Update: Tweaked/rewritten November 2020.
The Dumb Luck of No Longer Existing
Cale Drudger looked at the computer screen again and sighed, watching the heartbeats go sporadically out of control and her brainwaves stay relatively calm, only going flat line every once in a great while and for a couple of seconds at a time. This was the third time that morning they had injected the drug into her body, but to no positive results. If the Berserker had come out, the sensors didn't show it and her actions shifted her more into the complete insane column than the calm and terrifying.
It all seemed off. At Banadiya, Lunar Eclipse was wild but it was a tame kind of ferocity. She had nearly taken out the Strike with a mere BuCUE and—or so he heard—rewrote a simulation program in seconds, while she was still in the system. But now, watching her body strain against the straps on her bed as her skull beat the pillow and headboard, Drudger could only cringe and wonder what the hell had gone wrong. He had made that grand discovery of her brainwaves—or lack there of—but now she was the total opposite of what he had become obsessed with.
"Judging by the screaming, there have been no improvements?" A new doctor entered the room, one Drudger was more intimidated by than Commander Le Creuset. While this man may not have been an expert in a mobile suit, his knowledge in genetics and particular interest in Eclipse was frightening in and of itself. He was only in his early thirties, making him young for being such a trusted colleague to the Supreme Council. Drudger didn't know all the exact details, but he did know the doctor spoke regularly to Chairman Zala and also to Commander Le Creuset. With friends like those, that definitely made him a frightening man.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Durandal. We've injected the same dosage on three different occasions during three different simulations and the outcomes are all the same. This." Drudger pointed to the screen, watching the redhead pull loose an arm restraint and start clawing at the other one. Apparently, those weren't a good idea either.
"I see." Durandal didn't seem frightened by the display, looking more thoughtful than anything. He was going through more calculations in his head, reviewing the heart and brain monitors as he thought up the next course of action. "How's she doing mentally? When she's not on the drug?"
"For the most part we can see no signs of brain damage whether she be in Berserker mode or her Coordinator self. All her physical tests come back fine as well. So, she seems relatively fine despite these displays," Drudger explained, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. It was all a bit strange, actually. The drugs they were using were only in the developmental stage and she seemed to be pulling through unscathed. While the drugs were having devastating effects when they were active inside her body, as soon as they wore off, she was back to normal. That itself was frustrating because how were they supposed to figure out what they were doing wrong if there were no side effects?
But maybe that meant they were doing something right?
"She's only been here two days, Dr. Drudger. While I'm happy to hear she is doing well, I want you to keep a close eye on her. So far, her heart seems alright, so I think we can up the dosage by 5ml for the next simulation."
"Roger that."
The drug started wearing down as the two doctors watched the screen, motioning for the nurses to go in and peel off what was left of the shredded restraints. They were hesitant at first, waiting for Eclipse's breathing to slow before venturing into the room. Four surrounded the bed, each one taking an appendage while one put two palms on her forehead to hold her down. Gulping, the nurse near her head looked down at the redhead's face, watching her pupiless eyes fade away behind her eyelids.
How long have I been here? Eclipse asked herself, curling up on her bed to stare at the white wall. The heart monitor beeped monotonously behind her, the pillow over her head failing to drown out the sadistic reminder of where she was. Looking down, she pulled her arm up under the pillow and rubbed the backside of her hand against her cheek, wishing Commander Waltfeld's number hadn't been stripped off the moment she had arrived.
So naïve.
She had never understood the worried look on DaCosta's face until she was ushered down the stairs to a lab filled with unusual machines and chemistry sets, their contents ready to pump her body with drugs she never thought existed. She had never even seen her "commanding officer" before there was a needle being pushed into her upper arm and sensors stuck to her forehead. She recognized one man, the doctor from Banadiya, but the other people were unfamiliar. At least in their physical appearances. The glimmer in their eye Eclipse had seen a number of times on Januarias 4 and even in Dr. Drudger's eyes.
Eager curiosity.
Obviously, she struggled, but they were ready for her, having doctors skilled in hand-to-hand combat, leather straps to keep her pinned, and even a trigger-happy nurse who—luckily—had bad aim. There was a graze on Eclipse's left shoulder and a bullet in a cart of blankets thanks to her efforts. Somehow, they must have known anesthesia wouldn't have worked on her because they went straight to a test drug, or at least something of the sort. Eclipse had never experienced anything quite like it. It was as if her mind broke, there was no other way to describe it. Her vision had literally cracked and shifted in fragments—a nurse's arm moving one way, a chemistry set the other—before finally burning to a bloody brown. She came around a while later, dizzy and unable to move thanks to the leather straps around her neck and one around each appendage. Scary thing was, she hadn't remembered them being put on.
The beeping sound sped up as an alarm went off near the door and both hands shifted to the outside of the pillow, pushing it down over her ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. It was time for another dose, but of what? Eclipse had no idea, only that whatever they were pumping into her body spurred her into brief moments of ferocious fits. After the first five or six times of these tests, she had come to realize her body did things while she was unconscious. She remembered that being mentioned back on Earth, but never thought of the consequences until she found her mattress torn to shreds and the unpleasant feeling of dry fabric inside her mouth.
She was turning into an animal and had no way to stop them.
What the hell were they doing?
"Any changes?" Durandal asked, stepping up behind Drudger and placing a hand on the back of his chair as he leaned forward to look at the monitors. It had been another two days, but still nothing was improving. Durandal had hoped when he came in that morning there was going to be some kind of difference, but even before he had asked, he had seen Eclipse inside her room.
