Vandread Fan Fiction ❯ Counterattack ❯ Strains of Turmoil ( Chapter 4 )

Vandread is the property…. You know what I'm talking about. It isn't mine, suing me will get you absolutely nothing.

Well, here it is. No lemons for a while. Maybe next time.

Explosions blossomed in the distance. Sleek Dreads veered and swerved and unleashed their deadly payloads. Humanoid Bangatas closed and pitted strength against strength.

The Harvest group had immediately advanced towards its quarry, following protocols set into its programming. If it had had a mind of its own, it would not follow commands set by a xenophobic master. Especially since this particular prey had dispatched of far more powerful predators. Yet it had proceeded anyway, only to be met by a force that was, almost to a man, unceremoniously shaken to consciousness and was hung over, irritated, and CRANKY. It never had a chance.

"Damn you!"

"Go to Hell!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

Curses and swears of all shapes and classes were being heard all over the comm. channels as the pilots vented their anger on the hapless drones.

BC viewed the unfolding battle from the bridge. Everything was going without a hitch. "So that is what a space battle looks like." BC turned to see Jin and Magno enter the bridge. "Yes, Uncle Jin, those kids are doing well." Magno answered him. BC hurried to give the two seats. So far, none of the Harvest ships had penetrated far enough to threaten the Nirvana itself. She wouldn't take any chances however, if any did, standing up was not a very good position to be in if you were past a hundred years.

Jin looked at the console that had lowered around him, then he squinted at the main display. "Is that the special powersuit squadron?" He outlined a group of symbols on the main tactical display. "Yes the Type 101 Bangatas, you can get a close-up on your console," BC answered, showing him how. "They sure have come a long way." Jin said quietly to himself. She has come a long way.

Eyeballs, BC called them, more like mouths. Jarell looked at the two Cube Gateways with contempt. Two! He was suddenly faced by two gigantic humanoid shapes. By sheer size alone he was a tad on the disadvantaged side, as either of them, built to emulate the Dita-type Vandread, easily dwarfed his type 101. He ducked under a pair of dual energy streams. Whew, close. No weapon on his Bangata could match the sheer firepower of such weapons. Brandishing his polearm, he used the blind spot created by the quadruple blast and rushed toward the one on his right. Impaling one, he throttled up on verniers and swung his powersuit around, the bogey still attached to his glaive. Swinging it around and into its companion. Too bad the energy cannons were no longer firing when the two collided, but that can be remedied. Raising his arm, he blasted cannon fire into the space between the two, piercing already weakened armor and finishing them off.

"Here! Take this!" Maila screamed as she impaled another cube. She espied another one closing in fast. Too fast, there wouldn't be enough time to free her naginata from its latest victim. She waited for the cube to come nearer, then using her verniers to slip aside, cried out a battle cry as she fired her cannons at it.

Jarod yawned, he wasn't really hung over since he hadn't drunk any of the hard stuff. He had slept late though, so like everyone else he was in a hurry to get this over with so he could go back to bed. After the party last night Misty had still insisted on dragging him to places all over the ship. He'd played it safe, though, he hadn't agreed to go to all of them, just the ones from which he could make an easy getaway in case she did try to feed on him. Still, it was almost morning when she'd released him. He grunted as he dispatched another drone.

Waitaminute! He blinked. His viewscreen was empty. Momentarily disoriented, he spun his ship around, looking all around him. There they were. In his preoccupation he hadn't realized that he'd plowed right through the enemy formation and come out the other side. With a roar of boosters he sped back to where fighting was the fiercest.

"Dita! Hibiki! Watch it!" Meia warned the two pilots currently linked as a Vandread. "The rest of you keep it tight." She ordered the rest of her squadron as she led them through another pass at the enemy formation.

Off on the other side of battlefield, Barnette led the other Dread squadron through a series of complicated maneuvers, dispatching of opponents with an alacrity that was born of rage.

