Title: Made of Steel

Summary: Before Shion and KOS-MOS, before Jr. and MOMO, there was Ziggy. This is the story of Ziggurat 8 before the events of Xenosaga.

Notes: Hooray! Feedback! Aight, thanks for the support, etc, etc...duly appreciated. This chapter happens to be the point in which events start unfolding...and since I'm so utterly tired right now, I cannot think of more to say...murds are wuddled...not clearly I thinking am...

Also, please note that this chapter has some blood, violence, mild swearing…the rating is PG-13, after all.

Also…SPOILERS AHEAD! WARNING: XENOSAGA II SPOILERS AHEAD!

Disclaimer: Consult previous chapter.

Italics are flashbacks.

Bold is the intercom, or the computer's voice (a recording).

Chapter 3

"...attempt at reestablishing a connection with the neural system damaged by the fatal wound. We try not to add too many synthetic parts, not only because they're expensive, but adjusting to each artificial framework takes time, you know..."

The technician talked nonstop, apparently unaware that her sole listener had not spoken a word of reply since entering the room. She busily adjusted the different parameters of the maintenance bed, never stopping once for a breath or even a glance in the cyborg's direction. After what was blessedly a short wait, she finished.

"Good luck!" she chirped cheerfully, before exiting the room.

Ziggurat stared at the door for a long minute. He then closed his eyes and returned to his thoughts.

"This is the last installment of the ICS," Francine told him. They now stood in the workroom of a station not dissimilar to the one he had woken to. The Sergeant crossed her arms as she spoke. "Our...your official registration will be completed here. Afterwards, a medical official will be overseeing your post-analysis."

Number 4, who had resumed his leisurely slouch against the wall, lifted his head and snorted. He then grunted when Lucky drove his elbow into his soft side. The older cyborg brushed him away and reverted his eyes toward the window overlooking a small, circular room.

"Ziggurat," said Francine, earning his attention. "No matter what happens, I know."

She eyed him meaningfully, turned around, and walked to a console just before the large window pane. She sat down without so much as glancing at him again.

"Well, we'll be right here, scratching our rear ends, countin' sheep," muttered Number 4. "Go on in."

"Excuse me," said a bright, female voice. A technician appeared inside the door leading to the maintenance room. "But we're ready for Subject 08 now."

Ziggurat slowly opened his eyes to the brightness of the room. The silence was near deafening. He could feel the place where the system had been connected to the synthetic part of his brain. It was different from last time – he felt the cold bite in his skin. This time, he was aware of the activity that passed through the main computer and his Double I. He knew nothing of the actual work being done, which he assumed to be confidential. So he simply remained still.

A soft hissing surprised him. Ziggurat saw the door slide open again to admit another technician – no, not a technician. A doctor. He recognized Evans immediately.

"Yes, I know," she interrupted him before he could get a word out. "What am I doing here, right? Well, it so happens that the doctor who was previously assigned here wasn't feeling well. So I'm filling in." Her emerald gaze scanned him for a second. "Unless that's a problem with you?"

"Uh, no," he said hesitantly. He never was a genius at concealing his discomfort.

"Liar," she accused him wistfully. "Not that it matters. Once I take the shift, it's my shift." She sighed. "Anyway, we're diving in now. There's a good chance you'll black out for the whole thing. So just sit back, relax…or, pretend you're relaxing. I get the impression that you're the kind of guy that doesn't usually relax."

"Not really," he admitted. "It's not part of my job."

"Join the club," Dr. Evans muttered, more or less to herself than to him. "Okay, establishing link with the mother computer. See you on the other side, Zig-"

000

"-Jan, you look like hell after an asteroid hit it," said Arram. The lieutenant sat on a stool next to him and said something incoherent to the bartender. "I mean, physically, you look as if you need a week in intensive care. Mentally…I'm starting to worry 'bout that, too."

"I'm in no position to argue with you," said Jan. He appeared fascinated with the glass before him. "You have other things to worry about besides me. I'm perfectly fine."

Arram leaned back from the counter in mock bewilderment. "Fine? You're not fine! That's water in your glass, Sauer! You're in a bar – drink somethin' you can only find in a bar!"

Jan turned his head. "Last time?"

"What? Sonya? Man, Captain, I know you love that kid, but-"

000

"-impossible! The databank is expanding tenfold – doctor, we can't control it from here, try to reroute the EC from the console. The Sergeant is in static shock – if we don't pull her out of there, we could lose her! If only we could-"

000

"-it's only another week, Jan," she said gently. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. Those eyes…

He tried to move, but it was clear that he was only a passenger in this memory. The scene unfolded before him…his memory, and something else.

"I thought the East End investigation was over," he remarked suspiciously.

