Vandread Fan Fiction ❯ Counterattack ❯ Ripples ( Chapter 7 )

Well, here it is! What everyone, including yours truly has long been waiting for. The latest update. Oh and disclaimers by the way, you know the drill.

Tenmei Uragasumi, more commonly known as Buzam A Calessa bent over the display of the local star cluster. She (or he) had spent the past few hours poring over star charts and making calculations. Although Magno was still aboard, she was now the captain of the Nirvana. Magno's function was mostly to represent the Elders as their plenipotentiary, and although she still took an active role in the activities aboard the ship, she left most of the crucial decisions to the captain. Which explained why BC was sleepless, and why the Nirvana was `idling' along at less than speed of light.

She fell into a chair rubbing her eyes and yawned. Operation Clean Sweep had two phases. The first involved gathering allies and eliminating other Harvest groups they might come upon. And it paved the way for the second phase, which was all out war with Earth. The first homeworld.

Easier said than done. When they first came upon the harvest, it had been going on for almost sixty years. And boy had they strayed. That first wormhole jump had taken them to within a few lightyears of earth. Close enough to pick up a life pod that had been adrift ever since Pluto was harvested. Which was real close considering that ancient history held Pluto to be the outermost planet of the original homeworld's star system. They had gotten lucky.

Harvest had by that time progressed so far that what they came upon were only stragglers. Rear guard set to stay back, patrol and protect Earth. In their journey home they came upon bigger and more powerful elements of the Harvest. Proof that they were getting closer to the main force, which at the time was prowling in the vicinity between Melanas and Talark-Mejayl. No wonder 5 groups had immediately diverted to Talark-Mejayl. They just happened to be in the neighborhood. And yet only two eventually made it to the final battle. Meaning there were still at least three out there.

Which goes back to the problem at hand. The star charts in the Nirvana's databanks consisted primarily of the space between Earth and Talark-Mejayl. The Melanites had traded astrogational data and added a bit more. But beyond that, no one was really sure where other colonies might be located, assuming they hadn't been harvested yet. That was why task groups were roaming the sector, on the lookout for harvest ships. Maybe they would know where to look. Data from those `surveys' had been incorporated into the Nirvana's data banks but it still wasn't enough. There was still a lot of space to cover. Even at its inception, the idea was for Nirvana to set out from Talark-Mejayl in the direction opposite from Earth, catch up with a few Harvest groups, and maybe help out a potential ally or two from harvest. Not so far-fetched, considering that the elders and the First Generationers had confirmed that other colonization ships had pressed on when what was once the Ikazuchi had signaled being unable to find its way out of the storm. The founders of Melanas were on one such ship. It had put down just a few lightyears afterwards, while others continued on.

Over the past few days the enormity of the task had slowly dawned upon BC, and now she was scared. Scared shitless.

**************

Jarell made another turn at the corridor and finally slowed down to a walk. Forty-five minutes. That was how long he had been running, according to his chronometer. He took steadying breaths as he walked. He normally ran more, but not today. Today he had to go to the gym to hit the punching bags, maybe a sparring match or two. He would need his strength.

**************

Meia finished stretching with a grunt and straightened up, doing steadying breaths. Off to a corner, Hibiki was almost done with the punching bags. It would be her turn next, but in the meantime, she got back to ready stance and started moving, executing a series of offensive and defensive techniques that not only prepared her body for combat, but also taught her mind to focus. Hibiki said his goodbyes just as she was finishing with her kata, her form eventually going back to ready stance and then finishing with a bow.

************

Barnette looked at the small gadget in her hands, sealed in plastic. A self-administered pregnancy test. She moved to tear the plastic seal …and … paused. She was afraid. No point in stepping around the issue. Afraid of what the result might be. Opening a drawer in her dresser she put it there, carefully putting it under the other assorted items in the drawer. She might end up using it, eventually. But for now, she still had time. It had only been a couple of weeks. In a flash of rationality, she realized that she might be getting anxious over nothing. Unfortunately, it didn't last as she soon realized that the worst case scenario might still come true.

Never mind, she thought. She could afford the suspense for a while longer. For now, fear of the possible result outweighed the possibility that she might be wrong. In the meantime she could make do. It would also mean avoiding Jura, she couldn't exactly face her with this hanging over her head.

Oh well, Jura would just have to be patient for now while she sorted things out.

*************

Misty, leaned over the railing, looking down at the garden below her. She sighed as a single teardrop ran down her face. She couldn't for the life of her understand why Jarod didn't like her. His reaction was even worse than Hibiki's had ever been. For that matter, she couldn't understand her own self. Why couldn't she just drop it and go after somebody else, like she always did before? She'd managed to do so with Hibiki, and countless others. She realized then that what she had felt then for Hibiki was gratitude, gratitude at his being the first living face she saw after such a long sleep, after such sadness on her home planet of Pluto. Gratitude for just being there to welcome her back to the land of the living. But now, she didn't know. Jarod was different. Sure he was smart. Smart in a way that made everybody else stupid compared to him. And he was nice too. She could tell in the way he laughed and talked with his squadmates, the way they returned his kindness. The way he treated others, even, every one else… except her. More tears fell. It didn't help at all that he was so cute. Why couldn't he return just a little of her feelings? She loved him so much.

