Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Blended Dimensions ❯ The Beginning ( Chapter 7 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Hibiki54 
Anime/Manga: Crossover Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.21.2005 | Updated On: 01.21.2005 | Pages: 8 | Words: 10.1K | Visits: 417 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Crossover Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Adventure / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 01.21.2005 | Updated On: 01.21.2005 | Pages: 8 | Words: 10.1K | Visits: 417 | Status: Completed
In the last episode...
The arrival of the Shadow Fox was a big surprise for the crew. Ranma was quickly taken out leaving Bud to the task of dispatching the mechanized zoid. It wasn't an easy fight; Bud nearly losing himself when the Fox-Zoid made smoke appear. It wasn't until a few inside-jokes that made the two stop and realize just whom they were fighting. Van suddenly appeared and nearly killed the Shadow Fox pilot, Lawrence, an old friend of Bud and Montel's from their world. Van got stomped out while Bud had to take out the organiod Zeke with an F-5; a fight that left Buddy the winner but almost hospitalized. After some Q&A, Naomi Fluegal ask the once important question:
"Just where did you guys come from?!"
Blended Demensions
By Bud
Chapter 7: The Beginning
Monday. No one really enjoyed Monday's that much. It was a truly hated day of the week. Any week for that matter.
Monday's signified the beginning of another long week of crap that most people have to suffer via their extremely stupid bosses that don't know the difference between a pencil and a pen. It was a day were adults had to get up in the morning, leaving their comfy bed and significant other and get ready to go to the job that they hate the most. Monday's also signalled the beginning of another week of suffering for the 18 and under group, getting up to go to school. Monday's also happened to be the worst day to be on an interstate high-way between the hours of 7am and 11am.
That was just were Buddy happened to be at the moment, stuck in his Freightliner Century Class tractor-trailer hauling some sort of material for the goverment in an air-tight 58' container trailer. Like everyone, his patients was getting very thin due to the slow moving traffic around him. Having to shift up and down constantly was a very difficult task, especially since he uses a 13-speed transmission.
He pulled on his main-horn, startling a few commuters around him with the extremely loud sound, trying to get the asshole in the Ford P.O.S. in front of him to move the fuck out of his way. Damn bitches.
Suffering thru the torment of that free-way, he headed towards his home-town of Gardena, Ca, just a couple of miles from the freeway exit. Bud was a very tired man, and wanted to actually sleep at home instead of his bunk in the cab of his truck since he was in the area.
Making a right turn, he stopped at his house, just in time for dinner and a peaceful sleep.
RING-RING! RING-RING!
"Helloow?" Bud answered the phone, sleep still in his voice. A friendly voice replied to him.
"Yo Dawg. 'This Montel. Dude, wassup?"
Buddy cleared his throat and yawned, getting some of the sleep out of him. "Shit man.. I'm tired, but I gotta deliever this shit for the goverment to New Mexico dawg. 'Dis some bullshit. Least I'm gettin' paid. Ya'llm sayin' cuz?"
"Yeah, I feel ya. Oh man. Dude. Hey, when you gonna take me with ya' cuz?"
"You know what," Bud say thoughtfully. "I'mma take yo' ass with me. I'll stop by yer house, k? Okay."
"Fo' sho'?" Montel seemed exstatic. "'aight dawg. I'll see ya'"
"I'mma holla' when I get there."
"'Aight."
Bud paused. "Imagine?"
VRROOOOMmmm..! clunk... VRRROoooMMM!! clunk.. VRROOOOMMM!!!... clunk... VRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOoommmm...!! Clunk... Vrrrrrrrrooooommmmmm----
Bud sat back in the driver seat of his truck after merging onto a clear road-way in the vast desert area of Arizona, USA. It's currently night time and raining softly outside of the truck and he just woke up to continue on his route, waking Montel up in the process. The life of a trucker is froth with peril, Buddy always says, copying the martial arts quote from his favorite anime.
Anime. That's just what Buddy would like to be watching right now instead of hauling material for the goverment. But why should he complain? He get's enough money per day to buy as much anime as he wants!
"'Ey dawg, we der yet?" Montel asked, sitting in the passanger seat with his feet up on the dash board keeping himself busy with his GBA, or GameBoy Advanced. Bud was getting slightly annoyed hearing all the Kame-Hame-Ha's and Special Beam Cannon voices from that crappy game Montel just loves to play.
"Nah man. It's like a few hundred more miles dawg.." Bud looked where Montel's feet was located. "An' niggah get yo feet away from those pressure valves! It'll be fucked up to know that your bitch ass hit my parking and trailer air brakes and my fucking shit jack-knifed and went off the road. Then I'll be fucked up. THEN I'll fuck YOU up." He looked Montel up and down. "Fuckin' niggah."
"I hear ya.. sheeeait." The young black man grumbled.
THUK-THUK!!! Psssshhhhhhhhhiiii....
Buddy screamed in fear as the truck's parking and emergency brakes suddenly came on and locked the wheels. The road was slippery from the rain-storm and the truck kept moving forward, sliding on the slick asvault roadway because of the 70 ton trailer. The connection between the trailer and truck began to angle, turning the deadly slide into a jack-knife that left the two men in a life and death situation.
With the quickness of which is him, Buddy slammed his hands down on the valves, applying air to the brakes. Turning the wheel towards the way the truck was sliding, he revved up the huge desiel engine then dropped the clutch into the lowest gear. The twin-tandem back axles spinned out on the wet road until the tires finally got traction.
"You bitch!" Bud growled, trying to control the wild swinging trailer, turning the wheel roughly as the 53ft goverment trailer swung itself. His eyes widened as they passed a section of the road that was at least 15ft higher than the actual ground.
Buddy: "...."
Montel: "...."
The trailer swung off the road, and with nothing under it to support the wheels it fell off, pulling the truck and the two young men with it.
The rain turned the dirt of the Arizona plains into a thick, cake-like mud that could trap anything heavy in it's soft, drenched consistency.
Montel flew back, sliding along the dark, wet soil, holding his cheek. That was the hardest he's been hit. Ever.
"You fucking asshole!" Bud screamed in rage. Waving his first in slight irritation. "I told your dumb ass to keep your feet away from the fucking brake valves and look what you fucking did! Now I might be out of the job, fined and have to get a new truck!" Bud looked over his shoulder. "My fucking truck!!!"
Buddy feel to his knees, sobbing to himself. In front of him was the remains of what use to be his lovely mode of transportation and his money maker. The beautiful forest green commercial semi-truck was nothing but a pile a scrape, crushed by the extreme weight of the trailer it was pulling, burned to a cinder after the low-flammable desiel fuel actually caught fire, completely desimating Bud's home away from home.
Only the trailer was left somewhat unscathed, and completely intact.
Montel, doing the wise thing and leaving his friend to be by himself, decided to investigate the goverment container. Approaching the back doors he used a pair of tin-snips, a type of scissor used to cut sheet metal, to cut away a the thin strip used to keep the door latched. He kicked at the door latch, nearly slipping due to the mud. With his wet hands, he pried open the door and stepped in. What was important right now was to make some shelter and get food. Knowing us, we need alot of food, he thought.
Expecting to find some sort of top secret food source like that replicator shit in StarTrek, instead he found a massive machine that seemed more hi-tech than that most advanced systems he has seen in his life-time.
The machine was in a word, gigantic. Nearly taking up most of the container, leaving just enough space for a large computer nerd to gain access to the control panel of - whatever it was. Montel assessed that the piece of hardware before him was not that usual goverment top secret item that you would read in the tabloids.
This was legit Area-51 shit.
"Dawg!" Bud looked up to see Montel motioning him over to the container. He finally stopped his crying a few moments ago, getting himself together. It wasn't really the fact that his black-homie fucked shit up, it was because he didn't show him the this-N-that of his truck before they took off.
"Dude! You gotta see this shit!"
"Aight cuz! Damn. Stop bein' a little kid, ya cocksucker." Quickly looking inside the trailer, his jaw dropped. "What. The...." Inside, the gigantic machine was something he wouldn't NEVER of suspected that would be in the last place he could think of. "...fuck."
Buddy's mind processed the item as one thing, and the only thing that was plausiable to his shocked mind. "Ey cuz?"
"What'up?" Montel replied.
"Ya'll know what that is?"
"Nah." Montel shrugged. He smacked Bud upside the head and whispered as if trying to keep it a secret. "Niggah I wouldn't of ASKED you ta come over if I DIDN'T KNOW....!"
"Fuck you asshole!" Bud hit Montel with a right hook.
The black man smacked Buddy with a back-hand. "Bitch!"
Bud punched Montel repeatedly until he was dazed silly before stepping back and holding his hand out. Spitting into his open palm, her swung with that arm, rocking Montel back making him hit his head on the trailer door. "Jabroni!"
Bud taunted, hopping back and doing a cocking motion with his arm. He kicked forward with a leg, taunting like The Rock. "ACK!" He slipped back and knocked himself out on a rock.
"Alright." Bud said finally. Both him and Montel were checking out the strange mechanism that the black man discovered in the trailer. So far, the console on one side of the machine seemed to be in their language (english) and displayed large amounts of information that Bud could barely understand. Montel just watched, science and computers not being his forte. "Check this yo; This here seems to have come from exactly..." The large asian man looked closely, skimming his finger on a line of calculations. ".. 2000m above sea level at coordinates-- umm... 22 degrees Latitude, 150 degress Longitude." Bud slowly turned his head, reading the last few words. "Macross Island."
"Huh?" Montel looked sort of confused by all that. "Macross Island? Ain't that from that Robotech anime that you like?"
"Yes, but that's just the ---... DUDE!" Bud stood up suddenly slamming his fist onto the console. He missed the message and count-down starting at 60 seconds. "This is the Fold system from Robotech dawg. This is what happened to it. Oh my god, shit, cuz I'm the luckiest niggah in the world."
"So what you're saying is that this is some warp drive?"
Bud shook his head. "Nah man, this is a Fold drive. It's used to fold one point of space to another. It's kinda like instant transmission from DBZ."
Montel glanced at the screen. It said 20 seconds, and counting down. "Shit! Let's get out! I think it's gonna blow!" He boned-out quick. Bud followed him, but he was kinda slow since he was on the side of the Fold drive. By the time he exited the trailer, he didn't have enough time to scream as a intense bright light engulfed him, Montel and everything else in a 1 mile radius.
On that day, Montel Wysinger and Bud Arnold was declared missing.
The stench was horriable, hitting his nose as if getting smashed by a 300lbs line-backer on pendecyline. The highly annoying and torturous drops of water, falling from a leaking pipe only to puddle in a secluded section, echoing off the walls into the ears of many. He was the only one to stur, though, being his first time in this room.
He slowly opened his eyes, knowing that if there was a bright light it would immediately blind him and cause a major head-ache. He didn't need that now.
Once his occulii were able to focus, he blinked. Expecting some dank, musty old room secured by bars and concrete, he was surprised to be greeted with the site of a technologically advanced, dank, musty room. Yet, instead of the iron bars and concrete walls, there was some sort of transparent field consisting of one 'wall' and a type of steel paneling surrounding the glowing field.
Looking around, he noticed a couple occupants dressed in a fashion that reminded him of hard-core punk rockers from the 70's and 80's. Dark, multi-colored hair. Chains, collars with spikes. Leather. Strange piercings he would rather not mention, and all sorts of other attire. It kinda freaked him out actually.
A loud, distant scream pierced the silence causing him to whip his head around. It sounded like a man in extreme agony followed by something, or someone being slammed.
Strange how the other occupants didn't pay attention to it.