"It was," she sighed. Her velvet green bag dropped onto the bed. Inside that bag was…

Photos. Papers. Evidence not of the crime she had been sent to investigate, but of another crime…

"It turns out they arrested the wrong gang member," she told him, rushing to collect a few more garments to add to her bag. "The leader of the investigation…hmm, I think Sergeant Marzak…anyway, he was called back from his vacation to hunt down the right guy. They need me to interview the guy they arrested – where did I put my PalmCom?"

"Sonya, what about Eric? I can only look after him when I'm off-duty." Jan placed his hand on the corner of the dresser, blocking her path with his arm as she tried to squeeze past him.

She turned to him, her arms crossed. "My mother will watch him during the day. In fact, she offered to watch him all week, so you don't have to travel across the city day and night to pick him up."

"I don't mind," he said honestly. "You know I would rather spend time with him than be at the station."

"I know," she replied in earnest. "Which is why you should understand how I feel about going away…but I have to work, baby. They're threatening to close East End down, and I don't want that."

Jan lowered his arm. "Will you at least say goodbye?"

Sonya faltered. "I-"

000

"-can't shut it down! The EC is no longer responding to manual override! It's…it's creating new networks inside of the diving area at…at an impossible rate! This computer doesn't even run that fast! Sergeant Francine, she's…Becky, she'll lose her mind to this thing if we don't get it under control!"

"I know, I know…" That was Dr. Evans. Her voice sounded parched, urgent. She was nearby, speaking from somewhere near the console to his right. It was the voice of Evans, yet it was the voice was Arram, and Sonya as well. It floated around him. "No…this can't be happening! Not to Francine!" There was a choked pause, and the sound of clenched fists striking the console. "Let go of her, damn you!"

Ziggurat's eyes snapped open. The room was like a beacon, blinding him, like scoring a great scar through his eyes and into his head. He realized immediately that he too, was choking, paralyzed. Although his body would not respond, his mind whirled like massive storm of unknown currents. There was screaming that was not his, or that of the people around him. Terrible sounds, images flashing through the torrent of jumbled memories and electronic pulses.

Then Evans was there, standing just above him. Through his near-blindness, the numbness, he saw that her face was fixed with both anger and frustration. As twisted as his own face might have been with both pain and effort to battle the anomaly, she seemed to not notice.

"Listen to me, you…you monster," she seethed forcefully. "Let her go. Let everything go. Forget it all! You're going to kill her! S-stop it! Stop fighting it!"

I'm not…fighting, he thought bluntly. It was all there, every last memory, spread out before him like a deck of cards. Instead of disappearing, however, they continued to accumulate by the thousands. He confronted them all at once. I can't let them go. They won't stop. Why is this happening?

Dr. Evans hunched over him, pressing both her hands over his right hand. "Please…" Her voice wavered. "Please let her go…this isn't supposed to happen. The others weren't like this…let go of her…let-"

000

"-evacuate the premises immediately. A citywide state of emergency is in effect. Please advance to the nearest shelter as soon as possible. Again, we ask that you evacuate the premises…"

Flames licked at the buildings surrounding the empty square. The hollow shells of burnt-out cars, bodies of men and women, broken rubble and scorch marks lay scattered everywhere. Men, men of his own detachment, who had been part of his team, were dead. Blood was on the ground, on the walls, in the streams of water running from broken pipes. Dust was thick in the air.

Jan was running. Running away from the images of Arram's face, pale, dead. Towards the district where his entire life lived. He occasionally stumbled over the cracked pavement, nearly trampling the dead and wounded. He was an officer, hired to fight off threats to the city and the citizens. He had fought against the monster like the others. He had failed – he had lost the entire squad in an explosion that nearly killed him as well. He was no longer an officer, but a father with a will that laughed in the face of duty.

The creatures – Gnosis, where retreating now. They had found the secret amidst the governmental buildings, the Emulator that had been the agency's biggest secret for decades. Now that it was gone, there was no reason for them to continue destroying the city in order to recover it.

He knew this, because it had been amidst the words of that non-human. Right before he killed it – the one that killed Arram. It had also promised that the Gnosis fleet in orbit would annihilate the East End. No one who had been in close contact with the Emulator would survive. Mustn't survive. They would not allow that.

Must run. Get Eric, take him, and run. Nothing else mattered.

000

"-vital signs are fading, doctor. Both of them – the clear function has been completely overwritten, so the system…since it's not responding, I can't get either of them out of there. You have to figure it out down there! The cyborg's doing something to the system – I don't know what – but there's only thirty-five seconds until the entire mainframe crashes!"

000

No.

No, no, no.

Dead mother. Blood, bodies, complete wreckage. The mother, Sonya's mother, dead, hardly recognizable in her ravaged state.

