"Quit yer staring, let's go." Bianca said slightly, nudging Darton out of his gaze from Troy in the dead of night. Stars lit the sky in a display of dazzling simplicity, sparkling alone and to themselves, distanced and seperated by great amounts of nothing, yet they worked together in a soundless symphony to the deaf eyes of onlookers. The truck sat in front of the two large gates of Troy, rumbling in the front cabin, the two men sitting in the front controlling it looking ragged, tired and exhausted, sweat beading on their faces and staring eyes looking forward past the wall to things unknown, in a slight daze. Driving a MT was tough, since you had to put all of your body into doing it, to turn, or keep the pedals down to power it, to hold the wheel straight, from not veering off and going in every which direction, it wasn't easy. Both of the men had a similar set of controls, both linked on a Gear box so if they both moved together, it wouldn't be as hard, but it was still plenty difficult, as the men showed, but driving a MT had benefits, as their muscled bodies showed.

A low creak, audible even over the roar of the MT cracked through the mass of people. It wasn't exactly loud, and it was rather silent under the roar, but the sound seemed to fill their ears and rebound inside, being loud only to their ears, nothing around and in front of them being loud from the door, but that inaudible screech that brings chills to the ears of those hearing it. The two massive doors, split down the middle of the front of Troy. One line showed that they existed, the rest of the doors hidden and matching the walls. The walls slowly slid open, the crack growing in its darkness, like a void of nothing, a hell sucking them in, the sides slowly arcing outward, the black growing, until finally, the backward thick edges cleared, and fragments of the inside of Troy met their eyes, like a slit of an eye looking back, opening more every second. There was a mark in the grass, where the dirt was, no plants growing in the perfect arc, spreading out in both directions from the line. The doors slowly seemed to follow these curves like clock work, clods of mud being caught up and flung side, roots of plants ripped up by the massive doors. Each door was the height of Troy, each going about halfway towards the edge from the middle, splitting the difference.

The walkways up top were separated, and slowly removed from one another as the doors opened, people scurrying to unattach the railings and planks before they snapped from the mechanized doors. They must have done this every time anyone entered or left Troy, thought Quint, taking in every sight, smell, sound he could. The families and people finally emptied off of the MT, carrying their goods, ranging from a small box of items to large, ten foot pieces of wood, a very valuable thing in these times. They all waited around the doors, not walking in.

"What are we waiting for?" he whispered to Bianca, who simply hushed him. He stood agitated, shifting his weight, then saw. The MT crawled forward, the thundering engine waking those in the city who might not have been, though a crowd could be seen inside. The truck finally turned inside, and stopped on the side of the door, parallel with the walls, then the people walked in.

Slow, tedious steps, all in fashion, people walking in a line. After they officially set foot in Troy, they broke from the line of people, about four or five in a single line, and went to their houses, or waiting arms. There was a crowd on the ground floor of Troy, arms extended to hug oncoming family and friends to welcome them home. Others cut through the crowd, holding their valuables, and left into the night to where ever they needed to be.

The sight Quint saw only furthered his amazement at Troy. Since Troy's walls were built over fifty years ago, they were never moved, the city staying in the confines of its old skeleton, as far as the base goes. But, the city sky rocketed upward, buildings built on the first floor of Troy, under a shadow of those above. Buildings were built on top of old ones, the changes in their architecture noticeable, sprouting out of another building, a building being held up by two others, no touching point in the ground, a network and maze in the sky between the buildings and city of Troy above, the below sections older and covered in constant shadow. The buildings glimmered with unnatural light, a few specks of gold, and most of it reflecting and being lit up from the night sky moon, an unparalleled beauty it seemed to give to all it shone on, raining silver onto those fortunate enough to cup the treasure dropped from the moon. Walkways of people above looking down met Quint as he walked in, walkways between buildings in the sky, small rims on the walls and stair sets, people all over, just watching the returning of the few brave enough to leave Troy to the outside world. Most of Troy was there, as they were for every returning convoy, and to sleep through the opening and closing of doors, as well as MT, would be nearly impossible.

"Wow..." Darton mumbled, his head arched upward as he walked in, looking at all of the faces, staring back at him. "This is amazing" he whispered to himself, Bianca next to him realizing.

