Chapter 2:
626
I
"Oh, w-w-welcome, 626," 10 shook the newcomer's hand as if it were a rubber chicken.
"I'm, uh, I'm E-Experiment n-number 10,"
"Is that a new one?" 149 called, jogging from 221's bedside to see for herself.
"Oh, cool, he's not green. We've got way too many green ones." She ruffled the top of 626's head.
"I'm number 149, and you must be number 626,"
"I guess so," The blue Experiment ducked out of 149's reach. "Alright, so; 149..." 626 pointed at each Experiment in front of him.
"10. Dr. Jumba said you're our medic; we go to you if we get hurt with plasma or anything like that. Not that I'd need to worry about that-"
"What's that, now?" 149 interrupted.
"Oh, he hasn't told you? Whatever this plasma stuff is, Dr. Jumba says it won't hurt me...I assume that's good,"
"Oh, so now we've got a plasma-proof one?!" 221 exclaimed. "Well, isn't Jumba just the grand fucking councilman of timing!"
"Hm," The blue Experiment nodded, approaching the electrician's bed while focusing on his bandaged foot. He had already seen the covered wounds of several other Experiments on his way in, and with each one, he felt something like a vise clamping tighter and tighter around his gut.
"And which one are you?" He asked.
"I'm number one-million-two-thousand-three-hundred-and-forty-five!" 221 joked. He earned nothing more than a look of bemusement from 626.
"Alright, I'm Number 221. Sorry the first time you see me has to be like this,"
"It's not your fault," 626 replied; it was more of a factual statement than an acceptance of the apology.
"EXPERIMENTS 149, 150, 300, 345, 621, 624, 626, REPORT TO THE LAUNCH DECK FOR DEBRIEFING!" Jumba's voice rang through the base like a message from God.
"Wow, Jumba, wanna give me some time to scratch my ass between missions?" 149 muttered. "But 345's comin', though, so you know it's gonna be fun," She nudged 626 with her elbow.
"C'Mon, Blue. I bet everyone's dyin' to meet ya,"
626 looked over his shoulder as 149 lead him to the door.
10 gave him a timid wave, his claws parallel to his shoulder. 221 waved with only his fingers, between which rolled sparks as the wounded Experiment gave a sly grin to the newcomer.
II
626 clenched his fists as 149 lead him through the bustling crowds of Experiments. There was a tall one with four copiously muscled arms, one with long claws like rapiers, and another who appeared to be made of ice. 626, however, cared little for their appearances as long as their combined body heat made him sweat.
His head hurt significantly less than it had on his autopiloted pod ride. Even so, he was still perturbed by the thoughts swirling around in his head that were not quite his own. They were more like thoughts he was renting from somebody else.
The Galactic Federation is governed by a Grand Councilwoman.
Jumba has created us to overthrow the Grand Councilwoman.
I want to overthrow the Grand Councilwoman. I want to be in charge.
The others will help me. I will help the others.
I want to be in charge.
He had only just become adjusted to walking. He jogged to keep up with 149's brisk pace through the crowd; his legs did not feel tired, but they felt fragile, like fresh dough.
Once they had reached the quiet hallway leading to the launch bay, 626 was offered a distraction from his intrusive thoughts and his adjusting legs.
"Newcomer!" A high and playful voice was accompanied by the spontaneous appearance of a new face, this one hanging upside-down from the ceiling.
This Experiment's fur around was bright green, with a white patch surrounding his face and then encompassing his belly. Three floppy fins dangled from his head; he looked like he was wearing a jester's cap. He had a green nose that 626, for whatever reason, wished was red. His smile was so bright that 626 could not even imagine it in a battle. The newcomer looked up at the Experiment's feet, and found a right leg five times the length of its opposite, and a three-toed foot stuck to the ceiling.
"Aw, sorry if I scared you, 626," The Experiment's foot detached from the ceiling, and he flipped himself upright with gleeful grace. His leg shortened like measuring tape returning to its holder.
"I'm Number 345." He shook 626's hand as excitedly as 10 had. His fingers were squishy in 626's grasp; there was a layer of fur, and then another of rubber. If 345 had bones, 626 couldn't find them.
"That the new guy, stretch?" Somebody called from the launch bay. From where he stood, 626 could see that the other invited Experiments were already awaiting him and 149.
"What?!" 345 called back. 626 saw that his waist twisted like a wringed towel, while his feet remained planted on the metal floor.
"Is that the new guy?!"
"Oh! Yeah, it's him, 624!"
"Well, bring him over!"
"What?!"
"I said bring him over!"
"What?!"
"I SAID-"
"Kidding!" The elastic Experiment looped an arm each around 149 and 626, stretched a leg all the way down the hallway to the launch bay, and then let it carry them over.
"Toldja it'd be fun," 149 laughed.
626 chuckled, too, but was secretly displeased at being robbed of more time to exercise his uncertain legs.
He was let down the moment they were in the launch bay. Once he had regained his brittle footing, he turned to find 345 giggling as one of 624's antennae held him upside-down by the ankle, while she stuck a clawed finger up his green nose.
"Many of us tend to do things like this," 300 said to the newcomer. "Good for morale. You will grow used to it." He noticed 626's daunted stare turned to his watery, shapeless body.
"You will grow used to this, as well,"
The screen above them, which 626 only now noticed, buzzed to life, revealing the four-eyed face of the Experiments' creator.
"My dears, I am excited to introduce you to your first plasma-proof comrade!" He waved his four sausages of fingers to the new Experiment. "Did the pod deliver you safely, 626?"
"Uh, just fine, sir," The newcomer hurriedly replied.
