Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Bratja ( Chapter 3 )

A/N: This had to be the HARDEST chapter I've ever written. Warning; Very emotional. At least it was for me. And yeah, not a lot of “action”, but a lot of tension. No spoilers, either.

 

I also want to give an enthusiastic THANK YOU! To Heist! Poor woman put up with my constant nattering and copy-pasting snippets of this chapter Yahoo all night.

 

Chapters: 3

Word Count, This Chapter: 3274

Word Count Total: 9930

Words Left: 40,070

Moments of Insanity (Dares Used): 4

Number of Mimes Killed: Still just one

Other Deaths: 1 (?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bratja (Brothers)

 

Prosti menya, mladshiy brat! Ya tak pred toboy vinovat. Pyitatsya vernut' nyelzya Togo, chto vzyala zyemlya. Kto znayet zakon Byitiya, Pomog byi mne nayti otvet. Zhestoko oshibsya ya; Ot smerti lekarstva nyet. Milaya mama! Nyezhnaya! Myi tak lyubili tebya. No vse nashi silyi Potrachenyi byili zrya.

 

(trans: Forgive me, younger brother; I am to be blamed; It is impossible to return; that, which has been taken by earth; One that knows the law; would help me find the answer. I made a terrible mistake, there is no cure for death. Dear Mother! So Soft! We loved you so much. But all our powers were spent in vain.) - Ooshima Michiru (Fullmetal Alchemist OST)

 

 

Riker looked around and saw that everyone had gathered into a tight group, with the exception of McKenna, the man holding the gun to her head; and Scar, who was slowly coming around after being hit with Worf's phaser. And Q, who stood in the center of the room, smirking.

 

“Well, now that everyone's here, let's get the party started, shall we?”

 

“What is the meaning of this, Q?” Picard demanded, as he shoved his way to the front of the group.

 

“Dear Captain Picard,” Q said. “How nice of you to join us.”

 

“It's not like we had a choice,” Riker said.

 

Q chuckled. “Ah yes. I suppose that much is true.” He waved a hand expansively, and added. “So have you met the rest of the party, Captain? I'm sure all of you will become very good friends.” His look became intense as he passed his eyes over each person in the room. “You all have so much in common.”

 

“Captain, I take it you are acquainted with this… Q?” Mustang asked. He never took his eyes off of Q for an instant.

 

“Unfortunately,” Picard said. “We've crossed paths more than once, I'm afraid.”

 

Q smirked again, and waved a hand as he strode over toward Scar. “Please, Captain. Explain to the good Colonel who I am, in words that your pathetic human minds can comprehend.” He stopped in the middle of the room, and raised a finger. “Ah. But keep in mind, the Colonel and his… staff, are about 400 years behind you on your little technological scale.”

 

Riker glanced down at the boy. He'd seen what he did with his metal hand a moment ago. There were also the reactions of Mustang's group of people just appearing out of `nowhere' that had him puzzled. It made him wonder if Q was just yanking their chains.

 

Q stood over Scar, patiently waiting for the man to regain all his faculties. When he did, he looked him up and down, and his eyes landed on the silver chain hanging from the pocket of Q's adopted uniform. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he said, “A State Alchemist? I don't know you.”

 

He got to his feet, and Riker saw that arm begin to glow again. “No matter,” Scar said. “I will still send you to meet your maker.”

 

“If you think you can,” Q said.

 

Scar's arm came up, and aimed right for Q's head. Riker heard several guns priming, and saw Mustang raise his hand to snap.

 

Picard said, “Hold your fire!” And confused looks were aimed at him all around.

 

Scar made contact with Q's forehead, and the glow in his arm intensified. But other than a few weak sparks, nothing happened. The Ishballan pulled his hand away, and looked down at it in confusion. Q waved a dismissive hand, and turned back to the rest of the group.

 

Scar yanked up the sleeve of his jacket, then glared at Q. “What did you do to me?”

 

Q casually glanced back over his shoulder, and said. “I've rendered that arm of yours impotent.” He faced the group again, and appeared to take great enjoyment at their confused looks. “Well, I can't have a killer running around threatening my witnesses, now can I?”

 

“'Witnesses'? Haven't you played this game before, Q?” Riker asked.

 

“Hmm. I suppose I have,” he said. Then he grinned. “But I so enjoy it.” He strode over to McKenna, and grasped her by the chin. “And it becomes much more interesting when the stakes are raised. Wouldn't you agree, McKenna?”

