By Sh33p, CultofSh33p@aol.com
The great sequel of New Age. It'll knock your socks off. Tim Seltzer, seltzer@seltzerbooks.com
Sh33p Disclaimer: I don`t own Zoids. Consider this disclaimer valid for the whole damn story :P
Foreword: Pick action and introspect. Instrumentals would work,
too.
In historical texts, there is a quote often attributed solely to the bloodthirsty madman known as Hiltz, a quote about Zoids being their most beautiful whenever they`re engaged in battle. While it`s true that Hiltz was the originator of the modern version of it, the quote was actually dated back to the times when Ancient Zoidians were only just beginning to understand the lethality of the natural beasts with which they formed a triad with.
Zoids are at their pinnacle in battle, of that, there is no doubt. Organoids, though, carried out their life tunes at peak performance when fighting for their lives. Every symphony, every choir`s gospel that their Voices could sing - individually and as a group - were at their best when partaking in a battle. Tunes that no human mind could comprehend and no Zoidian ear - real or imagined - could hear, these were the greatest symphonies ever woven together, heard and judged only by the Zoids they were Bound to, permanently or temporarily.
But the beauty, the true beauty of this three-fold deck of cards, was the pilot. Zoidian or human, a pilot was at his or her most beautiful when engulfed in the moments of battle, that pure, raw feeling that welled up from the bottom of one`s stomach and expanded until it consumed their very soul in the heat of the moment. It was a beauty like none other, it transcended gender and race, even the thin lines that seperated the Zoidians and the humans from one another. It didn`t have to be pleasing on the eye, it was the beauty that few could ever truly grasp.
Right now, Bit Cloud was beautiful. In every way, from the sweat pouring in buckets down his face to the awkward way his hair had been stained a bit darker by pounds of ash that were carried aloft by whipping winds and snow, to the immersive look burned into his grass-green eyes, there were few words to describe him. His voice unknowingly tied to Zeke`s song perfectly, setting the Liger Zero to roar it`s applause as it dove forward, itself having become truly immersed in the battle it waged.
The Proto Breaker was less for the tune and more for the fighting, half of it`s 'face' having been burnt and cut deeply from the outright sadistic reversal of fates that the Liger had caused earlier in the battle, their twisted dance continuing as it dodged that same Zoid`s golden claws and blazed into an almost moonwalking reversal with it`s leg thrusters, leaving a perilous moment where the Liger Zero hung in the air, as if suspended.
Lava soaked the ground almost everywhere in their fiery battlefield, it was as if the two had taken an invitation directly from Hell to come and entertain the devil himself with a dance of death. Flames rippled from burning slag that once called itself rock, the Liger landed almost too perfectly to be real and rebounded from the ground, trailing along at an impossible angle along the canyon wall, flames bursting from beneath it`s feet while the warped Geno Saurer howled it`s displeasure.
Fingerlessly gloved hands clutched the arm raker controls a bit tighter, pulling back one all the way and the other only partially as the Liger`s momentum shifted completely, until it was pointed straight up. The thrusters roared to life as if under their own guidance, instantly damning gravity`s whims and giving the Zoid the added power to make the climb look almost effortless.
Out of Hell and into Purgatory, the Liger Zero emerged, but not unscathed. Metallic 'bruises' lined it`s once solid white armor, scorch marks littered the soles of it`s feet and it`s teeth had been stained an almost yellow shade by the weather, and yet it still fought. It`s pilot was in equal shape, empathically connected - through the body, heart and soul on so many levels that deluded Zoidian blood couldn`t even hope to account for all of it - to the Zoid in such a way that he felt it`s pain, lightly bruising in the same relative areas as the Liger, his palms and the soles of his feet feeling as if he had dipped them in the same lava that the Zoid had repeatedly treaded for spurts of time, never too long though.
His teeth hadn`t been stained, and that was about it. The look on his face was unreadable, bordering somewhere on that nexus of emotions that connected stress with relief, impossible joy with unspeakable rage and saddened defeat with unyielding determination, raggedly breathing as his heart beat right up into his throat and lodged itself there, making it hard just to swallow back the acrid taste left in his mouth by the very air that he had spent the past days breathing. That part of him that was human felt supressed, that part of him that was Zoidian felt frightened and that part of him that was just him was as thrilled as riding a roller coaster.
