A Highway that Never Ends
Guilty Gear belongs to Sammy Studios and Daisuke Ishiwatari
Chapter 14: Mission Start
As he picked his way through the ruins, Venom tried to imagine the city as it had once stood. Gears had demolished Petersburg long before his lifetime, but Millia once showed him a book filled with engravings of the Winter Palace. Although well protected in the Guild's library, the book had faded over the centuries and its delicate pages crumbled when mishandled. Still this had not dimmed the great palace's radiance in the pictures, and Venom had often marveled at that place with its incomparable treasures.
Now only a handful of collapsing buildings and streets clogged with dust and debris remained in the Crusade's aftermath. Venom surveyed Palace Square – where the Gears had rent the very earth – and the Neva River had flooded the place before him where the palace should have stood.
Venom looked upon the hints of grandeur and felt a deep sadness at the destruction. All the pictures, all the jewels and artifacts had been lost – looted over the years since the Gears' defeat or destroyed during the Crusades. Petersburg had become a cursed city – broken beyond repair and consigned to dreams and memory.
From behind a pile of rubble, a slinky cat – lithe and black – loped out to meet him. Its soft paws whispered across the rocks as it came over and rubbed its side against his shins. Venom gave it a sympathetic smile as the cat looked up with demanding yellow eyes and meowed. With one hand free, he bent over to stroke it, and in response the cat arched its back, swishing its tail with satisfaction.
Venom reached down to pick up the creature, but the cat froze and wariness replaced contentment. Its eyes flickered across the square and as Venom turned to follow its gaze, the cat bound away – fur rippling across its shoulders and haunches.
The assassin saw only a blur of motion from the corner of his eye and he straightened, bringing his weapon up in automatic defense. Energy disks aimed at his torso sliced through the air, but he turned them aside with quick snaps of his pool cue.
Having blocked the last one, Venom looked around with intent eyes but did not relax his stance. Near the edge of the square stood a slender woman, and her hair rippled as if in a slight breeze. But Venom knew better.
Shifting his grip on the stick, Venom greeted her in a neutral tone, "Millia."
The woman regarded him with indifference, but he heard a hint of anger in her normally collected voice, "You should not have come, Venom."
With that as her only warning, she rushed toward him – zigzagging between piles of rubble for cover. Although he followed her movements, she moved fast enough that he had little time to react, and strands of yellow hair curled around his cue before he could sidestep the assault. With a swing of her head she nearly wrenched the weapon from his grasp and he stumbled toward her to maintain his grip.
Even as one hand slipped, Venom tightened his hold with the other. Gritting his teeth, he snapped his free hand at the wrist, and a small blast of energy emanated from the summoned cue ball. When it struck Millia across the sternum, she backpedaled – releasing him from her hair as she gasped for breath. As the ball rolled off his fingertips, Venom used the opportunity to leap away, back flipping past the range of her hair.
"I am not here to fight you, Millia Rage."
Annoyance flickered across her face but rather than respond, she launched herself into a high jump. The hair wrapped around her, turning the frail woman into a living weapon and she came down spinning upon him. Rather than block, he teleported into the air above her, narrowly missing the razor strands of hair, as she landed in a crouch.
This left her vulnerable for only an instant, but Venom moved quickly. While he truly had not come to fight, he had no chance of survival remaining defensive. She darted out of the way when he jabbed his pole downward, but as his feet hit the ground, Venom turned into another back flip. This time he felt his foot connect with flesh and heard an accompanying grunt of pain.
Even as she fell back, her hair blossomed into a mass of spikes and struck him across his hand and arm. She tucked into a roll and came to her feet, as the cue slipped from Venom's fingers and blood sprang to the surface of his skin. With his uninjured arm he lunged forward to grab the falling weapon, and having closed his hand around it, Venom pivoted back on guard. Only after he stopped moving did he feel painful prickles across his arm and a spasm run through the muscles in his hand. Her sentient hair – the Angra – cut sharp and deep.
Between labored breaths, Venom tried again to reason with her. "Millia, I swear on Lord Zato's soul, I have no desire to fight you."
