NOTES:
This chapter evolved very quickly. I can't promise that the others will come out as fast as this one did, but we can all hope, ne? I really do love this fanfic, but I seem to have misplaced some pages from the next chapter, and if I don't find those soon, I'll have to rewrite a scene that was very difficult for me to write in the first place. That's code for "It'll take me forever".

Anyway, this chapter features the Incident that will Begin the Crossover! After much exposition. Anybody wondering who got hurt last chapter; you're about to be enlightened. Anybody wondering about the connections between the GW boys and the MK cast; you'll have to wait until next chapter. ^_^ Sorry. Plot comes before fun.

WARNINGS: Heavy angst and suffering. Poor Erts! Yaoi and yuri and het will all be involved in the future (the pairings won't actually be THAT weird ^^ ), and there's probably going to be violence floating around as well.


Erts wished that, just once, he could wake up slowly. A gradual return to dismal reality, not a sudden smack in the face as everything surged at him all at once.

Of course, sleep wasn't a wonderful thing either, not when it was haunted by nightmares the way his was. What he longed for was the state in between, when the dreams were melting away and the unhappiness of his existence had not yet dawned on him. He wanted to suspend time and take a few minutes to just relax.

But he couldn't. He snapped awake and aware all at once, assaulted by impressions of who/what/where/when/why. There hadn't been a moment of peace, not for him, not ever since his brother had been killed and he'd been promoted to Pilot and what little happiness he'd managed to find for himself had been wrested away.

Erts uncurled himself and forced his body to sit up, then ran out of energy. He gazed at the bedsheets of the enormous bed that seemed so unnecessary and empty when it only contained himself.

"Empty," he said in a voice hoarse with sleep.

Just like his life.

CRASH
[Into Me]
by Kay Willow

Part 1, Chapter 1

"There's another four B-Type approaching from the right," Erts reported tensely, so preoccupied that he didn't even hear Rio's astonished demand for a repeat. He had his hands more than full; data scrolled up the monitors in front of him and vanished again in seconds, his mind was overflowing with excess thoughts and emotions he read from his Ingrid and his teammates and his opponents and even the planet glowing hopefully behind him, and the Victim were approaching in truly ridiculous numbers. An A-Type and two D-Type were on the scene, and two B-Type and a third D-Type had already been killed. More were still coming. It looked like the beginnings of a mixed swarm.

Background chatter filled his ears from the open channel he had to GIS -- oh, how he wished he could shut that channel, but if he closed his connection with the Goddess Integration System vessel they'd assume that something had gone wrong and panic and THAT was the last thing he needed. He couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a second, and he hadn't looked at his visual of the battle in five minutes or more, trusting the other Pilots and his own psionic gift to keep him from getting attacked.

He hadn't even fully recovered from YESTERDAY'S battle, and he'd been to the infirmary earlier that morning. His mind was coming very close to being fried. Erts genuinely began to wonder if he'd make it through the week with his brain intact. Between yesterday, and today, and the sheer horror of the morning...

Heading down to the infirmary was hell at the best of times, at least for Erts. As one might expect, pain and fear had accumulated over years and years in that area of the GIS vessel, until the very metal walls had absorbed the psychic stink of suffering. A sensitive telepathist could all too easily drown in it.
Erts was not only a sensitive telepathist, but he was also a young, an inexperienced, and -- both physically and emotionally -- a STRESSED telepathist. He practically reeled down the hallway, his surroundings blurring and blending like a kaleidoscopic hallucination. It was hard to breathe.
Alright,> he thought as he paused to recover and collect himself. The moment I'm finished here, I'm going back to my room and taking a nap. This is definitely not normal.>
It had certainly never happened to him before. Only since he'd become a Pilot had he felt unable to find even the simplest refuge from his own EX. When he'd been a mere Candidate he had been able to shuffle the emotions and file them away, relegating them to a psychic background noise; he'd been able to take the thoughts of others and accept them as they came without cluttering his mind with them afterwards. It had all seemed very simple back then.
He wondered when it had all begun to change.