Bit Cloud wasn`t a murderous psychopath like Kale. He wasn`t a twisted anti-villain like Bill. He was Bit Cloud. No one else. He was only just now starting to understand that, for here he was at his rawest. Not in terms of stress and strain, but in purity. There were no barriers here, fighting for his life against someone he didn`t even know, and he found himself free. Free from the mask of being a careless junk dealer, free from being a pawn in Kale`s headgames, free from being the dimwitted, idiot savant hero, free from his responsibilities and free from being the genius failure in high school, even free from being his ancestral grandmother`s cherished, protected favorite.
For the first time in his life, Bit Cloud was free to be himself.
Only time would tell if that was good or bad.
"I`m not through with you yet!" Came a sharp, angry proclaimation as the Proto Breaker literally blew out of the canyon in front of the Zero like a bat out of Hell, the result of an about face somewhere in the brief lull of combat that had formerly taken hold, now shattered as the black-and-purple slaughterbeast jolted through the air before it`s engines kicked out, it`s pilot drawing a deep breath while descending with shoulder and nose guns blazing.
"And I ain`t done with you, either!" Came the retort, even sharper but
decidedly less emotional. A flare of gold, the Liger Zero`s shield burned
to life and twin roars clashed in the frost ridden wasteland of Nyx.
The door slipped open, an imposing looking desk chair swiveled about and the newly entered commander rigidly straightened up in a salute, breaking from it only after a number of seconds. Vilhelm was unimpressed, almost bored looking, in fact, his green eyes reflecting a subtle menace in the intentionally shadowed lighting that gave the room it`s trademark appearance. Exquisite works of art, mainly statues of Organoids or famous historical villains, were scattered about the office, and the window-wall was shut for the duration, covered by an armor panel that could`ve withstood low level charged particle beams with little trouble.
"The Hellwalker has departed, sir. It`s bylining straight for Farentown, as you ordered."
"Then I take it the implant process worked?" Rommel asked with only minimal concern, the kind that bordered on not caring at all. The underling gave a firm nod, hiding the smile that wanted to be let out. Obviously, he was the time who got a morbid thrill out of scientific advancements, whether he took part in them or not.
"Yes sir. Henry - or Surak, or whatever he calls himself - was implanted into the control system shortly after the remaining weapons were installed across it`s body. The Passifier Unit is keeping him in check, while the physical maintenence systems are keeping him alive and functioning to top capacity. For all intents and purposes, your brother is the Hellwalker," he explained brightly.
"Good. What about the Black Ultra?" Vilhelm asked, unimpressed by his 'brother`s' twisted change into something vaguely similar to an organic AI Processor.
"It launched just under a half an hour ago. The crew is handling transition very well, and to her credit, Turpscavey hasn`t had a single issue with keeping command."
Again, Vilhelm answered with only a slow nod, turning around in his chair as a flash of green ripped through the room, appearing beside a statue of the long dead Ambient with an eerie resemblance. If not for being green and having two less crests to his head, Spectacle would`ve been a shoe-in for his ancient contemporary.
"Feel free to leave now," Rommel stated. "I have business to attend to."
That, you do. Serious business, indeed, the Organoid replied with a hint of a rush to his Voice, obviously glad that the underling couldn`t hear him. Human minds were such fun things to pick at...
"Such as?" Rommel asked, waiting a few more moments before the commander stepped out and the door slid shut behind him. At that, Spectacle continued, the hint of a rush turning into what almost sounded like a frantic hurry.
Kale and Shadow are on their way here...
Most men - heck, most human beings with any shard of self preservation and sanity would`ve automatically emptied out their lunch into their underwear at that statement. Vilhelm only quirked a brow up. "What for?" He asked again, turning around to face the Organoid with a look that sat firmly between being unintimidated and planning. It was obvious that while Kale was dangerous, Rommel viewed him as a force of nature - an enormous threat that was easily avoided if you played your cards right.
I`m unsure. I was only barely able to gleam why from his mind before Shadow detected my presence and shut me out. All I could gather was this: [A picture of a man`s face with a dart in it. Long, rough and light brown hair, dimly blue eyes and a light tan to his skin.]
