Another chapter...
Dearka writhed wildly against his bonds, screaming curses and spitting at the Archangel crew. He was tired of being a prisoner, and tired of being looked at. How was he supposed to bear the whispers when they passed him, and quell the idle frustration of feeling powerless. "Tighten those bonds!" The blonde man shouted. It had taken several of them to drag him down and wrestle him back into the cell. At the moment he was cornered and fighting the metal bonds. One click from above told him that all his struggles were in vain. The coordinator stopped abruptly, his gaze sliding up to stare down the barrel of the blonde man's gun. "You will help us." The man stated coldly. At the jerk of his head, the doors slid open and two more EA soldiers shuffled in- someone hanging limply between them.
Dearka's eyes snapped open. He suddenly lurched forward against his bonds. The blonde soldier jerked back in what could have been fear or surprise. Dearka fell forward with an ungraceful 'oomph', not having noticed that the bonds on his hands had been attached to those on his ankles. One of the soldiers nudged the prisoner that they held between them, causing his head to loll to the side slightly. Dearka had known who it was before they offered him a candid look. "Nicol!" He coughed in anguish. There was blood staining the front of his tunic, which was identical to Dearka's and probably every prisoner held by the EA. Despite what might have passed while 'safe' with the Creuset Team, they were all they had on this damn ship. Dearka clenched his teeth, biting back the angry curses that wouldn't do anything but worsen their situation. "What did you do to him…" He stated quietly. The blonde man lowered his gun till it was again level to Dearka's forehead. "We had to restrain him. It was a last resort. And now that I have your attention, I have a proposition for you."
Nicol moaned lightly, his body clenching in a short spasm. "Take him back to the infirmary. And make sure he is appropriately restrained this time!" The man waved away Nicol's entourage. After they shuffled out of the brig, the blonde man slid his gun back into the holster. "Listen kid, I've got a job I need you to do. If you don't do it- your friend there is in a lot of trouble." Either the stress was getting to him, or it sounded like the man actually sounded a little remorseful. "We really don't want to have to hurt him any more than we already have... and if you go along with us, we'll see that he is properly fixed up." Dearka tossed his head, feeling his old self start to return. "And who are you exactly. I don't answer to random naturals, you know." The man's mouth twitched. "The name's Mu La Flaga. And yours, kid?"
"It's Dearka, and don't call me a kid." He huffed arrogantly. "Well then. We need you to pilot the Buster-" Mu noticed the coordinator's sudden expression of glee- and squashed it. "But if you value your friend's life, you will use it only to retrieve a fallen mobile suit for us." Dearka pouted and Mwu continued. "It is in a place where the only way to get it, would be to get the Buster to carry it back to the Archangel. We would do it, but seeing as how you screwed with the OS…" Dearka cracked a wide grin. "None of you naturals can pilot it."
The natural grinned sheepishly, "pretty much."
La Flaga undid the bonds on Dearka's ankles and led him from the brig at gunpoint. "Be sure and behave now." He reminded as Murdoch soon joined them. "Ready to go back to the beach Murdoch?" aforementioned mechanic just looked at Mu and scowled. "How about I pour sand down your pants and see how you like it."
"Just pick it up and head back to the Archangel… and don't think about running off!" Mu shouted up at the Buster. The mobile suit leaned forward, carefully wrapping its arms around the other suit. As the day had progressed, the tides had once again begun to rise. Earlier in the day would have been preferable, but Dearka had insisted on making sure that they were indeed taking care of Nicol. After that, they had treated him to a meager lunch and then they had set out.
Caiohme sat up. Was it her imagination… or did the Seraph just move? Moving hurt, so she had spent the night... or what she assumed was the night… staring at the emergency lights and wincing with each breath. Apparently the straps that had held her in place for the impact kept her from crashing into anything, but still put a lot of force on her body all the same. Dark bruises traced along where the safety-straps had clung to her nearly emaciated, fatigued body. She rubbed her cheek and looked around. There it was again… a little tremor that shook the sides of the mobile suit. Like something was being pushed against either side. Was someone out there? Caiohme nearly screamed when the Seraph was jostled and she was thrown against the bar that wrapped around the platform. Everything stopped. Caiohme cracked an eye open and glanced around. Was it over? Almost to answer her question, the mobile suit began to sway back and forth slightly. Like it was being carried. "I give up…" Caiohme cried in exasperation, letting the mobile suit take her to another unknown place.
With the new suit in tow, the Buster landed back inside the mobile suit deck on the Archangel without incident… except that Murdoch had poured sand down Mu's pants as promised.
The Seraph was set up near the edge of the mobile suit deck incase something happened and they needed to discard it for some reason. Another foreign addition to the Archangel.
Dearka leaned against the foot of the Buster, eyeing the strange suit. "Wonder if anyone is inside it…" he muttered to himself. "Hey kid!" Mu called, waving at him from the scaffolding that had been raised across the Seraph's midsection. "Can you come on up here for a moment?"
Dearka shrugged and pushed off his, or what used to be his suit. He thrust his hands into the pockets of the off-white pants he had been given to wear. Maybe if he played along for a while they'd let them go sooner. But having to be nice to the enemy… that would take some serious effort on his part.
On the scaffolding, Mu and Murdoch peered over Dearka's shoulder as he popped a control panel open; switching wires around and typing in various code. "We learned this kind of stuff back a the academy. Seriously… how do you guys manage?" Oh crap… he winced. So much for being nice.
The two naturals exchanged glances. "We manage fine. Now… do you have it open-" "yup." Dearka stood up as something inside the mobile suit clicked and pinged. Two metal cockpit doors receded to the side with a metallic grinding where sand had seeped into the gears. "What the hell?" Mwu gaped. It was a small space. No chair, just a platform with screens around it. Something- or someone groaned from within. Dearka was the first to take step inside, drawn by sheer curiosity. Mwu and Murdoch watched warily from the opening. "He-hello?" his voice wavered when something shifted on the other side of the platform, a shadow pressed against the floor. He stepped around the railing. Ducking around the screens that were suspended around the space. Dearka narrowed his eyes and kneeled down next to the collapsed mass. He sucked in a quick breath. "Shit. Hey guys, there's someone in here!"
Several people were gathered around another infirmary cot. The medic on duty looked over at Mu, "So… she was inside that mobile suit?" They had each been repeating the same question, even though no one could really answer it. "Has to be the pilot" Mu answered intelligently. "She has a flight suit on."
"ZAFT wouldn't honestly send in someone this young…" The medic let his argument die as they both glanced over at Nicol in the next cot. "Right." He turned away and went back to his computer- where he had been before Mu burst in with his new patient. "I'll monitor them both and inform you of any changed Lieutenant La Flaga." The medic stated over his shoulder rather crossly. "Sure thing." Mu grinned sheepishly and turned to leave the infirmary. Not before stealing a last glance at the teenagers lying unconscious on identical cots. "Things sure are going to change around here." Once out in the hall, he shook his pant leg. "I'll never get all the sand out of there" he moaned to himself.