Chapter 19 - Time's Broken Boundaries
"HOW COULD YOU JUST LOOSE THEM SO EASILY?" the kings voice boomed over the loudspeakers in the mobile suit cruiser where Shawn was currently stationed after pursuing the Gundam shuttle. King Charles' purple face was taking up the entire screen on the cruisers flight deck. Shawn, still dressed in his spacesuit, tried to retell the events to his king.
"Your majesty, you must understand-" Shawn attemted to explain.
"ENOUGH! I'LL NOT LISTEN TO YOUR EXCUSES ANY LONGER!" the king bellowed. "You have acted out of British military regulations to supress a family feud you've set against this American pilot and his bloody friends. Honestly, if I weren't going to be your father-in-law, I'd-"
"JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE, BLOODY MINUTE YOU POMPOUS PRICK!" Shawn yelled back.
The gasps and surprised reactions of all the crew members aboard the cruiser suddenly caused the flight deck to be very quiet. Shawn looked to and fro at all his subordinates.
"What are you awl lukin' at?" Shawn snapped. (AN: Those aren't spelling errors, that's how I hear him talking)
"How dare you put yourself before your king, you insolent little bastard," the king hissed. "You are demoted to ensign for that outburst!"
"No, your majesty, surely-" Shawn fumbled, but to no avail.
"Report home at once! Out!" the king said.
The screen went blank, then Shawn slammed his fists on the console in front of him, cursing out loud every dirty word under the sun. Finally, after a jab that ultimately fried the circuits, he ended his tirade and just returned to his quarters.
Once there, he pulled a picture of his fiancee out and lay on his bunk. Studying her seductive curves, he barely noticed the summon from the flight deck.
"Ensign Chamberlin," the captain spoke.
"What?" Shawn snarled, angry that he was addressed as such a low rank.
"We have a report on the spot where the shuttle entered the Earth's atmosphere."
"AND?"
"Well, this is interesting, but it seems that there was a 'tear' in the very fabric of time that allowed them to go through to another time and possibly a new dimension."
"Hmm," Shawn pondered this. "Excellent! Give my regards to the good doctor."
"Affirmative, over and out."
The captain disappeared from the screen by Shawn's bunk. Shawn was much too tired to be dealing with this news just now. It would be curfew soon and the soldiers all had to report to their quarters at that time. He really didn't feel like sleeping, though, his brain was going through a constant redux of what had taken place.
-Flashback, Shawn's P.O.V.-
Christ, if I'm not careful, I could wind up dead! The oncoming spray of bullets from that shuttle is sure to catch my suit if I make even one wrong move. Several of my escorts have already been taken out, most of them the manned suits...I knew that evasive maneuver seminar was bullshit, anyway. Several mobile dolls have also been damaged to a serious point, so they won't do much. Suddenly, the spray ceases, praise God! Now's the time to act, so I increase my suit's velocity to attack speed.
However, by doing so, I have just placed myself into immediate danger. A wide, aqua beam was fired from the shuttle...I wonder how Tre managed to retro-fit his shuttle with such advanced weaponry! Or is it...no...it couldn't be!
Earlier, as I was being released from the suit hangar on the cruiser, I saw a mobile suit jump from that smaller shuttle to the one we are currently pursuing. I had my doubts at first, but I think it might be a Gundam. And if my research assistant is correct, that shuttle was carrying the Reigns family. Sources also told me that Pyrone Reigns has been selected as a Gundam pilot of the most advanced technology seen next to the Wing Zero. However, I also heard that Tre Young was a Gundam pilot, and even his Gundam is more advanced than the Wing Zero could ever hope to be.
Whatever is firing at me now, I don't want to get myself caught in the beam. I groan; the G forces are intense! They squeeze my body like a tube of toothpaste. I have to catch up to that shuttle. But then, a golden beam is fired.
"EVASIVE MANEUVERS!" I yell out to the remains of my battalion.
The moment I yell out, I have to strain against the opposing pressure of my controls to dodge the blast. Incredible! I just saw it eat through a mobile doll's shield and vaporize it. How in the world can this be? What sort of technology are these mad scientists playing with?
As I ponder this question, a scarlet beam races to my position. As I attempt to dodge this blast, I move too late and feel the awesome power of this beam's destructivity. My suit is getting very warm and is shaking uncontrollably. It's too hot! I'm suffocating on the very essence of life: heated oxygen. I see red all around me, the color floods my cockpit to the point of such intensity, that it seems impossible to see. Soon, the color fades and a horrible afterimage is produced. I see the faint green tint against a screen that reflects the outside environment of space. The cockpit seems to cool down a bit and I can check my damage.
Damn! I lost an arm in the blast; my suit's usefulness has dropped dramatically. Now I have no choice but run these foolish idiots into the atmosphere at a speed higher than is possibly safe. But...I see another motion on the top of the shuttle and...no! It's that same, bloody Gundam I have confronted in over five different situations, including this one. Now I have two to deal with? Fine! Bring it on!
I accelerate even more, to the highest speed obtainable in this suit. As I do, another spray of bullets is fired at me. I barely have time to look outside to see where the next bullet might be, so I just act without thinking. Looks as though my luck hasn't run out entirely, because I'm dodging all of them so far. Finally, the barrage ends and I can fly straight again. Suddenly, a wide beam gets to me before I can dodge it and again, I feel the intense heat and the violent vibration associated with it, only this time my cockpit is flooded with the golden light instead of the red. Soon, the beam dissipates and the cockpit cools down, then I come to find I have lost the other arm on my mobile suit. Then, I realize that if I continue to chase after them, I'll disintegrate in the heat of reentry. So I slam on the reverse thrusters and watch them speed away toward the atmosphere...hoping that they'll skip right off the atmosphere and die.
-End Flashback-
It seemed so surreal to Shawn that he was nearly deafeated and had lost track of a huge spacecraft containing such cargo that could easily overrun the British Mobile Suit Division. Shawn suddenly felt very guilty, like he had signed every British officer's death warrant. Sighing, he rose from his bunk and returned to the flight deck. It seems the captain was going to enter the same point that the pursued shuttle did in the atmosphere to see where it took them.
"I'm going against my better judgement here, Shawn," the captain said.
"I understand," Shawn said. "If an inquiry arises, I'll tell them it was my idea."
"But your in enough shit already!" the captain blurted.
"Harry, I know," Shawn soothed. "But you have a wife and four great kids to support. You haven't had one infraction on your record so you don't need to have one on there. Trust me, letting me take the fall would be a much better option."
"Right then," Capt. Harry said.
The captain accelerated the large craft to enter the atmosphere. As it penetrated the outermost layer of the exosphere, accompanied by the loud boom, a flash of white surrounded the craft and soon the red glow enveloped it. Violent vibrations were shaking the ship as it rammed into the air molecules, which became more and more dense as it passes through each layer of the atmosphere in descending order. Finally, it reached an altitude achieved only by the U-2.
"Navigation reports are in," a technician shouted.
"We are currently flying above Tokyo, Japan," the captain said.
"Tokyo, Japan, huh?" Shawn mused.
"The sensors are taking a reading of the city, now," the same technician announced.
"And what have we today?" Shawn asked.
"Sir, I'm not sure these are correct."
"What do they say, private?"
"They indicate the population is exact to that of the A.D. 1998 census calculations."
"Incredible!" Shawn breathed. "We've gone back over many centuries!"
"We can deploy suits immediately, if you would like, sir!" an ensign said.
"No, not another suit battle!" Shawn said. "Let's send a squadron down to hunt for them and we might get lucky. The last thing we want at the moment is to bring attention to ourselves."
"Sir!" the ensign saluted and left.
"What do you suppose you're going to do on Earth?" Capt. Harry asked.
"Probably stake out at a public place and hope they come," Shawn replied.
"Good plan," Harry said.
"Just be ready to release the troop pod, okay?"
"Sir!"
Shawn quickly went to his quarters to change out of his spacesuit. Floating out of his quarters in his red uniform, Shawn raced to the pod and took his seat. The restraint came over his head and shoulders and settled on the latter, also going across his abdomen. The hatch slid shut, then Shawn began his briefing.
"Right, then! Listen up, men!" he shouted. "We are looking for these seven pilots! Our mission is to seek-and-destroy, do not leave one living, understood?"
The soldiers all shouted their reply of, "Yes sir!" On several screens scattered about the cabin, the faces of seven young men flashed into view. As Shawn said each name, that picture stood out in the foreground.
"First is Heero Yuy, our codename for him on this mission is zebra. Although his appearence suggests a weak teenager, he is a lethal force who has killed an OZ officer not too long ago in his L1 colony. Exercise extreme caution.
"Next is Duo Maxwell, codename is dingo. His main characteristic is his meter-long braid, which allows him to stand out in crowds, so he will be an easy target.
"Trowa Barton, codename heron. Like zebra, heron is quick and lethal, however, heron apparently has more stealth than does zebra, according to our (AN: false) records. Still, exercise extreme caution around both.
"Quatre Winner, codename serpent. This boy is cunning and very brilliant in battlefield tactics. With surprising silence, he is able to subdue a soldier in no time at all. Again, exercise caution.
"Wufei Chang, codename alligator. The only one of the group whom has mastered the martial arts of the Chinese in the highest degree of his age. Do not underestimate his force for even a second, gentlemen.
"Tre Young, codename dove. One of the most dangerous and prominent of the group, dove here can easily kill all of us between close-range and long-range, so please observe the highest degree of caution and alertness you can muster with this one.
"Finally, Pyrone Reigns, codename bear. The second of the most dangerous and prominent, he is also capable of killing us all at close-range and long-range if need be. Please gentlemen, do take care.
"You will be equipped with MSCZRD-13s (AN: super destructive machine guns) and ten ammo clips; that's 7,000 extra rounds, boys. I expect you all to use it wisely and not waste it."
A green light flashed in the cabin and the restraints undid themselves. The men unloaded the pod on the roof of the mall, pointing their MSCZRD-13s every which way, sweeping their view for intruders who might botch the mission. Little did they know what was in store for them.
The pod lifted away from the roof as the team entered the roof door and got inside the mall. They split into two groups, one for each floor, then scattered around the mall.
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"Jesus Christ!" Tre yelled out loud to his friend. "What the fuck were you thinking Pyrone?"
"The same thing I always think when I'm pissed off!" Pyrone roared.
"YOU NEED TO CONTROL YOUR FUCKING TEMPER!!" Tre bellowed.