He stood, adjusting his pants, which he was happy he still had on, and walked over to the field to investigate what it was and find the source of the cry. He moves his hand to touch the field and---
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He stop centimeters from the field, turning his head to look at one of the punks, sitting down on his ass in the far, dark corner of the room. The punk looked pale, yet did not seem sick as she spoke again. "You touch that and you'll be thrown back and stunned. Not that I care, but your hand would be in severe pain also. It effects your nervous system. Basically, it fucks you up man." he finished with a toothy grin.
He shrugged, deciding to follow along. "Ey, whatever." He jumped, hearing the air piercing scream again, this time louder than before. The lights, or light on the ceiling dimmed for a bit before becoming it's normal luminescent glow, which wasn't that impressive. "What the fuck was that...?!" he said.
"Just someone getting totured. Yo' ass 'ill get use ta it." He waves his hand in a jesture that pointed everyone else out. "Jus like evereyone else, you get use to it. It's a daily, and sumtimes nightly thing. Though some of theze fags like the nightly ones."
"Ewww..." he thought.
The man stood up, dusting his ass off of dust and .. whatever. Though he looked like a punk, he was more casually dressed in slacks and a black tee-shirt. Surprisingly, he had on a pair of glasses and some sort of technologically advanced watch adorned his wrist. "I'm Chibodee Crockett. What's yers kid?"
Kid?! "My name is Montel," the black man said. "And I aint no kid, cuz!"
"Whoa, back off tiger. Just how I talk, ya know?" Chibodee put his hands up, and waved the black man off, taking a step back. "Besides, all of us here are friends whether we like it or not. We gotta stick together or we'll never get outta here."
"Shut up Crockett!" one of the 'sleeping' punks whispered.
Montel shrugged at sat back down on the cot he woke up on. This was just great! He doesn't know anything of where he's at except that he's in some sorta holding facility. To top that, he doesn't know where his homie Buddy is at and he's in a room full of white punk-rockers and a nerd. What's next?
"So how you get locked up here in the pokiey with us Reds?" Chibodee asked, sitting down next to Montel yet keeping the standard 2ft distance that was required between strange men. "I mean, it's strange 'cause this is the high-security cell."
Montel sighed. "I don't know..."
Chibodee pulled out a tooth-pick from a pocket and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on an end. "Wha..? You gotta of done something---Hmm?" Another scream, this one sounding as if the person was screaming for someone to help him, yet not able to recieve that help. "Damn, that's taking longer than they usually do. It's already been 2 days and they haven't stopped torturing the guy for info---ack!"
Montel, grabbing the casually dressed punk, lifted him up and pinned him against the back-wall. "WHO are they doin' that too?!" He looked ready to kill. His eyes were watering and he started to breathe faster, not wanting to hear what he thought.
"I-I-I d-don't know!" Chibodee stuttered out. "It was some guy that they had with you, but they threw you in here and dragged him off. He looked Japanese, or chinese, or some asian race in the ocean." He gasped for breath when Montel's hands eased up.
Buddy! Montel was hoping that his friend was okay. Of course he could survive without his pal, but it just wouldn't be the same. Plus, he still owed the guy $20.
"I do know why they picked him instead of you." Chibodee inquiried. "Ya wanna know?"
"Why did they pick him instead of me?!"
Chibodee leaned in close and whispered. "Well, it's--"
"Yeah, did you see the new proto-type man? It's sweet." Guard A zipped up his zipper after tucking his dick back in his pants. He walked away from the wall, the toilet flushing on it's own.
Another man was at a sink, looking into the mirror as he combed his hair. "Yeah, I here that the test-pilot died suddenly and their looking for a new one. Sucks."
"IT'S CAUSE YOUR BLACK!!" was suddenly shouted, shocking the men, followed by a sounding bitch-slap and something hitting a wall. Out of nowhere, the ever-present tortured cry echo'ed into their ears.
"Damn, their fucking that guy up."
"Yeah, and their trying to convince him he's a black guy."
"He probably is. He has a big dick." The man swooned, then was violently bitch-slapped by the guard.
"Shut up fag."
"Ow...."
Another day pasted and Montel was beginning to get seriously worried about his large asian friend. The screams of agony stopped around 4 hours ago, and there were no other sounds except for the snoring and jibber-jabebr of th morons that he just had to be caged with. From what he gained from Chibodee, is that he was locked up in some high-security military base operated by the UN Spacy. He tried remembering where he heard that name before, but put it aside for the moment.
The sounds of approaching guards alerted him, and he took up the casual appearence of some thug hanging out by the liquor store on the corner.
He suddenly lost his composure at the sight that greeted him.
"BUDDY!"
Montel rushed to the door and was suddenly put at gunpoint by a pair of futuristing rifles ressembling AK-47's without clips. He took a couple steps back, looking as if he was a thug, pulling his pants up slightly and making it look like his arms were bigger than they were. "Niggah, ya'll best recodnize fo I bust yer grip... bitch."
"Ahh cuz!" Montel jumped up, hopping over the shot aimed at his feet. "Niggah you crazy er sumthin?!"
"Step back scum." The guard explaimed as his partners threw Bud into the cell unceremonially. Re-activating the screen, then turned and walked away, chuckling between each other. Montel moved over to Bud quickly to check him out, along with some of the other cellmates.
"Oh damn...." Montel nearly lost his lunch, literally. Buddy's body was a complete mess. Clothed in only a pair of boxer-briefs, it left his whole body exposed to all the could see.
Scars and opened wounds covered Bud's light brown skin destroying what once was piece of art sculped by years of hard work, sports and working out. His arms looked like someone took an egg knife and diced his skin, leaving small, tiny cross marks from shoulder to wrist. A burn mark was left along both of his wrist, stopping the blood from leaving his body. Huge raw welts lined his body from head to toe, probably caused by a whip someone pointed out.
The worse ones were the huge, along black scars lining his back and chest that looked very fresh. They actually dug a few millimeters into the skin and formed into curved crosses or X's. Several cuts were on his face, one of which ran from the top of his forehead down across his left eye running down the cheek to stop at the edge of his chin. That and the huge array of bruises and more welts lined the huge asian mans body.
Chibodee stepped up and pushes some of the lookers away. Kneeling next to Bud, he set down a first-aid kit and began doing his work. "Give me an hour or so. I need to treat the guy and bandage him. He'll live, it's just his mind and his body that will be probably fucked up. But all in all, his wounds will heal though he'll have bad skin for the rest of his life."
Montel slapped him upside the head. "Bad joke, just get to it."
It was hours before Buddy finally came too. The first thing he felt was pain. It laced all over his body like electricity running thru an array of wires. He felt like shit. Like someone took a jack-hammer and went wild on him. His skin felt like someone was taking an red-hot iron rod and was burning him.
As a matter of fact, someone was.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" he screamed as he sat up, huffing and puffing with wide-eyes.
"GaAH!" Chibodee dropped the rod in surprise, making a loud clattering sound. He crawled back a little from his awakened and seemingly upset patient.
Bud growled ferally, like wolf ready to pounce. But he kept himself in check after noticing the medical supplies on a small tray. He decided to let the guy have the better of the doubt. "How long has it been?" he asked slowly, placing his hand on his head to try and stop the pounding in his mind.
"Three to four days since you first came in, kid."
Buddy let out a deep sigh and slowly go to his feet, though a big ruggishly as he was still feeling the effects of his torment. He took his time to reach a nearby sink, shrugging off some help from one of the other prisoners. He didn't have a particular like for their kind, even if he was a nice guy. Damn fags.
"What about the guy that I came in with?"
Chibodee regained his composure after staring at the largish man. "Took him to another cell."
"Good." The prisoner/medic looked confused.
"How is that good? He's your friend, right?"
Buddy coughed, then heaved suddenly until a small round object, the size of a marble dropped into the sink with a metallic clank. Picking the round item in his hand, he immediately vomited, spilling --whatever is was-- into the lavatory. There was another clank, so he searched in the indigestive waste, feeling around. As sickening as it was he picked out another small object, this time oval in appearance and had a small screen on it.
"This is will work perfect." Again, Chibodee had to back away from Buddy as the guy began to laugh manically.
Around a day later...
"Get in there you piece of shit!"
"Fuck you ya slob!" Bud sat up from his metallica cot and watched as Montel was thrown into the brig along with his clothes. "Niggah, ya'll lucky you got them guns!"
Their reply was a 'friendly' finger jesture. "Kiss my ass darky."
"Damn coons." The dark-skinned man quickly put on his clothes before he was accosted by one of the fruity-looking punks before looking at his homie. "You aight dawg?" Bud shrugged.
"I've been better, but I'm cool for now." He sat up completely and swung his legs around so his feet touched the floor. "So what they asked you?"
"Just some bullshit. Where I'm from? Who am I? What do I know? Sheat like that." Bud nodded and leaned his head back. He motioned Montel to sit next to him, which he did.
"Check this man," he began in a whisper. "I know what's up right now and where we at." This got Montel's attention.
"Remember that one anime I love; Macross Plus?" He nodded. "Well, I think that fold drive bended space and some how, instead of transporting from point to point, it took us to some alternate demension and time. We're like 50 years into the future man."
"Damn. Shit, that's trippy." Montel glared at one of the punks, a look that ment to get back or get fucked up. "So we're like what, in an anime?" Bud growled, looking away.
"Does it look like I'm in an anime? Look at me bro, look at what they did to me and how I am now." Bud cracked his knuckles. "This is real life and our lives are at steak."
Montel sighed and rubbed his chin. "So what we fin' ta do?"
"I guess we're gonna have to bust out in a couple days." He pulled out a handful of small deviced, all the size of marbles and some looked like long cycliners around 2inches long and 3/4in thick. "I've managed to pick-pocket some of the soldiers during some scuffles since you been out and hid them." He noticed the look on his face. "Don't ask, just shut up okay?!"
Montel tried not to laugh. "You mean you--"
"Shut up!"
The couple days changed to a couple weeks. Bud heard from some of the 'veteran' prisoners that on a certain day of the month, the facility man-power was greatly reduced. Problem was, though the number of guards were less, the remaining were considered the best of the best of THE best. Meaning that they were special forces type soldiers placed on garrison.
It was a risk, but what's life without chances.
Bud and Montel began working on their plan. Bud's quick hands secured them a miniature PDA that just happened to have the scematics of the whole base, including the air-field and hangars which were 1 mile away.
The plan was perfect. Over the pass few days, Bud had managed to acquistion a few of those flash-bang and frag grenades from guards during prisoner brawls; most of them started by Montel as a destraction. They never knew they were missing. They would use this ordinace until that could acquire more useful weaponry from dead guards. Next, hijack a mode of transportation and get the fuck on out.
Hopefully, they wouldn't send Valkyrie squads after them.
One that certain day...
"You ready dawg?" Bud whispered.
Montel nodded. "Yeah, let's do this." He walked over to the force-field and looked at the guard. Instead of a male, he discovered that the person was a female. He didn't have to be a military man to know that this girl could probably kill him if she wanted to. He turned to Bud and winked, giving him a signal that he'll try something else.
"Damn girl," Montel said, leaning up against the inside of the arch-way, just inches from the field. "You look a little tense."
The guard looked at him funny, then replied. "First time on the job."
"Oh yeah?" She nodded. "How long you been in?"
"Around 5 years. Just transfered here after I completed Valk-training. Got tried of it."
Montel had no idea what she just said, but played along. "That's coo." He crosses his arms. "Damn, it's been a while since I've seen a girl as hot as you. If I could, I would do you right here and now if I had the chance."
She narrowed her eyes, then another female guard came into view. "The prisoner bothering you, Private?"
"No ma;am, just attempting to tempt me with offers of indesency."