"So he`s after our guinea pig. How convenient."
Are you insane?! Spectacle bellowed, his optics seeming to widen a small bit to convey his shock at that statement in a physical sense.
"No, my dear Organoid. I`m not. We`re going to simply use this to our advantage in the same way any skillful strategist would exploit a tornado wreaking havoc across his enemy. Obscura will annihilate Hunter, possibly taking out Hameros as well - and if we allow them to escape beforehand, he`ll simply track them wherever they go and possibly kill them as they find their friends. We`ll be getting multiple birds with one stone, if you get what I`m saying."
And how the HELL do you propose we make this look plausible enough to not tip them all off?! Shadow isn`t stupid, I know that much of him, and neither is Kale. And what about the plans for the girl?
"Leave the majority of that to our dear friend, Bill. Everything else will fall into place on it`s own, but I fear I`ll be having to transfer my command and crew over to the Fatalistic Renegade though... The important ones, anyway."
... You`re even willing to play with the lives of your own underlings like nothing so long as it serves you...
"Yes, and?"
No wonder I like you, Spectacle stated with the grim equivelent
of an Organoid smile.
*BANG!*
An explosion ripped through the already hellish wasteland that was known as Nyx, and the battle raged on. The Proto Breaker trembled briefly as the Liger Zero`s shield crashed headlong into it`s chest, bringing it to a dead stop from a full, straight line burn, but only for the moment as the shield switched off, leaving them both perpetually frozen in what looked like morbid poetry and motion.
Gunshots rang out, the Proto Breaker rocked back on both feet in a stagger, recovering swiftly unleashing a pair of dual lasers from it`s shoulder cannons. The Liger roared indignantly as quad trenches were flash-burnt across it`s shoulder and hip panels, leaving it unscathed in any real way as the silver beams died out. A flash of gold from the claws and the Zero launched forward, swiping out with one foreclaw and drawing the other back.
As expected, Marshall launched one clawed hand up and caught the Liger`s strike, the cable behind the claw-hand holding firm for a moment or two under the forces of momentum, but quickly yielding before it could do anything other than block the first attack, leaving Bit with added time to execute his second strike, stabbing the other clawed paw right into the should of the same arm that had deflected the first attack. Inches of high resistance, multi-alloyed armor gave way to the undeniable force of the same attack that had defeated the Berserk Fury, and on any lesser Zoid, the shoulder would`ve simply broken right in half and left the arm to fly to the ground while the claws continued straight through to the cockpit or further.
The Proto Breaker was not any lesser Zoid.
"You think that cheap-ass move`s gonna beat me?! WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD, DICKWIT, THIS AIN`T THE ZB-FUCKING-C!" Marshall shouted out annoyedly, promptly retracting the claw in and clamping the mutant Geno Saurer`s jaws down around the Liger Zero`s midsection - or as much of it as was possible.
"You think I don`t know that already, you idiot?! I came here to kill you for crying out loud!" Bit retorted sharply, flailing the Liger around until simply turning the head towards the Proto and activating the shield, causing the two to wrench apart and leaving deep gash marks across the Liger Zero`s stomach and back, just after of one of the thruster units.
One Zoid landed, the other regained it`s balance and the Liger shield rammed the Breaker again, shoving it back once more only for the more experienced - or more criminally insane - Davis to kick on his thrusters and back flip straight over the smaller Liger Zero, sunsetting through the air before landing in a skidding twist, it`s nose gun automatically opening up and laying waste to the muggy, snow and ash covered ground, missing the tarnished-white Zoid by inches as Bit whipped around and dodged out of the way, deactivating the shield ahead of time.
A pause. Neither attacked, but one spoke.
"Why did you come here to kill me, again?" Marshall asked, actually a genuine bit curious over just why a famous Class S Zoid Warrior had journeyed all the way to Nyx, of all places, to come and kill him in the middle of a test run. For a long moment, there wasn`t an answer.
"I don`t know. A woman and an Organoid told me to, you`ll just have to take my word for it."
"... WHAT THE FUCK KINDA MOTIVATION IS THAT?! PUSSY AIN`T WORTH MURDERIN` FOR! ... Well, wait... Was it the good kind?"