 

She hissed and yanked her head away from him. Q only chuckled.

 

“What `crime' is she being charged with?” Picard asked.

 

Q ignored him, and advanced on the man who'd held a gun to McKenna's head. “Jet Black,” he said.

 

The man; Jet, Riker mentally corrected, didn't flinch. He just calmly changed his aim from McKenna to Q. “Yes. Your point?”

 

“Your mother didn't like you much, did she?” Q said.

 

Jet pulled the hammer back.

 

“I doubt that's going to accomplish much,” Mustang said.

 

Jet smiled coldly. “It'll make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

 

Q leaned closer to Jet, and said, “Just like when you lost your arm?”

 

Jet's eyes widened briefly in shock, then just as quickly narrowed, and a canny mask fell across his face. “What about it?”

 

“Your pride got in the way that night didn't it?” Q said. “You ran straight into an ambush without making sure you had back-up. Your hubris cost you an arm, and nearly half your face.”

 

“Is there a point to all this?” Jet asked.

 

“Indeed, there is,” Q said, as he walked away from Jet. He came to a stop in front of Mustang, and smirked again. “Colonel Roy Mustang. A bit young for the rank. But you're quite ambitious, aren't you?”

 

“So I've been told,” Mustang said coolly.

 

“You also know where we are, don't you?” Q asked. “Quite intimately, in fact.” He strolled back to the center of the room. “Have you bothered to inform the rest of the party, Flame Alchemist?”

 

Mustang said nothing. He just held a level stare on Q.

 

“I see that you haven't,” Q continued. He spread his arms wide, and said. “Perhaps if I shed a little light on the subject, it'll jog the memories of your comrades.”

 

Torches appeared on all the walls, illuminating the huge room. And suddenly, it was no longer a burned out hulk of a building, but new, and sparkling. The murals were vivid once more, and the tile shone with fresh polish. The fountain off to one side sprang to life, and the piles of sand all disappeared.

 

Riker saw Mustang stiffen, but his expression never changed. Good man, he thought. Don't give Q the satisfaction.

 

“Blasphemy!” Scar yelled, and launched himself at Q. “You dare use alchemy on our sacred temple?”

 

Q barely glanced over his shoulder, and waved a hand as if flicking away a noisome fly. Scar flew back, and slammed into a wall. He slid down, stunned.

 

Q sighed, and said, “I do so tire of religious fanatics.”

 

Riker heard a small squeak behind him, and spared a glance. The woman who'd arrived with Jet was staring up at Worf, and backing slowly away from him, wide-eyed and pale. A few of the others around were looking a bit intimidated by the Klingon's dour countenance. It was to be expected if the culture had never encountered alien life. But Riker choked back a chuckle at the sight of the tiny redhead staring up at him with wide, wondering eyes. Worf glowered down at her, and bared his teeth, but the child just grinned as if she'd found a new playmate. This should be interesting, he thought.

 

He caught the Klingon's eye, and gestured for him to go watch over Scar. Worf nodded, and took up a new position, hovering over the stunned Ishballan. Scar, to his credit, thought better of attempting to engage the Klingon, and remained sitting on the floor.

 

Riker noted that Worf hadn't released his grip on the boy's lance, either. He silently appreciated the “look” it created, and was certain that it was quite deliberate on his part.

 

“Q, I'm getting tired of your games,” Picard said. “What is it you want of us?”

 

“You humans are always in such a hurry,” Q said. “Always trying to find ways to get somewhere faster. Inventing warp drives—“ He cast a glance at Jet, “Or astral gates.” He turned his attention back to Picard, and said. “It's really not healthy, you know.”

 

Again, he waved a hand with a flourish, and a drink appeared in everyone's hands. “Relax, drink up!” he said. “Get to know each other.” The smile disappeared from his face as though someone wiped it off, and he added, “Because every last one of you is guilty of the same crime.”

 

Riker noticed that the Elric boy was the only one with a glass of milk in his hand an instant before he flung it away like it was acid. It immediately garnered Q's attention.

 

Q tsked, and bent down over the boy. “You'll never get any taller if you don't drink your milk, Fullmetal.”

 

Edward's eyes sparked, and the grinding of his teeth could be heard across the room. His fists clenched, and he started to lunge at Q. “Who are you calling so small—Urk!”