The 2nd female, obviously an officer, smirked looking Montel up and down. "When was the last time you had some, Private?"
The girl looked down in embarrassment. "Before basic."
"Damn girl," Montel said. "Yo ass needs some hot lovin'!"
"From you? I doubt that. You probably have a little dick." This came from the officer.
Montel got a bit upset. "Little dick?! Bitch... " He unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Now what we have right here is a fine speciment of an Alabama Black Snake otherwise known in California as--" He smirked. "--ANACONDAAAHH!!" "Now if this is little to you, then you must be so loose Osama Bin Laden could use your cunt as a hide-out."
He got the reaction he wanted. The first girl started to salivate, staring at his limp dick. She even sat down her rifle, unable to stop herself from touching her own body thru her BDU's. He was enjoying this alot.
"Alright stud," The officer aimed her rifle at the doorway and turned off the force-field. "Step out and give the girl some 'hot-lovin'."
"Right here?" He asked, stepping out while tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up.
"Nah, in there with all the fags, Yes right here." She smirked. "I wanna watch."
"Damn, you a freak." He paused. "Oh yeah. I ALMOST fer-got. Catch." He tossed her a small silver marble and jumped out of the way. The officers first instinct was the catch the item, but it was too late to realize her mistake. Just as Montel hit the floor and face down covering his face, the ball exploded in a bright, blinding light. Both women screamed in extreme pain as their eyes were blinded by the intense flash of artificial light, forcing them to drop their weapons and protect themselves.
Like a wolf, Buddy rushed in as fast as he could during the commotion. Diving and rolling forward, he snatched the dropped rifle and squeezed the trigger twice, borring one hole into each of the girls foreheads.
Montel stood and dusted himself off. He caught the pistol tossed to him and cocked it back instinctively. And it worked. "So what now?"
Buddy twisted one of the metallica cylinders and threw it down the hall. Just as a group of guards, male and female turned the corner, their screams were muffled by the explosion that engulfed them. "We run like the police after us."
"Sounds good to me."
The duo quickly ran down corridors as fast as they could dodging the occassional guard that passed by. Montel made an off-handed comment about all this reminding him of Metal Gear Solid, and it took Bud all he had to NOT slap his partner. Sirens were blairing as they turned a corner, running into one of the elite UN Spacy guards that were stationed in this facility.
"Halt!" The guard shouted, a strange exclamation point appearing over his head.
Buddy charged him, growling out in a war cry. His legs pumped quickly forcing his large frame to move faster than one would not expected someone of his size to achieve. "Move bitch!" He shouted, jumping up as he neared the guard, turning and lifting his leg smashing the soldier's jaw in with his knee, knocking him down and out.
Without missing a step, Bud turned his stolen rifle at the downed man and placed two clean shots in his legs, immobilizing him. Montel quickly removing the guard of his fire-arm and followed Bud around the corner.
BOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A section of wall suddenly exploded outward killing few soldiers and injuring many. Smoke poured out of the hole just as a military truck jumped out, turning and speeding out towards the west. Five more vehicles followed filled with soldiers returning fire.
"AhhhH!!!" Bud jerked the wheel, pushing his foot harder on the accelerator just as deadly beams of energy danced across an archway which acted as a gate. "Phew...Ey, they still behind us dawg?"
"Niggah! What you think?!" Montel said sarcastically returning fire at the guard-towers. "Where the fuck are we going anyway?!"
Bud made a quick turn onto a paved road. "There's an air-base 20miles down this road and a city 10miles the otherway." The large asian man smirked. "They'll think we went to the city, being that it's more larger than the air-base."
"What if these niggahs find us?" Buddy just help up a black box.
"Not if this is on us."
"Buddy?"
"Sup foo?"
"Is robots suppose to be following us?"
"WHAT?!"
Just behind them in the distance a group of three Valkyrie fighters in gerwalk mode followed them. They slowly approached staying at an exact distance of 500m with their large gatling rifles trained on their stolen truck.
Bud growled. "Fucking assholes." Montel smacked him upside his head.
"I told yo ass."
"Niggie, you didn't tell me shit." Bud checked his mirrors. "They don't seem to be doing anything but following anyway. I wonder why?" he chuckled.
"Yeah, I wonder why?" Montel said, pointing his weapon at the head of the tied and gagged soldier he just happened to be sitting on.
The sun slowly setted to the west as the moon took it's place, it's luminenscence bringing an eerie light to the dark highway. Up in the distance, then flashing beacons of towers could be seen. Red, white and blue. All three used as indicators for winged craft to land on a strip off tarmac.
The sounds of mecha were all around ranging from veritechs to the thunderous pounding of destroids. Spot-lights that could blind a normal man if looked directly into zeroed into the speeding truck and followed it as it sped on it's course into the base. The mecha pilots did not dare open fire, as their own comrad was taken capture by the two prison escapee's.
"Get the fuck in there!" Montel threw their hostage into a door that Bud successfully kicked down. He ducked in quickly and shut the door as the following light homed in on him. "So what now B?"
Buddy walked over to the UN Spacy soldier--- No, pilot, he corrected and pulled his head up to see his face. "What's yer----What the fuck?!" The pilot glared at Bud.
"What?" Montel asked. Bud just stared at the guy.
"I know you..." He said slowly. "Yer Isamu Dyson. Damn," he shook his head and turned away. "I can't believe it. We just kidnapped one of the best fighter jocks in the world."
"I see I'm even known by renegade Zentradi." Dyson spat, though he had this cocky smirk on his face. Bud frowned but didn't reply to the comment.
"You know what this hangar is for, Dyson?" Bud watched his eyes. He didn't get an answer.
Montel smacked the tied up pilot upside the head. "Hey asked ya' a question."
Isamu looked un-certain, his eyes roving from left to right ocassionally. "Just a place where we store junked material."
"I thought so." Bud said non-challantly. "You watch him for a second Montel," Bud looked down at his current state of dress, which wasn't really much. "I need some gear."
The building they hid-out in was one of the larger hangars on the base. It was a stereo-typical half-cylinder structure, yet it was seemingly made up of a combination of concrete walls and a type of metallic alloy used as a roof. Attached to the west-side of the hangar, and the current location of the men, is what would be a locker room.
The locker room had the typical showers and head, and the changing room filled with large electronic lockers. This place was probably were several fighter pilots would change gear and play grap ass if they were a bunch of fruit-cakes.
"Attention escapee's," A booming voice sounded on a loud-speaker from the outside. "This is UN Spacy Military Police. And we demand that you return the hostage to us and surrender peacefully or we would be forced to use extreme measures in your apprehension."
Montel cursed and dragged the pilot to a window, making sure his head isn't visiable. "Niggah fuck you pig! Yo' ass ain't gunna do shit! You try anythin' and I'll blow dis niggah's head off, ya heard!"
The black man growled and dragged Isamu Dyson over to one of the pillars in the center of the room. Slamming the young pilot against the metallic support, he quickly untied then retied his bindings so he would be held against the pole in a sitting position. He turned to look at the stall his friend walked into. "You heard that dawg?"
"Yeah." The door to the stall opened and Buddy stepped out. Montel's eyes widened at what he saw.
Bud was dressed in an UN Spacy flight suit that seemed to fit him perfectly. It wasn't the standard pilots suit that one would guess. It had a different color scheme, possiably customized by the original owner. The main body of the suit was a sleek black with the stripe colored in a cherry red. The shoulder pads of the suit was colored in the standard highlight of yellow which usually stood out in the dark. Adorning the chest was the standard oxygen supply unit for combat in a vaccuum. Finally, in Buddy's left hand he held a black flight helmet trimmed with red and yellow with a decal of the UN Spacy on either side.
Bud blinked at his black partners gawking stare. "What? My zipper down?"
Montel picked himself up off the floor. "Anyways, did you hear that shit dawg?"
"Wha..? Oh you mean that niggah outside? Fuck that shit." He tossed the tall black man a large duffle bag. "Plant that shit inside the hangar. I'll take care of the MP's."
"Aight."
"Well Dyson," Bud stood by the window, smirking at the hot shot pilot. "Looks like you're in a tuff one, eh? How you gonna get out of this one?"
Isamu kept his mouth shut and looked away. It wasn't like he didn't want to look at the guy in the eyes. The scars just made him sick just looking at them. "Kiss my ass."
"I would but I probably won't like the taste." Bud deadpanned before turning his head to the window. "No deal coppers! And if that infiltration team tries anything, I got around 20 Class 12 Reflex mines planted all around the hangar. That's enough explosive power to destroy this whole base and some. I doubt you wanna piss me off ya jerks."
"We do not have to comply with terrorist like yourselves. But if you surrender, you shall be granted a fair trial." The MP representative replied. "Release the hostage and surrender and you will be treated fairly."
"Treated fairly?!" Bud cried in anger. "Just like those assholes treated me fairly when they tortured me for THREE DAYS?!!! THREE FUCKING DAYS?!! You know how much that shit hurt?!" He pulled the last miniature explosive he saved from the prison break and thru it out the window in a random direction. The screams of pain were music to his ears making him smile.
"Why the fuck you do that ya psycho?"
"Shut up Dyson. If you weren't my hero I would kill you right now." Bud said in a low voice.
"What?"
Bud turned his head away and spoke in a low voice. "Where I come from, I always dreamed of flying. To be like an eagle. Feel the air under my wings and soar freely." He sat down and closed his eyes. "I wanted to be a pilot so I tried joining the military."
"And?"
"And nothing. The morons said I was too heavy to join up, yet I passed all their exams and physical test. My weight was the main factor." The young asian let out a heavy sigh. "They didn't know what they were missing. I could fly so close to the ground you would think I was on wheels. I could pull G's that would cripple or kill others. But they still didn't take me. Damn bitches."
"So were do I come into play?" Isamu asked. "You're almost as old as I am."
"Ha! You're right." Bud chuckled. "Would you believe that where I come from, yer punk ass is just some cartoon character?"
"What?"
"Imagine?"
"Damn it's dark in here..."
Montel just stepped thru the double-doorway leading to the largest section of the complex, the main hangar. His eyes could not focus on anything in the pitch blackness of the huge air-craft bay. Only the hollow light comming from the entry-way behind him giving the dark skinned fellow any type of luminescence for him to see. Using some common sense, her moves over to the left side of the door, her felt around the wall area for a switch.
"Ah ha."
Now that there was some light, he looked in the large forest green duffle bag. He counted 20 of the mines Buddy was talking about so he prepared himself to set them up. He pulled one out and looked at it. The Class 12 Reflex Mine looked to be the size of a 6inch Subway sandwich with a small 2x3inch box on one side with two blue buttons and one red and a smal retractable antenna on the side. Montel shrugged at the look of the item and began to set the first one down in front of him.
"Hold up." He paused. "How so I set dis' shut up? Damn. Cuz. Fuck. Hold up... Hoooold up."
He stuck his head out of the door and watch as Bud screamed some curse at the military police outside. "Eh' cuz!"
Bud swung around and said, "What?!"
Montel scratched his head and held up the mine. "How you set this shit up?"
Bud looked a him for a second, then looked out the window. Looked at Montel, then window. Glanced at the black man, then window but kept his eyes on him. "Eh cuz.. Hold up a sec'."
"Aight," The scarred asian man began. "All yo ass needs to do is, press both of the blue buttons one at a time ONCE, aight? Pull out the antenna, then set it down unless ya'll ready did that see?" He pointed at the red button. "See this? Don't be like the white folk and see what it does when it start glowin', cuz my ass don't wanna be some shiznit on dah all, ya heard."
Isamu sweat dropped.
Montel nodded and walked back. "I back in a minute then."