...he was rapidly heading towards critical capacity. If he wound up at the point where further mental contact would be seriously detrimental to his health and his sanity, he would not only be worthless to his companions, he would be an active hindrance. And then what was the point of his promotion at all? He was too young to be a Pilot -- only fourteen! Fourteen was the absolute minimum age to join GOA as a CANDIDATE! -- and the only reason he had been promoted in the first place was because he was a telepathist, and he had been the only telepathist in the GOA ranks who could possibly take up the space left behind by Ernest Cuore's brutal death.

Reneighd Klein needed a telepathist to be her Pilot. She had been built solely for one, and trying to put any other kind of person inside her cockpit was akin to forcing a square peg into a round hole. And when her Pilot had been killed in battle and she had failed to protect him, Erts had been the only one who could possibly have filled the empty space that had been left behind.

And who could've done it better? After all, Erts had been following rather helplessly in Ernest's footsteps. Just like a good little brother should.

A bright shock of agony lanced across his mind, but it wasn't his, and for a moment Erts found the will to focus.

"Tellia-Kallisto, what the fuck happened there? You just TOTALLY hurled yourself against the shields! You hurt?" Rio yelped into his comm unit.

"I'm fine," came the thin answer. But he was lying. Erts could feel the pain as though it were his own. "My new automic just... shifted."

Erts shuddered, the words automatically bringing to mind the reason he'd been going to the infirmary in the first place.

And what he'd seen while he'd been there.

Yu Hikura perched on the edge of an examination table, listening solemnly as a medic explained to him how he should take care of himself until he had fully recovered. He wore only a pair of loose silk pants, and Erts' breath caught in his throat as he saw for the first time the results of his negligence.
The older Pilot's entire right side was a hideously unnatural gray-brown; scar tissue lined the edges of what had been a gaping wound only hours earlier, and the natural skin seemed to wrinkle horribly wherever the implanted skin had been soldered to it. The new flesh itself was miscolored due to the presence of the automic so close beneath the surface. The automic looked to be at least six inches long, buried under the false skin like a piece of misplaced shrapnel.
Erts fought the sudden sensation of itchiness at his collarbone. The doctors had explained to him a thousand times that the automic didn't actually itch, it was only that because he KNEW that there was something unnatural underneath his skin there, his subconscious mind automatically tried to encourage him to brush it away. Erts hadn't needed them to tell him about the power of the mind.
An automic is a perfectly normal thing,> he tried to remind himself. Every human being has physical imperfections, little flaws in body structure that weaken their constitution and could result in problems when placed in the high-stress position of piloting an AHW... everyone knows that, they tell you a thousand times when you're training as a Candidate for Goddess. So that's why automics are necessary, to strengthen the weak parts and replace the bad parts... But...>
It seemed so wrong, the random splotch of foulness eating away at Yu's side.
"It'll fade, of course," Dr. Huan was telling him. "In a week or so the skin should become fully acclimated, and by the second week the automic will be settled in to the point where you won't notice it any more than your natural atomics. Be as careful as you possibly can about aggravating it: non-birth automics are always trickier than regular ones, and this was a rush job -- we haven't even had you for twenty-four hours yet, and already I'm sending you off again in spite of the fact that you were half-dead when you got here, against my better judgment I might add -- and if it gets shifted, then we'll have to do another surgical session to put it back into place."
Yu nodded simply and pushed himself off the edge, dropping to his feet and wincing briefly. Kazuhi stepped forward to hand him his yukata, and he nodded his gratitude again, relaxing in a strangely affectionate manner under his younger sister's worried care.
Then he looked at Erts.

"Reneighd Klein, Pilot status reports a sudden drop in energy levels; please comment."

For a brief moment, he'd forgotten that when his stomach churned at the memory of that sickening sight, Tune's scanners would pick it up. A Repairer was responsible for her partner as well as her partner's AHW. It would be derelict of her not to investigate.

It was her job.

"I'm fine," Erts managed, his hands shaking as he returned them to their proper position on the consoles. "It was only a fluke, Tune-san."

"Agui Keimeia, shield strength at half! I'm gonna need more power if we wind up dealing with all these extra Victim, GIS!"