"YOU CAN SUCK MY BIG, FAT COCK!!" Pyrone barked back.
"Please, stop!" Quatre intervened. "We're suppossed to be a team, right?"
"How can we be a team when one of us decide's to lose his temper because he thought we won a whole fucking war when we didn't?" Tre sneered.
"Don't you start with me, Phantom!" Pyrone shouted.
The rest of the pilots didn't know what that meant, but Pyrone had obviously said something that cut deep into Tre. Tre had paused, finger pointed at Pyrone, with a look of hurt and disgust on his face. Then, his face changed into a sad scowl as he lowered his arm. Tears welled up in Tre's eyes as he said,
"How could you?"
"Tre, I'm sorry, that was low, dude," Pyrone said, very remorseful.
"HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU?" Tre bawled, tears streaking down his face.
"Tre, I know that was low, I'm sorry-" Pyrone was cut off.
Tre, full of rage, gave an almighty roar and Pyrone was caught off guard by a right-cross thrown right in his face by Tre. Pyrone staggered backwards, when Tre pounced on him. Like a roaring animal, Tre was using Pyrone like a carcass to tear into. It took almost a minute for the five other pilots to wrench Tre off of Pyrone. Even still, Tre was still teary-eyed and angry. Pyrone was hurt, no doubt, by the harsh coughs he heaved and his inability to stand on two feet. Tre had cracked a rib, but only to a hairline fracture.
"You asshole!" Tre yelled.
"I deserved that," Pyrone wheezed, then coughed.
"Why the fuck did you have to bring her up again?" Tre screamed. "Why?"
"It was a low-blow tactic that I shouldn't have used, and I'm so sorry," Pyrone said.
"I know this may not be a good time to be asking this," Trowa started, "but who are we talking about when we say 'her'?"
"You want me to tell them?" Pyrone said.
"No," Tre sniffed. "I'll tell them. Heero, you already know most of this, so it isn't any surprise to you."
"Yeah," Heero responded, coldly.
"OK, here goes," Tre sighed. "In the year After Colony one-nine-four, I had taken my Gundam out for a test flight that day, thinking I could impress my girlfriend when I
would take her home that day and we would fuck. But, as I went to go get it, three Leos invaded my colony and I got into a fight with them. As I destroyed the last one, it shot off a round from its rifle as the upper torso contacted the ground, and...she got hit by that round."
Duo gasped and Quatre simply said, "That's sad."
"That is why Tre is known as the Phantom of A.C. 194," Pyrone said. "Only we know that now; nobody else knows him by that name."
"And that's why I turned out more heartless than relaxed," Tre sniffed.
"Also why you're more of a soldier than a pilot," Trowa observed.
"Yes," Tre nodded.
"Come here, bro," Pyrone said, opening his arms.
Tre accepted, embracing Pyrone like a brother. The younger man just let go, sobbing like an abandoned child in a dark alley. Tre just let all the hurt, confusion, and anger out when he was crying. Pyrone patted his frined's head, muttering comforting words into his ear. After about ten minutes, Tre lifted himself off Pyrone and dried his eyes, giving a huge sniff to draw back the loose snot. Pyrone took a look at his shoulder, then made a funny face.
"Ewwwww," Pyrone mocked a child. "Youse gots boogers on me arm!"
Tre laughed, in spite of what he did. The other pilots were glad to see Tre in order, now that he and Pyrone were cool again.
Heero even dared to crack a smile; it seems that his time around his friends was thawing the cold shell around his heart, not to mention a certain someone. Relena may have been in love with Heero, but he just felt empty when he was with her. Serena seemed to be the perfect girl for him. With time, she could dissolve his cold soldier mentality with her warm exuberance. It seemed like all was well again, but-
"AH SHIT!" Wufei yelled.
"What?" Duo asked. "What is it, Wu-man?"
"I left my wallet back at the mall!" Wufei exclaimed.
"That sucks," Pyrone muttered.
"We have to go get it," Wufei said.
"How? The mall is closed, the security system is on-" Duo was cut off.
"To keep out any suspicious characters," Tre uttered.
"You want to break into the mall to get Wu-man's wallet?" Duo asked, panic-striken.
"Sure," Tre said, standing. "I could use some excitement."
"You're nuts!" Duo screamed.
"Maybe," Pyrone said. "But losing your wallet is no laughing matter."
"All right, let's go back!" Tre said, transforming into Sailor Universe.
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-At the mall-
"Whoa!" Duo commented. "This place is deserted!"
The entire parking lot was, for the most part, empty. A few cars remained, for they were either: 1) broken down, or 2)they weren't towed away yet. The orange glow of the parking lot lights spread over the bare spaces like a blanket.
What struck the boys as odd was the fact that their were lights on in the mall. Now, could that be the janitor? They didn't think so.
"What's up with the lights on inside?" Sailor Universe asked.
"Maybe somebody fell asleep in the mall and found the power switches?" Duo offered.
"Not likely," Quatre replied.
"Whatever it is, it can't be good," Trowa pondered. "I have a gut feeling about this."
"No, that's the frog legs you had tonight," Pyrone laughed.
"Let's check it out, guys," Heero said.
"Yeah! I don't want to be the person that stole my wallet," Wufei growled. "I'll bet
he's still in there, too."
The seven approached the building's portico, when Pyrone suddenly yelled out in pain.
"What's the matter?" Sailor Universe asked.
"That's the same bench where I made out tonight!" Pyrone mocked in surprise.
"Oh dear God," Universe chuckled. "Can we please just get in the mall?"
"Sure thing, Sailor Scout," Pyrone said.
Sailor Universe de-transformed into Tre Young, but wearing the 'black' outfit (trench coat, jeans, long-sleeve, etc.) instead of the one Tre wore earlier.
Tre took some electronic device out of his pocket and placed it near to where the securty sensor for the door was. He flipped a switch on the gadget, stepped back, leaned on his right foot, then smashed the glass with a swift left-foot kick. No alarms went off and the pilots had a nice hole to walk through.
"Gentlemen, if you'll please," Tre bowed them in.
After all six of the others went in, Tre took the device off the door frame and walked in.
Although the lights were on, very few were actually on. It almost seemed as if the place were being set up for a covert operation. But, the whole place seemed just fine to the G-boys.
"Let's split up," Tre suggested. "We'll cover more ground that way."
"Right!" they chorused.
"Trowa and Wufei will take the last place Wufei remembers having his wallet," Tre ordered. "Heero and Quatre, take the music store where we were earlier. Duo, you go
with Heero and Quatre. Pyrone and I will take the bottom floor."
"OK," Duo grinned.
"Great," Pyrone groaned, fake. "I'm stuck with you, AGAIN!"
"Shut up!" Tre shot back. "Get going now!"
The team split into their assigned groups and headed to their designated search areas. Tre and Pyrone began their search by retracing their steps with the girls.
"This is going to be an interesting evening," Tre sighed.
"Why do you say that?" Pyrone asked.
"Because I have a clairvoyant disposition telling me something," Tre stated. "But, it doesn't make sense."
"Oh, OK," Pyrone shrugged. "Whatever."
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"Sir," the thin voice of an ensign hailed Shawn over the walkie-talkie.
"Whot is it?" Shawn said shortly.
"There are three figures approaching the music store," the ensign whispered. "Possibly zebra, deen-go, and serpent."
"Uncanny," Shawn breathed. "I didn't expect them to come! I mean, I hoped that they would, but I thought it would be too late! Luck is shining down on us today!"
"What should we do, sir?" the ensign asked, urgency rising in his voice.
"Stand faust and wait for assistance!" Shawn replied. "We are taking no chaunces this time!"
"Should we begin moving, sir?" a lieutenant asked.
"Not yet," Shawn whispered. "We don't want to surprise them without the advontage!"
"Sir!" another ensign screamed into the walkie-talkie.
"Whot?" Shawn whispered harshly.
"We've engaged bear and dove at the escalator!" the ensign yelled over gunshots.
"Hold your position and wait for assistance!" Shawn yelled. "To the escalators!"
The three soldiers that followed Shawn streaked after him toward the escalators.
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-A few minutes before-
Tre and Pyrone had retraced their steps when walking with the girls, to the escalators. It was here that Tre remembered Wufei getting knocked down by Raye for calling her a 'weak onna' one times too many. So maybe there was that off chance that he had dropped it here.
"You think we'll find the wallet here?" Pyrone asked.
"Miss Cleo don' know, okay?" Tre mocked in a Caribbean accent.
"You do that so well," Pyrone laughed.
As Pyrone continued to laugh, a rustling of the bushes at the top of the escalators snapped Tre to attention. He shushed Pyrone, who responded with,
"Don't shush me, shushy!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Tre growled through gritted teeth. "Those bushes up there rustled."
"Yeah," Pyrone said seriously. "Like when I'm going to rustle Trista's bush!"
"Idiot!" Tre slapped Pyrone. "Now's not the time to fuck around! She ain't got a bush!"
"How do you know?" Pyrone asked.
The bushes rustled again, this time accompanied by an expletive. Tre and Pyrone looked at each other, then the bushes at their flanks, then the bushes at the top of the escalators. They looked at each other again, then dove behind the bushes to their flanks as machine guns were heard firing off their rounds. The thick clay of the large pots provided excellent cover for Tre and Pyrone, who were separated by at least fifteen feet of open walkway between the pots.
The continuous fire of the British machine guns had splatters of green spraying the men hidden behind the pots. Tre and Pyrone both had moist, green flecks of the leaves from the bush in their hair. Also, the amount of lead being pumped into the pot was beginning to crack the thick clay. Tre and Pyrone had to act.
"You got enough ammo?" Tre yelled over the loud echoes of the machine guns.
"Yeah," Pyrone yelled back, slamming a magazine into his 9mm Baretta.
"You sure your Baretta is gonna do any damage?" Tre yelled, cocking the slides on his Glocks.
"I hope it will," Pyrone muttered under his breath.
He peeked around the corner just enough to see where the enemy was. Then, he aimed and emptied his clip in less than fifteen seconds. Tre was just leaping across the open walkway toward Pyrone, firing alternately from both guns. He landed with two empty weapons. Pyrone was just pulling out another clip when the pot opposite his shattered and spilled its contents. The dark soil spread over the floor in a rough circular mound and was still being fired upon, throwing bits of soil flying.
"Shit!" Tre laughed. "I could've died!"
"Lucky son of a bitch!" Pyrone yelled.
"Well," Tre started, jamming both Glocks back into their holsters, "I'll have to use the ultimate fire power now."
