Broad Disclaimer: Cause I got caught up in writing the last few chapters, I
kinda forgot a disclaimer in them. So here it is for all those missed
times and any times I might miss it in the future. I am not privy to the
ownership of Gundam Wing or any ideas that I may decide to borrow from
other series. I do own all original characters except one, which Seasyngr
has so graciously loaned to me.
*****
The firewalls had proven no small task to get through, but Robyn had done it after several minutes of guesswork. She could not understand the encryption that guarded the information behind them, however, and was toiling to break through them. The computer kept beeping at her, but she ignored it.
A single drop of sweat trickled down her face, carving a path through the dust and dirt from the underground. In annoyance, she wiped it away, accidentally knocking the computer out of her hands. It clattered to the ground, but did not shut down or disconnect.
She held her breath. Almost distantly, she heard a conversation play out from the tiny speakers. The voices were both very distinct. One belonged to the Colonel, the other to the Gundam pilot. They were arguing.
"I can get you out of here alive, if you just trust me."
"Why should I believe you? Why would I believe that you'd just let me waltz out of here? How can I be sure this is not some sort of deception to let my guard down?"
"God dammit! If you weren't so anal, maybe you would understand what this is all about!"
"Anal?"
"Yes! This isn't about you or me anymore! Because we do what we do, thousands of people will die tonight, if you didn't listen to me! Ask yourself, is that what you want?"
"No. But people will die? How?"
"There is a traitor in our mist, a man who has no idea what his virulent hatred will do to everyone in that stadium."
"One man will kill everything inside there? How?"
"There are several options. They include an attack with his Mobile Suit, explosives, or a gas attack through the air ventilation systems."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Stop him. We'll watch out here. You need to check the air room, since that's the easiest to do. You succeed, you get out of here alive. You fail, I will enter that cloud of gas and execute you myself."
"I need some collateral that I will get out safely. Otherwise, no deal."
A slight pause. "I have the access codes to every major OZ installation on Earth and in orbit. They are holding one of the Gundams as a test subject in one. I can give you the code to get it out of there. But you must leave now. On my honor as a soldier, you will get out alive."
There was only static after that. She stared in horror at the machine that had just played the recording. She would not have guessed. Her commanding officer was a traitor. Slowly, hesitantly, she grabbed the computer and ascended through the hole to the streets above. She had to report this.
*****
It had been such a relief to hold the ball after almost getting benched. Jamal slowly rotated it in his grip. Because of interesting plays by both sides, the score had escalated to 34-33 Raiders. They wanted a win, but the defense had hunkered down and was letting nothing through.
He thought of all the time he had spent training for this moment, but nothing seemed to fix the problem at hand. How was he going to get through the defense? A memory rose unbidden to the top of his mind.
He had been five years old, living in the streets because they had been evicted from their house. All he, his mother, and his three brothers had had was a determination to succeed. One day his mother had found a small piece of gold stuck under a car. It was no more than a fleck, but it would have made their life substantially better.
He had tried to get the piece out, failing at every try. But his mother had told him, "You will do this."
She had said nothing else, but on his next attempt he managed to lift the car just enough for his youngest brother to slip the piece out and into the mother's expectant hands.
He shook his head, dispelling the memory. This was not the time for memories; instead, he focused on what his mother had said to him. "You will do this."
He scanned the grim faces around him and thought, "We will do this."
Every pair of eyes glanced into his and saw the determination that blazed in them. "You will do this," they told him.
Jamal felt a new strength well up in him at the thought of those words.
"I will do this."
*****
The crack of the cloth resounded as it snapped at speeds aster than many people could imagine. It danced around before snaking into its target, a blow that knocker back the Archer. Before it could get up, a wave of energy surged and brought unbelievable pain to Rynn as his beloved Suit began to overheat and malfunction. He felt the blood rising to his face. How could he be losing so badly?
"No!" His scream of torture echoed across the rooftops and he grabbed the cloth, twisting it free from Vick's grip. It spun, the energy dissipating as it lost the source of its power. He flung it aside, rising on engines powered by his anger. The saber came out, flaring as it swung around to cleave the head from his target.
It was not to be. The saber wound up buried in the wall, jets of energy jumping away like angry gnats. He felt his rage activate senses that he never knew existed, activating an intuitive sixth sense. Rather than see the motions of his enemy, he felt them. His eyes closed, he was able to respond like few others could: with the precision of a machine.
Without a second thought, he pulled his bow and trained it where he knew Vick would be. He launched a shot that arched and imbedded itself in the face of Vick's Suit. A burst of static blew across all the channels and he sprang forward, the second saber in hand. As he descended, he heard a voice.
"Stop it, Rynn."