Damn you! She screamed silently. I still don't know what to do! Go to hell! Suddenly she saw it, the huge blue ship. It was built as a copy of the Nirvana and could almost match its firepower. "Let's go!" She called out to her squadron as she led them on an attack run on the blue ship. A string of fireballs flashed all over the hull as the second Dread squadron poured ordinance on the ship. Just as the squadron veered off to circle around, the ship began to change shape. O shit! Barnette was horrified to see that even the combined firepower of her squadron wasn't enough to put its lights out. Nevertheless, she circled around, ready to lead her squadron on another attack run. But not soon enough. Red energy flashed out from the humanoid shape's chest. "Scram!"

Jarod arrived just in time to see the duel and Barnette's squadron scatter before the Nirvana's copy. He grunted. He knew what to do. Throttling forward, he rammed his battleaxe into the giant's hip. Then, with a roar of thrusters, started creating an opening in the enemy's hull. Using the battleaxe to plow through the hull, he continued upwards, toward the enemy's shoulder, while at the same time pouring cannonfire into the gash he made.

Microexplosions flared as he caused damage, a particularly large one as the enemy's power core was breached. Terminating his pass at the giant's shoulder, he continued on and away, then paused, facing the huge cannon at its chest. It was just about to fire, but the light had winked out. He fired his cannons yet again, further aggravating the damage he had caused.

Meanwhile, Barnette's squadron, heartened at how much damage such a small mecha had done to the giant, reformed. Diving in at attack speed, they roared past Jarod's Bangata and let loose with everything they had. Jarod's maneuver, plus all the firepower at a fully armed Dread squadron's disposal, was more than enough for the Harvest copy. It broke up, explosions tearing its slender frame apart.

Cheers and whoops were heard all over as the other combatants congratulated the Jarod and Barnette's squadron. Such a huge enemy had never before been put down without at least the firepower of a Vandread, but they had done it.

On the Nirvana's bridge, Misty shrieked loudly in pleasure, causing everyone else to give her puzzled looks. "That's my beau!" At this they all turned back to their consoles uncomfortably. They weren't exactly sure what the word meant, but they'd seen Misty like this before and could make an educated guess. That shut them up. In his cockpit, a huge sweatdrop formed at Jarod's temple.

It was time.

"Hibiki!" Bart called out.

"Bart!" Hibiki, now fused with Meia, replied.

"It's time!"

The Vanguard disengaged from the gray upgraded Dread and fused instead with the red one. Vandread Jura deployed its shield, trapping both Cube Gateways with the Nirvana. It didn't bother with the smaller cubes and drones, the Dreads and Bangatas could handle them.

With a battle cry, Bart unleashed the Nirvana's firepower. Beams lanced out from firing ports and impaled the other two ships in the force field.

Without lead ships to guide them, the other drones just died down. Gascogne's captured Mothership collected them and reprogrammed them.

********

Maila hummed quietly to herself. Assessing the damage to her Bangata after every battle was a task that she would rather do herself, rather than leave to Parfet's by now expanded engineering team. It was almost a ritual she had started engaging in after each combat exercise they had had, and she fully intended to continue the habit now that they were looking forward to real battles. She had always loved powersuits. In Colony ship days she had managed the cargo holds. That was where the modern-day Bangata's ancestor was usually found.

The Bangata traced its ancestry to the multi-purpose cargo-loader powersuits. The MCP was humanoid shaped, about 3 meters tall, with an open-air operator's seat where the upper torso and head usually was. It was the machine of choice for loading heavy cargo, having replaced the forklifts that were far less precisely articulated, not to mention took up more floor space. Ordinarily, its operator's seat was `protected', if you could call it that, only by a frame of metal bars, although it could sometimes be fitted with an environmentally sealed, armored transparent canopy as a modification for exploring hostile environments. Even then, the `environmental protection' was meant primarily for the control panel's fragile electronics equipment and wiring. Pilots were still encouraged to wear environmental pressure suits.

Back then, she had been considered a very good operator, able to get a MCP to do anything she wanted it to. This was her primary reason for deciding to be a Bangata pilot upon joining the war effort. She was already familiar with the basic controls. The major difference was that the current incarnation was equipped with thrusters and vernier jets, fully mobile in space, whereas the old model was essentially bare, fitted if necessary with apogee motors included in the same modification kit as the protective canopy. The other major difference was that the Bangata was essentially a war mecha, with all the perks included… weapons, advanced sensors, advanced combat computer, armor, the works. Yup, a Bangata was definitely way more fun than a MCP.