"I hear you, Agui Keimeia," Phil rapped out, her crisp, no-nonsense tone almost soothing to Erts' floundering mind. Vague sounds came over the GIS channel -- muted conversation, the dim typing of keys, running footsteps -- and within seconds Rio's Repairer was back at her station, reporting, "We're all clear on that. Upgrade power output on the shield to level five!"

It was the first time Erts had ever been in a battle where Rio had needed to submit the request to raise the shields beyond the acceptable three levels. And to raise it to level five... maximum output...

Then again, he'd also never been in a battle with so MANY powerful Victim before.

"You know what?" Gareas gritted, speaking up for the first time that battle. "This really SUCKS. Can we get some backup going here?"

A beep at his keyboard distracted him; Erts frowned at the location coordinates and warned, "The right four B-Type have increased velocity, and the new estimated time of arrival is in three minutes."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Rio muttered.

A new monitor flared on Erts' visual, and he glanced up to see Teela looking back at him. "Reneighd Klein, please request GOA to have First Troop move out," she ordered evenly.

"Yes," he replied, feeling tired. It was only a month ago when that would've been his call to battle, instead of fighting in the whole long, drawn-out episode that had been going on for more than a half-hour already. Without another word, he keyed in the sequence to raise the volume on the GOA channel.

"Reneighd Klein to GOA; Ernn Laties has placed the command for First Troop to move out..." Teela continued talking as he relayed that, her voice swirling over and around him like a refreshing breeze -- a little on the chilly side, but welcome nonetheless, and somehow soothing. Erts relaxed minutely as he repeated her words without thinking, the rote procedure of it settling his mind. This, at least, wasn't up to him. This he couldn't be held responsible for.

"How... how is it?" Erts stuttered, almost withering under that dispassionate gaze.
Yu shrugged his yukata over thin shoulders. "Uncomfortable," the quiet boy stated. "They always are." He appeared to consider, as though trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to get across in as few words as possible, and then added, "They've registered a twenty-five percent decrease in EX levels; there's no telling how much will regenerate as my body adjusts to the implant."
A full quarter drop!>
"I wanted to talk to you about your handling yesterday," Yu said coolly. "You were--"
"I'm sorry," he blurted, clenching his hands into fists and drawing them close to his sides. "This is my fault... You got hurt because of my foolishness, because I wasn't good enough. And now your EX may be greatly reduced permanently and I'm so sorry--"
"You were off-form," the other Pilot cut in. "Your reaction times were slow and you seemed on edge. Is something wrong? Are you not feeling well?"
"I... No. No, actually, but I--"
"Don't bother fretting over this." Yu touched a hand to his side. "Pilots get hurt sometimes. It's been a while since it was my turn." He shrugged, and in the same fluid gesture began striding forward. "Whatever it is you need to do to regain your equilibrium, do it," he advised as he passed. "The Victim are not always so kind."
Erts blinked. It can't be that easy,> he thought numbly as he dipped his head briefly in response to Kazuhi's polite bow. But the Hikura siblings continued down the hallway, for all the world as if the elder hadn't nearly been murdered by Erts' lapse in judgment less than a full day ago.
It really had been that easy. Yu didn't even feel that an apology was necessary. Yes, he'd made a mistake, a horrible mistake, and someone had nearly died for it.
But nobody had died, and they hadn't lost the battle, and Zion hadn't been destroyed.
He'd made a mistake and it HADN'T been the end of the universe.
And slowly he'd begun to hope... that maybe he could get used to this job after all.

No sooner had he dared hope than the Victim had struck again.

There was an explosion to his right, accompanied by a burst of triumph from Garu and the sudden flare and disappearance of a Victim presence.

"Got the A-Type! Fast little bastard, but I got it!" Gareas crowed shortly thereafter, corresponding with the data racing furiously up the monitors at Erts' hands and the sensations flowering constantly in the back of his mind. The telepathist observed them shortly, checking to make certain that everything had gone as expected, and then returned his attention to his main task: gathering information.

He checked his teammates first -- Rio's presence burning bright with frustration, Gareas' with triumph, Yu's flickering slightly with exhaustion and pain that he struggled to suppress until the end of the battle at least. Teela's aura glowed a more gentle, steady blue-green, calmer somehow and more accepting, almost unaffected by the insanely difficult battle building up around them.