At such a solemn oath, a flicker of uncertainty passed across her face, but Millia only hesitated a moment before suspicion won out.
"You lie," she stated with a glare, but she lowered her arms a fraction. Her blonde hair continued to swirl around her, writhing through various weapon forms as if responding to her thoughts.
She continued with deliberation, "I killed Zato."
A tremor ran through his hand, but Venom steadied it, refusing to rise to the bait.
"Yes," he managed at last through clenched teeth. It took all his effort to suppress the snarl that curled his lips.
She tilted her head and regarded him with a curious look. "And you have forgiven me?"
He closed his eyes, willing the pain to disappear and his emotions to subside, but both remained as keen as ever. When he again regarded Millia, he found the woman still peering at him with those piercing eyes. Under such scrutiny, Venom had no choice but to tell the truth.
He hissed, "Never."
"Then die."
Millia dashed forward before she launched herself into a headfirst dive. Before she hit the ground, her hair shot out beneath her so she skidded toward him – riding on her hair. As she struck at his legs, Venom rolled out of the way, his shoulder brushing against sharp rocks, before he sprang up to his feet.
Venom had grown accustomed to Chipp's quickness and however fast Millia moved, she could not match the ninja for sheer speed. Yet as her hair withdrew, she leapt to her feet with a nimble handspring. Although the assassin had time to raise his weapon, he could not prepare himself for the pounding assault that Millia unleashed. Assuming the form of a spike, her hair struck at him in a series of furious jabs, striking across his body and arms.
Although he blocked the first round of stabs, he had no chance to counterattack and the blows continued. At last one pierced his defense and connected, slicing deep into his thigh so that his blocking faltered and others struck as well. As they hit him on the chest, stomach and arms, Venom skidded back – narrowly avoiding a final blow to the face – as he struggled to remain standing.
He kept his weapon raised but waited for her hair to lower before he charged with cue spinning before him. Millia raised an arm, hairs twined around it to cushion the blow, before the cue struck. As steel met flesh, Venom heard an unpleasant crack and the woman went rolling across the broken ground.
Instead of springing back to her feet, Millia struggled to rise, and Venom could see that her one arm hung battered and limp. Although the mass of hair shielded her face and torso from view, Venom glanced at the blood splatters on his pool cue and could imagine the pain coursing through her shoulder and arm.
When she made it to her knees, Millia looked up with defiance as a trickle of blood rolled down her chin. Her brow knit with the exertion, and Venom became conscious of his own injuries. The deep cuts across his body made it difficult to breathe as they throbbed in time with his heartbeat.
Venom met her cold gaze with his own hard expression then slowly held up the cue in front of him. Still meeting her eyes, he released the weapon in a deliberate motion and it tumbled to the ground, the steel clanging as it bounced across the rocks. He did not speak, knowing that actions meant more than anything he could say.
She did not speak either, but her eyes flickered to the cue lying on the ground before again regarding him. Millia sneered and dashed toward the man, but Venom did not flinch as a streak of gold rushed toward his face.
The hair stopped – inches from his throat – as she pulled up short. He kept his eyes locked on her face, deliberately not acknowledging the sharp blonde spike that threatened him. After a moment, the hair relaxed and fell around Millia's face as its strange energy drained away. It still twitched in the breezeless air, but the immediate threat had passed; Venom allowed himself to breathe again.
"Fool," Millia chastised, "You shouldn't be so reckless."
Venom, more out of relief than humor, gave her a tight smile as he reproached, "And you shouldn't be so soft-hearted."
Millia did not return the smile, but her expression softened. Regarding him with calm curiosity, she took a step back and rotated her injured arm to ease the soreness. Venom tested the wounds on his chest and stomach with tentative probing; although painful, they were not dangerous.
"What do you want, Venom?"
"Believe it or not," he began in a dry tone, "I've come to warn that you are in danger." When she raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he added with a shrug, "It is true."
The woman circled around him, but Venom remained still. This was her territory so he would allow her the upper hand. And if she truly had wanted to kill him, he would already be dead. As she moved back in front of him, Millia came to a halt so she could give the assassin a frank stare.
