Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Helter Skelter ( Chapter 34 )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Helter Skelter

 

When I get to the bottom; I go back to the top of the slide; Where I stop and turn
and I go for a ride; Till I get to the bottom and I see you again; Yeah, yeah, yeah - The Beatles

 

The huge double doors slid open, and Edward took a startled step back. What lay beyond was a mucky, steamy primordial jungle that went on as far as he could see through the thick vegetation. A clearing of a sort lay directly in front of him; littered with derelict machinery, and various unidentifiable structures that looked like they were ready to give themselves back to the swamp. The smell of rotting vegetation and stagnant water assaulted his senses as he stared into the worst possible environment he could imagine. He couldn't comprehend any possible reason anyone would want to cultivate something so dismal and disgusting on this ship, unless…

 

He looked up at Worf. “No place like home, Worf?”

 

“Hardly,” the Klingon said, and took a step inside.

 

Edward noticed that Worf had stepped into a puddle right at the doorway and a thrill of shock went through him when he realized the green, slimy water stopped at the entrance with nothing to dam it back. Not even a drop splattered out onto the pristine carpeting in the corridor.

 

He knelt down, and hesitantly dipped a finger into the puddle. He could feel the heat, and the wetness, and the slime of it clinging to his flesh; but as he pulled his finger through the puddle and out into the corridor, it all disappeared with a tiny sparkle. He brought his finger up for closer inspection and stared in awe. There wasn't even a trace of dampness remaining.

 

He had expected… He wasn't sure what he expected, but this certainly wasn't it.

 

A huge boot settled into the muck just within his sight, and Edward looked up to see Worf looking down at him expectantly. “Are you coming?” he asked.

 

“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” Mustang said as he and Riker arrived. “You actually rendered Fullmetal speechless.”

 

Edward scowled as he got to his feet, but didn't say anything as Riker and Mustang slipped past and into the holodeck. He didn't miss the enormous curved blades in Riker's hands, either.

 

Riker cast a glance back and grinned. “You two going to stand there all day?”

 

A determined grin spread on Edward's face. “No way.”

 

“Brother?” Al said from behind him. He sounded nervous.

 

Edward looked back, and jerked his head toward the inside of the holodeck. “C'mon Al. It'll be fun.” Then he entered, and felt himself wrapped in a blanket of heavy, stinking steam.

 

Alphonse sighed, and followed. “That's what I'm afraid of Brother. Fun for you usually means chaos for everyone else.”

 

Once Al was past the entrance, the doors slid shut with a hollow bang. Edward instinctively looked back and suddenly forgot how to breathe. “Where the hell…”

 

Where once was a door, there was now more steamy jungle. He looked back at Riker and pointed where the door was. “What…”

 

Riker chuckled. “The door's still there, Ed.” He knelt down and hefted a small rock. He handed it to Mustang and nodded somewhere in the near vicinity of the boy.

 

Mustang smirked and hurled the rock somewhere over Edward's shoulder. The boy ducked instinctively and blinked when the rock seemed to hit an invisible barrier and bounce off. “Hey!” he shouted. “That was a little close, dammit.”

 

“You wouldn't've been hit,” Riker said as he tossed the larger of the two weapons to Worf. “Well, you might. Depending on the force of the blow.” The Klingon caught it deftly and moved closer to Edward. “That was a wall, by the way.” He cocked a brow at Mustang and said, “Your aim's a little off there, Colonel.”

 

Mustang only shrugged.

 

Riker turned back to the boys and continued. “The technology gives the impression of reality but none of this is real. The holo-projectors are embedded in the walls, floor and ceiling, and force-field generators give everything a tactile feel. You can feel something as gentle as a breeze, or as hard as a blow—“ A roar in the distance interrupted him and he cast a glance at Worf. “You don't leave anything out, do you?”

 

“Of course not,” Worf said.

 

“Incidentally,” Riker said to Edward. “Those force-field generators are part of the safety protocols.” He nodded to Worf and Ed turned to look…

 

…and suddenly knew he was dead.

