Author's Notes: Yep, I'm definitely near the end of this fic. I think two more chapters after this one, maybe three. And it's my favourite fic to write so just wanted to say thanks to whoever reads it. This is a longish chapter, and the next may be longer. And *gasp* something tragic happens here!
Big Thanks to aleris, mya, Rhea-chan (ahem, your agreement, ahem), Little Blossom.
Slipping AwayChapter 9: Phoenix To Ashes
Yana stretched, leaning back into his chair and putting his feet up on his glass desk. The sun's light streamed in an angry red, the hazy skies distorting the colours like warped steel. He felt different today, more alive than any of the others, skin prickling with the anticipation of having another world to play in, to explore and control. His generals were arduously filtering all their scenarios through their mental logistics, filling the blanks for 'what if' and 'how do we?' Meanwhile he waited, impatiently and feeling happier than he had for a long time. A strange, exotic land with endless things to see.
He hadn't been happy for a while, like having a gradual indifference to life root itself into his consciousness for the past decade. There were those little distractions that he felt alive for a moment—the resistance, various uprisings, plans to tunnel, but they didn't provide any prolonged satisfaction, and life was, as he rationalized it, all about finding pleasure.
It all had to do with luck and skill. He couldn't feel sorry or sympathize with those who criticized him for being heartless and spoiled. It wasn't his fault that he had the determination, luck and will that led him to his throne. It could've been the next person over in his shoes. It just proved that he had the right to rule; he was only finding his full potential and there was no golden rule about being denied the right to achieve. Fair was fair, wasn't it?
He couldn't understand the populous, why they complained and suffered, especially those in the resistance. They had the want to live better but wouldn't take the initiative above crude little rebellions and thefts to really change things. And for Yana, nothing would've been better than to have a worthy adversary, someone to actually try and take away all he had. There would've been that excitement, that pounding of the heart, that danger that stirred him. In the early days of the Resistance he had poured endless nights into planning counter strategies and preventative measures like an absorbing game of chess, capture and sacrifice, but sadly the Resistance wasn't that sought after rival. And in end, it was only a bother, like a mosquito that one could only ignore for so long before smashing it under one's palm.
Yana loved to play, childish in a sense, bearing with it all the misconceptions of youth—being guaranteed the victor and that the only thing that mattered was himself. His value system never faltered, leading him onward without learning the valuable lessons of knowing loss and making mistakes. And yet in another sense, he wasn't a child; he knew the consequences of his actions, knew the value of power and money, understood the give and take between the members of his administration. But somewhere in himself was missing the crucial linkage between compassion and drive, the actual realization of the emotional cost of his playing.
He clicked the intercom on his desk, the crackling static like crinkled chocolate foil. "Get me General Hasaki."
"Yes sir," the nasal secretary replied.
There was a discreet knock at the door, nothing more than a drumming of fingers across the wood. Yana uprighted himself, linking his hands in front of him, the picture of attention. "Come in."
The elderly general stood rigidly in front of Yana, uniform fleckless and black boots like a dark mirror. "You wanted to speak to me, sir."
"Yep." Yana abandoned his arch manner, leaning back against the chair, feet tapping out a maddeningly erratic rhythm. "I wanted to see how the preparations were coming along."
"Very good sir. There've been a few setbacks but my sergeants tell me that we can begin our invasion in a week."
"A week?" Yana frowned, the prospect of a seven-day wait displeasing. "Can't we hurry them up?"
Hasaki coughed neutrally. "A full scale invasion needs a lot of man power sir, and we simply haven't gotten all the organization ready yet."
Yana's tapping turned to his fingers, thumping like gongs against the mostly bare glass desk surface. He had retained the childlike notion that between points A and B was a clear-cut straight line, that each problem had a very simple and obvious answer. "Well then don't have a full scale invasion. I'm sure a few of my missiles will be enough for my purposes. And that means we don't need your thousands of men. Actually…" He trailed off, mentally ticking his options. "Actually I'll send in a scouting mission tonight and find the best place to tunnel, and then we can invade in two days or even tomorrow."
"Sir…" Hasaki trailed off, hastily biting off his protest at the sight of Yana's building irritation. "As you wish. However, as you know there is a matter of some Resistance members to deal with."
