.
The eyes of the Three-Zero-Three flashed blood red.
Scotts smile turned into a grimace as he felt his life beginning to slip away into a black abyss that appeared to originate somewhere at the base of his skull…No, more like at my temples…his mind managed to communicate to the part of him that was being drawn downward into the cold, black embrace of the Devilfish.
"You scared the crap out of that Federation flyers pilot," The female Tech commented across the communications TAC. "Nice sail grab by the way. So Mr. Brown, how are you…"
The Tech paused momentarily.
"…Feeling?"
Blackness enveloped the Three-Zero-Three as it broke free of the planets upper atmosphere as a different sort of blackness enveloped its pilot.
As what remained of Scotts fading consciousness recorded the sharp hiss of the Three-Zero-Three's pressure seals activation, the tightness of his life vest slowly abating across his lower abdomen, the female Tech continued speaking.
"I imagine that by now you understand what I meant earlier, about piloting…it; well, this should snap you back to reality,"
Scotts mind exploded with the crack of the Halo's inducers piercing into his skull and lower jaw followed almost immediately by his blood boiling as his heart was jumped started by the fiery intensity of the injection of the special drug cocktail, the life sustaining mix of various muscle and nerve stimulants flowing through the tubes attached to a special pump located behind the cockpits acceleration couch, the pump connected to an actuator tied into the vest life support monitoring system, the shock to his body snapping the big man's head forward.
Eyes wide, breathing heavily Scott shook his head slowly side-to-side, the Devilfish hanging in the weightlessness of space, the redness of its eyes fading into the blackness. "Holy shit…what was that?" He exclaimed.
"The reason that we inject subjects while they are still on the ground, Mr. Brown," a voice echoed through his headphones.
The voice was that of the rat-faced doctor.
The doctor continued. "Quite a feeling, or so I have been led to believe," The man chuckled. "Of course, all the other pilots were quick to give up and give 'it' back,"
Scott frowned; the former Protective Service agent senses heightened by the effects of the drug cocktail making the Doctors already thickly accented voice more irritating than ever. "I guess the idea of having your soul sucked out of your body didn't appeal to them. I don't blame them. So what gives with this," He shook his head, the effects of the drugs beginning to ebb. "Devil?"
The doctor inhaled, the sound of the air whistling through the man's nostrils causing the skin on the back of Scotts neck to curl. "You'll of no doubt have noticed that this particular Devil, as you would call it, has not a Compac Drive interface, nor a Compac Drive."
No duh Sherlock…Scott thought through the grating sound of the doctor as he continued droning on.
"It is the archetype itself that is quite remarkable. Different from all the others unearthed, a difference akin as night to day, black to white…" The doctor paused, the whistling roaring loud in the former Protective Service agent's ears. "…good to evil. Of course it took a couple of…unfortunate incidents to understand the true nature of the Three-Zero-Three. For you see Mr. Brown, the archetype itself tries to merge its consciousness with the one controlling it, thus the need for the dose of medication."
Scott recalled the feeling as his life slipped away, suppressed the thought of what the doctor had meant by "incidents".
"It had taken me a while to get the right types and dosages of medication right, but there should not be any…unfortunate side effects. So you should have nothing to worry about."
"Great…just great," Scott muttered. "So in order to keep my soul and fly this thing I have to be drugged out of my skull," He laughed.
"Why yes, Mr. Brown. That is quite right." The doctor matter-of-factly remarked.
Scott stopped laughing. Pushing forward on the Devilfish's HOTAS, the LFO instantly responding, he ignited the boosters, dropping the Three-Zero-Three out of the lower atmosphere and back into the sea of transparence light particles.
"Well now, look who's grown up into quite a fine young lady," The Master Instructor commented as he released Adrock's daughter from the tight hug, held her out at arm's length. "A real heart breaker you've become,"
Axel pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Harrumph, not if I can help it,"
Marcus laughed as Diane crossed her arms and glared over at Axel, her face flush. "Grandpa, please,"
As Diane stepped back, the Master Instructor caught something out of the corner of his eye near a doorway leading into an adjacent hallway. Looking down at Diane, grinning at her and winking he called out. "I wonder where Renton is hiding?"
Diane suppressed a giggle. Playing along she also called out. "I don't know, but I bet he is hiding around here somewhere,"
The old man shook his head at the two. "Care for a cup of coffee before I wipe that smile off your face?"
Marcus continued smiling. "Sure why not." Turning back towards his best friend's daughter he slyly commented as Axel made his way into the kitchen. "So, is your granddad always this cheery?"
"Always," She replied.
The Master Instructor feigned a painful grimace and shuddered. "Yikes, I'd better be on my best behavior. Now we'd better find Renton," He continued saying as he bent down, his knees popping loudly.
"Oh my! Are you ok?" Diane, concern written over her face, asked.
"Yeah, just don't get old," He smiled as he turned and faced over to where a young boy quietly had stood watching, a Compac Drive held tightly in his small hands, blue eyes wide with curiosity at the bald, darkly tanned man kneeling next to his sister. "Now, why don't we go and find Renton,"
"But I'm right here," Renton sheepishly said as he stepped out from behind the corner of the hallway.
Noticing the drive, Marcus nodded. "Why yes…yes you are,"
Standing there a moment, looking into the kind eyes of man that his sister had told him was his father's best friend, Renton Thurston clutched the Compac Drive tighter - the drive the only thing left of his father before he had disappeared in what historians where calling "the Summer of Love" - and walked over to his sister and hiding behind her skirt looked over at Marcus.
"It's ok silly," Diane said. "Marcus isn't going to bite, right?"
Seeing as the young boy's eyes locked onto the holstered pistol peeking out from the folds of his leather coat the Master Instructor smiled. "Nope, I don't bite, at least not much," Extending his hand out, his voice soft, yet firm he introduced himself.
"Good morning Renton, I'm Major Jonathan Marcus, and I was a close friend of your father,"
To be continued…
