Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Special Agent ( Chapter 14 )

A/N: Special thanks to my favorite writing buddy, Heist. Again she finds lyrics that are perfect. I loves her muchly!

 

Chapters: 14

Word Count, This Chapter: 3029

Word Count Total: 41,131

Words Left: 8869

 

 

 

Special Agent

 

I've seen you in action, so what's the problem now? Get out of your own way, it's time to go all out! Awake in this reality - there's more than one. Just fill your heart with innocence, then discover what your rocket fuel is made of. - Universal Hall Pass (Mercury)

 

Jet was beginning to worry about Faye. She'd gone from being angry, and damn vocal about it, to being quiet and morose. She didn't even shred Havoc like she normally would have. As much as he'd wished in the past that she would just shut the hell up, her current, quiet state was much more alarming. It just wasn't Faye.

 

He couldn't blame her for her bad mood. By whatever logic Q possessed, he could see the rest of them being dragged here, but not Faye. There was absolutely no rhyme or reason for it. And Jet could see that this was wearing on her.

 

He couldn't figure out why Q had dragged Ed here either, but the string-bean seemed to be taking it all in stride. For her, it was just an adventure. At least that was the rumor. He'd hardly seen hide or hair of the girl since they arrived. She seemed to have latched onto Alphonse with an iron grip, and from what he's heard, the boy didn't seem to mind at all. Maybe he'll keep her out of trouble, he thought. Then a cold feeling washed over him, and he thought, Oh, Lord. I hope she doesn't get him into trouble.

 

He caught sight of Spike coming into the lounge with his shadow, and had to smile. He knew he'd never understand it… knew Spike didn't really understand it either; but that boy had gotten under his skin.

 

“Those two are joined at the hip,” Hughes said.

 

“God help us all,” Jet said with a laugh. “I'm not sure which one is the worst influence.”

 

Fullmetal broke off and headed right to Mustang, but Spike made a bee-line to Jet. He wasn't in his usual clothes either, but some sort of black, form-fitting pressure suit, and he was carrying a breathing filter.

 

“What's going on,” Jet asked when he reached them.

 

Spike nodded toward the red planet below, and said, “I'm joining the search and rescue group on the surface.”

 

Jet glanced out of the port, then back at Spike, confusion knitting his brow. “Search and rescue?”

 

“Yeah, some kind of industrial accident. I don't have the details, but there's about eight thousand in the colony, and there aren't enough people here to clean it all up.” He jerked a thumb back at Fullmetal, who was gesturing wildly while he talked to Mustang. “Ed wanted to join too, but the Captain said no. So he's trying to convince Mustang to let him go.”

 

“Think they could use a few more hands?” Jet asked.

 

“More than a few. There's another ship coming, but it won't be here for another 24 hours or so.”

 

Jet nodded, and turned. “Faye—“ but she'd disappeared. “Damn woman,” he muttered. “Let's go.”

 

0o0o0

 

Picard was discussing the coordinating of the rescue teams with Riker, when he heard the turbo lift doors whish open. From the look on his First Officers face, he knew instantly what he was in for, and a subtle wince crossed his face that only Riker saw.

 

“Permission to enter the bridge, Sir,” Mustang said from the lift.

 

Picard turned and got to his feet. He saw the Colonel and Troi, but not the boy. Inwardly, he felt a bit of relief at that, and nodded. “Of course Colonel.” He waved a hand toward his ready room, and said, “I know why you're here. Please follow me. Number One, you have the bridge.”

 

“Aye, Sir.” Riker took the center seat, as Picard strode toward the upper deck. As soon as Mustang and Troi stepped off the lift, he stopped in his tracks. Fullmetal was at the back of the lift. His head was down, and his long bangs hid his face, but Picard could see the stiff posture and the clenched fists.

 

“Colonel Mustang, I have a standing rule that no children are allowed on the bridge.” If it were possible for the boy to get any stiffer, he did. Picard had to give him credit, though. He'd heard about his temper, and he was controlling himself remarkably well.

 

“With all due respect, Captain,” Troi said. “This does concern him.”

