Disclaimer: I don't own Vandread.

A/N

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Chapter 8

"I saw death like you wouldn't believe. Words destroyed by monsters of metal, all driven with a singular purpose: Our annihilation. Why? I don't know. But I'm not going to ask a hunk of metal why, either." - Barnette to the Unknown Pilot.

News did not travel fast.

Sad it was to say, technology wasn't all that cracked up when it came to communications. Avalanche could appreciate such a thing from time to time, but even he wished for more when there were things that needed knowing.

Rumor was, a ship of theirs got knocked out of the sky a week ago. Raiders most likely. They had the tech to do it, even if it was stolen from them. Didn't change a damn thing. Not that it ever did. But hearing that sent chills down his spine.

The world had enough problems as it was. Raiders and pirates were their primary problems. Stupid as they were, they could get a job done if they really wanted something. And if they wanted it bad enough, they were willing to go to the extreme to get it.

Shame too. Most of them were underpaid pilots sometimes. Rare as it was, they wanted to make more. Why work for a military when you could work for a pirate group and make more money doing illegal stuff? Sad truth of the matter was that it wasn't sociaties fault either. It was genetic. It was humanity's fault for succumbing to the meme.

It was back in 1976 that a Richard Dawkins coined the word in his book, The Selfish Gene. It was a speculation that human beings have an adaptive mechanism that other species didn't have. In addition to genetic inheritance with its possibilities and limitations, humans can pass their ideas from one generation to the next, allowing them to surmount challenges more flexibly and more quickly than through the longers process of genetic adaptation and selection.

For some, the examples one might use to describe a meme would the idea of God; the importance of the individual as opposed to group importance; the belief that the environment can to some extent be controlled or that technologies can create an electronically interconnected world community.

But for others it was nothing more than a stupid image with some words on it.

Avalanche saw it as Richard Dawkins did: An idea passed from one generation to another. Money was never something he cared about. Fame was on his list, but with fame came more work, which inturn meant more money, something he didn't care about. It was a vicious circle there.

But the one thing he did believe in - His "meme" as it was. - was in following orders. If your superior told you shoot yourself, you didn't ask why, you simply did.

Two days ago he got orders from Mori to look into something. One of their new ships were four days late in getting back. Telecommunications could have reached them by this point, but they had received nothing. Whatever was taking this long was not normal, even for ships conducting operations in an asteroid field with raiders.

Which brought him to the here and now in his Hybrid in search of the lost ship and her crew.

Normally he'd be in a jumpship to do a thing with a small crew to take on survivors and help repair the damaged vessel. But since this mission had been off the books and was in danger of going sideways with the higher ups, he was alone in his craft.

This whole thing felt wrong, but right to him. He didn't need to endanger his team with something so backwards as this. It was better this way. No one else had to die if this went south.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was going to find out here. He knew this was raider territory. Many times they had tried to launch assaults against them, but none of them stuck. Too many resources to mount a successful operation against them. It became a war of attrition. No one liked that.

His radar suddenly pinged off something.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the source. It was directly ahead of him. There were two of them. Motionless, probably broke down. IFF confirmed them as… Viper and Angel.

The engine hummed as it was pushed further. His cockpit made not a sound or jostle as he picked up speed, heading straight for the location of his friends. "This is Avalanche broadcasting on an open channel. Viper, please respond." He gave it a ten second wait. No reply. "This is Avalanche broadcasting on an open channel. Viper, please respond." Still no reply. He was close, almost able to make out their crafts.

Fear took him.

There was nothing else on the radar. He looked all around to make sure before he put his craft next to one of them. The thing was beat up with scorch marks and ripped metal. Something had tried to take the thing apart piece by piece. But what did it?

He tapped his comm. "Viper, you on this channel?" He brought a flashlight out from his pouch and flicked it on and off. A light answered back. His radio hissed with static. "Viper, that you?"

"Avalanche," Viper's voice came through but it was panicked. "Shut off your power now! Radar is useless! Comms too!"

