(05: The Halls Run Red With Blood)
A/N: For those who do not have a massive exposure to 24-hour time, the following applies:
2200 hours: 10 PM, 2215: 10:15 PM, and so on
2300 hours: 11 PM
0000 hours: midnight (12 AM)
0100 hours: 1 AM
0200 hours: 2 AM
0400 hours: my normal wakeup time
-x-x-x- 2200 hours –x-x-x-
"Reporting to relieve you, Athrun," Nicol says as the Blitz lands on the foredeck.
"Roger that, Nicol. You have the guard. Operations, this is X303 returning to hangar standby."
"Aegis, Captain Ramius, I confirm you are headed in. Grab a quick bite and a thermos of caffeine, pilot, you look like hell."
"Thanks, Cap'n." Athrun parked the Aegis in the first port-side maintenance cube and got out on the catwalk. There was nothing really difficult about the guard schedule as laid out by the Captain, though the whole issue had a double purpose of having a machine with a pilot on the foredeck at all times, and there were easily accessible places on the top of the ship where a Gundam could stand and not be shot by any of the ship's weapons. The Gottfried beam cannons had a maximum slew angle that was a lot more inconvenient in practice than in engineering…
Dearka and Yzak were up and awake in the cafeteria, preparing for their duty shift that would begin at 2400 hours, or at least that's what Athrun thought. The look in Yzak's eyes were telling enough that something was amiss. And he was still wearing that glove that he had come into possession of earlier in the day.
It was a result unlike anything they had expected prior. Not only was the whole of this magical mystery tour unexpected, but Yzak had just become part of the solution by extension. He had little doubt about his place in that solution, since he was still the pilot of the Duel and would not give that up for love nor money, but the fact that he had access to a magical melee weapon in the form of a blue-accented European-style broadsword made the issue all that much more real. Yzak was not trained on swords, but so far he appeared to be managing. Athrun had little doubt that in a level fight Umi could kick his ass, though.
The three girls were asleep, that much Athrun knew. They had a long and rather abusive day, especially Umi. When they got back to the ship, Athrun, Yzak, and Nicol literally had to help them back to their room, though an honest part of the pilots would admit that the toll had been just as bad on them as else, despite being military.
The real reason for their alertness and strange looks was just about obvious, as well. The warning signs were all over the place for anyone who wanted to observe. Some of the crew, maybe as many as 20, were readying to act. To what purpose was about as obvious as a coal pile next to Cleff's statue. This would be the Archangel's equivalent to the communist party takeover of the 1900s, and Athrun was defaulted to the side of the Czar of Russia. He had little doubt that some of the corridors of this ship would be run red with blood and slick with entrails; all he could hope was that in the shooting, nobody important was lost.
"You guys ready?"
"Nothin' to it, right?" Dearka asks, nodding his head.
"Simple enough. Just keep your eyes moving and try to stay awake." Athrun nods to them and heads over to the mess line. There was only a mechanic in it right now, who was 'shootin some bull' with the chef. The cooks were cool people, accustomed to the vagaries of pilots, and actually got along with the ZAFT personnel and the Lady Knights.
"How's it goin', pilot?"
"Guard duty still. What you got fast and fresh?"
"Turkey surprise, potatoes, carrots, and spinach."
"What's the surprise?" Athrun asks suspiciously.
"Y'know, I'm not really sure. I did take a picture of it before I butchered it, though, and it passed the analyzer tests for edibility, so…" The picture in question looked a lot like a Tribble from Star Trek, with a goofy face and eight spindly legs that ended in white poufs. (1)
"I'll pass on the turkey. Load me up on the rest."
"Hey! Nobody's died from it yet, and you'll enjoy it, trust me."
"He's right, Zala, that was pretty good stuff," Yzak half-shouts from the table across the way.
Athrun sighs; "It'll probably be the little things that end up killing me." He looks up from the counter surface, "All right, load me up."
"Enjoy."
Athrun took it back to the table where the ZAFT pilots were, and was accompanied not a minute later by Mu La Flaga. He had a massive thermos of coffee, and at a guess was probably going to be the duty officer for the bridge for the next eight hours, starting at or slightly after midnight. "How's it going, guys?"
"Man, you guys don't screw around with security measures," Yzak grumps. "Rotating guards, stationed personnel, all that happy shit. No wonder you're a pain in the ass to infiltrate and assault."
"I'd think ZAFT would do better, y'know?"
"Nah, you got us beat in the paranoia department by double, at least."
"You tried the Turkey Surprise?" Dearka asks, eyeing the serving line warily.
"Nah, I'm a bit afraid to."