"Excellent! Now, I'm sure you'd like to get your first assignment, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, sir," 626 cleared his throat. He was looking forward to a topic other than himself.
"Please, sir,"
"Well, I think you'll all be thrilled by this," Jumba rubbed his meaty hands together, smiling with childishness that rivalled 345's.
"258 and his group managed to uncover some information regarding the Federation's current militaristic maneuvers...This includes the position of Captain Gantu,"
Every present Experiment's face lit up at the announcement; even 621 managed a scheming smirk.
626 was hesitant to join in the excitement, but as he listened, his intrigue grew.
"If we can eliminate him," Jumba continued. "It would put the Federation at an enormous disadvantage,"
"No shit," 621 muttered, maintaining his smirk.
Jumba gave him a hurt look, and then returned to his briefing after a moment of discomforting silence.
"I've sent the coordinates to pod number four. get to that ship, find Gantu, and...Well, you know the rest. Good luck, little ones." With that, the screen returned to its initial black state.
"Right, let's get to it!" 621 marched through one of the ten circular hatches along the wall.
"626..." 300 said quietly to the newcomer as the others followed 621. "Whatever happens, just let 621 do as he will,"
"Oh, uh, sure," 626 replied. "Why?"
"He will tell you," The shapeshifter said. "I know he will...Now come. It is time for your education,"
III
The Experiments' black pod descended to a vessel a thousand times its size, like a colossal whale swimming through the stars. The pod stopped a little more than an inch above the ship.
626 stepped out onto the dark, steel surface, and his allies followed alongside.
"There's a window ahead," 621 said. "We'll enter through there." He marched onward without looking back at his group, though they followed him readily.
"150?"
"Yup, yup, I got it." The large Experiment stepped up. The vessel's hull slanted downward before the windshield, which was a wide oval like a single stolid eye. 150 made his way around the windshield, then strode menacingly along the other side of it while extending his metal palm, which began to glow gold. His face was firm and unimpressed as the gold beam shot from his hand, obliterating the windshield.
Shattering glass harmonized with writhing screams.
621 motioned firmly to be followed as he and 150 jumped through the new shard-bordered opening.
626 entered with his allies, finding himself in a smoky room that, seconds ago, would have been illuminated with the flashing buttons of its many consoles, but now bore more resemblance to a scrapyard. A scrapyard littered with motionless armored bodies.
"Oop, looks like ya missed one, bud," 149 leaped playfully onto 150's right shoulder, pointing at a crawling body near a circular doorway that almost reached the room's high ceiling.
"Oh...Sorry, shorts," The metal-handed Experiment said, blushing.
"Hey, don't call me shorts!" 149 pushed a foot into 150's reddening cheek. "You wanna finish this last one off, blue? A good ol' stomp at the neck oughtta do the trick,"
626 felt humid; he knew everyone was looking right at him, although he never looked anywhere except at the crawling thing beside the door. He walked towards it, feeling a strange magnetic force urging him forwards, like he was going through a tunnel rather than a spacious, smoking room.
He was beside the crawling thing now, and still it continued to crawl as if it could hope to ever escape, its legs dragging behind him like two meaty tails. 626 looked down at it for a while, taking small steps to stay beside it, and listened to it. It heaved with every reach of its three-fingered hands. There was an emblem on his left arm, just below the shoulder; a white background behind a black oval with six lines like legs on a spider's body, each ending in another, smaller circle. The image and its presence on the soldier's armor confused 626.
The thing stopped reaching and heaving, and allowed 626 to stand still. It turned its head on the floor and, through a crack in his helmet, glared up at him with a bloody red eye.
626 looked back down at the armored thing. He was curious. He was intrigued. He tilted his head, then lifted his foot.
The red eye widened. 626 saw a tear, and felt strange. He was not scared. He was not guilty. He only felt strange, like he were suffering from a fever.
The armored thing's hand jumped onto 626's grounded foot. The Experiment's feverish feeling worsened. He brought his other foot down. There was a hard crunch, and then all traces of the fever were gone.
"Good job, newbie," 624 patted him on the back. "Yeah, it's nice to savour it sometimes, isn't it?"
"Right..." 621 spoke, and all eyes became gravitated towards him. "We should stay on the ceiling as much as we can. Not only will Gantu be scanning the floor for us, but it'll be easier to land a headshot once we find him."
He stopped for a moment, as if lost in a troublesome (or exciting) thought. He took a quick glance out the doorway behind him. The towering hallway split into two paths.
"We'll break into groups," The marksman continued. "300, you and 345 head down the right corridor. 624 and 626, we'll take the left,"
"Yes, sir," 626 answered concisely.
"149 and 150, you stay here and hack into the ship's systems. Keep any distress calls from getting out, check the cameras for Gantu-"
"Yeah, yeah, we know the drill," 149 interrupted, hopping down from 150's shoulder. "We've been doin' this longer than you, ya know,"
"I know." 621 managed a small smile. "You all know what to do. Move out!" He and 300 stormed down opposite sides of the following corridor, quickly followed by their assigned teams.
"Don't wait up!" 149 called after them.
IV
A weaker version of the fever he had felt minutes ago encompassed 626 as he crawled hastily over the metal ceiling. His head was hot, filled with more blood than usual. His palms and soles strained each time they clung to the inverted surface.
"How do you guys not feel sick?" He eventually asked 624 and 621, who kept just a few inches ahead of him.
"We do," 621 stated.
"If you're gonna puke, save it 'till we see some soldiers beneath us," 624 suggested, looking back at the newest Experiment with an excited smile.
