Disc

Phase 06: Trust

- - -

"I cannot be manufactured, bought, sold, found, or repaired. I am a more valuble substance than platinum or neutron energy, and yet I, like my opposite am more infinite than carbon atoms. What am I?" –A riddle from the archives of the lost ship Sanctuary

- - -

The color scheme of the Mobile Suit called Rana contrasted sharply with the dusky red planet now spread beneath it. Spreading both arms, and the suit's by association, its pilot felt gravity's embrace with more than a little anxiety.

She was young for a military pilot. Her short, dark brown hair only avoided contact with the static-charged plastic helmet she wore due to it being fit into a ponytail of equal length dangling down the back of her beige flight-suit. As the stronger G-forces took effect, she could not help but wince at feeling the tail crushed by the rapid shifting of her back, forced into a hunched posture by her iron grip on the arm troughs as she wondered if she would ever get used to this new machine.

Finally, she opened her shaken eyes again and surveyed the approaching landscape beneath her on the mains screen. Nothing but red dust and the odd terrace appeared, prompting her to slide both legs forward with all her strength, desperately fighting the air resistance the whole way down.

That would be a great way to land, she mused to herself just as she completed the landing without error, thanks to the pressure-sensitive plates that encased her legs. On this planet, it would do a lot more than just skin my knees to land with them outstretched.

"Nicely done, Rana", a voice issued not from her helmet or the machine's own systems, but from everywhere at once. "Any problems holding it steady?"

"No, surprisingly", she answered just as quickly. While she had spent enough time aboard Exodus colony to erase most traces of her Waltherian accent, a small hint of it's French origin always separated her speech from the ordinary men and women of Shyron. It was a little embarrassing, even if she knew it really shouldn't be. "The pressure sensors were an excellent idea- these arms and legs work almost like they're mine, but they're a bit twitchy."

"There should be a sensitivity control somewhere above the top window screen. Twist it to change the settings, but not now. Are you up for the rest of the exercise, Rana?"

Sure enough, if she craned her neck all the way back, she could make out a black foam-coated knob, poking out between the pressure pads. "Give me a moment."

She was able to spend a minute rechecking just how sensitive the machine was. The control stick of a Valkyrie jet did not require one to be aware of all their limbs at all times, whereas this 'Mobile Suit', as her instructors called it, would respond even if her legs or hands just idly drummed or tapped, or even if she turned her head or bent over.

Still, admitting that her vision was swimming before her even in the simulators would probably only be taken as a sign of weakness. It was a proven fact that several of the Shyron Valkyrie pilots resented her being one of the those chosen for practice exercises with Admiral Temeritus' newest toys, even if she was a better pilot than they. Hiding weaknesses and anxieties within, however, was something she had become an expert on.

"Xain's already started the second phase", her supervisor reminded her gently. "Hyrcanian has two confirmed kills with its artillery already."

"All right, fine", she blurted, inwardly praying that she hadn't called down too much of a challenge for an unfamiliar machine. Almost immediately, both sensors and sight saw a string of black dots against the Martian sky, translating into at least ten small aircraft of extreme fragility and speed. Underlining those were seven long treaded vehicles, each carrying a modest pair of LRAM missiles pointed diagonally to the sky above.

Wrist-mounted laser scope rifle. EMS Head Crystal. Blast-resistant 'tower' shield, and a 'Beam Glaive', whatever that is. I saw many options on the real machines, but for now, best to stick with what I know.

Leaping behind a short ridgeline for a bit of cover, the long laser scope weapon flashed out of the left wrist guard and through the slit in the tall tower shield to take careful aim on the first aircraft like a modern sniper. "Fehn Bickham, Rana, engaging!"

- - -

Umil stood first, his normally flat-spread hair standing up partway in what under other circumstances would have been comical. "He's gone completely nuts", he spoke to the frozen image of their friend. "You both see it, right?"