 

In an instant his world narrowed down to the fierce look on the Klingon's face and the glint of light on metal as the huge curved blade whistled through the air toward his throat. There was no time to defend himself and all he could do was scream as he was certain his head was about to be neatly separated from the rest of his body. His eyes involuntarily slammed shut and he felt himself shoved back into the muck. He was certain the last sound he would ever hear would be his brother's anguished and startled cry. “Nii-san!”

 

Then all was silent and the first thing that went through his mind was that death wasn't so painful after all. He slowly became aware of the pounding of his heart and the sound of Mustang's snickers. “Edward, open your eyes,” he said, finally.

 

He cautiously opened one, then the other. Then his hand shot up to his throat and he heaved a sigh of relief to discover that he still had his head. The next instant his relief changed to irritation, as he glared at the three men who appeared to be enjoying themselves at his expense.

 

Worf offered him a hand up and Edward just stared suspiciously at it for a moment. “Consider that `Equivalent Exchange',” the Klingon said.

 

Edward grinned knowing he was talking about the insult he'd hurled at him earlier. He shook the muck off his hand, then let Worf help him up.

 

“I advise none of you use alchemy in here,” Riker said. “I don't think the Captain would be too happy if you broke his ship. And the system isn't set up for those kinds of environmental changes.”

 

Mustang gave Riker a curious look. “I take it then; the changes Data made earlier were just temporary?”

 

Riker nodded. “You might not be much of a problem regardless, but,” he nodded toward Edward and Al, “the reports about the Elric's `affinities' seems to involve the more solid aspects to their environment.”

 

Edward gave Mustang a wicked grin. “Can you even fight without snapping Colonel?”

 

Mustang smirked and examined his fingernails. “Hmm. It's been awhile, but I think I can manage a little hand-to-hand.”

 

Edward snorted. “We'll see.” He gave Worf a sideways glance and said, “So are we gunna stand around and talk all day?”

 

“Computer, scan players Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang,” Worf said to the air. “Provide bladed weapons appropriate to size and physical abilities. Weapons list; Worf Seven.”

 

“Acknowledged.”

 

A moment later a variety of exotic and deadly weapons appeared near each of the three players. Mustang cocked a brow at Worf. “Any recommendations?”

 

Worf held up his betleH and gave him a soul-chilling grin. Mustang's look grew nearly as feral as he grabbed a betleH of his own.

 

Edward snickered and looked over his selection. His eyes lit up when he saw the spear and he snagged it. He swung it around and tested the weight and balance then gave a little nod.

 

When he saw what Alphonse chose, he almost laughed. It was so appropriate to the armor. He watched as Al swung the battle axe deftly. It didn't appear to be all that large in his brother's hands, but Edward knew he would be hard pressed to handle it himself.

 

“Hey Al.” When he had his brother's attention, he nodded and grinned. “It suits you.”

 

“Ready?” Riker asked.

 

“Let's do it,” Edward said, and got into a battle-ready stance.

 

Worf gave the order and the air became tight. Edward had long enough to wonder if the tension in the air was from anticipation or if it was part of the holodeck experience before the jungle erupted.

 

Creatures of several nightmarish varieties burst from the jungle from all sides, surrounding the party in short order. All of them armed with weapons similar to the players, but to Edward they looked even deadlier in the hands of the enemies. “Holy fucking shit!” he blurted as he staggered a few steps back from his own personal nightmare. He nearly dropped his weapon and had to scramble to keep his grip on it. Every instinct in him told him to just run, but he started to mumble a mantra to fight it. “It's not real, it's not real, it's not real—“ He swung the spear up just in time to deflect a blow and felt the vibration of the impact all the way down to his shoulder. “—oh hell, it's real!”

 

The nightmare's relentless attack kept Edward backing up as he scrambled to just keep his skin whole. Anything that resembled discipline and training flew into the ether and any coherent thought disappeared. He knew that if he was given half a second to catch his breath and gather his thoughts he'd be fine, but his attacker wasn't willing to allow that. He didn't even have enough time to bitch at Worf for the cheap shot he pulled.

 

“A soldier favors haste over cleverness. That means there are no cheap shots, Edward,” an overly smug, and incredibly irritating voice said in his head. “Strike quickly and you'll end it quickly, too.”

 

Dammit, he thought. That Bastard Colonel taunts me even inside my own head.