"I think I'm brave enough to try…"
The crux of the conversation was not in the words, but the demeanor, Athrun could sense. They all knew something was going to go down, and they were readying themselves physically and mentally for it. The challenge would be high, but not insurmountable. Technically, since the Mobile Suits were all on the 'Czar' side of the equation, the greatest cards were held by Athrun and his friends. The enemy could force a no-win scenario by rendering the ship inop or killing personnel, but they had no real victory condition that they could easily win. Coordinators, especially military-trained and ready Coordinators, are something hard to kill on the best of days.
Surprisingly, the Turkey Surprise tasted really good, better than the average turkey loaf and a helluva lot better than combat rations.
-x-x-x- 2215 hours –x-x-x-
Kira's 'active duty' rotation was 0400 to 1600, twelve hours where he had to be within one minute of boarding his Gundam, but on the other hand the break room for the pilots was literally adjacent to the hangars. At 2200 hours, however, he was usually asleep, but he was still within two minutes of his Gundam in terms of absolute movement. It usually took him a minute or two to get into his pilot suit.
That ended abruptly when the bell on his door rang, signaling someone wanted to enter. Forewarned of the coming hazard, he reached up to the pistol between the two pillows he had on his bed and clicked the safety off. That much had taken hours of frustrating training on his own part; he was a greenhorn when it came to personal armed defense. "Who's there?"
"It's me, Kira. I need to talk to you," The voice that came through the speaker was that of Flay, who was becoming ever-the-more-clingy and difficult to get rid of when he just wanted some peace and quiet. He silently surmised that that was the untold side-effect of a personal relationship: they consume all, especially free time and money.
"C'mon in." Kira says wearily as he clicks the safety back on. Where it was had to be the safest place for it, unless Flay wanted to do something with him tonight… She stepped in and far enough forward to allow the door to close. "What's up?"
"Kira…well…do you know what this is?" The glove she showed him in the flashlight light gave off an eerie blue reflection.
"Yeah, it's a magic weapon, like what Umi and Yzak have."
"Eeeggghhh, that means I'm somehow linked to them?" She slumps visibly. "Why couldn't I be linked to you?"
"Like you need an excuse…" Kira mutters.
"What was that?" In an accusatory tone.
"Nothing important. Okay, put it on over your left hand."
Flay does so; the gem glimmers faintly. "Kinda tacky, really."
"Fashion and combat are mutually exclusive. Anyway, hold your right hand over the gem, and pull it up and away."
The result was a blue flash of light, and in the flashlight ray she was suddenly holding a kodachi, and an ornate one at that. The hilt was deep sea blue with a pair of sapphires inlaid in the guard, and the handle was blue with a white ray-skin wrapping in the traditional style, and the pommel was capped with an aquamarine gem. "Whoa! But…it's short."
"Umi's sword isn't all that long, either. Yzak has the longest between you three, but not by much. Here, may I?" Kira holds out his hand for the blade; Flay does pass it over. After it touches his hand, it turns to water and falls to the ground, then reforms. "Well, that was weird." He tries again, and gets the same effect. "Okay, then, I guess I can't touch it."
Flay reclaims her blade. "And what do I do if I don't need it any more?"
"I saw the girls just take it and press it into the gem on their glove."
Flay tries it, and it disappears into the gem in energy form. "Oh, this is so weird. I don't know the first thing about sword fighting."
"For that, you'd be best to talk to Hikaru or Umi. I pilot Gundams, my only involvement with swords is the beam sabers on Aile or the Schewrt Gewehr on Sword."
"That's better than I know." Flay sits down on the edge of his bed and lays down more or less on top of the covers over him. "So, do you think this means I have magic now? How do I use it?"
"You're definitely asking the wrong person about that." Kira says with obviously feigned disgust. As far as he was concerned, magic was about the same to him as asking a six-year-old kid to understand and apply quantum physics.
"Man, Kira, you're just no fun to needle. But you are fun to play with…"
"Flay…" No sense resisting, he figured, since she had to sleep sometime as well. And for any shortfall of sleep he had, there was always his good friend caffeine.
-x-x-x- 2225 hours –x-x-x-
Given that the Gundams now ran a 24-hour schedule, so did the mechanics for the Gundams. When there was a machine unused, the mechanics were rabidly working it over, making sure it was in proper condition to operate at any given time. After five days now, they had it down to an art, and could often do the external inspection and cleaning long before it finished recharging from its time out in service. When the pilot was off-duty, that is when the machine went through the full internal checks.
Due to the frequency and voracity of monster attacks, all the machines were kept under full arms at all times, including both Skygraspers with Launcher Strike pack sets (the Archangel only had three of each of the packs, including the new IWSP and Lightning Striker packs). Recovering the packs in usable condition was a high priority, but nobody maintained illusions here: better the pack than the Gundam, and better the machines than the lives that piloted them. Keeping them armed gave a ration of consternation to the 'tin-foil-hat-crew', the paranoids that believed the ZAFT personnel would try to subvert or destroy the ship. Ahem. They'd had hours to do that, in transit to the home of the second Rune God, and nobody had done anything violent yet.