Yana arched a disinterested eyebrow. "Oh, Daidouji and her accomplices on the other world? I suppose they will have to be dealt with. Add a few more scouts to tonight's mission and arm then with whatever cards you deem appropriate."
"Understood. Would you like to see the full roster on the mission for tonight after I've assembled them?"
"No need. I trust your judgment." Yana gave a very disarming smile, not without its own genuineness but intermingled with a vicious indifference that seemed to say he wouldn't shirk from having Hasaki publicly dismembered for fun.
Hasaki quickly withdrew, footsteps fading down the hall. Yana turned his thoughts back to his plans, the ripple of enjoyment coursing through him once again. He sighed blissfully, painting the vivid landscapes and people that were beyond the portal in his head.
In many ways Yana wasn't the picture of tyranny, not the despot with the grave bloodiness of mass slaughter constantly in his thoughts. His thoughts most of the time were innocuous as the rest of humanity, little worries about the home, wondering over curious things, recalling unguarded memories. There could almost be a sense of friendship between him and those around him if that lurking force of his personality didn't strike a wholly sour note once people knew him better. Superficiality was his friend, the gloss of him smiling benevolently and encouragingly ruling through two-dimensional media. In person he inspired fear, a thick twisted sense of morality and conflict resolution warping his otherwise charming smile into something sinister.
He sighed happily, reclining and shut his eyes to daydream.
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Tomoyo arose quietly, careful not to wake Syaoran sleeping on the couch. She twisted a kink from her neck with quick precision. She yawned hard expelling a sleepy breath and raked her fingers through her long hair. Fistfuls of hair, she combed them quickly with her fingers, breaking through knots and wincing silently as some strands pulled from her scalp. She sat up, eyes darting to the window, momentarily affronted by the orange light of morning. It wasn't the perpetual red of her world, and the sky wasn't choked with an impenetrable layer of dust and debris. Noiselessly, she approached the balcony, sliding open the door and stepping into the morning's wet cool air. The world opened up in front of her, fantasy turned real, memory relived. "We had that…"
"Twenty years ago," someone finished. Tomoyo snapped her head to the right, her reflexes to lean into a defensive position and hands grabbing for her waist where her gun would usually rest. Sakura stood on the adjacent bedroom balcony, leaning over the rails. She didn't smile, but remained transfixed on the street below. "Wonderful isn't it? We had this…"
Tomoyo nodded, taking a deep breath air and absorbing the blessed normality of everything around her. "Makes you think that everything could be okay."
Sakura quirked an eyebrow, smiling. "I'm not detecting a bit of optimism from Daidouji Tomoyo am I?"
"I guess you can't help it when you see all those people down there smiling and laughing." Tomoyo paused, taking an appraising look at Sakura. "How are you doing?"
Sakura straightened and sighed, giving a dry cough. "It's getting worse. I need a vial everyday now."
"Oh; how many do you have left?"
"The way it's going, I'll probably last another week or so."
"Are you feeling okay?"
Sakura looked upwards, watching a cloud slide across the blue. She smiled. "I don't feel as bad as I probably should. It's strange, but I'm actually a little happy."
Tomoyo allowed her mouth to turn upward slightly. "Syaoran?"
"Yeah. I know he's not my Syaoran but I don't know, I feel better with him around."
"It sounds strange Sakura, but I envy you. You found love for a while; that's something I've never known."
Sakura laughed mirthlessly. "Well, you're not the one dying. After we stop Yana, you'll have plenty of time here to look for someone."
Tomoyo's voice was disinterested, flat. "Will I? All I've known for a long time has been the Resistance. It won't be easy to lead a normal life…" A low moan came from behind her. "Sounds like Syaoran's awake. You better go get ready; you've got work to do."
Sakura nodded, stepping halfway into the bedroom before walking out again. "I have faith in you, Tomoyo." She walked off the balcony, disappearing into the dimness of Syaoran's bedroom.
Tomoyo looked to the city skyline. "Thanks, Sakura."
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Nakuru chewed thoughtfully, watching Tomoyo's vacant stare from across the dining table. "The food bad?"
Tomoyo stirred, automatically picking up her sandwich. "God no, this is probably the best thing I've had for over a year. I'm just thinking about what we're going to do when the time comes."