"Niggah shut yo ass up fo I come out there and break yo punk ass off niggah. WHAT?! My mommy? Niggah yo mamma so fat she got a turkey leg fo a neck bone and grits for cholesterol."
Montel started cracking up laughing before starting his task.
The UN Spacy MP's were getting very frustration with the hard-headedness of the 'terrorist', and Buddy could tell. They could not do anything since any sort of rescue mission would result in retaliation of either the execution of the UN Spacy hostage Lt. Isamu Dyson, or destruction of the base via Class 12 Reflex mines. The destructive yeild of 1 mine was approximately 1.5 MT (Mega-Tons). 20 mines could created enough explosive power to reach the huge reflex furance that are housed 1 kilometer underground.
That's enough destructive power to destroy the land in a 50 mile radius, AND send out radiation 100miles farther out.
They really didn't want to take chanced with them.
Bud sat by the window, staring at the ceiling. He was rather bored at this time. Three hours stuck in a locker room with Dyson was NOT something he rather liked. Idol or not.
"You could start a conversation, you know." Bud said off-handedly.
"I would but I'm currently tied up at the moment." he dead-panned.
"Che..." Bud's ears perked up, hearing a distant sound that reminded him of---
"Hey!" He shouted out the window. "You tell those VF-14 Bombers to back off, asshole! I had enough time to modify boards 12B-33 and 13F-34 to the main arming trigger and set it to connect with the electronic fuse of mines. You drop those and this base and everything in a 200 mile radius won't be habitable for the next hundred thousand years!" He heard someone curse and give a command to stop some operation. "Ya bettah had..."
Isamu stared at his captor in astonishment.
The large asian man glared at him. "What?"
"How?"
"How, what?" Isamu glared.
"How did you know those heavy bomber were comming?!" His head whipped to the side sporting a large hand print.
"Shut up," Bud hissed. "Just because I'm not from this time doesn't mean I don't know anything."
Dyson kept quiet. Then suddenly Montel burst in thru the doors.
"Dude! You gotta check this out!" He ducked back into the hangar just as fast as he came in. Buddy just shrugged and followed.
"......"
Montel spoke up. "Dawg, that's exactly what I though!"
"......" Bud just stared ahead.
This is it, Bud thought. In his whole life, he would not of believed it would of happened. This was his dream. This was his destiny. Now, this was his fate.
Before him stood what would be one of the most technologically advanced craft in this current time period and demension. It was designed and built in 2039, last year in this demension, by Shinsei Industries as their entry into Project Super Nova design contest being conducted by United Nation Space Administration (UN Spacy). The projects main purpose was to develop a new variable fighter to replace the aging VF-11 Thunderbolt as the main fighter for UN Space military forces. This fighter was one of two fighters selected for the final competition at New Edwards Flight Center on Planet Eden; the other design was a fighter developed by General Galaxy. This illustrious piece of techological mastery, developed by child genius Yan Newmann of Shinsei Industries, is now slowly replacing the VF-11 as their main fighter.
Before him was his dream. His destiney. His fate.
The proto-type of the VF-19 Excalibur, YF-19 "Alpha One".
"....Oh my." Was all Buddy could say as he gazed at the craft. Not just any craft, HIS craft, he heard in his mind from a voice he did not knew nor cared for.
He slowly traversed around the craft, his eyes roaming over the tan color, the forward-fixed wings, the in-take nacelles for the powerful thermonuclear engines which give the craft enough velocity to escape the Earth's gravity pull and take planetary orbit. He ran around the fighter, looking at all the missle loaded on the hard-points of the wings and on the fuselage.
A couple things did seem odd about the fighter though. The GU-15 external gun pod, it's main weapon, was missing and some strange fast packs were connected to the fighter which he did not recodnize. He would have to ask Dyson later.
"Montel," Bud began. "We have our ticket out of here." he said as he gazed around, noticing all the military ordinace and huge metallic crates labelled YF-19 Replacement Units.
It took Buddy some time but he managed to fully load the futuristic veritech fighter with all that he could possiably need. Being cautious, he read the operations manual that just happened to be in the rear compartment of the cock-pit. After an hour of speed reading, he found out that the fast pack units connected to the leg section of the fighter were used as missle silos that could hold up to 20 of the new Bifor's High-Maneuver Mini-Missles and 1 standard long-range missles or 2 of the new medium range high-maneuver missle.
Further reading also explained that a new main rifle was issued for the proto-type for more advanced testing, which surprised him greatly since the tri-GU-15 was a very effective fire-arm for this era of mecha. There was a serial number on the page that matched the one on the large metal crate he noted earlier.
"Hmm..." There was an electronic lock, he noticed after approaching the cargo. Looking at the book, he punched in a code that was designated on the next page. A loud hiss came from the crate and it's top section opened up like the trunk of a car, also pulling the side panel up with it. "Woah..."
Inside was one huge rifle. Unlike the Howard GU-15, which was a 30mm Tri-barrel gatling rifle housed inside of a rifle-shaped casing, this particular weapon had a design that was made for heavy assault. According to the specifications, this unit was designed with seven 40mm smoothbore barrels, designed for high-velocity fire, secured close together to form a type of vulcan cannon. The housing for the cannon was cylinderic-like which formed the main housing for the cannon barrels, but did not conceil them completely. The barrels of the cannons protruded 2 feet from it's housing, probably do to the fact that the barrels were so massive, they couldn't make a housing that could completely support it.
One thing about the weapon was it's fire-control mechanism was similiar to the GU-15 Gun Pod, so familiarism with the weapon wouldn't take that much time. Another plus was the clips containing the ammunition. Because of the larger caliber of the cannon, the clips were specially designed to be used with the YF-19 and designed to contain 2000 rounds of transuranium slugs intead of the meager 400 round clips. With that came a larger shield to hold 2 of the replacement clips.
This all exceeded the young asian mans expectations of what would be his dream fighter. Power, speed and agility all rolled into one fighting platform.
He was gonna have fun with this.
A few hours later, everything was set for the big escape. It seems that the hangar they were in was a repair bay for Alpha-One to complete final test on Earth. Using special dolly's and cranes Bud was able to full load the fighter with his choice of arsenal.
The Howard GU-15 was replaced with the Three Star XS-15, the 40mm gatling rifle found in the container. Each of the two hard-points on each wing were armed with three MRM-120 Jackhammer missles, a type of missle that would explode after reaching a certain range of the target before breaking off into multiple mini-missles destroying the target and other surrounding mecha.
The two hard-point on the fuselage of the fighter itself were armed with the 1 MRHM or medium range high maneuver missles each. The fast packs connected to the leg section were loading with 20 of the new Bifor's BMM-24 High maneuver mini-missles and 2 of the MRHMMs in each one. The bay in the legs held another 2 MRHMMs.
Two clips for the XS-15 were loaded in the redesigned shield. Completing the arsenal were the Mauler REB-30G anti-aircraft pulse laser and two Mauler REB-23 anti-aircraft laser guns, the main weapons for the plane in fighter mode.
"Phew--! Done!" Buddy exclaimed while wiping his head off with a towel. That was alot of hard work, he though to himself. Everything was finally ready so the two men could get the hell out of there. Now, it was all a matter of evading all the military units outside of the hangar.
"All set Montel." Bud said as he stepped back into the locker. Montel looked pretty upset.
"Niggah, it took you THAT long to get that shit done?!" The large man just shrugged.
"Yeah," He smirked at Isamu, annoying the young Lieutenant. "The YF-19 is a piece of artwork. I had to be delicate when loading that. Did a pretty good job if I don't say so myself."
"What did you do to my baby?!" Dyson growled.
"Shut up." Bud snatched Montel's weapon from his hand. With one motion, he aimed the gun at Isamu Dyson's head and pulled the trigger.
Bud tossed the black man his pistol and walked off. "Let's go dawg. I don't wanna stay here forever."
He couldn't take his eyes off Bud's back. He was surprised that his friend killed their hostage without blinking an eye afterward. He took it that Bud must still be under some trama from this torture. But he wouldn't know.
"Here." Montel caught the package tossed to him.
"What this?"
Bud placed his helmet over his head, locking it onto the flight suit with a press of a button. "That's a space suit. We might go into space to use the fold drive to get home. But we might not making it into orbit, being that their are so many planetary defenses out there."
"I guess..." Montel shrugged and started to dawn the space suit.
"Yeah..."
Outside the hanger building was surrounding by a multitude of UN Spacy destroids, valkyrie fighters and ground troops. Nearly a 48 hours have passed since the prisoners have escaped Fort Johnson and have barricaded themself inside a hangar with a test pilot as a hostage. To top that off, no rescue attemps would be made, seeing as the escapee have jury-rigged 20 Class 12 Reflex mines to explode by remote for from impact. Mine powerful enough to set off a chain reaction in the underground reflex furnace causing immediate melt-down.
So far, UN Spacy military police have been calm about the situation from the begining. But that sense of calm has begun to wear-out rapidly due to this prolonged waiting period.
Currently, talks trying to convince the terrorist have always ended in an exchange of profane words and insults bringing an immediate halt to the proceeding. One of the terrorist continuously attempted to remind them of how the person was tortured in prison; which would obviously be false since that form of interogation has been banned in the UN since 2003. They did run an investigation upon Fort Johnson just to make sure, though.
An explosion rocked the ground and debri began to rain down upon the UN Spacy forces, immediately killing soldiers as large chunks of hyper-carbon and reinforced concrete slam onto their positions. Mecha began to move into position, preparing for danger.
Smoke poured out of the roof of the hangar, filling the evening sky. Out from the new hole came the distinct sound of a fighter taking off, it's powerful jet engine causing the tarmac to rumble deeply. Before anyone could react a beige colored fighter shot up into the sky in gerwalk mode in a VTOL take off before converting to it's fighter mode.
The fighter, YF-19 Alpha-One, hovered in the air for a split second before it's powerful FF-2500E themonuclear reactors ignited. A panel opened up on one of the leg/thruster sections of the jet exposing a cluster of missles. As the fighter, piloted by Buddy and passanger Montel, blasted-off across the evening sky-line and into the horizon, a lone mini-missle ejected from it's silo and slowly dropped a few feet before it ignited and shot into the open roof.
"Yaaahooooooooooo!!! Yeah!" The large asian pilot exclaimed, increasing the throttle of the fighter. A loud rumbled followed by the sound of flowing air signalled the breaking of the sound barrier. An indicator told Bud that his speed increased near 2200mph, or Mach 2.9.
Behind the plane off in the distance a huge mushroom cloud rose high into the sky, filling the darkened atmosphere with an eerie orange-red hue, like the sun setting off in the west.
"Ey' Bud," Montel began as he placed on the helmet for his space suit. "So how we gonna get outta here?"
Bud checked the radar on the HUD. His hands firmly gripped in the side-mounted HOTAS (Hands On Throttle And Stick) and eased the variable fighter onto a new course and heading. Long-range radar picked up blips, both stationary and moving closing in fast. He took his hand off the throttle, easing the stick back making the fighter move into a slow climb.
"I guess we gonna do what happen the first time." Montel looked kinda confused.
"What?" He questioned. "What'chu mean dawg?"
Bud turned to look back, the faint hint of a smirk scene thru the tinted visor. "You'll see." he said just as his hand danced across his control interface.
"Niggah what you----Ahhhhhhhh!!!"
A bubble enveloped the YF-19 and in an impressive light show, the fighter shot out into the distance and disappeared.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes:
Kinda took me a while, being that the Macross Plus world is very hard for me to write about, but I did manage to work with what I had and came up with this.
http://www.steelfalcon.com/macrossmecha.html is a site were you can find references on Mecha in this chapter.