A pause. A near audible twitch. Then another. Marshall raised a brow, then -
"HELL NO, YOU FUCKING MORON! SHE`S MORE MANLY THAN I AM, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THE WOMAN BEATS ME OVER THE HEAD WITH A HUNDRED POUND METAL CLUB THAT CAN ELECTRICUTE PEOPLE, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
- all hell broke loose.
"... Kinky."
"... Ew..."
"She got a sister?"
"... You`re disgusting."
"Well DUHRRRR," Marshall ground out in reply. Another near-audible twitch
followed before the Liger roared out something vaguely equivelent to 'get
back to fighting, you twits.' Davis didn`t understand and Bit was only
barely paying attention, but they both followed orders despite themselves,
lashing out at each other once again with claws and guns blazing on the
attack.
Something stirred. Far removed from civilization, for the first time in... Decades, something stirred.
[A young man in his mid-to-late twenties, the bags under his eyes and the stress on his face obvious. For the first time in... How long? He didn`t know, but it felt like it was the first time he would be climbing into the cockpit, though it also felt like any other time he had done so - even if he couldn`t remember it. A chirp reminded him of something distant, so many memories hidden...]
The time was fast approaching. Gears that had once spent hours turning on the run from Guardians churned to life as an old sentience re-awakened. Probability embodied, it was time.
[He barely even knew his own name anymore, barely even understood why he had built this... Thing to replace another thing he could no longer even remember with more than blurred, passing images. Perhaps it had been close to him? And pain. He remembered pain everytime she walked around him. Unsteadily, he lowered into the custom-made cockpit chair. It was roomy, maybe more so than his old Zoid? What had it been, before? Something about a... A bull? He didn`t remember though.]
A low growl, pitched with an eternally threatening tone echoed as sands whipped up around the creature`s body, a leg that had been encrusted with dirt and grime finally moving, however squeakily it did so. Sands and dirt, dust and so much else were scrubbed off by movements, then repelled by a sub-system only a genius would think to include.
Or the creation of a genius.
[Cautiously, he eased his hands onto the controls, getting a feel for them. They weren`t the usual for such a Zoid, he had been told. Not that it mattered very much...
"Alright, Thomas. How`re things on your end?"
A friendly, cheerful - if not somewhat senile - voice asked, jarring him a bit. Uneasily though, he nodded and flipped a switch, showing the image of a balding old hippy of a man with long, white hair down to his mid-back. "Thomas?" The man asked. The name still didn`t feel right, was it really his?]
Old, red optics flared to life for the first time since it had become frozen in place, an ancient mind reflecting... Concern? Malice, perhaps? Maybe that part that hadn`t ever quite gone away?
["Thomas? Is everything alright?" He repeated for the second or third time.
"Fine. I`m fine, don`t worry... Just a little... Out of it, right now."
"We could always do this when you`re feeling better," the man suggested a bit hesitantly. Obviously, he wanted to get this done, for whatever reason. "It`s not like the Mark II`ll be going anywhere, yanno..."
"No," he replied with more authority than intended. "I have to do this now..."
Why though? He thought he heard the doctor mumble something in surrender but he didn`t pay enough attention. With a bit of his own hesitation, he reached up and pulled down the helmet - it looked familiar. Was it the same one? And what had caused him to think that? A sigh and he put his hands back to the controls, ignoring the sudden buzz in his ears and focusing on bringing the hulk of a Zoid to life.
Something was wrong though.]
No. Not malice. Misunderstanding then? Who knew...
["The... The controls aren`t responding..."
Something ticked at the back of his mind. The doctor`s voice suddenly became all-too distant as images began to trickle across the helmet`s visor. At first they were just... Blurred, but clarity... Slowly, clarity began to form there, an image of...
Her.
Not the other one, the one that brought him a heartfelt pain, but the one he felt instinctive fear from. What had her name been? Damn it, what had her name been?!
"Lll... Liese? No..." That wasn`t right.
And then the image became clearer than before, she was standing over someone and... And...
"Oh... God..."
"Thomas? Thomas! Speak to me!"
The only reply came in the form of a pitched, agonized scream as the huge construct began to tremble and strain against everything around it, mirroring the pain of it`s hostage pilot.]