Downcast from doubt, Troy instead turned and watched Elya's own reaction to the message. As the screen went blank and the Haro bounced back into her arms, she held it tightly as a precious jewel. "Stressed, maybe. But he knows what he wants to do. I think… that I, too, have lost the drive for creating lethal weapons, at least for now. We'd never succeed without Bryce anyway."

The short boy's face paled further still, realizing he was in the minority here. "You can't be serious! I suppose you want to go along with his ridiculous plan to destroy the backup data as well?"

That one's a tougher decision to make, Troy realized quickly, standing stock-straight. We do that, we won't just get fired from our jobs at DES. More likely, we'll be put up on charges of collaboration, and I doubt we would be able to count on any compassion from Bryce's dad Jakob, or from Anno Domino itself.

"Umil does have a point here, El", he spoke up, stopping a blossoming argument between the other two; although it did feel satisfying to have her shouting at someone else for a change. "He's also requested our secrecy. We're supposed to destroy all design data on the MS, and then not say who told us to do it?"

Seeing the two boys now united against her, she rolled the blue Haro around in her palms for a moment, sparing them any more grieving venom, for once looking thoughtful instead of merely optimistic or pessimistic. "I guess what it all comes down to… is who we value more. Who's trust we value more, I mean."

"One person we'll never see again versus everyone who matters on Earth", Umil commented steely. "No question for me."

"That's right. You never liked him did you? Can't get over the fact that his dad-"

"Enough", Troy shouted, again breaking their animosity. "I believe the title is Supplementary Chief. I'm that, and I say this is too big a decision to make in one morning. Umil, can we trust you not to run screaming bloody murder to the closest Anno Domino officer during lunch?"

The younger boy was clearly taken aback, previously contented with the belief that Troy supported his view. Eyes downcast, he paused a long while before saying: "You can. I don't want to get in any trouble… but I don't want you to get into trouble either. I'll stay quiet until we've decided, but I can tell you now, chief, I'm not changing my mind on this."

"Same here", Elya piped up to Umil's face with equal determination. "I guess that leaves it to you- Bryce's best friend."

Troy's usual confident grin turned nauseous almost immediately. "Yeahhhh. Thanks for reminding me." And here I was thinking being the number two guy was easy…

He had a lot of thinking to do, and would not be able to eat anything until he was done.

- - -

"It worked beautifully, Admiral", Xain spoke to his uncle-in-law, unable to hide his excitement after the day's piloting exercises were one. "Six aerial kills, four ground kills before they got me... And that was only the third run!"

They were not, as his tone might have implied, standing in Temeritus' private office, going over the data gathered on the first day of simulations. Rather, the homespun room was conductive to a different form of exercise, as were the humble cloth robes both men wore. Temeritus had his back to his nephew, but was actually listening closely to his evaluation. Doubtless he would receive more from the surveying officers once they were done here. The other top-scoring pilot candidate, Fehn Bickham of the House of Walther, wouldn't say anything.

He secretly smiled. "Sounds like you had an active day. Do you wish to forego this week's session?"

Any exhaustion Xain Cartwright-Temeritus might have felt was swiftly stowed away during his reply. "I hope that was a rhetorical question, Admiral. I'm always ready!"

"Good. Stretching exercises first- those cockpits look quite cramped." With a look of obvious disappointment, Xain obeyed and lay down upon the straw yellow mat to test his arm and leg muscles. Having completed his first, Temeritus contented himself with simply watching the tan-skinned youth train his body, far younger and generally more fit than his own.

From the moment they had met each other, he could never be sure if the dirty blond-haired son of his sister, Illyana Cartwright, had forged ties with his uncle more out of true caring or a base desire to partake of the legend's experience, reputation, and skills. No doubt about it, he could see this boy was incredibly brash and stubborn. Loved to fly his Valkyrie with the fleet, liked to boast, liked to win at any combative sport. It was not really an attitude that had endeared him to many of his fellow pilots, and even Temeritus- his sole valid parent- would never have considered him for piloting one of the new machines, save for his scores hovering around at very top of his classes.