She gave the power-spanner one last twist. That oughta do it. Wiping her sweat on a towel she looked around. The Bangata launch bay was a hubbub of activity as engineers and pilots swarmed all over the ships, checking for damage, requesting spare parts, and whatnot. She made a mental note to make her own request for spare parts. Later, when things had quieted down a bit.

Standing up she strode over to the next berth, where Jarod was using his computer to run diagnostics on his powersuit. "Hey," she tapped his shoulder. Jarod visibly flinched when he saw that it was a woman, but relaxed a bit when he realized whom it was.

Maila sighed, apparently, Jarod's fear extended in some degree to all females. He was just less jittery when it was Bangata pilots, being on the same team with them. On the other hand, he was a bit more apprehensive than usual when it was Misty. He probably viewed her as a predator out to hunt specifically him as prey. Speaking of which, "didn't Misty call you her beau?" she just couldn't resist ribbing him. "Dunno what she's talking about," came the blank reply.

Inwardly, however, Jarod was in a full-blown panic. What in hell is a beau? Is it some sort of special classification for a prey? This can't be good. Maila had crouched down beside the youth and had been around long enough to see the desperation beneath the controlled features. She smiled, "come on, what did you do last night?" "N… nothing. I don't know what you're talking about." "Come on." Without answering Jarod nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever result the computer had given him, then quickly made his escape, "see ya".

Meia, Jarell and a few of their pilots had, meanwhile, retreated to the squadron briefing room. On the table was an assortment of drinks, soups in bowls, tea, coffee and hot chocolate in carafes, juices in pitchers, plus some sweets in plates. None of them really wanted to stay there, each had someplace else he or she would rather go to. Unfortunately, the massive cases of hangover prevented each of them from doing anything else. Since they had all gotten drunk together, it was an unspoken agreement that they would deal with the consequences together. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the pilots hunkered down to bear with each other's company.

"Has anyone seen Jarod?" A roomful of aching heads turned blank stares at the blue haired girl standing at the doorway.

"I think he went straight to his room." Jarell volunteered. Thanking him, Misty beat a hasty retreat. Meia could only smile at the girl. She had filled out a bit in the past two years. Her once girlish form had now acquired womanly curves. Jarod might be reticent, but Meia had no doubt he would eventually see the light, if he didn't, Misty would make him see. In the meantime, more fruit juice.

********

Jarod was lying down on the bed, his legs dangling off the edge with his feet on the floor, his hands floating above his stomach. He had removed his khaki shirt, leaving on the black t-shirt underneath. He was too tired to take everything else off.

To the casual observer he was just playing around, typing on some imaginary keyboard… unless one looked closely enough. His eyeglasses were a completely opaque gray, responding to data inputs from the portable computer that was the bracer covering the lower half of his left forearm. Sensors from the bracer detected the movements of his hands, translating them as typing movements on a digital keyboard that was displayed in his glasses.

He paused, raising his glasses to rub his tired eyes. He'd tested some of the modifications he wanted to make to the Bangata's thruster and vernier control program at the end of the battle earlier. It hadn't exactly been a raving success. He was trying a different approach now. His eyes felt heavy, too. He would either continue typing until he finished the modifications or do so until his eyes just closed shut. It made little difference to him.

"Hello?! Jarod?! They said you were in there!" Jarod didn't even have to look, he'd programmed the door alarm to send its peephole image directly into his glasses. Which explained why Misty's friendliest, most engaging smile filled his glasses. That made him jump.

With a groan, he gave the command to reply, not even bothering to stand. "What? What do you want?" "Jarod, I just wanted to…" Jarod cut her off. "Why don't you leave me alone? I don't want anything from you. I'm not your beau, I'm not even your friend. I'm not your anything, so stay out of my way. Get it? Leave me the hell alone!"

Misty was on the verge of tears. Jarod hadn't bothered to show his face, but his tone of voice said it all. He hated her. Putting her hands to her face to stop the tears, she ran off.