"Which is?" Pyrone asked.
"Click, click, BOOM!" Tre yelled as he drew, pumped, and fired his shotgun.
The glass shattered where the barrier of the escalator was. Two soldiers fell from the height of ten feet on their heads, breaking their necks. Only one left.
"GO!" both shouted.
Tre ran out on the left side of the pot as Pyrone ran out on the right side, weapons blazing. The soldier was impacted by the bullets, his body thrown from one side to the other as the high-velocity ammo hit it on either side. The blood sprayed from the open holes on the back and front, spilling onto the clean floor. The last soldier flopped over, dead and bleeding profusely. Still, both victors ran to the dead soldiers and looted their weapons and ammo clips from their carcasses.
"Holy shit!" Tre shouted.
"Well, well, well!" Pyrone chuckled excitedly.
"MSCZRD-13s!" Tre said in awe. "These are major elephant killers!"
"Not to mention human killers," Pyrone wowed.
"Let's go help out the others," Tre said, running toward the music store.
"Wait! Wait for me!" Pyrone said, slipping on some blood.
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"Man, I'd sure love to play that drum kit again," Duo mused.
"And bring attention to ourselves by the security system?" Quatre sounded aghast.
"Geez, hold your shirt on, Quatre," Duo shot back.
"Quiet!" Heero barked.
All three boys listened closely to the sound of machine guns in the distance. Quatre got all the more worried, Duo's jaw dropped, and Heero listened for anything at all. The crackle of a radio was all that was needed to alert the pilots. An expletive was heard as Heero pulled Duo and Quatre behind a wall.
A volley of machine gun rounds pierced the silence as Heero drew his trusty sidearm. The Wing Zero pilot peeked around the corner and shot off several rounds before his gun jammed.
"DAMMIT!!" Heero shouted.
"HEERO!!" Tre yelled, sliding to their position. "I was hoping you guys would be OK!"
"Yeah, me too," Pyrone said, sliding into the wall, hard.
"What took you guys so long?" Duo yelled.
"Jungle fever," Tre yelped, ducking from a stray bullet. "We had to take care of a little greenery first. Anyway, here."
Tre passed Heero an MSCZRD-13 and handed out his Glocks to Duo and Quatre. Then, he tried to formulate a plan while the fire ceased. He thought that the best way to take care of these guys was to provide a diversion that causes the enemy to follow them while they pick them all off.
"Okay," Tre whispered. "Here's what we're going to do: Duo and Quatre will provide a diversion that will make the soldiers follow after them. Then, they'll lead them past our location so that the three of us can mow them down with these bitches."
"Great plan," Heero agreed.
"Good idea!" Quatre nodded.
"Yeah," Duo said sarcastically. "Except for one thing: I'm creating the diversion! That doesn't sit well with me!"
"Duo," Pyrone soothed. "We need a couple of guys small enough to to do this job right."
"Heero's the same size as me!" Duo half-screamed.
"Duo, you're the Great Destroyer, right?" Tre asked.
"Yeah, but-" Duo was cut off.
"Then you're the best damned person for this job," Tre said simply.
"Oh man," Duo whined. "Oh, fine! Come on, Q-man."
Duo and Quatre leaped behind the 'holey' trash can sitting next to the divider where everyone was hiding. They carefully peeked through the holes to locate their targets, which were standing right inside the music dealer store. Both nodded at each other and took careful aim at one of them. Then, they both emptied their clips inbto the same soldier. All the others just looked upon the crumpled, 'swiss-cheesed' form of their comrade. That's when Duo and Quatre jumped up and ran away. The rest of the Brits followed after them, reloading.
"NOW!" Tre cued.
He, Pyrone and Heero all mowed the three passing British soldiers down with the guns they had possessed. Blood sprayed all over the opposite storefront as the windows cracked and crashed from too many bullet impacts. The soldiers were all dying, their faces reflecting that of an excruciating pain. Each one flopped over, either face first or falling on their backside and arching their backs. Blood flooded the floor from the many open wounds of the dead bodies.
"That was easy," Tre grinned.
"Not to mention," Pyrone surveyed the scene, "messy."
"Well, we did it," Quatre's voice cracked.
"Yep!" Duo agreed. "We sure did!"
He gave Quatre a pat on the back and the latter immediately vomited. Duo's face contorted into a disgusted expression as the smaller boy up-chucked the greenish-yellow juices from his stomach. Quatre kneeled over his lost meal, coughing harshly. Tre walked over to him and rubbed his back.
"It's all right, Quatre," Tre soothed. "It's over, you didn't get shot."
"Yeah," Quatre voiced shakily. "But, I could've been!"
"What about all the times you faced OZ?" Tre asked. "You didn't throw-up then."
"That's different," Quater sniffed, wiping his mouth. "It wasn't point blank range."
"Look, the only way we're going to get anything done is to hook up with Trowa and Wufei and warn them of the impending danger," Heero said.
"Really?" Pyrone chuckled sarcastically.
"Yes," Heero glowered. "I suggest that we armor ourselves so we don't get hurt."
"You mean transform?" Duo querried.
"Yes," Heero replied, producing his 'Palm Pilot'. "Zero!"
The green lines traced his body in the design of his armor, which then began to envelope itself around Heero's body. Soon, it was over and a mini Zero looked at them.
"Well?" the suit urged.
"Hold your horses, Heero," Pyrone said, dropping the gun.
He too, along with Tre, Duo, and Quatre, all produced their transformation tools and recited their incantations. The lines snaked their way around the pilots as the armor began to form up their bodies. They all stared at each other, then they picked up the guns and fired their rockets, flying toward the food court.
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"I know it has to be around here somewhere!" Wufei growled.
"Take it easy, Wufei," Trowa ordered. "You got to keep a cool head."
"How can I keep a cool head when all my money is practically missing?" Wufei yelled.
"Start breathing," Trowa said.
The two had looked under all the tables and at every counter in the food court, but to no avail. What if the janitor had stolen it already? What if some average person saw it and said, "Oh, what a lovely wallet!" and had taken it home? What if-
"WOULD YOU KNOCK IT OFF?" Wufei screamed at me.
"Hey, I'm the author, here," I boasted.
"Well, shut up!" Wufei shouted. "I can't hear myself think!"
"Well, tough!" I snuffed.
Anyway, Wufei and Trowa were too far across the mall to hear the gunshots from the previous battles but they had some weird sense from their guts telling them to be cautious.
Little did they know that a sniper was waiting on the second story of a coffee shop and aiming straight for Trowa. The tall boy was standing upright, looking this way and that for any sign of Wufei's wallet. He felt like had kicked something and bent down to look at it. It was Wufei's wallet!
"Voila! Wufei, I found it!" Trowa announced.
Then Trowa bent down to pick it up at the exact same moment that the sniper had fired. The bullet whizzed narrowly over Trowa's back, but the boy knew something had gone on. A small smoking hole was not three feet from his position. He dove for the nearest table and yelled for Wufei to get down, too.
The sniper had given up on covert and reverted to 'trigger happy infantryman.' He put the rifle down and pulled out the MSCZRD-13. He loaded a fresh clip into the weapon and opened relentless fire. The hyper-paced machine gun emptied the 700-round clip in almost no time flat: 35 seconds. During that time, Trowa and Wufei were stuck behind their tables; shields that didn't protect very well against their enemy. The round metal tops were impressed by the supersonic bullets, so badly that the impressions were three inches deep or three inches long from the G-boys point of view. Luckily, the bullets did not penetrate.
After the firefight was halted for reloading, Wufei and Trowa both popped up from their hiding places and emptied clip after clip from their pistols. They didn't hit their target, who by the way ducked out of the way, delaying his reloading. However, they did manage to 'decorate' the balcony area of the coffee house. Then, from out of nowhere the sound of rocket motors reached the ears of the three people in the vicinity of each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The five miniature suits flew in a broad arrowhead formation down the many halls of the mall to get to the food court. Why there? Because that's where Wufei last remembered having his wallet. How else would the guy pay for his food?
As the five flew at breakneck speed through the mall, they formed a battle tactical plan...er, sort of.
"Hey Backlash," DreadScythe called over.
"What?" he replied.
"You want to defend our guys or do you want to take out the sniper?"
"Well, both have a high risk involved with it," Backlash pondered. "So I'm fucked either way!"
"I guess so," Deathscythe laughed.
"Yeah, I'll give you guess so," Backlash veered into Deathscythe.
"Hey!" Deathscythe shouted. "Stop that!"
"Shut up," Zero ordered. "I sense gunshot signatures on my soundwave scope."
"Uh oh," DreadScythe mocked, pulling out its gun. "There's gonna be bloodshed!"
"Can't we just knock him unconscious?" Sandrock pleaded.
"No," was the unanimous reply.
The five suits stopped short of the food court and hovered above the area, surveying the scene. They spotted their friends behind tables as the Brit fired upon them relentlessly. They seemed to be in serious distress.
"Backlash, go around the other side and fly up through the bottom floor of the coffee shop and sneak up behind the guy on the balcony," Dreadscythe pointed.
"Why?" Backlash querried.
"I'll get you a damn ice cream if you do," DreadScythe sighed.
"Oh goody," Backlash sarcastically squealed.
The black suit flew off back the way that they had come and circled around to the front of the coffee shop and landed inside. There, he drew his machine guns and carefully walked up the stairs. Slowly, step by step, he drew nearer and nearer to the soldiers position. The rachety sound of the MSCZRD was heard as the soldier apparently fired at the now present mini-Gundams fliting around the food court. Backlash now placed his left foot on the second floor landing, then his right foot.
The soldier had emptied yet another clip and withdrew to reload. Backlash slowly made his way behind the guy and placed both barrels near the guys neck. At the last minute, the guy sneezed as Backlash fired, missing. The soldier turned around, horrified, as Backlash pistol-whipped him across the face and head several times, then shot the unconscious soldier. The body whipped to and fro, spasms rocked the dying muscles and blood came forth from every major bullet wound. The slow exhale told Backlash that the guy was dead.
"All clear!" he called out, igniting his rockets and taking flight.
"You guys okay?" DreadScythe asked Trowa and Wufei.
"Yeah," Wufei groaned as he rose from the floor.
"It's a good thing that you guys came," Trowa said.
"Yeah, well, what would we do without ya, Trowa buddy?" Deathscythe voiced.
"Funny," Sandrock wondered.
"What?" Backlash querried.
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong," Sandrock started, "but you and Tre killed three soldiers, then we just finished killing another three, plus this one sniper."