"Yeah, I always think so too when I come back" she whispered back, walking in slowly to Troy. "Follow me" she said, gaining his attention, then jumping into the crowd of people. Darton followed behind her, pushing people out of the way as best he could, a few people bumping and pushing him, his left shoulder not fairing well out of the ordeal, wincing and heaving in breath by the time he found his way out of the hundreds of people circled around the entrance. The streets were empty, now that they were past the huge bulk of onlookers to the entrance of people from the MT, which sat now parallel to the wall, directly next to the doors.

The streets were old and used, the gravel and cobblestone worn down to a smooth rut in the road from its jagged spear out of the ground years past. Sidewalks and streets no longer mattered, paced over by thousands of feet, the city worn down on the lowest levels. Quint could even see it himself, the people on the floor of Troy living under the shadow of the Troy above, reaching skyward, the buildings dilapidated and worn down, the ones built on the ashes of the old looking more youthful, mixed with cement and metal, like skin dripping from bone, slowly arching up from the decay on the bottom, each foot up looking more livid, until where his vision scattered at the tops, infants towering over the elderly underneath of them, treading upon the ground where the ancients from its past were buried.

"Hey, follow me" Bianca said, tugging on Darton's coat jacket lapel, looking back smiling.

"And where are we going?" he asked amused.

"Anywhere" she said, turning around, facing him, smiling deviously. "Whenever I get back from the outside world, back here to Troy, I feel free and alive, I want to go see it all again, relive what I have a hundred times, glad to be home, saying I'll never leave again, but in a month, I find myself stepping on that MT again, repeating itself all over again...know what I mean?" she asked, standing still in the middle of the old road, looking around at Troy around her, the mass of people a few hundred yards back.

"...No, I don't." he said, her close enough to hear his mumble.

"Why?" she asked, hesitantly, nodding a bit forward as she did, grabbing his attention as he looked away. "Tell me, Darton. You owe me from the truck."

"Well, you were kind of lying on me, I say that's payback enough." She tilted her head, giving him a look of seriousness and chiseled determination. "I never had a real home, that's why." he said, his tone as serious as her determination for answers. He tried walking around her and forward, but she stepped in front of him, stopping him. Her look gave him a bit of a chill, the icy coldness in it, a serious undertone he thought not possible from her humorous and jovial self he had learned about earlier.

"Tell me why. I got you in Troy."

"Why does it matter to you?" he leaned his head down, whispering it in front of her, his eyes transfixed on hers.

"I wanted to know, I wanted to find out...about you..." she said, looking off to the side, the centering her view at Darton again.

"Why?" he said, mocking her why before, serious and to the point, like a sharp edge thrust straight into her chest, knocking the wind out of her, unable to answer. She inhaled deeply, regaining herself, then tried to answer.

"Well...I...come on, I brought you to Neo-Troy, right? I expect something outta ya. You got some demons or something, especially to just leave the Seikishidan like that. I wanted to know them."

"You brought me here just to learn my past?"

"You're such a Doubting Thomas..." she muttered, turning and walking forward. She took a few steps forward, hearing Quint's behind her, the bustle and roar of people behind her, talking and screaming, already selling off items, talking to friends and family, as well as the group starting to dissipate, far-away echoes of footsteps in every direction, as well as people above on the higher levels of Troy starting to fan out, back home, as it was already pretty late anyway. Darton kept his pace behind her, head low in thought, her looking forward to where she was going, a bit perturbed at the turn of events. Come on, she's right, at least tell her something. You feel like you can't? You can, she's put trust in you so far, she brought you to Troy, she even goddamn rescued you from the Seikishidan, how would anyone else have even thought of doing that? Darton, you say you want to start a new life, don't let your old one hinder you...

"I never had a home because I lived in Berlin-4..." Quint said slowly, her attention piqued, walk slowing, and her turning. He took a few more steps forward until he was face-to-face with her, looking up a little to meet eyes with her, despite she was lower than him.

"The city is now Berlin-5, though..."