Sai and Kuzzey were down in the bay, watching the Aegis get put through the external inspection at the same time the Buster was being closed up from its full internal inspection. They had found out that all five machines had been designed so that a full internal inspection could be made without invasive techniques: every component and frame structure could be accessed from at least two maintenance accesses, and the armor sections were easily removed if needed. It reminded Sai a lot of some of the fluff text for an ancient boardgame, Battletech, where some units were known to be cranky for maintenance and some a breeze. If anything, Sai was really thankful they were not stuck somewhere in Battletech: getting repair components would be easy, but taking down a Battlemech, which had its heavy weapons mounted internally and behind a lot of armor, would have been a grade-A bitch. Sai had little doubt the Gundam would win, but the question remained how much damage they took before the battle was over.
"So, what's the betting look like? Us or Zagato?"
"Right now, betting is in favor of Zagato's team," Sai says, sighing. "Not that it would matter in the end, the only way to claim would be in the afterlife."
"Funny." Kuzzey shrugs, looking down into the bays that were empty. "It's strange, really, y'know? This ship was built to carry a dozen Mobile Suits and two fighters, and has seven by fiat. We had three when we left Aube. What was the Alliance thinking?"
"The same thing ZAFT was. Mass-produced suits. They just didn't have them set up yet, since the five here were prototypes, and good ones at that. Too costly to mass produce."
"Could you imagine an army of Strike Gundams? Kiss any opposition goodbye." Kuzzey does the usual motion of blowing a kiss, which elicits a wave and shout from Umi, who was still awake amazingly. Kuzzey quite immediately and thoroughly blushed when he realized what he had done.
"Nice. In one accidental stroke you're already ahead of the Duel pilot in that race." Sai returns the wave for Kuzzey, and Umi ducks into one of the personnel elevators, headed up to the catwalk they were on.
"So, how're you getting along with Flay?" Kuzzey asks to take the heat off himself.
"I'm not." Sai replies deadpan. "I've already lost and I accept that. Kira's just got too much airhead mystique in him for me to compete."
Kuzzey had to suppress a riotous laugh at that thought. "Y'know, a year ago I would'a' sworn up and down Kira was a normal guy doing the normal things. I never imagined that he was some sort of super-elite Coordinator that could reprogram and use a machine he's never touched before, much less to fight in a war against other Coordinators."
"Kinda sucks, too. He's still a nice guy, but the battle has done some things to him. He ain't the same person as he was when he walked into Kato's engineering lab." The elevator had arrived at their level, and Umi was seen stepping off. "Your turn. Later."
"Wha—crap."
"What's goin' on?" Umi asks as the internal access door closes behind Sai.
"Nothin'. Just loungin' between shifts, watchin' the mechanics work." Umi nods and leans over the rail, looking down at the activity below. "What were you doing?"
"Oh, couldn't sleep." Umi sighs; "Everything's happening so fast. Doesn't it worry you?"
"No, not as much as it going slow." Kuzzey was trying to avoid looking in her direction, if nothing else to avoid blushing. "If we stop or slow down, we become a target."
"Oh. I never thought of it that way."
"Hmm." The thought wasn't even his, it was something that Murrure and Mu had been discussing after the battle in the Water Shrine. Kuzzey shoves such thoughts out of his mind; the strategy of the battle is the Captain's issue, not his. "What were you doing…before you came here?"
"I was on a school field trip to Tokyo Tower. You do know what that is, right?"
"Yeah, it's one of the few Industrial-age or prior monuments that survive in my time. Supposed to be a beautiful tourist attraction, looking out over old Tokyo."
"You've never been there?"
"No. I was born in a space colony and never left there." He smirks, thinking about Heliopolis before it became a short-lived and incredibly violent battlefield. "I really never intended on leaving Heliopolis, either. Until it was destroyed in a battle."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. Aube will eventually rebuild it, and I will be able to go back to it. If we survive this nightmare."
Umi stomps her right foot, which resounded quite clearly in the steel plates below her. "I will not tolerate you talking like that! We can win and we will go home! Think positive!" She humphs rather exasperatedly and storms into the ship proper; Kuzzey could not tell if it was an act or if he had inadvertently pissed her off. Either way, he could not help but note that he had an excellent way with pissing off ladies, he did it to Mir and Natarle all the time without even trying.
-x-x-x- 2240 hours –x-x-x-
In homage to the Murphy's Laws of Combat, the action began 20 minutes before the slated start time, in an accidental encounter that turned very bloody very fast. 'No plan ever survives contact' combined with 'Exceptions prove the rule—and destroy the plan'.
Mu had been patrolling corridors in and around the levitator when he came across a small formation of them. Unlike the others against the conspiracy, he had specifically made sure he had an assault rifle with him at this time, and when he came across them he fired first, since anyone under arms right now would be on the wrong side of the operation.
