a/n. Well, seeing as how I've been threatened with Supertroopers and flogging, and because my beta assures me that this is not too sappy to post, I decided not to go another ten days without updating. I'm glad you're enjoying this, so please don't hurt me if I happen to be a bit slow. Oh, and special thanks to RangerH and cultnirvana – you guys really motivate me.

Chapter 8.

"Hushabye, don't you cry..."

---

Thank God for debris. The current theory was that the torpedo had hit a bit of floating debris from either one of the countermeasures or the response torpedo. In either case, detonation had occurred at least three meters from the hull, rather than actually inside the sub. Not that it really made that much of a difference.

The concussion wave from the explosion had slammed into the ship, compressing the outer hull and crumpling the plating surrounding the port-side propulsion assembly. Leaks in the port-side engineering area had flooded three compartments before containment bulkheads could be secured, and the degree of damage made bailing and patching the effected sections extremely difficult. Engineering estimates indicated the job would take at least seven hours if they could dry-dock, and underwater, that figure would increase twofold.

Sonar had frantically searched the waters for the source of the torpedo, in addition to re-checking MITHRIL satellite data for signs of an aircraft or some other delivery method. No enemy subs or ships seemed to be anywhere in the area. Uneasy rumors that someone may have delivered the torpedo via long-range missile were beginning to circulate. The idea that there was a transmitter somewhere aboard was no longer treated with disbelief; finding it had become the number-one priority for anyone not directly involved in battle or repair operations.

Tessa sat in her chair on the bridge going over the attack again in her mind. It didn't really make much sense to send just one torpedo. Unless the weapon scored a direct hit on something vital, the likelihood of its sinking the ship was relatively small. So was this a test? Just something to ascertain whether they were actually there? If that were the case, why a torpedo? There were plenty of other things one could drop in the water to determine if something was there. Even so, the torpedo had done its work. As soon as the absence of additional sonar contacts had been established, they'd had to surface to minimize the pressure on the rest of the hull while damage was assessed and make-shift repairs were performed. Anyone who knew where to watch with a well-placed satellite would have seen them.

Her fingers pulled nervously at her braid. There had been no deaths in the last attack, but that hardly meant they'd continue to be so lucky. That everyone had managed to evacuate engineering with only one crewman critically injured was a testament to the thoroughness of the crew's training. Response times had been excellent. Duties had been handled with the cool professionalism one would expect of seasoned MITHRIL sailors. And they only sent one torpedo...

Four whole days, she'd agreed to give Kaname. Four days (well, a little under three now)of no pressure, no interrogation, no outside interference in the mental war she knew the girl was waging with herself. Had she made the right decision? Was an old friend's life really worth the horrible risk she'd placed upon her crew? Looking over at Commander Mardukas as he discussed the new course with the helm, she could not help but feel his silent accusations. Kaname may have placed the transmitter, but Tessa's own weakness was what allowed it to stay aboard long enough for this to happen.

As if sensing her thoughts, the commander finished his conversation with the helm and returned to her side. "They're making the adjustments to the steering to compensate for lack of port-side thrust. We'll be limping, but we should make it in about four hours." His eyes were hard, but he sounded merely tired.

"Thank you, Commander."

"It's a good plan, sticking to the trenches. We'll have a much better chance of evading torpedoes and confusing enemy sonar. But our maneuverability isn't nearly what it was." He sighed. "Crush depth is going to be considerably shallower, too, considering." Considering our port-side has all sorts of dents and cracks in it. Considering we were practically inches from being blasted to kingdom come. Considering your mis-allocated loyalty just about cost you your crew and still might. Tessa's mind was quick to supply a maelstrom of guilt. "Take a break. It's going to get worse before it gets better." He was staring at her closely, and she decided not to argue.

"Very well, Commander. I will be in my quarters. If anything happens--"

"I'll call."