Like I said, it took a while but with my knowledge of the next world, everything will come into place.
C+C & Flames: hibiki54@earthlink.net
Converting /tmp/phppcoqyQ to /dev/stdout
The arrival of the Shadow Fox was a big surprise for the crew. Ranma was quickly taken out leaving Bud to the task of dispatching the mechanized zoid. It wasn't an easy fight; Bud nearly losing himself when the Fox-Zoid made smoke appear. It wasn't until a few inside-jokes that made the two stop and realize just whom they were fighting. Van suddenly appeared and nearly killed the Shadow Fox pilot, Lawrence, an old friend of Bud and Montel's from their world. Van got stomped out while Bud had to take out the organiod Zeke with an F-5; a fight that left Buddy the winner but almost hospitalized. After some Q&A, Naomi Fluegal ask the once important question:
"Just where did you guys come from?!"
Blended Demensions
By Bud
Chapter 7: The Beginning
Monday. No one really enjoyed Monday's that much. It was a truly hated day of the week. Any week for that matter.
Monday's signified the beginning of another long week of crap that most people have to suffer via their extremely stupid bosses that don't know the difference between a pencil and a pen. It was a day were adults had to get up in the morning, leaving their comfy bed and significant other and get ready to go to the job that they hate the most. Monday's also signalled the beginning of another week of suffering for the 18 and under group, getting up to go to school. Monday's also happened to be the worst day to be on an interstate high-way between the hours of 7am and 11am.
That was just were Buddy happened to be at the moment, stuck in his Freightliner Century Class tractor-trailer hauling some sort of material for the goverment in an air-tight 58' container trailer. Like everyone, his patients was getting very thin due to the slow moving traffic around him. Having to shift up and down constantly was a very difficult task, especially since he uses a 13-speed transmission.
He pulled on his main-horn, startling a few commuters around him with the extremely loud sound, trying to get the asshole in the Ford P.O.S. in front of him to move the fuck out of his way. Damn bitches.
Suffering thru the torment of that free-way, he headed towards his home-town of Gardena, Ca, just a couple of miles from the freeway exit. Bud was a very tired man, and wanted to actually sleep at home instead of his bunk in the cab of his truck since he was in the area.
Making a right turn, he stopped at his house, just in time for dinner and a peaceful sleep.
RING-RING! RING-RING!
"Helloow?" Bud answered the phone, sleep still in his voice. A friendly voice replied to him.
"Yo Dawg. 'This Montel. Dude, wassup?"
Buddy cleared his throat and yawned, getting some of the sleep out of him. "Shit man.. I'm tired, but I gotta deliever this shit for the goverment to New Mexico dawg. 'Dis some bullshit. Least I'm gettin' paid. Ya'llm sayin' cuz?"
"Yeah, I feel ya. Oh man. Dude. Hey, when you gonna take me with ya' cuz?"
"You know what," Bud say thoughtfully. "I'mma take yo' ass with me. I'll stop by yer house, k? Okay."
"Fo' sho'?" Montel seemed exstatic. "'aight dawg. I'll see ya'"
"I'mma holla' when I get there."
"'Aight."
Bud paused. "Imagine?"
VRROOOOMmmm..! clunk... VRRROoooMMM!! clunk.. VRROOOOMMM!!!... clunk... VRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOoommmm...!! Clunk... Vrrrrrrrrooooommmmmm----
Bud sat back in the driver seat of his truck after merging onto a clear road-way in the vast desert area of Arizona, USA. It's currently night time and raining softly outside of the truck and he just woke up to continue on his route, waking Montel up in the process. The life of a trucker is froth with peril, Buddy always says, copying the martial arts quote from his favorite anime.
Anime. That's just what Buddy would like to be watching right now instead of hauling material for the goverment. But why should he complain? He get's enough money per day to buy as much anime as he wants!
"'Ey dawg, we der yet?" Montel asked, sitting in the passanger seat with his feet up on the dash board keeping himself busy with his GBA, or GameBoy Advanced. Bud was getting slightly annoyed hearing all the Kame-Hame-Ha's and Special Beam Cannon voices from that crappy game Montel just loves to play.
"Nah man. It's like a few hundred more miles dawg.." Bud looked where Montel's feet was located. "An' niggah get yo feet away from those pressure valves! It'll be fucked up to know that your bitch ass hit my parking and trailer air brakes and my fucking shit jack-knifed and went off the road. Then I'll be fucked up. THEN I'll fuck YOU up." He looked Montel up and down. "Fuckin' niggah."
"I hear ya.. sheeeait." The young black man grumbled.
THUK-THUK!!! Psssshhhhhhhhhiiii....
Buddy screamed in fear as the truck's parking and emergency brakes suddenly came on and locked the wheels. The road was slippery from the rain-storm and the truck kept moving forward, sliding on the slick asvault roadway because of the 70 ton trailer. The connection between the trailer and truck began to angle, turning the deadly slide into a jack-knife that left the two men in a life and death situation.
With the quickness of which is him, Buddy slammed his hands down on the valves, applying air to the brakes. Turning the wheel towards the way the truck was sliding, he revved up the huge desiel engine then dropped the clutch into the lowest gear. The twin-tandem back axles spinned out on the wet road until the tires finally got traction.
"You bitch!" Bud growled, trying to control the wild swinging trailer, turning the wheel roughly as the 53ft goverment trailer swung itself. His eyes widened as they passed a section of the road that was at least 15ft higher than the actual ground.
Buddy: "...."
Montel: "...."
The trailer swung off the road, and with nothing under it to support the wheels it fell off, pulling the truck and the two young men with it.
The rain turned the dirt of the Arizona plains into a thick, cake-like mud that could trap anything heavy in it's soft, drenched consistency.
Montel flew back, sliding along the dark, wet soil, holding his cheek. That was the hardest he's been hit. Ever.
"You fucking asshole!" Bud screamed in rage. Waving his first in slight irritation. "I told your dumb ass to keep your feet away from the fucking brake valves and look what you fucking did! Now I might be out of the job, fined and have to get a new truck!" Bud looked over his shoulder. "My fucking truck!!!"
Buddy feel to his knees, sobbing to himself. In front of him was the remains of what use to be his lovely mode of transportation and his money maker. The beautiful forest green commercial semi-truck was nothing but a pile a scrape, crushed by the extreme weight of the trailer it was pulling, burned to a cinder after the low-flammable desiel fuel actually caught fire, completely desimating Bud's home away from home.
Only the trailer was left somewhat unscathed, and completely intact.
Montel, doing the wise thing and leaving his friend to be by himself, decided to investigate the goverment container. Approaching the back doors he used a pair of tin-snips, a type of scissor used to cut sheet metal, to cut away a the thin strip used to keep the door latched. He kicked at the door latch, nearly slipping due to the mud. With his wet hands, he pried open the door and stepped in. What was important right now was to make some shelter and get food. Knowing us, we need alot of food, he thought.
Expecting to find some sort of top secret food source like that replicator shit in StarTrek, instead he found a massive machine that seemed more hi-tech than that most advanced systems he has seen in his life-time.
The machine was in a word, gigantic. Nearly taking up most of the container, leaving just enough space for a large computer nerd to gain access to the control panel of - whatever it was. Montel assessed that the piece of hardware before him was not that usual goverment top secret item that you would read in the tabloids.
This was legit Area-51 shit.
"Dawg!" Bud looked up to see Montel motioning him over to the container. He finally stopped his crying a few moments ago, getting himself together. It wasn't really the fact that his black-homie fucked shit up, it was because he didn't show him the this-N-that of his truck before they took off.
"Dude! You gotta see this shit!"
"Aight cuz! Damn. Stop bein' a little kid, ya cocksucker." Quickly looking inside the trailer, his jaw dropped. "What. The...." Inside, the gigantic machine was something he wouldn't NEVER of suspected that would be in the last place he could think of. "...fuck."
Buddy's mind processed the item as one thing, and the only thing that was plausiable to his shocked mind. "Ey cuz?"
"What'up?" Montel replied.
"Ya'll know what that is?"
"Nah." Montel shrugged. He smacked Bud upside the head and whispered as if trying to keep it a secret. "Niggah I wouldn't of ASKED you ta come over if I DIDN'T KNOW....!"
"Fuck you asshole!" Bud hit Montel with a right hook.
The black man smacked Buddy with a back-hand. "Bitch!"
Bud punched Montel repeatedly until he was dazed silly before stepping back and holding his hand out. Spitting into his open palm, her swung with that arm, rocking Montel back making him hit his head on the trailer door. "Jabroni!"
Bud taunted, hopping back and doing a cocking motion with his arm. He kicked forward with a leg, taunting like The Rock. "ACK!" He slipped back and knocked himself out on a rock.
"Alright." Bud said finally. Both him and Montel were checking out the strange mechanism that the black man discovered in the trailer. So far, the console on one side of the machine seemed to be in their language (english) and displayed large amounts of information that Bud could barely understand. Montel just watched, science and computers not being his forte. "Check this yo; This here seems to have come from exactly..." The large asian man looked closely, skimming his finger on a line of calculations. ".. 2000m above sea level at coordinates-- umm... 22 degrees Latitude, 150 degress Longitude." Bud slowly turned his head, reading the last few words. "Macross Island."
"Huh?" Montel looked sort of confused by all that. "Macross Island? Ain't that from that Robotech anime that you like?"
"Yes, but that's just the ---... DUDE!" Bud stood up suddenly slamming his fist onto the console. He missed the message and count-down starting at 60 seconds. "This is the Fold system from Robotech dawg. This is what happened to it. Oh my god, shit, cuz I'm the luckiest niggah in the world."
"So what you're saying is that this is some warp drive?"
Bud shook his head. "Nah man, this is a Fold drive. It's used to fold one point of space to another. It's kinda like instant transmission from DBZ."
Montel glanced at the screen. It said 20 seconds, and counting down. "Shit! Let's get out! I think it's gonna blow!" He boned-out quick. Bud followed him, but he was kinda slow since he was on the side of the Fold drive. By the time he exited the trailer, he didn't have enough time to scream as a intense bright light engulfed him, Montel and everything else in a 1 mile radius.
On that day, Montel Wysinger and Bud Arnold was declared missing.
The stench was horriable, hitting his nose as if getting smashed by a 300lbs line-backer on pendecyline. The highly annoying and torturous drops of water, falling from a leaking pipe only to puddle in a secluded section, echoing off the walls into the ears of many. He was the only one to stur, though, being his first time in this room.
He slowly opened his eyes, knowing that if there was a bright light it would immediately blind him and cause a major head-ache. He didn't need that now.
Once his occulii were able to focus, he blinked. Expecting some dank, musty old room secured by bars and concrete, he was surprised to be greeted with the site of a technologically advanced, dank, musty room. Yet, instead of the iron bars and concrete walls, there was some sort of transparent field consisting of one 'wall' and a type of steel paneling surrounding the glowing field.
Looking around, he noticed a couple occupants dressed in a fashion that reminded him of hard-core punk rockers from the 70's and 80's. Dark, multi-colored hair. Chains, collars with spikes. Leather. Strange piercings he would rather not mention, and all sorts of other attire. It kinda freaked him out actually.
A loud, distant scream pierced the silence causing him to whip his head around. It sounded like a man in extreme agony followed by something, or someone being slammed.
Strange how the other occupants didn't pay attention to it.