He worked his jaw in thought before complying. The last thing he saw on his radar was a single blimp that was well in front of him. Maybe two hundred plus kilometers out. But for it to show up at all was…

We can't outrun these things!

What things?

Red machines! They took our team and ship apart.

Lightning…? Avalanche had loaned her out to them. They got her? Her, of all people? How? Thunder rumbled overhead, forcing his eyes up. The stars had disappeared. He blinked once, twice, then finally it hit him. Something massive was above them. It was moving. But his radar had said it was… We need to move!

No dice. These things are crazy fast. Best thing we can do is hope they leave. They're looking for us. You too, now.

Damnit! This was the worst possible outcome. Something hit them, something hit them hard. They had to have been swarmed. And how was it faster than an Attacker? Not saying other people didn't have tech that could do it, but he'd never seen it. Now there were… What…? Aliens? That was so stupid he might have laughed if his gut wasn't twisting into knots.

Something else you should know. Something came and helped us. Drew them away for a bit. Figured it was help.

Like what?

A Raven.

Avalanche sucked in deep through his teeth. A Raven was out here? Helping them? Why? He shook his head. That could be figured out later. If this thing was real, then they needed to get back home before it came after them. But how?

Angel's cockpit light up. Make a run for it. Both of you!

No!

It was too late. Her craft came alive, the engines roaring as she took off. Avalanche and Viper followed her lead, both reactivating their machines and taking off just as fast. A hailstorm of red energy fell from the craft and their radars lit up like christmas lights.

"I'll draw them off!" Angel told them.

"Don't be stupid!" Avalanche hissed out through gritted teeth. The barrage was relentless. Red machines flew in front of his craft, tiny claws reaching out to grab hold of something to try and rip him apart.

"Avalanche, we'll draw them off. Get back home. Warn our people! We'll try to lead them away!" Viper's voice was strangely calm. Their machines broke off from his, flying far and fast.

Avalanche felt the knot in his gut tighten. He was only a few days out, but he knew that if he could get back, they might be able to mount something against this. He flew the other direction, his craft transforming into its humanoid form, a large rifle in hand as it fired on the machines tailing him. If he could get back…

His craft transformed back to its plane form and he flew off. What little information he had on these things from just thirty seconds of flying away and fighting, along with Viper's observations, would help them. Though, he wondered if this would make him seem like a crazy person.

(-)

Trig grumbled as she stared down at the bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy that lined her plate. All that greasy food. She wanted to vomit. Again!

"Told you it was a bad idea."

Her hateful, bloodshot, gaze fell on Barnette as the green haired pirate sipped on some herbal tea, her food already eaten. She was hiding a smile behind the mug.

Another late night of drinking at the bar all because she wanted to keep in contact with her team. Shame that Avalanche wasn't there again. That man was more aloof that she liked. Trig was going to get him to the bar one day.

Of course, word was he took an off-the-books job from someone. Real hush-hush stuff. Not good in her eyes. Sometimes the pay was good, but usually it was a sticky mess with too much redtape and he-said she-said bullshit for her liking. Of course, most times you couldn't get out of it. She didn't doubt for a second that this was one of those times either.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Barnette asked around her cup.

Their ride was out on patrol with Shamrock and a few other pilots. Going into town would be a pain and not something Trig wanted to do in her current state. Coffee wasn't helping either.

"Find you a place and a job."

Barnette released a heavy sigh. She had been looking, but nothing here was something she was qualified for. Trig, for all her help, could only do so much. Which, as of right now, was still very little. They'd gone to a few stories in the past few days to see about getting her job, but no one was currently hiring. At least not someone of her stature.

She had the skills and mindset for any job they had here, bar the education for obvious reasons. If she could just get her foot in the door… It was easier back home, which wasn't saying much. The women of Mejura cared deeply for others, no matter how bad they were at any given job. If came with the territory, but didn't mean they would do this for high paid positions.

"How are we doing this?"

Trig mumbled something to herself as she glanced in the direction of her room. Barnette followed her line of sight and blanched. Unspoken as it was, Barnette had never gone into her room before. Mostly out of respect for the woman, but also because she had never been invited in.