"I believe you, Venom, if only because you are a terrible liar." She paused, allowing the assassin a chance to respond, but Venom gritted his teeth and pretended not to hear. With a sigh of disappointment, Millia continued, "So I suppose I should ask what this danger is? I would like to know how you found me, but that would be naive to ask."
"Indeed," he nodded. "There is a new player around called the Postwar Administration Bureau. Have you heard of such an organization?"
Millia shook her head. "I've not spoken to my contacts since the Second Knight's Tournament. I have no desire to involve myself in conflict."
With a condescending snort, Venom crossed his arms and gave her a reproachful look. "You of all people should know that our kind can never avoid conflict."
Her eyes turned cold and she tossed her hair with pride. "Speak for yourself. You have never sought redemption. What can you possibly know about it?"
"I know enough to understand that running away is not the same as peace."
"And you certainly know about running away, don't you, Venom?"
Venom expected to feel rage at her impertinent remark, but instead he felt nothing beyond mild irritation. Once he would have killed for such an insult, but now he could only acknowledge the truth in her words. He wondered what had changed him so much in such a short time.
Yet he still hesitated before admitting in a soft whisper, "Perhaps I speak from experience."
Millia did not respond, but her eyes softened with what might have been respect. Venom had not seen that expression in a long time, and it made him strangely pleased; he felt himself warm to the woman.
Shaking aside such feelings, he continued with a curt toss of his head, "But that is not why I'm here. Just as I found you, so will these people. They target participants in the Knight's Tournament for their experiments, and kidnap them with robots known as Robo-Kys.
"Although relatively weak, the Robo-Kys are formidable en masse, and the Bureau has almost completed the second generation of these robots. My sources say that they hope these MK2 Robo-Kys will rival the power of the Gears, and for that they will need to harness magic. I suspect they'd be most interested in you and your Angra."
At its name, Millia's hair shifted and the woman looked uncomfortable. She unconsciously raised a hand to run fingers through the strands, but when she noticed Venom still watching her, Millia forced her arm to lower.
Collecting her voice, she asked, "And why would you tell me this?"
Although he had prepared for such a question, it still took him by surprise. Uncertain of how to explain, Venom began in a faltering voice, "If we ever had a friendship, it died when you betrayed Zato. But whatever I think of you and whatever you think of me, we are not so different."
Venom found himself meeting Millia's gaze through the veil of his hair. Her eyes burned into him – cold and blank and hard like facets of sapphire – but she remained quiet.
In an uncomfortable voice, he continued, "No matter how hard you try to escape, our memories of Zato bind us together, and for that reason I will not let them harm you. Do not think it love – it is quite the opposite. No one but me will take your life."
"How very thoughtful," she murmured in her cold voice. "But if you think yourself strong enough, why don't you try and kill me now?"
Venom's eyes flicked over to his cue, which lay on the ground and out of reach. Unarmed he would have a serious disadvantage in any conflict between them, but he knew that was not the reason why he did not attack. Nor could he claim that her death should wait until after he eliminated the other, more immediate, threats; Slayer's reappearance or no, Venom's duty was to destroy all the Guild's enemies.
"Because..."
Even as Venom's mind struggled for the answer, the truth came to him, simple and startling. "Because I don't want to," he decided.
As strange as the words felt in his mouth, once spoken he knew them to be true. He did not want her to die as Tsuyoshi had died, and he did not want to kill any more friends. His will still served the memory of Zato, but for the first time, he wanted to make his own decisions – his own choices. He no longer wanted to be a dead man's dog.
As if hearing his thoughts, Millia's look of skepticism softened and she nodded at his unspoken explanation. She moved toward him with lanky grace until they were mere inches away. He could hear the ragged edge to her breathing even as he became conscious of his own wheezing.
Millia tilted her head back to meet his eyes and remarked, "You have grown since the last time we met." She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder – light enough that it soothed the pain in his chest and arm.
"I do not ask for your friendship or forgiveness, but I am glad that you came. You must have gone through a great deal of trouble to learn about the Postwar Administration Bureau, and I am honored that you did it on my behalf."
Venom looked at the ground as he muttered, "The truth is that a friend asked for the information. I'm simply passing it on to you."
