Desolate Gail: Redux

by Zeronova

The walls of Troy have been blasted open by Kiske, and Troy is as vulnerable as the Seikishidan, but personal conflicts still exist. End of Arc II. Updates periodically.

41. Arc 2: To the unwlecome fray

-X- Introduction -X-
- Desolate Gail: Redux
- Started on: 5-17-2004 / Posted on: 3-30-2005 / Checked on: Not Applicable
- By: Zeronova
- Chapter 41: To the unwelcome fray

- Text: Third person, Narration
- Text: First person, Thoughts
- Text: Interjection, the Narrator

X- End Introduction -X-

"How could this have happened?" a man screamed, his arms ripe with children like a tree in bloom with apples. He was sprinting out of his house, a wife in tow with equal amount of kids, there's and others, just grabbing people to save. Ky ran past the house and through and around all, to the disgust of the man who saw him as fleeing. "Get back here and help, you fucking kid!" The echoes chased Ky as he ran, but he was not fleeing.

Jumping over a pile of rubble, he had come around back, with a bit of a shortcut, to the Seikishidan encampment, where he set up his soldiers, but now he was at the back of the rows of tents. He started throwing each tent around, kicking it to awake and move the soldiers from drunken daze and deep slumber, yelling the calls of battle the entire time.

"Get up! Move! Get your sword! Gears! Now!"

"Sir, what's happening?" a familiar voice said as he turned to a tent behind him, Jaygus' head poking out with a ring of sleep under his eyes and his naturally-slicked back peppered hair in a frazzled and messy tangle over his face.

"Gears!" he screamed, turning to grab a stumbling soldier, put him on balance, and then threw him off balance again at the direction of the Gears, as he fell in a sleepy jog. Jaygus nodded, turning back into his tent, grabbing his sword, and then standing out next to Ky. He was still in uniform, and although it was a bit dirty and wrinkled, he was ready.

"Always ready?" Ky said with a slight smirk while catching his breath as the soldier were all awake and moving now.

"These situations are good reasons why."

"True. Let God shine his graces on us."

"We'll need them. Let it not be a repeat of the Krieg." Ky nodded in silent affirmation, drew his sword from its sheath where he had placed it while trying to rouse the soldiers to their awake state.

The Gears were rushing from the outside in a circle to the center, Testament having come first in front of the rest, the knot constricting now. The fire cast off a light orange glow that was hardly visible, but enough to silhouette the moves of people. And, the moves of Testament were shown with that silhouette, the graceful jump back and forth and poetic slash of his scythe and slashing down of fleeing humans and soldiers who dared to come up against him in a fight. He dashed back and forth, disappearing and reappearing in what seemed to be only the darkness, a slash here, knocking a soldier down, waiting for the next, stabbing through him and disposing of them like clock work.

Ky ran in with the surge of soldiers to the center, a group following him and the rest fanning out. Testament's chuckle floated on the wind, a light, yet piercing double laugh, a woman's voice like a seductive lullaby and then a deep, feral growl that could only be an animal's as he cut down each human, and their screams loud and abrasive.

Testament choked out a death squeal out of the last soldier before Ky arrived, stabbing the man with his scythe, then letting the scythe hang down, the soldier's chest impaled on it. He reached to the blade, blood dripping from the Seikishidan's mouth, slowly sliding off with his own weight, eyes clenched, then he died and fell off the edge lying flat on the ground with the stab wound facing skyward. Testament looked up to the next human he could slay, smiling slightly, the scythe coming up to meet his second hand and hold it tightly. A quick dash to his left and a jump to his right, and two soldiers fell of Ky's group that were running forward. The rest stopped in their tracks, looking at the enemy and tensing the battle, their swords wavering in their hands, forming a line, watching Testament. The Gear Commander slowly stood up, every movement of bone slipping into joint and standing erect like a sick display of gross anatomy until at full height, the red eyes turned to the pack of Seikishidan, helmed by Ky Kiske.

"Come, human. You wish to join your brethren on the ground?" One of them tried to run forward, stopped by Ky's hand, reaching out and grabbing his collar. Ky looked at him for a moment with a stone stare.