"I have a computer in my room. We'll go through jobs and figure it out from there." Reluctant as she sounded to do so, Trig pondered the idea of her getting a job. Obviously, Barnette wanted one. But the problem was that no one was hiring. She knew that. Sky Kid knew that. Everyone knew that. The market was terrible right now.

The green haired pirate nodded with no enthusiasm. She wanted to return to the sky. The rush of endorphins surging through her veins, the high-speed action that came with it, and the thrill of the hunt that was always there. That was what she wanted to return to.

However, knowing that wasn't an option, her next best thing was warehouse or inventory control. Working with Gascgone made it possible to consider the idea of such a thing. If she could just do something she was familiar with before trying to branch out…

Trig finally worked up the nerve to eat her food and once the dishes were clean, moved to her room with the green haired pirate tailing her.

Having seen her room only once, Barnette was less than pleased to see it as it was currently wrecked with clothes lining the floor and bed, the latter of which looked as though it had never been made a day in its life. Her desk was no better, having beer bottles lining it and the window seal with a few still having something in it.

Trig sat down and started going to job listing sites. Barnette moved some clothes off the bed to sit down and watch, since she knew what she was getting in to. Not two minutes later and searches coming up empty, Trig leaned back, blowing a raspberry as she did, and let out a frustrated groan.

"So," she began, her voice now showing no signs of the hangover she started the day with, "there are a few options. Just nothing solid that would get you a place of your own with the pay you'd get."

Barnette shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "How bad?"

"Farm hand and water drilling."

"I don't know the first thing about either of those."

Trig nodded. She didn't either. Her knowledge was probably on the same level. Still… "People who drill for water make good money, but the transportation to the sites will kill your pay. The closest one is," she started typing to find out, "seventy-eight miles away. Your shift starts at six in the morning and ends around the same time. Taking in speed limits and traffic, you'd have to leave your house sometime around four in the morning. Which means you'd be getting home around nine in the afternoon, depending on traffic and if you stop for food."

Barnette wasn't quick with math, but the numbers sounded right in her head. Looking over her shoulder at the job description, she blanched and sat back down, her face a mask of worry. "I have no idea on how any of that works."

"They'd train you. You're other option is to work on one of the farms. They don't pay well, but the plus side is you get to live on the property. Bad part is that you are never gonna get a day off unless you leave for the day."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Avalanche, actually. He grew up on a farm. Worked every day of his life until he joined the corp." Barnette arched a thin brow. From what little she'd seen of the man, she didn't seem him as someone who's humble beginning started there. "We can keep looking in town when Sky Kid gets back from his patrol. Otherwise…" Trig let it hang there, her face a mask as she looked at a photo of her that had been put on her desk.

Barnette glanced down at the thing, her eyes narrowing. "I don't like him."

Trig barked a laugh. She wiped a tear from her eye as she leaned back, still laughing as she turned to her ward. "To be fair, not many people do. One person does, bless her heart."

"Someone likes that big… idiot?"

The pilot stared at her ward for a moment longer, weighing options as she looked her over. Barnette felt naked under her gaze. "Yep," she said, popping the "P" as she got up. "You met here too."

Barnette furrowed her brow in thought. She'd met plenty of women here and on the ship, so the idea of it being someone she already knew was rather daunting for her to think on. Thankfully, she didn't much care for him or the thought of someone liking that man.

"The only other option is nothing for the time being. Sky Kid won't be off until noon, but he won't be here until four. Reports." Trig made a sour face. The words were like venom to her. She'd rather much never file another report if she could.

"So then we're just laying around for the rest of the day." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Trig nodded slowly, not liking the option either. Barnette threw herself on the bed spread eagle, her eyes tightly shut. This wasn't what she wanted to hear today. "The card game…?" her voice trailed as she sat up, her eyes downcast.

"We have one plained for a few days from now. Avalanche will be there for this one. If only because he's petty in that he wants the damn trophy."

"What is it?"

"Trophy or the game?"