She left the bridge, and headed for her quarters. She felt as though she'd only just closed her eyes when the whistle on her comm unit sounded. Not again. She took a deep breath to steady herself; it would not do for the Captain to be heard whining like a child over lack of sleep or the unfairness of battle.

"Bridge to the Captain."

"Captain speaking."

"New sub contact. You're needed on the bridge."

---

"Ahh. A picture is worth a thousand words."

"I thought you'd like that. The buyers were likewise impressed."

"Excellent. And our price?"

"Has been met by several of them. I informed them of the lack of exclusivity for each attempt."

"Very polite of you, but keep in mind that if this stirs up a rivalry or two, our business can only benefit."

"I'm sorry. I had not considered that."

"Not to worry. You're young, after all." A pause. "Anything new from our guest?"

"Oh, yes. Mr. Leuyenduyck regrets to report that he has had to call a hiatus in the proceedings. It seems our guest's liver began to hemorrhage and some emergency surgery became necessary. Mr. Vermeer has yet to regain consciousness."

"Hmm. Not that I would ever think of offering advice to one of Mr. Leuyenduyck's proficiency, however do let him know that Agent Maerek is at his disposal. He'll know what I mean."

"Of course. You know, you have something of a cruel streak."

"Don't we all?"

---

"Joel? Hey, Joel. Wake up." This was a familiar voice. A friend's voice. What on earth was a friend's voice doing here? "Come on, Joel. Quit faking. Are you gonna live or what?"

He groaned. That was about all he could manage. He couldn't move his head. He couldn't feel his hands. The back of his throat was dry and raw with screaming. His stomach felt as though it had exploded and his feet—a pair of shears: snip, snip, a toe held before his eyes and the blood—his feet hurt a lot.

"Damn, you're in rough shape. Come on. Wake up for me, please?"

"Jan?" He'd finally placed it, but it made no sense at all. What on earth was his roommate doing here in hell? Unless. "Oh God, Jan, did they get you too?" His words were barely a whisper. A tear leaked down his cheek. With an effort, he forced his eyes open. Leaning over the bed, his roommate's face peered down at him. Dark, symmetrical bruises marred both cheeks and his neck was encircled by a brace. The skin of his forehead and nose appeared badly sunburned, but his eyes were marvelously unharmed. So familiar. So concerned.

"You could say that. Jeez, Joel. You look like my face feels. What the hell happened in the lab this time?" In the lab... huh? He stared at his roommate and confusion began to cloud his mind. Had he been having some sort of nightmare? Nightmares never hurt this much when you woke up, but then again, he also remembered being shot in the lab that night. The idea that he'd simply been shot made a hell of a lot more sense than the thought that he'd been captured and tortured. Part of his mind wanted nothing more than to believe it—anything to avoid thinking about that horribly reasonable voice, and its carefully calculated agonies.

"Where are we?"

"In a hospital, you dork. Where else would we be? We found you in that lab under a bunch of concrete when you didn't come home last night." He took a deep breath and coughed a bit before continuing. "That crazy robot of yours was in the way of getting you out and they asked me to move it, since I kinda remembered how you did it that last time."

"You piloted Saya?" Joel knew there was a reason that this shouldn't be possible, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of it. And besides, any situation in which he could believe himself safely in a hospital, rather than in the hands of the enemy, was preferable to a more logical, horrible truth.

"Tried to. The damn thing nearly killed me." One of Jan's bandaged hands touched his blistered face gingerly. His expression took on a seriousness that Joel had seldom seen on his happy-go-lucky roommate. "One minute I was... in the lab. The next I was somewhere else, and you know it was the strangest thing, but part of me honestly believed I was turning into the new place," he half-smirked, his burns obviously bringing the gesture up short.