The corridors of the Archangel chattered and echoed with the sound of an assault rifle, as the four assailants took four or more rounds apiece of armor-piercing ammunition, designed to go through body armor. Mu slung two of the rifles over his back, picked up a fragmentation grenade they had, and four extra magazines before departing the scene post haste.
An alarm went off in the bridge, signaling that gunfire had occurred within the ship proper. Murrue nodded to Sai, who had just entered the bridge, and then pulled her own pistol. She trusted the bridge crew; nobody on the bridge right now would be part of the conspiracy against her or the Magic Knights.
The sound made it to the cafeteria, where the three ZAFT pilots were at still. As soon as they heard it, they upended their table, oriented it toward the door, and armed their weapons. The cooks were well past surprised, as were the two mechanics and one ship's crew in there, but nothing was really said about it.
Hikaru stirred slightly at the noise. Fuu had been wide awake at the time, and immediately recognized it for what it was. She, of all three the Lady Knights, knew that part of the crew was planning a mutiny and she was part of the equation—the part that was expected to be shot. Silently, she drew her sword and readied; she never even began to dream that she would have to take a human life to get this done, excepting Zagato, but the rules just changed again.
Umi ducked into a storage closet, where another member of the crew was hiding from the gunshots. Kuzzey wasn't far behind, and suddenly the closet took on a very crowded air…
Natarle heard the gunshots, and prepared to do what she had to do.
Kira and Flay were too engrossed in kissing to notice the gunshots.
-x-x-x- 2245 hours -x-x-x-
"This is bullshit. We're ass-deep in a dying world and all they can think about is their god-damned Blue Cosmos beliefs. This sucks."
"Don't bother repeating it, Dearka," Athrun says testily.
"Hey, kids, here." One of the cooks was out from behind the serving counter, and had set up a light machine gun on the rim of the table.
"Hey, whoa, I didn't know you—"
"I do more than just cook." (2) The sound of the bolt going back and forward was a lot louder than any of them expected. It was even the same caliber as the Earth Alliance standard assault rifle, but belt-fed and monster. "Happiness is a belt-fed weapon, kids. Keep that in mind next time you go out."
"Right, sure, Mr. Psycho," Dearka chants drolly, still focusing on the door more than else.
"They come." They let the first one in for free; the second of them took four in the chest from the light machine gun, then the first was expertly dropped with two shots from Yzak, one in the left eye, one in the center of his forehead, and one in the left cheek from Athrun. The third guy was not in the room yet, so he ducked out of the way, but not before taking a round in the right forearm, causing him to drop his pistol.
A fourth stuck his assault rifle around the door jamb and unloaded a magazine wildly. None of the rounds hit, but the fact that he tried had their attention. The cook was back up and braced after the enemy pulls back to reload, and he gets an idea based on the fact that the halls of the Archangel were all technically armored. With a little estimation on his part, he aims to a certain point on the wall opposite the door that was contested, and begins firing one long, continual burst. All four of them could see the rounds sparking off the wall, eating the paint up like it wasn't even there, and they could hear the rounds sailing in every direction. It didn't take more than thirty rounds before they heard a loud, tortured scream and the guy with the assault rifle collapsed into view of the cafeteria persons, a round having transited the forward part of his head from right to left and creating a massive mess.
"Oh, shit, Kenny!" The other guy says. "You killed Kenny, you bastards!" (3)
Yzak had the last: he switched his pistol over to his left hand and drew his new weapon, the broadsword. Though some would lament it, the first time the sword would be used would be in defense of his life against a terrorist. As Yzak approached the door, he checked down the corridor to verify nobody else was coming, then rounded the door frame and went in. The range to the enemy was two meters, and a simple thrust put the sword through his chest halfway up to the hilt, including through the body armor.
"Clear left!" Dearka shouts as he verifies the hallway was clear in that direction.
"Clear right," the cook shouts as he sweeps that direction.
"Attention all hands, this is Captain Ramius. There are rogue personnel on the ship at this time, attempting to subvert the ship, damage critical systems and/or kill personnel. All crewmembers are advised to avoid traveling throughout the ship until I announce an all-clear. All involved personnel, initiate 'fastbreak'. That is all."
"You heard her. Time to get to work."
-x-x-x- 2250 hours -x-x-x-
"Archangel, Blitz, what's going on in there?"
"The mutiny has begun, Blitz. Hold your position. You know what to do," Murrue says.
"Yeah, if the shit hits, I take the girls and walk."
"You and any other Gundams that can be evacuated," She notes coldly. The initiated operation 'fastbreak' was just such an operation; get the pilots, get the Magical Knights, and get them the hell off the Archangel until the matter was settled.
The link went silent for a few moments. "What was the purpose anyway? Why the war?"
