-G.A.C. Durgon, 21:00 Turo Standard Time-
Night fell. 626 sat with Lilo in their private room. "Are you really going to go after Leroy by yourself?" She asked him.
"If I get the shot. It's like what I told Spon."
"I'll be with you, though!" Lilo pumped up her chest.
"You won't. It's too dangerous." He grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed. "It's not like the movies. Innocents aren't always safe, and the good guys don't always win. Stay here. Please. For my sake, for your sister's sake. Lilo, I know you want to help, but there's no place for you on the battlefield."
She went silent, falling asleep soon afterwards. 626 sat in his bed, too nervous to sleep.
And too guilty. Spon's face kept coming back to him, the angry words repeating themselves in his head. He sighed. Spon, I'm sorry. But this is something I have to do. He knew it, deeply, almost instinctually: he needed to be the one to defeat Leroy.
Night fell. Obrea stood in front of a window and stared out at the stars, trying not to think about all those who might die tomorrow. 626, Private Jofford, Adon, me… Nights before battle were always hard, especially when someone close to him was in the thick of it. And knowing 626, he would be, taking the lead against the shieldships or trying to hunt down Leroy in some grand attempt to throw the other experiment down. And I can't do anything to keep him safe. It was a horrible feeling.
Adon joined him shortly thereafter. "It's a hell of a planet for a large-scale assault. Almost like it's some fantasy story and we're attacking the enemy lair."
"Yeah, I guess." Conversing required Obrea to actively engage his mind in something other than worrying about the possible casualties of tomorrow, and he wasn't really up to that at the moment."
Adon seemed to sense what was worrying him. "He'll be fine, Colonel. Didn't Dr. Jookiba make 626 almost indestructible?"
"Against normal weaponry, yes. But that…thing… is just as strong as he is, and if they've got it in the sort of state they were trying to cultivate with the Aeterna, he might be even stronger."
"Well, 626 completely kicked its ass last time they fought, didn't he? Even if the other experiment's a bit stronger he's still got three years of training and experience." She clapped him on the shoulder. "He'll be fine."
Obrea still wasn't convinced. "Still, look after him, Adon. Please."
"I will." They stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity.
She broke it. "Claire."
Obrea turned to her. "What?"
"I think we've been through enough shit that we can loosen the formalities a bit, Obrea. Call me Clair." Obrea realized she was smiling, a warmer smile than he'd ever seen on her face.
"If you insist Ado – ah, Claire." He smiled back. "In that case, call me Ellar."
The two turned back to the stars.
Night fell. In the barracks, Spon tossed and turned, too furious and terrified to sleep. Damn it, 626. Why do you always have to treat your life like it's something you can just throw away? He'd thought that maybe the talk his friend had had with Melia aboard the World Ravager might've at least tempered that a bit, but the moment he learned about 626's insane stunts on Earth he'd realized that his hope had been a foolish one. 626, much as he might be moving on from his self-guilt, was still the same idiot with absolutely no preservation instinct.
Well, he vowed, if you can't be bothered to safeguard your life, I'll do it for you. Spon raised a fist in front of his face and clenched it. Come hell or high water, 626, I'll see you through this battle.
Night fell. In a different part of the barracks, Airman Third Class Beforce Dixon stepped out of his shower. Paradoxically, as nervous as he was for the battle tomorrow, he was also somewhat excited. Somewhere, down on the planet below, was the abomination. To get the chance to fight it, to kill it, to wipe out the aberration from the galaxy: Dixon had been hoping for the chance ever since he'd first heard about the beast and its actions during the battle of Gapra. Now, he'd get his chance.
Clothed in his uniform, Dixon walked back to his bunk. He looked around, taking in all his comrades in arms, wondering how many of them wouldn't see the next sunset. If you kill any of them, monster, I will pay you back in kind. It was the least he could do.
His thoughts turned to the other genetic abomination present. He had to admit, he was curious: would 626 stand with those who gave him a place in their galaxy, or with the creature also created by Dr. Jookiba? The possibility that 626 would be ungrateful enough to turn traitor worried him. If he does, who knows how many of us will pay the price?
There was no use thinking on it. Dixon clambered into his bunk, shut his eyes, and whispered a quiet prayer that the Gods above would protect everyone in the Armada and strike down Jumba's monster.
Night fell. Up in the captain's quarters, Gantu spoke with the Grand Councilwoman.
"All is ready for tomorrow's assault, milady. I vow, one way or another, we will end it."
"I hope your confidence is not misplaced, Captain. Spec and Jookiba have evaded us before, after all, and now we will be attacking them in a battlefield of their choosing. In that, they hold an advantage."
"Well, yes, but we hold the advantage in numbers and morale. You have my word that we will crush them all and bring this struggle to an end."
The Councilwoman's voice grew stern. "Captain, you had better hope this struggle does not end in us sustaining unnecessary casualties."
"It won't. I promise you that."
She visibly had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, I had best leave you to your rest. Good luck tomorrow, Captain. May you return home victorious."