 

Picard cocked a brow at that, then nodded. He turned his attention on the boy and said, “It appears you have an advocate, Mr. Elric. You may join us in the ready room, but I advise you to keep your temper in check.”

 

The boy raised his eyes, and Picard could see the tension in his jaw. “Yes, Sir,” he said low.

 

Once the doors closed on the ready room, Picard focused his attention on Mustang. The man was very old-style military, and there was no getting past it. He was standing at the desk at parade rest. “Colonel,” Picard said as he gestured at the sofa. “Please have a seat.”

 

Mustang smiled slightly, and said, “If it's all the same to you Sir, I'd prefer to remain standing.”

 

Picard nodded. He glanced over at the boy, who'd taken up residence in the corner of the office, and was currently staring out of the port with his arms crossed. He noticed some of the tension had left him, but he had no doubt that temper could flare right back up without a moment's notice.

 

“Colonel,” he said. His attention remained on the boy. “I have to admit that I find any military organization that enlists children disturbing.”

 

Fullmetal spun, and Picard was briefly stunned by the intensity and determination in his eyes. This was no mere fit of pique.

 

“I'm not a child, Captain.”

 

Mustang cleared his throat, and the boy clamped his jaw down tight. But the look he shot the Colonel promised a thunderstorm later. Picard let a small smile escape. “In our universe, you are still considered a child, Mr. Elric.”

 

“Permission to speak candidly, Sir,” Mustang said.

 

Picard nodded. “Always, Colonel.”

 

“Sir, I understand your reservations. The State military doesn't make a habit of feeding children into the grinder, I assure you. Fullmetal is an exception.”

 

“I understand he's a prodigy,” Picard said. “But the situation down on the planet's surface is dangerous; even for seasoned officers.”

 

Mustang chuckled softly, and it raised Picard's brows. It certainly wasn't the reaction he was expecting. “With all due respect, Captain. Fullmetal is a seasoned field officer. I don't think we could keep him behind a desk, if we tried.”

 

Picard couldn't miss the tone of pride and respect in the Colonel's voice when he said that. Nor did he miss the brief flash of shock that crossed the boy's face before he returned to his usual intensity.

 

The boy advanced on him, jerking a thumb at himself. “I'm a fully certified State Alchemist, Captain. I can take care of myself down there.”

 

“I have no doubt about that, Mr. Elric,” Picard said. “However, your lack of impulse control could endanger others. If you wish to help, we will gladly accept it, but you will remain on the ship. You can help in sick bay.”

 

The boy blinked and he slammed his mouth shut. An instant later, his eyes became intense, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but Mustang attempted to put a halt to the protest.

 

“You heard the Captain, Fullmetal.”

 

“Yes, Sir. I did.” The boy faced Picard again, and said, “But I don't think you understand. I can help better down there. I can use alchemy to get through any rocks that are blocking the way out for those people a lot faster than what you're using. And if I'm right there, I can see where the weaknesses are, and brace them.” He hesitated, then set his jaw. “I'm also a lot… smaller… than anyone else going down. I can get into tighter places.”

 

He took a deep breath, and righted himself. “I know I have a temper, Captain. I know I tend to just rush in sometimes. But I promise I'll follow orders. `Be thou for the people' is the State Alchemist's credo, Sir. Their safety is first.”

 

Picard had to admit he was impressed. Not only did the boy try to make a reasonable argument, he admitted to something he clearly found tough to acknowledge.

 

“Captain, if I may?” Troi said. Picard nodded and she continued. “I understand that Mr. Spiegel will be on Worf's team?”

 

“So I've been informed,” Picard said. “But what does this have to do with Mr. Elric, here?”

 

Mustang chuckled. “Captain, for some odd reason, Fullmetal and Mr. Spiegel seem to have developed a rapport. I believe he and your Lieutenant are probably the only two people in any universe who can be guaranteed to keep him from going off half-cocked.”

 

“This doesn't speak well of your command, Colonel,” Picard said, mildly.

 

Mustang smirked and nodded. “I freely admit it, Captain. In the case of Fullmetal at least.”