He stood, adjusting his pants, which he was happy he still had on, and walked over to the field to investigate what it was and find the source of the cry. He moves his hand to touch the field and---
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He stop centimeters from the field, turning his head to look at one of the punks, sitting down on his ass in the far, dark corner of the room. The punk looked pale, yet did not seem sick as she spoke again. "You touch that and you'll be thrown back and stunned. Not that I care, but your hand would be in severe pain also. It effects your nervous system. Basically, it fucks you up man." he finished with a toothy grin.
He shrugged, deciding to follow along. "Ey, whatever." He jumped, hearing the air piercing scream again, this time louder than before. The lights, or light on the ceiling dimmed for a bit before becoming it's normal luminescent glow, which wasn't that impressive. "What the fuck was that...?!" he said.
"Just someone getting totured. Yo' ass 'ill get use ta it." He waves his hand in a jesture that pointed everyone else out. "Jus like evereyone else, you get use to it. It's a daily, and sumtimes nightly thing. Though some of theze fags like the nightly ones."
"Ewww..." he thought.
The man stood up, dusting his ass off of dust and .. whatever. Though he looked like a punk, he was more casually dressed in slacks and a black tee-shirt. Surprisingly, he had on a pair of glasses and some sort of technologically advanced watch adorned his wrist. "I'm Chibodee Crockett. What's yers kid?"
Kid?! "My name is Montel," the black man said. "And I aint no kid, cuz!"
"Whoa, back off tiger. Just how I talk, ya know?" Chibodee put his hands up, and waved the black man off, taking a step back. "Besides, all of us here are friends whether we like it or not. We gotta stick together or we'll never get outta here."
"Shut up Crockett!" one of the 'sleeping' punks whispered.
Montel shrugged at sat back down on the cot he woke up on. This was just great! He doesn't know anything of where he's at except that he's in some sorta holding facility. To top that, he doesn't know where his homie Buddy is at and he's in a room full of white punk-rockers and a nerd. What's next?
"So how you get locked up here in the pokiey with us Reds?" Chibodee asked, sitting down next to Montel yet keeping the standard 2ft distance that was required between strange men. "I mean, it's strange 'cause this is the high-security cell."
Montel sighed. "I don't know..."
Chibodee pulled out a tooth-pick from a pocket and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on an end. "Wha..? You gotta of done something---Hmm?" Another scream, this one sounding as if the person was screaming for someone to help him, yet not able to recieve that help. "Damn, that's taking longer than they usually do. It's already been 2 days and they haven't stopped torturing the guy for info---ack!"
Montel, grabbing the casually dressed punk, lifted him up and pinned him against the back-wall. "WHO are they doin' that too?!" He looked ready to kill. His eyes were watering and he started to breathe faster, not wanting to hear what he thought.
"I-I-I d-don't know!" Chibodee stuttered out. "It was some guy that they had with you, but they threw you in here and dragged him off. He looked Japanese, or chinese, or some asian race in the ocean." He gasped for breath when Montel's hands eased up.
Buddy! Montel was hoping that his friend was okay. Of course he could survive without his pal, but it just wouldn't be the same. Plus, he still owed the guy $20.
"I do know why they picked him instead of you." Chibodee inquiried. "Ya wanna know?"
"Why did they pick him instead of me?!"
Chibodee leaned in close and whispered. "Well, it's--"
"Yeah, did you see the new proto-type man? It's sweet." Guard A zipped up his zipper after tucking his dick back in his pants. He walked away from the wall, the toilet flushing on it's own.
Another man was at a sink, looking into the mirror as he combed his hair. "Yeah, I here that the test-pilot died suddenly and their looking for a new one. Sucks."
"IT'S CAUSE YOUR BLACK!!" was suddenly shouted, shocking the men, followed by a sounding bitch-slap and something hitting a wall. Out of nowhere, the ever-present tortured cry echo'ed into their ears.
"Damn, their fucking that guy up."
"Yeah, and their trying to convince him he's a black guy."
"He probably is. He has a big dick." The man swooned, then was violently bitch-slapped by the guard.
"Shut up fag."
"Ow...."
Another day pasted and Montel was beginning to get seriously worried about his large asian friend. The screams of agony stopped around 4 hours ago, and there were no other sounds except for the snoring and jibber-jabebr of th morons that he just had to be caged with. From what he gained from Chibodee, is that he was locked up in some high-security military base operated by the UN Spacy. He tried remembering where he heard that name before, but put it aside for the moment.
The sounds of approaching guards alerted him, and he took up the casual appearence of some thug hanging out by the liquor store on the corner.
He suddenly lost his composure at the sight that greeted him.
"BUDDY!"
Montel rushed to the door and was suddenly put at gunpoint by a pair of futuristing rifles ressembling AK-47's without clips. He took a couple steps back, looking as if he was a thug, pulling his pants up slightly and making it look like his arms were bigger than they were. "Niggah, ya'll best recodnize fo I bust yer grip... bitch."
"Ahh cuz!" Montel jumped up, hopping over the shot aimed at his feet. "Niggah you crazy er sumthin?!"
"Step back scum." The guard explaimed as his partners threw Bud into the cell unceremonially. Re-activating the screen, then turned and walked away, chuckling between each other. Montel moved over to Bud quickly to check him out, along with some of the other cellmates.
"Oh damn...." Montel nearly lost his lunch, literally. Buddy's body was a complete mess. Clothed in only a pair of boxer-briefs, it left his whole body exposed to all the could see.
Scars and opened wounds covered Bud's light brown skin destroying what once was piece of art sculped by years of hard work, sports and working out. His arms looked like someone took an egg knife and diced his skin, leaving small, tiny cross marks from shoulder to wrist. A burn mark was left along both of his wrist, stopping the blood from leaving his body. Huge raw welts lined his body from head to toe, probably caused by a whip someone pointed out.
The worse ones were the huge, along black scars lining his back and chest that looked very fresh. They actually dug a few millimeters into the skin and formed into curved crosses or X's. Several cuts were on his face, one of which ran from the top of his forehead down across his left eye running down the cheek to stop at the edge of his chin. That and the huge array of bruises and more welts lined the huge asian mans body.
Chibodee stepped up and pushes some of the lookers away. Kneeling next to Bud, he set down a first-aid kit and began doing his work. "Give me an hour or so. I need to treat the guy and bandage him. He'll live, it's just his mind and his body that will be probably fucked up. But all in all, his wounds will heal though he'll have bad skin for the rest of his life."
Montel slapped him upside the head. "Bad joke, just get to it."
It was hours before Buddy finally came too. The first thing he felt was pain. It laced all over his body like electricity running thru an array of wires. He felt like shit. Like someone took a jack-hammer and went wild on him. His skin felt like someone was taking an red-hot iron rod and was burning him.
As a matter of fact, someone was.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" he screamed as he sat up, huffing and puffing with wide-eyes.
"GaAH!" Chibodee dropped the rod in surprise, making a loud clattering sound. He crawled back a little from his awakened and seemingly upset patient.
Bud growled ferally, like wolf ready to pounce. But he kept himself in check after noticing the medical supplies on a small tray. He decided to let the guy have the better of the doubt. "How long has it been?" he asked slowly, placing his hand on his head to try and stop the pounding in his mind.
"Three to four days since you first came in, kid."
Buddy let out a deep sigh and slowly go to his feet, though a big ruggishly as he was still feeling the effects of his torment. He took his time to reach a nearby sink, shrugging off some help from one of the other prisoners. He didn't have a particular like for their kind, even if he was a nice guy. Damn fags.
"What about the guy that I came in with?"
Chibodee regained his composure after staring at the largish man. "Took him to another cell."
"Good." The prisoner/medic looked confused.
"How is that good? He's your friend, right?"
Buddy coughed, then heaved suddenly until a small round object, the size of a marble dropped into the sink with a metallic clank. Picking the round item in his hand, he immediately vomited, spilling --whatever is was-- into the lavatory. There was another clank, so he searched in the indigestive waste, feeling around. As sickening as it was he picked out another small object, this time oval in appearance and had a small screen on it.
"This is will work perfect." Again, Chibodee had to back away from Buddy as the guy began to laugh manically.
Around a day later...
"Get in there you piece of shit!"
"Fuck you ya slob!" Bud sat up from his metallica cot and watched as Montel was thrown into the brig along with his clothes. "Niggah, ya'll lucky you got them guns!"
Their reply was a 'friendly' finger jesture. "Kiss my ass darky."
"Damn coons." The dark-skinned man quickly put on his clothes before he was accosted by one of the fruity-looking punks before looking at his homie. "You aight dawg?" Bud shrugged.
"I've been better, but I'm cool for now." He sat up completely and swung his legs around so his feet touched the floor. "So what they asked you?"
"Just some bullshit. Where I'm from? Who am I? What do I know? Sheat like that." Bud nodded and leaned his head back. He motioned Montel to sit next to him, which he did.
"Check this man," he began in a whisper. "I know what's up right now and where we at." This got Montel's attention.
"Remember that one anime I love; Macross Plus?" He nodded. "Well, I think that fold drive bended space and some how, instead of transporting from point to point, it took us to some alternate demension and time. We're like 50 years into the future man."
"Damn. Shit, that's trippy." Montel glared at one of the punks, a look that ment to get back or get fucked up. "So we're like what, in an anime?" Bud growled, looking away.
"Does it look like I'm in an anime? Look at me bro, look at what they did to me and how I am now." Bud cracked his knuckles. "This is real life and our lives are at steak."
Montel sighed and rubbed his chin. "So what we fin' ta do?"
"I guess we're gonna have to bust out in a couple days." He pulled out a handful of small deviced, all the size of marbles and some looked like long cycliners around 2inches long and 3/4in thick. "I've managed to pick-pocket some of the soldiers during some scuffles since you been out and hid them." He noticed the look on his face. "Don't ask, just shut up okay?!"
Montel tried not to laugh. "You mean you--"
"Shut up!"
The couple days changed to a couple weeks. Bud heard from some of the 'veteran' prisoners that on a certain day of the month, the facility man-power was greatly reduced. Problem was, though the number of guards were less, the remaining were considered the best of the best of THE best. Meaning that they were special forces type soldiers placed on garrison.
It was a risk, but what's life without chances.
Bud and Montel began working on their plan. Bud's quick hands secured them a miniature PDA that just happened to have the scematics of the whole base, including the air-field and hangars which were 1 mile away.
The plan was perfect. Over the pass few days, Bud had managed to acquistion a few of those flash-bang and frag grenades from guards during prisoner brawls; most of them started by Montel as a destraction. They never knew they were missing. They would use this ordinace until that could acquire more useful weaponry from dead guards. Next, hijack a mode of transportation and get the fuck on out.
Hopefully, they wouldn't send Valkyrie squads after them.
One that certain day...
"You ready dawg?" Bud whispered.
Montel nodded. "Yeah, let's do this." He walked over to the force-field and looked at the guard. Instead of a male, he discovered that the person was a female. He didn't have to be a military man to know that this girl could probably kill him if she wanted to. He turned to Bud and winked, giving him a signal that he'll try something else.
"Damn girl," Montel said, leaning up against the inside of the arch-way, just inches from the field. "You look a little tense."
The guard looked at him funny, then replied. "First time on the job."
"Oh yeah?" She nodded. "How long you been in?"
"Around 5 years. Just transfered here after I completed Valk-training. Got tried of it."
Montel had no idea what she just said, but played along. "That's coo." He crosses his arms. "Damn, it's been a while since I've seen a girl as hot as you. If I could, I would do you right here and now if I had the chance."
She narrowed her eyes, then another female guard came into view. "The prisoner bothering you, Private?"
"No ma;am, just attempting to tempt me with offers of indesency."
The 2nd female, obviously an officer, smirked looking Montel up and down. "When was the last time you had some, Private?"
The girl looked down in embarrassment. "Before basic."