"A friend, huh?" Although her expression remained deadpan, he could hear the amusement in her voice as well as the insinuation.
Venom scowled and when his cheeks flushed against his will, the expression of annoyance deepened. He hoped his hair would hide the worst of his embarrassment.
"Yes, a friend. Nothing else," he snapped. "He's stupid and foul-mouthed with no redeeming qualities."
Millia crossed her arms, and a rare but genuine smile warmed her face. "That's good. I'm glad you've found someone different from Zato."
"Of course he's not like Zato! What does Lord Zato have to do with this? Are you implying something, woman?"
Her kind smile twisted into something more mischievous. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
She raised tentative fingers to his cheek and brushed aside the hair. Venom heard himself gasp, but he remained still – wary and tense but too uncertain to react. She stood on tiptoes to bring her face to his then pressed her lips softly on his cheek. They were as cool and rough as the tips of her fingers.
When she settled back on her heels, Venom took an involuntary step away as he regarded the woman with amazement. Even during their time together at the Guild, they had never been more intimate than a meeting of eyes or brushing shoulders as they passed in the hall. Although he looked for some clue of her intentions, her face returned to its normally blank expression as she turned away and moved toward some rubble.
As she peered around it, the black cat reappeared and bound over to her, twining itself around her legs with a loud purr. A pleased smile cracked her lips as she bent down and collected the animal in her arms. Although it struggled at first, the cat soon settled down – relaxed and amiable – as she rubbed its chin.
Holding the cat against her chest, Millia gave Venom one last look. "Take care of yourself, Venom. I am glad you came, but please do not try to find me again."
With quiet steps, she strode out of the plaza, unhurried and seemingly unafraid. Venom waited until she had disappeared from sight before he moved to pick up his cue and repack it in his carrying case. Only when he felt certain that she was long gone did he begin to retrace his steps. As he made his way out of the city, he could still feel the place on his cheek where her lips had touched.
Ky felt a tentative hand on his shoulder as a soft voice called through his sleepy haze, "Detective Kiske? Are you awake?"
With effort he pulled his mind from the splotchy blacks and reds of unconsciousness and opened his eyes. Ky realized his head had come to rest on the desk before him and he blinked, hastily pushing himself upright in his chair.
With a file in hand, Cobb stood before the desk and looked at Ky with obvious concern. "Detective Kiske, please tell me you didn't pull another all-nighter."
It took Ky a moment to process the question and he rubbed at his eyes, giving his head a slight shake to clear the drowsiness. It helped a little, and he ran a hand through his now-tangled hair.
With a slight smile Ky quipped, "If you wish me to say that, I will. But I can't promise it's the truth." When Cobb opened his mouth to protest, the detective added, "I appreciate your concern, Officer Cobb, but I see no other choice in the matter. Although you have looked into companies involved in biological and genetic research for the past month, you and your assistants have found nothing but dead ends."
Cobb looked almost hurt, "But sir!"
"Do not think I am criticizing your work," Ky cut in but made a placating gesture with his hand. "I merely point out that another set of eyes may be helpful in the matter. That's why I've taken upon myself the task of crosschecking all of Johnny's leads."
Although somewhat mollified, Cobb still looked offended as he muttered, "And when you die from overwork, I'll be the one getting that promotion."
"As much as you deserve the honor, I wouldn't wish such burden upon you."
"I know," Cobb growled, "That's why I'm trying to keep you alive."
Ky smiled in response as he stood up. He gave a hopeful glance at his watch but sighed with disappointment; his favorite coffee shop would not open for another forty minutes. After brief consideration, Ky decided to make due with what he had and made his way to the corner of the office where he kept his mug and a tin of biscuits.
As he flipped on the water heater and began to sort through his collection of tea, Ky looked over his shoulder at Cobb. "Would you like something?"
The officer waved a dismissive hand that still clutched the folder. "No thanks, I had an espresso before I arrived."
Pulling the tea egg out of a drawer, the detective asked, "And why are you here so early, Officer Cobb? I wasn't expecting you in for another two hours."
Cobb's voice faltered and he sounded embarrassed as he admitted, "Well, you see, I kinda pulled an all-nighter myself."
