Disclaimer: I don't own Vandread.

A/N

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Chapter 9

"We hold no one accountable but ourselves. A choice was made and now, here at the end, we have only one option: Walk it. Know that we will not go quietly into the night. We will face this evil with a fire hotter than the sun and conviction to stand against any storm." - Mori to Barnette at Hopewell's departure.

William didn't like the military. Too much red tape and bureaucracy for his taste. They made demands that no doctor could allow or should allow for their patiences. Doctors held more power than the military in some rare instances.

People always assumed that they had a right to cave to the demands of those of higher power without question.

Not true.

In almost all cases there was paperwork that needed to be filed to get past them. Yes, in rare cases that could be avoided, like threats made by the person lying in the medical bed, or some critical information that needed to be pulled no matter what.

Media really gave off the impression that military leaders could do whatever they want and simply get away with it. Of course, that wasn't to say that doctors held more power than the military either. Plenty of shows existed of doctors that challenged political figures and warlords, but at the end of the day, it was nothing more than media tales.

It all just came down to paperwork. Not much else.

Of course, that wasn't to say that the doctor had the power to say no to the military. But it damn near at times was not an option.

Like right now. Avalanche was admitted to his ward after being pulled from his craft and rushed to him. The man had seen better days by a longshot. He was near dead in his bed and mumbling incoherently. His body was dehydrated. No sooner had they laid him down to start their testing did the woman of great ire to him walk in like she owned the place.

"Mori," William started, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "we can't stop the test right now."

Oh! And they had thrown him in for an MRI. Dehydration, incoherent muttering, bloodshot eyes, labored breathing, and rocketing heart-rate. Something was wrong with him.

Mori stood defiant in front of him, her arms crossed with the cane tucked under one arm, most likely clasped in a hand at that. She was probably contemplating ways to end him right now.

Behind him two other doctors worked, thankful to not be in her line of fire for the moment. They were already started to look worried, something William caught when he glimpsed back, making sure to keep his body in front of the computers so Mori didn't get any ideas or information. Patient-Doctor confidentiality and all that.

But, as if to counter him, behind Mori were two intimidating men in armor with big guns in hand. William was a chubby man and didn't think for a second that he had enough fat or muscle mass to him to stop even one bullet from those guns. A lab coat and button up shirt would do very little in protecting his soft flesh from the rounds.

Mori put on a sweet face, one that made the wrinkled woman look scarier as she spoke in a false polite voice. "I understand that, Doctor William, but we need to speak with Avalanche about his mission. We need information."

"And you'll get it once the scans are done and we know what's wrong with him." He looked to one of the two men as he shifted his stance, his helmet turning just enough to probably make eye contact with his partner before looking down at the frail old woman who was their leader. "Once the tests are done and we have the information on what's wrong with him, and he's stable enough, you can ask your questions. No sooner. No later."

"Doctor William, I fully understand medical protocols. I practically helped write them my junior year in highschool while working in the clinic you work at." William doubted that, but he wasn't going to interrupt a woman that believed in air-lock diplomacy. "However, given that this is my ship. I feel as though those rules do not apply here."

"But he is my patient, and therefore, per regulations, under my supervision until I clear him for duty."

The two had a minor stare-down, both not backing down. It was only by chance that one of the guards spoke up, pointing to the machine. "Ma'am, I hate to be the one to point this out, but if they turn that thing on, and we stay in here, you included, that thing will pull all the metal from us into there, making whatever information you want, useless."

Mori held her gaze a moment longer, her eyes now dancing to the machine, armaments they carried, and lack of other metals in the room before conceding. "Very well." She tapped her cane twice on the ground before turning to leave. The two men released a grunts as they slowly turned to follow before coming to an immediate halt. "Do inform me when he wakes, Doctor. This is not over."

"Of course. When I've discharged Avalanche, you are free to speak to him." The door snapped shut with an angry hiss. I really do not like that woman.

(-)

Barnette looked over Trig's shoulder as the woman scowled at the computer. She'd been fuming for two minutes now, obviously concerning something in the email she got. Whatever it was, it was enough to make her turn red.