"None," Drudger responded, involuntarily cringing when he saw the redhead shove an elbow into the heart machine. They needed to find better restraints. "She still throws these fits. After what happened in Banadiya I really shouldn't be too surprised, but when she's given some kind of objective, she seems to be stable enough." He shrugged. The problem was, finding an objective strenuous enough to bring out the Berserker, he thought. Honestly, he was running out of ideas.
"I can't quite figure it out either," Durandal admitted. "We've tried different amounts of doses."
"We've never decided on whether or not to up the dosage further, sir. It's still a possi—"
"Her heart rate is already at too high of a level," Durandal stated, standing up straighter and massaging his forehead. He never thought it would take so long to replicate that drug she had been given on Januarias 4. There was no paper trail left behind when the facility was destroyed and—as expected—no one jumped up to take credit for giving Vindur the drug in the first place. Durandal had already spoken to Le Creuset, but he didn't remember much about it either. "I think we need to activate the gene directly, or at least have the chemicals prod more into her brain. Right now, they're attacking her heart and if this keeps up, we'll lose her before any progress is made."
"So, what do you suggest?"
Durandal sighed, staring at the screen and watching Eclipse pound her fists against the wall, shouting something incoherent. Where had he gone wrong? Could he not induce the Berserker like he had originally thought? Was it just some psychological game the redhead played with her other half? If that was the case, why hadn't the true Berserker come out yet? Why was Eclipse being reduced to this inhumane beast instead of the calm, warmongering soldier she was supposed to become?
"Sir?" Drudger prodded, knowing Eclipse was going to seriously hurt herself if something wasn't done soon.
"Get people in there to strap her down for now and stop issuing the drug. As soon as she's calmer, I'll put her back through the simulators and agility tests. Maybe we'll learn a bit more when she's put into a battle situation."
"Roger that."
Sighing, Durandal left the room as Eclipse started her screaming once more, clawing at the medics trying to pin her to the floor. It always looked terrible as the drugs took hold, but her brain never showed signs of damage afterwards—as if her fits had never happened. That meant it was okay for them to do test after test, but they had made absolutely no progress. The redhead was still merely a skilled elite and no matter how many times they forced the Berserker out, their stats could never equal the data they had obtained from her past battles. And to make matters worse, they had failed in copying the Berserker gene as well. It always dissolved as soon as it was detached and even if they tried combining her blood with other blood samples, the gene would simply waste away. What link were they missing? If that gene held the potential of saving Coordinators from extinction, there had to be a way to copy it.
Walking down the hall, he turned to the left and opened his office door, plopping down in his chair as soon as he flicked the lock. He had to report in to Chairman Zala soon, but he had no new information to give.
The only positive thing he could say was that the test subject was still alive.
"I want her out!"
Eclipse tried to open her eyes but failed, not having the strength to see what was going on. It sounded as if some people were arguing, but it sounded so far away, like it was coming in through an intercom rather than inside the room. Given what had been happening recently, it didn't seem impossible. She felt so detached from everything, even herself, so how could someone actually find her?
"You can't just come barging in here—"
"Where's this Gilbert Durandal, I want to see him now! You have no authority—"
"Trust me, sir. We have permission from the Council itself. Now, if you'll just sit down—"
"I will not! You get her out of there! I'm taking over as her commanding officer!"
"I have had no such orders and until further notice, this girl is permanently assigned here."
"Bullshit!"
"Commander!"
There was some shuffling and the sound of broken glass before someone decided to speak up again. Vaguely, she was beginning to recognize the voice. Commander Waltfeld?
"Control yourself, sir! We are a scientific facility only ever thinking of us Coordinators. This girl could be the key to—"
"I don't give a damn if she's the only one who can pull that sword out from your ass! She's not staying here a moment longer!"
"Is there a problem here?" It was a new voice, one Eclipse didn't recognize. It was soft, kind, but had a dictating edge so terrifying the redhead felt herself getting nervous. That must have been him—the one keeping her there.
Gilbert Durandal.
"Yes, there is. She is not some lab rat and you, sir, are breaking so many rules."
"Breaking rules, you say? I assure you, we have authorization—"
"Who's? The Council's? Well, that's all fine and dandy, but what about hers?"
"Hers? Why would I require her permission? She was a soldier transferred to my care."
"Was a soldier?"
"Exactly. You see, she can't be assigned to your team."
"Durandal—so help me—if you—"
The intercom cut off then, leaving the rest of the conversation to Eclipse's imagination. Something was wrong. That was Commander Waltfeld, but why was he so upset? What was going on? Where was she? Why couldn't she open her eyes? Why couldn't she move?
And why was the Berserker laughing hysterically in the back of her mind?
I really don't want to move, Eclipse groaned, shifting her shoulders, her muscles slowly coming to attention as her nerves squirmed down her body. Slowly, she wiggled her fingers to help her sluggish brain connect with reality and open her eyes. For the most part, it did nothing. She only managed to tune in a little bit, her hand instantly cramping and shooting pain down her forearm to her shoulder. She bit her tongue; it was the only thing she could do. All of the chaotic fits she had been throwing must been a strain on her body, bringing out the old injuries with an intensity brimming on obsessive masochism. It was as if the injuries wanted to retaliate, laughing at her as she churned in her bed. Grimacing, she tried to drown it out, having the sudden urge to start banging her head against the wall when the Berserker started laughing. What the hell was so funny? Technically, that side of her shouldn't have had any ill feelings. After all, the Berserker—no matter how inadvertently—was one of the reasons Athrun decided to self-destruct. If I wouldn't have given in— She sighed. Now she was in a huge mess, had bruises on each finger, a reopened gash on her leg—she just felt the blood run down her calf—and nothing to blame but her own naivety.
The medical machine beeped off to her left, quickening her heart rate and breath automatically. She never knew when the next drug dosage would start, only that she would be strapped to the bed when her consciousness came back.