The communicator winked off. Gantu sighed and sat down on his bed. She lacks faith in me. It rankled a bit; Gantu really did have every intention of ensuring that they won the day without losing a single life more than was necessary. As Captain of the Galactic Armada he was responsible for all those present, and he would give every life the same value as that which he gave his own. More than he valued his own, in truth; while he was just one, they were one million. Mark my words, Councilwoman. I will NOT sacrifice without need.
Gantu shut his eyes and tried to sleep. A minute passed. Then ten. Then thirty, and he still was unable to sleep. He got up and walked over to the little kitchenette attached to his room (one of the best perks of being Captain, he'd found, was the ability to make his own food) and decided to whip up a small broth.
A short while later he was back in bed, nursing a warm bowl of soup. The feeling as the warmth flooded his throat was comforting, almost homely, and it reminded him of why he fought to keep the galaxy peaceful: so that there would always be peace and homes.
Once the bowl was empty Gantu felt his eyelids drooping, and within minutes the great Captain drifted off to sleep.
-Saiccano Volcanic Citadel, 21:00 Turo Standard Time-
Night fell. Jumba slept in his bed. Or tried to, at least, but the thoughts kept chasing each-other around in his head. The Federation. The Armada. 626. Leroy. Dr. Hämsterviel. The Jitos. All the pieces that had led him to this point.
It was all the thrice-damned Council's fault. Them and their slavish devotion to 'peace' while still financing the largest army in history, their belief in democracy and freedom while propping up any dictatorial regime that kissed up enough. Long ago, he'd decided that if the galaxy were to start moving and advancing again the Federation would need to be ripped up root and stem, and tomorrow would be – he sensed it, in his bones – his last chance to do so. If the Armada crushed them here, the galaxy would remain under Federation rule. If the Armada fell, the forces of chaos would be allowed to return and unshackle system after system from their current listlessness. Then there would be space for him and his creations both present and future to thrive.
His creations. 626 and Leroy, his successful failure and his uncertain success. He had to admit, whenever he thought about how he'd pushed them both to fulfil the role he set out for them, he felt a pang of guilt. They were the closest he'd ever had to children, yet here he had been, attempting to kill one and actively condoning the branwashing of the other.
Maybe, in another universe, things could have been different. Jumba imagined himself with his two experiments, not was weapons but as sons, spending their days in peace and quiet, maybe doing science here and there, maybe with Jumba taking a husband (there was this one-eyed noodle that Hämsterviel had said was the closest thing the Federation had to an Earth expert that Jumba had to admit he would probably have been attracted to under different circumstances), and with them all happy.
But it wasn't to be. Tomorrow he and Leroy would march to battle on one side and 626 on the other. Most like they would meet, and one experiment would kill the other. The thought saddened Jumba.
Is no helping it. Is for good of Galaxy. By the end of tomorrow, with any luck, the battle would end with him and Leroy both alive and victorious, at which point Jumba would…what was next?
To fix Leroy, he realized, and undo damage Hämsterviel caused in him. While it was true that Jumba had wanted to increase Leroy's bloodlust, what Hämsterviel had done had been beyond the pale. The results may have been all he could have hoped for, but even for Jumba the cost was too much.
When this battle is over, I WILL make him better.
Night fell. Night had fallen, hadn't it? The lights in Leroy's cell had dimmed enough that it seemed like it, and it had been a few hours since one of the Jitos had brought it dinner.
Had the man been a bit slower, he would've been on the plate as well. It would have tasted delicious, the flesh of a Sorv, all that blood flowing down the experiment's throat. It could almost taste it, hear the satisfying crunch of the bones, smell the man's innards…
No. Nonononononono that's wrong.
That voice again. Leroy growled. The one from before. The weak him. The one master had hated.
I thought you were GONE. Leroy growled. Master got rid of you so that I was worthy of his love. He ripped you out!
Hmm…ripping…wouldn't it be fun to try that on someone? To see their body snap in half like a twig?
Don't do it Don't do it Don't do it! The voice spoke. Don't kill! Be like HIM! Like the other one!
Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutup! Leroy replied in a panic. If master hears you –
Master's dead, dead! The other one killed him!
NO! LIES! Leroy had killed the woman who told it that lie, that master was dead and gone. He wasn't. He couldn't be. He wouldn't have left his Leroy, would he? The one he loved?
Unless I failed him again…
No. I never would fail master. Not sense I became strong. Since I discovered battle. Yes, yesyes. I will perform tomorrow for master! I will bathe in blood! In soldiers! In the other one! Leroy erupted into a mad laughter that silenced all the protests of the voice. Kill! Kill! KILL! Its vision clouded over red as it imagined itself killing every single Federation soldier and personally ripping the other one apart limb-from-limb, and Leroy laughed all the harder, until it realized that it was crying.
What? Tears? Me? NO! No tears! Master won't like that, hewillnothewillnothewillnothewillnot I'm stronger than this I'm braver I'm more powerful I'm NOT WEAK! I'M NOT!
The little voice whispered again. Tears are good. The other one probably cries lots!
SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!
Leroy flopped onto his bunk, writhing with a cavalcade of emotions: despair, loathing, anger, anticipation, bloodlust…
Night fell, and in private chambers, dormitories, bathrooms, prison cells, and observation decks across the planet and in space, everyone prepared, in their own way and as best they could, for tomorrow.
For decisive battle.