"I'll, uh, I'll try," He smiled back, but it was short lived. Having crawled for several minutes without distraction, 626 found a question biting more vehemently at his mind.
"Can I ask you something, 621?"
"Hm?" The marksman grunted as if he expected to be asked for permission to use the bathroom.
"Before we left, 300 talked like this was a really important mission to you. He said you'd tell me why,"
621 inhaled. His speedy crawl decelerated, and his two allies slowed down to remain beside him.
"We don't have to talk about it right now, 621," 624 said.
"No, it's alright," The marksman sighed. "Now's probably the best time, anyway…" He looked at 626, who felt like the expansive hallway around them had shrunk into a space only barely wide enough to hold him and his two comrades.
"The last time we had the chance to assassinate Captain Gantu…" 621 began, "Was with 501 and 502...Jumba programmed their genetic codes as two parts to an explosive formula, so if they ever touched, they would destroy everything around them. After ages of keeping them apart at base, both of them were ordered with me, 300, and others on a crucial mission to murder Gantu. We got separated, and 501 and 502 were cornered by Federation soldiers...502 was shot in the spine with what we now know was plasma. He and 501 figured that the only way to kill Gantu then was…"
He only sighed. His black eyes shut, and his head drooped to the ceiling beneath him.
626 thought about asking how Gantu escaped. Then he banished the question from his brain, and scorned himself for even daring to consider asking it.
"Unfortunately," 621 started again, his eyes open but his head still down. "Gantu was smart enough to get to the other end of the ship, just out of the fatal range of the blast. He was hurt, but he got away. The Federation got to keep him...But we lost 501 and 502…"
626 kept silent.
624 turned to him.
"So we're here now to even things out," She said.
626 only nodded. His body was taken by a hot sensation, not like the fever he had felt above the crawling thing, but an unrelenting itch that begged him to find Gantu. It coursed through his body, but it was strongest in his claws.
"Ssh," 621 whispered, his three-fingered hand darting out at his allies. A rifle that had been on his back was now on his shoulder.
626 looked up at the floor, where he found a marching troupe of about a dozen creatures, armored in black and looking very much like the crawling thing from the control room.
"My cousin, Mahrla," One of them said. "She told me that one of them can get in your head. Mess with your dreams,"
"Bullshit," Another scoffed.
"No, no, he's right," Another one interjected. "My old commanding officer from Turo; I heard him screaming his head off one night. Me and a bunch of other officers broke down the door to his quarters and...We found him with a hole in his head and a blaster in his hand...And one of those freaks, legless and floating and giggling like some shitty little kid...And it just flew right past us. Barely even looked at us…"
"Damn…" The one before whispered. "...You know if they've upped ship defenses because of things like that-" His sentence, and his life, were cut short by a bolt through the scalp from 621's rifle.
"Kovacks!"
"Nothing like practicing with the real thing!" 624 chirped to 626 as she dropped to the floor after 621.
The blue Experiment followed suit. Though his allies each landed on an unfortunate officer, 626 landed in a kneeling position on the metal floor. He jerked his head up as his blood rushed away from his face, and found himself looking down the barrel of a white blaster.
626 gazed beyond the blaster. Through the visor of the soldier's helmet, he could just barely see a pair of eyes, smaller than 621's but every bit as piercing and seething.
626 had all of a second to look at those eyes before his face was filled with a sickly green light. There was an ear-shattering shoom, and 626 froze, his heart in his throat, his face boiling, and his eyes wet.
And then he realized that his face had only been splattered with some smelly green putty.
626 looked back at the eyes in the visor; 621's eyes were gone.
"Oh, no, no, are you fucking serious?!" The soldier backed away from the new Experiment.
626 stood up, wiping the thick substance off of his face. He looked right at the soldier who might have killed him, finding that he only continued to back up when approached. 626 could feel, could practically smell this creature's fear, trapped between knowing that he could never defeat his opponent, and not wanting to run away.
626 remembered the crawling thing from earlier.
With speed that surprised the Experiment as much as the soldier, 626 reached out and grasped the officer's helmet, then had him on the floor with a downward flick of his arm. Finally, with a stomp of his foot, he put an end to the soldier's fear.
626 looked up straight away, and found the remaining five soldiers (he saw two more alive for all of a microsecond before they were respectively shot in the neck by 621, and cracked like a bundle of sticks over 624's back.) aiming their blasters at him.
The blue Experiment did nothing as he was again coated in the putrid green slime. The five survivors' reactions were practically identical to their fallen comrade's.
"In your defense," 624 said to a stunned soldier, grasping his neck while snaring another's with one of her antennae.
"276 does have an annoying laugh." She smashed her captives' skulls together.
621 put a bolt in another soldier's gut. The armored creature fell to the floor like a bag of flour.
With two opponents still facing him, a green-covered 626 charged at the one on his right.
The officer fired another desperate dose of the green chemical. It splashed over 626's knee.
The blue Experiment heard something like a gasp; more of an abrupt inhale, before driving his fist into the soldier's helmet. There was a choir of cracks and shatters, and then the body flew down the hallway before landing in a degrading splay in the distance.
626 looked out at his victim, and then down at his fist, which dripped with plasma, and gave it a complimenting whistle.
"Not bad, newbie," 624 called to him. He turned and found her restraining the only surviving soldier in a bear hug.
"Oh, thanks," The blue Experiment replied, turning to her and 621, who looked down upon the corpses as if he had discovered a garden infested with weeds.
"Welcome. You've, uh…" The ends of her antennae wiggled around her face. "You've just something there, you might wanna…"
"Oh, sure." 626 got to work wiping the coat of plasma off of his fur. It plopped on the metal floor and bubbled like boiling water at his feet.