Along with brief images of what had happened.
"Damn it! Quick, stop the machine and tighten the restraints. Let's wheel her to the simulator before she gets too crazy."
Eclipse wasn't sure who was talking—the voice sounded male—but two nurses ran to her side after the order, one shutting off the machine as the other strapped her feet to the bed. In fact, Eclipse barely noticed them, her eyes slowly opening as a maniacal cackle tore through her lips. It started out light, tickling her vocal cords as the first bursts of air sounded. It actually sounded innocent, but when she inhaled and started again, her voice had dropped to a low alto, slowly rising in pitch as the chuckling grew louder. The nurses stared, horrified by the sound.
It was all so damn ridiculous. Those doctors thought they could control her; force the most impulsive emotion a soldier could possess and expect to stand there safely behind computer screens? The Berserker laughed again, thrashing on the bed more to fuel her hysteria than to escape her confinement. Those doctors honestly thought they could copy—no, understand her insanity? Stupid. Foolish.
Cocky.
Give her a gun, give her a target and she would gladly do something rational. Not those damn simulations or pitiful drug doses. They were trying too hard; failing to see the bigger picture. The Berserker couldn't be tamed, caged, and especially not manipulated.
"How long?" she laughed, her last cackle gurgling from her throat. Sticking out her tongue, she passed it over her lips, circling around to lick her teeth and make a loud click. Everyone jumped. She laughed again. "How long until you all give up?"
The nurses gulped and turned to one nurse in particular, presumably their superior, but he seemed just as scared. Quivering, he was going to issue a command when she spoke again in a deep whisper.
"How long 'til I get to kill you?"
"Please tell me there's some good news this morning?" Durandal asked, walking into the monitoring room around noon. Covering up a yawn, he unprofessionally stretched his arms, hoisting the medical file up over his head.
Drudger found it all interesting. It seemed he wasn't the only one being affected by the project. Perhaps Durandal had had a few sleepless nights as well. It had been almost two weeks since Eclipse had been transferred to his care and still nothing substantial had been gained. Commander Waltfeld's outburst had set him back a couple of days, his complaints sending in some military officials to investigate. For the most part, they were on Durandal's side—thanks to Chairman Zala's interference—but they had taken almost three days to go through all the material, forcing him to shut down the project for that time. Originally, Eclipse was going to be sedated and put into another room so she didn't cause any "trouble," but that idea didn't last long when the investigators were required to check her out as well. She was no longer part of the military, but since Waltfeld had insisted on making sure she was alright, the doctors had no other choice. So, she was left conscious and very curious about what the hell was going on.
Needless to say, it had made Drudger rather nervous.
If she was just left there to try and figure out what was going on, she would probably try to get away and based on all the data he had about her, she could succeed. Eclipse was able to activate the Berserker gene at will, but Drudger wasn't able to even get it thinking about reacting. It didn't seem fair. So, he was left there, throwing his life into that project just to be disappointed day after day and as soon as they were making some kind of progress—the Berserker had come out after a dosage was stopped halfway—those investigators had come in to reverse any kind of leeway they might have gained.
"Doctor, did you hear me?" Durandal asked, tapping him on the shoulder when he didn't respond. "How's she doing?"
Drudger blinked and swiveled in his chair. He was surprised about how much the older doctor didn't intimidate him that morning. Usually, Durandal made him uneasy, but, being so exhausted, the younger man didn't even seem fazed. So much for survival instincts. He needed a vacation. "Still nothing, sir. We've tried to reenact what happened the other day, but either we're stopping the dosage too early or too late."
Durandal sighed and pulled out the chair next to Drudger. Sitting down, he leaned back and crossed his right leg over his left, leaning to one side and staring at the folder in his hand. "I think in order to create the same scenario, she has to be in the same state of mind. Whatever she was thinking about triggered the Berserker and the drugs only enforced it." He sighed, knowing his evaluation was probably right and, if that was the case, they would never be able to have the same outcome.
"There might be some good news though, sir."
"And what's that?"
"Our engineers have been working on the new simulator you suggested. Instead of merely sending the pilot's mind into the simulation, this version will make the pilot's body work as well. The monitors will be connected to a kind of headset, still sending the images directly to the brain, but the subject can move about freely as well."
"Were they able to copy the same system Eclipse managed in Banadiya?"
"Not totally. We're not entirely sure what she did to the original system, but she was able to disconnect from her BuCUE and take apart her opponent's machine, this you know. The impressive thing about that as well was how the BuCUE in the system was affected by what was happening to the unit outside. I was always under the impression that when a simulator was attached to a machine, the computer was doing all the work and the rest of the mobile suit didn't matter."
Durandal nodded thoughtfully, bringing a hand up to his chin and rubbing a finger across his bottom lip. He had heard about that event, but had never paid much attention to it until recently. Before, it just seemed to be proof of how well the Berserker could adapt to its surroundings, taking any kind of situation and turning it in its favor, but since nothing else was working, it looked more like a beacon than just a statistic. "So, you think this new version, even if it's not the same as the one she came up with in Banadiya, will help our experiments?"
"Well," Drudger began, shifting in his chair to sit up straighter as his ego rose. "As we noticed, the Berserker's body is as involved in the 'transforming' process as much as the mind. Everything from strength to food digestion is heightened and I think the old simulation loses that effect. If we can get her more physically involved, we might have more success. Given, it's not exactly the same as the one in the desert, but it's close enough that we can afford a bit of hope."
Durandal nodded again. He had been too ambitious to think they would be able to copy her adjustments completely, but all they needed was some kind of tease; something to taunt the Berserker enough to bring it out and into the open. Then things could move forward.
