Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Life Thereafter ❯ System Error ( Chapter 24 )

Disclaimer:How I wish I owned Trigun. Sadly, I own it not.

 

A/N:Well, here we are at Chapter 24. Some fluff, some action, and of course, other stuff. I have worked on it all week, which is the reason for the early post. I felt most inspired after acquiring Trigun Maximum Volume 7. Hehehehe…

Well, enjoy the latest installment! XD

 

 

 

System Error

 

Meryl bit her lip, a knot of unease settling deep in her stomach as she walked back and forth in the medical lab. It was not because she was not ill or sick, nothing like that. She just had the strangest feeling that something was amiss. The more Meryl thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. After all, Knives had only gone to fix a glitch in the security system. That was not anything worth worrying about. He would come back soon and grace them with his presence once more.

Not that that's any reason for celebration, Meryl muttered to herself.

“Meryl?”

She jumped in surprise at the familiar voice addressing her. “Huh? What?”

Vash stared at her. “Er, you keep on pacing. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, uh, no! I'm fine,” Meryl exclaimed, a bit taken aback when she saw Vash was indeed right about her pacing. She had barely noticed that she was doing it.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Meryl forced herself to remain calm. Why do I feel this way? Knives is just going to take care of a system error. Everything's fine…isn't it?

She sighed and began trying to distract herself from the current situation. Glancing down at herself, Meryl noticed the loose black shirt with long sleeves and the pair of blue jeans Millie had insisted that she take along with her. Both were rather old, but they served nicely now, especially considering the fact that her wounds could be torn open if she was not careful. Meryl made a mental note to thank Millie profusely for insisting that she bring heavier clothing. This ship could get cold sometimes.

Shivering slightly, Meryl hugged herself to keep in the warmth. There was so much to worry about now. Vash was still deteriorating, and despite the fact that the feathers and wings were becoming a very normal sight, Meryl still understood that they were a time bomb. They had not found a way to cure whatever ailed him. Even Knives seemed stumped at this point, although he would never admit it.

Well, maybe if we run some additional tests, we'll be able to learn more about this. I'm pretty sure Knives knows other things that he's unwilling to tell me. At least I hope that's the case…

Meryl shook her head. I can't believe I just thought that.

“Meryl?”

She jerked her head up, startled. I've been staring blankly at the floor, haven't I? she realized. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

Vash blinked. “I was just asking you again if there was something wrong. I think I asked several times, but you wouldn't answer.”

“I'm a bit…distracted at the moment,” Meryl admitted hesitantly. “Sorry.”

A small smile lifted his lips. “That's ok. I was just wondering what was so thought provoking. You've been zoning out a bit.”

“Um, yes, I have…”

Vash muttered something, so softly that Meryl could not hear him. “Speak up, Vash,” she said, somewhat amused. “I can't hear you when you're whispering.”

He cleared his throat. “Do you…uh…do you…want to talk about whatever is on your mind?”

Oh, no…

In all honesty, Meryl did not want to mention what she was thinking because her suspicions were probably unfounded anyway. After all, it was not like system errors were uncommon, especially on old ships like these. Still, she could not help thinking about it.

Why was he so adamant about me staying here? I mean, sure, I'm a “filthy spider,” but…

“Gunsmoke to Meryl? Come in Meryl! This is Vash calling!”

Meryl could not suppress a tiny grin. What a broomhead… “Well,” Meryl began, “I'm just, uh, wondering what's taking Knives so long. That's all.”

Vash looked thoughtful. “Well, these systems, while advanced, are pretty old. Plus, they're complex so it might take Knives a bit longer to find whatever is wrong with them.”

“Oh. Right.”

Meryl scuffed her shoe lightly against the floor. Vash was right, of course. Knives was probably just messing around with the mechanisms. Still, she was unable to shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this picture. Meryl had no faith or trust in Knives beyond his duplicity and hatred of all humans. Unless maybe one counted his determination to make Vash well again, which was genuine enough, from what Meryl could see.

His signs of affection are really bizarre, she thought glumly. What kind of person shoots his own brother's arm off? And kills his own mother figure? Tcch, why am I even trying to understand that twisted-?

“Your foot.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

Vash pointed with his good arm at her right foot. “Your foot. It's bouncing.”