Barnette opened her mouth and then promptly shut it as she thought. "...Both…?"

Trig flashed her a toothy grin. "The trophy is a cup - Well, mug, actually. - that we give to the winner. Used to say "Wild Cards and Dirty Cunts!" but it eventually got broken because Riptide was too drunk and dropped it in her moment of victory. Then it got changed to "One to Rule them All!" before it too saw the floor, though that one more because we had been too loud and someone called the cops. Bashed in the door and we freaked as a result. Right now the damn thing just reads "Contents will Fuck U Up!" in different colours."

Barnette did a spit take at the names and ran the back of her arm across her lips.

"But the game is different. It's called: Cards Against Humanity. An old card game that we started playing with Dusk when he was still alive. The name of the game is to win by playing to the heart of the judge by answering his black card with your white cards. It goes in a circle so the judge is always shifting."

"This sounds dumb."

Trig got up and moved to her closet, clothes falling out as she opened it up and started searching for something. A moment later she came back with a black box with the name stenciled across it and faded. She popped the top and pulled out a handful of white cards before throwing down a black one face down. Barnette took the white cards and shuffled through them, her brow rising with each card.

"What the fuck?!"

"Eeeexactly." Trig let loose a laugh and presented the black card. Barnette stared at it and then down to the twenty-plus white cards in her hand. "Find one that answers this."

"...I don't want to…" Her voice was a near whisper.

"For me? I'll clean the dishes tonight after supper."

"Dinner…" Barnette corrected as she looked at the questionable black card. "Blank, good to the last drop?"

"Oh! Fill in the blank spot with the white card. Only one!"

Barnette tentatively looked back down at her hand. She had a few in mind, but they were just so… so… wrong! They made her laugh. But they were horrible. Inhumane. Cruel. Every card was an insult to race, age, sex, idealisim, and thought. None of these were…Her brow quirked a bit when she looked back down at the name of the game.

Finally, she slapped down a card. Trig took it, already smiling. "Period Blood, good to the last drop." She smacked her lips as though it were a real delicacy. Barnette pursed her lips. "Not bad. If I were the judge, I wouldn't have taken it, but I know that Riptide would have been rolling with this card."

"So, the game is just be offensive?"

"...Yeah… Not much else. But play to the heart of the judge. And sometimes you just don't have cards that work with the black cards because the words are wrong, but it won't matter. Not to us. And just because you have a bad card, doesn't mean you can't make a joke when they read it. Oh, and when they read it, make sure to keep a poker face because we won't know who it was that placed the card. The judge has no idea who threw what out, that way there's no personal bias towards one person. They have to simply like the card and pick it. And don't be afraid to make a story with it."

"Why?"

"Sometimes that sells it even more."

(-)

Sky Kid's hand gently moved the controls of his craft from muscle memory. He was on auto-pilot, shame as it was to even admit it, not that he would, while he looked over the radar for any signs of a problem.

He'd check the time, but he swore the damn clock was wrong. Hadn't changed since the last time he looked at-No, it changed.

Patrol duty was usually the main focus for all pilots. Keep the airspace safe. Was that even the right terminology? He was in space, flying an Attacker, a few dozen meters behind Shamrock, and looking for Lord knows what to show up. If he wasn't an old hand at this, he'd question why this job required them.

Didn't make things better than Shamrock was quiet the entire time. Damn fool was quieter than the dead, and somehow still able to fly his craft with little to no problem. Was he sleeping? No. He wasn't that brave.

Shamrock was a man of many talents and secrets. Some said he was the smartest man in the fleet. Others claimed he was the greatest detective that they never wanted. The man knew things no one should know. Often, to his own detriment.

Even so, he was a proud member of their team and the second in command as appointed by Avalanche.

Sky Kid shut eyes as he became engrossed in thought. Shame as it was, there were people in their crew he'd never spoken to prior to his joining.

Back when they still had Dusk for a leader, they had visited their old school with a notion of passing on knowledge and skills to the next generation. It was a blessing for many, himself included, to have people that had spent a few years in the field come back home and teach them something for nothing.