Then the planet. Zion, behind them, radiated light and warmth, sending out positive reinforcement that felt to Erts' trained senses like the nourishing rays of the sun. The comforting life-force of that beautiful globe seemed to speak to Erts, sending him images of endless yellow-green plains that almost vibrated in the stillness, or wide, clear blue ocean untouched by humanity, or mysterious jungle buzzing and singing with health...

Distracting him.

The faint beeping of new data intruded on the pulse of his union with his charges; Erts spared a glance for the monitor to his far right, but didn't allow himself to wander too far from his objective. There was already too much going on to permit further disturbances. He focused instead on keying the correct codes for direct GOA communication, establishing a channel to request Teela's reinforcements, a redundant but nevertheless necessary echo of a similar broadcast sent from GIS directly to GOA.

Faintly, he felt the gel shiver against his cheek, like the caress of ghostly fingers, and Reneighd Klein murmured to him, {Did you read...?}

Erts paused a moment, then half-turned to check that monitor again. His Goddess scrolled the constant flow of information backwards so he could see what she had referred to.

The breath froze in his throat, fear turning his body to ice.

"Erts-san? Erts-san, the status report is sending me mixed signals; do you need support..."

"No!" he replied immediately, raising a shaking hand to rest at his temple, trying to aid in his grounding. "I'm fine, Tune-san, just please continue with the diagnosis."

The speakers fell silent, and Erts gave his entire attention to the comm devices hovering above his forehead. "First," he called, keeping his voice even and his mind as shuttered as he could manage without blocking the other Pilots. "Long-range radar reads the appearance of five hundred more Victim in the Far Reaches, Type-R, estimated arrival in ten minutes--"

"You've GOT to be KIDDING me!" Rio squawked, apparently directly into his comm device; Erts flinched from the sound, wired too tightly to process it. "What is THAT?"

"It's a swarm," Teela said coolly. "Reneighd Klein, is the channel to GOA established?"

"Yes," Erts replied, noting the green speaker signal tinted with the red of GOA's broadband.

"Have them send the entire Academy out."

He shivered uncontrollably as she began listing coordinates. The last time the entire Academy had been summoned to deal with a swarm of R-Type, his brother had died.

In this very cockpit, no less. Right here, less than a month ago, Niisan was cut down in a situation exactly like this...>

A vague click from the speaker, and he snapped back to himself, reciting, "This is Reneighd Klein calling for backup; Ernn Laties requests that the Academy be marshaled in defense. First Troop should remain whole and spread out across Area Orange with Pro-Ing units 01 through 05 as relay, station here..."

He continued rattling off the coordinates, fingers blurring across the consoles as he did so, trying to get a more accurate estimate of the approaching swarm. Dimly in the background he could hear Gareas demanding to know which of the D-Types they were currently engaged with was sending out the call, and Rio informing him tensely that it could be any or all of them.

This could be the end. This could be the final swarm. The one that will get past us and take Zion and that'll be the end of the human race...>

"...and on the far edges of the battlefield at Area Yellow. Second Troop should divide into four 5B formations in the following patterns within Area Red..." Erts trailed off, surprised. "Area Red?" he repeated.

The poor transmission officer, who had probably never expected to need to actually SPEAK to a Pilot, stammered uncertainly, "S... Sir? Is something wrong...?"

"Ernn Laties, is that information correct?" Erts asked, ignoring the man.

There was a brief pause, most likely while Teela checked her voice records to be sure she'd said what she intended, and then her terse response was, "Yes. Is there a problem, Reneighd?"

Erts steeled himself. "As a matter of fact, there is. I have to question the wisdom of placing Second Troop on the front lines, here where the swarm will be strongest. If anyone, shouldn't it be First Troop in Area Red--"

"No. It should not." Teela sounded no angrier or more frustrated than before, her voice remaining as even as ever; his mental connection to her revealed that, if anything, she was amused by his insubordination. "I want Second Troop to be stationed here. Understood?"