"You're asking the wrong person, Nicol," Murrue notes drolly. It was a question she had been asked more than once, but without an answer she had none to give. The worst was when she had to shunt aside the question from one of the Gundam pilots, they were the ones out on the front line doing the dirty work and she didn't have a damn good reason for it. "You know, Nicol, that may be it."
"Huh? You lost me."
"There may be no real reason to the war. Sure, at the beginning they may have had reason, but not now I guess."
The door beeps three times. "Murrue, it's me." The voice was that of Mu La Flaga.
"Check it." The door was breach-sealed right now, to prevent access in or out even (theoretically) by force. Sai turns on the security monitors and checks; Mu was alone, but had three assault rifles.
"He's alone."
Murrue unlocks and opens the door. Mu steps in, loaded for bear and ready for battle. "Here." He passes one rifle to Newman, and one to Murrue. After he was inside, Murrue reseals the door.
"How's it going?"
"I got one, and saw evidence of another group downed outside of the cafeteria. I haven't seen any of the pilots or the Lady Knights. I think I saw Flay enter Kira's quarters, which means he may be in there."
"I am not going to say anything." Murrue says, more to herself than else; the fact that she had said that much constituted a comment on that situation regardless of intent.
The door beeps again. "Captain, this is Crewman Ridders with three. I have wounded out here and need help attending to them. Can you spare two persons?"
Murrue looks to Sai, who looks to the monitors again. He looks back to her and shakes his head definitively. She takes stance, and without any hesitation yanks one of the grenades off Mu's belt. She goes through the motions of arming it, though she leaves the lever in place, so as to not set the timer. With her right hand she reaches back and opens the blast shield, then nods to Sai to open the door. When it does, Murrue tosses the grenade out into the hall and trips the blast shield to close again.
There was a bit of unreality to it. They heard the blast, they even saw the blast shield flinch from it, but other than that, nothing. No massive movie bullshit, no fireball, just the blast and that was that.
"Sai?" Mu asks.
"Got three of them. The fourth is limping away." Crack crack. "Not any more." He did grimace; even if it was on the security monitors, he still just witnessed someone die. As to who shot him…
"Wait, wait, was that Natarle?" Murrue asks, shocked by what she thought she saw. "Rewind that, Sai."
He did, and the shooter was indeed Natarle. "Does this constitute a frag, or is she on our side?" Mu asks.
"I don't know. She was all up my rear about proper military protocol, but now…"
"Wait," Sai says, "Look." He taps the screen just below her left hand.
"No frigging way. That's…"
More shooting could be heard echoing throughout the hall before Mu could complete the sentence.
-x-x-x- 2255 hours -x-x-x-
The way they had set up their move and fire plans meant that the fourth group should be converging on the Lady Knights' quarters right now, given the offset in start times. A frag grenade was out of the question; she could not tell if the girl's room was open right now or not, but one of the guys down the way was furiously trying to hack the control panel with a maintenance card and guessing the passwords. That told Natarle that they were not in yet, but out of courtesy to the room occupants she would do it the 'quiet' way.
Natarle brings her pistol back behind her right leg and clicks the safety off, to prevent it from being heard. She wanted to make sure she had everything stealth until she jumped them. When next she peeks around the corner slowly, she notices that they were all facing the wrong way. This was the time to act.
She charged around the corner, armed with both a blade and her pistol. As she ran in she fired the pistol as best as she could, but her aimpoint was jumping from hell to breakfast and back courtesy of her stride. She hit two of them in the body armor, one in the arm, and missed completely the fourth. Her weapon locked open, empty, before she even got to them, but that is what the blade was for. While still running, she dropped aside the pistol and changed the blade from her left hand to the right, giving her the advantage in the close quarters of a ship's hallway.
When in close, her first action is to take off the arm of the nearest of the tangos. Her saber went up and through his forearm, then out into the air gap between his arm and chest, then into the side of his chest and up through his shoulder blade and finally out the top of his shoulder. A completely clean cut that removed a chunk of his body as well as his arm; not a scream, nothing but wide-eyed shock as he fell aside to the ground. The sword, now headed upward, came down onto the next tango after gouging through the ceiling of the corridor, this time the blade passed downward through the tango's helmet and she had to 'saw' it out of his head with a draw-back stroke. Needless to say the aforementioned enemy was dead before he hit the ground. Not really by intention, as the sword went backwards from the draw-stroke, it chopped through the left leg of the guy trying to hack his way into the room, instantly taking him out of the fight as he hit the ground separate from his left lower leg that was detached just above the knee.
The fourth tango, one that had taken a shot in the body armor and was feeling it, tossed his rifle at the feet of their assailant and put his hands up in the classic 'I surrender' fashion. Foregoing chopping his head off, she produced a set of handcuffs to use on him.
"Up slow, face against this wall. Now." The enemy did as ordered rather meekly, since her sword was still dripping wet with blood. The third of their ranks had quit shrieking and squirming, slowing down from blood loss and shock. The other two were down and if not immediately dead then close enough.
