Back to typing, now that I've finished up with various urgent pressing matters, like saving
the galaxy from the Ur-Quan and counting the number of leaves on my spider plants.
Disclaimer: Well, they were important tasks to the author.
Rise of the Silver Stars
Chapter 19: Convergence
The view from the bridge was excellent. The sunset was just far enough to their right that it was out of his eyes, though the pilot was either squinting or trying to hide behind the small visor. Of course, he wasn't completely out of the glare- the highly polished gun barrels managed to each have their own set of double bright spots shining in. The light wasn't all bad- the topey colors of orange and red it bathed the landscape in were impressive to behold, and had managed to keep his mind off his increasingly irate guests.
Well, only one was really being irate. Rai-dei was the very model of politeness and calm, though he was very aloof and for some reason the guy always gave him a feeling of dismissal. It was as if the man could hardly stand being around other people. Something had made him that way, though it wasn't his place to pry- a good third or more of his regiment had some tragic tale in their past, and it was the unspoken rule that nobody asked until they felt like starting themselves. If he wanted to talk, he'd do so, and until then they'd just have to tough it out.
That had never stopped rumors from springing up among the newer recruits. The rumors never got too far, thanks to The Hand. It was the one skill the old commander had that could wipe out rumors almost before they formed. The breeding ground was always the mess tent- the combination of time, food, and bootleg drinks led to the perfect place for wild stories to get kicked off. It would usually start with one greenie getting soused, then blurting out what they through about something or someone. Then the booze took over, and would make them say just about anything to keep from being proven wrong. This would be when The Hand came into the picture. The blurter would feel an iron grip on their left shoulder that would remain for just a second before turning them around. Trying to resist it did no good- The Hand would not be denied. Then they'd come face to face with the old Thompson, who would be giving them such a glare that sobriety would come instantly. Then he'd ask in an even tone one simple question- "Sounds interesting, but what proof do you have?"
And that was how the rumors got squashed before they could even start. There was never a repeat offender after having felt The Hand once, at least as far as he knew. He had certainly never opened his mouth again to spout off nonsense after his experience with The Hand. It was hugely beneficial to the regiment, where most everyone had secrets of some sort coming in. And speaking of coming in, if it wasn't the old Thompson himself.
"Hey little buddy."
"That hardly makes sense anymore. I'm eye to eye with you now, and I technically outrank you to boot."
"Yeah, but you know how it works."
His turn to crack a grin. "Yep, that I do. Between you, your little sister, and your 'little little' sister, I know when you can't move a mountain."
They had a good laugh at that. "So, what brings you up here? The view's good, but not that good, and you get to enjoy it all night anyway."
"I was just wondering when you'd be introducing your guests to the crew. They're getting anxious to meet her."
He froze for a moment, then relaxed. "How do you always figure these things out, anyway?"
"Family secret!"
"It was in a letter, wasn't it?"
The Thompson clapped him on the back. "See? I told you that you had a good head on those shoulders!"
"When you want to know what's going on in the world, ask a Thompson." He shrugged and shook his head, then spoke up. "Okay, who here already knows who my guest is?"
Hands shot up around the room, though he only had to watch the communications officer to know that everyone on the ship knew by now. He should have expected it, really- when it came to investigations, nobody beat out their radiohead. He also knew that their radiohead liked to talk in her sleep, and thus kept everyone up to date on the latest classified transmissions. However, that only made two good sources for the guest's identity. After feeling The Hand, everyone made sure they had at least three before talking about it, so what was the third source this time? Meryl hadn't left the room as far as he knew, and unless someone was crawling through the vents... Yeah. Eyewitness report from Private Gunter.
"So, family letter, the radiohead, and Private Gunter?"
"Good try! Almost right too- it was a family letter, Private Gunter, and Private Friez."
"Benson? How'd he find out?"
"Well, she didn't just fly in. She came in through his checkpoint to dodge the sweep, and he confided in me."
He chuckled, again shaking his head. "One of these days, I'd like to be the one to announce important news to the regiment. You all hear that?"
A set of thumbs up emerged from the personnel seated around the room, though that meant the other hands had crossed fingers. At any rate, this would help greatly with his irate guest- being cooped up had Meryl about ready to rip off the bulkheads. Since his relief was here, might as well pop on down and give her the good news.
¤ ¤ ¤
Being cooped up had her ready to start ripping off the bulkheads, and if any sections of the ship collapsed, well, too bad for those sections. The only notable difference between her current tiny metal room and her last tiny metal room was that this one had a window and an attached bathroom. Otherwise, they were identical, right down to the number of rivets in the ceiling. Okay, and the smells of cooking food instead of cement. And the occasional company. She threw up her hands and went back to pacing. Without any illness, she was back to being bored. It was almost worse than being sick.
They had been traveling nonstop ever since they departed from December two days ago. It had taken them over a week to finally get out, as all travel had been suspended while the search for her was ongoing. They had to call it quits eventually, since keeping a major city under lockdown for a long time simply wasn't an option. People needed the supplies being made in the city, and the city needed raw materials brought in from the outside. The first day of actual travel had pretty good views of four or five other steamers and their entourages all moving out. They needed to move to make up lost time, and by sticking together with a Cavalry steamer they were able to take shortcuts through some very wild areas. Not that she knew of anyone who was foolish enough to try and take on multiple steamers. Just one was able to plow right through nearly anything, and she had counted two Humpbacks and three Orcas, and that didn't include whatever it was that she was in.