"Exactly." he said. Cities were numbered by the amount of times they had been destroyed and rebuilt. Berlin, 5 times, Dresden, 4 times, but Neo-Troy, never. Paris wasn't a city anymore, it was gone, off of the face of the map, but the ruins remained, and the countryside, the area, still called Paris, hence the Parisian Headquarters.

"I lived there when it happened, when Berlin-4 was burned to the ground, everyone killed, except a few to rebuild it, the city demolished. I was there." he said, smiling a little, memories running amok behind his eyes, unable to fully look at Bianca, her eyes looking into his, which were vapid and far away. "I remember that day, I want to forget it, I do, but I can't. I lived in a normal apartment type building, my family there too. Had a nice mom, strict dad, younger brother...we all lived in Berlin, it was nice. There wasn't much defense there, except for the Seikishidan response if attacked, but nothing like the walls of Troy. There was a Seikishidan base stationed a few miles outside of Berlin, but it was a small one, only about 300 soldiers, it was more of a outpost, a surveillance station than a base." Her eyes were transfixed on his, which seemed not to reflect her sense of looking. Her hair, down to her neck and in black strings, seemed to part from the way of her face, leaving her green eyes visible and very emerald, even in the silver moonlight. Darton's face, covered by the long brown hair in front of his face, covering down to his chin, blocked out his own brown eyes, but she could still see them underneath his hair, blinking not very often, glazed over, a rim of tears at the bottom.

"The Gears came...we were attacked. Berlin was destroyed, razed, completely leveled. It was disgusting, horrible. They said the Gear attack was small, only about three hundred, a small pack that ran across the plains from somewhere in Russia, avoided sentries, kept low, and just kept on coming. They had Berlin in their sights, I don't know why, there was nothing there, not too many people, maybe five thousand, at most, it was still kind of regenerating from Berlin-3 being destroyed about fifteen years earlier. I was nine...my brother six. When the Gears came, they came from the East, taking out the Seikishidan base with ease. They surprise attacked the place, killing most of the soldiers. And, in the process, gained some nice weaponry from the soldiers, a lot of standard-issue Seikishidan swords, which they used against us. We were more than defenseless, like sheep to the slaughter." he said, his breathing mellow and slow. Bianca was totally silent, the world seeming to swivel in upon both of them, the few people now walking by and the over-head clanks of footsteps on the metallic catwalks, echoing voices and life around settling into the veil of night not even being a question to the two.

"When they got into town, they came like a wave, killing basically whoever got in their way until they got to the end of the city, leaving none alive they could find. My father and mother didn't have a real job, they just liked to go around to other families, see how things were, help out where ever they could, a Samaritan kind of thing, you know? I remember one day, they brought in a kid they found, both arms broken, blood all over when they brought him to our apartment, fourth floor of the building we helped rebuild with our own hands, before my brother was born, he left stains in the floor we couldn't get out. Anyway, seems he had no family, some muggers weren't too happy about him not having much...he died later that day, blood loss. He wasn't much older than me. I never wanted to be weak, never wanted to be one to die, I'd fight for everything I had until the very end...never wanted to be that boy dying on someone else's floor because of damn mugger. My parents tried to save him, fed him, bandaged him up, he didn't eat, and only bled right through everything, until he finally died. We buried the kid, put a cross on the grave, and we had to give him a name, we didn't want an anonymous grave, so we just named him Newton, since my parents were going to either call me Quint or Newton, you know which one won." Quint's words seemed to flow out of him, nothing else in the world even mattering. Bianca smiled, slowly reaching up and brushing part of his hair back behind his ear to better look at him when he talked, Quint not even noticing, so deep in memory, his eyes glazed over and not realizing anything in front of him, nothing around him, just enveloped in his memories.