"That stupid fucker!"

Barnette recoiled at the sudden outburst. Trig got up from her desk, running through her room for presentable clothing while the green-haired pirate glanced down at the email in question. In her very quick skim she caught Avalanche's name and something about a hospital before she turned away and walked out while Trig continued to swear up a storm.

There was never much doubt in the way of their combat abilities. Barnette heard stories from their nights at the bar. Some of them were crazier than anything she or anyone in the Nirvana could dream up. Meia would be hard pressed to take on such questionable talent if the stories were to be fact. Daring rescues, scouting missions, farming asteroids, and ransacking enemy bases were the norm around here. Sure, she'd done plenty of those in the past. But the stories they told seemed more… vibrant and risky. Like they were on the edge of their seats, praying for victory and continued existence. Nothing like the stories she had. She told the worst one she could remember.

But… Avalanche, wasn't Meia. He was fallible. That much was a given. What few glimpses she got of the man, rare as they were, painted him in a dark light that did nothing to illuminate him. He took risks to protect them, yes. But he'd never gone as far as Meia had.

Barnette could remember a time when Meia had been reckless, though not that word she'd use now, and nearly died. If not for Duerro, Paiway, and Parfait, she might have finally bit the dust. Reckless was a word she used then, but not now. Not with time to think at the moment.

The only thing they had in common was that they were Flight Leaders. Nothing more.

So that begs the important question: What did he do to end up in the hospital?

A few thoughts came to mind, but only in parallel to Meia. Avalanche, like Meia, was rather distant, but for a different reason. Meia was distant because she didn't want to feel weak by being attached to another human. A noteworthy reason, as Meia was a driving force in the belief that women were superior to men. She had beauty - Even if she wasn't willing to admit it! - grace, keen intentilect, and power at her side.

Avalanche was distant because he was afraid of his failures. Plain and simple. The man wasn't what he thought he was, but he tried anyway. Sometimes, as sad it was to admit it, Barnette knew that the only way to get through life was to make the lie you told the truth. Avalanche was living the lie he told.

That distance that he put between his team and himself wasn't just for his failures, but because he wasn't wanting to endanger them with objectives he felt would get them killed. Thus, he did things on his own because to him they would die and it would further the weight he now bore.

Chances were, he did something stupid and got hurt.

The only other thing she could think of was that he ate bad food and got sick. But given how Trig reacted to the email…

"Get dressed!" Trig ordered.

Barnette blinked once, twice, and then stared at her. Trig was almost fully clothed, say for a shirt that she was desperately searching for. She'd thrown on a pair of jeans and boots and was in the middle of searching for a shirt that most likely wouldn't match.

She scampered off to her room to get dressed when Trig turned and gave her a pointed look.

(-)

Life, as it was known, was about balance. His mother was brilliant, but manipulative. Loves her kids, killed her last husband. He always took note of that, if only because you don't really get another one after that. Killing your last husband was sort of like putting your number in a bathroom stall. Stupid and only done once because people will hound you for it.

For Shamrock, his balance came in the form of being brilliant, but stuck with idiots. Yes, he used the term lightly. Sky Kid and Trig had a good head on their shoulders, but sometimes he didn't know if they knew their ass from a hole in the ground. They reacted to any sort of news, no matter how small, like it was the end of the world.

Just last year he went in for a checkup, came out with the flu and not much else. Somehow - Through methods he dared not look into. - Sky Kid found out about his illness, reported it to Trig, like the good friend that he was, and then somehow he ended up with the entire squad at his door with cards, fruit, and beer, the latter of which was brought by a stupidly drunk Hound who had only come because the information by then had been so backwards it might have been a truth for someone else.

So of course when Sky Kid sent an email saying Avalanche was in the hospital and nothing else, the entire squad showed up, like the good people that they were; Barnette included, strangely enough.

"How is he?" Riptide asked, her voice low and subdued.