At this time, it was just them and an Orca, and it looked to be pulling in front to make a dash for lost time. Soon, it would be nothing but dunes, rocks, more dunes, more rocks, and for a change of pace some dunes on rocks. The only thing she wanted to see right now on rocks was maybe some whiskey. Anything else would leave her bored. Thankfully, a knock at the door signaled company was here to provide her a respite. At this point, even Rai-dei would be good, anyone else would be a bonus.
The door opened to reveal a bonus. Julius looked happier than a Thomas in a grain silo, and it threatened to suck away her moodiness. Then he opened his mouth. "Good news! Seems that everyone found out you're aboard, so I guess you can come out."
"They found out? How?"
"A letter to the old commander and two privates saw you in the area. Isn't that right Private Gunter?"
He had shouted that last bit towards the ceiling and back wall. A reply filtered down from the air vent set in the top corner, though it sounded rather distant. "Right sir!"
"You have people...in the vents...?"
"Well, yeah, but it's just Private Gunter. Nobody quite knows why, but he seems to like the air vents for traveling around the ship."
She looked back and forth between the vent and Julius. She decided on a course of action and shoved a chair over so she could get at the vent. She stuck her head in, but couldn't see the Peeping Tom anywhere. "Well, if I ever catch you looking in again, I'm turning that eye black!"
Another response came up from somewhere in the darkness, still sounding rather far off. "Right ma'am! Sorry ma'am!"
She dropped back down to a view of Julius holding back laughter. Men in the vents, a commander with a funny bone bigger than his backbone, and a Thompson- this place would be paradise for Vash. He could be Captain Screwball of the Nutso Company. A thought struck her. "You wouldn't happen to have a Captain Screwball or a Nutso Company, would you?"
"Not anymore. Nutso Company was lost some thirty years ago, and Captain Lance 'Screwball' Marlin was a founding member of the regiment nearly ninety years ago."
He had said that with a perfectly straight face. "Really?"
"Really."
"And I can go out now without anyone shooting me?"
"Yes."
"Objects still fall down when dropped?"
"I'm fairly sure of it."
Okay, so reality hadn't taken a complete leave of absence. That meant she could finally get out and walk around. "So... Where to?"
"Well, I guess you can go pretty much anywhere onboard, though the dinner crowd should be stampeding in any moment. We'll have to run to get the good food before-"
The rest of whatever he said was lost. The idea was sold to her at the mention of 'dinner' and 'good food,' the latter of which she hadn't had in days. She grabbed Julius and strode down the corridor, letting her nose lead the way. Just as they reached a twisting stairwell that already had a good number of people coming on down, it struck her how Vash-like she was acting. "Chased by the law, letting our stomachs make decisions for us, trouble comes looking..." An image of her in red with spiky hair flashed through her mind. "Ugh... Not going to happen."
Her thoughts were interrupted as someone coming down surprised her with a hand on the shoulder. Looking up, the first thing she saw was a bunch of stubble that framed a glowing, all too familiar smile. It broke to form words. "Welcome aboard, and thanks for looking after my little little sister for so long."
She grinned right back at him. "I think it was the other way around... I could never remember all the names, which one are you?"
He brought up his other hand. "Roy Thompson. Meryl Stryfe, right? Pleasure to meet you!"
Her own hand got pumped a few times, then the three of them set out down the stairs. She got a number of looks, and a few that lingered, but nobody was whispering. Best of all, there was no anger, pity, or fear being directed towards her. The dominant look was quizzical, with a few looking about ready to step up and ask her what was on their minds. However, food came first, and the smells were getting stronger. The flow into the double doors ahead just confirmed what her nose was informing her.
When they entered, everyone looked up and a few saluted... Julius. Her own attention was minimal, aside from the occasional look. The noise level was almost enough to make her ears pop after spending so much time in the fairly quiet room upstairs. Row after row of long tables filled the room, and soldier after soldier was seated before the tables, digging into their platters with gusto. A wave finally attracted her attention to a specific table, where Moore and Rai-dei were seated. The former was waving her over, and the latter was a chiseled frown that stared down into his food. She took the invitation and worked her way over, with Julius right behind, though Roy had broken off towards the kitchen with a shout that he was getting the grub. Julius hopped up on the table and took a stance, holding up his arms. The commotion died down shortly as all eyes were directed his way.
"All right people, I have an announcement to make-"
A rather high pitched and annoying voice broke in. "We already know she's here!"
Julius grimaced, but continued like there hadn't been any interruption. "Meryl Stryfe, or as you may have heard her called, 'Derringer' Meryl, skipped town with us. Any complaints?"
The room was silent aside from a few sounds of chewing. There was an expectant look among a number of the troops as Julius beckoned her up, then a question floated over. "Ever killed anyone?"
"Wha? No!"
No sooner than she said it than a few soldiers lit up with grins while a few others cursed, looked down at their food, or got out billfolds. Money changed hands around the room, and it suddenly hit her as to what had happened. "You made bets on whether or not I killed anyone?!"
"Yeah, and you cost me twenty double dollars!"
"Made me forty double dollars!"
She turned to Julius, but he just shrugged and hopped back down. Then the first annoying voice from before called out again and made things worse. "Do a striptease!"
Laughter erupted as her cheeks burned, and a few comments on trying to rig the bet came out as the noise level picked up to where it had been. She climbed back down too as Roy reappeared with three well-stocked platters balanced in his arms. Moore leaned over to her ear. "Sorry about that, we've been trying to figure out who that is but he's been around since before we joined. Even the old commander has no idea who it is."