Their research could officially begin.
Whatever had happened a couple of days—was it days?—ago must not have done anything, because I'm still here, Eclipse thought, crinkling her forehead. She felt the trickle of liquid in her ear and she shivered, the droplet of blood sliding away from the cotton and down through her ear canal. She had forgotten about the Stealth when she was whisked away to become a lab rat, but almost right after Commander Waltfeld had talked to Durandal, the earpiece started buzzing, messing up the sensors on her forehead and not making her captors too happy. The doctors had found the device and had promptly torn it out. The pain from that was so profound and the wound so ugly—or at least she figured based on their reactions—she didn't think she would be able to hear again out of her right ear. With the cotton in there already, noises were muffled, but there was a constant ringing. Nothing loud and obnoxious, but just knowing it was there brought some tears to her eyes.
What the hell was going on?
She had thought she would have received some kind of information—or caught onto something—by now, but she was just as clueless as she had been when she walked through the door. And perhaps even more so. At one time she was coherent, but what had happened seemed more and more like she was looking through a steamy car window. Now, she never knew what time it was and even guessing at the date seemed like more work than it was worth. Another thing she noticed was how many new faces she saw each day. Or were they new? Slowly, she was forgetting things and tried every spare moment to run her important memories through her mind; who she was, who her friends were. The first thing she forgot was where she was and that morning was not a pleasant one. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so panicked, but as she calmed down, bits and pieces of things came back to her. Nothing substantial, but enough to let her keep some kind of sanity. The second thing she forgot?
The man who had caged her there.
It seemed like such an important name, she couldn't believe she had forgotten it. So many times she had heard his voice through the intercom, but she just couldn't remember anything. Convenient? Obviously, because if she ever got out of there, she wouldn't be able to give any helpful information. Often, she thought that was done on purpose, as if someone was digging through her brain and picking out anything important. Given the circumstances, it was possible.
"So, are we supposed to start a dosage and then wheel her away? Or just take her straight to the simulation room?"
"I think we're just taking her there," was the reply, Eclipse so disorientated she could barely tell if they were male or female. They sounded so alike. "She looks to be out of it."
"Yeah, like that means anything anymore. Did you see those bite marks on Marley's forearms? And her fingers? She usually keeps them bandaged, but you should ask to look at them. They're hideous."
"What's the point of all of this anyway? When I signed up for this internship, this was not what I expected. I didn't think working on a genetic reject was on my list of preferred duties."
Eclipse stopped paying attention, not appreciating them ranting about their bad luck when she was the one being psychologically dissected. Call her selfish, but would it hurt for anyone to feel in the least bit sorry for her? Genetic reject, she thought, feeling herself drop even further towards depression. In the end, she had figured it would be up to herself to get out, but she never wanted to believe it. However, there it was, the word spitting in her face and lingering there like some kind of freakish mask. How she wished Commander Waltfeld would come back.
At least that name she could remember.
The bed jerked suddenly as she thought, knocking her back to reality and the darkness of her closed eyelids. She was going to be put through more simulators. Grand. Not only had they produced no positive results, but the more often the Berserker was forced out of her subconscious, the more Eclipse could feel herself slipping away. Not towards death, per say, but towards an eternity of imprisonment. It was hard to explain and every time she thought about it, the Berserker would perk up and increase her doubt. The Berserker; it was rapidly becoming a part of her—no, separate from her. It was almost as if it could think on its own. Or worse, react on its own. There were no boundaries, no locked doors, no remorse.
Just pure impulse.
Sighing, she tried not to think about it, focus on something a bit happier, but that idea was dashed when a loud siren echoed down the hall. It was high-pitched and almost as deafening as the screech that tore through her eardrum when the earpiece was removed. It made her wince.
Wait, wince?
Eclipse gasped, realizing for the first time her body was able to move. The nurses must have taken their sweet time in transporting her because the drugs had already worn off and she wasn't even close to the simulator room. Flexing her eyes, she squeezed them tight and then forced them open, blinking many times when a red light passed overhead. The nurses—both female with darker hair—were panicking next to her, trying to get someone on their radios. While they were shouting into their mikes, the emergency lights turned on, hazing the hallway in a yellow glow mixed with the eerie red lights circling in the upper corners. The dimness was good on her eyes, not causing the instant headache she was afraid of.
"What is that alarm?" one of the nurses shouted. She ran over to the end of the bed, locking the front wheels, Eclipse figured.
"I dunno, and no one's responding!" the other nurse responded. "I'm gonna run ahead and see if anyone in the simulation room—"
"You're just gonna leave me here?"
"Relax, she's strapped down and still unconscious…" Her words trailed off when she looked down at the medical bed and locked eyes with the redhead lying there. The last words were slow, the young girl uttering them one syllable at a time as if the sluggish pace would delay the nightmare before her. Her face paled and her blue eyes widened. Eclipse was actually impressed with how quickly her expression changed. Who knew someone could look that sick within a matter of seconds? What was even more impressive was the look on the other nurse's face.
And what came out of her mouth.
She screamed a high-pitched, glass-breaking screech that sent her tripping over the gurney's wheels and headfirst into the wall. Her panic combined with the impact sent her into a blissful sleep. The nurse still staring at Eclipse seemed to have stopped breathing. The words, "holy fuckin' shit," most likely echoing in the back of her mind. Inwardly sighing, the redhead decided she should just stare, figuring her intense attention was doing enough psychiatric damage. Moving might have overdone it and talking was questionable. She didn't trust any words that might tumble from her tongue anyway.