An old calculations routine played through, an artificial intelligence shifted uneasily and the immense bulk of the still-revolutionary Zoid turned almost perfectly to aim towards a singular location. The out-of-date map registered it as Gyran Base, but a modern map would`ve listed it by it`s simpler, civilian name.
Champton.
["THOMAS?!"]
Old hoverskate thrusters that still seemed as revolutionary as the Zoid
itself actually was, even after over two hundred years, burned to life,
causing a dim, white glow from beneath colossal feet, sending the sands
flying about as the ancient creature was sent skimming through the desert
towards it`s destination.
Claws slashed through the air, gold met silver and whipped apart, silver retreating as the Liger touched down while the Proto Breaker backpedaled out of the way, the snow vaporizing and the ash smogging as ground burnt into an imprint of the unconventionally made weapon, leaving the two frozen for a moment before resuming their struggle.
It was becoming increasingly apparent that while the Zoids were unevenly matched against each other, the pilots were even more so. Marshall Davis had spent roughly a decade of his life in the cockpit, he had reached his piloting limit and relied mostly on tricks and technique to see him threw, while Bit Cloud had all of a half a year - at most - at the controls of the Liger Zero and was easily able to surpass him as far as reflexes and improvising his tactics went.
In short, Davis was relying on what he knew to survive against the raw talent of the other pilot. Even with a massive edge in firepower, even with vastly more experience and even with more skill, he was still being pushed to his limits by the younger of the two.
That pissed him off to no ends.
"Hey, Blondie!" He shouted in the midst of their clash, the Proto Breaker`s jaws snapping shut on thick, disgusting air with a metallic clank, missing the intended target as the Liger Zero swept out of the way and whipped around, firing it`s main gun off without even aiming. One explosion ripped from the side of the mutant Geno`s head, leaving it to briefly stumble sideways from the impact before righting itself.
"What?" The aforementioned blonde pilot asked hotly.
"What the fuck are you, anyway?"
"Huh?"
"No rookie can fight like that," Marshall deduced bluntly, turning the Breaker and facing the Liger with half-blurred eyes. Combat had a way of draining people significantly. Even after years of experience, Marshall was still just a normal human, the nerve wracking effects of having to take on an opponent dedicated to killing you in the environment of Nyx, cramped up in the cockpit of a modified Geno Saurer were taking their toll on him.
Bit wasn`t even getting started yet.
"Guess I`m just different then, huh?" Bit asked, taking the moment to reach up one hand and nonchalantly wipe his entire face off on the back of his glove, immediately coming close to regretting it since it smeared ash over him as a result, but making up for it afterward by wiping the glove off and doing it again.
It left a gap at the convenient time that Marshall chose to pull the trigger, sending off a barrage of dumbfire rockets from the legs of the Proto Breaker, every last one that he could fire. If not for Zeke, Bit would`ve been blown to smithereens, but the Liger`s shield kicked on almost automatically, blocking every single shot from hitting the tarnished Zoid, though the sides were burnt a near ash-black by the numerous explosions that the shield couldn`t cover up.
A pair of loud clacks, followed by six or eight progressively smaller ones and the sound of building energy informed Bit that he had again played right into the other pilot`s hand.
"Shit."
A pat on the back. It was a gesture of comfort and sympathy, often precursing a squeeze on the shoulder. The squeeze happened, and it garnered no response. Not even a blink. At most, his breathing shifted slightly, but even that was negligible. Short cut, dark blonde hair that would probably grow to a light brown with age settled in a mess atop his head, his clothes were slightly stained along the seat of the pants and the bottom-back of the shirt, one elbow had been scraped up a bit and his face still had trails of moisture which had begun to dry. They weren`t being continued though.
He hadn`t spoken. They didn`t know his name, didn`t know his age, didn`t know if he had any other family and didn`t know if he had anyone who could take care of him. He was a kid. They guessed him to be around the age of five but none of them really knew since he was silent on the matter. He was silent on everything.
"I give, man," one of them said with resignation. "He isn`t even blinking, for Christ`s sake..."
"Mark," another started with an authoritative tone, practically snapping the first back out of his annoyance. Most people would`ve dimly chuckled at the antics the man performed, going from resigned, normal guy to little more than a speaking lap dog in under half a second. The hand on his shoulder gave a squeeze. The oldest member of the group, the one in the corner in front of him, gave a thoughtful pause and spoke up.