Well, if they had eluded a Thompson, they had to be damned good. No satisfactory punitive action for her, even though the recent events had her mellowed she was still ready to dispense a good throttling. The bite to her dignity itched less, not that she had much remaining after all that happened. However, what little was left was still hers, so while the rest of the regiment was shoveling in the food it was left to her, Rai-dei, and Roy to be the island of civility. As she ate, savoring every bite of real, freshly cooked food, she noticed that even though she was dressed in a loaned uniform she still looked more like a soldier than a good half of the room.
"With friends like this, I don't need enemies..."
On the upside, at least she wasn't likely to be bored for quite some time.
¤ ¤ ¤
"This is your pilot speaking. We'll be arriving shortly, so everyone place your tray tables in the full upright position and secure all loose items. This includes painting supplies. Yeah, that means you."
The announcement cut off, with the final echoes dying down from the access hatch behind her. She shook her head and smiled. The past few days reminded her of the old times with Vash, back before she knew of things like plants, angel arms, and evil twins. As she tightened her grip on the railing she let the wind ruffle her hair. It was very peaceful to look over the scenery as it passed by, and that made turning to the bow all the harder because what was ahead was far from peaceful, and they were just going to stir things up more.
Eventually she forced her eyes to turn and start sizing up the situation. Ugh. Her smile inverted as she took in the new view. Inepril was bursting with activity, and none of it looked conductive to anyone's well-being. There appeared to be thousands of bounty hunters of every type overflowing the city. If this kept up, Inepril might just become the eighth great city... Assuming no disasters carved it into a crater. At least the Cavalry wouldn't be after Vash. Julius already had a rough report on the Typhoon's escape from their pursuit ten days hence. Of course, Vash excelled at making mincemeat of any plan, even one that would work for him.
Ten days... That long to somehow locate Vash in the huge mess ahead. To make matters worse, she had to keep a low profile lest any of the bounty hunters try for her head instead. At least she had a change in appearance before setting out- though it wasn't her normal style, the cavalry uniform had a good benefit of being the only thing most of her potential troubles would see. One glance and the majority would quietly slip around the corner- it wasn't uncommon for the bounty hunters to be the hunted in certain towns, and the Cavalry was supposed to be on the lookout for everyone wanted anywhere, impossible though it may be.
Of course, she had the advantage of knowing just who she was going after. However, touring the bars was a bit off for a lone soldier and their crazy pajama clad entourage, so she had made some backup plans. Vash may be nearly impossible to locate by sight or by interest, but there was more than one way to find him. After all, her line of work required immaculate attention to detail, so she'd simply... She shook her head as her frown deepened. It wasn't really her line of work anymore. She was as good as fired, so money would be a problem. She was nearly unemployable now, and settling down was practically out of the question... She mentally slapped herself. "One step at a time... Find Vash first, then ask the expert on outlaw life."
A few hours later she disembarked with a group of real soldiers, and slipped into the crowds.
¤ ¤ ¤
At the moment, the "expert outlaw" was in a tad bit of trouble. Namely, it was a squad of bounty hunters that were well-informed, well-numbered, and well-armed. He had already had a number of close calls and ambushes as he darted through a residential area they had obviously scoped out for this very purpose. He didn't even have backup- Milly had rushed off to the post office to get her letters mailed, Knives had taken up his habitual brooding in a room and certainly wouldn't be the kind of help he needed now, and as for the gunsmith... Well, Frank had been hit in the initial barrage. He was too busy dodging all the projectiles to intervene, and now he was on a mad dash that brought back memories of the last time he had been in the city. He was eventually chased full circle, and it hurt to see the gunsmith like that...
That was when the bounty hunters struck from all sides. Even with his skills, there was simply no dodging this onslaught. Round after round hit him, his body jerking with each impact, and then they were all over him. His peppered body crumpled to the ground, and almost countless hands clamped onto his limbs. One of the attackers jumped up and pumped their gun in the air in celebration.
"We got Vash the Stampede!"
A laugh came over from the nearby porch where the initial ambush had taken place. How could he be so cruel?
"Yeah, it looks like they got Vash the Stampede all right. I can see the headlines now- '$$60,000,000,000 Bounty taken down in Inepril!', 'Vash the Stampede falls!', 'Doughnut Memorial Planned for Downed Outlaw'."
Frank took another bite of the doughnut he held and made an exaggerated "Mmmm..." while picking off suction darts with the other. The downed outlaw winced as one of the kids piled on top of him started to twist his leg, so he began to drag himself over to the small plate of doughnuts before the gunsmith could finish them off. However, the kids had other ideas and he made little progress while Frank continued to slowly reduce the supply of ambrosia with holes. Finally, his attackers decided that they'd had enough bounty hunting for the moment, giving him the chance to dart foreward and snatch away the final treat. He was about to sink his teeth into the delectable item when a loud clomping interrupted his imminent chomping.
Milly came running down the narrow street full tilt, hair streaming behind her. He knew she liked to just zip off at times, but it would only be for short bursts- this time she had been at it for a good while as he could see the redness and sweat. She skidded to a halt in front of him, wheezing heavily. Something was wrong here, very wrong... "What is it big girl?"
"Mr... Mr..."
"Yeah, I'm Mr. Vash. Skip to the next part."
She was too winded to try words again, so she simply handed him a sheet of paper she had crumpled while running. Frank brought down a chair that she practically fell into, making it creak dangerously under the weight. He focused on the sheet to see what was so urgent that Milly had to run halfway across the city. In the next second his doughnut, that he had worked so very hard to get at, fell to the ground- forgotten.