"Y-you're awake?" It seemed like such a stupid thing to bring up while the red lights—and obvious sirens—were going off, but Eclipse couldn't really blame her. After everything that had been happening recently, she would probably be scared of herself too. "Y-you're awake." Apparently, saying it twice made her feel better.
In response, the redhead shifted her eyes down to her restraints and pulled at them. The nurse gazed at them too and then back down the hallway towards the simulator room. It was a miracle no one had run out of there yet. Eclipse pulled harder and prayed no one did. The nurse took a step back and the redhead tried to sit up, a gurgling sound escaping her throat when the restraint started choking her. Damn, those were tight.
The nurse retreated again.
"Please," Eclipse croaked. She had to get out of there.
The nurse gulped.
"Please."
She ran.
Eclipse could feel her fingers reaching out after her as her eyes got wide, tears brimming at the corners more because of frustration than actual sadness. Now what? She screamed, sending all of her disappointment and irritation into that single burst of air. No doubt someone would be by soon to lock her back into her room or at least evacuate her to a "safe area." And that meant more drugs—more simulations. She yelled again.
Help; she needed help.
Biting her bottom lip, a panicked tear joined the frustrated ones at the base of her cheek. She knew what to do, but could she? Would she?
There was just no other choice.
The Berserker laughed and took control.
Eclipse chose not to remember, severing the connection with her other half as soon as she felt her left thumb dislocate and her fingers slide through the restraint. The bonds had been tighter than usual, causing some interesting scrapes on her hands. She could almost feel the skin sliding off her fingers. Waking up, she instinctively went to those wounds, wincing when she felt the extent of the damage. The skin was still on—thank goodness—but her fingernails were a bloody mess and the bruises were already forming near her knuckles.
But she was outside the building.
…Somewhere.
She wasn't about to ask how she had escaped so easily—perhaps it wasn't easy at all—but the prospect of having freedom thanks to her Berserker half terrified her. Some things definitely had to change.
Taking a quick look around, she deduced she was in an alley, but how far she had wandered from the medical facility itself was a mystery. Whether or not that was a good thing was still under debate, but at least she was somewhat safe for the time being. Taking that as a good sign, she started her physical examination.
Her hand she had already looked at and—judging by the awkward angle—her thumb was still out of joint. Grabbing the front of her hospital gown, she slipped it between her teeth and bit down. Her right hand pinched the base of her thumb, grinding it back into place with a sickening crack. Withholding a whimper, she finished her injury check.
Her right ankle was sore—perhaps she twisted it in the escape—and her throat throbbed both inside and out. The screaming might have been a reason for the inside problems, but the outside damage was—most likely—caused by the restraints. It would take a couple of days to heal completely, but the muscles were terribly stiff. That wasn't good when she was supposed to be seeing every angle and not get caught again. Also, with such a weak body her chances of fleeing at a sprint had just plummeted to a hobble. How did she expect to run away if she could barely stand? And how had she gotten to her current location already? The Berserker laughed loudly in her mind and her breath quickened, shutting her eyes and shaking her head painfully to block out the images her other half threatened to display.
She didn't want to know.
Her welcome back to her surroundings was not a pleasant one, the damage to her right ear causing her previous actions to make her far dizzier than she would have liked, her feet fumbling under her as she fell against the wall to her left. Her breath came out in rasps, her right ear plugged and the forcing the sounds to reverberate loudly in her head instead of merely through her teeth.
It wasn't going to be easy.
Trying to get some lubrication to her dry throat, she gulped and looked back around the corner of her current hideout. The place was in an uproar, military personnel running back and forth through the cemented expanse to her right and more military vehicles driving through the open area to her left. She seemed to be near some hangars, but it was just a guess, she knew, her internal compass so far off kilter that she could have been back on Earth and not noticed even if she saw the moon in the sky.
She wasn't startled by the overall panic, but she was surprised no one had spotted her yet. Wearing a hospital gown didn't exactly make her invisible. In fact, it made her suspicious, but she must have been either shrouded in shadow very well, or she wasn't a priority. A group of greencoats ran past and she ducked back behind the wall. She thought she heard one talking about seeing something in the alley, but they must have brushed off the idea since no one turned around to check down her way. Maybe her escape hadn't made its way through the radio waves yet because she was sure there should have been just short of a company trying to chase after her. What the hell is going on? she thought, risking another look when it all seemed clear.
Greencoats were the primary uniform running around, shouting out orders to one another and trying to create some semblance of calm, but it wasn't until some redcoats joined the others that things started to gain order. Eclipse cursed. If the panic subsided before she could get clear of the building, she would definitely get caught again. But where could she go?
Turning around, she looked down towards the end of the alley. She had no idea where she was, but if these were military hangars, she could find a radio. If she could sneak into one, she might be able to get in contact with DaCosta or Waltfeld. And, perhaps best of all, there would most likely be enough vehicles to pick from. Maybe all of the chaos out here had drawn all the soldiers outside, leaving a hangar unguarded enough for her to slip inside. Hopefully. Taking another brief look at her condition, she decided to pray just a little bit louder.
Eclipse couldn't remember the last time she had felt so tired, let alone so sore. She hadn't taken 10 steps until her injured ankle decided to twist again and send her sidelong into the metal wall. The sound was so loud in her left ear that she tensed and cursed, her muscles screaming with her panicked response. A few more scratches were added to her repertoire after her collision and now she could barely walk. Usually, adrenaline took over by that point to drown out the pain, but the redhead didn't even think she could produce anything of the sort. She was tired, gradually losing focus and wanted nothing more than to collapse on the ground and hope some soldier found her so that she could rest on a bed at least. Sure, she might be put back through those simulations, but—at that exact moment—she really didn't care. Sleep—that was all she wanted.