"These guys don't seem very bright, do they?"
"Nuh-uh." 624 shook her head. "How many you think you could take?"
"A couple, probably...We'll have to see." He felt completely confident in his claim, but more than, he felt hot. Not scorching; just enough to keep him cozy. He still itched, though, but he was beginning to relish it as it coursed from his face down to his claws.
"Good, because this is what we do to everyday…" 624 replied, looking around at the fallen fighters. But there are usually more of 'em,"
"A lot more," 621 added. "My guess is that they're worried we'll try and blow up Gantu again. If they have to lose him, may as well reduce the lesser casualties." He stepped up to 624's captive, close enough to lick his visor.
"The footmen." The marksman smacked the soldier. "Captain Gantu?" He was answered only with spit between his eyes.
"You know…" 621 wiped the saliva away with his thumb. "It's getting ever more difficult to get the smell of spit out of my fur." He headbutted the soldier, shattering part of his visor, and revealing a single glaring, yellow, tear-stained eye.
"I can just sing to him, 621," 624 volunteered.
"You're sure? You don't have to,"
"You know the spitters never talk. May as well save ourselves the time and the energy,"
"...Fine. You go ahead," He joined 626 and, to the latter's befuddlement, covered his own ears.
The blue Experiment moved to plug his ears as well.
"You'll be OK," 621 denoted.
626 lowered his hands, still confused as he watched 624 lean into the left ear of her captive.
"Freedom. Fortitude. Federation." The soldier growled.
626 saw his yellow eye burn, but once 624 opened her mouth, it almost immediately relaxed. The only aspect of its former state remaining were its tears.
Though the lyrics were clear to 626 and 621, they were gibberish to the soldier, and yet he cherished every note.
"Acoota chi-meeto,
Igatta no mootah,
Nagga to nala,
Itume tidooka,"
"Oh…" Was all the soldier could say at first. A few seconds later (during which 624 rolled her eyes and groaned.), he managed some more.
"That was heavenly...Would you sing it again for me?"
"Hmm..." 624 pretended to consider the request, stroking the fur on her chin between a finger and thumb, which she removed from her hold on the soldier without fear of losing him.
"Please?!"
"How about you help me with something first?" 624 suggested. "And then maybe I'll sing for you again, if you're good,"
"What would you have me do?" The soldier whispered, turning to face 624 with his fists clenched.
"Well, you could show us where Captain Gantu is right now,"
"Certainly! Just follow me, my angel..." The soldier seemed to float onto his feet, walking down the corridor as if through a dream.
"I'm not your fucking angel," 624 whispered as she followed with her allies.
"Hey, uh, can I ask you something, 624?" 626 said. The warmth from the battle had since been replaced by something that was perhaps too hot for comfort.
"Ask away,"
"I was just wondering, uh...What that whole song thing is?" He scorned his mouth for releasing such clumsy, incompetent sentences.
"That's my function," 624 answered without looking at him. She sounded irritated, but she looked more disappointed.
"You're anti-plasma, 621's got his deadeye, 10's our doctor. I can make people do whatever I tell them after singing this song. Jumba made my vocal chords emit some kind of special frequency or some shit like that,"
"...I like it,"
"I hate it. It's super useful, sure, but it makes people look at me like creeps. Jumba could've just made it a 'yes sir, no sir' thing, but no! He had to make it be a horny thing!"
626 kept silent. The heat was changing again.
"...It won't work on you or 625, or anyone who comes after you. Some kind of stupid safeguard. I found that out the hard way...Damn 625..." She shut her eyes. 626 saw her fist clench, and knew that she felt the same itch in her claws that he did in his.
He knew that she felt it more.
"...Sorry to bitch there," 624 sighed, looking up at the new Experiment with a look not relieved of frustration; only taking a short break from it.
"It's just...You're gonna keep finding out about all the shit Jumba's done to us. Not just 501 and 502 or my horndog song,"
"Sometimes I think he only sees us as his own toys," 621 added.
626 looked at both of them, and then at the soldier in front of them, still floating down the tall corridor.
The itch was growing.
IV
A few more minutes saw the three Experiments and their brainwashed guide face-to-face with 345, accompanied by a soldier coated in something pale and green.
"Oh, hey, you guys!" The clown waved. "Long time, no see,"
"Thus far, this time has proven infinitely less excruciating than last time," 300's trenchant voice came out of the pale green soldier. The sickly layer than peeled itself off of the body, which dropped to the floor as if suddenly drained of life.
"I don't like it,"
"This where he is?" 624 asked the lightheaded soldier, nodding to a tall door on her left.
"Yes, my ang-"
"Yeah, great, thanks. Does he have some kind of trap for us in there?"
"No, my ang-" He was silenced with a passive punch that knocked him flat.
"My informant believed likewise," 300 said. "Although Gantu may have simply withheld that knowledge from his troops,"
"If there is something," 621 replied, looking up at the door as if it were a statue. "Then 149 and 150 will take care of it. They should be in the ship's systems by now."
"Ten minutes ago, actually," A familiar bouncy accent filled the corridor. "I'm a little insulted, 621,"
"Oh, that's pretty neat," 626 smiled as he looked up at the walls.
"Thanks, newbie. Glad somebody can recognize talent,"
"Hey, 149!" 345 called. "D'ya know if Gantu's got a surprise for us behind this door?"
"He's got a little somethin', yeah. Nothin' you guys can't handle, though, 'specially with 626,"
"Speaking of which," Now there was the gruff, low voice of 150. "You should probably go first, new guy. And everyone else stand back,"
626 was initially harrowed by the suggestion, but then he realized what the trap must be, and he wiped away his fear as he had done to the plasma mere minutes ago.