¤ ¤ ¤
"I don't see why we should bother."
"Knives..."
"It's only a human, I'm sure you can find others. I can see several right outside- do you want another female, or would any do?"
"Knives... Shut. Up."
That got Knives to stop. He had expected it from him, but the words stung more than he expected them to. This wasn't some pet sand lizard or something, this was Meryl. A wonderful, unique individual who had shared in his life far more than anyone else had. You can't just replace something like that! Why had he even bothered to invite his brother in for this, anyway?
It was simple, really. Knives was good with plans, and if he ever needed a good plan this was the time. The object of all this contention laid upon the table's corner. It was a simple item, and he had seen so many over his travels that he couldn't even hazard a guess as to the number. However, this was only the second time seeing one had caused such shock. The paper was flimsy and poor quality, with a blank streak in a neat line running down it where the printer had an ink stoppage. The contents were still quite clear regardless.
WANTED
"Derringer" Meryl Stryfe
Last seen breaking out of the December Courthouse
Associates:
Vash the Stampede
Wanted for:
Genocide, Murder, Class 'E' Property Damage, numerous small crimes
EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
Reward: $$1,000,000,000
That much had left him horrified, but it was the pictures below that made his heart ache. Her face looked so slack and lifeless for one moment he had thought her dead. However, bounties weren't put out on the dead, so that meant she was still with the living. Unfortunately, a bounty this big would have the hunters scrambling, and unlike his wanted poster this one had a face for them to look for. He had to find her, but where could he start? She could be practically anywhere on the entire planet... no. Only the 10% or so of it where the ships had crashed, outside that area there were no plants and thus no method for survival. That still left her alone somewhere. Was she hurt? Cold? Hungry? Scared?
"Woah there!"
He jumped at the voice, then noticed that his gun arm was acting up and had deployed the concealed weapon. He forced himself to calm down, if he really lost it things wouldn't end well for anyone.
"Well, if you're that intent on finding her, we need more information on where she might be. I doubt she would still be in the city of December, so a list of departed sand steamers would provide possible locations. Also, that 'Insurance Society' she was part of may have some information."
Did that just come out of Knives' mouth? Evidently so, as Milly jumped up and almost hugged his brother. "That's a great idea Mr. Knives! I think they've reopened the branch office, so I'll run down and check right away!"
No sooner had she said that than she was gone. Frank volunteered to go check out the steamer schedules, and that left him alone with Knives. Even though his thoughts were in turmoil, a few stayed near the surface that he could actually get answers for now. "...Why, Knives? It's not like you to care..."
"I still don't care about any of the spiders. I do care about you, brother, and seeing you suffer so is something I can't stand."
Knives cared about him and didn't want him to suffer? "What the hell is that?! I thought you wanted me to suffer! And I have suffered! Do you have any idea how much pain and misery Legato and the Gung-ho Guns put me through?!"
"It wasn't supposed to happen that way! You wouldn't have suffered at all, if you had only learned what they had to teach! If only you would stop caring about those malignant creatures, all the pain would go away..."
Knives' voice broke, and tears- real tears!- streaked his face. His brother managed to croak out a few more words. "I just want us to be brothers again..."
Now his own anger crumbled as his eyes spilled over. He got up and went around to Knives' side of the table, his legs unsteady. He barely managed to tug a chair along so he could sit next to Knives, who was now sniffling. He reached around and embraced him. In a mere whisper, he said "I'd like that."
He felt his brother's arms clutch at him. Not a sound made it into the room save a few sniffles. Not an item moved, saved for their shoulders that would occasionally shake from soundless sobbing. They could forget humanity for now, and be brothers, real brothers. Even if just for a few precious minutes.
¤stumbles off an amusement park ride, leans over nearest trashcan and tosses his cookies¤ Whew, remind me not to ride the Emotional Rollercoaster anymore, I can hardly stand that sort of up and down.
Legato: My master has what he desires... I am filled with nothing but joy.
Wolfwood: Joy?! He had your face blown in just to try and make a point!
Legato: It was worth it for my master.
Quiet, both of you, or I'll toss some Lemon Pecan Sandies at you. And I know that getting you two around lemons never results in anything good.
Reviewer Responses
betsytheripper: Wolfwood got some attention at long last, and the only miniature I have is of a mounted warrior, though he's missing the horse- the pose makes me think he needs to eat more bran muffins.
cjflutterbye: And now, a whole bunch of stuff happens. No reunions, but they've been primed, and Knives shows a sensitive side. Hate to honk my own horn, but it feels like I rolled a critical ;)
coffeetin: The hair gel was for me- there is no known force that can convince an anime character to admit to using hair gel, up to and including the destruction of a universe filled with nothing but cute kittens.
Sorian: Yeah, though the store was mysteriously burned down... Oh well, he got enough money for the gel.
SapphireWhiteTigress: Evil is to write poorly but churn it out- REAL Evil is to write well then take your sweet time updating.
MidgetMinion: Thank you, thank you. Expect to have a few more chapters of that nature in the future, though from what I have planned they're really too short- more like interludes, and will be called as such. It's why I bothered to echo the chapter numbers in the individual titles.
kitsune: ¤squeaks¤ My ribs... And of course I missed you! (Mustn't feel the punch, mustn't feel the punch...) To ward off the fishmongers, I have created a little blue box that will appear above you whenever you resemble an eel that will spell out "Leviathan". Hopefully they'll run off to avoid taking massive damage. And with a talent like that, I think you could be a good recordkeeper- heaven knows Julius could use a hand keeping that desk under control. As for Sara, she's stayed behind- Meryl's still in good hands with Roy. The Hand is to be feared and respected.