"We need to give the kid a name, even if he ain`t gonna speak to us anytime soon," the man said with a small nod. At that, the handsome one spoke up, though he looked as if he was busy trying to keep the woman next to him from breaking into a death lunge for the one who was trying to give the kid comfort.
"Could just check the fucking Gustav he got out of," he said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. At that, an explosion shocked through the streets and almost everyone ducked. Except for the five who were paying attention to him, they all just glanced at the one who had made the suggestion with a deadpan look that would`ve been well accompanied with 'Just had to say it, huh?' Obviously, none of them were surprised. The fifth one shrugged a bit absently and started whistling out an old tune to himself, and everything went back to normal.
Or about as normal as it could get.
"Sounds like the guys outside need some help," the one now identified as Mark blithely pointed out, leaving the oldest of the group to take charge again.
"I`ll be back in ten. And Abbie," he paused, getting his gloves on, then his jacket. The woman next to the kid perked up a bit, shifting her attention over to the one who`d called her by name. "Keep an eye on that kid, will ya? He`s had it rough `n all..."
Abbie just gave a nod.
"Later," the man said, leaving with a half-wave through the kitchen. If the boy had been around longer, he would`ve known that the older fellow kept his Zoid in a hangar on the other side of the small alleyway that the kitchen exited into. He didn`t know that though, he didn`t even care.
"Well... What do we call `im?" The handsome one asked bluntly, leaning back on the couch with the ponytailed woman who still looked ready to fly across the room and tackle Abbie through the nearest wall. Obviously, they weren`t on the nicest of terms with each other.
"Well, we could always call `im... Ted?" Mark suggested thoughtlessly, the lack of action combined with the sleep deprivation starting to get to him. Again. Abbie shook her head. "No, that doesn`t sound right," she stated, earning a quirked brow from the other two who were actually speaking. Most of the others in the diner had gone back to the business of trying to sleep or trying to eat.
"Why not?" The other woman finally asked, her voice still a bit taut from something that happened earlier.
"Well," Abbie paused, glancing over at Mark with an outright devilish look on her face. "'Ted Harlock' doesn`t sound too fitting, now does it?"
At that, Mark let out a yelp and crashed to the floor.
It sounded akin to glass shattering, and it looked something like it too, like a gold pane of being blown into thousands of pieces by the awe inspiring force of the charged particle cannon. It hadn`t been a full powered beam, Marshall hadn`t had the time to power up enough for such an attack, but it had still been powerful enough to vape through the shield and scream at the Liger itself.
Zeke had been the only thing that saved the day, and even then, a black, scorched trench had burnt it`s way across the Liger`s back, right between the thrusters and over the tail, which would`ve been annihilated had the Ultimate X not ducked down when it did, along with the head and everything straight through the Zoid itself.
The beam continued to fire though, and that was Marshall`s mistake. Bit was determined to make it his last.
"Funny thing about charged particle weapons," he observed, shifting just so as the beam began to thin towards it`s conclusion. "They leave ya in a fixed spot!"
Thrusters flared, the beam finished dying and the Liger`s claws flared up with a golden glow, knifing through the air in a blinding moment as lightning struck in the background, tearing through heavy snow and ashen rains at once before sinking firmly into the top layer of cockpit armor. Davis didn`t even have the chance to scream as the second layer gave way, then the third and fourth before the monitor in front of him shattered into thousands of slagging bits of plastic and glass, sparks flittering forward before the Strike Laser Claw claimed him, just like it had so many others back in the canyon mere days earlier.
For a moment, the Zoids themselves froze, the Proto Breaker standing with a near 'expression' of shock, slowly righting before it`s legs gave way, the claw punching out of it`s back and gashing through the flight unit in place there, stained with evaporating blood and newly-burning bits of clothing. Two great predators, one kneeling, the other standing while leaned against it, teeth driven into the mutant Geno`s shoulder, the other claw gripping ferally to it`s hip, supported mainly by it`s prey and it`s own hind legs.