Erts nodded reluctantly, then turned to relay the information. "Second Troop should divide into four 5B formations in the following patterns within Area Red; Groups A and B forming a blockade behind the Ingrid lines, Groups C and D--"

In the back of his mind, Reneighd Klein practically seethed with curiosity, and he was in complete agreement with her. Teela had made a choice for which there was no logical explanation -- it was simple fact that First Troop was more experienced and competent than Second, that was why THEY were Senior Candidates, so why would Teela prefer Second Troop to back them up? Reneighd was an information-gatherer, a scout and a spy, and not knowing was distracting her.

While Erts sympathized with her plight, he knew that he couldn't allow either of them to be distracted. As he relayed further orders to the Goddess Operator Academy, he pointedly keyed in another scan of the oncoming swarm; almost as if startled, Reneighd Klein stretched out her senses jerkily, then regained her composure and smoothed it out.

"I can't believe I didn't notice the gathering of a swarm," Erts murmured under his breath, feeling nauseous as he watched the distant glimmerings of the R-Type horde, now barely visible in his 'sight', and somehow deathly menacing even as vague flashes of light and dark. "An entire swarm."

{Not now, not now, think of it later,} Reneighd Klein told him breathlessly. Her presence was strained, almost nervous, and her connection with him vibrated like a too-tight wire. With every slight shift of his body, she sent out her mechanical senses in all directions, seeking with an almost paranoid need for more information. {Which Victim are they gathering around? We have to tell Teela quickly so she can direct the Pro-Ing units--}

Erts obligingly focused on the each of the D-Type in turn, searching for the signal wave that was calling the swarm. Then he blinked, startled out of his concentration, and tried again.

Neither of the Type-D were broadcasting.

Uneasy, he broadened his check to include the three remaining B-Types, and got the predicted lack of response. B-Types weren't strong enough to initiate a swarm movement; they very rarely had the power to attract more than one or two others of their own kind to travel with. He read nothing from any of them beyond their own intentions.

That was impossible -- Type-R had little true intelligence, and merely drifted, solitary and without purpose, until they were summoned together by a more advanced Victim. So one of the two Type-D HAD to be calling them, and yet Erts could sense nothing.

{Nothing? But that's impossible.} Reneighd Klein echoed his thoughts deliberately, sounding as disturbed as he at the realization. She drew her presence closer around him, as though frightened, and sent out another scan.

Six impossible things before breakfast,> he thought wearily. He said into the comm device, "Reneighd Klein, reporting a failure to intercept the broadcast. Permission to attempt a reading of the R-Types?"

"This is a dream, right?" Rio demanded. "I never actually woke up this morning, I'm still dreaming, isn't that it? That's why we first have to deal with more than half a dozen upper-class Victim, and then a whole swarm of teensy little ones without a rest, and now we're talking about not even knowing HOW the R-Types are getting here? And we didn't even get to have breakfast before heading out. So this MUST be a nightmare. Any minute now Garu is going to break out in a leotard and start dancing ballet, and then Phil is going to tell me that she's running off to get married to Teela--"

"Agui Keimeia," Phil's voice came over the GIS channel, her tone promising dire retribution. Erts thought he could hear snickering in the background, and Tune sounded like she was trying to muffle laughter directly into her control panel. "Please SHUT THE HELL UP so your BLATHER doesn't block the communication channels."

"Reneighd Klein, permission is granted," Teela's voice shattered the misplaced amusement with all the effectiveness of a spray of gunfire. "Which Victim is summoning the swarm, and where are they planning to go?"

Erts closed his eyes and stretched his awareness out to the Victim ahead of him, feeling his Goddess gather herself behind him in support, encouragement and confidence in her nonphysical caress. There wasn't love or pride, like he knew she had felt for his brother, but Tune had been certain that those things would come in time.

Making contact with a Type-R Victim was very different from contact with other forms of Victim. R-Types were mindless, somewhat confused creatures. Unlike most other types of Victim, they weren't filled with rage and hatred, but -- like their more advanced cousins -- merely existing hurt them on a level that Erts couldn't understand at all.

It was easy to hold himself beyond an R-Type, really child's play to keep from losing the distinction between IT and HIM. After all, one couldn't get lost in something that had nothing.

*mustgoforwardmustgoforwardandthenwewillbefed,wewillbesated,wewillbeabletorest,* was the only thought running through its mind, a single continuous impression of motivation.