Working fast to get the stretches out of the way, Xain sat up and faced the Admiral with his arms and legs already poised. These weekly sessions of Jujitsu practice served as both a common interest and a means of rendezvous for someone with as demanding an occupation as the Admiral's. While he knew Xain would never fault him for such scant time for face-to-face talks, the back of Temeritus' mind never failed to obsess over the lingering fact that Xain had also never once called him 'Uncle', or even 'Heim'- always 'Admiral'.

He gave a slight respectful nod, getting himself ready as well and brushing his aging gray hair back. "Shall we trade?"

"You first."

Confident. Is that more hot air, or has he been practicing up in secret? That would be just like him. I cannot help but be proud of him. "As you wish."

In all truth, he did not truly care about being the 'winner' of their sparring, even if he was most of the time. Well, make that all of the time. Exercise, enjoyment, and family bonding were his true goals here, and he let it show in his opening kicks perhaps more than was prudent. Xain parried them with both arms, and then, once he was sure his uncle was done, riposted with a hard, fast palm strike aimed for the chest. Blocking it just in time, the Admiral stifled a grunt and quickly backed away.

"Well met", he commented, lightly pumping his legs on the balls of his feet to warn Xain off. "Feels far more natural than missiles or lasers, wouldn't you agree?"

Xain simply shrugged. "It's all the same, though, in the end. One wins and one dies."

Temeritus frowned. "I would have thought your new war chariot might have served to instruct you in that regard." Trying for a foot sweep, he came up with a slash at the right shoulder seam at the last second, grazing his nephew's skin through the cloth. "A part of what makes them so formidable is their configuration, allowing the pilot to brachiate to their primal selves, which allows for the fastest reaction times humans can reach."

Xain didn't answer this at all, instead vaulting back to his feet and coming back with a series of wide swings, then closing for a quick snap-kick to the Admiral's head.

Always aiming to kill, even in practice. My boy. Can't deny it is worrying to see. "In other words, the suits allow the pilot to control them using the actions that are most natural to them- the ones they have performed all their lives." Weaving with the blow, he crossed before Xain's thin limbs with one arm, creating a fatal distraction before jutting the other arm to his neck, aimed and pinning him to the floor by the neck in a single breath. "Yield?"

Just for a moment, a furious, animal-like snarl twisted the younger man's eyes and lips… but it deserted him just as quickly. "Y-yield." he finally conceded tamely. "I would much prefer to go for two more sessions please, Admiral."

So he inisists on making it two out of three. Then three out of five, four out of seven, five out of eight, until he wins. "In a moment, Xain. I'd prefer a moment of rest first. Think. Consider my words. Consider how natural it felt to move the Hyrcanian around, to move its legs and arms like we just did now. You needed no buttons or switches for that. And that MS 24-G is the heaviest out of the three machines."

"With good reason, Admiral", Xain admitted soberly. "I've never seen so much raw firepower on a machine of that size. May I ask… just who in Daravon designed them?"

- - -

"Hello, Professor Verne."

Trying his best to make the leather turquoise lab coat appear somewhat fashionable, Bryce looked at Gabriel Dellacroix and barked out a laugh. "Hiya. Is this really necessary? He is supposed to be pretty absentminded."

Exasperated by the boy's casual attitude towards what he was undertaking, Gabe fixed him with a dry gaze and held up the now-empty contact case as if brandishing a weapon. "You'd be surprised. All it takes is for you to mix up your new name and your old one once, and the jig's up. If you botch this, boy, well…"

Bryce shook his head, still trying to get his visual cortex more used to the colored contacts, small circular glass bits that changed his eye color from chocolate brown to a generic blue, as well as acting as a replacement for his glasses. Though such advances were now commonplace, he had preferred to stick with glasses up until now. Now, when he needed to look as little like himself as possible.