"Well, my parents were out doing their every day routine the day the Gears came. They were on the East side of town...among the first to be slaughtered by the Gears carrying Holy Order swords they pillaged from the dead they had offed earlier. They worked their way West, just killing. I was at home with my brother. We instantly knew Gears were in town by the screams. They traveled, the first dead I thought was my mother, I knew her voice, thought I heard her scream. I couldn't see out that far, but I just knew it, I could feel them, I knew that there were Gears coming. My brother and I cooped up in the apartment, we tried to hide, but there was no where...so I just sat in the corner, my brother behind me, no one would see him if I sat in front of him, basically being a shield. For the next hour, I just sat there, trembling. I could hear him breathing too, sobbing, for no reason, and I told him to shut up, where he held in himself, made sure not to even move, but I couldn't help myself. I heard the Gears below, grunting and growling, the two-voices they got, the ugly reality of it all. I heard them slashing, people dying, people screaming, splats of blood, I heard it all, I thought I could see it, even though I knew I could not. It was there...it was all on the streets, hearing people fleeing, then the steps of Gears, massive and burling coming to them, then the death." A small tear rolled down Darton's face, unaware that it was even there, continuing to talk.

"I don't know how one of them found us..me and my brother. Up in the small apartment, I heard it step up the stairs, the clank of the sword it held lazily in one hand smashing against each and every step as it walked. I prayed to God, don't let it come here, don't let it be coming up this apartment, don't let it stop at this door, don't let it come in, don't let it...but it did. I heard it stop in front of our door, pacing and breathing heavily, a deep growl and a whine at the same time, then it came in, ripping the door from its hinges, smashing to the ground a couple of feet back, splintering into two. It looked around, I held my breath, then it saw me, walking forward, the sword dragging across the ground in its right hand...it seemed to snicker, laugh a little, just a small mutter of sadism, I knew it was Justice, looking at me through the eyes. Then, it stabbed me, the sword dug through my chest...right here" he said, bringing his right hand up to the bottom of his ribcage, rubbing across the scar underneath, remembering it, the pain coming back to something that hadn't hurt in over a decade.

"I screamed, my brother screamed, and it took the sword out, I was frantic, unable to breath, and I jumped forward at the Gear. I tried punching it, but I did nothing, it just swiped me out of the way. I hit the wall, almost knocking me out. I saw it walk up to me, but I couldn't see that well, I was bleeding and almost knocked out. It was about to kill me, when something happened, I stood up, I don't know how, I can't even describe how I know I did it, it just happened. My body wasn't doing it, I was on strings, a puppet...it was happening. It tried stabbing again, and the sword went through the wall as I ducked, then I ran into it, knocking the big thing back, its hand removed from the grip of the sword. It took another swipe at me, but missed, its hand cutting through the wall, lodging itself into the wall. I punched it, I don't know how, but it was hard, my hand was bleeding, skin ripped back off my own hand, but I felt its bone break too. Then, I grabbed the sword out of the wall, and slashed at it, killing it. It died there in my apartment. Then, I dropped the sword, falling to my knees. My own blood fell where Newton's had, staining the floor once again. My body was weak, so weak, I wanted to die, I knew I was going to, I don't know how I even stood up and fought the Gear, but then I crawled over to my brother. He was still sitting where I had been in front of him...but his eyes were closed. I nudged him, I said to him it was okay, I killed it, it's alright, he didn't open his eyes...then I realized the stab wound on his chest, it was deep, and the blood was covering his shirt, dripping down to the ground in a small pool. The Gear had stabbed through me, and into him, it killed him, where it had aimed for me, it got both of us, but he died. He died where I should have..." Darton said, more tears finding their way down his face, eyes far off.

Bianca smiled slightly, bringing her hand up and rubbing the tears away. The gentle touch of her hand shot Darton back to reality, shocked at first, unable to see, his eyes watered up, feeling the hot tears on his cheeks, and her thumb rubbing them off, her hand holding his cheek in her palm, slowly rubbing one finger against him. He took a deep breath, looking down at her, her own eyes reflecting back at him the forest green they had, even at night. He smiled a little, then it overwhelmed him, the memories, the feelings he had tried to block out and put behind him, things that were not his to keep and hide, but that were of another life and another time, something behind him, and they stabbed at him now, his scar hurting again, and reminding him that they were his not someone else's, his memories, his life. He stumbled forward, unable to stand, and Bianca caught him, wrapping her arms around him. She was shorter than him, his stature at about six foot, her at five-foot-seven, but she held him there, gently hugging and embracing him. His head fell onto her shoulder, unable to hold itself up. Her arms found his back underneath his arms, holding him tightly, as not to fall, and for other reasons...