The Breaker`s eyes dimmed, it`s tail fell to the ground with a dull thump and the Liger`s claws lost their glow, drawn away with the rest of the battle damaged Zoid, which stood triumphantly over it`s downed foe like a great champion having achieved a relatively meaningless victory.
Silence.
And then thunder.
And then, Zeke`s song ended with the Ultimate X Liger Zero belting out a massive cry of victory to the heavens themselves, which responded with even louder gusts of wind, dying down in tune with the Liger itself, with slowly calmed to regard it`s downed foe.
"Too bad," Bit commented, unphased by the most recent killing he`d made. He was honestly becoming numb to it all, and if he had stopped to think about that fact, it probably would`ve disturbed him. Probably.
"If I`d met you under different circumstances, we could`ve been pretty good friends. Oh well."
With that, the Liger began to limp away, the Proto Breaker exploding
some time later as prying eyes watched on two differing fronts.
"They did better than we thought they would," Madison commented, about as surprised as her utterly bland voice could sound, which itself would`ve made Mister Spock sound like an over-emotional drug addict. She was unphased by the weather, though the air did dirty her appearance, not that it made much of a difference since she rarely bathed, rendered as clean as Roc thought she needed to be through subtle telekinesis, which was currently unable to get the grit off.
For the first time in her own memory, Madison Rose actually felt like doing something that didn`t mean life or death. She wanted to take a bath. That was it.
Zeke played too integral a role towards the end, but I suppose it was inevitable.
"The next test will make Three stand on his own," she replied. The enormous Zoid/Organoid thing beside and behind her seemed impassive, it`s actual expression shifting slightly.
Assuming it does not kill him.
"Assuming."
Elsewhere though, the reaction was less... Restrained.
"We just lost GSV-01," one of a dozen scientists muttered aloud, tongue in cheek. "To the fucking Liger Zero, no less," he added, obviously unaware as to just how a tournament show-off Zoid that had been reported as being over a thousand miles away had just shown up and eviscerated one of the most dangerous prototype war Zoids in living memory in under an hour.
There were days where the universe just didn`t make any sense. This, unfortunately, was one of them.
"How the hell did this happen?!" He demanded, though a firm tap on the shoulder drove him out of his annoyance.
"Don`t worry about it. We`ve just gotten our first livefire testing subject, that`s all," Mary Sandler stated with an almost perversely casual tone to her voice. "If he got here, he`s probably stranded here, and we needed to test some of the experiments on this base more thoroughly in combat conditions, anyway."
"Exactly," came another voice, that of Commander Heinrich Brogan, the chief officer on the base. "All it means is that our tests are going to be a little more realistic. Besides, if the Proto Breaker couldn`t handle a single, non-war-fitted Liger, it wasn`t going to be much use on the battlefield, and neither was Davis for that matter," he said with a cold, military logic to his reasoning, stepping up to the console and looming darkly over the scientist. "And naturally, Mary, you will be going next."
Any other woman would`ve thought it a suicide mission. Sureshot just rolled her eyes and stood up straight from where she`d been leaning over the chair of the annoyed scientist, cracking her knuckles in reverse and then asking a fairly simple, straight-to-the-point answer.
"When?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. I expect you`ll be ready?"
"Of course."
At that, Sandler walked out of the monitor room without so much as a sound, seeming to fade into the hallway and out of sight without anyone ever even noticing her exit. She hadn`t been the most feared assassin in organized crime`s danger-filled underworld for nothing, after all. To her, this was just another job, another chance to prove to her employers that her name hadn`t been given to her for nothing, among other things.
For Bit Cloud, it would prove to be a trial by fire he would never forget.
End Chapter Seventeen
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Author`s Note: Poor Mark, eh? XD
Zinou: Got to you, as usual, through an IM :P
EndlessAdventure: Didn`t think Rayth and Kyle`s seeming enmity a while back was over nothing, now did you?
Illidan: Under that schedule, I`d end up dying of food and sleep deprivation and the story would never be finished at all :P
The Big Fisch: I have burnt myself out. Twice, actually, first when writing Generations and second when I was burning through the latter chapters of NA and the more recent chapters of ROC. Thankfully, I seem to be getting better now. I hope.
Well folks, what`d ya think? Leave it in a review, perhaps? Anyway,
read, enjoy, Sh33p out and see ya next time!
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