Author: Mistress of Darkness
Date: 05/19/05
CAPTURE
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A young girl walked out onto the battlefield. Or at least, what had been the battlefield. Bits of metal, some small, others quite large, were strewn across the ground. She paused, looking up at the largest piece of all - a giant metal head with a broken eye; the remains of a destroyed mobile suit. "So...this was the Blitz."
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He was falling, falling deep into an unending darkness, further and further. Flames rose up all around him; hot, searing, trying to consume him. "No!" he cried in agony as he struggled to break free of the flames, though only darkness waited beyond. Nowhere to go, no way to escape. Helplessness overcame him like a wave. And still the fire burned.
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A cool hand touched his burning forehead as he cried out in his sleep. He could feel someone there, somewhere beyond this darkness. As suddenly as they had come, the flames died away, leaving him alone in the darkness. "I'm dreaming," he cried bitter tears. The pain had faded, and somewhere there was someone calling. Someone wanted him back.
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"I'll get you this time!" Dearka fired at the Legged ship, dodging the shots as it fired back at him. The ship slowly toppled and began to plunge toward an island. There Dearka made a fatal mistake.
Letting his guard down for a moment, the ship fired a few last-minute shots at the Buster. "Ahh!" he cried in surprise as he too plunged toward the island. Unable to fully right himself in time, he braced for impact.
The Buster hit the ground and continued to slide backwards. In the cockpit, Dearka banged his shoulder painfully against something. He could feel a sharp pain there, but could not pay it mind. He knew as soon as he'd stopped sliding and looked at his moniters that he was in trouble. He was right in the line of fire of the grounded Legged ship.
Frantically, he struggled with the controls. He needed to move! "Come on!" he said to the Buster, as if it would obey his vocal command. "There's no power," he realized as his power gage dropped to dangerous nothing. "Damn!" he cursed, looking back to the moniter screen.
The Legged ships cannons were locked onto him, and there was no way to avoid them. 'There's no choice' he thought. 'If I don't do something, I'm going to die!' Using his only remaining option, he opened the hatch and stepped into the open, holding his hands up in surrender. Now all her could do was wait
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Dearka watched nervously as several small vehicles approached from the Legged ship. He waited until they had stopped not far from the Buster before lowering himself to the ground with the wire. Within a few seconds of touching down the EAF soldiers were upon him. He stood quietly as they pulled his arms behind his back and checked him for weaponry, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.
Dearka did his best to remain calm, although he was on the verge of trembling. 'Now what?' he thought desperately. He swallowed and took a deep breath to clear his head. 'Cut it out,' he berated himself. 'This is not the time for a nercous breakdown.'
The EAF soldiers were talking about what to do, and he tuned them back in. "We'll come back for it," one was saying. "Once the ship is mobilized. For now, just get him back to the Archangel."
'Archangel? Is that what they call the Legged ship?' Dearka felt a sudden jab in his back and snapped out of his thoughts. "Move it," the soldier behind him said. Two, one on either side, led him towards one of the vehicles and into the back seat. He felt his head start to spin as the vehicle returned to the ship. He glanced up as they arrived at the ramp. 'It sure looks a lot bigger from here.'
"What's wrong?" the soldier on his left asked with mock-sympathy. "Are you afraid?"
"Hmph," Dearka huffed moodily, some of his attitude returning to him momentarily. "It's not like I've ever done this before," he snapped back. The soldier looked disapprovingly at his tone, and opened his mouth to say something more.
"Leave him be," the soldier on his right said before the other had a chance to retort. Both soldiers, as well as Dearka, remained quiet as the car was driven up the ramp into the ship. He was helped out of the vehicle once it was parked. The hatch was still open, and he could see outside. A sudden huge explosion shook the entire ship and caused all eyes to turn to where a huge fire now burned in the distance. It was unmistakable. Someone had been destroyed.
The EAF soldiers instantly jumped into a frenzy of shouts and motion.
"What was that?"
"Hurry up and get the buster loaded on!"
"We've lost contact with the Strike!"
"There's no signal from Tolle either!"
During the sudden rush of activity, Dearka's presence was partly forgotten. He simply stared at the explosion in the distance. He was too stunned to even bother thinking of escape. 'Who was it?' he thought desperately. 'We already lost Nicol...'