"Damn girl," Montel said. "Yo ass needs some hot lovin'!"
"From you? I doubt that. You probably have a little dick." This came from the officer.
Montel got a bit upset. "Little dick?! Bitch... " He unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Now what we have right here is a fine speciment of an Alabama Black Snake otherwise known in California as--" He smirked. "--ANACONDAAAHH!!" "Now if this is little to you, then you must be so loose Osama Bin Laden could use your cunt as a hide-out."
He got the reaction he wanted. The first girl started to salivate, staring at his limp dick. She even sat down her rifle, unable to stop herself from touching her own body thru her BDU's. He was enjoying this alot.
"Alright stud," The officer aimed her rifle at the doorway and turned off the force-field. "Step out and give the girl some 'hot-lovin'."
"Right here?" He asked, stepping out while tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up.
"Nah, in there with all the fags, Yes right here." She smirked. "I wanna watch."
"Damn, you a freak." He paused. "Oh yeah. I ALMOST fer-got. Catch." He tossed her a small silver marble and jumped out of the way. The officers first instinct was the catch the item, but it was too late to realize her mistake. Just as Montel hit the floor and face down covering his face, the ball exploded in a bright, blinding light. Both women screamed in extreme pain as their eyes were blinded by the intense flash of artificial light, forcing them to drop their weapons and protect themselves.
Like a wolf, Buddy rushed in as fast as he could during the commotion. Diving and rolling forward, he snatched the dropped rifle and squeezed the trigger twice, borring one hole into each of the girls foreheads.
Montel stood and dusted himself off. He caught the pistol tossed to him and cocked it back instinctively. And it worked. "So what now?"
Buddy twisted one of the metallica cylinders and threw it down the hall. Just as a group of guards, male and female turned the corner, their screams were muffled by the explosion that engulfed them. "We run like the police after us."
"Sounds good to me."
The duo quickly ran down corridors as fast as they could dodging the occassional guard that passed by. Montel made an off-handed comment about all this reminding him of Metal Gear Solid, and it took Bud all he had to NOT slap his partner. Sirens were blairing as they turned a corner, running into one of the elite UN Spacy guards that were stationed in this facility.
"Halt!" The guard shouted, a strange exclamation point appearing over his head.
Buddy charged him, growling out in a war cry. His legs pumped quickly forcing his large frame to move faster than one would not expected someone of his size to achieve. "Move bitch!" He shouted, jumping up as he neared the guard, turning and lifting his leg smashing the soldier's jaw in with his knee, knocking him down and out.
Without missing a step, Bud turned his stolen rifle at the downed man and placed two clean shots in his legs, immobilizing him. Montel quickly removing the guard of his fire-arm and followed Bud around the corner.
BOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A section of wall suddenly exploded outward killing few soldiers and injuring many. Smoke poured out of the hole just as a military truck jumped out, turning and speeding out towards the west. Five more vehicles followed filled with soldiers returning fire.
"AhhhH!!!" Bud jerked the wheel, pushing his foot harder on the accelerator just as deadly beams of energy danced across an archway which acted as a gate. "Phew...Ey, they still behind us dawg?"
"Niggah! What you think?!" Montel said sarcastically returning fire at the guard-towers. "Where the fuck are we going anyway?!"
Bud made a quick turn onto a paved road. "There's an air-base 20miles down this road and a city 10miles the otherway." The large asian man smirked. "They'll think we went to the city, being that it's more larger than the air-base."
"What if these niggahs find us?" Buddy just help up a black box.
"Not if this is on us."
"Buddy?"
"Sup foo?"
"Is robots suppose to be following us?"
"WHAT?!"
Just behind them in the distance a group of three Valkyrie fighters in gerwalk mode followed them. They slowly approached staying at an exact distance of 500m with their large gatling rifles trained on their stolen truck.
Bud growled. "Fucking assholes." Montel smacked him upside his head.
"I told yo ass."
"Niggie, you didn't tell me shit." Bud checked his mirrors. "They don't seem to be doing anything but following anyway. I wonder why?" he chuckled.
"Yeah, I wonder why?" Montel said, pointing his weapon at the head of the tied and gagged soldier he just happened to be sitting on.
The sun slowly setted to the west as the moon took it's place, it's luminenscence bringing an eerie light to the dark highway. Up in the distance, then flashing beacons of towers could be seen. Red, white and blue. All three used as indicators for winged craft to land on a strip off tarmac.
The sounds of mecha were all around ranging from veritechs to the thunderous pounding of destroids. Spot-lights that could blind a normal man if looked directly into zeroed into the speeding truck and followed it as it sped on it's course into the base. The mecha pilots did not dare open fire, as their own comrad was taken capture by the two prison escapee's.
"Get the fuck in there!" Montel threw their hostage into a door that Bud successfully kicked down. He ducked in quickly and shut the door as the following light homed in on him. "So what now B?"
Buddy walked over to the UN Spacy soldier--- No, pilot, he corrected and pulled his head up to see his face. "What's yer----What the fuck?!" The pilot glared at Bud.
"What?" Montel asked. Bud just stared at the guy.
"I know you..." He said slowly. "Yer Isamu Dyson. Damn," he shook his head and turned away. "I can't believe it. We just kidnapped one of the best fighter jocks in the world."
"I see I'm even known by renegade Zentradi." Dyson spat, though he had this cocky smirk on his face. Bud frowned but didn't reply to the comment.
"You know what this hangar is for, Dyson?" Bud watched his eyes. He didn't get an answer.
Montel smacked the tied up pilot upside the head. "Hey asked ya' a question."
Isamu looked un-certain, his eyes roving from left to right ocassionally. "Just a place where we store junked material."
"I thought so." Bud said non-challantly. "You watch him for a second Montel," Bud looked down at his current state of dress, which wasn't really much. "I need some gear."
The building they hid-out in was one of the larger hangars on the base. It was a stereo-typical half-cylinder structure, yet it was seemingly made up of a combination of concrete walls and a type of metallic alloy used as a roof. Attached to the west-side of the hangar, and the current location of the men, is what would be a locker room.
The locker room had the typical showers and head, and the changing room filled with large electronic lockers. This place was probably were several fighter pilots would change gear and play grap ass if they were a bunch of fruit-cakes.
"Attention escapee's," A booming voice sounded on a loud-speaker from the outside. "This is UN Spacy Military Police. And we demand that you return the hostage to us and surrender peacefully or we would be forced to use extreme measures in your apprehension."
Montel cursed and dragged the pilot to a window, making sure his head isn't visiable. "Niggah fuck you pig! Yo' ass ain't gunna do shit! You try anythin' and I'll blow dis niggah's head off, ya heard!"
The black man growled and dragged Isamu Dyson over to one of the pillars in the center of the room. Slamming the young pilot against the metallic support, he quickly untied then retied his bindings so he would be held against the pole in a sitting position. He turned to look at the stall his friend walked into. "You heard that dawg?"
"Yeah." The door to the stall opened and Buddy stepped out. Montel's eyes widened at what he saw.
Bud was dressed in an UN Spacy flight suit that seemed to fit him perfectly. It wasn't the standard pilots suit that one would guess. It had a different color scheme, possiably customized by the original owner. The main body of the suit was a sleek black with the stripe colored in a cherry red. The shoulder pads of the suit was colored in the standard highlight of yellow which usually stood out in the dark. Adorning the chest was the standard oxygen supply unit for combat in a vaccuum. Finally, in Buddy's left hand he held a black flight helmet trimmed with red and yellow with a decal of the UN Spacy on either side.
Bud blinked at his black partners gawking stare. "What? My zipper down?"
Montel picked himself up off the floor. "Anyways, did you hear that shit dawg?"
"Wha..? Oh you mean that niggah outside? Fuck that shit." He tossed the tall black man a large duffle bag. "Plant that shit inside the hangar. I'll take care of the MP's."
"Aight."
"Well Dyson," Bud stood by the window, smirking at the hot shot pilot. "Looks like you're in a tuff one, eh? How you gonna get out of this one?"
Isamu kept his mouth shut and looked away. It wasn't like he didn't want to look at the guy in the eyes. The scars just made him sick just looking at them. "Kiss my ass."
"I would but I probably won't like the taste." Bud deadpanned before turning his head to the window. "No deal coppers! And if that infiltration team tries anything, I got around 20 Class 12 Reflex mines planted all around the hangar. That's enough explosive power to destroy this whole base and some. I doubt you wanna piss me off ya jerks."
"We do not have to comply with terrorist like yourselves. But if you surrender, you shall be granted a fair trial." The MP representative replied. "Release the hostage and surrender and you will be treated fairly."
"Treated fairly?!" Bud cried in anger. "Just like those assholes treated me fairly when they tortured me for THREE DAYS?!!! THREE FUCKING DAYS?!! You know how much that shit hurt?!" He pulled the last miniature explosive he saved from the prison break and thru it out the window in a random direction. The screams of pain were music to his ears making him smile.
"Why the fuck you do that ya psycho?"
"Shut up Dyson. If you weren't my hero I would kill you right now." Bud said in a low voice.
"What?"
Bud turned his head away and spoke in a low voice. "Where I come from, I always dreamed of flying. To be like an eagle. Feel the air under my wings and soar freely." He sat down and closed his eyes. "I wanted to be a pilot so I tried joining the military."
"And?"
"And nothing. The morons said I was too heavy to join up, yet I passed all their exams and physical test. My weight was the main factor." The young asian let out a heavy sigh. "They didn't know what they were missing. I could fly so close to the ground you would think I was on wheels. I could pull G's that would cripple or kill others. But they still didn't take me. Damn bitches."
"So were do I come into play?" Isamu asked. "You're almost as old as I am."
"Ha! You're right." Bud chuckled. "Would you believe that where I come from, yer punk ass is just some cartoon character?"
"What?"
"Imagine?"
"Damn it's dark in here..."
Montel just stepped thru the double-doorway leading to the largest section of the complex, the main hangar. His eyes could not focus on anything in the pitch blackness of the huge air-craft bay. Only the hollow light comming from the entry-way behind him giving the dark skinned fellow any type of luminescence for him to see. Using some common sense, her moves over to the left side of the door, her felt around the wall area for a switch.
"Ah ha."
Now that there was some light, he looked in the large forest green duffle bag. He counted 20 of the mines Buddy was talking about so he prepared himself to set them up. He pulled one out and looked at it. The Class 12 Reflex Mine looked to be the size of a 6inch Subway sandwich with a small 2x3inch box on one side with two blue buttons and one red and a smal retractable antenna on the side. Montel shrugged at the look of the item and began to set the first one down in front of him.
"Hold up." He paused. "How so I set dis' shut up? Damn. Cuz. Fuck. Hold up... Hoooold up."
He stuck his head out of the door and watch as Bud screamed some curse at the military police outside. "Eh' cuz!"
Bud swung around and said, "What?!"
Montel scratched his head and held up the mine. "How you set this shit up?"
Bud looked a him for a second, then looked out the window. Looked at Montel, then window. Glanced at the black man, then window but kept his eyes on him. "Eh cuz.. Hold up a sec'."
"Aight," The scarred asian man began. "All yo ass needs to do is, press both of the blue buttons one at a time ONCE, aight? Pull out the antenna, then set it down unless ya'll ready did that see?" He pointed at the red button. "See this? Don't be like the white folk and see what it does when it start glowin', cuz my ass don't wanna be some shiznit on dah all, ya heard."
Isamu sweat dropped.
Montel nodded and walked back. "I back in a minute then."
"Niggah shut yo ass up fo I come out there and break yo punk ass off niggah. WHAT?! My mommy? Niggah yo mamma so fat she got a turkey leg fo a neck bone and grits for cholesterol."