 

Picard faced the boy, and took a couple of steps toward him. He didn't flinch, nor back down. “Alright, Mr. Elric. I'll allow it. On one condition. You will follow Lieutenant Worf's orders. To the letter. And if you so much as breathe wrong, I'll have you beamed right back aboard this ship without further ado. Are we clear?”

 

The boy snapped to attention, and saluted. “Aye, Sir.”

 

Picard had to smile. The respect was genuine, not borne of temper or a stiff neck this time. “At ease, Fullmetal. We don't salute on this ship.”

 

The boy's hand came down, and he gave Picard a respectful bow.

 

“Report to Lieutenant Worf and get suited up. You'll beam down with his team in twenty minutes. Dismissed.”

 

Fullmetal left the ready room, but Picard didn't miss the triumphant “Yes!” he blurted out just before the door closed on him.

 

Once the boy was well out of earshot, Picard allowed himself to relax a bit, and gave Mustang an amused look. “I don't envy you your command, Colonel.”

 

Mustang chuckled. “It has its moments, to be sure.”

 

0o0o0

 

Fullmetal noticed the lighted platform that dominated the transporter room first. His first thought, was that it must work like the ship's turbo lifts, and he was in for a wild ride down to the surface. He bounced up onto the platform, and looked around, wondering where the doors were, and where he was supposed to sit.

 

All of a sudden, he felt a powerful yank on the safety straps of his environmental suit, and he was lifted off the platform. He blinked and came face to face with Data, who looked at him with impassive eyes, and said, “I do not believe you would wish to have your atoms confused with those of the incoming team.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Data kept him suspended in mid-air as a high-pitched whine started from the platform. Fullmetal turned, and was fascinated at the six columns of sparkling light that formed over the discs; but his fascination quickly turned to horror as the columns of light coalesced into human and humanoid forms.

 

He managed to extricate himself from the android's grasp, dropped to the deck on his ass, and crab-crawled backwards to get as far away from that thing as possible. He came up against a solid object and looked up. Worf was scowling down at him. “Is there a problem, Fullmetal?” he asked.

 

The boy's mouth gaped like a fish, but no sound came out. He looked back at the platform and saw the six people completely solidify, then step right off as though nothing unusual had happened. He could hear Mustang, Spike and Geordi enter; and the operator behind the console say, “There's one more team to beam up Lieutenant Commander, then we can send you folks on down.” He even heard Data acknowledge, but it all had a surreal, far-away quality to it.

 

Spike knelt down next to him, his face etched in concern. “You okay Ed?”

 

Fullmetal wanted to scream at Spike that he most certainly was not alright, but all he could do is gulp and squeak. Everyone was acting like having people just form in front of their very eyes was perfectly natural, and all he could think of was that there was nothing natural about human alchemy.

 

He saw Mustang scowl down at him then, and he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but that would require moving, and his limbs had turned to jelly.

 

“Second team beaming in now, Sir,” the operator said, and the high pitched whine started again.

 

Fullmetal didn't want to watch. Desperately, he didn't want to watch, but he couldn't tear his eyes off the platform. He felt Spike sag to the deck next to him, and whisper, “Shhhhhhiiiit.”

 

He heard Mustang gasp, and Geordi say, “Whoa, easy Colonel. Data, help me sit him down.”

 

“Lieutenant Worf, please clear the transporter room as soon as this party has finished,” Data said.

 

“Aye, Sir.”

 

And Fullmetal just stared, frozen.

 

When the six new people had solidified, they casually stepped off the platform, just like the previous party, and he heard Spike chuckle next to him. “That's some toy you got there, Geordi.”

 

LaForge helped Spike to his feet, and said, “We think it's pretty nifty, too. You alright?”

 

“Stunned, but fine. How's Mustang?”

 

“He's got his head between his knees, but I think he'll live.”

 

Geordi knelt down in front of Fullmetal, and gave him a warm smile. “Talk to me, Ed. Are you alright?”

 

The boy just stared at him, mute and wide-eyed.

 

“Interesting,” Data said. “I have seen a wide range of reactions from other cultures upon their first experience with transporter technology, but I do not believe I have seen a reaction quite so intense.”