Mrs. Becca Dellacroix had anonymously cut his dark red hair into something narrower and older-looking, and he had grown a narrow trail of beard down the chin to add to it by refusing to shave. He had also- against all his misgivings- purchased a Haro that had caught his eye in the past few days, which possessed light-reflective plating that could assume all the colors of the rainbow depending on where you looked at the thing from. All of this, combined with the lab coat and bright DES paint tattoo upon his right cheek completed the picture of the false persona who was supposedly 30 years old, who had designed the Mobile Suits.

Reflecting on Gabe's words, he realized he was now facing something of the same situation their mystery infiltrator had about a week ago. If he was exposed, word of it wouldn't get back to Earth… but it very well might get back to this colony, exposing the Dellacroix family for aiding him in what Gabe had eventually determined a 'worthy' task.

"You're right, I'm sorry", he said, pulling himself up with some additional effort, even trying to walk and speak like he was eight years older than he truly was. "I know what it means if I'm caught by Shyron, and how much of this I wouldn't be able to do without your help, Gabe. Thanks again."

Seeing the rainbow-colored Haro Bryce had purchased and named Chameleon hopping around, triggered by its new master's enthusiastic remarks, Gabe shrugged. "Ain't nothin'. Worth it to keep big beasties like these out of dirty 'ands", he remarked, thumbing the fully repaired Peregrine Gundam behind them in the bay. That, rather than the disguise, had been Bryce's contribution- no one else knew the inner workings as he did.

"If you don't mind my asking", Bryce continued uneasily, finally gathering the courage to broach the subject. "I'm grateful for your help, but I can't stop wondering why you haven't turned me in yet. To Anno Domino, I mean."

An explosion of laughter from Gabe, and he almost fell off the supply crate he was lazing on. "Would've thought you'd have figured it out by now, boy. As you've seen, Anno Domino in't very welcome in these parts. You know why we're out 'ere, don't you? Aside from the mining?"

He thought back to history for a moment and nodded, for a moment amazed that the seemingly touchy lenses stayed in place. "Yeah, I've heard about it. George Walther, a famous explorer. He used his powers as a Master to push the boundaries of known space past the Solar Barrier, even into other solar systems. In his name, you do the same thing."

"Right in one", Gabe noted, his voice now clearer and more focused than usual. "We're a nation of explorers by nature. We want no part of Anno Domino's crap, and one less weapon for 'em can only be a good thing. In fact…" But then his own head sank, a clear sign that he'd blithely stumbled into something of which he did not wish to speak.

He looked up to find a warm lab coated sleeve upon his big shoulder. "It's okay. We all have our secrets, and I'll take this one down with me. Your family is safe. A-hem… Professor Nirel Verne of Daravon, ready to takeoff."

Gabriel smiled, got off the crate, picked up and pitched a hapless Chameleon into the Mobile Suit's exposed cockpit all in one motion, whereupon the Haro settled underneath the left arm trough in contentment. "Go get 'em, kid."

- - -

Troy Halliburton had departed the DES corp. building in a thoughtful mood. Just as if Umil and Elya had somehow taken hold of either half of his brain, two voices were now at war with each other.

It might have been over already, with the less sentimental side victorious, if he didn't keep seeing familiar memories of their friend wherever he went. If he went to the fountain outside, he would remember how they helped design the thing to recycle the water it was given. If he occupied himself playing video games, he would remember the many rounds he had with Bryce in the two-player mode.

Finally, like an injured animal, he had made his way home. Well, not his home- his waterfront home had been sold to a fishing company after his parent's death some 20 years ago. In return, the House of Daravon provided him with a single-person residence close to their building- functional, but nothing special. Nervously knocking on the door of a far more stylish household, he was secretly grateful to see Elya open it instead of her parents or older brother- he could easily see they were having dinner at the moment.