"Gantu's the one in for a surprise," 149 added. You guys are lucky; you're gonna see his giant dumbass fish-face in person,"
With that, the blue Experiment stepped up to the door, digging his claws into the vertical crack down its center. The flawless door became two crumpled pillars of metal, and with another powerful push, they were torn from their place and a path was made.
Before 626 could even glimpse at the room beyond, he was smothered by a thunderous torrent of plasma. To the new Experiment, the universe had only become a wet, windy space of hideous green and a putrid stench.
"Okay, now he's just being mean," He heard 345 remark just before the torrent began its decline.
When it finally stopped, a green 626 stood in a lake of bubbling plasma, his allies untouched, and the small meeting room ahead was revealed, along with a giant creature armored just as the other soldiers were. His grey, black-eyed face had a fin protruding from each cheek, and it stared down at the plasma-coated Experiment from behind an enormous crimson blaster.
"How?!" Captain Gantu exclaimed, pulling the trigger again, but earning only a pathetic click and a soft, disapproving beep.
626 looked up as he began brushing the plasma off of him, and found 345 swinging into the room on an elongated arm, with 621 in tow.
"Swinger Special!" The clown declared merrily as he threw 621 at Gantu's head.
The marksman fired his blaster on his way to the giant, scoring a shot in the shoulder.
Gantu screamed, and he continued to as 621 landed on his face and began scratching him like an infuriated bear.
345 moved as if he were going to sweep the giant, but instead his leg extended around both of Gantu's. With a mighty pull, the captain was sent to the floor, his face being bloodied by 621 all the while.
626 watched on, all but his feet cleared of plasma. Though he had been impressed by 621's fighting skills thus far, it was still surreal to see something so small take down something so huge so swiftly.
Surreal, yet inspiring.
624 and 300 dropped down in front of the lake of plasma. 626 joined them, wiping plasma from each foot against the opposite ankle.
"Did 621 speak with you?" The shapeshifter asked him, watching as 621's claws dove into Gantu's massive mouth.
"Yeah," 626 replied. "He and 624 told me a lot about 501 and 502, and the other things Jumba's done to us." He watched the marksman pull at something in Gantu's jaw, and was unperturbed by the resounding cry.
"And there's still more to tell," 300 responded. "So, I trust that now you understand not only this mission's significance to our cause, but also to 621?"
"I do…" 626 heard a moist snap as 621 ripped his hand from Gantu's mouth, and then looked down at the severed brick-sized tooth in his grip, as if fearfully admiring it.
"But to be honest…" The blue Experiment looked down at his claws, which were still possessed by that intoxicating itch. They pulsated with each pained or bodily sound that came from Gantu.
"I think Jumba's the real enemy here," He turned to 300, who, after a few moments, turned to him and nodded.
626 turned to 624, and found her facing him with a look of stern conviction. When their eyes met, her lips stretched into a smile that would be ominous to anyone else, but to 626, it was welcoming.
"Are, uh, are you gonna keep that, 621?" 345 asked once the marksman had spent about ten seconds looking at the bloody tooth.
"...That's a great idea, 345," The green Experiment grinned evilly over his shoulder, then returned his attention to Gantu, leaving 345 looking befuddled and feeling foolish.
"Remember me?" 621 growled, leaning the barrel of his blaster against a fin on the captain's face.
"I do…" Was the strained answer. "Six-Hundred-And-Twenty...One, I believe. Yes, I remember you. On the day that Five-Hundred-And-One and Five-Hundred-And-Two were eliminated." A firm kick arrived right on the heels of his sentence.
"And now you've come to finish the job," Through clenched teeth. "In all honesty, you abomination, aren't you a little disappointed?"
Gantu was at first answered with only a cold glare. Then the marksman shook his head, and his glare evolved into a grin so scheming, so malicious, and so fiery that the giant captain felt true, mind-bending terror.
For the first time in this endless and excruciating war, Captain Gantu saw the face of death.
"You two still there?" 621 called to the air behind him, but he kept his penetrating grin on Gantu.
"Yeah; been watching the whole time," 150 answered casually.
"Little disappointed in fishface there," 149 added. "The guy can command, but he can't fight for shit. Guess bein' so damn tall makes ya sloppy,"
"Guess so," 621 muttered. "Tell me; does this ship have a self-destruct mechanism?" His burning eyes brightened. He nearly laughed out loud when he saw Gantu's eyes widen.
"Lemme see…" 150 said. "Yup. The Judgement Hour Protocol, it's called,"
"Turn it on," The marksman commanded.
"Ah, I see what you're goin' for," 149 snickered. "You ice cold genius. Alright; how's five minutes sound?"
"I think we'll be safe with two," 621 replied, leaning in closer to Gantu's paling face. "You can carry us back in that amount of time, can't you, 345?" He did not face him.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, sure I can," The clown answered, wiping sweat from his jester cap-like brow.
"Okay, then. Self-destruct in-"
"SHIP COMBUSTION IN T-MINUS TWO MINUTES!"
"They always gotta change the damn name,"
621 reached down and touch Gantu's pale cheek, then turned away from him with one final scratch.
"Come on," He said to his comrades, who were waiting anxiously for him to follow them.
"Let's get the hell out of-"
Gantu suddenly reached out, his arm dripping blood, and snared both 621 and 345 in his fist.
The clown yelped, while the marksman immediately bit down on the captain's finger. He bit as hard as he could, but Gantu matched him in the strength of his grip, which qrew to a tightness too suffocating for 621 to continue his retaliation.