"He's dying." Their mouths fell open as they worked the information. Barnette narrowed her eyes on Shamrock as the man didn't even flinch under his own words. "Every day, he dies a little more. Just like me. Like you. Like all of us. Life is a sexually transmitted disease with no cure and a hundred percent fatality rate."

At the mere mention of sex, Hound snapped from his stupor, offering up a heated glare on the Lucky themed pilot. He would have punched him, yelled, or maybe even punched him, but they were in a hospital. Rules and etiquette stood here above all other places.

He'd hit him later.

"Yep. He's dying. Not gonna live for much longer I'm afraid." Shamrock didn't crack a smile. Barnette rolled her eyes. "Good head on your shoulders, B. Rather like that about you." He put his hands in his pockets, his expression becoming that of an annoyed teenager who'd just realized an error in friendship. "You guys are so stupid."

"Sky Kid said he was in the hospital! Not much more to go on!" Riptide finally hissed through clenched teeth. When she got her hands on that young pilot, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. "So what happened?"

Shamrock rolled his eyes now. "I know about as much as you do, if not less. We pulled him in while on patrol. My best guess: He ran into trouble. Took a solo op. Had to have seen something and hightailed it back like the Hounds of Hell were after him."

"That! That right there!" Trig pointed at him, her face one of hostility. "You know more than we do! We just had his email to go by."

"And that is why I say you guys are stupid. All of you! First off: Avalanche hasn't slept in about three days and was dehydrated. He's fine. Little rest and water will fix him up. Secondly: Never trust Sky Kid's emails. Remember the last one he sent? Hound's ass is probably still sore from it!" At that, several pairs of eyes landed on the man as he scratched said spot with a bored expression. "Lastly: I have to now report this information to Mori! Not that Avalanche is tired and thirsty, but that Sky Kid decided to email you guys while still working!"

A collective groan rolled through them at that. Riptide held her face in her hands while Trig threw her head back, releasing a loud groan that echoed in the hallway. Hound rolled his eyes, oblivious to what that meant.

"He's not supposed to, is he?" Barnette finally asked after several awkward, and funny, seconds of silence passed.

"No. No he is not. Which means we might come under fire again. It's times like these I wish I wasn't second in command, because this job sucks. It's not you guys getting yelled at. It's the two of us. And then we have to report it back to you guys because grabbing all of us up to yell at us is just a massive waste of time."

"I agree."

"Hound. Shut up. Now. Just shut your mouth before I put you on patrol duty for a month with Kill Monger's team." The large man snapped his mouth shut, leaving a very confused and interested Barnette to stare at the bead of sweat that was now running down his brow as he shook. Knowing he got him quiet, Shamrock turned to the others while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let's just hope that whatever he saw isn't something bad and is enough to get us off the hook for this little screw up. The fact Mori hasn't called me yet is proof that whatever Avalanche dealt with is bigger than us."

"So shut up, stay down, and stay out of sight for a few days?" Trig reasoned slowly.

Sighing, Shamrock nodded slowly. "...Yes… That about sums everything up."

Hound gave a loud grumble as he looked the team over. "So," he made sure his voice carried, despite how close they all were, "I left the hooker in the hotel for nothing?"

Riptide groaned into her hand and Trig shot him a dirty look. Shamrock ripped out his phone, a look of murder sketched upon his face as he dialed a number. "Monger! You need another Sentinel for patrols!"

"No. No. No. No!"

"Don't you guys have rations or something in your craft?"

Barnette's question pulled Shamrock from his call and made him stare at the woman. He was the smartest person in the room right now, and even he was willing to give her that one. They did have rations and water in case of emergency. Which now pressed the issue of what could have caused Avalanche to become dehydrated and starved if they had them?

Sensing something amiss, Barnette pressed the topic. "Unless he used up his rations in one go, supposing you only have enough for one or two days, that still leaves him with three days to get dehydrated to the point he's in now. Which either means he was gone a lot longer than you guys know about, or something is wrong with his body."

Shamrock put the phone down, a curious smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Hound had ran off in fear when Riptide had decided to lecture him on his manners for the ill, leaving Shamrock with the two females. One of whom was proving to be rather smart.