 

Spike, knelt back down, threw Fullmetal's left arm over his shoulder, and attempted to help the boy to his feet. But he couldn't seem to feel them enough to get them under him, and he just sagged into the arm Spike had wrapped around his waist.

 

“Yeah, I kinda had the same reaction when Ed here, fixed the Bebop.” Spike gently slapped at the boys face, and said, “C'mon, Ed. Don't freak out on me now.”

 

“I am afraid I do not quite understand.”

 

“Ed used alchemy to fix our wrecked ship, Data.” He grunted, shifted the boy in his grip, and added, “You haven't seen half of what this kid can do, trust me. Ed! Snap out of it, before Mustang sees you like this.”

 

Fullmetal blinked, and found his feet. Spike smirked and loosened his grip on his a little. “Thought that might wake you up. You still feeling woozy?”

 

Fullmetal nodded, but he could feel reality slowly returning. Spike gently backed him up to the console, and said, “Bend over. And remember to breathe.”

 

“I'm with Data, here,” Geordi said. “I'm not seeing the connection.”

 

Fullmetal stared down at the deck, feeling the dizziness pass and his heart rate slow down, or start, he couldn't figure out which.

 

“The…effect,” Spike said. “Just from my own experience, it looks a lot like when Ed used alchemy to fix the ship. Alchemy has three parts, determine the make-up, break it down, then build it back up. Your transporters do the same thing, if I understand the theory correctly.”

 

“That is correct,” Data said.

 

“What Ed did was on an inanimate object, Data. What that transporter does is considered human alchemy, and that's taboo on their world.”

 

“I understand,” Data said. “I shall secure a shuttlecraft immediately.”

 

Fullmetal reached out and grasped Data's arm before he left, and said, “Wait.”

He looked up at the android. “We're not a bunch of Neanderthals just out of the caves. It's not like we can't understand the differences between your technology, and our science.” He straightened and brought his chin up. “We're not superstitious primitives.”

 

“Wait a minute, Ed,” Geordi said. “We didn't say that, and that's not what we think.”

 

“I think you will find that the crew of the Enterprise greatly respects religious differences,” Data said.

 

Fullmetal clenched his jaw, and said, “It's not a religion. Alchemy is a science.” He glanced over and saw Mustang in the corner, watching. The Colonel still looked pale, and shaken, but otherwise fine. Worf was watching next to him, but he couldn't read the Klingon's expression. He turned back to the three in front of him, and then looked inside, searching for the words he wanted. Searching for what had been bugging him since he opened his eyes, and found himself here. And it finally came clear. “Look,” he said. “I don't know how long we're going to be here. It might be a few days, it might be forever.” He looked from Spike, to Data, to Geordi. “We can't go run and hide whenever we see something we're not familiar with.” He pointed at the transporter platform and said, “You use that to move people, right? You don't use it to bring the dead back to life, or to create homunculi, or chimera. Right?”

 

“That is correct,” Data said.

 

Fullmetal took a deep breath, and said, “That thing is pretty scary. But if I avoided everything that scared the hell out of me, I would have never left my house.”

 

He stepped past Data and Geordi, and climbed the steps to the platform. He was bound and determined to do this, no matter how many butterflies swarmed around his stomach. His foot hesitated all on its own at the top step, but he set his jaw, and forced himself to step up. Then he picked the lighted circle closest to the front center, faced the rest of the transporter room, and crossed his arms. “Well?” he said. “Are we going, or not?”

 

Geordi laughed and took the spot next to him. The rest of the team followed, including Spike. Mustang hesitated briefly, then cocked a brow at Fullmetal and found a place on the platform.

 

The boy allowed himself a small smirk.

 

“Energize,” Data said, and the transporter started to whine.

 

As Fullmetal felt the effect of being taken apart at an atomic level, he heard Geordi laugh and say, “Edward Elric, you are one hell of a kid.”

 

Fullmetal gave him a narrow-eyed glare before the transporter room faded, and said through gritted teeth, “Don't call me a kid.”