"Psi field. Don't mess with it, Jan." Somehow it seemed terribly important to impress this point upon him. "You screw up with that, and you'll go nuts," like Kaname, "or die," was that what happened to Yoshi? "or become way too interesting to some very mean people." Very mean. No. It wasn't a dream. It happened. That slight nausea; that's the drugs. And my feet; I'm only imagining them. I'm being brainwashed. The realization struck him as oddly amusing, and he laughed weakly, feeling the ache of his diaphragm bouncing against internal injuries. "You're not really here, are you Jan?"

His roommate frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"You're just another one of their tricks. Jan doesn't know anything. There's no reason for the real Jan to be here." He redirected his stare to the ceiling. "IT'S NOT GOING TO WORK, YOU BASTARDS! I'M NOT TELLING YOU SHIT!" It was pure bravado. He knew that one more day of this – one more hour – and he would tell them everything, anything, to make them stop the games and the pain. But maybe an hour would be enough. Maybe the real Jan would talk to the cops. Maybe those MITHRIL people would declare war on these bastards. Maybe somehow, someone would rescue him.

"You can't go on like this, buddy." It sounded so much like Jan. "You always were way too stubborn. But for what it's worth, you were a good roommate," he seemed sincere, and yet sad. It took several moments for Joel to put it together. The way his previous roommate had left suddenly for a family matter. The way Jan had shown up and been so perfect. The fact that it had all happened three weeks after Chikitaka-san signed the contract with Vrees.

"Jan..." his heart sank with realization. "You found the satchel." The words hurt almost as much as the scissors.

Jan nodded. "I knew you wouldn't take it with you to the police station, and if our apartment wasn't a safe place, I knew you'd go straight to your hiding spot with it before you saw them."

"You stole Saya." Breathing was suddenly very difficult.

"And nearly died for it." He gave a bitter laugh. "They're going to make me pilot her again tomorrow, so if you're pissed at me now, at least you probably get to have the last laugh." He stared off into space for several moments as Joel panted around the lump in his throat. Finally, Jan leaned back over the bed, and in a near whisper, continued. "I'm going to give you a little advice." Joel closed his eyes tightly, just wishing Jan would leave. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, but you don't know these people like I do. Give them the cypher to the notes, Joel." Joel gave the slightest shake of his head, but Jan spoke without a pause. "They'll kill you if you don't. What's worse, they'll kill your aunt, your grandfather, those Japanese friends of yours; everyone you talked to on the off chance you told them something."

"That include you, you son of a bitch?"

"No. But they know where Chidori is, and you'd better believe she's at the top of the list to join you here." The words sounded as true as gold and inevitable as taxes. "There's no way you're getting out of here alive – even I can't save you, and whether you believe me or not, I did try." Joel felt a hand grasp his wrist and he opened his eyes to stare his former roommate in the face as the man continued. "But you can save Chidori. Give them the cypher and they don't need her anymore." He stood, and moved beyond Joel's view. Joel heard a door open. Jan's voice pierced the room one final time. "It's what Chikitaka would have wanted." Joel heard the slight hiss and creak as the door closed, and he felt another presence had replaced Jan in the room.

"Ah, Mr. Vermeer," Words as smooth as glass, with edges just as sharp. "Glad to see you've decided to wake up. Shall we continue?"

NOOOOOOO!

---

"ooo!"

Sousuke was instantly awake, instinctively hiding that fact as his ears strained for any sound of an intruder. Hearing none, he sat up, removed his pistol from beneath the sleeping bag and inspected his surroundings. To his left, the wooden door remained closed and locked. Its support posts appeared un-tampered with, and the bamboo wall showed no signs of a breach. The pile of supplies behind him bore no evidence of having been moved, and the moonlight streaming through the solitary window in front of him, above the hut's sole counter, revealed no unusual shadows or movement. That left –

"yoshi...nooo" Kaname's voice was muffled more by sleep than by the canvas curtain he'd arranged between their sleeping bags. He slid it aside and crawled over next to her, taking in her disheveled hair, clenched fists and closed eyes at a glance. She was sleeping on top of the sleeping bag – the night had been rather warm – and her pajamas were twisted around her as though dragged through a singularly localized tornado. The collar had slid sideways and was now pulled taught against her throat and she seemed to be wrestling with it, for all that she was clearly far from waking. It would have been amusing, if not for the pained look on her face. He sighed.