Erts shook his head in frustration. ~gowhere?~ he asked it subliminally, carefully interjecting the thought on a level where it would be unable to sense his presence, but where it would still feel the query's influence.

*mustgomustgoforwardmustgotozion*

That had NEVER happened before.

Erts was shocked from his focus for the second time in five minutes.

{Erts? What did it say?} Reneighd Klein fussed invisibly, insufferably curious and terribly impatient.

"It... it said it wanted to go to Zion," he whispered, stunned.

"What was that?" Teela demanded sharply, and Erts winced. He hadn't meant for her to hear that, had wanted to phrase it better before forwarding the message to his commanding officer, but she'd somehow heard him. "Repeat that, Reneighd Klein!"

"Communication with the Victim revealed only a desire to go forward, to Zion," he repeated louder.

Silence from the scanners, quivering in the air above his temples like leaves battered by the breeze.

Erts added hesitantly, "Of course, this is highly irregular. R-Types are directed solely by the will of a higher-class Victim, they have no will or desires of their own. It simply isn't possible for them to want to go to Zion, or to WANT anything... They're just not intelligent enough to do it on their own." His voice wavered at the end, sounding weak and lame, but there was really nothing that could be said.

Teela said nothing for a long moment. Then she said neutrally, "How much longer until the arrival of the new swarm?"

He checked the ever-scrolling information all around him, unconsciously searching out the correct line of data, then said, "Approximately five minutes remaining."

"And how much longer until the arrival of the reinforcements from GOA?"

"First Troop in two minutes, Second and High Third in approximately five."

Space was no barrier between Erts and the others; there was nothing to dampen his connection to thoughts the and feelings that radiated constantly from all living things. But for some reason, he felt nothing from his companions -- the absence of emotion, an emptiness that radiated through all of them momentarily. Erts subconsciously shied away from that hopeless void, retreating into the protective embrace of Zion; the planet reached out for him and soothed him, offering him visions of the beauty and life that awaited him if only he could find a way there, someday...

Teela said simply, "This could be trouble."

He had never heard her speak that word before.

"Everyone, spread out. The First Troop will be making an boundary line soon enough so we won't need to worry about letting the Victim escape; when the swarm gets here, take out as many of them as you can! If the R Type have somehow managed to learn independence, then we're going to have to kill them all."

The concept of killing five hundred Type-R -- a small amount, considering the size of the swarms they usually traveled in, but still FIVE HUNDRED -- sickened Erts to the core. It would mean hours of hacking away at what were essentially creatures too stupid to do anything but what they'd been told to do.

Erts closed his eyes and focused for a moment on the brilliant sphere of blues and greens that they fought so hard, so endlessly to protect, and let Zion speak to him.

His serenity was shattered after what seemed like only a fraction of a second as an intrusive, alien presence made itself known to his sensitive EX; he jerked back to full awareness and realized suddenly that the battle had progressed without him. Reneighd Klein had monitored everything the whole way, but apparently Zion had been so distracting that he hadn't noticed the passage of several minutes in this critical battle. The swarm was to either side of him, and he could see Pro-Ings battling them, and a D-Type Victim was heading straight for him.

Erts fired his sole weapon instinctively, and the Victim reared its head and screamed inside his mind, broadcasting its pain and suffering directly to him as though aware that he was a telepathist. But his gatling was weak and ineffective against a Victim of this class -- and most Victim; Reneighd Klein was intended to be an observer, never actually participating in the battle itself, and her weaponry was a last resort only -- and it recovered while Erts still reeled from its shriek of pain.

Before it could take advantage of his distraction, Agui Keimeia was between them, personal shields at center and driving the Victim away with powerful magnetic currents. Rio's concern and determination eclipsed the Victim's fury, granting Erts a momentary respite in which to recover his equilibrium.

Erts observed absently that the shaking of his hands had grown much worse in that short few seconds; Reneighd Klein's sync allowed her to ignore the typos in his rapid-fire commands and obey his intentions instead, but if he were using a simpler machine he would have been in a great amount of trouble.

"The swarm is going to shift to the rightmost edge of Area Red," he reported thinly, feeling Yu's momentary distress at the prospect. "Agui Keimeia, please shield the perimeter to avoid overlap into Area Orange."