"He died where I should have..." Darton whispered again into her ear, where his head situated on her shoulder, unable to feel, unable to swallow, a lump in his throat and eyes burning with pain, memories becoming vivid and alive to him, springing from the vaults of memory to assault and attack him, but she was there to hold him, there to support him, awkwardly if that, but she was there...she was there.

Low clicks and clacks shot through the morning sky, soldiers walking around, snapping on their armor, praying, and doing what they needed before they boarded the MTs. It was fifteen before 0800, the soldiers not on call for another fifteen minutes, but still punctual, and doing what it was they needed to. Ky was ready at sunrise, as he always was, armor on under his Seikishidan Commander uniform. He slowly paced through the crowd of soldiers, all buzzing around and near the MTs. Both of his hands were clasped behind his back as he paced in the weaning morning The morning wasn't as amazing as it had been when he was lifted from the Seikishidan H.Q., every bit of the sky he took in, the clouds and the early sun, shooting itself over the sky and beyond, driving night from above. This morning, the sun seemed low, unwilling to rise, night counter attacking from its defeat previous, stars still lining the sky, and moon not yet at the horizon, veering to stay up as long as possible.

God...let that not be a sign to me. The emotions of the soldiers seemed to be on par with that of what the sky showed, an angst and fear running rampant, not willing to fight and live, their souls dampened and confined to what they should have been feeling. Even walking through the encampment of preparing soldiers, Ky could feel the low morale. Soldiers were busy at work, lifting their heads and nodding at Ky as he walked by, who only nodded back, their tiredness and doubt coupling for a mix that wasn't good, not for what was going to happen.

The soldiers were distributed armor, a special type that was only used in situations where the probability of survival was under 20, and in a situation like "Retake a city that is controlled by Gears", you have a pretty low survival rate. The U.N. predicted the mission success rate, of course, as well as probability of survivors, and they were even bringing in A.A.'s off the bat. Though, the mission had to be done, so they were willing to let this sort of thing happen, even if many would die, and Ky couldn't help but agree. If the Gears had Lyon, they had an apex, a place to build a base out of, gather troops, and would have a strong hold in the only really secure place left in the world, Western Europe. But, after the Tibetan mission, no one knew where Justice was, he could be at Lyon himself, but either way, Lyon was a strategic point where they could get to Paris, as they did, Dresden-4, Berlin-5, Great Britain, the Poland colonies, and Troy, but that wasn't a concern of the Seikishidan or U.N., due to their unallegiance and devolution from the rest of the world.

Ky wore his armor underneath his uniform, so that his rank could be seen, but the preparation took him an extra hour in the morning, which he compensated for by waking at dawn. Though, dawn seemed to have stretched out for over two hours now, night fighting to keep its stake on the sky and the sun fighting a battle it seemed half-assed to be in, night knowing loss would be inevitable, but did its damndest to fight.

The armor was kept in small containers, each container holding one-size-fits-all pieces for certain body parts. It was basically more pieces of the fiber-plastic gauntlet material. The gauntlet for the lower arm was a necessity for sword fighting, and Seikishidan outfit imperative, the rest of the armor fit like it. Two identical halves strapped together, for the most part. An upper arm two-piece, strapped together by two separate belts tightening them, same with upper leg and lower leg. The chest was a specially molded piece for the front, and a flatter piece for the back, supporting posture as well as protection, though the chest piece, which ran from the neck to the hips, wasn't as strong as its counterparts on the limbs, since it was more flexible and able to move in, since the hard, unforgiving armor everywhere else would make fighting hand-to-hand near impossible. Ky looked stockier and bigger wit the armor, though he didn't care, it was armor. The final piece was a helmet, one that was made of the same color-coded armor, green for private, orange for lieutenant, red for sergeant, blue for commander. There was a full one-hundred-and-eighty degree slat in the front, covered by a clear visor, and small holes for breathing and talking.

The soldiers knew putting on the armor meant one thing, that most of them would not be coming back alive. The armor, in the end, really didn't help, but it gave more of a psychological boost to the morale of the soldiers, as well as that in certain cases, it was useful, but armor was only donned in battles where death wasn't inevitable, but a certainty. They were suicidally attacking a city infested with equal or more Gears in it, though the Seikishidan couldn't send more soldiers, they hadn't the MTs for it.