"We'll do what we always do. Fight."
"Against his whole army? The way I see it we have three possible scenarios."
Nakuru dropped her spoon into her soup, pushing the bowl aside. As usual, planning and the fight superceded any semblance of peace. "Three?"
"Best case, worst case, and somewhere in between. Best case is we get to the tunnel right as they open it and collapse it. Simple and quick. Worst case is if we get there too late and Yana's already got his heavy weaponry and army through. In that case, we'll be fighting like hell and we're all but screwed. I think we'll probably get something between those two cases. We'd have to fight our way through the army and collapse the tunnel before the weaponry gets through."
"You make it almost sound easy," Nakuru sarcastically commented.
"Don't I? The invasion's close; I can feel it. All our work's come down to this, all our reconnaissance and planning. We have to make a full plan today now that we've got a good idea of what this Tomoeda looks like. I'm having Syaoran and Sakura collapse the tunnel so that means you and I are going to be handling the emerging Corpsmen."
"Great, like a walk in the park."
"Luckily, we've got a tunnel tracker with us. We'll most likely get there early and only have to deal with a dozen or so Corpsmen."
"Yeah." Both relapsed into silence, finishing their lunches waiting for the calmness seep back into the air. It didn't.
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Yana gave a yawn, lazily turning another page. The small fine print lost its clarity as the sun's red impression began to dim appreciably. He carefully placed a bookmark against the spine and lay the tome on the table. The sunsets weren't spectacular anymore like twenty years ago, but certainly interesting to watch. The red intensified steadily as the orb sank, but then choked out of existence into gray black when it hit the densest layer of debris in the air.
He stepped out of the balcony and back into his living room. The phone was ringing. "Yes?"
The voice on the other end bore down respectfully and solemnly. "Sir, this is General Hasaki. I've finished preparations for the scouting mission. They are planning to embark in three hours time on the hour and return two hours after landing."
"Very good Hasaki. Have their commander meet me directly after he has returned."
"Understood."
Yana replaced the receiver and stared unseeingly at a framed piece of art. He felt his heartbeat thrum in his chest, warmth coursing along his limbs. This was excitement; this was all that made life important. Who knew, he might be in his new paradise by tomorrow… He sat down on the couch and let himself drift among the various pleasant thoughts in his head.
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Tomoyo felt the familiar lurching motion of her gun as its cartridge locked into place. For over ten years she'd known the cool slick touch of a gun, the same shuddering motion of each release. It was an extension of herself, and as much as she wished it weren't, it'd probably always be a part of her. She inherited the position of regional Resistance leader, years working in the darkest places, alone, in silent groups, but always isolated one way or another.
As she looked around her, the clean apartment, the bright unfaltering sunset light that shone into the room, the clear air, the unblurred city skyline, she was aware of all that she missed. Shut off from herself so long there wasn't any time for knowing that she had hope, that maybe there was something more than revenge that drove her. And yet, she wasn't a martyr; she killed and stole and did whatever was necessary for her goals. She grudgingly accepted that she had become Yana. The end always seemed to justify the means.
But she'd made a silent promise to herself that she'd never become him. When everything was over, she'd still be able to say she did something that she was proud of. Unconsciously she sought redemption for a reason she didn't know.
The phone rang. Tomoyo continued taking equipment from her pack She pulled out the cards, a few extra guns, the cubed fuel. She fit an earpiece snugly into her ear, attaching the thin microphone wire to her face with a strip of elastic tape. Another ring. Nakuru stood in front of the windows, swiveling around and watching the blinking screen in her hand. Another ring.
Tomoyo flipped quickly though the cards, quickly picking out those of use. She slipped ten cards into her pack and strapped her holster around her waist. The answering machine picked up. Tomoyo listened to Syaoran's message, checking the remaining pile of cartridges in front of her. "Looks like we're down a person." A final check of her pockets, she tested out her limbs, moving them around fluidly, limber and strong.
Nakuru remained silent, standing at the balcony windows. She tensed. "There's a power spike building somewhere east of here. It might be a tunnel."
"Then we can't waste any time." Tomoyo took up her gun, fitting it snugly in its holster.
Nakuru strapped her weapon to her thigh, giving a strange vain examination of her likeness in the window. Her reflected red lips curled. "Let's go; we've only got fifteen minutes."