"Yeah, so?" DreadScythe replied.
"Well, if there were three or four more soldiers, that would mean we had dealt with a whole squadron!" Sandrock concluded.
"Of course!" DreadScythe smacked his head. "The Brits must have broken through the same time barrier we did! Why else would there be British soldiers here in a twentith-century mall trying to kill the lot of us?"
"What a Hell of a way to put two-and-two together," Backlash chuckled.
"Guys," Deathscythe called. "If there, was a squadron here, then that means-"
"Shawn was the leader," DreadScythe pointed out. "Then, we have four overall missing enemies within the confines of this battleground."
"Then we gotta find them!" Zero voiced. "Wufei, Trowa, transform now!"
"Right!" the two chorused.
Both produced their 'Palm Pilot' and raised them above their heads. Then, in tandem, they shouted their respective incantations.
"Zero-three!" Trowa shouted.
"Zero-five!" Wufei shouted.
The familiar transformation sequence unfolded before the eyes of their friends; the transformation soon ended and two more suits joined the ranks to complete the team of mini-Gundams. They all walked in a sort of jagged arrowhead formation without realizing it and drew their beam weapons, replacing their firearms to their holsters. Backlash and Deathscythe drew their scythes; one triple-bladed scythe for Backlash and two twin-bladed scythes for Deathscythe.Heavyarms ignited its armblades, which if they were another foot long, they would drag along the floor. Sandrock held its sickles at the ready, Altron ignited its katanas and the Zero brandished its beam saber. DreadScythe held its sword and scythe ready for combat, taking the lead of the group next to Zero.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dear God," Shawn choked at the sight of his men.
The first two ensigns that fell on their necks were lying like limp dolls on the bottom floor, their necks purple and stuck at an odd angle. Their eyes still open and showing the surprise and fear. The unlucky lieutenant who accompanied the two ensigns had more holes in him than Swiss cheese, and was soaking in his own pool of lifeblood. The two lieutenants and commander that accompanied Shawn weren't as shaken as their commanding officer, but they were surprised to see that their leader was disturbed by the deaths of his own men.
"Sir," the commander spoke.
"Don't..." Shawn voiced shakily.
"Sir, with all due respect, are you really that shaken about the deaths of three men?" the commander asked. "If so, then we really feel that you shouldn't be leading a squadron against seven teenage boys!"
"Don't you challenge me, you insolent mother-" Shawn was cut off by a new voice.
"Fucker?" the voice finished.
"Who's there?" a lieutenant asked, fear present in every syllable.
"The Phantom," the voice replied.
"WHAT!?!" Shawn squeaked.
"You heard me," the voice growled.
From out of nowhere, a lone silhouette stood out against the shadows of the partially darkened mall. It seemed to have dreadlocks and was built rather 'boxy'. Then, it raised its head and caused the four men to scream out loud in terror. The eyes were glowing a bright green, contrasting the dark form of the silhouette. Then, the figure brought something out from behind it that looked like a sword, then it revealed a scythe with a glowing black blade. The commander was scared, shaking very violently of intense fear. Alas, he just couldn't handle it anymore. A yellow stain started at the crotch and ran down his left leg, creating a small puddle of piss at his boot heel. The figure walked slowly out of the darkness, approaching the four huddled soldiers. It looked down at the commander's boot heel, and laughed!
"So," it chuckled. "The big, bad commander pisses himself scared like a little baby."
The commander, fear eating away at his consciousness, eyes like dinner plates, just pulled the trigger on his weapon. The bullets went straight to the figure's abdomen, but it still remained rooted to its spot...not even flinching in pain! Soon, the repetitive clicks told the figure before the soldiers that the commander's weapon was out of ammo. So it grabbed the empty weapon by the muzzle, and twisted it into a knot. This was just too much for the commander, so before he fainted, the seat of his white pants turned a soiled brown.
The lieutenants and Shawn were the only ones left against this suppossed monster. But then six more appeared and flanked the first. Shawn's lip quivered, his pale green eyes wide with fear. The lieutenant to his left had just vomited, the sickly green-brown sludge covered the space in between his boots.
"W-w-w-w," Shawn tried to talk, but couldn't.
"What are we?" the lead monster asked.
Shawn could only nod in response, for his throat had contracted too much for him to talk.
"Well," the tallest one started, "you could say we're just a figament of your imagination; we don't even exist."
"Yeah," the twin scythe toter jumped in. "We are just smaller forms of your worst fears: the Gundams!"
"We were afraid that we wouldn't have caught up with you to have a little conversation," the blue one said. "You see, every person has an inner child and Gundams, the so-called soulless machines, have an inner spirit all their own and we are them."
At this point, the same lieutenant tried to make a run for it. He tried to barrel past the suits, but was held back by the tallest one with the braids.
"Now, now, now," 'Braids' taunted. "Can't let you get away without proving our point, can we?"
'Braids' lifted the lieutenant off the ground by the nape of his neck with ease. The lieutenant gave whimper and started to cry out loud for help, for his mother, and for God to save him from the demon that has him in its clutches. At this last reamrk, all seven suits gave an evil cackle.
"You think we're demons?" 'Braids' retorted.
"We just want to rid the world of the vile plans of your country," 'Dreads' spoke. "And the colonies for that matter, as well."
"H-how d-d-did y-y-y-you g-g-g-g-get h-here?" Shawn managed to stutter.
"We stowed away on your ship," 'Dragon Head' informed.
"How? We do security checks on every part of the ship," the second lieutenant said.
"That's right," the captured lieutenant said.
"Shut your mouth!" 'Braids' barked.
After another whimper from the captured lieutenant, and he shut his mouth. Shawn still wanted to know more from the dreaded one.
"Oy, Dread!" Shawn called.
"What?" 'Dreads' snarled.
"You called yourself the Phantom, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, I know only one person by that alias and he's a pilot of a Gundam that you are suppossedly a spirit of, do you know him?"
"You must mean Tre Young, no?" 'Dreads' replied.
"Actually, yes."
"Yes, he is the pilot of DreadScythe, that's me."
'Oh, so that's what his Gundam is called, eh?' Shawn thought.
'Shit, I shouldn't have said that,' Tre thought.
"Well, DreadScythe," Shawn drawled. "I must commend you and your friends on scaring me but I believe my fears have waned by now."
"Not so," DreadScythe retorted. "Backlash!"
The suit with braids put its free hand over the mouth of the lieutenant in its possession and quickly snapped his neck, killing him and ripping the flesh of the back of his neck off in the process, which caused the body to crumple to the floor.
"Oops," Backlash growled. "I meant to do that!"
The seven of them all cackled again, glowering at the two remaining soldiers. They both turned tail and ran for their lives.
"Let's go get 'em," DreadScythe told his group calmly.
They took flight after the two British officers, catching up to them after about ten seconds. DreadScythe took a swing with its scythe at Shawn's leg, just missing and leaving a gash running across his calf. Shawn roared out in pain and fell to the ground. The lieutenant ran back to his commanding officer only to be caught by the throat and raised above the ground by the mainly silver suit. The choking lieutenant looked at the glaring green eyes of the suit as he tried his hardest to release the grip on his throat. Try as he might, the grip only got tighter and the lieutenant was losing the ability to breathe.
"Crush his windpipe, Zero," the DreadScythe ordered its companion in a cold tone.
"DreadScythe, no!" a smaller suit pleaded.
"Why not, Sandrock?" the taller suit interrogated.
"Because we are killing human beings in cold blood; we are MURDERING THEM!!" Sandrock yelled. "This isn't the ethical approach to dealing with the problem at hand! Sure, killing the first two was fun enough to make our point, but we shouldn't have to brutally punish these two as well."
"Hell, Sandrock," Backlash intervened. "They're British soldiers, they deserve it!"
"No," DreadScythe countered. "Sandrock's right. We are being way too heartless when we should be more understanding and compassionate. Shawn, my Gundams pilot won't be happy to know that you were here, that he didn't have the opportunity to kill you for what you did to his sister."
"How do you know what I did to her?" Shawn questioned, voice cracking.
"I am the inner spirit of the DreadScythe," DreadScythe answered. "Therefore, I know all about my pilot and his modus operandi; if you know Latin, you'll know what I mean."
"W-w-w-what?"
"Get out of here," Dreadscythe reluctantly urged. "Go, before I change my mind."
Shawn looked at DreadScythe like it had grown an extra head or something, but ran to the roof exit.
"You too," DreadScythe told the lieutenant.
Zero let the soldier go and as soon as the soldier made contact with the ground, he slipped, scrambling to get away. He soon regained his footing under the eyes of the seven suits. He looked back several times as he ran away, making sure they didn't follow him.
"Why'd you let them go?" Deathscythe screamed.
"Because I wanted to let them leave with something to think about," DreadScythe replied. "Besides, it isn't my revenge. It's my sister's right to do whatever she chooses to do with him because he's fucked her over...twice in fact, leaving her with the short end of the stick."
"Twice?" Altron checked.
"Twice," DreadScythe verified. "He fucked her without protection; that resulted in the birth of Missy, for one. Second, he claims he isn't the father, leaving the child in her care, for her to worry about. If my dad hadn't been the soft-hearted man he is, then she would be on the streets somewhere with that little girl to look out for in addition to herself.
"So, that's why she deserves this revenge more than I need mine," DreadScythe finished.
"Why would you need revenge?" Heavyarms pondered.
"Because, Shawn and I both did something most regretable to each other in high school after Lory was killed," DreadScythe remembered. "He had made some crack about the British are going to rape and pillage every American girl when they took over all the world and colonies. It was only three weeks after Lory was killed and I had overheard it. So, I snapped and beat him up for it. I went everywhere I knew would hurt the most: the face, nose, instep, ribs, nuts, temples, and the stomach. So ever since then, he and I have been at each other's throats and rivaling one another."
"Hmm," Zero commented. "Sounds like you've had a rough life."
"Nothing compared to you," DreadScythe huffed.
"So," Backlash voiced, de-transforming. "What now?"
"I guess we go," DreadScythe sighed, following Pyrone's action.
All the suits then de-transformed, revealing the five Gundam pilots hidden underneath. The two elder pilots looked at their younger companions, then walked out the mall with them. As they passed through the broken window in the door, Tre turned around and took a last glance at the destruction the mall endured during the fiasco that ensued there.
"You think we should clean up our mess before we have some more fun?" Tre said sardonically.
"No," Pyrone said.