The realization only made her want to cry some more. She loved him, and she didn't even know if he could love her back. Had so far showed no signs of being able to.

She bent over the railing crying her heart out.

Unknown to her a pair of bespectacled eyes were watching her from the shadows outside the doorway. Stepping back out of sight, Jarod leaned against the wall beside the doorway and silently sighed. He didn't know what to do. She was a nuisance, he thought. But somehow…, watching her cry was very hard. It brought a heavy feeling to his chest. He didn't enjoy seeing her cry. That was it. He didn't like seeing her cry. It was as if he could share the pain she felt. Knowing that it was him who had hurt her feelings, had made her cry, made it doubly hard.

Turning away from the door, he silently moved away. He didn't want to be seen here. No, not when he still had things to figure out. Nor did he want to think things over out where he could bump into anyone and risk his or her hearing. No, those things he could only figure out in the sanctity of his quarters, and that was where he set off to.

**********

Jarell arrived at the training hall just as Meia started hitting the punching bags. "Guess you got here first," he remarked as he moved to the bag and started spotting her. Meia grunted as she made another hit.

"Didn't think you'd take much interest in this bag of shit." Another grunt.

Jarod simply smiled. "Our training routines don't normally coincide or we would've met here long before now."

"Guess so," she answered simply before hitting the bag one last time. "Your turn."

Jarod smiled as he took his turn, silently hitting the bags.

They were silent as Jarod finished his routine.

"So, what now?" he asked her casually as they stood next to the water dispenser.

"Got anything else to do?"

Meia pondered his question. She'd seen his moves. It was obvious that he was a skilled fighter. That sparked something competitive in her. She had been sparring with the others who came into this gym, even some of the troopers. Some had been able to hold their own, none had ever beaten her. She wondered if he could.

"You've got some great moves," she finally spoke back to him.

"Ah it was nothing. You get bounced around different assignments a lot, you pick a few things up here and there. You're not so bad yourself." He replied with a sheepish grin.

She smiled at that.

"Care for a spar?"

He stopped to think it over. "Okay."

Her face set as they moved toward the middle of the gym. Jarell's face, on the other hand remained easy even as they agreed upon the rules and began.

Slowly, they circled, probing each other's defenses for gaps. Testing each other with quick punches and kicks. No power behind them, yet, simply experimenting with each other's reflexes and timing.

Finally Meia began with a combination of punches and kicks. Jarell easily parried and dodged, then countered without breaking rhythm. Meia was a bit surprised, but not quite. She jumped back, her guard up, ready to foil any attack he might make. But he didn't press, he simply went back to circling, his face still relaxed. More than a bit annoyed that he didn't seem to be taking her seriously, she went on the offensive again, careful not to repeat the mistake she made earlier. Again he parried and dodged and circled, and generally stayed out of harm's way. And she went after him again, and he defended again. Now she was frustrated, he could see that, but instead of making mistakes, her moves were even tighter than ever, no gaps he could take advantage of. Oh well, it was time he showed her what he could do.

Patiently waiting for the end of this particular attack cycle, he bounced back and then went on the offensive, giving her a few combos that, although inventive, weren't really unstoppable. She just parried and then seized initiative, going for one particularly long combo. His face had, by now, begun to lose its cool, and her onslaught soon yielded a result. Her foot connected with his upper chest. They paused as he was thrown off balance.

"Not bad", he rubbed his chest absently, it wasn't really all that painful, and would not hamper him in any way beyond his stung pride.

She just smiled in return as she prepared to renew their match.

His face serious, he began this time. Attacking with his hands, feet, elbows and knees. Meia, dodged and parried and slipped in with a counter or two, but he did not give up initiative. He continued, breaking and changing the rhythm several times.

Somewhere in the back of Meia's mind, something clicked. I've seen this fighting style before.

They continued the duel. Meia managed to win the initiative a few times, but enjoyed it for only short periods before he seized it back. Finally Jarell lured her with a feint. Pretending to give up initiative, he gave her an opening. She took it, as he expected, and the trap was sprung.

He rolled with her attack, then, as she was disoriented, he grappled and threw her. Then followed through with an elbow. Meia stared, wide-eyed as his elbow stopped centimeters from her face. She was sure now. She had seen that style before. Had seen that particular move, in fact. But back then it hadn't been an elbow. No. Back then it had been a rifle butt, the butt of a rifle that the attacker had seized from her . . .

~Flashback~

A Talark Troopship under attack by pirates

"Sir, they have us. Our Bangatas are no match for their Dreads. Our engines are about to go out. We have no choice but to abandon ship!"

The junior officer advised another junior officer, as was his duty. They were all junior officers. Most of the senior officers had either died or had been badly injured in the pirates' first few attacks. The one in command just happened to have been promoted a few weeks earlier than his colleagues. That made him senior, although they were all, what few of them remained, of equal rank. He also knew something his colleagues did not. The one thing the senior officers had entrusted to him before dying or losing consciousness. Under no circumstances was the ship to fall into enemy hands.