 

The tall, thin man with the unruly head of hair had quickly glommed onto Fullmetal's coat collar, and held him back. “Bad idea, Ed,” he said.

 

Q smiled, and chuckled low. “Your fuse is as short as you are,” he said. He glanced up at the thin man, and said. “You should be grateful that your friend, Spike here, had the forethought to hold you back.”

 

“Lay off him, Q. He's just a kid,” Spike said.

 

Q stepped back, and regarded the boy a moment. Edward was still seething, but wasn't attempting to do anything else. “Is he?” He looked back up at Spike. “I would think he gave up all pretense of childhood when he became a State Alchemist. A `dog of the military'.”

 

Edward lunged at Q again, but Spike's grip on him held firm. The boy pointed up at him, and he growled, “You don't know anything about our situation!”

 

Q cocked a brow, and smirked. “Don't I?” He strode over to the one wearing the suit of armor.

 

The armor took a step back, raising his hands defensively; and a plaintive voice came from it that nearly set Riker back on his heels. “B-brother?”

 

Picard snapped around and looked questioningly at Riker. The First Officer was certain his look was much the same. That was the voice of a small child!

 

“Just don't do anything, Al,” Edward said to the armor. His voice was trembling, whether from fear or fury, Riker couldn't be sure.

 

“Leave him alone, Q,” Edward said as he jerked himself free of Spike's grip, and stepped forward. He clapped his hands, and slid one hand over the other. Blue light glowed around the area, and his metal arm turned into the short sword. “You can deal with me.”

 

“Indeed,” Q said. “Protect your little brother, Fullmetal. Isn't that your responsibility? Your… burden?”

 

“Leave him out of this!” Edward yelled, and lunged for Q.

 

“Fullmetal, stand down!” Mustang snapped, and Edward froze, but his whole body vibrated from the effort.

 

“Yes. Follow orders like a good dog, Fullmetal,” Q said. “Because as long as you follow orders, you can assuage your guilt. Do you really think being a State Alchemist will get you what you want?” Q advanced on Edward, leaning down and getting in his face. There was no longer any humour in his eyes, but an icy intensity. “Do you really think that finding the Philosopher's Stone will absolve you of your crime?”

 

Edward flinched, and Q straightened back up. He pointed at Al, and said, “Do you really believe that anchoring your bother's soul to that suit of armor was the humane thing to do?”

 

The boy's face drained of all colour, and his eyes went wide. He stumbled back a step, and trembled. “Don't.” his voice was barely audible, but it could still be heard clearly in the room full of people holding their breaths. Edward's head dropped, and he slid his hand over the short sword, returning his metal hand back to normal. “Please. Don't hurt my brother,” he whispered.

 

Riker felt like someone just let all the air out of him. What the hell was Q talking about? `Anchoring souls'? The whole scene was rapidly collapsing into some surrealistic nightmare, and he felt a lead weight form in his stomach.

 

“Don't say a word, Fullmetal,” Mustang said. His voice was low, and Riker knew the man was tightly controlling his anger. “Don't give him what he wants.”

 

“No, don't say a word, Fullmetal,” Q spat. “Follow orders, like the puppet you are. Because when you've let yourself be a puppet, you don't feel quite so bad at turning your brother into one, do you?”

 

“That's enough, Q!” Picard snapped. “You have no reason to torture those children.”

 

Q suddenly perked up, and looked almost insulted. “'Torture', Mon Capitan? Hardly.” He crossed back over to Al, and knocked on the chest plate of the armor. The hollow sound echoed through the silent room.

 

“There's no living person in there. He's nothing more than a ghost,” Q said. He smiled warmly at Al, and slid his hand gently over the chest plate. “Wouldn't you call it `torture' to be nothing more than a soul trapped like this? With your body gone? He's not human anymore.”

 

“No!” Al shouted. He took a step forward, pressing his chest firmly against Q's hand, and bringing his fists up. “I am human! I'm not a puppet—“

 

“Al, don't…” Edward whispered.

 

Q's expression turned to stone, as he locked eyes with Al.

 

“—and Brother will get my body back!”

 

The words echoed in the room, and time stopped as the suit of armor exploded into a million tiny shards of metal that seemed to hang in the air indefinitely.

 

The sound of the metal hitting the polished tile resounded like gunshots in the silent room. Then Edward's anguished cry for his brother broke time's hold, and it moved again, as he dashed to the remains, clapping his hands together.