Meryl looked down and saw her right leg was bouncing restlessly. She forced it to stop, and breathed slowly in and out.

This is absurd! I feel like I'm stepping on pins and needles. WHY?

“Meryl?”

She looked up, her gaze meeting the uncertain one of Vash the Stampede. “Yes?”

“Is there…I mean, are you sure there isn't anything else that-?”

Just then, a huge explosion caused Meryl to topple sideways onto her side. Tensing her muscles, she shut her eyes made a small “oof” sound when she hit something soft. When the rumble subsided, she cracked her eyes open and, upon noticing she had landed on her side on her very own bed, Meryl sighed with relief, allowing herself to relax a bit.

She stiffened. What was THAT?

“Meryl! Are you alright?” Vash asked, a tinge of urgency in his voice.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she said, pushing herself up slowly. “But, what was that?”

“I don't know, but we're going to find out,” Vash said softly.

Meryl looked at him, noting the serious cast to his face and the solemnity of his eyes. He did not look like the goofy, donut-scarfing gunman whom she had met a few years ago, nor was he the kind, sometimes tongue-tied person whom she had been looking after. No, this was the outlaw, Vash the Stampede.

There are so many sides to him, yet they're all him somehow. I wonder how that's possible…

“Meryl.”

Meryl snapped out of her reverie. “Yes?”

“I want you to use the main computer to hack into the security system,” Vash stated.

“Are you sure I can do that?” Meryl asked nervously. “Your brother didn't exactly teach me how to do something so advanced.”

Vash looked at her appraisingly. “I'll instruct you.”

Meryl nodded, biting her lip again, this time drawing blood. Walking as swiftly as possible without opening her injuries, she stopped at the console and sat in the chair usually occupied by Knives. Typing rapidly under Vash's careful instruction, she scoured file after file, bypassing security measures that Knives had left running. Hopefully, some clue to the explosion would be found.

 

 

Vash lay on his bed patiently, the only sound in the room being Meryl's fingers tapping the keyboard, searching for whatever Knives had been viewing before he had left. Every now and then, she would ask a question about which option on the monitor that she should choose, and he would answer briefly, short and to the point. A grim look on his face, Vash waited for whatever might come.

He should have suspected something. That was all Vash could think about. Vash could have smacked himself for not remembering that the computers recorded the status of the ship's systems and sent information to the main computer once a month. That document had already arrived about two days before.

Something else is going on. Knives, what are you up to?

“Vash.”

“Yes?” he responded.

Meryl turned slightly and looked at him. “I've managed to get through, but I need a password to access the security system. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

Vash leaned back, frowning in thought. What would Knives use for a password?

Then, it hit him. “Try the word `Tessla,'” he said solemnly.

Meryl paled a little before solely typing in each letter. The screen beeped in confirmation. She bowed her head. “You were right.”

Vash nodded gravely. “Now, check the security.”

“Alright.”

Several more seconds of typing had passed when Meryl gasped. “What are they doing here?”

“What? There are intruders?” Vash asked, alarm in his voice. If there really are intruders here, Knives has probably gone to kill them all! “Who are they, Meryl?”

“They look like…the Bad Lads,” she said faintly.

Vash was flabbergasted. “Brilliant Dynamites Neon? How did he find his way here?”

“I don't know, but it looks like he came in from the rear. What should we do?”

Vash began to sit up, pulling against the straps holding his immobile arm up. “I have to…stop him. Before someone gets hurt.”

Meryl stared at him. “You can't be serious!” she protested. “Just look at yourself! Do you honestly think you'll be able to make a difference like that?”

“It…doesn't matter,” Vash said firmly, still dragging against the constraints. He glowered at them when they refused to let him go. “I have to try.”

He looked up then, only to find Meryl's nose inches away from his own. They locked gazes, both searching for something. Vash was suddenly acutely aware of everything around him, which was really inconvenient, considering he had a really bad itch he wanted to scratch. Still, he did not waver, somehow sensing that whatever was happening now was too important.

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

Vash looked at Meryl, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “After all this time, do you really have to ask?”

Meryl was silent for several moments, his face conflicted a warring emotions seemed to battle for supremacy. Vash watched them all come and go, catching glimpses of her thoughts upon her countenance every now and then. Finally, she nodded, her fists clenched and her head bowed.