 

It worked to get him focused. At the first opportunity, he flipped the spear and stabbed the point into the muck. With both hands wrapped around the shaft, he used it as support to launch himself vertical and ram both feet into the face of his attacker. The monster staggered back a few steps, stunned. Edward took the opening it afforded him to yank the spear up and keep the creature backing up with quick, relentless blows from the carved pummel. He hadn't formulated any strategy; he just wanted to keep the thing far enough away that he wouldn't come in contact with the short sword it wielded.

 

A warning cry from Alphonse caused him to spin and duck. Without thinking about it, he brought the business end of the spear up, catching another nightmare in the mid-section just as it leapt for him. He used the creature's own momentum against him and threw him up, over and back into the first attacker slamming both of them into the ground. In a smooth motion, he levered himself to his feet and braced himself as he pulled the spear's point out of the body of his attacker.

 

“Finish him, Fullmetal,” he heard Mustang shout from somewhere behind him. Edward spun, not quite comprehending just what the Colonel meant and saw Mustang's eyes go wide. “Dammit!” he snapped and lunged. Edward turned again… just in time to see the creature get back to its feet, and come at him with a roar.

 

There was a flurry of motion and then Worf flew past him. The Klingon's hair had come loose from his normally incredibly neat ponytail; and between the feral look on his face and the flying mane, he looked for all the world like a lion on the hunt. The ferocity of action when he swung the betleH was impossible to see beyond the glint of light on the metal as it arced one way, then it arced back to other way as Worf kept his momentum going forward.

 

Then… nothing for a brief instant. Edward wondered what had just happened, as both creatures just stood there a moment. Then in a shower of sparkles, the top halves fell away from their bottom, and then everything just faded in a twinkle that looked much like the transporters.

 

Edward just stared.

 

“Warm-up complete,” the smooth voice of the computer announced, and Edward blinked.

 

Mustang's eyes went wide, and he stared at Riker. “Warm-up?”

 

“Of course,” Riker said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

 

Worf crossed the clearing, and bent to grab at something in a slimy puddle.

 

“I don't recall my last experience in the holodeck being quite so… energetic,” Mustang said. Gone was the usual smirk, and arrogantly raised brow. Edward thought he looked rather embarrassed, in fact.

 

Worf had retrieved whatever he was searching for, and returned to the group, shaking slime and decaying plant matter off the item as he went. “Commander Data was going easy on you,” he said as he held the filthy betleH out to Mustang. “Your weapon, Colonel.”

 

If it were possible for Mustang to look any more embarrassed, Edward was certain he saw it as the man cleared his throat and hesitantly took the weapon back. The boy looked around at his surroundings in order to suppress a snicker.

 

Riker chuckled, and slapped Mustang on the shoulder. “If it's any consolation, I did just as badly my first time.”

 

“Worse,” Worf corrected.

 

Riker's shocked expression was comical, and Edward was certain that it wasn't serious. “Lieutenant Worf, I'm a seasoned officer. I was well versed in hand-to-hand combat when we first met. I couldn't have been `worse'.”

 

Worf looked pointedly at Mustang and said, “Commander Riker had his betleH taken from him and used against him.” He paused, and Edward was certain it was for emphasis. Especially when he saw the gleam in the Klingon's eye when he cast a significant glance at Riker. “During the warm-up.”

 

“Hey, I was ganged-up on and pinned to the ground,” Riker said through a laugh.

 

Something tugged at Edward's thoughts, and he stared down at the spot where the two attackers had fallen before they disappeared. There was no trace of them on the ground. It was like they had never been there.

 

“Commander Riker,” he said. “Where do the bodies go when they die?”

 

“They're just taken out of the scenario,” Riker said. “They don't die. They were never really `there' to begin with.” When Edward didn't respond right off, Riker's look grew serious. Puzzled. “They're holographic projections just like the rest of our surroundings. Like a three-dimensional photograph. Why do you ask?”

 

Edward stared back down at the spot the bodies fell, his brow furrowed in concentration and his finger across his lips. After a moment, he shook his head. “Something.” He looked up at Riker, grinned and shrugged. “Curiosity.”

 

“Okay.” Riker said, his smile returning. He swung his weapon around, and cocked a brow at Edward. “Ready for more?”

 

“You have to ask?”