"I'm for that," Tre added, then exited through the door.
"HOW COULD YOU JUST LOOSE THEM SO EASILY?" the kings voice boomed over the loudspeakers in the mobile suit cruiser where Shawn was currently stationed after pursuing the Gundam shuttle. King Charles' purple face was taking up the entire screen on the cruisers flight deck. Shawn, still dressed in his spacesuit, tried to retell the events to his king.
"Your majesty, you must understand-" Shawn attemted to explain.
"ENOUGH! I'LL NOT LISTEN TO YOUR EXCUSES ANY LONGER!" the king bellowed. "You have acted out of British military regulations to supress a family feud you've set against this American pilot and his bloody friends. Honestly, if I weren't going to be your father-in-law, I'd-"
"JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONE, BLOODY MINUTE YOU POMPOUS PRICK!" Shawn yelled back.
The gasps and surprised reactions of all the crew members aboard the cruiser suddenly caused the flight deck to be very quiet. Shawn looked to and fro at all his subordinates.
"What are you awl lukin' at?" Shawn snapped. (AN: Those aren't spelling errors, that's how I hear him talking)
"How dare you put yourself before your king, you insolent little bastard," the king hissed. "You are demoted to ensign for that outburst!"
"No, your majesty, surely-" Shawn fumbled, but to no avail.
"Report home at once! Out!" the king said.
The screen went blank, then Shawn slammed his fists on the console in front of him, cursing out loud every dirty word under the sun. Finally, after a jab that ultimately fried the circuits, he ended his tirade and just returned to his quarters.
Once there, he pulled a picture of his fiancee out and lay on his bunk. Studying her seductive curves, he barely noticed the summon from the flight deck.
"Ensign Chamberlin," the captain spoke.
"What?" Shawn snarled, angry that he was addressed as such a low rank.
"We have a report on the spot where the shuttle entered the Earth's atmosphere."
"AND?"
"Well, this is interesting, but it seems that there was a 'tear' in the very fabric of time that allowed them to go through to another time and possibly a new dimension."
"Hmm," Shawn pondered this. "Excellent! Give my regards to the good doctor."
"Affirmative, over and out."
The captain disappeared from the screen by Shawn's bunk. Shawn was much too tired to be dealing with this news just now. It would be curfew soon and the soldiers all had to report to their quarters at that time. He really didn't feel like sleeping, though, his brain was going through a constant redux of what had taken place.
-Flashback, Shawn's P.O.V.-
Christ, if I'm not careful, I could wind up dead! The oncoming spray of bullets from that shuttle is sure to catch my suit if I make even one wrong move. Several of my escorts have already been taken out, most of them the manned suits...I knew that evasive maneuver seminar was bullshit, anyway. Several mobile dolls have also been damaged to a serious point, so they won't do much. Suddenly, the spray ceases, praise God! Now's the time to act, so I increase my suit's velocity to attack speed.
However, by doing so, I have just placed myself into immediate danger. A wide, aqua beam was fired from the shuttle...I wonder how Tre managed to retro-fit his shuttle with such advanced weaponry! Or is it...no...it couldn't be!
Earlier, as I was being released from the suit hangar on the cruiser, I saw a mobile suit jump from that smaller shuttle to the one we are currently pursuing. I had my doubts at first, but I think it might be a Gundam. And if my research assistant is correct, that shuttle was carrying the Reigns family. Sources also told me that Pyrone Reigns has been selected as a Gundam pilot of the most advanced technology seen next to the Wing Zero. However, I also heard that Tre Young was a Gundam pilot, and even his Gundam is more advanced than the Wing Zero could ever hope to be.
Whatever is firing at me now, I don't want to get myself caught in the beam. I groan; the G forces are intense! They squeeze my body like a tube of toothpaste. I have to catch up to that shuttle. But then, a golden beam is fired.
"EVASIVE MANEUVERS!" I yell out to the remains of my battalion.
The moment I yell out, I have to strain against the opposing pressure of my controls to dodge the blast. Incredible! I just saw it eat through a mobile doll's shield and vaporize it. How in the world can this be? What sort of technology are these mad scientists playing with?
As I ponder this question, a scarlet beam races to my position. As I attempt to dodge this blast, I move too late and feel the awesome power of this beam's destructivity. My suit is getting very warm and is shaking uncontrollably. It's too hot! I'm suffocating on the very essence of life: heated oxygen. I see red all around me, the color floods my cockpit to the point of such intensity, that it seems impossible to see. Soon, the color fades and a horrible afterimage is produced. I see the faint green tint against a screen that reflects the outside environment of space. The cockpit seems to cool down a bit and I can check my damage.
Damn! I lost an arm in the blast; my suit's usefulness has dropped dramatically. Now I have no choice but run these foolish idiots into the atmosphere at a speed higher than is possibly safe. But...I see another motion on the top of the shuttle and...no! It's that same, bloody Gundam I have confronted in over five different situations, including this one. Now I have two to deal with? Fine! Bring it on!
I accelerate even more, to the highest speed obtainable in this suit. As I do, another spray of bullets is fired at me. I barely have time to look outside to see where the next bullet might be, so I just act without thinking. Looks as though my luck hasn't run out entirely, because I'm dodging all of them so far. Finally, the barrage ends and I can fly straight again. Suddenly, a wide beam gets to me before I can dodge it and again, I feel the intense heat and the violent vibration associated with it, only this time my cockpit is flooded with the golden light instead of the red. Soon, the beam dissipates and the cockpit cools down, then I come to find I have lost the other arm on my mobile suit. Then, I realize that if I continue to chase after them, I'll disintegrate in the heat of reentry. So I slam on the reverse thrusters and watch them speed away toward the atmosphere...hoping that they'll skip right off the atmosphere and die.
-End Flashback-
It seemed so surreal to Shawn that he was nearly deafeated and had lost track of a huge spacecraft containing such cargo that could easily overrun the British Mobile Suit Division. Shawn suddenly felt very guilty, like he had signed every British officer's death warrant. Sighing, he rose from his bunk and returned to the flight deck. It seems the captain was going to enter the same point that the pursued shuttle did in the atmosphere to see where it took them.
"I'm going against my better judgement here, Shawn," the captain said.
"I understand," Shawn said. "If an inquiry arises, I'll tell them it was my idea."
"But your in enough shit already!" the captain blurted.
"Harry, I know," Shawn soothed. "But you have a wife and four great kids to support. You haven't had one infraction on your record so you don't need to have one on there. Trust me, letting me take the fall would be a much better option."
"Right then," Capt. Harry said.
The captain accelerated the large craft to enter the atmosphere. As it penetrated the outermost layer of the exosphere, accompanied by the loud boom, a flash of white surrounded the craft and soon the red glow enveloped it. Violent vibrations were shaking the ship as it rammed into the air molecules, which became more and more dense as it passes through each layer of the atmosphere in descending order. Finally, it reached an altitude achieved only by the U-2.
"Navigation reports are in," a technician shouted.
"We are currently flying above Tokyo, Japan," the captain said.
"Tokyo, Japan, huh?" Shawn mused.
"The sensors are taking a reading of the city, now," the same technician announced.
"And what have we today?" Shawn asked.
"Sir, I'm not sure these are correct."
"What do they say, private?"
"They indicate the population is exact to that of the A.D. 1998 census calculations."
"Incredible!" Shawn breathed. "We've gone back over many centuries!"
"We can deploy suits immediately, if you would like, sir!" an ensign said.
"No, not another suit battle!" Shawn said. "Let's send a squadron down to hunt for them and we might get lucky. The last thing we want at the moment is to bring attention to ourselves."
"Sir!" the ensign saluted and left.
"What do you suppose you're going to do on Earth?" Capt. Harry asked.
"Probably stake out at a public place and hope they come," Shawn replied.
"Good plan," Harry said.
"Just be ready to release the troop pod, okay?"
"Sir!"
Shawn quickly went to his quarters to change out of his spacesuit. Floating out of his quarters in his red uniform, Shawn raced to the pod and took his seat. The restraint came over his head and shoulders and settled on the latter, also going across his abdomen. The hatch slid shut, then Shawn began his briefing.
"Right, then! Listen up, men!" he shouted. "We are looking for these seven pilots! Our mission is to seek-and-destroy, do not leave one living, understood?"
The soldiers all shouted their reply of, "Yes sir!" On several screens scattered about the cabin, the faces of seven young men flashed into view. As Shawn said each name, that picture stood out in the foreground.
"First is Heero Yuy, our codename for him on this mission is zebra. Although his appearence suggests a weak teenager, he is a lethal force who has killed an OZ officer not too long ago in his L1 colony. Exercise extreme caution.
"Next is Duo Maxwell, codename is dingo. His main characteristic is his meter-long braid, which allows him to stand out in crowds, so he will be an easy target.
"Trowa Barton, codename heron. Like zebra, heron is quick and lethal, however, heron apparently has more stealth than does zebra, according to our (AN: false) records. Still, exercise extreme caution around both.
"Quatre Winner, codename serpent. This boy is cunning and very brilliant in battlefield tactics. With surprising silence, he is able to subdue a soldier in no time at all. Again, exercise caution.
"Wufei Chang, codename alligator. The only one of the group whom has mastered the martial arts of the Chinese in the highest degree of his age. Do not underestimate his force for even a second, gentlemen.
"Tre Young, codename dove. One of the most dangerous and prominent of the group, dove here can easily kill all of us between close-range and long-range, so please observe the highest degree of caution and alertness you can muster with this one.
"Finally, Pyrone Reigns, codename bear. The second of the most dangerous and prominent, he is also capable of killing us all at close-range and long-range if need be. Please gentlemen, do take care.
"You will be equipped with MSCZRD-13s (AN: super destructive machine guns) and ten ammo clips; that's 7,000 extra rounds, boys. I expect you all to use it wisely and not waste it."
A green light flashed in the cabin and the restraints undid themselves. The men unloaded the pod on the roof of the mall, pointing their MSCZRD-13s every which way, sweeping their view for intruders who might botch the mission. Little did they know what was in store for them.
The pod lifted away from the roof as the team entered the roof door and got inside the mall. They split into two groups, one for each floor, then scattered around the mall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Jesus Christ!" Tre yelled out loud to his friend. "What the fuck were you thinking Pyrone?"
"The same thing I always think when I'm pissed off!" Pyrone roared.
"YOU NEED TO CONTROL YOUR FUCKING TEMPER!!" Tre bellowed.
"YOU CAN SUCK MY BIG, FAT COCK!!" Pyrone barked back.