"What the hell? I thought you were on our side!"
"That ended when Blue Cosmos entered this equation."
"This is bullshit," the thus-unnamed engine mechanic says. "You'll die with those Coordinator scum and these freak-girls, mark my words."
"Life and death mean less than duty." Natarle says as she keys in her officer override on the control panel. It unlocks the door audibly; she then hits the intercom button. "Fuu, Hikaru, Umi, this is Natarle. I'm coming in. I have one prisoner from the enemies."
She jambs her thumb into the door manual open button, and it opens…to where Natarle was staring down Fuu's exceptionally long sword at a distance of no more than a third of a meter. "Who…whose side are you on?"
"Probably my own." She finches her sword at the tango. "You, in here, move slow. Anything stupid and you will lose your head."
"What the hell is this?" He asks but walks in slowly. Hikaru and Fuu were both in there, dressed and armed, but Umi was missing.
"Cuff your arms around the bedpost. Now." Natarle drops the handcuffs next to one of the posts.
"This is illegal! You can't do this—Eeeggh!" He chokes when the tip of her sword comes to rest a matter of a centimeter from his nose.
"Do you want your head attached at the end of the day?"
"Well…yes?"
"Then do as ordered. I may be able to talk the Captain out of executing you, but if you don't cooperate you will be executed. Clear?"
"Aye, ma'am." He picks up the handcuffs and dutifully uses them to secure himself to Hikaru's bedpost. He wasn't going anywhere now, since the post was attached to both floor and ceiling.
"Get your gear together and follow me. Be fast about it." Natarle draws the tango's pistol and arms it, then holsters the weapon. Her saber went into the glove on her left hand—
"No way! You're part of the link with Umi? Why didn't you tell us?" Hikaru asks in a rush.
"Because I was in no position to," Natarle says in a very frustrated tone.
"What? I do not understand," Fuu notes.
"If I had said anything prior to now, these maggots would have shot me peremptorily." She jerks her thumb at the handcuffed enemy.
"You're damn straight we would have!"
"Don't give me an excuse to behead you," Natarle says darkly. He grimaced at that, but said no more.
"I'm ready." Hikaru says, yet she had not disappeared her sword. Fuu had, however, and was getting the last of her survival pack ready.
"Follow me." Natarle thumbs open the door and looks around outside in the corridor and was content with what she saw: just a whole lot of dead people. Not pleased, per se, since the fact that these were highly trained and otherwise human persons that she had downed, but the necessity of the task had become infinitely clear over the hours past.
Out in the corridor, they both gasped. Natarle figured they would be less than human—or quite possibly superior to all other Humans—if they didn't react. One without an arm and a chunk of his shoulder; one with his head split in half; one without a leg from mid-thigh down, having bled a river down the hall, the carnage was something a professional soldier rarely saw unless they were assigned to the front lines. Natarle was Special Forces; she was trained to be very disciplined, but looking back on her own handiwork still turned her stomach. The necessity of the matter did not always dovetail with the execution, nor did it correlate to her personal feelings.
Natarle led them fast toward the hangar, on the theory that the enemy would not realize that Murrue's plan was to evacuate the Gundams and personnel if necessary. Right now the enemy had lost on all their objectives, and anything they could hope to accomplish would be petty vandalism and damaging equipment. Two halls away, they got to the corridor that led to the pilot's break room—
"Shit!" Someone shouts in the opposite direction Natarle was looking, and when she reverses her viewpoint it was just enough time to drive herself backwards into Hikaru and force her out of the line of fire.
The burst mostly missed them. Mostly; Natarle went backwards and ended up collapsing backwards. Two rounds had entered her torso, one breaking her fourth rib and splintering badly, another below the floating rib that had gone straight through. Two more rounds hand entered her left hip and broke it badly; a fifth round had got the center of her left thigh, and the round had enough force and penetration behind it that it want through and into her right leg.
"G—go back…now…" Natarle barely manages to say, as she tries to prop herself against the wall. In the process, she strips off her glove and sits on it, on the off-chance that they would not shoot her again.
"But—"
"Now…go…bridge." Natarle's consciousness fades.
Hikaru and Fuu double back, but it only lasted about five seconds before a cook carrying a belt-fed machine gun crossed into the hallway, followed shortly by Mu and Dearka, then Athrun and Yzak.
"Get down!" Mu shouts, and both Magic Knights crouch down on pure reaction. The cook unloads ten rounds downrange, followed by Mu putting a pair of three round bursts down the hall and Dearka firing several single shots.
The main shooting done, Dearka, Yzak, and the cook all move down the hall toward the threat direction. Mu and Athrun move to Natarle. "Doesn't look good." Mu checks her for a pulse, and finds one. "She's still alive, though."
"Whose side is she on?"