Jarod could only stare blankly into his glasses. The stricken look on Misty's face almost made him regret what he'd said, although he couldn't understand why. Sighing, he closed down his computer and removed his glasses. He was too tired to get up so he just put them on the bed within reach. Then he gave in to the exhaustion. All those questions, that program, even these feelings he didn't understand would have to wait.

********

BC bent down at her console. Unlike most other crews that were already standing down, the bridge crew was still busy, at her request. Misty had excused herself for a while but was back, even more absorbed than the others, if that was at all possible.

They now had the complicated task of compiling sensor data from the battle. The data would then be sent to Joint High Command, which would evaluate it and make the final decision on whether or not Nirvana was ready to set off.

BC glanced at Misty, she had a strange expression on her face. Curious, but not wanting to pry, she shrugged it off. Whatever problem Misty had, she could deal with it at a later time, for now, work came first.

Her console pinged. All sensor analyses were complete. She pored over them, trying to predict what the High Command would think of it. She nodded in satisfaction, it would have to do. Keying in her high priority signal code, she sent it off. Now, all that was left was to wait.

********

Barnette lay down on her bed, curling into a fetal position. The adrenaline-caused excitement of being in the middle of a battle had worn off. Now, she was just plain drained. She'd been up early, even before Bart's `wakeup call'. As if that wasn't bad enough, her hangover had reasserted itself and she still did not know what to do.

~Flashback~

"Barnette wake up", Jura shook her friend awake. She'd awoken early, completely in the nude, which was not how she was usually attired for sleep. To make things worse, she had a hangover the size of Mejayl and couldn't exactly remember how she had ended up that way. She had slept peacefully, though, possibly the most peaceful in quite some time, but that could be the alcohol, lots of it. The last thing she remembered was having Jarell drag Barnette in. Although she had the sinking feeling that significantly more had happened. She remembered screaming somewhere in the dim haze that was her recollection of last night's events, and then there was the puzzling bloodstain on her sheets.

"Come on, Barnette. You have to come with me," she went back to trying to get Barnette off the bed. "Come with you? Where?" Barnette had finally gained sufficient consciousness to ask what the ruckus was all about. "I have to go to the medbay, got some questions to ask the doctors." "What does it have to do with me?" The hangover was beginning to get to Barnette, and her voice was beginning to get louder and more irritated.

"Come on, Barnette. Please, I can't go there alone." Barnette tried to shake the cobwebs away. "Alright, alright, just let me get cleaned up first." She did feel… sticky… and her throat was so dry. It might be a good idea to get up… if only to clean herself up. She could always go back to bed after Jura's… whatever.

********

"You don't just get pregnant when you engage in the sexual act. Factors have to be considered, fertility, timing and others." Dr. Jen Dunan looked quizzically at the two, her aged but still delicate features crinkling in curiosity. "Timing? What do you mean?" Barnette asked. "For a woman to conceive, an ovum must have been released from her ovaries. For most, it's sometime, about a week, just between monthly periods. Although a rare few don't adhere to this schedule, particularly those with irregular schedules."

"How do you know you have conceived?" Barnette asked again, her schedule was irregular.

"Most pregnant women feel bouts of nausea, dizziness, weakness, varying moods and tempers, cravings for unusual food, and others in numerous combinations and permutations. These are just some of things pregnant women feel physically."

"But you don't have to be pregnant to feel any of these. How do you know for sure that you're pregnant and not just very sick?" Barnette tried to conceal the panic welling up inside her.

"Our instruments can determine the presence of a fertilized egg cell within hours of conception." Duero cut in. Jen smiled, "Without instruments, the surest way of knowing is monthly bleeding. Pregnant women don't have monthly visits."

"What?!" The two cried out in unison, to the casual observer both had the same problem, but in truth their problems were worlds apart. Shit! My period won't be for another two or three weeks! Barnette was so panicked she could almost shoot someone. Jura, on the other hand, was disappointed, her period was due in a day or two.

"So," Duero could no longer contain his curiosity, "Why are you two asking? Does either of you have any reason to suspect she's pregnant."

"Err… of course not!" The two said together before laughing in a totally unconvincing way.

~End Flashback~