They rushed up four flights up the stairs, throwing open the last thick metal door. The roof blew of solitude, cool and humid. The path of broken ledges, tarmac ground and weathered mouldings stood between Syaoran's apartment and the point of emergence. Quick footsteps, rat-tat-tat across the tops of buildings, both women closed the distance like blearing shadows skimming across the skyline.
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The harbor glistened with activity, slow large ships crossing the waters, workers unloading and loading midnight shipments, bars alive with drunken activity. The overpowering stench of fish and grease saturated the air. "The power signature's really strong now. The tunnel's probably already open; we're two blocks off."
"Damn. We'll have to hurry; we can't risk them sending reinforcements." Tomoyo rappelled from the top of a cannery, landing with a scrape of boots.
Nakuru flashed a signal down at Tomoyo as she quickly leapt onto the adjoining rooftop. She pressed her earpiece closer to her head, taking another jump. "Make a right, down past this next warehouse." Her heels crashed, harsh, metallic, as she bounded to the slanting tin sheets. The scanner in her hand jumped. "I'm in place." Nakuru took a cautious look over the edge, the alley below her empty save for a pulsing portal. She trailed a hand down her thigh, feeling the metal of the remote. "I see the portal; I don't think any of the Corps are here yet."
"Good," came Tomoyo's voice in Nakuru's ear. Tomoyo appeared in the alley gun already drawn and directed ahead. "Activate." The circle icon blazed in the darkness. Tomoyo crouched low to the ground, gun aimed at the tunnel. "Shut it down."
Nakuru turned her attention to her hand, the remote buttons jutting out for her attention. "Close." The device hummed as the tunnel beneath her glowed with closure, sending off sharp waves of light, folding into non-existence. She narrowed her eyes, one of the final bursts of light curving around the profile of a uniformed man in the shadows. "It's an ambush!"
Tomoyo flipped to her side sharply at Nakuru's warning, a smooth blade of metal slicing across her leg, the same position where her back had just been. She jerked backward to face the Corpsman, gun discharging. The energy brushed him, falling him to one knee. "Shit." Almost feeling the shadow enveloped corps, she hurtled down the alleyway, suddenly aware of the energy discharges that repeated grate on her shield.
Nakuru stood up quickly, distractingly. "Hey!" She framed herself in the moonlight, gun pointed downward, lips brutally red. Grimly amused, she reflected she always had a touch for the dramatic. Several spheres of energy came up to meet her, dissipating around her shield. She fired after a few figures chasing after Tomoyo out of the alleyway but failed to hit them, finding them out of range. She leapt to the other rooftop, discharging into the shadows. Shouted commands came from below as her blasts deflected off raised shields, flickering like rapid lightening flashes. Apparently her gun wouldn't work here. Fishing a cube of sand from her pocket, she blew against it, the granules descending between the two buildings, instant haze obscuring vision.
Leaping down into the fog, she spied two vague silhouettes facing the other way, poised on the attack. Curling her fingers around the rubber grip of her knife, she flattened herself against the wall. Slow footsteps. One foot, inches closer. No breath as she stood behind them, blade ready. She struck nearly noiselessly, only a rustle of cloth and some quick moans before the sleek edge cut them off. Unfortunately, the feeble echoes rebounded along the brick walls, a wave of weapons discharges slamming against her shield from smeared blobs in the dark. Her shield wouldn't hold for long. She flung a card against the brick, the zigzag glyph activated. "Collapse." With barely enough time to tumble out of the alley, the brick seemed to melt then crack, raining into a jumble of debris. A thick cloud of dust flew up to meet her breath. She coughed and surveying the destruction. The wall and much of the roof of the warehouse had come down in a pile of brick clumps and metal beams. There were no signs of the Corps; she heaved a deep musty breath.
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Tomoyo gritted her teeth, the energy discharges behind her breaking through shield's defenses. With a wounded leg, she hobbled down the wharf, throwing herself into the nearest alley. Two corpsmen passed by, sprinting along the original walk.