"Still can't decide?" She asked him cautiously after they had gotten a fair distance away, come to a bridge near her house. Unlike the morning, a great deal of the grief and anguish from earlier had been drained from her small frame… making it easier to speak his mind.

"I know the perils of sitting on the fence, so to speak", he replied, gazing out over the artificial water canal reflecting their visages. "Tried flipping a coin, but it's all in the bank at the moment. Tried rock-paper-scissors, but no one was here with me at the time."

She giggled inwardly at his false callousness, but was obviously still waiting for his answer. Of course she was waiting for his answer. In a two-against-one, sticking to her veto was not an amiable decision, especially after she had knocked out a young woman about her age, also claiming that their project had to be destroyed…

"It isn't just that, is it?" she asked him while this flickered through his conflicted head. "You're saying goodbye to him, because either way, we may never see him again. I'm scared, Troy."

He nearly aped his friend's trademark facepalm, realizing more and more things about the girl beside him now that he took the time to look. Geez. She's kept her distance even as she admitted that. Still not sure if I've forgiven her for what happened before. "It's okay, El. It's okay. Everything's gonna be fine."

Now looking as if she no longer cared about the decision, but about their own ties, she sniffed, dropping a small red stone into the canal like a prayer. "I've stared to realize how incredibly stupid I must have sounded, trying to leverage you into siding with me. I have a home and a family. Without Daravon's support, Troy… you're out on the streets of this city without any family at all. I'd never wish that on you."

"Not your fault", he said supportively, banishing the flash of a certain ship exploding under the Blood Grudge's red-tined guns, the ship his parents had served upon… "To be honest, El, I hadn't even thought of that. I've developed a good rapport with the boss- Bryce's old man- but if I do this… that evaporates too. He'll never trust me again."

As if preparing for a grim pronouncement, she locked eyes with his own and anticipated the words to come. "Which is why…?"

"Which is why I remembered his other friends- the Anno Domino top brass. It's a lie, El. They were supposed to be a neutral peacekeeping force. They were supposed to mediate disputes and trade between the Houses of Birthright with complete impartiality. But… if that's the case, tell me why we always win?"

She could obviously think of no answer to that, looking instead at the houses and buildings around them, their lights painting the night sky with neon blurs. "We're on top of the food chain. Not many of the people here have a problem with that."

"I agree. Which is why someone has to. Until the haves also stand up, the Houses of Lurkveil, Aznable, Rosso, Peacecraft- the have-nots- get dismissed as just being troublesome."

Head rush, man. This is weirdest date I've ever been on. Part of him was amazed, alarmed at the words spilling from his mouth, as if someone else- Bryce? The spy girl? - Was now voicing his private insecurities through his mouth in greater eloquence than he could ever manage. But do I believe it? Two young engineers… are we really ready to accept the consequences of opposing the House system? Betraying it as Temeritus did?

NO. "I'm not saying we need to leave our homes, El. Just as you'd never ask me to forfeit my well-being, I'd never ask you to leave your family behind for anything. But maybe we don't need to leave Daravon to change it. I'm willing to try, if you are."

She stared at him, at her own reflection in both his eyes and the water running beneath their feet, looking awestruck. Then she laughed aloud. "I don't know if you're talking about Daravon or us being together again anymore. Frankly, I don't care. So now…?"

He smiled, patting her shoulder. "So now, I'll have the second disk to go with the first?"

The fact that she actually had the second disk of the two- the source of her 'veto' power- dawning on her once again, Elya sheepishly bent over. "It's here somewhere."

"Check your boot."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Check your tool pouch. Check your other boot, too. I really meant both boots, but I didn't realize you wouldn't necessarily understand that."

She stopped and looked up, eyes showing mock incredulity. "You're trying to be obnoxious enough for both you and Bryce now?"

"Yes, that is the plan. Unless you'd be interested in applying…?"

- - -