"Please, stop!" Quatre intervened. "We're suppossed to be a team, right?"
"How can we be a team when one of us decide's to lose his temper because he thought we won a whole fucking war when we didn't?" Tre sneered.
"Don't you start with me, Phantom!" Pyrone shouted.
The rest of the pilots didn't know what that meant, but Pyrone had obviously said something that cut deep into Tre. Tre had paused, finger pointed at Pyrone, with a look of hurt and disgust on his face. Then, his face changed into a sad scowl as he lowered his arm. Tears welled up in Tre's eyes as he said,
"How could you?"
"Tre, I'm sorry, that was low, dude," Pyrone said, very remorseful.
"HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU?" Tre bawled, tears streaking down his face.
"Tre, I know that was low, I'm sorry-" Pyrone was cut off.
Tre, full of rage, gave an almighty roar and Pyrone was caught off guard by a right-cross thrown right in his face by Tre. Pyrone staggered backwards, when Tre pounced on him. Like a roaring animal, Tre was using Pyrone like a carcass to tear into. It took almost a minute for the five other pilots to wrench Tre off of Pyrone. Even still, Tre was still teary-eyed and angry. Pyrone was hurt, no doubt, by the harsh coughs he heaved and his inability to stand on two feet. Tre had cracked a rib, but only to a hairline fracture.
"You asshole!" Tre yelled.
"I deserved that," Pyrone wheezed, then coughed.
"Why the fuck did you have to bring her up again?" Tre screamed. "Why?"
"It was a low-blow tactic that I shouldn't have used, and I'm so sorry," Pyrone said.
"I know this may not be a good time to be asking this," Trowa started, "but who are we talking about when we say 'her'?"
"You want me to tell them?" Pyrone said.
"No," Tre sniffed. "I'll tell them. Heero, you already know most of this, so it isn't any surprise to you."
"Yeah," Heero responded, coldly.
"OK, here goes," Tre sighed. "In the year After Colony one-nine-four, I had taken my Gundam out for a test flight that day, thinking I could impress my girlfriend when I
would take her home that day and we would fuck. But, as I went to go get it, three Leos invaded my colony and I got into a fight with them. As I destroyed the last one, it shot off a round from its rifle as the upper torso contacted the ground, and...she got hit by that round."
Duo gasped and Quatre simply said, "That's sad."
"That is why Tre is known as the Phantom of A.C. 194," Pyrone said. "Only we know that now; nobody else knows him by that name."
"And that's why I turned out more heartless than relaxed," Tre sniffed.
"Also why you're more of a soldier than a pilot," Trowa observed.
"Yes," Tre nodded.
"Come here, bro," Pyrone said, opening his arms.
Tre accepted, embracing Pyrone like a brother. The younger man just let go, sobbing like an abandoned child in a dark alley. Tre just let all the hurt, confusion, and anger out when he was crying. Pyrone patted his frined's head, muttering comforting words into his ear. After about ten minutes, Tre lifted himself off Pyrone and dried his eyes, giving a huge sniff to draw back the loose snot. Pyrone took a look at his shoulder, then made a funny face.
"Ewwwww," Pyrone mocked a child. "Youse gots boogers on me arm!"
Tre laughed, in spite of what he did. The other pilots were glad to see Tre in order, now that he and Pyrone were cool again.
Heero even dared to crack a smile; it seems that his time around his friends was thawing the cold shell around his heart, not to mention a certain someone. Relena may have been in love with Heero, but he just felt empty when he was with her. Serena seemed to be the perfect girl for him. With time, she could dissolve his cold soldier mentality with her warm exuberance. It seemed like all was well again, but-
"AH SHIT!" Wufei yelled.
"What?" Duo asked. "What is it, Wu-man?"
"I left my wallet back at the mall!" Wufei exclaimed.
"That sucks," Pyrone muttered.
"We have to go get it," Wufei said.
"How? The mall is closed, the security system is on-" Duo was cut off.
"To keep out any suspicious characters," Tre uttered.
"You want to break into the mall to get Wu-man's wallet?" Duo asked, panic-striken.
"Sure," Tre said, standing. "I could use some excitement."
"You're nuts!" Duo screamed.
"Maybe," Pyrone said. "But losing your wallet is no laughing matter."
"All right, let's go back!" Tre said, transforming into Sailor Universe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-At the mall-
"Whoa!" Duo commented. "This place is deserted!"
The entire parking lot was, for the most part, empty. A few cars remained, for they were either: 1) broken down, or 2)they weren't towed away yet. The orange glow of the parking lot lights spread over the bare spaces like a blanket.
What struck the boys as odd was the fact that their were lights on in the mall. Now, could that be the janitor? They didn't think so.
"What's up with the lights on inside?" Sailor Universe asked.
"Maybe somebody fell asleep in the mall and found the power switches?" Duo offered.
"Not likely," Quatre replied.
"Whatever it is, it can't be good," Trowa pondered. "I have a gut feeling about this."
"No, that's the frog legs you had tonight," Pyrone laughed.
"Let's check it out, guys," Heero said.
"Yeah! I don't want to be the person that stole my wallet," Wufei growled. "I'll bet
he's still in there, too."
The seven approached the building's portico, when Pyrone suddenly yelled out in pain.
"What's the matter?" Sailor Universe asked.
"That's the same bench where I made out tonight!" Pyrone mocked in surprise.
"Oh dear God," Universe chuckled. "Can we please just get in the mall?"
"Sure thing, Sailor Scout," Pyrone said.
Sailor Universe de-transformed into Tre Young, but wearing the 'black' outfit (trench coat, jeans, long-sleeve, etc.) instead of the one Tre wore earlier.
Tre took some electronic device out of his pocket and placed it near to where the securty sensor for the door was. He flipped a switch on the gadget, stepped back, leaned on his right foot, then smashed the glass with a swift left-foot kick. No alarms went off and the pilots had a nice hole to walk through.
"Gentlemen, if you'll please," Tre bowed them in.
After all six of the others went in, Tre took the device off the door frame and walked in.
Although the lights were on, very few were actually on. It almost seemed as if the place were being set up for a covert operation. But, the whole place seemed just fine to the G-boys.
"Let's split up," Tre suggested. "We'll cover more ground that way."
"Right!" they chorused.
"Trowa and Wufei will take the last place Wufei remembers having his wallet," Tre ordered. "Heero and Quatre, take the music store where we were earlier. Duo, you go
with Heero and Quatre. Pyrone and I will take the bottom floor."
"OK," Duo grinned.
"Great," Pyrone groaned, fake. "I'm stuck with you, AGAIN!"
"Shut up!" Tre shot back. "Get going now!"
The team split into their assigned groups and headed to their designated search areas. Tre and Pyrone began their search by retracing their steps with the girls.
"This is going to be an interesting evening," Tre sighed.
"Why do you say that?" Pyrone asked.
"Because I have a clairvoyant disposition telling me something," Tre stated. "But, it doesn't make sense."
"Oh, OK," Pyrone shrugged. "Whatever."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sir," the thin voice of an ensign hailed Shawn over the walkie-talkie.
"Whot is it?" Shawn said shortly.
"There are three figures approaching the music store," the ensign whispered. "Possibly zebra, deen-go, and serpent."
"Uncanny," Shawn breathed. "I didn't expect them to come! I mean, I hoped that they would, but I thought it would be too late! Luck is shining down on us today!"
"What should we do, sir?" the ensign asked, urgency rising in his voice.
"Stand faust and wait for assistance!" Shawn replied. "We are taking no chaunces this time!"
"Should we begin moving, sir?" a lieutenant asked.
"Not yet," Shawn whispered. "We don't want to surprise them without the advontage!"
"Sir!" another ensign screamed into the walkie-talkie.
"Whot?" Shawn whispered harshly.
"We've engaged bear and dove at the escalator!" the ensign yelled over gunshots.
"Hold your position and wait for assistance!" Shawn yelled. "To the escalators!"
The three soldiers that followed Shawn streaked after him toward the escalators.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-A few minutes before-
Tre and Pyrone had retraced their steps when walking with the girls, to the escalators. It was here that Tre remembered Wufei getting knocked down by Raye for calling her a 'weak onna' one times too many. So maybe there was that off chance that he had dropped it here.
"You think we'll find the wallet here?" Pyrone asked.
"Miss Cleo don' know, okay?" Tre mocked in a Caribbean accent.
"You do that so well," Pyrone laughed.
As Pyrone continued to laugh, a rustling of the bushes at the top of the escalators snapped Tre to attention. He shushed Pyrone, who responded with,
"Don't shush me, shushy!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Tre growled through gritted teeth. "Those bushes up there rustled."
"Yeah," Pyrone said seriously. "Like when I'm going to rustle Trista's bush!"
"Idiot!" Tre slapped Pyrone. "Now's not the time to fuck around! She ain't got a bush!"
"How do you know?" Pyrone asked.
The bushes rustled again, this time accompanied by an expletive. Tre and Pyrone looked at each other, then the bushes at their flanks, then the bushes at the top of the escalators. They looked at each other again, then dove behind the bushes to their flanks as machine guns were heard firing off their rounds. The thick clay of the large pots provided excellent cover for Tre and Pyrone, who were separated by at least fifteen feet of open walkway between the pots.
The continuous fire of the British machine guns had splatters of green spraying the men hidden behind the pots. Tre and Pyrone both had moist, green flecks of the leaves from the bush in their hair. Also, the amount of lead being pumped into the pot was beginning to crack the thick clay. Tre and Pyrone had to act.
"You got enough ammo?" Tre yelled over the loud echoes of the machine guns.
"Yeah," Pyrone yelled back, slamming a magazine into his 9mm Baretta.
"You sure your Baretta is gonna do any damage?" Tre yelled, cocking the slides on his Glocks.
"I hope it will," Pyrone muttered under his breath.
He peeked around the corner just enough to see where the enemy was. Then, he aimed and emptied his clip in less than fifteen seconds. Tre was just leaping across the open walkway toward Pyrone, firing alternately from both guns. He landed with two empty weapons. Pyrone was just pulling out another clip when the pot opposite his shattered and spilled its contents. The dark soil spread over the floor in a rough circular mound and was still being fired upon, throwing bits of soil flying.
"Shit!" Tre laughed. "I could've died!"
"Lucky son of a bitch!" Pyrone yelled.
"Well," Tre started, jamming both Glocks back into their holsters, "I'll have to use the ultimate fire power now."
"Which is?" Pyrone asked.