A blow lashed out that knocked him off balance long enough for the precisely calculated blow to miss. It skewered the rocks on the ground just feet from where it was intended. He roared and turned, the bow firing a single exploding quarrel that detonated in the Colonel's face. For a single moment, he became sick to his stomach but then remembered who was his enemy now. Swiftly, he plucked his saber from next to the smoking Suit next to him and dashed forward, intending to debilitate him before he could move.
"What happened to you, Rynn?"
Ignoring the voice, he pulled a lever that armed a quarrel. It was designed to explode on impact, a small explosion with the effect of a nuclear weapon. It was his only one and he had no idea of what it would do. But an enemy as ruthless as Tobias had to be killed without hesitation.
"We can still negotiate, Rynn."
"No. We cannot. I just committed genocide. I purposely took the lives of seventy THOUSAND people because I could. I am an enemy to the government. I am an enemy to you. Now die!"
The bolt flew true, its lethal payload delivering enough force to destroy a city to the single Suit. There was a brief silence before it exploded, a parody of the peace and stillness most people expected. Then the shock wave flew out, a layer of air that flattened buildings in the abandoned district of the city.
*****
We are winding down now with three seconds left to play, Tom. If that Falcons offense can't work some magic, they're going to lose.
It would be such a pity, too. To play so hard and be down by two? Let's see what they can come up with.
They have a lot of options, since they ARE at the 5-yard line. But like I said earlier, they will need some serious magic to get out of this with a win.
The beads of sweat were shining in the spotlights, running down every man's face in the final seconds. With the score 42-40, there was no margin for error. Either they scored or they didn't, it was simple as that.
The offense had lined up in kicking formation. The defense lined up to stop it. The ball was snapped and the kicker grabbed it. Sprinting, he dodged both the defenders that were on him almost immediately. He twirled once and saw the time vanish. The end zone was just ahead.
From behind he felt someone grab him and drag him down. At the same time, a flag flew in the corner of his vision. He hit the ground and tumbled, lying in defeat.
He heard the announcers crowning the winners but could not believe the surreality of the moment. He sat.
Jamal hung his head as well and walked to the bench. He had failed his team. If only he had played his best. If only he had not let threats get in the way of the game. If only. But from ahead, he saw a ref raise his hands and signal a penalty.
They had been given another chance. His head lolled back and he grinned. Slowly he put his helmet on and trotted back onto the field. This time, we will do this right.
They lined up again, the kicker standing back again. The entire stadium had fallen silent, the atmosphere of a morgue prevalent. They knew that this single play would decide who won the Super Bowl. Breathlessly they waited.
Slowly, the ball was hiked and placed down. The kicker sprinted forward and nailed it. It spiraled lazily through the air but appeared to be falling short. Jamal fell to his knees and prayed for a miracle.
*****
The firewalls had proven no small task to get through, but Robyn had done it after several minutes of guesswork. She could not understand the encryption that guarded the information behind them, however, and was toiling to break through them. The computer kept beeping at her, but she ignored it.
A single drop of sweat trickled down her face, carving a path through the dust and dirt from the underground. In annoyance, she wiped it away, accidentally knocking the computer out of her hands. It clattered to the ground, but did not shut down or disconnect.
She held her breath. Almost distantly, she heard a conversation play out from the tiny speakers. The voices were both very distinct. One belonged to the Colonel, the other to the Gundam pilot. They were arguing.
"I can get you out of here alive, if you just trust me."
"Why should I believe you? Why would I believe that you'd just let me waltz out of here? How can I be sure this is not some sort of deception to let my guard down?"
"God dammit! If you weren't so anal, maybe you would understand what this is all about!"
"Anal?"
"Yes! This isn't about you or me anymore! Because we do what we do, thousands of people will die tonight, if you didn't listen to me! Ask yourself, is that what you want?"
"No. But people will die? How?"
"There is a traitor in our mist, a man who has no idea what his virulent hatred will do to everyone in that stadium."
"One man will kill everything inside there? How?"
"There are several options. They include an attack with his Mobile Suit, explosives, or a gas attack through the air ventilation systems."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"Stop him. We'll watch out here. You need to check the air room, since that's the easiest to do. You succeed, you get out of here alive. You fail, I will enter that cloud of gas and execute you myself."
"I need some collateral that I will get out safely. Otherwise, no deal."
A slight pause. "I have the access codes to every major OZ installation on Earth and in orbit. They are holding one of the Gundams as a test subject in one. I can give you the code to get it out of there. But you must leave now. On my honor as a soldier, you will get out alive."
There was only static after that. She stared in horror at the machine that had just played the recording. She would not have guessed. Her commanding officer was a traitor. Slowly, hesitantly, she grabbed the computer and ascended through the hole to the streets above. She had to report this.
*****
It had been such a relief to hold the ball after almost getting benched. Jamal slowly rotated it in his grip. Because of interesting plays by both sides, the score had escalated to 34-33 Raiders. They wanted a win, but the defense had hunkered down and was letting nothing through.