Disclaimer: Well, they were important tasks to the author.
Chapter 19: Convergence
The view from the bridge was excellent. The sunset was just far enough to their right that it was out of his eyes, though the pilot was either squinting or trying to hide behind the small visor. Of course, he wasn't completely out of the glare- the highly polished gun barrels managed to each have their own set of double bright spots shining in. The light wasn't all bad- the topey colors of orange and red it bathed the landscape in were impressive to behold, and had managed to keep his mind off his increasingly irate guests.
Well, only one was really being irate. Rai-dei was the very model of politeness and calm, though he was very aloof and for some reason the guy always gave him a feeling of dismissal. It was as if the man could hardly stand being around other people. Something had made him that way, though it wasn't his place to pry- a good third or more of his regiment had some tragic tale in their past, and it was the unspoken rule that nobody asked until they felt like starting themselves. If he wanted to talk, he'd do so, and until then they'd just have to tough it out.
That had never stopped rumors from springing up among the newer recruits. The rumors never got too far, thanks to The Hand. It was the one skill the old commander had that could wipe out rumors almost before they formed. The breeding ground was always the mess tent- the combination of time, food, and bootleg drinks led to the perfect place for wild stories to get kicked off. It would usually start with one greenie getting soused, then blurting out what they through about something or someone. Then the booze took over, and would make them say just about anything to keep from being proven wrong. This would be when The Hand came into the picture. The blurter would feel an iron grip on their left shoulder that would remain for just a second before turning them around. Trying to resist it did no good- The Hand would not be denied. Then they'd come face to face with the old Thompson, who would be giving them such a glare that sobriety would come instantly. Then he'd ask in an even tone one simple question- "Sounds interesting, but what proof do you have?"
And that was how the rumors got squashed before they could even start. There was never a repeat offender after having felt The Hand once, at least as far as he knew. He had certainly never opened his mouth again to spout off nonsense after his experience with The Hand. It was hugely beneficial to the regiment, where most everyone had secrets of some sort coming in. And speaking of coming in, if it wasn't the old Thompson himself.
"Hey little buddy."
"That hardly makes sense anymore. I'm eye to eye with you now, and I technically outrank you to boot."
"Yeah, but you know how it works."
His turn to crack a grin. "Yep, that I do. Between you, your little sister, and your 'little little' sister, I know when you can't move a mountain."
They had a good laugh at that. "So, what brings you up here? The view's good, but not that good, and you get to enjoy it all night anyway."
"I was just wondering when you'd be introducing your guests to the crew. They're getting anxious to meet her."
He froze for a moment, then relaxed. "How do you always figure these things out, anyway?"
"Family secret!"
"It was in a letter, wasn't it?"
The Thompson clapped him on the back. "See? I told you that you had a good head on those shoulders!"
"When you want to know what's going on in the world, ask a Thompson." He shrugged and shook his head, then spoke up. "Okay, who here already knows who my guest is?"
Hands shot up around the room, though he only had to watch the communications officer to know that everyone on the ship knew by now. He should have expected it, really- when it came to investigations, nobody beat out their radiohead. He also knew that their radiohead liked to talk in her sleep, and thus kept everyone up to date on the latest classified transmissions. However, that only made two good sources for the guest's identity. After feeling The Hand, everyone made sure they had at least three before talking about it, so what was the third source this time? Meryl hadn't left the room as far as he knew, and unless someone was crawling through the vents... Yeah. Eyewitness report from Private Gunter.
"So, family letter, the radiohead, and Private Gunter?"
"Good try! Almost right too- it was a family letter, Private Gunter, and Private Friez."
"Benson? How'd he find out?"
"Well, she didn't just fly in. She came in through his checkpoint to dodge the sweep, and he confided in me."
He chuckled, again shaking his head. "One of these days, I'd like to be the one to announce important news to the regiment. You all hear that?"
A set of thumbs up emerged from the personnel seated around the room, though that meant the other hands had crossed fingers. At any rate, this would help greatly with his irate guest- being cooped up had Meryl about ready to rip off the bulkheads. Since his relief was here, might as well pop on down and give her the good news.
Being cooped up had her ready to start ripping off the bulkheads, and if any sections of the ship collapsed, well, too bad for those sections. The only notable difference between her current tiny metal room and her last tiny metal room was that this one had a window and an attached bathroom. Otherwise, they were identical, right down to the number of rivets in the ceiling. Okay, and the smells of cooking food instead of cement. And the occasional company. She threw up her hands and went back to pacing. Without any illness, she was back to being bored. It was almost worse than being sick.
They had been traveling nonstop ever since they departed from December two days ago. It had taken them over a week to finally get out, as all travel had been suspended while the search for her was ongoing. They had to call it quits eventually, since keeping a major city under lockdown for a long time simply wasn't an option. People needed the supplies being made in the city, and the city needed raw materials brought in from the outside. The first day of actual travel had pretty good views of four or five other steamers and their entourages all moving out. They needed to move to make up lost time, and by sticking together with a Cavalry steamer they were able to take shortcuts through some very wild areas. Not that she knew of anyone who was foolish enough to try and take on multiple steamers. Just one was able to plow right through nearly anything, and she had counted two Humpbacks and three Orcas, and that didn't include whatever it was that she was in.