“No. I guess I don't.” Looking up, she smiled wanly. “I'll help you get down from there.”

I'm truly sorry, Meryl. But, this is just something I have to do. “Thank you.”

Vash leaned back again (scratching the itchy spot as discreetly as possible) as Meryl made her way around the side of the bed. Reaching upward, she tentatively wrapped her fingers about one of the buckles. She jerked her hand away when the feathers beneath her fingertips began to rustle. Vash winced at the look on her face, understanding perfectly why she had done so.

“Listen, Meryl, you don't have to… I'll do it myself.”

She shook her head. “No. I can do it. I…need to, I think.” Without another word, she resumed unlatching him from the device.

Vash averted his eyes while she worked, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the fact that his own “appendages” (for lack of a better word) were acting on their own. Running his prosthetic hand through his hair, he absently fingered a few of the strands, and even though he could not see them, he knew they were as black as coal.

With every day that passes, I know that time grows shorter and thing become more twisted. I've always stood on my own feet, but this time, I may need some help.

“There,” Meryl said.

“WHA!” Vash squawked as he toppled over due to the weight of his now-unlatched arm. Then, someone caught him and began to push him up before he could hit the floor.

“I gotcha!” Meryl huffed as she pushed up against him, her fingers intertwining with feathers and wings. “You've gained weight or something,” she groused.

“Ahah,” Vash laughed uneasily. “Yeah, I guess.”

Straightening himself as best he could, Vash heaved his arm onto the bed. He stared at it glumly before pushing down hard with his good arm for support as he tried to get to his feet. As he attempted to stand, his knees buckled, and he fell back onto the bed.

“Here, I'll help you,” Meryl said, grasping his arm and hauling Vash upward, nearly falling under his weight as she slung his right arm over her shoulder. Beneath the feathery mass, he felt her shudder.

“Are you…alright?” Vash asked hesistantly.

“Er, yeah,” she sputtered. “Let's go, then.”

Vash nodded, shifting some of the weight off of Meryl's small frame. “Yeah. Let's go.”

 

 

Brilliant Dynamites Neon, his good humor fading, sighted down the line of his gun, which began to blow a bright yellow, the sound it usually made becoming louder every second that passed by. His eyes locked onto the man who called himself Millions Knives, BDN scrutinized his opponent's every move. In a battle such as this, he knew, only one came out alive.

Neither antagonist moved for a long while, one tense and ready for action, the other calm and confident, a sneer twisting his lips. Neon frowned, disliking this “Knives” character more and more. However, he kept his guard up, waiting for the silence to be broken, either by gunshot or by something else entirely.

Neon edged sideways a little towards the doorway, his gaze still fixed on Knives, who followed his small movement with one of his own, stepping over the body of a dead Bad Lad. Anger flashed across BDN's eyes as his briefly glanced at the dead men on the ground. His men.

The bastard will pay for this, Neon growled.

The sound of quickening footsteps distracted BDN momentarily. “Boss,” Beremy called, running through the open door, “what's taking so-?”

“Beremy, ya idiot, get the hell out of here!” Neon shouted, sending his second-in-command sprawling and out of the room with one quick swipe of his large fist.

Shit!

That one moment of distraction was all Knives needed to attack. Neon barely managed to hit the deck before he heard several bullets being fired, whizzing straight over his head. BDN grit his teeth and fired back from his position on the cold floor.

Neon watched as Knives sidestepped every single one and dropped into a crouching position and returned fire. Knives's counterattack was so fast that Neon almost thought he had not aimed. Rolling to the side, Neon realized how wrong he had been when a bullet grazed his right thigh, not enough to cause too much damage, but it did cause him to jerk backwards a few steps.

Not pausing to check the harm done, BDN pushed himself to his feet roughly and fired another shot before dodging behind the huge mound of treasures he had acquired in his many years as a bandit, hardly noticing the crimson trickle staining his pants. Neon reloaded, his gun clicking shut as he released the safety once again. Pushing his large hat up, BDN peeked over the top, only to be greeted by another hail of bullets.

“So, human, do you intend to run from me all day?” came Knives's scornful voice. “Or do you intend to commit suicide by fighting me? Either way, the outcome will be the same.”