Ky restrained from gloating but allowed himself a smile of triumph as he scooped the tealeaves into the egg. The other man could only glower at his superior and grumble, "Yeah, yeah. Pot – kettle, I know. But I only do it once in a while; you make a habit out of it."
Steam began to squeal through the water heater's spout and Ky flipped it off, letting the water cool a little before he poured it into his cup. Cobb continued as he pulled up a chair for himself, "The thing is, I went back and reexamined some of our older leads. I looked at some of the reports on research funding and allocation. One place in particular caught my eye."
He flipped open the file, revealing a detailed budget with several key figures highlighted for Ky's benefit. The detective looked at them with curiosity.
"The Neft Dashlari?" He skimmed over some of the figures. "Is this an oil company?"
"Close. It's actually an entire city built on an oil platform. Its whole purpose was to drill for oil, but the Azerbaijani government shut it down when it fell into disrepair shortly before the Crusades. This company, Caspian Energies, began to put money into restorations about ten years ago."
Ky shook his head. "I don't remember hearing this name."
Cobb took the folder back. "That's because you haven't. Caspian Energies is still relatively small, and the Neft Dashlari Revival Project has proven only marginally successful. The reason it caught my eye is because of several generous donations given from these companies."
He flipped through several pages and pulled out another sheet. "These are the grants Caspian Energies has received in the last three years. I became suspicious when I noticed this one coming from Genesis Biosciences and Pharmaceuticals, which is on our list. I played a hunch and found that these other two grants match the amount of unallocated spending from Genome Development Incorporated and Fountainhead Laboratories – both under investigation."
Ky had put the tea egg into his mug and now fixed his eyes on Cobb, the tea and his exhaustion forgotten. "You can prove the connection?"
The officer shook his head. "No way. They're way too good for that. The companies that gave the grants are squeaky clean, but that only makes me less trusting. I'd bet my career as an officer that Caspian Energies is only a front."
"I trust your judgment, Officer Cobb, and if there is a connection between those companies, it's just the lead we've been looking for. Do you believe the Robo-Ky factory is located on the Neft Dashlari?"
"I have no evidence from the satellite pictures we took, but the energy expenditures and supposed product don't match up with their reported profit. There's a possibility that Caspian Energies is just your run-of-the-mill corrupt company on the verge of bankruptcy, but my gut says there's something more. Either way, there's an awful lot of coincidence."
"And police don't believe in coincidence," Ky added with a grim frown. "Very well. We will investigate this lead further. As an International Police Force detective, I have the right to perform unannounced inspections of any corporate facility. I will go in and, if your theory proves correct, call you and a team in for backup."
"But Ky – I mean, Detective Kiske, the risk is too great. The Postwar Administration Bureau has already proven that they think they're beyond the law. If there is a connection, then it's too dangerous for one man to go, even on the pretext of a legal inspection. At least let me come with you."
Ky gave him a tight smile. "I appreciate your concern, but it is exactly for that reason that I cannot risk the lives of you or the other men. I have no intention of starting a fight, but should it come to that, I have more battle experience than anyone else on the Force. Besides, I know that you'll be ready if I give the signal."
Cobb did not look convinced, but at last admitted with a sigh, "You're probably right – no one else on the Force could handle this. But if you do need backup, I'm not sure how much help any of us can give."
"That's why I'll have my own personal backup," Ky replied with a nod.
"Oh?" Cobb looked gloomy and resigned as he asked, "What's that?"
"Let's just say I've developed a newfound respect for piracy these days."
Humming to herself, April scanned over the control panel of the May Ship. Takeoff had gone smoothly, and although the turbulence forecast suggested rough weather when they would make their approach, the controls handled well as the ship came to cruising altitude.
"After takeoff check, please," she called out to June, who sat behind her at another terminal.
She did not have to supervise to know that the younger girl's eyes scanned over the dials and readouts with quick precision. After a moment, June called back, "After takeoff check complete. All systems normal."
With a cheerful grin, April nodded and craned her head to regard the copilot. Giving June a thumbs up, she announced, "Thanks, June! Let's engage autopilot and grab a bite to eat."