"Aw, crap! Hold on, you guys!" 150 exclaimed. The ship's grating robotic voice returned only five seconds later.
"SHIP COMBUSTION IN T-MINUS FIVE MINUTES!"
Gantu reached for the remaining three Experiments, who evaded his enormous fingers.
624 leaped onto the captain's outstretched arm, crawling up it like a speedy insect before diving for Gantu's head. She was caught in midair.
"Sometimes the best way is the shittiest," She sighed. "Acoota chi-" She quickly found a gigantic thumb sticking upward into her chin, forcing her head up and her mouth shut.
"I've heard plenty about you, too, Six-Hundred-And-Twenty-Four," Gantu grunted.
"F'ck yuh," 624 snarled through her restrained jaw.
Gantu then found himself approached by both 300, reaching for him like a watery tree branch growing constantly taller, and the elongated feet of 345, protruding from the bottom of the captain's own fist. He made short work of the double threat by slamming the fist clutching 345 and 621 on top of the shapeshifter, creating a splash that remained airborne as 300 groaned.
"OW!" 345 yelped. Then, quietly and weakly, "My toes,"
"SHIP COMBUSTION IN T-MINUS FOUR MINUTES THIRTY SECONDS!"
"Enough time to crush one last abomination," Gantu muttered, lifting a giant foot above a paling 626.
The foot came down at an alarming rate; all 626 could do was hold his arms up. He felt a heavy force shoot through his arms, and the heat that had possessed him for the whole mission vanished, leaving him freezing.
The whole universe seemed to freeze for all of a moment.
And then he realized that the foot had stopped in his hands.
His mind raced as his body heated up again, even hotter than it had been before. He looked over his shoulder, saw the lake of bubbling plasma, and thought no more. He dropped Gantu's foot into the putrid chemical.
The captain screamed once again, and loosened his grip on his captives for all of a second, but it was all they needed to break free.
"Nice one, new guy!" 149 cheered. "Wait 'till I tell lightnin' 'bout this! Now get the hell back here, will ya?!"
"We're coming, 149!" 621 exclaimed. "Cut the countdown back down! Don't give this bastard enough time to come after us!"
"Why does Jacques make you things so emotional?" Gantu questioned, his face damp with sweat as he lay on the floor, his arms around his wounded leg.
"For all his smarts, he only prolongs all this by imbuing you with his own passion,"
"SHIP COMBUSTION IN T-MINUS TWO MINUTES!"
"Jacques?" 626 responded. "You mean Jumba?"
"No, I mean Jacques," Gantu corrected, and then his eyes widened in realization. Not a fearful one, though; one of the most piercing curiosity.
"Your creator, alongside Jumba. You must know him." He was answered only with pale versions of his own shocked expression.
"No?" Through his pain, he managed a smirk sly and triumphant enough to reveal the hole where a tooth had been a few minutes ago.
"Guys, come on!" 150 pleaded.
"Let's go, guys!" 345 hurriedly scooped up his companions in his elongated arms; 626 and 624 in one, 621 and 300 in the other.
"Oh, man, my toes,"
626 watched Gantu struggle to his feet as the rubbery Experiment carried him back down the corridor on stilt-like legs. It was now his head that itched more than his claws, although that itch was still very much present. He turned his head, finding each of his allies staring intently at nowhere in particular. Though he lacked 300's telepathic powers, 626 knew what word was gnawing on each of their brains.
Jacques.
"SHIP COMBUSTION IN T-MINUS THIRTY SECONDS!"
"Two freaking minutes!" 150 shouted once the long-legged clown and his passengers came into view. The metal-handed Experiment leaned out of the open gull wing door of the rebellion's hovering pod.
149 could be seen in the pilot's seat, keeping the pod idle just outside the ship's shattered windshield, its whirring jets silent underneath the blaring alarm.
345 stepped into the control room, his foot landing beside the head of a fallen soldier, and then stretched his other leg up towards the pod.
150 grasped the elongated leg with his flesh hand and pulled it into the vehicle.
The clown began his ascent, but just as he passed the jagged glass of the windshield, the alarm silenced for all of a second, and then there was a monstrous bang, a hellish heat, and a stinging wind striking the Experiments' backs.
626 felt fire possess his body more fiercely than it ever had before, and for the first time, it terrified him.
V
He was falling, and then drifting through space.
He couldn't breathe; this wasn't a concern yet, but he knew it would be very soon.
Half of his vision was cooled by the vast, serene starscape, and the other half was a blinding cloud of orange fire. The darkness of space became as bright and as scorching as a sun.
He thought of 501 and 502, and how he would soon be joining them, and how frustrated and crestfallen his comrades would be that Gantu could not be killed without dragging one of their own down with him.
He felt crushing fear. He felt his lungs gradually tiring.
He felt something stuck to the sole of his foot.
626 looked down (or up) and discovered that the thing sticking to him was the sole of 624's foot.
He saw her grinning down (up) at him from a sweat-dampened face, and above that saw her holding onto 345's elongated arm. Above him, 150, still in the pod, clutched his ally's long leg.
626 looked left, and found 621 and 300 on 345's other arm.
150 began pulling them up hand over metal hand, and 626 was chilled with relief that made him almost forget not only the burning cloud still beside them, but also the growing exhaustion of his lungs.
He reached down (up) and took hold of 624's ankle. She smiled wider and extended a hand, which 626 obliged immediately before disconnecting their feet from one another.
As he was pulled up, he looked back, past the grumbling fire, and saw another pod, four times the size of the Experiments'; more like a small ship.
626 didn't know how, but he knew that the pilot was Captain Gantu.