Montel started cracking up laughing before starting his task.
The UN Spacy MP's were getting very frustration with the hard-headedness of the 'terrorist', and Buddy could tell. They could not do anything since any sort of rescue mission would result in retaliation of either the execution of the UN Spacy hostage Lt. Isamu Dyson, or destruction of the base via Class 12 Reflex mines. The destructive yeild of 1 mine was approximately 1.5 MT (Mega-Tons). 20 mines could created enough explosive power to reach the huge reflex furance that are housed 1 kilometer underground.
That's enough destructive power to destroy the land in a 50 mile radius, AND send out radiation 100miles farther out.
They really didn't want to take chanced with them.
Bud sat by the window, staring at the ceiling. He was rather bored at this time. Three hours stuck in a locker room with Dyson was NOT something he rather liked. Idol or not.
"You could start a conversation, you know." Bud said off-handedly.
"I would but I'm currently tied up at the moment." he dead-panned.
"Che..." Bud's ears perked up, hearing a distant sound that reminded him of---
"Hey!" He shouted out the window. "You tell those VF-14 Bombers to back off, asshole! I had enough time to modify boards 12B-33 and 13F-34 to the main arming trigger and set it to connect with the electronic fuse of mines. You drop those and this base and everything in a 200 mile radius won't be habitable for the next hundred thousand years!" He heard someone curse and give a command to stop some operation. "Ya bettah had..."
Isamu stared at his captor in astonishment.
The large asian man glared at him. "What?"
"How?"
"How, what?" Isamu glared.
"How did you know those heavy bomber were comming?!" His head whipped to the side sporting a large hand print.
"Shut up," Bud hissed. "Just because I'm not from this time doesn't mean I don't know anything."
Dyson kept quiet. Then suddenly Montel burst in thru the doors.
"Dude! You gotta check this out!" He ducked back into the hangar just as fast as he came in. Buddy just shrugged and followed.
"......"
Montel spoke up. "Dawg, that's exactly what I though!"
"......" Bud just stared ahead.
This is it, Bud thought. In his whole life, he would not of believed it would of happened. This was his dream. This was his destiny. Now, this was his fate.
Before him stood what would be one of the most technologically advanced craft in this current time period and demension. It was designed and built in 2039, last year in this demension, by Shinsei Industries as their entry into Project Super Nova design contest being conducted by United Nation Space Administration (UN Spacy). The projects main purpose was to develop a new variable fighter to replace the aging VF-11 Thunderbolt as the main fighter for UN Space military forces. This fighter was one of two fighters selected for the final competition at New Edwards Flight Center on Planet Eden; the other design was a fighter developed by General Galaxy. This illustrious piece of techological mastery, developed by child genius Yan Newmann of Shinsei Industries, is now slowly replacing the VF-11 as their main fighter.
Before him was his dream. His destiney. His fate.
The proto-type of the VF-19 Excalibur, YF-19 "Alpha One".
"....Oh my." Was all Buddy could say as he gazed at the craft. Not just any craft, HIS craft, he heard in his mind from a voice he did not knew nor cared for.
He slowly traversed around the craft, his eyes roaming over the tan color, the forward-fixed wings, the in-take nacelles for the powerful thermonuclear engines which give the craft enough velocity to escape the Earth's gravity pull and take planetary orbit. He ran around the fighter, looking at all the missle loaded on the hard-points of the wings and on the fuselage.
A couple things did seem odd about the fighter though. The GU-15 external gun pod, it's main weapon, was missing and some strange fast packs were connected to the fighter which he did not recodnize. He would have to ask Dyson later.
"Montel," Bud began. "We have our ticket out of here." he said as he gazed around, noticing all the military ordinace and huge metallic crates labelled YF-19 Replacement Units.
It took Buddy some time but he managed to fully load the futuristic veritech fighter with all that he could possiably need. Being cautious, he read the operations manual that just happened to be in the rear compartment of the cock-pit. After an hour of speed reading, he found out that the fast pack units connected to the leg section of the fighter were used as missle silos that could hold up to 20 of the new Bifor's High-Maneuver Mini-Missles and 1 standard long-range missles or 2 of the new medium range high-maneuver missle.
Further reading also explained that a new main rifle was issued for the proto-type for more advanced testing, which surprised him greatly since the tri-GU-15 was a very effective fire-arm for this era of mecha. There was a serial number on the page that matched the one on the large metal crate he noted earlier.
"Hmm..." There was an electronic lock, he noticed after approaching the cargo. Looking at the book, he punched in a code that was designated on the next page. A loud hiss came from the crate and it's top section opened up like the trunk of a car, also pulling the side panel up with it. "Woah..."
Inside was one huge rifle. Unlike the Howard GU-15, which was a 30mm Tri-barrel gatling rifle housed inside of a rifle-shaped casing, this particular weapon had a design that was made for heavy assault. According to the specifications, this unit was designed with seven 40mm smoothbore barrels, designed for high-velocity fire, secured close together to form a type of vulcan cannon. The housing for the cannon was cylinderic-like which formed the main housing for the cannon barrels, but did not conceil them completely. The barrels of the cannons protruded 2 feet from it's housing, probably do to the fact that the barrels were so massive, they couldn't make a housing that could completely support it.
One thing about the weapon was it's fire-control mechanism was similiar to the GU-15 Gun Pod, so familiarism with the weapon wouldn't take that much time. Another plus was the clips containing the ammunition. Because of the larger caliber of the cannon, the clips were specially designed to be used with the YF-19 and designed to contain 2000 rounds of transuranium slugs intead of the meager 400 round clips. With that came a larger shield to hold 2 of the replacement clips.
This all exceeded the young asian mans expectations of what would be his dream fighter. Power, speed and agility all rolled into one fighting platform.
He was gonna have fun with this.
A few hours later, everything was set for the big escape. It seems that the hangar they were in was a repair bay for Alpha-One to complete final test on Earth. Using special dolly's and cranes Bud was able to full load the fighter with his choice of arsenal.
The Howard GU-15 was replaced with the Three Star XS-15, the 40mm gatling rifle found in the container. Each of the two hard-points on each wing were armed with three MRM-120 Jackhammer missles, a type of missle that would explode after reaching a certain range of the target before breaking off into multiple mini-missles destroying the target and other surrounding mecha.
The two hard-point on the fuselage of the fighter itself were armed with the 1 MRHM or medium range high maneuver missles each. The fast packs connected to the leg section were loading with 20 of the new Bifor's BMM-24 High maneuver mini-missles and 2 of the MRHMMs in each one. The bay in the legs held another 2 MRHMMs.
Two clips for the XS-15 were loaded in the redesigned shield. Completing the arsenal were the Mauler REB-30G anti-aircraft pulse laser and two Mauler REB-23 anti-aircraft laser guns, the main weapons for the plane in fighter mode.
"Phew--! Done!" Buddy exclaimed while wiping his head off with a towel. That was alot of hard work, he though to himself. Everything was finally ready so the two men could get the hell out of there. Now, it was all a matter of evading all the military units outside of the hangar.
"All set Montel." Bud said as he stepped back into the locker. Montel looked pretty upset.
"Niggah, it took you THAT long to get that shit done?!" The large man just shrugged.
"Yeah," He smirked at Isamu, annoying the young Lieutenant. "The YF-19 is a piece of artwork. I had to be delicate when loading that. Did a pretty good job if I don't say so myself."
"What did you do to my baby?!" Dyson growled.
"Shut up." Bud snatched Montel's weapon from his hand. With one motion, he aimed the gun at Isamu Dyson's head and pulled the trigger.
Bud tossed the black man his pistol and walked off. "Let's go dawg. I don't wanna stay here forever."
He couldn't take his eyes off Bud's back. He was surprised that his friend killed their hostage without blinking an eye afterward. He took it that Bud must still be under some trama from this torture. But he wouldn't know.
"Here." Montel caught the package tossed to him.
"What this?"
Bud placed his helmet over his head, locking it onto the flight suit with a press of a button. "That's a space suit. We might go into space to use the fold drive to get home. But we might not making it into orbit, being that their are so many planetary defenses out there."
"I guess..." Montel shrugged and started to dawn the space suit.
"Yeah..."
Outside the hanger building was surrounding by a multitude of UN Spacy destroids, valkyrie fighters and ground troops. Nearly a 48 hours have passed since the prisoners have escaped Fort Johnson and have barricaded themself inside a hangar with a test pilot as a hostage. To top that off, no rescue attemps would be made, seeing as the escapee have jury-rigged 20 Class 12 Reflex mines to explode by remote for from impact. Mine powerful enough to set off a chain reaction in the underground reflex furnace causing immediate melt-down.
So far, UN Spacy military police have been calm about the situation from the begining. But that sense of calm has begun to wear-out rapidly due to this prolonged waiting period.
Currently, talks trying to convince the terrorist have always ended in an exchange of profane words and insults bringing an immediate halt to the proceeding. One of the terrorist continuously attempted to remind them of how the person was tortured in prison; which would obviously be false since that form of interogation has been banned in the UN since 2003. They did run an investigation upon Fort Johnson just to make sure, though.
An explosion rocked the ground and debri began to rain down upon the UN Spacy forces, immediately killing soldiers as large chunks of hyper-carbon and reinforced concrete slam onto their positions. Mecha began to move into position, preparing for danger.
Smoke poured out of the roof of the hangar, filling the evening sky. Out from the new hole came the distinct sound of a fighter taking off, it's powerful jet engine causing the tarmac to rumble deeply. Before anyone could react a beige colored fighter shot up into the sky in gerwalk mode in a VTOL take off before converting to it's fighter mode.
The fighter, YF-19 Alpha-One, hovered in the air for a split second before it's powerful FF-2500E themonuclear reactors ignited. A panel opened up on one of the leg/thruster sections of the jet exposing a cluster of missles. As the fighter, piloted by Buddy and passanger Montel, blasted-off across the evening sky-line and into the horizon, a lone mini-missle ejected from it's silo and slowly dropped a few feet before it ignited and shot into the open roof.
"Yaaahooooooooooo!!! Yeah!" The large asian pilot exclaimed, increasing the throttle of the fighter. A loud rumbled followed by the sound of flowing air signalled the breaking of the sound barrier. An indicator told Bud that his speed increased near 2200mph, or Mach 2.9.
Behind the plane off in the distance a huge mushroom cloud rose high into the sky, filling the darkened atmosphere with an eerie orange-red hue, like the sun setting off in the west.
"Ey' Bud," Montel began as he placed on the helmet for his space suit. "So how we gonna get outta here?"
Bud checked the radar on the HUD. His hands firmly gripped in the side-mounted HOTAS (Hands On Throttle And Stick) and eased the variable fighter onto a new course and heading. Long-range radar picked up blips, both stationary and moving closing in fast. He took his hand off the throttle, easing the stick back making the fighter move into a slow climb.
"I guess we gonna do what happen the first time." Montel looked kinda confused.
"What?" He questioned. "What'chu mean dawg?"
Bud turned to look back, the faint hint of a smirk scene thru the tinted visor. "You'll see." he said just as his hand danced across his control interface.
"Niggah what you----Ahhhhhhhh!!!"
A bubble enveloped the YF-19 and in an impressive light show, the fighter shot out into the distance and disappeared.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes:
Kinda took me a while, being that the Macross Plus world is very hard for me to write about, but I did manage to work with what I had and came up with this.
http://www.steelfalcon.com/macrossmecha.html is a site were you can find references on Mecha in this chapter.
Like I said, it took a while but with my knowledge of the next world, everything will come into place.
C+C & Flames: hibiki54@earthlink.net
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