"Let him come, Kiske. I'll kill him before I get to you."

"Go get the civilians, and evacuate now to the East District." Ky said strongly, one eye stuck on Testament, his other at the soldiers around him. "Jaygus, lead them."

"Sir..."

"I'll meet up later, go." Jaygus nodded, yelling out an order and the soldiers dispersing, haphazardly. Ky looked back at Testament slowly, his brow low and his head held even lower, bringing his sword up to attack position.

"Foolish boy..." Testament chuckled before attacking. Ky didn't even see the attack or exactly how the attack was executed, a Gear was too fast, and Testament was deadlier than any, due to his ability to think. A shaky sword blocked the slash that came from the front, Kiske taking a step back and steadying his vibrating sword from the blow. He looked around, not seeing his enemy...he appeared and disappeared like a wraith, his speed and ghastly cackle teasing Ky to turn around to look for him, but exposing one's back was always bad.

"Can you hear that, Kiske?" the voice whispered from everywhere around him. He turned, looking around, his sword's tip looking for Gear flesh to stab, finding none as he swung around blindly, the blue flashes springing to fruition and then jumping back to blackness. "Those screams and cries of the dead and dying...those humans coming to their rightful deaths. They're my brothers lying yours down to death...isn't that right for it, brother of mine?"

"You're my enemy, not my brother."

"You'd be so wrong and so right...you know what I mean, human, do not try and deceive me."

"Of course...but that's not relevant now. And, you're a Gear, you're the enemy. You're a servant of Justice, you'd kill me as soon as you would our father."

"Our…how dare you use the word. Enough talk...there will be enough of it for you to do to your God once you die." The light breeze behind Ky made him turn, breathing in as he did and slashing in front of him blindly, the sound of metal echoing beyond the tramples of feet of Gears and humans. His weapon locked in the inside curve of the scythe, neither weapon able to move. Testament gripped his scythe, its worn wooden hilt five feet long and the scythe over three feet long but extending perpendicular to the wooden holding stick, its razor sharp edge dyed in blood, gritting against Ky's own weapons embrace, tingling with lightning and surging along the metallic surface, bits of the blood on his enemy's weapon sizzling off into the air, filling their noses with a copper like smell.

"Filthy humans...look at them run around you" Testament said in a low, seething voice, the shadows and silhouettes of people fleeing through the alleys and broken streets of Lyon. The Gear leaned forward over his interlock blade, taking a step forward and Ky one back, his face nearing Ky's, the burning red eyes seen under the veil of blackened ravenous hair. "Look at what your race is...rats, fleeing from the predator, not standing and fighting."

"There are those who fight for them," Ky grunted, pushing on his sword against Testament, but him holding his weapon. They both jostled slightly, trying to unhook their weapons from each other's, but not wanting to step back or remove a hand to punch the other, for that one moment could be an instant death.

"Disgusting..."

"You're not him, you're Justice. Speaking through your minions...I can see you, smell you in him. You're not who I called my brother years ago."

"Ha...I am still the same, but I am now able to see and know more, not confined to the idiocy of human standards." A sudden surge broke Testament's glazed and angry eyes, going wide for a moment, then returning to focusing on Ky's sapphire blues through the thick blonde hair matted on his face. While Testament had his blackened hair covering his face, Ky had his blonde, almost as if the colors of their hair covering their eyes that shone through the crinite mask, the hue giving the appearance of life versus death. The voice was mellower, calmer, but poisonous in words now, the angry and emotional Gear Commander in front of Ky mellowing to a blank and far away stare, but nonetheless the force on his interlocked weapon increasing. "What do you do this for, Kiske? For God or for them? For the running few who live only to further exist?"

"I fight for those who cannot do it themselves, I fight for humanity."

"There's no reason to fight" the voice said flat-lined, no emotion or tone, but another surge of movement from Testament forcing Kiske to haphazardly step back again, his foot slightly slipping on the body of a fallen comrade. His boot found dirt, but only felt the pressure push him back slightly again with Testament's forward walk, pebbles and soil caught up in the treads of his boot as he was forced backwards, weapon still tingling with electricity as it writhed in the curve of the scythe.