At this time, it was just them and an Orca, and it looked to be pulling in front to make a dash for lost time. Soon, it would be nothing but dunes, rocks, more dunes, more rocks, and for a change of pace some dunes on rocks. The only thing she wanted to see right now on rocks was maybe some whiskey. Anything else would leave her bored. Thankfully, a knock at the door signaled company was here to provide her a respite. At this point, even Rai-dei would be good, anyone else would be a bonus.
The door opened to reveal a bonus. Julius looked happier than a Thomas in a grain silo, and it threatened to suck away her moodiness. Then he opened his mouth. "Good news! Seems that everyone found out you're aboard, so I guess you can come out."
"They found out? How?"
"A letter to the old commander and two privates saw you in the area. Isn't that right Private Gunter?"
He had shouted that last bit towards the ceiling and back wall. A reply filtered down from the air vent set in the top corner, though it sounded rather distant. "Right sir!"
"You have people...in the vents...?"
"Well, yeah, but it's just Private Gunter. Nobody quite knows why, but he seems to like the air vents for traveling around the ship."
She looked back and forth between the vent and Julius. She decided on a course of action and shoved a chair over so she could get at the vent. She stuck her head in, but couldn't see the Peeping Tom anywhere. "Well, if I ever catch you looking in again, I'm turning that eye black!"
Another response came up from somewhere in the darkness, still sounding rather far off. "Right ma'am! Sorry ma'am!"
She dropped back down to a view of Julius holding back laughter. Men in the vents, a commander with a funny bone bigger than his backbone, and a Thompson- this place would be paradise for Vash. He could be Captain Screwball of the Nutso Company. A thought struck her. "You wouldn't happen to have a Captain Screwball or a Nutso Company, would you?"
"Not anymore. Nutso Company was lost some thirty years ago, and Captain Lance 'Screwball' Marlin was a founding member of the regiment nearly ninety years ago."
He had said that with a perfectly straight face. "Really?"
"Really."
"And I can go out now without anyone shooting me?"
"Yes."
"Objects still fall down when dropped?"
"I'm fairly sure of it."
Okay, so reality hadn't taken a complete leave of absence. That meant she could finally get out and walk around. "So... Where to?"
"Well, I guess you can go pretty much anywhere onboard, though the dinner crowd should be stampeding in any moment. We'll have to run to get the good food before-"
The rest of whatever he said was lost. The idea was sold to her at the mention of 'dinner' and 'good food,' the latter of which she hadn't had in days. She grabbed Julius and strode down the corridor, letting her nose lead the way. Just as they reached a twisting stairwell that already had a good number of people coming on down, it struck her how Vash-like she was acting. "Chased by the law, letting our stomachs make decisions for us, trouble comes looking..." An image of her in red with spiky hair flashed through her mind. "Ugh... Not going to happen."
Her thoughts were interrupted as someone coming down surprised her with a hand on the shoulder. Looking up, the first thing she saw was a bunch of stubble that framed a glowing, all too familiar smile. It broke to form words. "Welcome aboard, and thanks for looking after my little little sister for so long."
She grinned right back at him. "I think it was the other way around... I could never remember all the names, which one are you?"
He brought up his other hand. "Roy Thompson. Meryl Stryfe, right? Pleasure to meet you!"
Her own hand got pumped a few times, then the three of them set out down the stairs. She got a number of looks, and a few that lingered, but nobody was whispering. Best of all, there was no anger, pity, or fear being directed towards her. The dominant look was quizzical, with a few looking about ready to step up and ask her what was on their minds. However, food came first, and the smells were getting stronger. The flow into the double doors ahead just confirmed what her nose was informing her.
When they entered, everyone looked up and a few saluted... Julius. Her own attention was minimal, aside from the occasional look. The noise level was almost enough to make her ears pop after spending so much time in the fairly quiet room upstairs. Row after row of long tables filled the room, and soldier after soldier was seated before the tables, digging into their platters with gusto. A wave finally attracted her attention to a specific table, where Moore and Rai-dei were seated. The former was waving her over, and the latter was a chiseled frown that stared down into his food. She took the invitation and worked her way over, with Julius right behind, though Roy had broken off towards the kitchen with a shout that he was getting the grub. Julius hopped up on the table and took a stance, holding up his arms. The commotion died down shortly as all eyes were directed his way.
"All right people, I have an announcement to make-"
A rather high pitched and annoying voice broke in. "We already know she's here!"
Julius grimaced, but continued like there hadn't been any interruption. "Meryl Stryfe, or as you may have heard her called, 'Derringer' Meryl, skipped town with us. Any complaints?"
The room was silent aside from a few sounds of chewing. There was an expectant look among a number of the troops as Julius beckoned her up, then a question floated over. "Ever killed anyone?"
"Wha? No!"
No sooner than she said it than a few soldiers lit up with grins while a few others cursed, looked down at their food, or got out billfolds. Money changed hands around the room, and it suddenly hit her as to what had happened. "You made bets on whether or not I killed anyone?!"
"Yeah, and you cost me twenty double dollars!"
"Made me forty double dollars!"
She turned to Julius, but he just shrugged and hopped back down. Then the first annoying voice from before called out again and made things worse. "Do a striptease!"
Laughter erupted as her cheeks burned, and a few comments on trying to rig the bet came out as the noise level picked up to where it had been. She climbed back down too as Roy reappeared with three well-stocked platters balanced in his arms. Moore leaned over to her ear. "Sorry about that, we've been trying to figure out who that is but he's been around since before we joined. Even the old commander has no idea who it is."