Trudging forward, the end of the alleyway seemed to move farther and farther away. Her vision faltered, causing her to stumble a couple of times before she gave in and fell down altogether, landing on her front. This was ridiculous. She couldn't even walk let alone attempt to take on any soldier and steal a military vehicle. Hell, she stood out so much she would probably be spotted as soon as she stepped out of the alley. She could try and conceal herself for a couple of hours, but cover was rather scarce. There were some dumpsters ready for the incinerator littering the area, but nothing that would hide her for longer than an hour.
Sighing, she flopped over onto her side and curled up into a ball next to one of those dumpsters. It had been a while since she had felt so helpless and weak. The last time was when she had seen Nicol die, and even then she was more pissed than sad to totally immerse in the emotion. Staring at her bruised fingers and hearing her raspy breath coming from her chapped lips, she debated just staying there. It was one thing to think it, but it was another thing to give in altogether. No one would blame her; she couldn't move. Actually, she was convinced that if she was picked up again and taken back to that medical facility, she would never come out again. Not a pleasant thought, but not even the threat of being caged there for the rest of her life was enough to get her back on her feet. I could crawl, she thought, but then chuckled quietly. Crawl. Hah, how pathetic. Sighing, she rolled onto her back and started up at the lip of the dumpster.
Such dumb luck.
Dangling outside was the arm of a doctor's white coat. Compared to the side of the dumpster, the jacket looked bleached, but Eclipse knew better than to assume they had thrown away a perfectly good jacket. What she was more concerned with, however, was how easily she found it. Was her luck changing? Could she really have found something like this by chance and now be expected to get out alive? Someone's making fun of me, she thought, forcing strength through her arms to hoist her up. This is too easy. Reaching towards the cuff, she pulled, hearing a loud rip when the seam near the armpit tore open. Groaning, she fell back to the ground and stared at the dangling arm. She just didn't have enough energy to stand and properly pull it out. Hell, even if she managed to get it out of the dumpster, what would she do? Wear it, obviously, but she had no shoes, bruises on her arms, legs, and face, not to mention her matted hair. Even if she was able to properly walk out of the alley—no matter how clean the coat could be—she wouldn't get far.
It was all looking so hopeless.
Ugh, Athrun would know what to do. Shit, even Yzak might have a good idea and definitely Heine— She stopped. Heine. The Freedom.
He might be here.
Rolling onto her side, she stared down the alleyway at a hanger door now visual up and to her right. Two redcoats with about ten greencoats ran across the alley opening in a group, the elites shouting various orders and pointing down the road. So many soldiers were around, and Heine had to be one of them, right? If Commander Waltfeld was in charge of the ship built for the Freedom, Heine couldn't be far away. Heine would help her; he'd always been there for her.
But could her dumb luck hold out that long?
"The Freedom's been what?" a soldier squealed nearby from the alley opening, but Eclipse didn't have time to listen in on the conversation as her adrenaline did, in fact, kick in. If they were talking about the Freedom, Heine was around. There was no way he wouldn't be.
Groaning, she hoisted herself up to her knees and stopped, catching her breath. She had no idea how long she had even been scrounging around back there, but the fact that she had been for even a small amount of time either proved the panicked state the area was in, or how unprofessional the security was being in checking the alley. Either way, she was grateful for the extra time and when she finally pulled herself to her feet, she was also thankful for the amount of noise. A sharp gasp of pain wasn't about to be heard over all the sirens and shouting.
Lifting up the dumpster hatch, she freed the jacket and threw it on over her medical gown. There was a tear at the bottom to match the one she had made in the left armpit and a large hole in the breast pocket. Blood was splattered across the backside, but nothing so bad someone could have died in it. That was good because she really didn't want to walk around with a huge red splotch on her back. She would get way too many questions if there was. Mud was splashed up onto the front and she didn't smell too good, but if anyone asked her what happened, she could just say she slipped in the alley. Problem solved.
She hoped.
And now, to walk. Taking a deep breath, she stood as straight as she could and started her trudge towards the hanger.
One step.
Two steps.
Pain.
Biting her bottom lip, she kept her mind focused and ignored her body. All she had to do was walk into the open, explain how she tripped, lost her ID amid all the chaos, and ask someone to take her either as far away from that place as possible or to Heine. Yeah, no problem. She smirked at that, realizing that whatever was going on would prevent her from leaving the complex altogether. Oh well, at least now she could say she tried.
She stumbled once more when she reached the end, collapsing onto the ground while trying to catch herself on the door handle leading into the hangar. If Eclipse would have been watching herself, she would have laughed, calling it all a rehearsed gag, but since she was the one in pain and not able to stand up anymore, she just cursed and breathed through her pain. If someone found her, she had her cover story. If no one saw her, she would try to get through the door and into the hangar. Either way, there was no way she could turn back.
"'Ey you!" a greencoat shouted, running over to help her up and determining her next course of action. He was a younger recruit with darker hair and brown eyes but didn't seem as innocent as she had hoped. He might not buy her story. Putting two hands under her right arm, he hoisted her to her feet. "Are you alright? You look awful."
"Th-thanks for noticing," Eclipse stuttered, clearing her dry throat when her voice cracked and wrapping the coat tight over her gown. "I fell down in the alley and no one bothered to help me. I was yelling for about 20 minutes."
"You were? Sorry about that, things have been rather hectic around here." Smiling, he helped her to sit down on a slab of concrete next to the wall. "But, holy shit, you're hurt. Are you sure you just fell?"
"What kind of a question is that?" the redhead asked, trying to sound offended. She didn't like the quizzical looks him and his buddies were giving her. She especially didn't like how they eyed the bruises around her neck or her bare feet. No doubt she looked as if she had been strangled recently, but what kind of excuse could she come up with?