By the time 624 was helping him into the pod, where the transparent oxygen field relieved his tiring lungs, Gantu's pod had sped out of site.
"You play, new guy?" 345 asked, sitting down beside 626 and patting him on the shoulder.
"That was scary, huh?" He pulled his feet up to him, wrapping a rubbery hand around his toes.
"Gantu got away," The blue Experiment interjected. By now, 624 was sitting on his other side. 150 was beside 345. 621 and 300 were up front with 149.
"I saw his pod leaving! We have to go after him!"
"We saw it too, blue," 149 said. "But it just took off. No way we'll catch up to it now,"
"But we've got to try!"
"It won't do any good, 626," 621 began, his face still serious, but the eyes within it melting like ice in the sun.
"We'll never find him ourselves. But best case scenario, he bleeds out before he can get to the next Federation safehouse. Worst case, we find him again and kill him then."
"And ask him about Jacques..." 626 looked around at the others. "So nobody knows anything about a Jacques?"
"It would seem Jumba has been hiding some third party from us..." 300 said.
"I did tell you that the bastard had something up his sleeve," 621 turned to him.
"I believed you. I only wanted to research further before seeking confrontation,"
"Betcha 10 knows something about Jacques," 624 suggested. "Jumba didn't start building us for combat until after him, so maybe Jacques was around more before then,"
"That sounds feasible," 300 replied. "149, would you?"
"Thought you'd never ask," The short Experiment pressed two buttons on the hemicycle steering wheel, and the pod rocketed through the stars.
"Oh, and blue; you did great for your first day,"
626 did not respond. As his deathly terror left him bit by bit, it was replaced by the fever and the itching that had encompassed him earlier. Now, however, it took the form of just one faceless word in his head, and though it intensified the feeling, it also boosted his own hypnotic enjoyment of it.
Jacques.
VI
"Then there was this other one..." 221 called down to the other bedridden Experiments. "Thought it would be such a genius idea to grab onto my feet as I was flying over him,"
"Gotta love that first-rate Federation military training," 33 snickered.
"What was he even hoping to do with you once he got a hold of you?" 177 asked.
"Maybe tickle him or something," 120 scoffed.
"Aliens are weird," 221 rolled his eyes. "Ain't they, 10?"
"Uh…" 10 stopped on his way to the electrician's bed with a fresh roll of bandages and a green container in hand.
"Yeah...Sure,"
"Hey, 10," A familiar bouncy accent followed the clicking of the door opening. 221 and 10 turned to find 149 entering, with 345, 150, 300, 624, 626, and 621 following her closely.
"Hello, everyone," The medic greeted them. "221's foot is healing, but he's still got a little while to go. I was thinking about applying a little more anti-plasma in a second, but you can visit for a while if you want,"
"Aw, that's nice 'a ya, 10," 149 said. "Both the anti-plasma bit and the visitin' bit,"
"Nice to see you again, 10." 626 patted the medic's shoulder as he entered with the others. 10 jolted at the touch, and then blushed at his own reaction.
"So, newbie," 221 began, folding his arms behind his head. "Why don't you let the doc and I hear how your first job went,"
"Well, we actually got sent off to kill Captain Gantu," 626 replied, bringing the delighted grin of a child at Christmas to 221's face.
"For your first go?! Did you do it?! Oh, please tell me that invisible git is dead!"
"He escaped," 621 answered curtly. "We tried, but it couldn't be done,"
"We tried blowing up the ship with him on it," 345 continued. "Like what happened...Last time. But he got away at the last second." He snapped his fingers in frustration.
"Bastard!" The electrician exclaimed at the ceiling. "Not you. Gantu,"
"But we did learn somethin'," 149 said, patting a hand on his shoulder. "There's some third party that Jumba's been hidin' from us!"
"What?!" 221 leaned forward in curiosity, as did his doctor.
"Gantu mentioned someone named Jacques," 624 explained. "Sounds like he's been helping Jumba make us,"
"Maybe even since the beginning," 626 added.
"You're sure Gantu wasn't just pulling your legs?" 221 questioned.
"Certain," 300 answered, and his tone and his eyes convinced the electrician.
"B-B-But why would Jumba keep this Jacques guy a secret?" 10 inquired, fading from crimson to white.
"Isn't that the question, 10?" 621 replied. "I wanted to ask you, being one of the earliest Experiments, if you remembered anything from you earliest days that may be connected to this?"
"Hm...N-Not specifically...Well, I kind of remember someone...In a red coat. Taller than us but shorter than Gantu..."
All eyes were on the medic like hawks.
"Anything else?" 621 pressed.
"H-He showed up once or twice, just looked at me and the other nine of us, like he was studying us, and then left. The first time he seemed alright, but the second time he looked…"
"What?"
"...He looked...He looked like you did after 501 and 502…"
Nobody said anything.
10 looked at the floor, and after a moment, 621 mimicked him.
"Well," He whispered. "That's something…"
"W-W-We need to keep going on this!" 221 suggested, leaning as far as his useless foot's position would allow. "If Gantu knows, there might be other wankers in the Federation who know a thing or two, as well. Hell, Gantu's still out there, and he must know more about this Jacques git!"
"We could investigate this on the side while we're in the field," 149 added. "Interrogate soldiers, search databases!"
"Hey, I just thought," 150 began, swallowing anxiously before continuing. "Maybe Jacques has something to do with 89,"
"Maybe so, 150," 300 replied. "In fact, I have no doubt,"
"89?" 626 asked.
"Yeah, a while after 88 turned up, the next one came down and said he was 90," 624 explained.
