The next half-hour was a troubling blur. A confusing mix of bitter cold, straining Zoid servos, and a wholly unpleasant amount of sweat under thick clothes.
Brad and Naomi managed to get the Shadow Fox into the small garage-hangar Layon indicated. Naomi's Gun Sniper all but refused to move afterwards. The exhausted machine huddled against the base's outside wall, taking shelter from the wind.
Layon wasn't at all concerned about the Gun Sniper, nor did he care about the ragged state in which the two pilots had shown up. He was very concerned about the Shadow Fox, however.
The Fox had no reflexes to speak of. Some of its joints appeared to have frozen the way it'd obviously been dragged in the cold. The only positive sign was the lack of ossification; the Zoid wasn't already dead, at least.
As a high-functioning alcoholic, Layon was able to set up diagnostic machinery despite his state. He stared at the information beginning to crawl down the small screen, blinking hard at what he saw.
"Oh. Oh, no."
Three small, softly-spoken words from the largest man in the room made things go more silent than they already were.
Layon turned from the diagnostic computer and grabbed a box of tools. He jogged to and dismantled the Fox's undercarriage panels with the speed of familiarity. Brad assisted, and both men quickly detached the belts of armor and plating beneath to reveal the Zoid's base structure.
This wasn't a combat or maintenance hangar and didn't have any of the equipment to work on larger Zoids, making everything manual by necessity. Layon undid the many bolts on the Core's access hatch, and worked with Brad to heft the heavy panel aside.
Dull silver blood poured out as the hatch came away, the air acrid with a unique, troubling smell that pilots dreaded: that of a damaged Zoid Core.
"Fuck," Brad said, despondent.
Layon grabbed a flashlight, yanked back his sleeves, and leaned in. What should've been an air-space was largely filled with a metallic froth: the Zoid was suffering the equivalent of pulmonary edema. Layon swept an arm blindly through the filmy mess, feeling for an inner-hatch release. After several frustrating moments, he had it.
It was difficult to tell what was going on through the slick coating of silver. All he could really determine was that the Core within was weeping fluid from its damaged surface - and that several branches had been severed and were bleeding profusely. The Core hadn't collapsed, but it was clearly compromised.
Layon jerked out of the hatch. "What the hell happened!? What did you do to my Shadow Fox?!"
"I didn't do anything! The Fury's fucking Organoid attacked it."
"An Organoid did this?!"
"Yes!"
Layon ran both hands through his hair. He wasn't sure if more, or less, alcohol would've helped him, now.
"I don't know if I can save it. That's a lot of damage."
"Well, try!"
Layon scowled. "I don't have a lot of actual big Zoid equipment here, Brad. Why the hell do you think I was working with Backdraft?"
Brad scowled back, looking between Layon and the Fox. "There has to be something we can do!"
"Yeah, you give it back to me and stop playing chicken with the damn thing, or whatever goddamn bullshit you're always getting yourself into." Layon glared daggers, thought for a moment, then held up a finger. "Though. One second."
Layon returned quickly with what looked like a small earpiece. He tugged his silver-soaked overshirt off, put on the earpiece, and beckoned Brad over. "You do your own maintenance, right? You know Zoid anatomy?"
Brad just nodded.
"Good. Because I don't have enough hands for this. And It's a good thing you're a skinny shit or we'd be out of luck." Layon tapped on the earpiece and tilted his head to it.
"What is that?" Brad asked.
"Shut up." Layon swept a dismissive hand, then listened. "Hey, Fox. Talk to me. I need to know what's up with you."
[ _hurt.]
"Yeah. Gathered that. Can you extrude your mid assembly about halfway so we can actually reach it?"
[ _no. hurt.]
"Fox, come on." Brad said, tense. "We're gonna help."
The Shadow Fox hesitated, but complied after a few seconds.
Layon rolled his eyes.
Two men who rather disliked one another were within six uncomfortable inches of each other for hours. Layon reeked of alcohol, Brad just reeked.
Zoid Cores and Core Chambers were hot and humid affairs. Layon's t-shirt was completely soaked with sweat, Zoid blood, and saline, while Brad, awkwardly straddling a branch on the other side of the Core's armored shell, had elected to remove his shirt entirely. If only so he had something to wipe his face and keep his hair back with.
At this point Brad was using a small irrigator to keep the areas Layon was focused on clear, the larger man using tiny tools to carefully repair what he could. It was incredibly tedious and had taken a while, but he eventually completed the work.
Layon glanced towards his earpiece. "How you holding up?"
The Zoid rumbled, vibrating them both.
"He's tired," Brad muttered absently, sore from the awkward position he was in. "And dry on fuel."
"Because it's all over the goddamn floor." Layon muttered. "I have stock for my Zoids. It can have some of that. After we make sure this stays stable."