"They're the reason," Ky said, his head nodding down to the corpses littered around Testament in a concentric circle.

"For the dead?"

"Blessed are the dead and their memories."

"Ironic." Testament smirked.

"You once lied among them…you were mourned Tesu."

"Ha…I somehow doubt that, Kiske. If he had been mourned, you wouldn't be fighting my weapon now…" The voice droned, in third person, making obvious whom was truly speaking at this point, the sudden change in demeanor earlier now signaling to Ky what had happened.

"Justice…how dare you. You use this body for a puppet for what reason?" he said with a renewed anger, pushing on his blade and stepping forward forcefully enough to push Testament back a foot. "For what reason? Have Kliff fail…have me succeed him? Your plan all along?"

"Don't mock me, Kiske…I have my plans."

"You call yourself an 'I'? You're nothing but a creature, a Hellspawn!"

"Then strike me down, Holy Smiter…be as Michael was to God, be His sword to deal with those who have incurred His wrath, and send me to depths of Hell…I wait for you then, boy. Can you do what none other could? What Kliff couldn't even accomplish? I'll wait…and see." The glazed look in the eyes and monotone voice broke, Testament gasping slightly for air and the scythe weakening for a second; Ky now knew the grip of Justice was cancelled from Testament for a moment. He took the opportunity, stepping forward and kicking out Testament's knee.

The Gear fell to one knee from his knocked one, quickly rolling to the left to miss a blade that would have sliced upward through his chin, in turn slicing horizontally with his scythe to where Atlas' knees would have been, had he not rolled in turn. They both slowly stood from their rolls, facing each other, then walked, step for step, circling.

They each waited for the next step, and then bounded off as soon as their stepping foot touched, dashing at each other with weapons in slash. Their weapons contacted, then left as they both launched by, turning on their toes as they hit, and slashing again, weapons meeting in a clash of metal, electric bolts jumping across the conducive metal, a bit of the electricity reaching out its frail blue fingers of death and running up Testament's arm, skin curdling away to leave disgusting ash, no pain felt by the Gear and only smiling, breaking the weapon lock and stabbing at Kiske.

They parried volley after volley, neither successfully hitting flesh. They were relatively even matched, each clash of blade and bone making both grunt in fashion. Although Testament was stronger, being a Gear, Kiske had been right next to him for strength when their weapons locked or when their blades hit, he hadn't seemed in anyway deficient for his lack of muscle when compared to the Gear's enormous strength. It was possibly the moment, not wanting to fall behind to someone he had never fallen behind to, or just that there was too much raw emotion behind the duel that made his adrenaline, his body…feel alive, invigorated, and that his strength was limitless. That last sentence has a lot that could be looked into, but I'll wait to explain it.

Finally, they each crossed blades once more, the echoing clanks of the weapons sounding into the night, crawling through the caverns of buildings and around fleeing humans. The civilians ran in the background, Gears en route, swarming around and covering the city like a plague, stabbing anyone they could find and swatting down anyone foolish enough to get in their way, but none bothered Kiske or Testament…they were not permitted to, by Siren and Justice.

Both of the men, if you could call them that, stood over their weapons, slightly stooping, but only the human was breathing in hard. Kiske wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow, flinging his hand to his side, the drops splattering on the ground as he looked at Testament, who had no deep breath, no sweat…just a lifelessly pale complexion to offset the scythe tainted in permanent blood. His body convulsed, standing upright again, Kiske knowing exactly what it meant, Justice was taking hold of him, but he didn't strike in his moment…he instead waited, waited for what Justice would say.

"Go, young Undersn. Your ride might leave without you, and I don't want you to die here…" the voice said, flat and unwavering, both tones in the dual voice weaving in and out of each other without a single variation in pitch, tone, or any other measure of the aural spectrum. With that, Testament jumped backwards, the red eyes lingering in Kiske's memory as his enemy seemed to vanish into the darkness outside of the main campfire, melding in with the black like dust set upon a wind, vaporizing into nothing. And, the Gear Commander was gone.