The greencoat still looked suspicious, so Eclipse just sighed. "There was a lot of commotion inside the medical facility and I ran into some stuff, got tangled, lost my ID, and felt like beating the shit out of someone. Since no one was around—and I didn't really want to lose my job—I came outside to see what all the ruckus was about, got ordered to help out somewhere around here and ended up getting lost." She paused, wincing when she turned wrong and a sharp pain ran across her chest. Catching her breath, she forced out a smile. "What is going on anyway?"
"Uh," the greencoat began, looking behind him to make eye contact with the redcoat who had just arrived. Eclipse followed his eyes and caught her breath when she saw he had blond hair. However, she silently cursed when he turned out to be about four inches shorter than Heine and had a nose about as sharp as the pen he was absently clicking in his right hand.
"What's going on here?" the redcoat asked, brushing past the observers near them to stand in front of Eclipse. "And who is this?"
"Well—uh—" the greencoat stuttered.
"What, you find a girl looking like this and you instantly think she's innocent? For goodness sakes, soldier, where's your military common sense?"
"I'm sorry, sir—"
"Nevermind, just take the others and head to Hanger A33. There's been a rumor the culprit has been spotted there."
"Sir!" The greencoat saluted, gave Eclipse one last look and then waved to the others to follow.
The redcoat waited until they were all gone before starting his interrogation once more. "What's your name?"
Shit, the redhead thought, wishing she would have thought ahead just a bit more. Usually, she was on top of things like this, but at that moment, she couldn't even remember a female nurse's name at the facility. If this elite was really as to the rulebook as she expected him to be, he probably knew every person in that entire building and could tell if she was lying. Cursing again, she wished she would have said she was some kind of intern. Bringing that up now would have looked suspicious. "I'm Kari Crescent, an anesthesiologist at the medical center in Sector 2-C."
The redcoat nodded, his face moving uncomfortably close to hers. "Anesthesiologist, huh? I know a few superior officers in that sector very well. Many are quite strict." Eclipse just shrugged. What else could she do? Obviously, he was onto her, so the trick was to see if he could give away enough information before she had to answer. "Your dress codes are almost archaic. I'm surprised someone so sloppy is on his medical team." He looked down at her feet and she subconsciously slipped one bare foot over the other.
She shrugged again. "I lost my shoes when I slipped and I'm good at what I do, there's nothing else I can say. I'm not very liked personally, but I get the job done."
"Hm, whatever was going on there must have been important." He backed up then, bringing his left hand to his lip as he thought, but never letting go of the pen at his side. Eclipse was starting to get irritated. "That sector has been on edge—" Click. "—for a while now—" Click, click. "—and I never understood—" Click, click, click. "—what might be—" Click.
"Sir, can you please stop that?" That remark he didn't really care for. Perhaps it had something to do with the way she interrupted, but that clicking noise was combining with the already annoying ringing in her ear. It was like a symphony of mosquitoes trying to make some money on her annoyance level and enjoying the rollercoaster ride when it went up and down periodically.
He glared at her then, suspicious once more. Sighing, she was about to make another comment to calm his nerves when he slipped a handgun from his belt. Flipping off the safety, he merely rested his finger near the trigger instead of on it. Who knew someone could get shot over a pen? "Sir, I—"
"We are on the lookout for any suspicious people."
Aren't you always on the lookout for suspicious people? She wanted to say it, but decided against it since her situation wasn't the greatest.
"And you, my friend—"
Friend?
"—are suspicious."
She nearly fell over laughing at the cliché, amused by the fact that he was pointing the pen and attempting to pose at the end. Maybe he just got too involved with his work, but no matter how she looked at it, Eclipse knew she was in a rough situation. "Get me Heine Westenfluss."
"Excuse me?"
"Heine Westenfluss, he's an elite pilot and should be around here somewhere. He's actually supposed to be piloting the Free—"
He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I know who he is, but how do you know who he is?"
"We're—uh—dating."
That perked his interest. "Dating, huh?" Internally cringing, she nodded. If it worked, she didn't care how poorly her ego got bruised. "A pilot and an anesthesiologist?"
The redhead shrugged. "What can I say, he was lying on the bed injured, said a few romantic things, I knocked him out for surgery, and we've been in love ever since." How she hoped Heine wouldn't get wind of her saying any of this.
"You're mocking me."
"Sir, I'm just trying to explain the circumstances."
"Here, let me get him on the radio to confirm." Eclipse nodded, forcing a smile. While she was happy someone was finally getting in touch with Heine, she knew her fake name would only confuse him. It would have been the dumbest sense of luck if he did have a girlfriend named Kari Crescent, or if he knew that was her alias back on Heliopolis. Since Heliopolis was never brought up and—as far as she knew—he didn't have a girlfriend, calling Heine on the radio would probably do nothing. Sighing, she had no choice but to wait. She was still too weak to do any major damage to—wait.
"Heine Westenfluss, do you copy?"
That man was standing pretty close to her sitting position. Close enough, in fact, she could use whatever strength she had left to kick his knees back. Sure, the guy probably wouldn't walk very well afterwards, but lucky him. He might be able to go back to a civilian life.
"I copy you loud and clear, Baymont, and it's a good thing you called. We need backup."
Eclipse heard herself gasp. That was Heine alright. So, he was around. Good.
"I have a situation myself. Do you know a Kari Crescent?"
"Crescent?" Heine echoed, sounding a bit winded on the other end. The redhead was actually afraid to know what was going on.
"I'm at the hanger A15 and we found a suspicious female in a medical jacket. She looks about seventeen years old, red hair, and beaten up pretty badly. She says she an anesthesiologist at the medical facility nearby and your gir—"
Crunch.