"I read you," Rio responded immediately, and within seconds Agui Keimeia was gone again.

Drawing back to avoid engaging with the D-Type again, Erts sought Teela's lifeforce and fled in that direction. The necessity of spreading out to battle an entire swarm had left him vulnerable; he needed to rejoin with one of the more battle-capable Ingrids to focus on everyone, secure in the knowledge that he was protected. His connection with Zion seemed as stable as ever, but the rest of his mind was stretched out blindly across the blankness of space, and to process the information he was receiving from the areas that were NOT blank, he had to--

"Erts!" came a familiar voice. "You here to help out?"

...Zero?>

Erts blinked at the Pro-Ing division arrayed before him, struggling with three B-Types and a small band of R-Types. He hadn't realized Zero was with the Second Troop. And... Puzzled, he reached out again for Teela. She was a league apart from his current location, chipping away at the massive numbers of the Type-R on her half of the field.

How did THAT happen?> he wondered, panic rising in his body in almost physical waves. I focused on Teela, I KNOW I did, and I went towards that sensation, I KNOW I did, but somehow I'm here, across Area Red, with the Pro-Ing troop!>

"Erts-san, do you need support?" Tune demanded again, more firmly this time, as if becoming more and more sure that he needed help with every message.

And,> Erts was willing to admit, she may be right.> But out loud he addressed Zero, saying, "I'm sorry; coming over here was an accident. I have to leave now--"

"What, just like that?" Zero demanded in return, cheerful as ever, casually firing his rifle and taking out one of the remaining B-Types. "We're friends, right? You don't need to run like I'm out to attack you, for crying out loud." Almost as an afterthought, he reported his kill.

Maybe it's this easy for YOU, but I can't DO my job if I'm distracted, Erts wanted to shout at him. His fingers were still trembling on the panels arranged on the insides of his Goddess, who murmured soothingly in his ear while taking in the movements of the Pro-Ing units with eternal inquisitiveness. He murmured, "I'm sorry, Zero. The swarm will be shifting this way any moment now, so you should brace yourselves for an attack on your nearest flank from the JS Quadrant, but that's all the help I can give you because I really have to go find Teela-san..."

"The Pilot of the White Goddess, right?" The older boy's mind quieted in reverence for a moment, his thoughts a whispered circle of memory and gratitude and ambition and determination. Zero's only aspiration in life, it sometimes seemed to Erts, was to be near Ernn Laties. Then he was suddenly normal again, and saying enthusiastically, "Well, where is she? I'll be escort, if it's nearby."

"It's NOT," Erts said shortly. In the space of an instant, he heard Gareas thinking Now is the time if I strike now I can take down this D-Type> and the Victim's sense of triumph as it observed his preparations, and without allowing his own mind to enter into the equation he cried, "Gareas-san, you can't! It knows!"

Then from Gareas' mind came rapidfire recognition and realization and frustrated acceptance, followed by the Victim's dismay, and then pain as a Pro-Ing attacked it from behind. Relieved, Erts returned the foremost of his attention to Zero, repeating, "It's not nearby. She's in AD Quadrant--"

"AD Quadrant?! That's almost totally OPPOSITE us here in TK," Zero said accusingly, thinking strongly of the field map in demonstration, as if Erts didn't have his own chart on one of the many data screens swimming around his field of vision. "Now I HAVE to escort you. No WAY you can make it past the bulk of the swarm on your own."

"I can avoid--"

"Don't be a fool, you can't avoid them all, and Heltage only has that little gun, right?"

"Well, yes, but..." Erts trailed off. "What did you call Reneighd Klein?" He could feel that his Goddess was as startled as he was; the gel suspending him quivered with shock and something almost like pleasure at Zero's comment.

Zero didn't answer him, saying instead, "Candidate #88 to GOA, reporting temporary leave to escort Ingrid Reneighd Klein to AD Quadrant; Yamagi, you cover for me until I get back, hear?!"

Further disorientation struck him like a physical blow as Erts noticed his former pair's phrasing: REPORTING leave, not REQUESTING it. He was missing something here, something important...

"All right, Erts; we're clear, let's go," Zero said simply. The boosters of his Pro-Ing flared into life, and he shifted the personal shield from his back to his arm in preparation. "Connecting, okay?"