Jaygus grabbed a few random civilians who were running around aimlessly, like chickens with their heads cut off. He knew it was hard to keep a straight head and focus in the face of Gears near loved ones…God knew that he had that feeling too many times, but he just wished they weren't so stupid. A man, holding two girls, couldn't have been older than five each, ran frantically. With one firm snap, Jaygus grabbed him by the collar, and turned the man to look him straight in his nearly gray eyes. He normally had his graying jet-black hair slicked back, but being as he was woken up in the middle of the night and then the skirmish, it was a wild mess all over his head, but the foolish look of his hair wouldn't offset the serious look in his eyes. He tossed the man behind him, the man faltering, then standing and running with the crying girls.

Jaygus and his crew of men, formerly led by Kiske, before he took his fight with Testament solo, had ran around the city as best they could. A few of the districts had been known to house a lot of people, and they had told the civilians not to branch out too much for this exact reason, if a Gear horde attacked, but that didn't stop some from claiming some more outward buildings for the space and comfort of having some privacy, which now looked to be their downfall. They had fought their way to the West District, then the North District, and had rounded up as many as they could, herding them to the East, where the MTs were stationed. They were usually up North so that they could make easy time to Geneva and any city lying north of them, such as Paris-3, Dresden-4, Bordeaux Base, and various others. For some reason, they parked on the East on the last shipment, maybe because it was a bit more solid than the mossy sewage entrance at the North.

Jaygus would basically be the rear flank guard for the civilians, him and his men creating a shield for them as they ran further into the darkness, fending off Gears left and right. He had lost three men already, but those accompanying him were fierce, extremely fierce for being woken up in the middle of the night, and two-thirds of them moderately drunk. He was sure if the U.N. ever questioned him about this, he'd try and be snide and say that the liquor actually helped some of the men fight better, but he filed the thought away quickly.

Slashing one Gear across the chest, he quickly turned and jumped over some rubble and through the side of a destroyed house, rounding the corner of the rubble, then turning back to face the Gears again, stabbing the Gear which he had just previously sliced, finishing it. Facing the Gears and moving backwards was an awkward procedure, attacking the Gears as they rushed forward and the Seikishidan moving backward, while still fending them off.

Finally, he got out of the clear of the city, feeling the rough and splintered cement change to weeds, filtering through the cement and vines growing over the outer extremities of the buildings on the outer edges, the hard ground turning to soft, sinking foliage. He could also hear more and more screams. He finished off his last Gear, seeing the others of the force spreading out over the edges of the city, exiting other holes than the one Jaygus' men stood in.

Turning around, he saw the three MTs. They had their pay loads open, people being stuffed inside, one soldier in the open back, being thrown up children whom he handed off to another soldier, and so they seemed to be hoisting materials quickly on board, said materials being live people, as those able to get on themselves did on the opposite side of the soldier.

Around each of the MTs was a large crowd of vying parents, screaming that their child should be next, or trying to force their way through to get on. It was almost sad…knowing these hundreds of people couldn't ever fit and yet they punch the man next to them, try to desperately get on board, only to fall off the stuffed end, or holding up their kid in hopes they could save their offspring, at the expense of their own lives.

All too familiar to Jaygus.

He saw other pockets of soldiers protecting the edges of the city, trying to buy time for the civilians and fellow soldiers. The white robes, despite many of the personnel not even having them on, flung back in their furious movements, stabbing, blocking, and trying to hold off the Gears anywhere they could so that the MTs could fill up and leave. Many of the soldiers were only half dressed, no shirt on, or just their long overcoat and nearly nothing else on, considering they were woken to battle in the middle of an alcohol-induced party stupor.

A.A.'s ran around as furiously, jumbling around syringes and pills to dying soldiers and civilians, yelling out for anesthetic or any other items. A few of them ran right into the fray of battle, grabbing a soldier that had just fallen due to wound of stab, and dragging him out by his collar futilely. Few of the A.A.'s pulled out their worthless twenty-eight-inch sword, kept on the belt for protection and U.N. policy, and tried fighting hand to hand with a few Gears side-by-side with Seikishidan, usually just becoming organic roadblocks for the Gears to plow through, killing off the brave women easier than they would a soldier or a fighter.

The scene was macabre.