"Her own, probably." Mu looks back to Fuu. "Can you help her?"
"Yes." Fuu applies her hand to Natarle's uninjured shoulder. "Winds of Healing!"
It visibly stopped the bleeding, but apparently did not handle all the damage in one shot. "At least she won't bleed out now." Athrun notes.
Mu wasn't paying attention to her at present. "Murrue, Mu. How many more?"
"All ship monitors show clear, all duty stations report no activity. We may have got them all. How's your end?"
"I have two of the Magic Knights and three of the pilots."
"Mu—we have a problem. Someone's trying to break into Kira's room. Can you get there?"
"Moving now! Make sure you radio if someone else shows up." He clicks his radio off. "Yzak, Dearka, protect these three. Get them into your Gundams and await orders."
"Yeah," Yzak says with a neutral inflection, which Mu interpreted that he still wasn't comfortable with taking orders from an Alliance officer.
"I'm coming with you," Athrun says as he picks up an assault rifle.
-x-x-x- 2300 hours -x-x-x-
"Kira, I'm scared…"
"Don't worry, Flay." Kira clicks the safety off his pistol and aims about a half-meter inside the door, awaiting the inevitable.
The door slides open about two seconds before a loud tearing sound comes to mind, one that generated a lot of blood on the frame of Kira's door. One had gotten in, but he was looking out the door and not at the room occupants, at least until he checked his surroundings and noticed Kira had a pistol pointed at his head. "Oh, crap," he says after he realizes what had happened to him.
"Put it down," Kira says simply; the enemy does comply after a moment.
"Hey, kid, you all right in there?" Mu asks from next to the doorway.
"Yeah, he's dropped his weapon."
"Can I come in?"
"Sure." Mu steps in, immediately centering his assault rifle on the enemy and not taking it off him. From Mu's expression, he couldn't figure out something… "What's up, Commander?"
"I thought I saw Flay come in here earlier tonight."
"She did," Kira replies deadpan.
"All right, asshole, up slow, hands behind your head." Mu was now basically directly behind the insurgent, and he did as ordered. "Sorry 'bout the mess, Kira. We're going to be in transit for several days, so you'll have plenty of time to clean up."
"Thanks." Kira's voice held no trace of emotion.
"Start walking;" Mu spikes the guy in the back with the barrel of his assault rifle to emphasize the point.
It only took thirty seconds before Kira could hear no trace of them. Strangely, the door had not closed; Kira figured one of the sensors had been coated with blood. He stood up, rummaged in a box next to his book rack that held cleaning supplies, and pulled out a cloth rag and surface cleaner. With a bit of work, he was able to remove most of the traces of blood from the frame so his door would shut. The rest he would get tomorrow morning.
"It's safe, Flay." After a few moments, Flay wanders out of Kira's latrine and back into his bed.
"This makes no sense. Why now are they trying to kill you—us—them?"
"I don't know." Kira laid back down and cuddled up with Flay. He may have objected to their relation on a few levels, but the comfort was worth more than the propriety of the matter…or the morality. Having someone want to kill you and they failed just because they were looking the wrong way was not the most endearing of feelings. And sometimes, a person just needed the comfort after such a problem.
-x-x-x- 2330 hours -x-x-x-
The word got around the ship in a hurry. The rebellion had failed. The ship was still in the Captain's hands. No damage had been incurred to the ship (worth mentioning). No personnel had been killed.
When the Captain called an all-hands assembly (excepting the doctor and Natarle, and the pilots), everyone showed up out of respect for the Captain or fear of her wrath. Murrue figured it inevitable, but unjustified. She had to do what she had to do to save the ship, because the ship can't be run by any less than 95 personnel, and right now they were standing right at that, not including the pilots, Lady Knights, or bridge crew. The mechanics would have to scale back on working on the machines to keep the ship proper from falling apart. And she certainly can't save the ship when there are terrorists aboard, trying to sabotage the ship, undermine command authority, or kill personnel.
"All right, people, I'm only going to say this once. If you don't believe in trying to save this world, Cephiro, is the path to getting ourselves home, I don't want you on this ship. It is that simple. You all know what the past hour has been about, and I don't need to tell you which side you should be on. Decide within the next six hours whose side you are on. You may leave the ship without prejudice if you so choose; you will be issued an assault rifle and survival gear, and we will take actions to avoid injury to you to during any upcoming battles, but it ends there. Any questions?"
There were no questions.
"All personnel dismissed. Report to the bridge within the next six hours if you believe you can no longer remain on this ship."
-x-x-x- 0000 hours –x-x-x-
"You think it's safe to get out now?"
"I haven't heard any gunshots for a long time, I guess its safe now," Kuzzey says in a tone that made it sound like he was trying to convince himself of that as much as Umi.
"Good. I'm starting to get a cramp in my leg," the mechanic notes.