"Click, click, BOOM!" Tre yelled as he drew, pumped, and fired his shotgun.
The glass shattered where the barrier of the escalator was. Two soldiers fell from the height of ten feet on their heads, breaking their necks. Only one left.
"GO!" both shouted.
Tre ran out on the left side of the pot as Pyrone ran out on the right side, weapons blazing. The soldier was impacted by the bullets, his body thrown from one side to the other as the high-velocity ammo hit it on either side. The blood sprayed from the open holes on the back and front, spilling onto the clean floor. The last soldier flopped over, dead and bleeding profusely. Still, both victors ran to the dead soldiers and looted their weapons and ammo clips from their carcasses.
"Holy shit!" Tre shouted.
"Well, well, well!" Pyrone chuckled excitedly.
"MSCZRD-13s!" Tre said in awe. "These are major elephant killers!"
"Not to mention human killers," Pyrone wowed.
"Let's go help out the others," Tre said, running toward the music store.
"Wait! Wait for me!" Pyrone said, slipping on some blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Man, I'd sure love to play that drum kit again," Duo mused.
"And bring attention to ourselves by the security system?" Quatre sounded aghast.
"Geez, hold your shirt on, Quatre," Duo shot back.
"Quiet!" Heero barked.
All three boys listened closely to the sound of machine guns in the distance. Quatre got all the more worried, Duo's jaw dropped, and Heero listened for anything at all. The crackle of a radio was all that was needed to alert the pilots. An expletive was heard as Heero pulled Duo and Quatre behind a wall.
A volley of machine gun rounds pierced the silence as Heero drew his trusty sidearm. The Wing Zero pilot peeked around the corner and shot off several rounds before his gun jammed.
"DAMMIT!!" Heero shouted.
"HEERO!!" Tre yelled, sliding to their position. "I was hoping you guys would be OK!"
"Yeah, me too," Pyrone said, sliding into the wall, hard.
"What took you guys so long?" Duo yelled.
"Jungle fever," Tre yelped, ducking from a stray bullet. "We had to take care of a little greenery first. Anyway, here."
Tre passed Heero an MSCZRD-13 and handed out his Glocks to Duo and Quatre. Then, he tried to formulate a plan while the fire ceased. He thought that the best way to take care of these guys was to provide a diversion that causes the enemy to follow them while they pick them all off.
"Okay," Tre whispered. "Here's what we're going to do: Duo and Quatre will provide a diversion that will make the soldiers follow after them. Then, they'll lead them past our location so that the three of us can mow them down with these bitches."
"Great plan," Heero agreed.
"Good idea!" Quatre nodded.
"Yeah," Duo said sarcastically. "Except for one thing: I'm creating the diversion! That doesn't sit well with me!"
"Duo," Pyrone soothed. "We need a couple of guys small enough to to do this job right."
"Heero's the same size as me!" Duo half-screamed.
"Duo, you're the Great Destroyer, right?" Tre asked.
"Yeah, but-" Duo was cut off.
"Then you're the best damned person for this job," Tre said simply.
"Oh man," Duo whined. "Oh, fine! Come on, Q-man."
Duo and Quatre leaped behind the 'holey' trash can sitting next to the divider where everyone was hiding. They carefully peeked through the holes to locate their targets, which were standing right inside the music dealer store. Both nodded at each other and took careful aim at one of them. Then, they both emptied their clips inbto the same soldier. All the others just looked upon the crumpled, 'swiss-cheesed' form of their comrade. That's when Duo and Quatre jumped up and ran away. The rest of the Brits followed after them, reloading.
"NOW!" Tre cued.
He, Pyrone and Heero all mowed the three passing British soldiers down with the guns they had possessed. Blood sprayed all over the opposite storefront as the windows cracked and crashed from too many bullet impacts. The soldiers were all dying, their faces reflecting that of an excruciating pain. Each one flopped over, either face first or falling on their backside and arching their backs. Blood flooded the floor from the many open wounds of the dead bodies.
"That was easy," Tre grinned.
"Not to mention," Pyrone surveyed the scene, "messy."
"Well, we did it," Quatre's voice cracked.
"Yep!" Duo agreed. "We sure did!"
He gave Quatre a pat on the back and the latter immediately vomited. Duo's face contorted into a disgusted expression as the smaller boy up-chucked the greenish-yellow juices from his stomach. Quatre kneeled over his lost meal, coughing harshly. Tre walked over to him and rubbed his back.
"It's all right, Quatre," Tre soothed. "It's over, you didn't get shot."
"Yeah," Quatre voiced shakily. "But, I could've been!"
"What about all the times you faced OZ?" Tre asked. "You didn't throw-up then."
"That's different," Quater sniffed, wiping his mouth. "It wasn't point blank range."
"Look, the only way we're going to get anything done is to hook up with Trowa and Wufei and warn them of the impending danger," Heero said.
"Really?" Pyrone chuckled sarcastically.
"Yes," Heero glowered. "I suggest that we armor ourselves so we don't get hurt."
"You mean transform?" Duo querried.
"Yes," Heero replied, producing his 'Palm Pilot'. "Zero!"
The green lines traced his body in the design of his armor, which then began to envelope itself around Heero's body. Soon, it was over and a mini Zero looked at them.
"Well?" the suit urged.
"Hold your horses, Heero," Pyrone said, dropping the gun.
He too, along with Tre, Duo, and Quatre, all produced their transformation tools and recited their incantations. The lines snaked their way around the pilots as the armor began to form up their bodies. They all stared at each other, then they picked up the guns and fired their rockets, flying toward the food court.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I know it has to be around here somewhere!" Wufei growled.
"Take it easy, Wufei," Trowa ordered. "You got to keep a cool head."
"How can I keep a cool head when all my money is practically missing?" Wufei yelled.
"Start breathing," Trowa said.
The two had looked under all the tables and at every counter in the food court, but to no avail. What if the janitor had stolen it already? What if some average person saw it and said, "Oh, what a lovely wallet!" and had taken it home? What if-
"WOULD YOU KNOCK IT OFF?" Wufei screamed at me.
"Hey, I'm the author, here," I boasted.
"Well, shut up!" Wufei shouted. "I can't hear myself think!"
"Well, tough!" I snuffed.
Anyway, Wufei and Trowa were too far across the mall to hear the gunshots from the previous battles but they had some weird sense from their guts telling them to be cautious.
Little did they know that a sniper was waiting on the second story of a coffee shop and aiming straight for Trowa. The tall boy was standing upright, looking this way and that for any sign of Wufei's wallet. He felt like had kicked something and bent down to look at it. It was Wufei's wallet!
"Voila! Wufei, I found it!" Trowa announced.
Then Trowa bent down to pick it up at the exact same moment that the sniper had fired. The bullet whizzed narrowly over Trowa's back, but the boy knew something had gone on. A small smoking hole was not three feet from his position. He dove for the nearest table and yelled for Wufei to get down, too.
The sniper had given up on covert and reverted to 'trigger happy infantryman.' He put the rifle down and pulled out the MSCZRD-13. He loaded a fresh clip into the weapon and opened relentless fire. The hyper-paced machine gun emptied the 700-round clip in almost no time flat: 35 seconds. During that time, Trowa and Wufei were stuck behind their tables; shields that didn't protect very well against their enemy. The round metal tops were impressed by the supersonic bullets, so badly that the impressions were three inches deep or three inches long from the G-boys point of view. Luckily, the bullets did not penetrate.
After the firefight was halted for reloading, Wufei and Trowa both popped up from their hiding places and emptied clip after clip from their pistols. They didn't hit their target, who by the way ducked out of the way, delaying his reloading. However, they did manage to 'decorate' the balcony area of the coffee house. Then, from out of nowhere the sound of rocket motors reached the ears of the three people in the vicinity of each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The five miniature suits flew in a broad arrowhead formation down the many halls of the mall to get to the food court. Why there? Because that's where Wufei last remembered having his wallet. How else would the guy pay for his food?
As the five flew at breakneck speed through the mall, they formed a battle tactical plan...er, sort of.
"Hey Backlash," DreadScythe called over.
"What?" he replied.
"You want to defend our guys or do you want to take out the sniper?"
"Well, both have a high risk involved with it," Backlash pondered. "So I'm fucked either way!"
"I guess so," Deathscythe laughed.
"Yeah, I'll give you guess so," Backlash veered into Deathscythe.
"Hey!" Deathscythe shouted. "Stop that!"
"Shut up," Zero ordered. "I sense gunshot signatures on my soundwave scope."
"Uh oh," DreadScythe mocked, pulling out its gun. "There's gonna be bloodshed!"
"Can't we just knock him unconscious?" Sandrock pleaded.
"No," was the unanimous reply.
The five suits stopped short of the food court and hovered above the area, surveying the scene. They spotted their friends behind tables as the Brit fired upon them relentlessly. They seemed to be in serious distress.
"Backlash, go around the other side and fly up through the bottom floor of the coffee shop and sneak up behind the guy on the balcony," Dreadscythe pointed.
"Why?" Backlash querried.
"I'll get you a damn ice cream if you do," DreadScythe sighed.
"Oh goody," Backlash sarcastically squealed.
The black suit flew off back the way that they had come and circled around to the front of the coffee shop and landed inside. There, he drew his machine guns and carefully walked up the stairs. Slowly, step by step, he drew nearer and nearer to the soldiers position. The rachety sound of the MSCZRD was heard as the soldier apparently fired at the now present mini-Gundams fliting around the food court. Backlash now placed his left foot on the second floor landing, then his right foot.
The soldier had emptied yet another clip and withdrew to reload. Backlash slowly made his way behind the guy and placed both barrels near the guys neck. At the last minute, the guy sneezed as Backlash fired, missing. The soldier turned around, horrified, as Backlash pistol-whipped him across the face and head several times, then shot the unconscious soldier. The body whipped to and fro, spasms rocked the dying muscles and blood came forth from every major bullet wound. The slow exhale told Backlash that the guy was dead.
"All clear!" he called out, igniting his rockets and taking flight.
"You guys okay?" DreadScythe asked Trowa and Wufei.
"Yeah," Wufei groaned as he rose from the floor.
"It's a good thing that you guys came," Trowa said.
"Yeah, well, what would we do without ya, Trowa buddy?" Deathscythe voiced.
"Funny," Sandrock wondered.
"What?" Backlash querried.
"Well, correct me if I'm wrong," Sandrock started, "but you and Tre killed three soldiers, then we just finished killing another three, plus this one sniper."