The nearest pocket of soldiers Jaygus could find, he plunged in, slashing Gear after Gear, then jumped to the next hole in the buildings and rubble that a Gear jumped through or slid into the open fields. He slashed it down, finding another and killing it, making sure anything that moved and wasn't human was killed, not getting close to the MTs.

A building, with a crumbled roof, suddenly seemed to explode, a Gear bashing its way through a solid cement wall to make a new way for it to get out into the open field. Jaygus quickly separated the group of soldier he was with, running over to where the building side had crumbled, slicing down a Gear, which shook off the debris from its body. Another quickly followed, stabbing it three times in quick succession, then a third that leapt out like a jaguar. He sliced it in mid air, halfway through its neck, the body slapping into the ground and sending clods of dirt and grass into the air with its massive body rolling along the terrain. A fourth Gear jumped at him, running over the rubble like a spider, but fell quickly, its blood spouting out like dropping a stone in a still pool of water, blasting outward of the explosion on its left temple. Jaygus wondered for a moment as to what caused the Gear's death, not being his sword…then looked over to his right, seeing a familiar face.

The metal casing hit the ground inaudibly, the man reaching down, picking it up, and putting it in his pocket, as the loud thunder of the shot went unheard over the screams. Adam Gestahl holstered his pistol underneath his suit jacket, nodding to Jaygus. Gestahl and Jaygus were a good deal of years apart, Gestahl nearly Undersn's age, but yet they shared the knowledge of a senior person, both having graying or grayed slicked back hair and a disposition towards the formalities of the Old World. Neither of them had much for formal meeting, but through Kiske, they knew of whom each other were, and Jaygus had only heard rumors of that gun, but now he knew it existed, and that Gestahl had done him a favor. They shared a moment, looking into each other's eyes in the nearly pitch black night, then Jaygus turned back to the city as Gestahl hurried along with another wave of incoming civilians to a near MT.

Looking at the new hole, he didn't see any new Gears coming through…the only lights from the embers hundreds of meters off in the innards of the city casting a slight orange glow, hardly even useful. Then, he saw a slight glint…a sapphire glint. He instantly knew it.

"Mr. Kiske!" he yelled, stepping into the broken building, slicing a Gear to his side, which was to use the hole to exit. He ran a bit more, dodging two Gears, and meeting with Atlas, who took a moment to lean against a wall to catch his breath, then quickly sprinted alongside Jaygus. They stabbed and slashed a few Gears that popped out of the shadows, but moved quicker than they fought, Jaygus leading him through the hole and out into the field.

"The MT, sir! You must get on!" he said, hurrying Kiske over to one of the closest vehicles. The one on the far side started moving with a squeal of its tires, the people behind running alongside, screaming to please be able to get on, or almost tossing their loved ones onto the platform of the MT, running and grabbing onto anything they could to not be left behind.

"They're leaving now, sir! You must get on!" Jaygus said, nearly pushing Ky forward and through the mass of people. The soldier loading people on grabbing Kiske's arm, nodding in affirmation, hoisting him up, then Jaygus, and then another civilian.

The wheels of the other two MTs started turning, following the one that had already left, it being ahead by only a good few hundred meters. As Jaygus was lifted on board, he heard the scream of a man that was identifiable in a moment, the muffled sound of too many chins and not very tall, the arrogance gone for pure fear; it was Oppem. Jaygus turned, seeing the fat man, flustered in his face and holding his notepad as always, holding out a grubby hand to be helped on board, screaming U.N. rhetoric that if he were left, it would be the end of the Seikishidan, yadda yadda. Jaygus turned, not helping him, but heard another soldier grab his hand and hoist him in, Jaygus inwardly feeling disgusted that the man would force out families and space for children, innocents, for his own worthless life.

Ky was quickly jostled around inside, moved forward by the few soldiers amongst the civilians inside and they seemed to act like a coneyor belt, pushing him to the front, Jaygus behind, trying to fit between the hundreds of "civies" in the MT.

As I said when I first introduced the MT, they were troop transports. They had two sides, each having one-hundred seats, total of two hundred soldiers, and two drivers in the forward compartment, total two-hundred-and-two people. They must have had four-hundred-and-fifty on there. A bit over capacity limit.