Well, if they had eluded a Thompson, they had to be damned good. No satisfactory punitive action for her, even though the recent events had her mellowed she was still ready to dispense a good throttling. The bite to her dignity itched less, not that she had much remaining after all that happened. However, what little was left was still hers, so while the rest of the regiment was shoveling in the food it was left to her, Rai-dei, and Roy to be the island of civility. As she ate, savoring every bite of real, freshly cooked food, she noticed that even though she was dressed in a loaned uniform she still looked more like a soldier than a good half of the room.
"With friends like this, I don't need enemies..."
On the upside, at least she wasn't likely to be bored for quite some time.
"This is your pilot speaking. We'll be arriving shortly, so everyone place your tray tables in the full upright position and secure all loose items. This includes painting supplies. Yeah, that means you."
The announcement cut off, with the final echoes dying down from the access hatch behind her. She shook her head and smiled. The past few days reminded her of the old times with Vash, back before she knew of things like plants, angel arms, and evil twins. As she tightened her grip on the railing she let the wind ruffle her hair. It was very peaceful to look over the scenery as it passed by, and that made turning to the bow all the harder because what was ahead was far from peaceful, and they were just going to stir things up more.
Eventually she forced her eyes to turn and start sizing up the situation. Ugh. Her smile inverted as she took in the new view. Inepril was bursting with activity, and none of it looked conductive to anyone's well-being. There appeared to be thousands of bounty hunters of every type overflowing the city. If this kept up, Inepril might just become the eighth great city... Assuming no disasters carved it into a crater. At least the Cavalry wouldn't be after Vash. Julius already had a rough report on the Typhoon's escape from their pursuit ten days hence. Of course, Vash excelled at making mincemeat of any plan, even one that would work for him.
Ten days... That long to somehow locate Vash in the huge mess ahead. To make matters worse, she had to keep a low profile lest any of the bounty hunters try for her head instead. At least she had a change in appearance before setting out- though it wasn't her normal style, the cavalry uniform had a good benefit of being the only thing most of her potential troubles would see. One glance and the majority would quietly slip around the corner- it wasn't uncommon for the bounty hunters to be the hunted in certain towns, and the Cavalry was supposed to be on the lookout for everyone wanted anywhere, impossible though it may be.
Of course, she had the advantage of knowing just who she was going after. However, touring the bars was a bit off for a lone soldier and their crazy pajama clad entourage, so she had made some backup plans. Vash may be nearly impossible to locate by sight or by interest, but there was more than one way to find him. After all, her line of work required immaculate attention to detail, so she'd simply... She shook her head as her frown deepened. It wasn't really her line of work anymore. She was as good as fired, so money would be a problem. She was nearly unemployable now, and settling down was practically out of the question... She mentally slapped herself. "One step at a time... Find Vash first, then ask the expert on outlaw life."
A few hours later she disembarked with a group of real soldiers, and slipped into the crowds.
At the moment, the "expert outlaw" was in a tad bit of trouble. Namely, it was a squad of bounty hunters that were well-informed, well-numbered, and well-armed. He had already had a number of close calls and ambushes as he darted through a residential area they had obviously scoped out for this very purpose. He didn't even have backup- Milly had rushed off to the post office to get her letters mailed, Knives had taken up his habitual brooding in a room and certainly wouldn't be the kind of help he needed now, and as for the gunsmith... Well, Frank had been hit in the initial barrage. He was too busy dodging all the projectiles to intervene, and now he was on a mad dash that brought back memories of the last time he had been in the city. He was eventually chased full circle, and it hurt to see the gunsmith like that...
That was when the bounty hunters struck from all sides. Even with his skills, there was simply no dodging this onslaught. Round after round hit him, his body jerking with each impact, and then they were all over him. His peppered body crumpled to the ground, and almost countless hands clamped onto his limbs. One of the attackers jumped up and pumped their gun in the air in celebration.
"We got Vash the Stampede!"
A laugh came over from the nearby porch where the initial ambush had taken place. How could he be so cruel?
"Yeah, it looks like they got Vash the Stampede all right. I can see the headlines now- '$$60,000,000,000 Bounty taken down in Inepril!', 'Vash the Stampede falls!', 'Doughnut Memorial Planned for Downed Outlaw'."
Frank took another bite of the doughnut he held and made an exaggerated "Mmmm..." while picking off suction darts with the other. The downed outlaw winced as one of the kids piled on top of him started to twist his leg, so he began to drag himself over to the small plate of doughnuts before the gunsmith could finish them off. However, the kids had other ideas and he made little progress while Frank continued to slowly reduce the supply of ambrosia with holes. Finally, his attackers decided that they'd had enough bounty hunting for the moment, giving him the chance to dart foreward and snatch away the final treat. He was about to sink his teeth into the delectable item when a loud clomping interrupted his imminent chomping.
Milly came running down the narrow street full tilt, hair streaming behind her. He knew she liked to just zip off at times, but it would only be for short bursts- this time she had been at it for a good while as he could see the redness and sweat. She skidded to a halt in front of him, wheezing heavily. Something was wrong here, very wrong... "What is it big girl?"
"Mr... Mr..."
"Yeah, I'm Mr. Vash. Skip to the next part."
She was too winded to try words again, so she simply handed him a sheet of paper she had crumpled while running. Frank brought down a chair that she practically fell into, making it creak dangerously under the weight. He focused on the sheet to see what was so urgent that Milly had to run halfway across the city. In the next second his doughnut, that he had worked so very hard to get at, fell to the ground- forgotten.
"I don't see why we should bother."
"Knives..."