Although June maintained her solemn tone, she managed a tentative smile. "Autopilot engaged. What would you like from the kitchen, April?"
April shrugged. "Anything's fine. Leap never makes bad meals." She paused in thought then wrinkled her nose. "Well, everything except the meatloaf."
June stifled a giggle, but sympathetic mirth flashed in her eyes. "Anything but meatloaf it is, Pilot April."
Rising from her seat, June made her way to the cockpit door, which she pulled open with a grunt of effort. As she slipped from the control room, she gave April one last nod and pulled the door closed behind her. April heard the door handle click into place with a heavy clang and listened to the sound of retreating footsteps – almost drowned out by the engine noise.
Once alone, April turned on the autopilot and stood, stretching her shoulders and back. With a stifled yawn, she pulled out a thermos of coffee and poured herself a cup. The coffee was still too hot to drink, but she savored the smell and took a few tentative sips, enjoying the caffeine even as it scalded her tongue. As she withdrew the cup from her lips, April's mouth creased into a thoughtful frown and she cocked her head.
She thought she heard a faint knocking. Remaining as still as possible, the pilot listened harder and the noise sounded again after a few moments – this time a little louder. Her eyes scanned over the cockpit walls and back to the controls in front of her, but none of the equipment showed any sign of malfunction.
After she set down her coffee cup and thermos, she moved toward the source of the sound. With small steps to minimize her own noise, April crept toward the side of the cockpit. At last she reached the sound's origin, but by now the rattle had become a series of rhythmic taps that echoed through the cockpit. It came from a place between a porthole and the door to the ship's exterior. With a sense of foreboding, she stepped up on tiptoes to peer out the window.
And up popped the face of Chipp Zanuff, which promptly squashed itself against the window. Stifling a scream, April hopped back – her heart racing and the years slipping off her life. With a hand clutched to her chest, she tried to steady her heart rate as Chipp gave her an unconcerned wave. She merely stared at him – mouth open – and tried to rationalize his presence on the May Ship's exterior at this altitude.
For his part, Chipp ignored April's shock and instead gestured toward the door, mouthing something that she could not hear through the thick plastics of the porthole. In a daze she rushed forward and manually unlocked the metal hatch. They had not reached such a high altitude that the cabin had pressurized, so she heard only the sharp hiss of wind as she opened it just enough for the ninja to squeeze his way into the cockpit.
Once inside, Chipp stumbled out of the way and April leaned all her weight against the door to push it closed. Only after she put the locks back into place did April turn to the other with a look of confusion.
"Chipp! Why on earth are you here!"
The ninja wore a heavy cloak and thick pants but violent shivers racked his body. His teeth chattered when he tried to speak, and she hurriedly grabbed the emergency blanket and tossed it over to him. He accepted the blanket with a stiff but grateful nod and wrapped it around his lean frame.
Upon closer inspection, she could see the blue tint in his lips and the growing redness on his nose and cheeks – testament to the fierce winds that passed across the ship. April moved to pick up her coffee cup and handed it to Chipp. Their fingers brushed as he wrapped stiff digits around the mug, and she felt a deep chill through his skin.
After taking a quick gulp, Chipp managed in a hoarse voice, "Thanks, 'pril. It's been a while, yeah?"
She looked at him, thoughts torn between exasperation and amusement. "Chipp, if you wanted to visit, you should have talked to Johnny before takeoff. We'd love to see you, but right now we're on business."
"Naw, sister, I ain't here to visit. I got some information about where you're going, and I'm heading there myself. Figured I'd catch a ride."
April looked at him with surprise. As the pilot, she knew their destination, but Johnny had yet to tell her or any of the crew why they were going or what they expected to find. He only mentioned that someone needed the May Ship to provide support, and he did not expect the Jellyfish Pirates to become directly involved. She could not begin to imagine how Chipp managed to learn about their mission.
With hesitation, April point out, "Um, Chipp, I don't know if I can let you stay here. You really shouldn't come onboard without Captain Johnny's permission."
Chipp's lips parted into a wide grin even as his teeth continued to chatter. "I know that, April. Why don't yah give your capt' a call? Tell him I found a way to pay off my debt."