Ky could hear the screams of civilians and people, pleading to God to be let on, but they just couldn't fit. As the MT pulled away, he could hear the double doors in back violently being shut as their speed picked up, the surge of following people unable to keep up. The only thought that could surge through his head is that all of the soldiers they left…fighting on the edges of the city so that they would have time and they could escape, get the civilians out, and even yet, they had three double-packed MTs, and they had to still leave a great deal of people. He felt sick to his stomach, wanted to vomit, and almost did, but choked it back down his throat.

Finally, he was at the entrance to the driver's cabin, seeing two dreary eyed men holding the steering wheel, looking at him imploringly. A gruff voice bounded over the radio system, situated on the upper panel of the MT among many switches and lights. The voice was unmistakable in its obedience and imploring nature.

"Sir, what do we do? Where do we go?" Rivarez asked from another MT. Ky picked up the paddle of the radio, holding it to his face, thinking for a moment, the bumps throwing the entire cabin and crying symphony behind him into another scream and his own sword, which he had sheathed somewhere in his run to the front, rumbling at his side. He turned to see Oppem approaching to the curses of a few whom he pushed out of the way.

"Mr. Kiske! This is an outrage! You were attacked and look at this mess! You're going to be gone, out!" he said with a furious demeanor, the fat cheeks rosy red with his run to the MT and still catching his breath in quick, but large gasps of the humid and hot air inside the stuffed cabin. But, Atlas had no response. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it…unable to say anything, the image of the closing doors to the hundreds of people left in the field outside of Lyon lingering in his mind. How could he have left them, why…how could it have happened…the death, leaving innocents to just fight an innumerable force they couldn't win, that they would all be dead in a matter of minutes. Rivarex asked again on the radio, with a bit more of an imploring tone, hoping that his C.O. was on the other side.

"You heard him, what do we do!" Oppem asked, pushing his glasses up his face again.

"You're in charge" Ky said in utter defeat to the sigh and nod of disappointment to Jaygus, a few heads back and out of Kiske's viewing range, but he heard. Ky couldn't take it, Jaygus knew it…how, when those lives were lost and the world he held up on his shoulders shattered, how he just couldn't hold it, and he didn't know what to do. Even Jesus had his falters.

"We…we…I…" Oppem faltered, stuttering and fumbling with his notepad, trying to decide. He wasn't a man who was used to deciding, and he couldn't, he was just a snitch for the U.N., and even though he was in "command" for his ranking in the U.N., he didn't know the first thing to do when in command. He was shoved to the side by a familiar face in a familiar black suit, as Gestahl made his way to the front.

"Adam Gestahl…I hadn't known you were on board this MT." Ky said for a moment, trying to find words.

"Indeed, I found a hard time out of the city, but I wasn't without the help of a few brave souls of your men, Mr. Kiske." He said, running his hand through his thinning hair. "What to do, Hans?" he said, turning to short and rotund man who was still jumbled in his words, unable to say anything. Finally, he broke into speech after the hardened eyes of Gestahl and Kiske.

"We've got to…get out of here, go somewhere, get help, to the nearest city!"

"…Are you sure?" Gestahl asked timidly, over the roar of the overstuffed cabin.

"Yes! To the nearest city! That's an order! We'll get help there and kill the Gears following us!" Gestahl only reached up with his hand, rubbing his tired eyes, looking to Kiske.

"Do you know what the nearest city is?" he said mournfully and slowly.

"Yes…Neo-Troy." Ky said flatly.

-X- Author's Notes –X-
- Zeronova's Notes:
- And this chapter only took FOREVER to actually get posted. I lost 36-41 when my story got deleted, so I retooled it with the new aesthetics for the first Arc (and renamed it Desolate Gail: Redux, which is just Dual Enmity + Spiffy New Looks), I'm retooling the second arc, and now every chapter will be perfect before posting. Also, I rewrote 36-40, then I found the files I lost on a remote Geocities server. Talk about wasted effort. I like the originals better anyway, and I had to rewrite the second half of this chapter. By the way, did you notice that last line in this chapter?
-X- End Author's Notes –X-