Shamrock had always been there at the front. His knowledge was vast in all things for an Attacker. Never leave your wingman being his main thing. It was a common thing for those learning to get shot down only because they wanted glory and would leave their assigned wingman behind.

Dusk, for his short stint coming, was a man of many words and actions. Piloting a Hybrid, he was a man that taught newbies new methods in combat that, at the time, he had never considered in his past.

But the real reason they came back wasn't to give out information, but to try and find a reason to keep living. They had recently lost their original leader, a woman of great strength and power, and were struggling to come to terms with it.

At the time, Sky Kid had never known it. It was a moment of intense drinking on Lightning's part that he learned the truth. Dusk was not their previous leader, but he tried to be her because she was the only one he'd ever known as a leader. While his struggle was unseen, the loss had brought them together in their suffering.

When Dusk died and Avalanche was appointed as the new leader, there were bumps that had to be ridden over. Avalanche was neither of the previous leaders. Though he tried to emulate them, he couldn't.

What made it worse was that in the two years of Avalanche's leadership, they lost more of their crew than they ever had. When the original leader fell, it came with a heavy price on their morals and beliefs. When Dusk fell in combat, it shook them all, as he was, to some, unkillable. The two shared only one thing in common and that no one else had died under their leadership.

But Avalanche had gotten other members of their team killed. Their deaths weighed on him heavily. He distanced himself, not because he was worried they'd scold him for his failures, but because he didn't know how to handle them himself. Deep down, he was a broken, sad, and static man. He lived in a past that he couldn't escape from, and most likely, never would.

Sky Kid couldn't imagine being in his shoes. He didn't want to be a leader. Never had a desire for it. But knowing the dark truth was something he wished he could forget. Not because he didn't want to bear the burden, but because-

The radar pinged, snapping him from his thoughts. A single blimp winked into existence and he looked ahead through the canopy to see if he could make anything out.

"Sky Kid, you see a trailer?" Shamrock's voice cut over the line.

"Negative." The two flew in silence, weapons at the ready while waiting for the IFF to come back. A few short seconds later it appeared for them. "Shamrock, can you verify?"

"Rodger. I got Avalanche on radar."

"Copy."

Sky Kid released a sigh of content. He hadn't expected Avalanche to be out here, but rumors had placed him out in space for a job of some kind. Was that why they were deployed to this location? They were further out than normal. Almost as if command had anticipated this.

A beat passed and orders rolled in across his monitor. BRING AVALANCHE IN!

"Sky Kid, confirm orders."

"Orders received." He grumbled and banked his craft a little to follow Shamrock. A moment later they were on either side of Avalanche's craft. It was dinged and sported scorch marks, no doubt from combat. From his vantage point, Sky Kid could see their leader taking deep breaths as he leaned back against his chair, his eyes closed.

His eyes danced over to Shamrock and though he wore a helmet, it was clear that something was wrong with him. The man was actually eyeing his leader and watching as he took shallow breaths and barely focused on their forms.

"Shamrock to base… Avalanche is messed up. I don't think he's going to make it back." The Captain of Hold Tight gave a reply and started working with rescue teams to grab up the pilot. Shamrock looked over to Sky Kid for a moment. "Sky Kid, you see anything on radar?"

He looked down at the device, giving a shake of his head. "Negative." Sky Kid tapped his radar out of fear. He was worried it might be on the fritz. But when nothing else was showing up, he couldn't argue against it. Still… "Once we get him in, let's head further out. Make sure nothing tailed him."

"Not one for that, but alright."

The front of the ship opened up and a pair of mechanical arms snapped out, taking a firm hold of Avalanche's craft. The engines died out as the arms worked him into the hanger for transport. Both pilots watched the front of the ship close before they broke off and started heading further out, two more machines flying behind them.

Sky Kid put his head against the back of his seat, his eyes closed for a moment as he was left to think on what could have put their leader in such condition. He opened his eyes with a scowl and blasted off, following Shamrock's lead. They'd figure that out later.