What an arrogant bastard. He'll get it, though…

Neon began to laugh. “Hahahahahaha! Is that what you think I'll do, you son of a bitch? Hell no, I won't! We'll fight to the bitter end, if that's what it takes!”

“You still don't understand who you're dealing with, do you?” Knives hissed. “I am superior!”

Now BDN was really laughing. “Superior? My ass! I'm not gonna back down from a fight! No way in hell, ya bastard! I'll wipe that arrogant smirk right off your face!”

Neon leapt up and immediately pulled the trigger in a rapid succession. Knives evaded once again, taking cover behind a heap of former Bad Lads. Cursing under his breath, BDN reloaded and aimed again, but he refused to shoot another round.

Damn it! I haven't even grazed the bastard yet!

Ducking once more behind the protective shielding of the spoils of past raids, Neon reloaded. Cocking his head, he listened closely for any creak, any noise that would clue him in on Knives's whereabouts. BDN picked up a click, most likely the sound of Knives's flipping his gun shut after restocking his Colt.

His entire body tense, Neon waited, momentarily taking the time to look at the wound. Nothing to serious, he noted. A small, almost indistinguishable noise pricked his attention. BDN holstered his gun as quietly as possible and wrapped his large fingers around the “other” set of triggers. He waited.

Click.

“Were you expecting someone?” Knives sneered from above.

Neon whirled around, catching a glimpse of the end of the barrel of Knives's gun before throwing himself out of the way, the sound of a gunshots echoing throughout the empty room. He grunted with pain when something forceful hit him, this time in the left leg.

Skidding on his back, BDN hit the wall hard. His leg was on fire, a burning sensation creeping upwards as blood oozed from the gunshot hole. Still, from what he could tell, it had just barely missed the bone. Looking up, Neon saw Knives standing over him, a smirk on his face as he pointed the black handgun straight at BDN's face.

Neon bowed his head, a lopsided grin on his face. “So, you think you've won, do ya?”

“Is there any reason why I should think otherwise?” Knives asked derisively.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Click.

Neon looked up, a glint in his eyes. “TAKE THIS!!!!” he roared, pushing the triggers of the great dynamos on his shoulders down with as much force as he could muster.

The scream of bullets firing rapidly was nearly deafening, but Neon held on, laughing the whole time as he blasted Knives with his most powerful weapon. Debris and smoke flew everywhere, but BDN did not care. He was caught up in the thrill of the moment that he hardly noticed the reverberation of yet another explosion, which blew smoke and dust into his face.

After about thirty seconds, the large dynamos whirred to a stop, and Neon squinted through the smoke, waiting for it to clear as he wiped the grit from his face. While he was relatively certain that his action had been unexpected on Knives's part, BDN was certain that he was still alive. After all, he was the Stampede's brother, if one believed that, and Brilliant Dynamites Neon did indeed.

Where is he now? That wasn't enough to kill him. I know it wasn't.

Narrowing his eyes, BDN strained to see through the thick smoke, which reeked of gunpowder. Not caring to take the chance of being caught sitting down, he ripped a piece off of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his injured leg before forcing himself to his feet with a grunt.

Favoring his right leg, BDN leaned against the wall, glaring at the smoke suspiciously, expecting to be attacked any moment now. However, the assault did not come. He grasped the handle of his gun, watching the smoke cautiously as it cleared.

There was a huge, jagged hole in the wall of the ship across from him. Neon was tempted to admire his handiwork until he heard gunshots, followed by screams coming from outside of the ship.

Shit! He landed in the middle of the Bad Lads!

Brilliant Dynamites Neon rushed forward, ignoring the pain ripping at his injured leg, determined to finish that bastard. Flashy and sparkly notwithstanding, BDN was going to put an end to that twisted son of a bitch before he killed any more of his men!

 

 

Fuwahahaha! Behold the evil cliffhanger! WAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Knives: . . .

Guesses, people! I want guesses! Tell me what you think will happen next! -evil grin-

Knives: Child, you are a very disturbed individual.

Hah! Look who's talkin', Mr.-I-Shot-My-Own-Bother's-Arm-Off-And-Am-A-Genocidal-Maniac!

Knives: Hnnn…

Muhaha. Now, REVIEW for me, the insane authoress, please! XD