"How do you open this door from the inside?" Umi asks, since she was the one nearest it right now.
"The lighted panel next to your right hand, press the pink button."
She presses the button, then collapses backwards as the door slid away and took away her support. Kuzzey piles out next, sprawled out on the floor next to Umi, and the Mechanic manages to vault clear of the room without stomping on either of them.
"Holy crap, it's so nice to breathe!" Kuzzey says in a very exasperated voice. The temperature of the room had elevated quickly with three people in it, and sometime around the third group of shooting it had become so hot that simply standing around was making all three of them sweat.
"That was not very amusing. Still, beats the hell out of getting shot."
"I may never look at my bedroom closet the same way again," Umi says exasperatedly.
"You know, I don't think I want to know what was going on in there." Miriallia shines a flashlight into the room, then clicks it off and shrugs. "Oh, the Captain is looking for you three. Better report to the bridge."
-x-x-x- 0530 hours -x-x-x-
Nautical twilight had begun, just as they came to the next continent in their journey. Murrue had them land the ship 1 kilometer inland from the sea's edge to disembark the dissenters.
Five had decided that they did not want any part of what Murrue had to do. The rest of the crew had made it quite clear that they had come this far, they'd follow Murrue into the bowels of Hell if necessary. Most were already disenchanted with the Earth Alliance; the rest weren't far behind. It was the die-hards that decided they weren't going to play with the Captain, so the Captain had voted them off the ship. End of story.
They had assembled at the personnel / small vehicle entrance in the hangar and were awaiting the Captain's final appearance. She had arrived more or less on time, and two of the duty mechanics had two crates with them.
"All right, you five have decided to completely break with the ship. I'll report that to the brass…if we ever get to Alaska. No prejudice, as I said; these two crates are yours. Take 'em and start walking." Two of the five were the ones captured alive during the fighting, the other three were fresh…and displeased.
They did as ordered, taking the crates out of the Archangel and not looking back.
That left one task for the ship to do before continuing on their operations. Kira had volunteered, despite the fact that he was one of the persons at hazard of being killed in the rebellion. Out on the ground, not far from where they landed, the Strike had dug twenty neat graves with its hands, one for each of the crewmembers that had dissented and died in the trying. Technically they deserved no such accolade, but the Captain could not stomach just dumping them overboard over a foreign ocean. A few spare mechanics had helped position the bodies, and Kira finished closing the graves up.
Author's Chapter Afterword:
Blood, blood, guts, and more blood.
I don't really know what insane part of me decided to make the link between the original Magic Knight and the others a four-way link, but at the end of the day, it might be amusing. At the least, it shocked Natarle out of her denial, and may get Flay to do something more than just cling to Kira, scared crapless most the time. Now, how to integrate them into the battles…
Natarle survived the shots she took, barely, and mostly thanks to Fuu's healing ability. Surviving, however, was only the beginning, as she's going to be laid up for a few days and unable to do anything major until she's recovered most of her use of her legs. As to her status vis-à-vis the Magic Knights, well, suffice it to say she's going to have to prove she's on the level to the ZAFT soldiers before they'll respect her. The bodies they found, however, have already put her up two points despite Nicol having puked out twice after encountering that bloodbath. There is something about seeing someone's wig split by a sword that just does those things to people.
Now, one thing that most people don't get about body armor is that body armor is not a cure-all for gunshots and frag. Most body armor is not spec'd to stop a 30-caliber round except beyond 150 yards. Most assault rifles use a thirty-caliber round, or worse, a .223-caliber round that is both more penetrating and more unpredictable in close quarters. Thus, the net effects of the shooting that Mu and the crazy cook did are on par, not even counting the armor-piercing ammo. Add that into the equation, and the close-quarters battles get real bloody real fast. The catch is, the AP ammo was all held by Murrue's faction, since Mu figured (correctly) that something like this would happen eventually. So, what Natarle got shot with was common sub-machine gun rounds, not assault rifle rounds, else she would likely have been killed faster than Fuu could have healed her.
Note that I am not above killing main or secondary characters. Natarle got lucky this time; next time she may not get that luxury, and the same applies to any other persons that swing their bums out in the breeze. Battles (and my set of dice) do weird things, especially to heroes.
Next up: Ascot and Caldena get an education in why you do not piss off elite military personnel and expect to get away with it…
Footnotes: (Long overdue for anyone who read this prior)
(1): I got this idea from an 'advertisement' picture in the game Postal 2: Share The Pain. In the mall, the animal shop, on the wall to the right of the counter is a picture of it, with the caption 'strange thing found out back in the alley' or something approximating that. The price tag listed is a bargain, provided it doesn't try eating your arse. Too bad you can't actually buy it in the game.
(2): Props to anyone who can guess which movie this one was inspired by.
(3): It's been at least five years since I've seen South Park, but I still couldn't resist this one.