"Kaname, wake up. You are having a nightmare." She seemed oblivious, and continued to struggle until finally he lifted her shoulder and tugged the collar free. She rolled toward him and he found his arm trapped under hers, held teddy-bear-like against her face and chest.

"don't die... this time..." she murmured to the captured limb. In the moonlight, he could see the streaks of tears on her cheek, and hesitated. It hurt to see her this way, for all that it was an improvement over the Whispered speech. He lay down beside her, conceding her the arm. Minutes ticked by, and the young woman slept peacefully. Sousuke finally decided she was over her dream and was about to extricate himself when her eyes opened. She stared at him and he returned her gaze, unsure of how to proceed. Then she squeezed his arm more tightly. Her eyes closed and tears silvered the feathery lashes against her cheeks.

"I couldn't hold him close enough. I killed him, Sousuke."

"I'm sorry." He cursed his inability to formulate a more appropriate response, but his own past experiences told him that there was seldom a "right" thing to say to a grieving person. He thought about trying to reassure her that it wasn't her fault. Kurz had a tendency to be the first to inform him when he was taking on more responsibility than he honestly deserved in the death of a comrade, or even an enemy. The disturbing truth, however, was that he didn't know what had happened that night. While he didn't believe Kaname could ever have killed someone in cold blood, he also could not forget the blankness in her eyes as she leveled the gun at him that night. "When you were in high school, you generally responded to emotional situations by discussing them with your friends. If this preference has not changed, and you would like to talk now, I would be honored to listen."

She sniffed and her lips curled into a small, sad smile. Then she sniffed again, and wiped her eyes with her free hand. In the moment that her hand was occupied, he freed his arm and crawled back to his side of the curtain, but returned almost immediately, bearing a package of tissues. He noted her relief at his reappearance.

"You want me to tell you about Yoshi?" She sat up and wiped her nose, then crumpled the tissue and looked around for the wastebasket. Sousuke interrupted her search, taking the tissue and setting it aside before taking a second one to gently wipe old tears from her cheeks.

"I want you to tell me whatever you need to say to help yourself deal with this situation." He set the second tissue with the first, then settled himself more comfortably on the unoccupied edge of her sleeping bag. "In MITHRIL, we are debriefed at the conclusion of every mission, incident, and assignment." Kaname helped herself to a third tissue and blew her nose again. Sousuke continued, "This provides our commanders with the fullest situational data, however it also allows us a chance to review the situation, assess its positive and negative aspects and determine future courses of action."

"You want me to give you a situational report for that night," her voice held a trace of its characteristic spirit, but then she sighed. "The data collection continues. Would you believe I actually got pretty good at giving reports?"

"I am certain such a skill would have been as valuable in a scientific context as in a military one."

"Hmm." She punched her pillow into a more convenient shape before lying back down, her face to the ceiling. "Sometimes I think you two might have gotten along pretty well," she said, twisting her neck slightly, seemingly unable to find the right alignment with the small, grey cushion. She sat up abruptly. "We're not being recorded in here, are we?"

"No."

"There aren't any cameras or tape recorders? Kurz isn't stashed away in the cupboard with a notepad?"

"We are alone, and to the best of my knowledge, free of surveillance."

In a swift movement, Kaname grabbed the wrist of the arm upon whose elbow Sousuke had been reclining and pulled it out from under his chin. He found himself flat on his back, as the young woman settled her neck on his shoulder and once again stared at the ceiling. "Are you comfortable?"

He had a distinct impression that his arm would be falling asleep in a matter of minutes, but he nodded anyway.

"I needed a better pillow for this story," she explained, and taking a deep breath, spoke for the first time about Yoshi and Kaname, and the last night of their life.