"You know something we don't." Trig crossed her arms under her bust, her eyes going cold as she glared at the man in front of her. He scratched at his bicep, his eyes suddenly softening a little. "Speak."

Shamrock's eyes narrowed into slits. His jaw became tight as his eyes, though hard to see, looked over the two females with an almost quizickle glee. "Regardless, all victories entitle naysayers, slanderers, and relativists equal footing, lowering your intellectual nature grievously." Shamrock scratched at his nose, smiling as he did. "Barnette, you got a good head. Make sure you keep Trig in check." He gave the green-haired pirate a good natured tap on the shoulder as he left.

Trig remained in stunned stupor. Barnette finally took notice when she saw the slightly older woman's fist tighten

What did he say to her?

Trig shut her eyes and looked into the room where her Flight Leader was being kept. After a few seconds of staring at the door, she shut her eyes, spun on her heels, and started walking. "Let's go shopping."

(-)

Being the smartest man in the room always made Shamrock want to get out of the room and go somewhere else. Anywhere was better than the room he was in. No different than the old - Albeit stupid! - saying that the grass was always greener on the other side.

Yeah. Not the case really.

If someone took the time to care for their grass, it would be green on their side. Take care of your lawn and it will look just like the grass that was green on the other side of the stupid fence.

But being the smartest man in the room came with more problems than it was sometimes worth. Hiding one's intelligence also came with problems, like making sure that you never revealed too much information. He could say with certainty that he wasn't able to hold back his intelligence. It was a curse to him. To be the only one burdened with knowledge and a desire to know more.

Which lead him to his current problem.

What did Avalanche see that caused him such a violent reaction.

Sitting at his computer as it winked on, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. Not many things could get one over him, but this one was stumping him profusely. The military coding wasn't impossible to crack, but this time it was almost impenetrable.

Why is this so hard this time? He knew the answer, but questioning it made him feel better. Opened his mind to other possibilities. All of them leading to dark corners best left alone.

But he had to know. What did Avalanche see that could cause such a violent reaction? Why did Madam Mori suddenly have such a rabid interest in him? He saw something, but that something was the problem. What could he have seen that would have caused such damage to his body so quickly?

An hour of digging later brought him to the hearing with Barnette. At first he played the idea of the two being connected but then he thought better of it. Opening the file brought up a set of images. All of them were of various red cubes with tiny arms and legs.

Eyes tightly shut, he recalled the day they found her. She had been hurt. Shot down by something. She spoke about aliens and red machines. They played it off as the ravings of a madwomen.

Could there really be aliens out there attacking us? Were they real aliens or was it just a word used to describe someone from another world that wasn't supposed to be in the area? Like the days of old back on Earth when one person came illegally into your country. If that was the case, then this wasn't an alien.

It still posed a problem. If another planet was invading their area with hostile intent, they had to respond. But they hadn't shown up in their area yet.

Which meant one of two possibilities. Either A.) They were currently on their way over and had been spotted before they could launch an all out offensive. Avalanche's interference would force them to mobilize and start sooner rather than later. A full force bearing down on them with the intent to completely crush them could do just that. But if they weren't ready and now forced to move, they might lose.

Or it was B.) They were going from planet to planet taking what resources they could and just happened to get caught out in the open by Avalanche. If he spotted them in the act, they would react hostile and he simply ran off while a small squad gave chase.

If they moved from planet to planet, that gave them time. Their ships could travel fast and cover the distance between worlds in a day. Whatever ship he left off of could have traveled for two to three days and covered a far amount of distance.

But he needed to know how far out he was sent before he could come up with any real calculations. The files he pulled up next were about an operation with Viper's squad. They were sent out to a known Raider location, three to five days out. That would put at least eight planets between them and the location. Eight being a loose term because classification on what was and wasn't a planet was always thrown around.

There were three fully established worlds between them and five smaller moons/satellites that orbited one dead world while the four others were just considered small moons.

