Endgame 3, by DarkBeta
(The Phoenix doesn't work like this? They must have rejiggered the engines.)
The Phoenix stank of mildew and char . . . and blood? Could the smell of blood survive for months in the cold and dark? For all of that, the bridge welcomed them, felt like home in a way the sea-covered base never did.
Ryu was busy at the controls, muttering as he roused the ship to a flight never planned for. Jinpei swayed in a seat he had nearly grown into, smiling in a dream that had nothing to do with the present. Jun waited below the entry, scanning the dark hold for motion, for the Galactor soldiers they'd met once already or for a fading hope.
Ken had stayed at a cross-passage, armed with Joe's gun, to keep the soldiers from following them. Joe had brought them unerringly to the ship. Then he'd gone back. He'd told them not to wait.
Jun couldn't risk believing that she'd see them again. All movement meant, was her turn to stand rear-guard. Her hand worked, wishing for a familiar weight. But she had one whole hand still, and shards of glass or twisted steel could kill as well as feather shuriken. She circled away from the lights of the Phoenix, balancing an improvised blade.
"Almost there. Hang on!"
"I'm f-fine. Don't make a fuss."
It was too much fortune. Jun's voice wavered as she called.
"Joe? K-ken?"
"They're behind us. Help me get Ken to the ship. He's hit, and he won't tell me how bad it is!"
Joe appeared in the dark, more dragging Ken than supporting him. Jun was afraid Ken wouldn't be able to reach the hatch. If he was left . . . if she stayed with him . . . . The hold would flood as the Phoenix escaped.
Joe leapt up, following her voice. He reached back for Ken, and somehow they managed to lift him. Jun scanned the hold one more time. Galactor hadn't found them yet. Well, Gatchaman had schooled the soldiers not to pursue too quickly. She leapt up herself, almost ashamed of the flashing casual flight that Ken had lost.
He coughed, and spat out the open hatch. From the whiteness of Joe's face, Jun knew he'd heard what she saw, the wet dark blood on Ken's mouth. Ken shook his head at her.
"They tagged him, but it's nothing to worry about now," she told Joe.
She knew he wasn't fooled, but Ken smiled approvingly. Jun hadn't lied though. She knew how Hakase's device was supposed to work. Survival past the next half hour, meant only failure and tragedy.
"Is the hatch dogged?" Ryu called. "Get to your seats. We're taking off . . . now!"
oooooooo
In Katze's dreams he killed the Kagutai Ninja Tai, and resurrected them to kill them again, while Sosai X watched and approved. Fire and water, rope and blade . . . so many choices. Exchanging dreams for reality would be something of a sacrifice, but a sacrifice he hurried to.
The ISO fools had collected themselves for his coming. His soldiers circled them, destroying the walls they skulked behind, but held back from killing. If any of those six died, swiftly and away from his view, the soldiers knew what Katze would do to the ones who allowed it.
He saw fear, most satisfactory fear, but too many faces. He could not see the ones he sought. He howled.
"Where are they? Give them to Me!"
"I'm here, Berg Katze."
At the center of the crowd, Nambu Hakase pulled himself up onto some humming mechanism. Katze surveyed the changes in his enemy. Gaunt face, white hair, a tremor in one arm that he tried to conceal . . . . The man's torment was well begun.
"Where are your nestlings, Nambu? Hiding?"
Incredibly, Nambu smiled.
"Ask your soldiers what they found in the dark. Ask your captains if they remember the ship they face now. Ah, but I forgot. The ones who faced her before are gone."
Katze knew, before he heard the panicked voices of his captains, before the feed from his flagship's bridge appeared on the screen behind Nambu. A ship that was part sacred bird surged from the sea, and flamed as she rose. He laughed.
"They'll surrender. To save you, they'll surrender. You cannot fight Galactor. Have you learned nothing, Hakase?"
He had to raise his voice. The mechanism where Nambu perched hummed louder. The ISO personnel crowded closer to Nambu. Sparks flowed like water over them.
"Katze-sama, the radiation levels are rising," an aide hissed to him. "The instruments aren't set up for this. What are they doing?"
Someone handed a toddler up into Nambu's arms, that laughed and reached for the killing sparks. He held it with the ease of experience. He smiled at Katze again, the same eerie expression.
"I learned this much from Galactor; how to cause a secret base to self-destruct."
The King of Earth ran. Silver fire lapped at his heels.
oooooooo
"It's working," Jun gasped.
They could see the flow of energy, lines of silver trailing down into the sea. To the side of that linkage a tiny craft shot up. Berg Katze had escaped again.
"One shot. If we just had one shot left!" Ryu groaned.
The Galactor ships had scattered at the sudden rise of the Phoenix. Once Katze's craft docked, the swarm moved in again, closed into a dome around the ISO's last ship. There was nowhere to dodge.
"Hold," Ken ordered, as Ryu's hands moved on the controls. "They can't hit the base while we're in the way."
"Hai."
Ken had no words after that. No commands. He tasted blood in his throat at every breath.
The fire of the Phoenix Effect felt . . . different. Silver glittered at the edge of his sight, sparks that vanished when he tried to focus on them. They would endure until the fuel was gone, the Phoenix Effect exhausted. The ship would fall like a meteor then. Even if Nambu's plan failed, the base might be destroyed.
Would he know the end? Or would the fire seem endless? Ken felt a sudden irrational conviction that what he and the team endured was not just an effect, but somehow a source of the Phoenix's power.
("Let the fire burn, before I die and after," he offered. "Only let this world be free!")
He did not understand, when he saw Ryu slump forward. One hand lay across the controls like a caress. Ryu was the strongest of them, the one who should survive longest.
Silver flames, and whispers.
"Peace."
Ryu had hated waiting in something like safety while the others ventured into Galactor bases, but he had done his duty. That last time . . . concealing the Phoenix, setting time-delay fuses so she'd be kept from Katze's hands if he didn't return, coming to find his team-mates whether or not they still lived . . . . It shouldn't be Ryu who had to watch the others die. He'd already come too close to it.
When Jun cried out Ken didn't look to her, but to their youngest. Jinpei had fallen against the back of his seat. He was grinning, the old expression of pure confidence. He didn't feel the flames.
The silver whispered, "Safety."
No, it shouldn't be Jinpei left alone, either. Ken did turn to Jun then, and saw the same resignation in her eyes.
She stood up, coming toward the command chair, though she shouldn't be able to move in the flow of the Phoenix Effect. A step away from him she settled to the floor, leaning against the arm of the chair. Once she sat against a boulder like that, resting from a beach walk. He remembered the angle of her shoulder, and the way her hair fell across her cheek.
One hand landed on the chair arm like a dove. Ken forced himself to move, to catch and hold it before that too fell out of his reach.
"Love."
Joe was fighting, embracing pain as an ally, though for all he knew he was already alone. Ken tried to call to him and only coughed helplessly, but Joe turned toward the sound. Then he leaned back in his chair, out of Ken's view except for one hand clenched in a fist. The hand opened. The fingers uncurled and were still.
"Rest."
Ken had hoped it would be otherwise, but that was cowardice. He was the commander. It was his obligation to see that the others were . . . safe.
The Phoenix Effect turned to wisps and ended. The ship began to fall. Galactor opened fire, not willing to allow her death without their interference.
The cabin cracked apart. Ken saw sky, and wings. Jun's hand slid from his grasp. He shouted protest, and the spray of blood fell with him.
Falling and dying, he spread his arms and remembered flight.
"Success."