---

"K-chan, are you alright?" The voice in her helmet was loud and slightly panicked. "K-chan! Answer me! Your integrity dropped to 90. Are You Okay?"

"I co-located with a semi-truck. I've felt better. molecularintegrityat96.3percentandclimbing...hydrocarbonandsteelcontaminationatnominallevels..." she murmured, feeling her conscious mind lapsing away beneath the comfortable logic of the Whispers.

"K-chan, snap out of it." Her sensors registered Yoshi's logon on the remote, and Saya chimed in with a warning of system ingress.

"terminusdensityexceededadviseablelevels--"

"I know that, Kaname. I saw the thing on the damn recorder. Crazy L.A. drivers." Yoshi's eyes were hidden behind the headset, but his mouth frowned, and he hit a switch on one of the lab walls.

/External power connection fluctuating./

"I need you to eject from Saya, Kaname. Now." She saw him approach the back of the A-S before flinching back. "And drop the Lambda shield before I hurt myself."

The idea of Yoshi hurting himself pierced the shimmering calculations of her Whispered self, and she managed to break free. "Saya, disengage lambda driver."

/Lambda driver off line. External power disengaged. Time to shut-down, five minutes./

"Are you back?" Yoshi's voice sounded a little calmer. "It looks like your integrity is topping out at about 97."

"Umm, yeah. I think so. I'm not sure whether to worry about my legs or my axles at the moment." In the viewer, she saw Yoshi step up behind the A-S and grin into the dorsal camera. She keyed the eject sequence, and felt the familiar drop in pressure as the access panel opened. Then arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her backwards into the lab.

"Legs, K-chan. Definitely legs." He hugged her for a moment, before letting her sit on the floor to get her bearings. "Well, at least we know it works. Co-location worked like a charm." He smiled, and she rolled her eyes. "Well, you're not dead, and somewhere in L.A. there's a truck-driver thinking he had the worst dream in the universe. Not to mention the footage you got..." he smiled excitedly before removing the headset and catching her stare. "You think Hollywood or Hong Kong might be interested in this thing?" She laughed. She couldn't help it.

"So we're done." They shared a look full of triumph and exhaustion.

"We're done," he sat on the floor in front of her, cross-legged, their knees touching. "I can never thank you enough. Whatever happens."

She looked away, unable to match the seriousness of his implication. "I'm the one who should be grateful. You're the one who made this work." She dropped a confident mask over her confused heart, and smiled at him. "So can we go home now?"

"Do you think you'd be up for running her through one last power-up cycle? I want to make sure that pilot-system separation is complete and that circuit integrity was maintained." He was being his usual, overly-cautious self, but she couldn't really blame him.

"Okay, but only if you're buying the drinks tomorrow night."

"Deal."

She climbed back into the A-S, and instructed Saya to power up. She saw Yoshi stand and set the headset on one of the work benches as the reboot froze her limbs immobile. She watched him cross the lab to stand in front of Saya. Then she watched the man in the business suit enter the lab, H&K pointed straight at Yoshi.

"Your time's up, Mr. Chikitaka. I don't see any notes." The man's voice was cold, reptilian. Yoshi whirled to face him. Two minutes, thirty-nine seconds.

"There aren't any. I've decided not to give this discovery to Vrees. Or should I say, I've decided I'd rather not involve myself with arms dealers." The first shot hit Yoshi squarely in the foot, and he screamed. One minute, fifty-seven seconds.

"I really wish you'd reconsider." The man made a show of aiming again. Yoshi, on the ground reaching for his injured foot, raised his stunned face to the intruder.

"You'll never find them. I cannot allow the things Venserre would do with this technology." This time, the shot caught him in the ankle and his scream was louder than before. For a moment, he turned reflexively to look at Kaname, hidden as she was in the seemingly lifeless A-S. She saw the suffering on his face, as well as his determination to protect her. Thirty-two seconds.