She forced breath through clenched teeth and carefully rolled up her left pant leg, grimacing in pain at the dark blackish stain. Tracing a finger across the laceration, she smiled grimly. The wound was a fairly deep but clean, cut diagonal across her the outside of her calf. It wasn't bleeding much but opened painfully every time she moved that leg. She took out her own knife, carefully slicing strips from her stained pants, gingerly tying them across the wound. A flash of pain jolted through her, and she hoped she'd be able to pick off the rest of the corps before she was completely immobilized.
The sound of water splashing and clunking moorings bounded eerily from the dock behind her. Tomoyo slinked along the alley wall, making her way away from the bay. There was a quick rustle to her right. She twisted herself around against the left wall, just quick enough to avoid a fist emerging from a darkened doorway. The corpsman's face appeared immediately after, striking out with a knife. Tomoyo gripped the man's wrist, twisting it downward until the blade dropped to the ground with a clink. He shoved her backward, banging harshly against the wall and throwing a punch again. Tomoyo moved her head to the right, the man's knuckle crunching against concrete. He swore and she took advantage, sending a swift knee into his gut and crushing an elbow against his bowed head. The soldier slumped to the ground, crumpling.
Tomoyo stepped over the corpsman, throwing herself into the doorway. There were rapid footsteps of people running nearby. She felt for the door's knob, twisting it. It wasn't locked. The warehouse was fairly dark, walls of metal barrels lining all four sides. They were cool to the touch, almost icy, a thin red emblem of flames captioned with 'Caution' branded on them. She took a few more steps inside, feeling the strange stirring in her stomach that came with knowing she was being watched. She reached for her gun, circling around to watch the darkness and wonder where the other soldiers were.
There was a tapping sound somewhere above her. She broke into a sprint in the opposite direction. A barrage of energy blasts suddenly erupted from hiding places around her, the discharges slamming against what remained of her shield. With an abrupt sound of wind roaring, the shield card failed, burning blasts flying past her. The heat was intense, and she tried to dodge them by diving for a large crate. An energy discharge skimmed by her, searing through the cord of her pack. Her holster and pouch dropped away from her, the cards falling out of their pocket and scattering across the floor like silver splayed matchbooks. She landed hard a foot short of the crate. The gunfire pressed closer; her own gun was inaccessible at least three feet away. "Damn." Tomoyo quickly snatched up the nearest card and flung herself behind the crate.
The whoosh of guns tapered into silence. There were scuffling footsteps, getting closer and fanning off to the sides. Tomoyo cursed under her breath; they were trapping her in. She backed up, finding herself dead-ended against an island of metal barrels. A voice came from the dark, just as four corpsmen stepped into view around her, two to the right, two to the left. "Surrender yourself."
There wasn't much Tomoyo could do. She got up to see the commander looming just in front of the crate, his gun drawn and pointed levelly at her face. His eyes flicked up momentarily at the card in her hand. He sneered. "If that's a Shield card, we can kill you before you can summon it."
Tomoyo knew that they could, but probably wouldn't. A drop of sweat trailed its way down the right side of her face. She wouldn't have been as nervous if she knew there was the guarantee of death. But she couldn't be sure, and Yana had ways to make people talk. If this mission failed, the Resistance had to go on. She was too valuable a member to be captured; she knew too much. "I surrender." She held up her arms obediently.
Tomoyo stole a quick glance to her right hand up in the air, metal card glinting in between her fingers, a forked line icon on the silver base. She closed her eyes and pressed herself close to the canisters, the metallic ridges digging into her back. She would keep the Resistance's secrets to the end. With almost a small triumphant smile she stared hard at the commander's face, two feet off. He suspected nothing. "Ignite." The card whined to life and there was a small explosion, a bare moment before a much large one. Any screams were overtaken by the roar of oil drums bursting into flames.
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Nakuru flung her head toward the sound, a sudden rumble like intense thunder. The warehouse in the line of her vision exploded, a rapid heat infusing the surrounding air. She scrambled to her feet, taking running strides away from the obliterated building, away from the flames that licked furiously at everything near them. She gave a momentary pause knowing what this meant and turned her head resolutely away from the destruction. She didn't see a pale blue shimmer from a side dock; it folded itself away just before she passed her gaze over the spot. Hastily she wiped the lipstick off her lips, streaking the back of her had red, and let her hair fall flatly over a side of her face. She pushed into the developing crowd, losing herself in a sea of horrified gazes.