He thought of all the time he had spent training for this moment, but nothing seemed to fix the problem at hand. How was he going to get through the defense? A memory rose unbidden to the top of his mind.
He had been five years old, living in the streets because they had been evicted from their house. All he, his mother, and his three brothers had had was a determination to succeed. One day his mother had found a small piece of gold stuck under a car. It was no more than a fleck, but it would have made their life substantially better.
He had tried to get the piece out, failing at every try. But his mother had told him, "You will do this."
She had said nothing else, but on his next attempt he managed to lift the car just enough for his youngest brother to slip the piece out and into the mother's expectant hands.
He shook his head, dispelling the memory. This was not the time for memories; instead, he focused on what his mother had said to him. "You will do this."
He scanned the grim faces around him and thought, "We will do this."
Every pair of eyes glanced into his and saw the determination that blazed in them. "You will do this," they told him.
Jamal felt a new strength well up in him at the thought of those words.
"I will do this."
*****
The crack of the cloth resounded as it snapped at speeds aster than many people could imagine. It danced around before snaking into its target, a blow that knocker back the Archer. Before it could get up, a wave of energy surged and brought unbelievable pain to Rynn as his beloved Suit began to overheat and malfunction. He felt the blood rising to his face. How could he be losing so badly?
"No!" His scream of torture echoed across the rooftops and he grabbed the cloth, twisting it free from Vick's grip. It spun, the energy dissipating as it lost the source of its power. He flung it aside, rising on engines powered by his anger. The saber came out, flaring as it swung around to cleave the head from his target.
It was not to be. The saber wound up buried in the wall, jets of energy jumping away like angry gnats. He felt his rage activate senses that he never knew existed, activating an intuitive sixth sense. Rather than see the motions of his enemy, he felt them. His eyes closed, he was able to respond like few others could: with the precision of a machine.
Without a second thought, he pulled his bow and trained it where he knew Vick would be. He launched a shot that arched and imbedded itself in the face of Vick's Suit. A burst of static blew across all the channels and he sprang forward, the second saber in hand. As he descended, he heard a voice.
"Stop it, Rynn."
A blow lashed out that knocked him off balance long enough for the precisely calculated blow to miss. It skewered the rocks on the ground just feet from where it was intended. He roared and turned, the bow firing a single exploding quarrel that detonated in the Colonel's face. For a single moment, he became sick to his stomach but then remembered who was his enemy now. Swiftly, he plucked his saber from next to the smoking Suit next to him and dashed forward, intending to debilitate him before he could move.
"What happened to you, Rynn?"
Ignoring the voice, he pulled a lever that armed a quarrel. It was designed to explode on impact, a small explosion with the effect of a nuclear weapon. It was his only one and he had no idea of what it would do. But an enemy as ruthless as Tobias had to be killed without hesitation.
"We can still negotiate, Rynn."
"No. We cannot. I just committed genocide. I purposely took the lives of seventy THOUSAND people because I could. I am an enemy to the government. I am an enemy to you. Now die!"
The bolt flew true, its lethal payload delivering enough force to destroy a city to the single Suit. There was a brief silence before it exploded, a parody of the peace and stillness most people expected. Then the shock wave flew out, a layer of air that flattened buildings in the abandoned district of the city.
*****
We are winding down now with three seconds left to play, Tom. If that Falcons offense can't work some magic, they're going to lose.
It would be such a pity, too. To play so hard and be down by two? Let's see what they can come up with.
They have a lot of options, since they ARE at the 5-yard line. But like I said earlier, they will need some serious magic to get out of this with a win.
The beads of sweat were shining in the spotlights, running down every man's face in the final seconds. With the score 42-40, there was no margin for error. Either they scored or they didn't, it was simple as that.
The offense had lined up in kicking formation. The defense lined up to stop it. The ball was snapped and the kicker grabbed it. Sprinting, he dodged both the defenders that were on him almost immediately. He twirled once and saw the time vanish. The end zone was just ahead.
From behind he felt someone grab him and drag him down. At the same time, a flag flew in the corner of his vision. He hit the ground and tumbled, lying in defeat.
He heard the announcers crowning the winners but could not believe the surreality of the moment. He sat.
Jamal hung his head as well and walked to the bench. He had failed his team. If only he had played his best. If only he had not let threats get in the way of the game. If only. But from ahead, he saw a ref raise his hands and signal a penalty.
They had been given another chance. His head lolled back and he grinned. Slowly he put his helmet on and trotted back onto the field. This time, we will do this right.
They lined up again, the kicker standing back again. The entire stadium had fallen silent, the atmosphere of a morgue prevalent. They knew that this single play would decide who won the Super Bowl. Breathlessly they waited.
Slowly, the ball was hiked and placed down. The kicker sprinted forward and nailed it. It spiraled lazily through the air but appeared to be falling short. Jamal fell to his knees and prayed for a miracle.