Erts blinked again as Tune told him -- sounding somewhat surprised, as her attention had not been focused on his personal conversation before -- "A request has come through for direct visual contact from Candidate #88. Should I... allow it to go through, Erts-san?"

"Yes," he hurried to reassure her, "he's a friend." The windows he already had up shuffled themselves around to make room for the new monitor that suddenly snapped open, Zero's face square in the center. Erts had to turn slightly to see it fully, as it popped up on the edges of his immediate visual.

Zero didn't look any different at all, Erts realized with some surprise. For some reason, he'd expected to find that his friend had somehow grown to match this unfamiliar strength.

But then... perhaps it was only because he'd never seen Zero in true battle before.

"I'll lead, you follow; you can act as support and warn me if something's coming. Okay?" Zero rattled off easily over their new channel, keying in commands and maneuvering his Pro-Ing easily in the void of space.

For whatever reason, that simple detail enabled Erts to relax all at once. The first time he'd ever felt Zero's mind, the new Candidate's presence had been tainted with the effects of his phobia of zero-gravity, and as they'd become close Erts had watched as that phobia dwindled away into nothing. They KNEW each other. Zero wouldn't let him get hurt, because they were friends, and nothing had changed between them now that Erts was a Pilot, because they were friends; this situation was familiar and encouraging, and it was with a rare sense of serenity that Erts relinquished independence and allowed Zero to take control.

"Yes," he said, smiling. "That's okay with me."

They zipped across the battlefield, their private channel always filled with words: Erts reporting on nearby Victim, or Zero recommending a new course, or just normal conversation -- at least, as normal as conversation got when interspersed with life-or-death emergency communications with Ingrid Pilots struggling to save the human race. Zero turned out to have been correct; the way the swarm was turning, around AD Quadrant, there was no way to get to Teela except to go through the swarm. Between them they found a relatively low-populated route, and between them they made it to the other side unscathed.

It was when the brilliant white form of Ernn Laties was within visual that everything suddenly went wrong.

Their private channel was taken down once they were within easy comm range of the other Ingrids. Zero reported lightheartedly that he'd delivered Reneighd Klein to her destination safely, but was denied permission to return; according to First the swarm was intensifying in their area, and no one was to enter or leave until it had shifted again. Erts confirmed her analysis and estimated a ten minute wait before the Victim turned to a new direction.

Zero accepted the news readily enough and went to join the Pro-Ing squad that had arrived with Eeva Leena, moments after their own arrival; Erts watched him go regretfully, but was immediately joined by Gareas, who reassured him distractedly that there was no need to get Candidates to protect him when the other Pilots would naturally do the same.

Then, without warning, a vivid shriek ripped open Erts' mind and he cried out in unison with the D-Type Victim that was not supposed to be on the battlefield.

But it was.

And he had never once received a hint of its presence.

A sonic blast surged into a direct collision with his Ingrid; and again Erts found himself screaming, but this time the pain was his own as well as hers and there had been no chance to free himself from the zeta skin before the contact and he could FEEL her armor chip and break away under the attack because his flesh was torn away in the same places. The agony drowned out everything else.

And then the energy was gone again, Reneighd Klein knocked out of the way by the force of the attack itself.

Erts could never be quite sure what happened in the next few moments, entombed as he was in his own hurt and HER hurt and the now-bloody gel that held him firmly in place even though he wanted nothing more than to sink to the metal below him and curl up around his injuries. He had severed all his connections in the moment of his pain; a reflex gesture to prevent others from suffering just in case he should lose his control and broadcast.

The only thing he could feel was that one critical factor which enabled him to feel in the first place -- EX.

And in that next moment, he felt three distinct minds come alight with EX.

And then they merged into one.

And after that, the universe stopped.

Cliffhanger! Yes, I'm evil, why do you ask?

--Kay Willow, who hasn't yet finished the next chapter and is probably done with her little burst of productivity
MK Info Site: http://flash.to/dualpotential/
Blog: http://kay_willow.livejournal.com/
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com
Contact: (AIM) Savinsilk, (MSN) see email, (Yahoo) kay_willow