In his surprise and fear for his comrades, he barely noticed the gentle hands on his shoulders. Drowning out all of the noise, he had only the explosion on his mind. 'The Strike...it wasn't Yzak fighting it.' He was gently being turned away, and the hatch was being closed now, blocking his view of the fire. "Athrun..?" Dearka muttered out loud, still to numb to pay attention to anything else.
Finally the doors were fully closed and he could feel the ship moving as it took off again. Sound once again returned, flooding over his mind like a wave as he was snapped back to reality. For the first time it registered that someone was there, and he turned to look at the face of the soldier holding his arms. A taller man with brown hair and dark blue eyes.
"Come on," he repeated gently. "This way." Dearka, too dizzy to resists and too exhausted to care, went with the soldier through a door and into a corridor. The man, seeming to sense Dearka's dizziness, kept a hand on each shoulder to keep him steady as they walked.
Walls were white, floors were white, doors were white. The lack of color was the first thing he noticed. Coming toward them from down the hall were two EAF soldiers. Both parties stopped when they'd reached each other.
"This him Allen?" the taller of the other two asked.
"Yes," replied the brown-haired, blue-eyed man. "This is the Buster's pilot." Dearka glared at the two soldiers.
We've been ordered to take him into holding for now," he said, looking down at the Zaft pilot thoughtfully. "Quite young for a pilot, isn't he?"
"He can't be much older than Yamato," Allen replied with a shrug. They're coordinators, remember?"
"Right...I guess..."
Dearka shifted uneasily, unintentionally bringing their minds back to their task. He was handed off to the other two soldiers, and Allen turned to go back the way they'd come. "Just make sure he gets looked over by a medic," he called back. "Especially his shoulder."
Ahh yes, the dull throbbing of his shoulder blade seemed to intensify as he was reminded of it. "Hey, lets go," the second soldier jabbed at him with his gun. With a sigh, Dearka did as they asked and kept walking.
He stumbled several times; a combination of his bonds and fatigue throwing him off balance. Unlike his former 'assistant' however, neither of the two soldiers bothered to help him.
It seemed like a maze of hallways before he was finally led into a room. It was empty, save for a bench-like bed and a curtained toilet. The first soldier stayed behind Dearka with his gun while the other cut loose his bonds and handed him a bundle of clothing.
"Change into those," ordered the gunman. "You have two minutes." The two men retreated and the door slid shut behind them. Dearka stared after them for a few seconds before moving.
Setting the clothes down on the bench, he shook his head to clear it. "Right..." he mumbled, doing as he was told and unzipping his uniform. As he pulled off the top half of his suit he realized that his left shoulder-blade was sticky with blood. Unable to do anything about it at the moment, he finished changing into the white pants and sleeveless shirt.
The door opened again and the two soldiers re-entered. "You'll stay here for a while," said the first. He picked up Dearka's red uniform, and the two of them left.
Dearka recognized the beeping of an automated lock once the door had closed, and he moved over to the bench. Ignoring the dull throb of his shoulder, and the aching of his head, he sat with his back against the wall, pulled his knees up, and fell into a dreamless sleep.
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The soft sound of music drifted into the darkness, echoing with each soft beat of the Piano, stirring him from his hollow sleep. The sound was familiar; soothing. Slowly, the darkness began to drift away, releasing him and letting him rise into the light.
He could feel his body, the pain all-too real. He could smell a sweat fragrance, and hear the soft piano that had woken him much more clearly now.
Slowly, with effort, he opened his eyes. It was bright - too bright. The piano stopped, and still-blinded by the sunlight, he could only make out a silhouette standing above him.
"Hey," a girls voice said softly. "Are you feeling alright?" Slowly she came into focus. Long black hair and dark, gentle eyes. Her face was soft, her expression kind. For a few minutes, neither spoke. A hundred things were racing through his head, making everything spin.
"I...I'm alive," he said, hardly more than a whisper. She just smiled softly.
"My name is Ari," she said. "What's yours?"
He hesitated, his mind still reeling. He felt his precious energy leaving him, and darkness once again creeping forward. 'My name is Ari, what's yous?' The question echoed, and as he once again slipped into a deep sleep, he answered. "It's Nicol."
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- END -
Thanks for the reviews, and sorry I took a while to upload this chapter. I've been busy. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, please R&R!
Many thanks from,
Mistress of Darkness