"Yeah, for a scientist, Jumba's not always so smart," 345 added. "I would've just called him 89 and pretended nothing ever happened to the real 89,"
"So," 621 clapped both pairs of hands together. "We'll all agree that on all our future missions, even those that separate us, we'll do a little research into Jacques and his connection to us. It will be our own rebellion-within-a-rebellion,"
"A double rebellion," 626 said.
"An inter-rebellion," 624 added.
"Rebellion-ception!" 345 contributed with a chuckle.
"Excellent," 621 smirked. "For now, though...10, we'll leave you to tend to 221's wound. 626, why don't you get familiar with the base? Perhaps head down to the training room and get some less...stressful exercise,"
"I'll come with you," 624 offered. "I can show you a couple moves,"
"Uh, sure, why not?" The amateur replied, smiling as he was led out of the medical ward.
"Hey, um, could you also sing your song for me again, please?" The question dropped from his mouth as absent-mindedly as drool. He immediately wished that, like drool, he could just suck it back up into his mouth before 624 noticed that it had ever been there at all.
The pink Experiment looked at him once they had stepped out of the door, into the crowded, boisterous base. She smiled just as she had while pulling him into the pod after the explosion.
"No," She said curtly, maintaining the smile.
626 looked at the floor. He knew 624 was still smiling at him. It was not condescending; the blue Experiment felt more undeserving of it than hurt.
"I'll show you how to do a drop kick, though," She added.
626 looked back up, and he was able to smile, too.
"Sure...I'd like that,"
She patted him on the back and began leading him through the colorful, furry crowd.
"I know you will,"
VII
Jumba put his elbows on the console and buried his face in his meaty hands.
He was disappointed at 300's report, but had done nothing to show the shapeshifter his frustration.
He knew he would have to report Gantu's unfortunate survival to his partner eventually, but the will to get up and just get it over with refused to come to him.
He looked up and did what he often did when he felt like this, which these days was almost all the time; he gazed up at the wall of small screens in front of him, each one displaying the lives of his oblivious creations.
Live recordings of the Experiments at armory shelves, medical beds, training dummies, and anywhere else Jumba had installed a diminutive camera, no larger than any Experiment's claw. Their words flowed into Jumba's ears like a song in his own language.
He allowed himself to be distracted by the sounds of his work, until he was dragged down from the clouds by a single lyric.
"Jacques-"
He jerked upright. His four eyes scanned the wall of screens until they landed on one; the perspective was from a camera directly above the bed currently holding the 221st of his many creations.
Jumba listened intently to the words pouring out of the screen, doing his best to block the more pleasing sounds of loyalty out of his attention.
He scrambled for one of the many pens and pieces of paper that lay scattered across the tables bordering the room. Every Experiment visible or heard on the screen found their way onto the list, alongside long-finished blueprints for Experiment 403.
As Jumba scribbled, he listened with dread to the treacherous words these Experiments spoke.
"There's some third party that Jumba's been hidin' from us..."
"I remember someone with a red coat..."
"There might be other wankers in the Federation who know a thing or two..."
"Maybe Jacques has something to do with 89,"
"Rebellion-ception!"
Jumba properly scanned the list after they had disbanded.
621
300
221
149
150
010
345
624
626
He stared blankly at it, as if one of them were in the room, holding a blaster at his head that very instant.
Finally, the will to go to his partner found him, and he turned and rushed out of his study, down the tall, dark corridor, and into an enormous circle of a room.
"Jacques!" He called down the shallow pit in the room's center.
A long pair of filthy white ears poked out from beneath a long, metal board, alongside several noisy sparks.
"Jacques!" Louder this time, and now he was heard.
The creature who emerged from beneath the board was coated in white fur; he might have been mistaken for one of his own Experiments save for a few differences. A smaller head and nose, whiskers, and hellish red eyes. He was completely clothed in black, and a crimson coat lay on the steps leading down to where he worked.
"Was Captain Gantu's assassination successful?" He asked immediately. He spoke with an accent that might've sounded pleasing at one point, but was now like a snake that coiled around Jumba's head.
"N-Not as such, I'm sorry. They did come close, but he ultimately escaped; some botched up attempt at a poetic death, from the sound of it,"
"Number 621?"
Jumba nodded.
"Hmph. His emotions are so useful, and then he lets them get the better of him when it's most important. Typical..." Through clenched teeth, before looking back to his work.
"Gantu mentioned you to the team I sent out!" Jumba blurted. This pulled Jacques' attention back to him.
"How much do they know?!" He got up and snatched up his coat throwing it on as he dashed up the stairs, which ran parallel to the circular wall on his engineering pit.
"J-Just that you exist. And that you and I build them together,"
"Which ones know?" Jacques stopped in front of Jumba. "Have they told any others?"
"I've written down the ones who know..." Jumba showed him the list, and it was instantly snatched from him. "I don't think they plan on spreading the word, for fear that a more loyal Experiment betrays them to us. They'll be searching for more information on their future missions,"
"What few remain..." Jacques quickly scanned the list. "621 is not surprising, nor is 624...345 and 10, though..." He folded the list up. "Perhaps your observing equipment is not the sentimental waste I thought it was, my friend." He then darted straight for Jumba's study.
"What few...Jacques, what are you going to do?!" Jumba followed, his heart pounding at the thought of what his partner might be scheming for their children.
"I'll confess; I've considered this concept before..." Jacques trailed off, lost in his own mind, as full and bustling as his Experiments' base.
"I simply never found a practical application for it…" He pulled paper and pencil randomly from the room just as Jumba had done, and then leaned against the nearest table.
Jacques thought for just a moment, and then began writing just as he had done six hundred and twenty six times before.
Experiment 627.