"Yeah, so?" DreadScythe replied.
"Well, if there were three or four more soldiers, that would mean we had dealt with a whole squadron!" Sandrock concluded.
"Of course!" DreadScythe smacked his head. "The Brits must have broken through the same time barrier we did! Why else would there be British soldiers here in a twentith-century mall trying to kill the lot of us?"
"What a Hell of a way to put two-and-two together," Backlash chuckled.
"Guys," Deathscythe called. "If there, was a squadron here, then that means-"
"Shawn was the leader," DreadScythe pointed out. "Then, we have four overall missing enemies within the confines of this battleground."
"Then we gotta find them!" Zero voiced. "Wufei, Trowa, transform now!"
"Right!" the two chorused.
Both produced their 'Palm Pilot' and raised them above their heads. Then, in tandem, they shouted their respective incantations.
"Zero-three!" Trowa shouted.
"Zero-five!" Wufei shouted.
The familiar transformation sequence unfolded before the eyes of their friends; the transformation soon ended and two more suits joined the ranks to complete the team of mini-Gundams. They all walked in a sort of jagged arrowhead formation without realizing it and drew their beam weapons, replacing their firearms to their holsters. Backlash and Deathscythe drew their scythes; one triple-bladed scythe for Backlash and two twin-bladed scythes for Deathscythe.Heavyarms ignited its armblades, which if they were another foot long, they would drag along the floor. Sandrock held its sickles at the ready, Altron ignited its katanas and the Zero brandished its beam saber. DreadScythe held its sword and scythe ready for combat, taking the lead of the group next to Zero.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dear God," Shawn choked at the sight of his men.
The first two ensigns that fell on their necks were lying like limp dolls on the bottom floor, their necks purple and stuck at an odd angle. Their eyes still open and showing the surprise and fear. The unlucky lieutenant who accompanied the two ensigns had more holes in him than Swiss cheese, and was soaking in his own pool of lifeblood. The two lieutenants and commander that accompanied Shawn weren't as shaken as their commanding officer, but they were surprised to see that their leader was disturbed by the deaths of his own men.
"Sir," the commander spoke.
"Don't..." Shawn voiced shakily.
"Sir, with all due respect, are you really that shaken about the deaths of three men?" the commander asked. "If so, then we really feel that you shouldn't be leading a squadron against seven teenage boys!"
"Don't you challenge me, you insolent mother-" Shawn was cut off by a new voice.
"Fucker?" the voice finished.
"Who's there?" a lieutenant asked, fear present in every syllable.
"The Phantom," the voice replied.
"WHAT!?!" Shawn squeaked.
"You heard me," the voice growled.
From out of nowhere, a lone silhouette stood out against the shadows of the partially darkened mall. It seemed to have dreadlocks and was built rather 'boxy'. Then, it raised its head and caused the four men to scream out loud in terror. The eyes were glowing a bright green, contrasting the dark form of the silhouette. Then, the figure brought something out from behind it that looked like a sword, then it revealed a scythe with a glowing black blade. The commander was scared, shaking very violently of intense fear. Alas, he just couldn't handle it anymore. A yellow stain started at the crotch and ran down his left leg, creating a small puddle of piss at his boot heel. The figure walked slowly out of the darkness, approaching the four huddled soldiers. It looked down at the commander's boot heel, and laughed!
"So," it chuckled. "The big, bad commander pisses himself scared like a little baby."
The commander, fear eating away at his consciousness, eyes like dinner plates, just pulled the trigger on his weapon. The bullets went straight to the figure's abdomen, but it still remained rooted to its spot...not even flinching in pain! Soon, the repetitive clicks told the figure before the soldiers that the commander's weapon was out of ammo. So it grabbed the empty weapon by the muzzle, and twisted it into a knot. This was just too much for the commander, so before he fainted, the seat of his white pants turned a soiled brown.
The lieutenants and Shawn were the only ones left against this suppossed monster. But then six more appeared and flanked the first. Shawn's lip quivered, his pale green eyes wide with fear. The lieutenant to his left had just vomited, the sickly green-brown sludge covered the space in between his boots.
"W-w-w-w," Shawn tried to talk, but couldn't.
"What are we?" the lead monster asked.
Shawn could only nod in response, for his throat had contracted too much for him to talk.
"Well," the tallest one started, "you could say we're just a figament of your imagination; we don't even exist."
"Yeah," the twin scythe toter jumped in. "We are just smaller forms of your worst fears: the Gundams!"
"We were afraid that we wouldn't have caught up with you to have a little conversation," the blue one said. "You see, every person has an inner child and Gundams, the so-called soulless machines, have an inner spirit all their own and we are them."
At this point, the same lieutenant tried to make a run for it. He tried to barrel past the suits, but was held back by the tallest one with the braids.
"Now, now, now," 'Braids' taunted. "Can't let you get away without proving our point, can we?"
'Braids' lifted the lieutenant off the ground by the nape of his neck with ease. The lieutenant gave whimper and started to cry out loud for help, for his mother, and for God to save him from the demon that has him in its clutches. At this last reamrk, all seven suits gave an evil cackle.
"You think we're demons?" 'Braids' retorted.
"We just want to rid the world of the vile plans of your country," 'Dreads' spoke. "And the colonies for that matter, as well."
"H-how d-d-did y-y-y-you g-g-g-g-get h-here?" Shawn managed to stutter.
"We stowed away on your ship," 'Dragon Head' informed.
"How? We do security checks on every part of the ship," the second lieutenant said.
"That's right," the captured lieutenant said.
"Shut your mouth!" 'Braids' barked.
After another whimper from the captured lieutenant, and he shut his mouth. Shawn still wanted to know more from the dreaded one.
"Oy, Dread!" Shawn called.
"What?" 'Dreads' snarled.
"You called yourself the Phantom, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, I know only one person by that alias and he's a pilot of a Gundam that you are suppossedly a spirit of, do you know him?"
"You must mean Tre Young, no?" 'Dreads' replied.
"Actually, yes."
"Yes, he is the pilot of DreadScythe, that's me."
'Oh, so that's what his Gundam is called, eh?' Shawn thought.
'Shit, I shouldn't have said that,' Tre thought.
"Well, DreadScythe," Shawn drawled. "I must commend you and your friends on scaring me but I believe my fears have waned by now."
"Not so," DreadScythe retorted. "Backlash!"
The suit with braids put its free hand over the mouth of the lieutenant in its possession and quickly snapped his neck, killing him and ripping the flesh of the back of his neck off in the process, which caused the body to crumple to the floor.
"Oops," Backlash growled. "I meant to do that!"
The seven of them all cackled again, glowering at the two remaining soldiers. They both turned tail and ran for their lives.
"Let's go get 'em," DreadScythe told his group calmly.
They took flight after the two British officers, catching up to them after about ten seconds. DreadScythe took a swing with its scythe at Shawn's leg, just missing and leaving a gash running across his calf. Shawn roared out in pain and fell to the ground. The lieutenant ran back to his commanding officer only to be caught by the throat and raised above the ground by the mainly silver suit. The choking lieutenant looked at the glaring green eyes of the suit as he tried his hardest to release the grip on his throat. Try as he might, the grip only got tighter and the lieutenant was losing the ability to breathe.
"Crush his windpipe, Zero," the DreadScythe ordered its companion in a cold tone.
"DreadScythe, no!" a smaller suit pleaded.
"Why not, Sandrock?" the taller suit interrogated.
"Because we are killing human beings in cold blood; we are MURDERING THEM!!" Sandrock yelled. "This isn't the ethical approach to dealing with the problem at hand! Sure, killing the first two was fun enough to make our point, but we shouldn't have to brutally punish these two as well."
"Hell, Sandrock," Backlash intervened. "They're British soldiers, they deserve it!"
"No," DreadScythe countered. "Sandrock's right. We are being way too heartless when we should be more understanding and compassionate. Shawn, my Gundams pilot won't be happy to know that you were here, that he didn't have the opportunity to kill you for what you did to his sister."
"How do you know what I did to her?" Shawn questioned, voice cracking.
"I am the inner spirit of the DreadScythe," DreadScythe answered. "Therefore, I know all about my pilot and his modus operandi; if you know Latin, you'll know what I mean."
"W-w-w-what?"
"Get out of here," Dreadscythe reluctantly urged. "Go, before I change my mind."
Shawn looked at DreadScythe like it had grown an extra head or something, but ran to the roof exit.
"You too," DreadScythe told the lieutenant.
Zero let the soldier go and as soon as the soldier made contact with the ground, he slipped, scrambling to get away. He soon regained his footing under the eyes of the seven suits. He looked back several times as he ran away, making sure they didn't follow him.
"Why'd you let them go?" Deathscythe screamed.
"Because I wanted to let them leave with something to think about," DreadScythe replied. "Besides, it isn't my revenge. It's my sister's right to do whatever she chooses to do with him because he's fucked her over...twice in fact, leaving her with the short end of the stick."
"Twice?" Altron checked.
"Twice," DreadScythe verified. "He fucked her without protection; that resulted in the birth of Missy, for one. Second, he claims he isn't the father, leaving the child in her care, for her to worry about. If my dad hadn't been the soft-hearted man he is, then she would be on the streets somewhere with that little girl to look out for in addition to herself.
"So, that's why she deserves this revenge more than I need mine," DreadScythe finished.
"Why would you need revenge?" Heavyarms pondered.
"Because, Shawn and I both did something most regretable to each other in high school after Lory was killed," DreadScythe remembered. "He had made some crack about the British are going to rape and pillage every American girl when they took over all the world and colonies. It was only three weeks after Lory was killed and I had overheard it. So, I snapped and beat him up for it. I went everywhere I knew would hurt the most: the face, nose, instep, ribs, nuts, temples, and the stomach. So ever since then, he and I have been at each other's throats and rivaling one another."
"Hmm," Zero commented. "Sounds like you've had a rough life."
"Nothing compared to you," DreadScythe huffed.
"So," Backlash voiced, de-transforming. "What now?"
"I guess we go," DreadScythe sighed, following Pyrone's action.
All the suits then de-transformed, revealing the five Gundam pilots hidden underneath. The two elder pilots looked at their younger companions, then walked out the mall with them. As they passed through the broken window in the door, Tre turned around and took a last glance at the destruction the mall endured during the fiasco that ensued there.
"You think we should clean up our mess before we have some more fun?" Tre said sardonically.
"No," Pyrone said.
"I'm for that," Tre added, then exited through the door.