Now it came in flashes. The memory wasn't complete – broken, like those bodies. He had chosen to repress it, the images. A man stood there, like death. Someone he recognized, just barely. Another non-human, wading in a pool of blood. Voyager.

And blood. Eric's blood.

000

"-critical! System failure is imminent! Ten seconds to complete shutdown! Doctor, get out of there, now! Who knows what will happen when the mainframe crashes – you could be killed if the console explodes! Please, doctor, get-"

000

Blood. His own this time, but not nearly so much. He had been wrong, mislead. It was slaughter, all of it, simply a game to please the time. The Emulator, gone. Eric…gone.

He reached for it. It had been knocked from his hands before, but it was still there. His pistol – he would never lose it.

Will you at least say goodbye?

She had said, "I can't. You tell him for me. Tell him…he's a good boy."

He reached it. It was comfortable in his hand.

Goodbye.

000

"Doctor! The mainframe's walls are automatically reconstructing themselves! The anomalous networks are collapsing on their own…someone cut the feed between AIs before it could shut down the system – Becky, the Sergeant, she's-"

Dr. Evans whirled around, staring in awe at the large glass window above. There was a flourish of some movement, but it was nearly impossible to tell what was happening at the angle the window was positioned. Quietly, Evans backed up until she nearly fell backwards over the maintenance bed and Ziggurat, who occupied it. As if suddenly remembering his existence, she looked down at him with a perplexed expression.

His eyes were solemn, but he was no longer blinded or infused with pain. Without a single word, Ziggurat reached behind him, detached the annoying device from the system, and stood up. Evans' eyes widened and she stumbled away from him, as if afraid he might attack her.

They were both distracted by the door. It opened, and through it walked a very dazed, but intact Sergeant. Francine took two steps into the circular room before opening her mouth in speechlessness. She stopped, and looked very near the verge of tears, although they did not actually show.

"Ziggurat, I…" Her breath choked her for a moment. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I should never have…but the Emulator, when I saw it, I had to-"

She stopped again, closed her mouth and shook her head. "That's no excuse. I was wrong for doing that. I had…no idea. It's all my fault…"

"Francine…" Dr. Evans looked long and curiously at the Sergeant.

"It was my fault," Francine said again. "I took control over the mainframe when the anomaly infiltrated it. I had orders. I was supposed to investigate the Emulator, but what I found…" She closed her eyes. "How could they? How dare they? In fifteen years, I've never heard of…"

"Sergeant?" grunted Number 4. The old cyborg had appeared in the room, accompanied by Lucky. They both appeared genuinely concerned.

Francine inhaled sharply, then sighed. "No, nothing. It's none of my business. It is the business of Ziggurat."

"Ziggurat wasn't the one? Francine, you hacked into the system without telling us?" Evans said disbelievingly. Her eyes snapped towards Ziggurat and she paled even further, which was quite a feat. "But I thought-"

"That is over now," Ziggurat interrupted. "Had I been in your place, Dr. Evans, I would have felt the same way. No hard feelings."

"Really? Thank you…" Evans breathed. "This is all too much for my brain to handle. I should have taken that vacation the ministry offered me…"

Attention cyborg maintenance personnel. Any available technicians and First Class officers are required to report to the cyborg hangar in the standard of an emergency. Emergency serial 00-05-39.

The air seemed to drop a thousand degrees as the voice through the intercom relayed its message again. After a clouded moment, Number 4 swore loudly.

"Calamity!" he barked angrily. "Dammit, that's Calamity's serial number! That careless idiot hen!"

"Calamity…" Lucky's voice was soft. He cast his eyes away.

"I…we should go back to the hangar. Ziggurat, you…will stay here. Dr. Evans – Becky, run his registry through Station C's mainframe," said Francine. Her normally serene face was shaded with concern. "Ziggurat, I…wish to speak to you later. Right now, I have a cyborg to rescue from the hands of ignorant men."

"Time's a wastin', Frankie," Number 4 growled.

"Please," Francine stated firmly, looking between both the young doctor and the cyborg. Quietly, she turned around and briskly fled the room. Both Lucky and Number 4 were close on her heels. And for what was the second time that day, Ziggurat was alone with Evans. Only this time, there was a particular wedge there that made the following silence almost unbearable.

Dr. Evans eventually looked away, clasping one hand in the other. "I, um…let's go, then. I was supposed to submit your analysis data to the ministry an hour ago. And…Ziggurat, I-"

"I told you," he said. "There was nothing that could be done. Your concern for Francine is reasonable, and nothing to be ashamed of."

She opened her mouth, as if to say something. But she closed it again, and a pause ensued. Then she nodded.

And it was clear that she understood, too.

-tries to wade through the plot- Urgh…too…thick…must thin out…the plot…heh heh. Okay, it was a bit sad…angsty…but I hope it evolved the story. A little. At least? Just a tiny bit?