"It's only a human, I'm sure you can find others. I can see several right outside- do you want another female, or would any do?"
"Knives... Shut. Up."
That got Knives to stop. He had expected it from him, but the words stung more than he expected them to. This wasn't some pet sand lizard or something, this was Meryl. A wonderful, unique individual who had shared in his life far more than anyone else had. You can't just replace something like that! Why had he even bothered to invite his brother in for this, anyway?
It was simple, really. Knives was good with plans, and if he ever needed a good plan this was the time. The object of all this contention laid upon the table's corner. It was a simple item, and he had seen so many over his travels that he couldn't even hazard a guess as to the number. However, this was only the second time seeing one had caused such shock. The paper was flimsy and poor quality, with a blank streak in a neat line running down it where the printer had an ink stoppage. The contents were still quite clear regardless.
"Derringer" Meryl Stryfe
Last seen breaking out of the December Courthouse
Associates:
Vash the Stampede
Wanted for:
Genocide, Murder, Class 'E' Property Damage, numerous small crimes
EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
Reward: $$1,000,000,000
That much had left him horrified, but it was the pictures below that made his heart ache. Her face looked so slack and lifeless for one moment he had thought her dead. However, bounties weren't put out on the dead, so that meant she was still with the living. Unfortunately, a bounty this big would have the hunters scrambling, and unlike his wanted poster this one had a face for them to look for. He had to find her, but where could he start? She could be practically anywhere on the entire planet... no. Only the 10% or so of it where the ships had crashed, outside that area there were no plants and thus no method for survival. That still left her alone somewhere. Was she hurt? Cold? Hungry? Scared?
"Woah there!"
He jumped at the voice, then noticed that his gun arm was acting up and had deployed the concealed weapon. He forced himself to calm down, if he really lost it things wouldn't end well for anyone.
"Well, if you're that intent on finding her, we need more information on where she might be. I doubt she would still be in the city of December, so a list of departed sand steamers would provide possible locations. Also, that 'Insurance Society' she was part of may have some information."
Did that just come out of Knives' mouth? Evidently so, as Milly jumped up and almost hugged his brother. "That's a great idea Mr. Knives! I think they've reopened the branch office, so I'll run down and check right away!"
No sooner had she said that than she was gone. Frank volunteered to go check out the steamer schedules, and that left him alone with Knives. Even though his thoughts were in turmoil, a few stayed near the surface that he could actually get answers for now. "...Why, Knives? It's not like you to care..."
"I still don't care about any of the spiders. I do care about you, brother, and seeing you suffer so is something I can't stand."
Knives cared about him and didn't want him to suffer? "What the hell is that?! I thought you wanted me to suffer! And I have suffered! Do you have any idea how much pain and misery Legato and the Gung-ho Guns put me through?!"
"It wasn't supposed to happen that way! You wouldn't have suffered at all, if you had only learned what they had to teach! If only you would stop caring about those malignant creatures, all the pain would go away..."
Knives' voice broke, and tears- real tears!- streaked his face. His brother managed to croak out a few more words. "I just want us to be brothers again..."
Now his own anger crumbled as his eyes spilled over. He got up and went around to Knives' side of the table, his legs unsteady. He barely managed to tug a chair along so he could sit next to Knives, who was now sniffling. He reached around and embraced him. In a mere whisper, he said "I'd like that."
He felt his brother's arms clutch at him. Not a sound made it into the room save a few sniffles. Not an item moved, saved for their shoulders that would occasionally shake from soundless sobbing. They could forget humanity for now, and be brothers, real brothers. Even if just for a few precious minutes.
¤stumbles off an amusement park ride, leans over nearest trashcan and tosses his cookies¤ Whew, remind me not to ride the Emotional Rollercoaster anymore, I can hardly stand that sort of up and down.
Legato: My master has what he desires... I am filled with nothing but joy.
Wolfwood: Joy?! He had your face blown in just to try and make a point!
Legato: It was worth it for my master.
Quiet, both of you, or I'll toss some Lemon Pecan Sandies at you. And I know that getting you two around lemons never results in anything good.
betsytheripper: Wolfwood got some attention at long last, and the only miniature I have is of a mounted warrior, though he's missing the horse- the pose makes me think he needs to eat more bran muffins.
cjflutterbye: And now, a whole bunch of stuff happens. No reunions, but they've been primed, and Knives shows a sensitive side. Hate to honk my own horn, but it feels like I rolled a critical ;)
coffeetin: The hair gel was for me- there is no known force that can convince an anime character to admit to using hair gel, up to and including the destruction of a universe filled with nothing but cute kittens.
Sorian: Yeah, though the store was mysteriously burned down... Oh well, he got enough money for the gel.
SapphireWhiteTigress: Evil is to write poorly but churn it out- REAL Evil is to write well then take your sweet time updating.
MidgetMinion: Thank you, thank you. Expect to have a few more chapters of that nature in the future, though from what I have planned they're really too short- more like interludes, and will be called as such. It's why I bothered to echo the chapter numbers in the individual titles.
kitsune: ¤squeaks¤ My ribs... And of course I missed you! (Mustn't feel the punch, mustn't feel the punch...) To ward off the fishmongers, I have created a little blue box that will appear above you whenever you resemble an eel that will spell out "Leviathan". Hopefully they'll run off to avoid taking massive damage. And with a talent like that, I think you could be a good recordkeeper- heaven knows Julius could use a hand keeping that desk under control. As for Sara, she's stayed behind- Meryl's still in good hands with Roy. The Hand is to be feared and respected.