The soldiers clicked their armor on, faces solemn and tired, as if they were waiting for death, eyes low, with that dull glaze Ky had seen in the eyes of the soldiers in the Seikishidan H.Q. raid. On his slow walk between the 554 soldiers, one such soldier was snapping on his lower-leg armor, looking up as he saw Ky stop in front of him. He smiled hesitantly, forcing it. Ky smiled back genuinely, a look of genuine understanding and compassion. Kiske put his hand on the soldier's shoulder, standing for a moment and looking at the soldier in the eyes, the lieutenant not hesitating to stare back. Ky nodded slightly, and continued walking.

Well, Kliff, I don't know what you would do. I don't, in a situation like this...we prepare to die. What would you do? Call off the mission, wait to attack? We can't...Lyon needs to be taken out, now. It is a threat, one day more and another wave of Gears could attack Bordeaux, Berlin-5, anywhere, this needs to be done. But, you served the Seikishidan for so long, lead it for so long also, how could you deal with the soldiers you'd see before the mission, then have to look at them the next day on the ground, dead? I can only give them hope, be a leader, be someone to look up to and put trust in...I don't know if you instinctively knew how, but I do my best for it, and my best to instill it. You had the certain aura, a friendliness, a something that made you think "It'll be alright" just from being near you...these soldiers, they know, they can feel that by next sunrise, they'll be dead. I dream of smoke through the trees, and the voices of those who stand lonely. It makes me wonder. But, I can only do my best. Your leadership was flawless, I can only hope to be like it...but now, after what has happened and what I have seen, just in the past few days, I can to myself say...I don't need to be like you and lead like you, I will do it how I intend, and you knew that, Kliff. You knew how I thought and lead would be the salvation of mankind, you knew...so maybe I shouldn't live in the shadow you had over these soldiers who I am just coming to know and command with authority that I feel privileged to have, not shaky or unsure of. I know, I must do things like this, I know I must lead those to death, for it is needed in this world, needed to save more lives, needed...you knew that, Kliff.

Kiske continued his walk between the rows of soldiers, gathered together in clumps, by friendship or rank, readying armor, doing their things before they got onto the MTs and headed off to fight. A group of soldiers to Ky's left were all sitting around silent, passing a cigarette around, each taking puffs off of it slowly, looking off, distanced. It would be their last, and they know it...they do it with such a reserved calmness and acceptance though. More soldiers passed in front and to the sides of him as he walked through, hands behind his back. He needed to be there, with his soldiers, to show he was like them, there in the way and in the battle for humanity, where he could die like them, he needed to show them.

Off to the corner of his eye, he saw the old man from the chapel who had been sleeping. A small circle of soldiers around him were all kneeling, heads in reverence, listening and praying as he read an excerpt from the Bible in his hands, the shrill words carrying over the crisp morning air. On the point of amen, even he whispered it to himself, as he heard other soldiers around him, not in the small circle near the reverend as well.

"Well sir, seems like we're ready." Jaygus said, standing up from his position sitting on the ground, talking with another soldier, the idle banter going to what it was like in Dresden-4, cutting off the conversation to talk to Ky, a friendly smile and a "We'll continue this later" murmured to the lieutenant before he stood.

"It would seem so." Ky said, turning, surveying the scene of soldiers around the gates of the base, the three MTs serving as an apex for their gathering. Ky cleared his throat, then took leadership.