Brad nodded. He wormed out of the hatch and dropped stiffly from the assembly to the concrete, cracking his neck as he stood. He took a moment to stare at the Fox.
Much less nimbly, Layon dropped back to the floor and joined Brad in his regard.
The larger man vaguely motioned. "As long as they can breathe, Zoid Cores can heal from physical insults pretty well. What often kills 'em in fights isn't the damage itself, it's if they bleed a bunch in the chamber and suffocate. Even dropping into a CSF won't save them then."
Brad shook his head and looked away.
"I had no idea it was hurt that badly. I never would've…" He trailed off.
Layon sniffed with contempt, but sighed. "It puts on a tough front for you. But it's a big baby." He glanced up at the Fox again and frowned. "A big, stupid damn baby."
The night was cool and silent.
All Vega wanted was to think about the delight of One's contentment. All he could think about was how difficult it might be to achieve again.
Now not only did he have Bit and Zero's burning eyes on him, there was the additional vexing likelihood that the Mackaray Zoids would start escaping, through whatever way the Shadow Fox had come in. At the very least, he wanted to prevent some of them from leaving. He wanted something, anything for him and One to go back to later.
One lay asleep in the basin. Things were fine for now.
Vega knew that things would not be fine within a day or two.
Everyone alive had experienced some form of anxiety. But this vicious extreme of it was both new to Vega, and unpleasantly visceral.
Bit was going to help him, right? Vega had no idea how to deal with the impending situation otherwise, and didn't want to end up in any desperately-ravenous throes again. Not only did it really, really hurt, but he had no idea what lengths One would go to in search of satiation.
It wasn't that the thought scared him. Or bothered him. It moreso hung as a daunting inconvenience, a looming potential for intense disapproval. Though the child would always say he had no need for others' approval or validation, it simply wasn't true.
Deep down, he was desperately insecure, desperately angry that he was expected to pick through the mess his life had become, with little help. Though he'd had tutors of all types - understood (but needed more practice at) many styles of combat, possessed more book knowledge than many on Zi would ever have cross their minds…
...he had little idea how to interact with normal people, quite awkwardly handled his emotions, and had no real way to cope with being denied immediate gratification. In Backdraft, as far as material desires went, he'd had everything he wanted.
That wasn't the case anymore. Instead his shoulder just ached and throbbed, an obnoxious reminder that consequences existed and did, in fact, apply to him.
Vega's thoughts drifted to Sara. He didn't relish the idea of hiding his injury from her until he felt better. He honestly wasn't sure he could.
Sara was, and always had been, painfully distant. More recently, it'd given Vega pause to realize that most of his interactions in Backdraft were given structure by fear alone. If not of his mother or him, then of his Zoid.
Vega sighed, shifted uncomfortably, and flicked a glance across the dim and damaged Blitz hangar.
There were Zoids here, at least. Only a few though. Vega had made the effort to avoid considering them. Others would be upset if he loosed One on these Zoids. He just didn't want to deal with that.
The thought continued idly. There were other options here, too.
There were other people.
Vega's throat worked, and he blinked several times. Not a thought he wanted to entertain, right now.
His stomach growled, quite inconveniently. Vega bunched up, wrapping his good arm around his knees, not sure what to do about anything.
His arm and shoulder were killing him, and little seemed to help. His brain made many polite requests for food, but everything he'd gone to eat just seemed so... unappetizing. To the point of nausea and retching. He didn't want to deal with that either.
Vega finally settled on just staring at One sleeping. Half-lidded eyes gazed, silent.
He must have zoned out, because the next thing Vega knew, Bit was sitting right beside him.
The child startled badly. One stirred just enough to make sure he was fine.
"It's cool, it's cool." Bit said, his attempt at being disarming. "Just wanted to see how you're doing."
Vega said nothing as he settled again. He only shook his head.
"Zero says you're worried."
The head-shake stopped, and became a small nod. Vega glanced.
"I really just want to go make sure those Zoids in the Mackaray Base can't-"
"No." Bit said, firmly. Then in seeming reflex at the drop of Vega's expression, he added: "Sorry. But you're not getting any more of them."
Vega looked away again, irate. That the prior edict stood wasn't a surprise. "Then I don't know what to do."
Bit took Vega by his uninjured shoulder and gave him a small, affectionate shake. "We'll work something out. Don't worry."
"Easy for you to say."
"Well... things would be easier if you'd just talk to us. No one's expecting you to figure all this out on your own, okay?"
The child's brown eyes dulled with a defensive skepticism.
Bit offered his free hand's knuckles for a fistbump, and didn't let up until Vega hesitantly returned the gesture.
"Look." The blonde said. "For better or worse, we're some weird kinda family now. I don't know how things were in Backdraft, but Zero and me are here to help. I'm sure we can learn stuff from you too."
The Liger Zero's pilot did probably represent the single best chance Vega had for common ground with anyone, and Vega knew it. Yet they were still so different. Bit still had his Zoid, after all.