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Yana picked up the ringing phone, closing his book once again. "Yes?"
The voice on the other end faltered slightly. "Y-You wanted to be told when the scouting mission returned, sir."
Yana looked at the wall clock, thirty-five past midnight. "They're very early. Was there a problem?"
"Y-Yes sir. I think you would like to hear about it in person."
He sighed, getting himself off the couch. "Fine; have the commander meet me in my conference room."
"Sir, he's badly injured and can't be moved. We'll need to sedate him, and we thought it best that you talk to him before he's asleep. He's in medic room 3 in complex B-1."
Yana gave an exasperated groan. "Yes, fine. I'll be there in a few minutes." He set his face blank though he had a feeling he knew what had happened.
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A doctor met Yana as he approached the patient beds. "The patient is in the examination room, sir."
Yana followed the old man underneath the fluorescent lights into an organized, sterile room. The corpsman was prone on the table, a nurse standing over him asking various questions. The man saw Yana out of the corner of his eye and struggled to sit up, but the doctor restrained him. "S-sir."
Yana nodded at the doctor and stepped closer to stare down at the soldier. "Who are you?"
The patient spoke with willowy breaths. "I'm Corporal Masuhara sir."
"Where is your commander?"
"I don't know. We met the Resistance group. Some of us went after Daidouji, but Azukizi caught two of us by surprise and then collapsed a wall on the rest of us before we could follow."
Yana almost smiled. Azukizi could've gone far if she were still with him. "What about the rest of the group?"
The man grimaced in pain. "I don't know. I was at the end of the alley, only got hit by a few blocks. I don't think the others were as lucky. There was an explosion in a warehouse farther down the harbor. I didn't check for survivors; I tunneled back as soon as I could."
"And your mission?"
"We got some scans of the harbor area before Daidouji got there. They're in my scanner." Masuhara clutched at his side, taking jagged breaths.
The doctor was drawing a clear liquid into a syringe. "Sir?"
"Yes, yes, sedate him."
After Masuhara had quieted, Yana pulled the doctor away. "How badly is he injured?"
The doctor shrugged. "He's got a few broken ribs and we don't know if he's got internal bleeding, but I think he'll be fine."
"Good." Yana slipped into his gracious disarming smile. "Now, where is his scanner?"
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General Hasaki skimmed down the files, the computer's low glow angular against his features. "There's some possibility for this complex here." He pointed to a square outline on the screen.
Yana looked over Hasaki's shoulder. "I don't think so. It's too close to tonight's emergence point. Besides, the scans show that Daidouji came from the south and west."
"Sir, we don't have complete scans of Tomoeda. We can't take the risk of emerging randomly. We are confined to the harbour area right now. However, if we can send in another reconnaissance mission…"
Yana interrupted him sharply. "No, we're following my time table. As I was saying, since Daidouji came from the south and west, we should search for emergence points in the north, east too if we can manage it." Hasaki obediently moved the map up and to the right. He came up to the end of the scanning region. Yana squinted his eyes, going over the computer readouts on the bottom. "Zoom in on section twelve, building 1-C." The computer enlarged a rectangle on the edge of the water. Yana thumped the computer counter in victory. "That's it! That'll be the new emergence point. It's empty, it's large enough and we get a view of the bay. Perfect."
Hasaki gave a discreet cough, always preempting an attempt at asserting some logic. "Sir, Daidouji can track our tunneling. If she gets there…"
Yana rolled his eyes. "If she gets there, she's dead. We're at least a mile from tonight's site, and thus a mile farther away from Daidouji's base of operations. We'll probably have two of my battalions through before she even gets within earshot. She won't be a problem."
"Sir…"
"Hasaki, if you 'sir' me again, I won't be very pleasant." Hasaki clamped his mouth shut. "I'm glad you agree. Now let's get down to final planning. After all we've got a world to take over in a few hours don't we?"
Hasaki would've looked sad for a moment if his discipline hadn't prevented any show of emotion. "Yes, sir."
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Author's Note: Ooh, sorry for the character death, but it was really needed; I didn't want that kind of 'all the bad guys die, none of the good guys gets hurt' thing. It'd be too unrealistic. And everything's all action-adventurey now. Yay!