 

But Q was quicker. With a flourish, he waved his hand and all the shards of metal disappeared in a blue flash. Ed stumbled and fell to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Al,” he whispered. “No.”

 

No one moved.

 

Q bent down, and said, “You didn't honestly think I'd let you repeat your crime, did you?”

 

Edward remained on his hands and knees, staring down at the floor. His body shook with anguish and rage. “You son of a bitch,” he hissed. “You murdered my brother.”

 

In a flash of blue and a wordless shout of pure rage, he came up on his knees, and shoved the reformed short sword into Q's abdomen. “Why?” he cried, adding emphasis by shoving the blade in deeper. “Goddamn you! Why?”

 

“Why, indeed,” Picard sad, stepping forward. “You've never been this calloused before Q. Why now? What did those children do to deserve this?”

 

“The Fullmetal Alchemist is hardly a child, Captain Picard,” Q said as he slid himself off the blade. He glanced down at the uniform and made a disgusted noise at the hole in the jacket. But no blood stained the fabric. “He hasn't been from the moment he chose to commit the taboo of human alchemy.”

 

Edward fell back on his heels, and covered his eyes. His sobs rang harshly on the walls and the tile. “But why Al?” he sobbed. “He was innocent.”

 

“If you're going to play at being grown up,” Q said, “then you need to go all the way.” He strode across the room, toward McKenna. “And that means understanding that the innocent suffer for our hubris.”

 

McKenna backed up against the wall. Her eyes went wide, and she trembled. Q leaned in close to her. “Isn't that right, McKenna?”

 

She swallowed, and a single tear ran down her cheek. A slow smile crept across Q's face. She started clearing her throat, and then coughing. It started out dry, but quickly became a wet rattle, and after a long moment, she spat off to the side. The gobbet of red splattered on the tile; stark against the background of pale, polished sandstone.

 

“Why did you bring us here, Q?” Picard asked. “Did you plan to pick us off one by one? Have you grown so jaded with being omnipotent that you've become perverted in your desire to be entertained?”

 

Q faced Picard, and smirked. “Hardly. The boy was an example. And Fullmetal's crime hardly reaches the same level as McKenna's.” He turned back to her, and said. “You've been charged by the Q continuum for the crime of extreme hubris, in the first degree.”

 

“What the hell kind of charge is that?” Jet asked.

 

“About the same as charging humanity as a whole, with being a `grievously savage race',” Picard said, dryly. His eyes never left Q.

 

Q popped out, and reappeared next to Jet, now in an ISSP uniform. He leaned in close, and pointed at McKenna. “You don't like her much, do you?”

 

Jet's eyes narrowed at the uniform. “You already know all the answers, Q.”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

He stepped away from Jet, and faced Mustang from across the room. “You have a personal grudge against her, as well, don't you, Colonel Mustang?”

 

Mustang never said a word. He just remained standing near Edward, watching Q behind a mask of calm. At his feet, Edward was curled into an anguished ball, softly sobbing.

 

Q spun on his heels, and with his hands behind his back, strode over to Scar and Worf. The Klingon brought the lance around, and tapped Q under the chin with the point. Q glanced down, and then back up at Worf. He cocked a brow and said, “You're a slow learner, aren't you, macro-brain?” Then he looked down at Scar and said, “You have even more reason to despise her, don't you, scarred man?”

 

He spun and faced the rest of the room, and announced, “Jet Black. Colonel Roy Mustang. You both have been charged to perform as the `defense' for Brianne McKenna. Commander William Riker, you are charged with the prosecution.”

 

“On what charge, Q?” Riker said. “We need more than just hubris in the first degree, here. No one is innocent of even a small degree of that, and you know it.”

 

“Yes. Lovely, isn't it?” Q's face went stone, and he added. “The answer is right under your noses.”

 

He waved a hand, and the temple became a burned out shell of a building once again. Q strode off, into the shadows. Confused silence followed.

 

An instant later, and he stepped back into the patch of light and said, “I almost forgot to tell you… All three of you had better do your absolute best. Because if I think any one of you is throwing the case, I'll destroy your entire race in all three universes.” He smirked. “You have 48 hours, gentlemen. I advise you to use them wisely.”

 

He waved a hand, and the dark, abandoned building disappeared, to be replaced by the bridge of the Enterprise.