Vega seethed quietly to himself.
Bit held his hands out, palms up, giving a mild beckon for Vega's own hands. "Zero wants to show you something. You don't need to do anything, just listen, okay?"
Vega didn't respond, just glaring forward.
"Come on. I know you don't wanna kill Zoids. One might want to. But you don't."
While it was true Vega liked most Zoids better than he liked people, that said more about his attitude towards people. Zoids still fell squarely into the 'expendable' category. That's what he'd always been taught, told, and shown at least. Nobody actually cared about their Zoids.
Except him. And Bit. And…
Vega shut his eyes tightly, angrily. "One found what it takes to be happy. Why do you have to take that away from us?!"
Bit blinked. He really didn't know how to respond.
But Zero did. Like a politely raging flood, the Organoid's presence swept Bit's aside. The man's green eyes became intense with an inhuman, borderline-hostile stare.
"That is not happiness. That is satiation. Of course the mind is pleased when the body is. But the body can and will lie, for the mindless sake of instinct, demanding more, forever."
Bit's hands, which had been nothing but gentle and cautious, became tense. Zero took Vega's good arm and held it firmly.
"I know you want help, and I know you wish to please One. It is your responsibility as his partner to do what is right for both of you. But you are young, and too easily swayed by his power."
Vega looked down at the hand gripping his arm, pointedly lifting his eyes back to Bit's.
Well… Zero's.
"Bit's nicer than you are." He said quietly.
"I am not here to be 'nice.'" Bit-Zero sighed. "It is up to you to lead One's behavior back to that which is right. Or you both will destroy any and everything you hold dear, in pursuit of the unattainable."
Vega's dark eyes rolled back and fell closed, only to open again with blown pupils, even darker than before.
"Is this a matter of do as you say, not as you do?" Vega's arm and wrist snapped out of Bit-Zero's grasp, pulling away to thwart the attempted grab. Instead, the child countered by seizing the blonde's wrist. He held it tightly.
"You speak of satiation as if it were the lone transient state." Vega smiled with too many teeth; One clearly didn't know how smiles worked. "They all are, you fool. Nothing lasts."
"A stuffed gut is only happiness to mindless beasts."
"I beg that you suffer as I have, then make that same assertion."
"You are not stupid. Symbiose. Feed properly."
Vega's grip became excruciating. Bit blinked to an uncomfortable awareness, alarmed by the child's strength. When he glanced at Vega's face, he saw a clear delineation between child and Organoid. Dark eyes flicked, searching - almost panicked - but already-thin lips were further thinned by anger.
One clearly did not want to speak, but Vega forced out a: "He can't!"
"Why not?"
"He's so hungry. He can't- I don't kn-" Vega let go of Bit to instead clutch both sides of his own head. "Come on, just- he can't, he won't, I don't know! I don't know what 'symbiosis' is like, I can't tell him anything! But it doesn't matter, it-"
"It does matter!" Bit stepped out of range after Vega released his wrist. "We have a responsibility. Not just to them, but to everyone."
"I'm sure Zoids get thrown out every day. We c-"
"You're missing the point, Vega!"
"What is the point, Bit?" Vega stomped, once. "What do you expect me to do? Just vanish? Problem over?"
"You're not a problem-"
"You gonna lie to me now too?" Vega's voice rose, near a shriek. "I didn't ask for this crap!"
"And you think I did?!" Bit's brows arrowed together as he hit the limits of his patience. "I just wanted to pilot a goddamn Zoid. To do something. To be someone!"
"You are now! Good job!" Vega managed a fierce sarcasm for his age. "You got what you wanted! Meanwhile, I lost my home, my Zoid, and the only place I actually belong." Dark eyes grew red-rimmed. "Yes, I did get One. And I love him. But he's in so much pain when he's hungry. He-"
Vega tried to continue, but his voice choked out with upset.
He brought one arm up to wipe at his face, then the other in quick succession. The latter hurt, and he was reminded anew about his shoulder.
It was too much. Vega just dropped his head and started to cry.
One merely stared from the basin. Bit noticed that most of the hangar's Zoids were also paying attention, heads and necks arched subtly in Vega's direction.
Bit stepped close again. He knelt and opened his arms. He didn't say anything: he didn't need to.
Vega walked to Bit and pressed his face into the blonde's shoulder. Bit wrapped his arms around the child's bony back, and just let him sob.
One made a low sound between a growl and a whine, and Bit's attention warily snapped to the black Organoid. He could hear the edges of Zero and One hissing to each other in Zoidian - clearly agitated.
Vega finally either calmed down, or became tired. His sobbing stopped, and with a final sniff he wiped his face on Bit's shirt.
Bit sighed.
At length, Vega spoke. His voice was subdued. "I just want things to be normal again, Bit."
"I don't think we get 'normal' anymore."