"Ah. So there are notes. Care to tell me where they are? If not, I'd be happy to ask your lab assistant. Or perhaps that lovely girl I've seen hanging around?"

Time. "Saya, disable exterior lights. Activate Lambda driver. Initialize psi field." She kept her voice low, despite the fact that the helmet was sound-proofed.

/Lambda driver active. 94 efficiency. Psi field is ready for deployment. Estimated field radius at 49.6 centimeters./

"They know nothing about this. Give up." The pain in Yoshi's voice stirred a deep anger in Kaname, and she watched with impatient anguish as he dragged himself up from the floor to stand in front of Saya.

"You don't really think that's an option, do you?" The man raised the gun a third time. "Then again, if you're not going to tell me anything, your usefulness is at an end." He smiled. "After all, we have the prototype."

/Initialization complete./

"Yoshi!" Kaname acted with almost no conscious thought. Armor-clad arms wrapped themselves around her partner, turning him towards her and drawing him into a crushing embrace even as the psi field established itself. She felt the co-located echo of the shot, saw tears on Yoshi's face, and heard the Whispers present her emotions with a terrifying possibility. Anger flared and the lab exploded in a conflagration of rage and lambda energy.

---

"I couldn't hold him close enough," her voice shook and she knew the tears were flowing freely now. "49.6 centimeters. If I could just have brought him two or three centimeters closer the field might have saved him," she sobbed, turning away to curl into a fetal ball, her cheek still pressed to his upper arm. "I knew what that lambda driver could do. I knew exactly what would happen to the lab, and the people in it, but I just didn't care." She cried harder, choking on her words. "I watched that man's face burn to ash. He looked so surprised. I watched Yoshi's eyes go blank." Her shoulders hunched as she pulled herself in more tightly. "He was smiling at me." Guilt and grief overwhelmed her, supplanting her voice and filling her throat.

In her mind, the scenes that had been lurking beneath the Whispers, behind the protective barriers, suddenly shone through with perfect clarity: Saya's voice relaying the target termination information; Yoshi's blank, smiling eyes; the blood that flowed from him when the field dropped; the horrible stillness of his chest when she finally extricated herself from the A-S and fell sobbing on his bosom. She remembered the ozone smell of the lab, and the faint scent of rose petals from the bouquet he'd hidden in the control room. She remembered the terrible realization of what she'd done, and her despairing surrender to the Whispers – how they'd analyzed the scenario, and triumphantly reiterated the offensive potential of the new weapon. Then she remembered where she was.

Oh god. She'd told someone. She'd told Sousuke. She'd confessed murder, and somehow that made everything that much more real: that much more inescapable. And now she was sobbing like a baby, inches from the last person on earth she'd want to see her weakness. She brought her fist to her mouth in a futile attempt to smother her crying.

"Don't." A strong but gentle hand pulled her fist down, away from her face. Then it dropped to her lower shoulder, and she felt herself cocooned in an unyielding, yet strangely comforting embrace. "You may cry for as long as you can, but you must deal with this." She tried half-heartedly to pull away, but Sousuke only held her tighter. So she bawled. She sobbed until her stomach was sore with it and her throat ached with it and Sousuke's arm was drenched in tears. She cried until dawn greyed the windows and her entire body felt weighted down with exhaustion. The whole time, Sousuke did not let go.

Finally, it was over. The grief remained, but she felt strangely hollow, as though her last sob had been drained from her with no emotion left in its place. Reluctantly, she turned to face her old friend.

"I'm a killer."

"Yes." His voice was quiet, acknowledging truth, but without any further admonishment. "To everything, there is a season." There was acceptance in the words, understanding woven in a whisper. Some part of his soul touched hers as never before, and for a moment, it was almost like resonance. "Please sleep now. We will finish your report in the morning."

"You'll stay with me?" She didn't really have to ask, but she deeply needed to hear it.

"Affirmative."