Given rotation, location, probable flight patterns and speed, along with unnatural debris following their projected paths…

He sat back in his chair, his eyes wide as the computer did the calculations for him. But he already knew the answer. The computer produced the same logical answer.

"Six months…" He turned around slowly and looked at the door to his home. He could feel something on the other side of the door, waiting, watching, for its moment to strike. He removed the files and programs, sat back, and threw on some porn.

Six months till they get here. Whatever they are…

(-)

"You stupid fucker!"

Trig hit Sky Kid twice in the arm before he flinched and backed away, his hands up as if to ward her off. He was shorter than she was, which meant that wasn't going to happen either. Years of working with her made him aware of her childish temper tantrums, so this was nothing new to him.

Barnette stood in the kitchen diligently working and ignoring the plight of the male pilot. Her face was set on the food, but her eyes shone with puzzlement. She was thinking about something.

"Do you have any idea on why I'm angry at you?"

"PMS? Lack of sex?" She hit twice in the arm and he backed away slowly. "I sent you an email explaining what was wrong with Avalanche. I did the right thing!"

The black-haired pilot shook her head and started ranting at him again.

Barnette narrowed her eyes on the food as she slowly stirred the ground beef to make sure it was thoroughly cooked. She was working out how their machines worked, the last known day Avalanche was here, potential resources like food and water he'd have access to, and it didn't fully add up.

The human body - To her knowledge on the female physiology of her world. - could go three days without water. Avalanche was last seen a week ago, well within the standards for dehydration to take effect. But he was military, and wouldn't leave just from their docks on an important mission, meaning he had food and water prior to being found. He had to have left another ship, which would have given him two full days of food at the very least.

One to two days of rations could be rationed to last longer. Military trained people could survive off little for a time, making something like a day's worth of food and water last two or even three days at most with the right amount of discipline.

Supposing he left the ship after two days of travel, found something, came back, that left him with not enough time to suffer dehydration. The timeline didn't add up. Something else was up.

And then there was the random reply from Shamrock. "Regardless, all victories entitle naysayers, slanderers, and relativists equal footing, lowering your intellectual nature grievously." What did that mean? It was a bizarre statement and not something a normal person would say when a friend was in the hospital.

Then there was Trig's sudden displeasure, as if she had been smacked by something and forced to behave. Did she suddenly want to forget about the whole thing? She became happy for moments at a time, but would then constantly look over her shoulder, as if expecting some ghost to be behind her.

Barnette shut her eyes, repeating the words that Shamrock had said. When she opened her eyes, she scowled at herself and began stirring the meat again. It was starting to slowly burn.

The words hung in the back of her mind like an unwanted web. Was there another meaning behind the word?

The grease was draining from the meat and she started adding the seasonings and getting the sauce ready while the noodles finished cooking all the way through. "We have any fresh bread and garlic?"

"Yeah." Trig snapped around, turning away from the smaller pilot that was huddling in fear behind a chair as his fellow pilot moved to the kitchen to find the items in question. "Garlic bread?"

"Yeah. Homemade."

Trig arched a thin brow before returning to Sky Kid as he pleaded for mercy.

Barnette ignored them for a moment before her mind began to slowly process the words again. Shamrock's words, his actions, his entire change in demeanor. It was a hidden message. She found a pencil and a piece of paper to write down on. Taking the first letter from each word left her with the most confusing thing she'd ever seen. Ravens are flying?

"Hey, you two." She called out to them and motioned for them to come over. Sky Kid was hauled over like a child fearful of a beating he'd get from his parents. When Trig looked down at the message, she promptly let Sky Kid go and picked up the note. "What does that mean?"

Sky Kid swore as he looked at the thing while a trembling Trig quickly produced a lighter and burned the note. "Don't speak to anyone about that!" Trig ordered. Barnette leaned back blinking, her mouth agape as she tried to process that request. "I'm serious. Please. Don't look into that."

"What is it though? What does that mean?"

Sky Kid shut his eyes. "It means we're being watched."

Barnette looked to the burnt remains of the message and then out the window. Watched by who?