Gathering up her legs, she kicked both feet outward to hit Baymont directly in the right kneecap. His leg buckled backwards with a sickening series of cracks before his brain registered the pain and he fell down in a crumpled heap. He started screaming then and dropped both the gun and the radio, holding his leg with both hands.
Ouch. Getting to her feet, she picked up the weapon and radio. "Baymont! Baymont! Damn it, what the hell is going on over there?"
"Hey, Heine, it's your favorite redhead," she responded, stretching her legs before hobbling off to find a vehicle to hijack. "Just dispatch a team to pick him up and he should be able to walk after some rehab."
"Redhead? Wait—what?"
"What day is it?"
"What? Why are you—"
"Heine, just answer the question."
He hesitated, but ended up replying anyway. She was surprised he trusted her so easily. "It's May the 5th. Now what the hell is going on?"
Two weeks, huh? she thought, stopping for a second to catch her breath. She had just made it through the side door and safely inside the hanger, but now had to find some sort of moving vehicle. She had the feeling most of them were being used and—needless to say—she would be pissed if that was the case. After doing all of that work, crippling a fellow redcoat, and being so close to her own freedom she felt her luck should take a break and Helmaya should just give her a chance. Let her save what luck she had left and just have a jeep pop out of thin air in front of her. Yeah, that was a good idea.
"Crescent!"
"Keep it down, would ya?" She smirked, impressed he had picked up on the fact that she had used a fake name. "I'm not exactly in the best circumstances to be screaming at you through open airwaves."
"Just give me some kind of explanation."
"I'm gonna need some info as well. I've just had a hellish couple of weeks and just when I was strapped in and ready for my next drug dosage, the nurses run off and—"
"Woah—wait—what?"
"You wanted an explanation." She stopped. Turning and ducking behind some crates when she heard footsteps echoing on the other side of the facility. There were quite a few storage crates between her and the steps, but the fact that someone else was in there made her curse. Why was someone in a dark hangar?
"Crescent!"
"Hush!" The footsteps slowed and eventually came to a stop after Heine spoke. Male voices sounded outside the hangar's closed door back and to her right, saying something about hearing a noise and the redhead cursed again. Standing, she had no choice but to head to her left and towards the rear of the hangar. It was a risky move because there was neither a vehicle in sight nor an exit that she was aware of at that end of the building.
"Lexi, talk to me." He used her real name. She knew he was serious even without him resorting to those drastic measures.
"This isn't a secure line, Heine. I can't tell you everything."
"Fine." He sighed. "Just tell me this, are you the one we're looking for?"
Of all the times to be vague, she thought, hobbling and collapsing behind another crate further back. Another door did catch her eye then, in the back corner of the hangar. There must have been one near where she had entered the alleyway before but in her previous state she had missed it. While she wasn't happy to be right back to where she had started, it was at least a way out and away from the voices at the other end of the hangar.
"That depends," she began, crawling onto her knees towards the door and finding shelter behind the last crate before her final dash to the handle. Leaning back against the wooded frame, she took a moment to catch her breath and do a weapon's check. "Are you looking for a runaway lab rat?"
"I'm being serious."
"So am I."
He was quiet for a little bit—digesting the information most likely. "No, we're not."
"Let me know if you start. I'm sure I'm suspicious no matter what, but I don't want to go back there. Where are you?" He never got a chance to answer. Footsteps sounded to her right and she dropped the radio. Using both hands, she pointed the gun at the person to her right who seemed to be aiming for the same door she was about the rush towards. Eclipse started to pull the trigger, but even in the dark she saw a strand of pink hair and the sleeve of a white dress just before she fired, startling her enough to avert the shot away from anything vital. The bullet grazed the person's upper right arm, but she didn't squeal. Actually, she didn't do much of anything and neither did Eclipse. They just stared at each other, stunned, the echo of the shot reverberating off the metal interior. L-Lacus Clyne?
It took her a second but eventually the singer recognized Eclipse. Taking another moment to look at the redhead's condition, Lacus blinked and then grinned. It was a small smile but still held the warmth Eclipse had remembered from all those months ago.
"Miss Eclipse, such an interesting place to see you again." Lifting her left arm, she waved a small radio and smiled. Either she had come across it and was accidentally listening in on the conversation between her and Heine, or the Pink Princess was more resourceful than Eclipse had ever imagined.
A/N: Alright guys, another installment. I'm sure this leaves you with more questions than answers, but those will be cleared up within the next couple of stories. Yes, stories. I'm sure most of you have already figured this out, but Waltz is only the first book in my massive Lexi-World (Sorry, couldn't come up with anything better than that). To some, that may be a good thing. To others, I'm thinking it's a pain because you want to know answers now! Sorry, I have to keep those who want to keep reading interested. :P Anyway, ask me some questions and I just might give out the answers. Not on the public forum, of course.
Poor Heine. That's all I really have to say for him. The short end of the stick again, but it's nice to see him in a commanding position, and not doing too bad of a job either. He even sounds like he knows what he's doing. Too bad he's gonna have to answer to someone about talking to Eclipse across the radio and why Baymont is having trouble walking. Anyway, I'm sure he can handle it. He was chosen to be the pilot of the Freedom, right? ...Damn you Kira Yamato.
Oh, my classes are done for now and I have a two week break before my next-and final!-semester begins. I'll see what I can dish out in that time.
As usual, huge thank you to my betas and their deadly red pens!
And thanks to my avid readers and reviewers! Can't do it without you.
Questions/Gripes:
Darkangelsonic: I have a feeling Stray will be coming back fairly soon. Don't you worry. :)
Thanks again everyone and I'll see you next chapter!
Strata