"Soldiers of the Seikishidan, on your feet!" he said, a deep voice and a very authoritative sense in his voice. The soldiers stood up, some slow, some springing to perfect attention. "I'm going to tell you the truth" he said, slowly, pacing to his left, head down. "I...don't like this mission. I can feel it in my bones, this day will end with many dead, few survivors...hope will be lost..." he said, each word seeming to add an extra weight to the soldiers already frail sense of hope that was bending under the weight. "But, I feel something else..." the soldiers seemed to perk to life, the burden of previous words seeming somehow lightened. "I feel victory. Justice's Gears cannot stop us from taking back Troy, from saving the countless lives that them having Lyon could have caused in raids and attacks on other cities and towns. I feel that we will eradicate the threat, I know we will. We can't lose, because if we do, then we have nothing else to fight for, life itself is lost. But, we won't lose...I know it, and there's something much more important here, other people riding with us. The lives of the unborn, the lives of the families and lives that are defenseless, where we come in. How can those to rebuild our world live if we fail? They won't if we fail, but we won't, we will not, soldiers. I'm fighting here with you today, alongside, not as a superior, but as another man, another person raising fist and anger, a fight against Gears...and we will win, I know it. It may not be pretty, and many of you won;'t live for another sunrise, but you will have won, you will have done something so worthy with your life, even God Himself will have to say 'Look! There stood a man who had something great in his life, and died protecting it!'. God...I don't know if he is on our side today, I don't know whether He would be or not, but God or no God, we won't lose, and we can't, we'll win." he said, his words seeming to flow from him. Kliff, I know you'd want me to lead however best I could, not to be like you, but to be like me, to lead in the way I will and can. "File in, soldiers, we're going to Bordeaux." he murmured his last words, the soldiers all understanding and pacing to the sides and backs of the trucks, filling in the empty seats, the top seats by the drivers occupied by A.A.'s.

"Nice speech there, boy. I bet that even Justice would have loved to hear that poetic crap." a gruff voice shot out to Ky. The soldiers were all but in the A.A.'s, waiting for Ky to come in, and give signal to move out, to let the wheels roll and get out, but he stood firm in front of the soldiers, in front of the MTs while his speech was over, the soldiers going into the trucks behind him. And, Sol stayed too. He had been leaning behind Ky on a MT, smoking as usual. Some soldiers asked him for a cigarette earlier, and he gave on to them, with a bit of spite, but he figured the dumbasses would want one last puff before they got chopped.

"Shut up" Ky said with a malicious disdain. "Get in the trucks or stay." he said, taking his steps towards the nearest MT.

"Ooh, you got me scared now. What if I don't go?" Sol mused.

"Then I don't got to worry about getting stabbed by you or a Gear." Kiske responded before disappearing into a truck.

"Ha boy, I won't be killing you, not now, because as much as I hate your ass" he said, a low whisper in which he knew Ky couldn't hear "I got a special little place in my heart for that fucker, Justice." He took the last drag off of his cigarette, then tossed the butt into the closing hydraulic door, knowing it would bounce around, Ky seeing it. He took a few steps to his left, and jumped up on a hydraulic door that was lifting, and found a place among the soldiers, not wearing any armor or a Seikishidan uniform, his patented jeans-and-vest approach staying intact, even knowing more so than everyone there the threat of Gears.

The soldiers seemed to scoot away from Sol, even though they couldn't move seats in the confined spaces, but his own presence made them fear a little bit, adding to the thoughts that they might die by day's end. Before Sol could slap one of them upside the head, for whatever reason he deemed necessary to do so, a square of soldiers to his far right started talking in the silent MT, voice wise, as the engine squealed n a Gear-like scream, tires mashing into dirt with a thunderous boom, and each and every soldier silent, in thought.

For some reason, the four soldiers who were talking seemed oblivious to the day ahead, the battle, which Sol knew he felt the same way, but why did they? Immediately, one reached into their boot, and produced a heavily-worn and faded deck of cards, passing out them between the four, talking about the game and what to do.

Looks like we got ourselves a four pair of jokers. Idiots don't know what they're getting into, and they sure as hell don't want to know, but cards? What do they think they can do, gamble their way around life and death? Fucking amateurs.

Zeronova's Notes:
Wow. You'll notice how I continued this chapter with the night from the last chapter, but initially, it started with the Ky scene, and a scene in the morning of Troy with Quint waking up in Bianca's apartment, but the scene didn't feel right, there was something I had from the scene from the night of arriving at Troy I had to use...the welling of feeling had to come out, and the way it happened after I scrapped the scene and wrote this one, I think was beautiful, on par with KR2's type of amazing story-telling and emotion. ;) But, now we have a further evolution of Bianca/Darton, Darton's past (which kicks the ass of his past in the original DG), and preparing for Lyon. Oh yeah, this is Arc II, baby.