They did not elaborate much, only that the ship was carrying something the Talarks could not afford to have in pirate or Mejaylan hands.

He grunted, then made his decision.

"All hands! Attention! Break out the hand weapons and prepare for close quarters combat. We are about to be boarded. Repeat . . ."

The other officer could only stare in horror as the acting captain repeated his instructions to all hands. How could he gamble their lives like this? He did not understand the danger they were in! They were all gonna die.

"Varoa! Meia! Begin boarding operations. We are right behind you." BC watched in satisfaction as the two pilots led a few other Dreads into the Talark ship's shuttle bay, paving the way for the main force of the pirates. As she disembarked, she gave out orders to the rest.

"Alright! You know what we came here for! Supplies and Information!"

"Aye!" The rest cried out as they fanned out in raiding parties to liberate the aforementioned goods.

"Damn! These men are putting up more of a fight than usual." Varoa said the word as if it was some sort of mangy animal. They had the men cornered in one particular corridor, a solid tactical advantage. There was just one problem, no, two. They were between the pirates and the ship's data core. Also, as far as the men were concerned, they were already dead. Even if they could push this particular group of women back, the entire ship was crawling with them, there was no way anyone was gonna get out without coming up against more of them. Everyone knew of the unspeakable horrors women did to men.

Varoa peeked around the corner and quickly drew back as weapons discharge from the men filled the corridor. As it died off she fired her weapon around the corner, without looking. She was answered with more weapons discharge.

"Blast! It's gonna be awhile before they run out of ammo. Any bright ideas?" Meia and the other pirates with her looked around searching for something they could use. Then she saw it, a maintenance access way.

"Cover me!" Varoa and the others barely had time to fill the corridor with their rifles before Meia darted across. She went straight to the access way and crawled in.

Varoa watched her get in. "This better work," then looked around as the corridor status lights suddenly turned red, and a voice went off announcing the activation of the self-destruct system. There were five minutes to go.

"Oh boy."

It took Meia more than a minute to navigate the crawlways. Finally, she reached an exit, and after a few seconds of listening, opened it to get out. She was in the room beyond the corridor. And, save for a few status lights, it was completely dark in here. Looking around she moved to open the door. If she was right, it would allow her to come up behind the men and take them by surprise. As she reached for the switch to open the door, her instincts tingled. A split second before the roundhouse kick slammed into her belly. The pressure suit cushioned most of the blow, and she quickly dropped into guard position. Belatedly, her eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings and she was able to see her attacker. Barely more than a silhouette in the darkened room, but she could see his form, and what he was about to do. She was too close to fire her weapon.

Raising it like a staff, she attacked. The shadow adroitly dodged her relentless attacks before making his move.

He let her attack once more, then rolled with her attack, and, as she was disoriented, he grappled and threw her. The same maneuver allowed him to seize her rifle from her hands. As she slammed into the wall next to the door he followed through, slamming the rifle's butt into her faceplate.

Meia flinched, closing her eyes, but soon opened them once more. The faceplate hadn't shattered, sparing her from facial wounds. It was however, compromised. Already she could feel her air supply escaping through the huge hole the rifle's butt created. She was now on all fours, working feverishly to tape her faceplate and seal it again. She was surprised, however, that the man wasn't finishing her off. She had heard the loud beep from something in the room just as he had struck her, so she assumed that was what he was here for, and anyway, she was no longer a threat. A door on the opposite side of the room whistled open just as she finished. Deciding not to pursue, she continued with her original objective and caught the men from behind. She linked up with Varoa and the others, who quickly brought her up to speed. They were ordered to evacuate immediately.

Jarell strapped himself in and quickly powered up the Bangata's systems. He was cutting it a bit close, no thanks to that woman. As it was, he'd only have a few seconds to spare before everything went to hell.

He patted the portable memory core in his chest pocket. He almost didn't get it out. It carried sensitive data that was meant for other Talark line units all over the system, and his job had been to protect it, a mission so sensitive not even the ship's commanders had known of his presence. It had been encrypted and erased, that was what had taken him so long, but even so, some experts could still get something out of it. Which meant that the physical form of the memory core itself had to be removed in order to insure that no one got anything.

Finally all status lights except thrusters blinked green. Those would take a while to warm up. He moved the Bangata out of its berth to a weapons rack where he selected a pair of hand scythes. Thrusters came online just in time. To bad he couldn't use the catapult, he'd just have to content himself with manual launch. Opening up the throttle to maximum he barreled down the launch way.

Even at full power, a Bangata had no hope of outrunning a Dread. Jarell knew that as soon as he exited the Troopship he would show on every pirate sensor screen as target practice. Which was why he'd rigged something to even things up.

Gascogne saw the Bangata on her ovoid registry ship's sensors. Unbelievable. What in hell was this one planning? Standard tactical options were run, hide and fight. All three were impossible. She alerted the Dreads still in outrider formation.

"Outrider Dreads, you know what to do."

A pity. The Bangata pilot sure had spunk. More spunk than she had seen in any man for a long time.

Jarell checked his bearings. Since the Troopship had been trying to get away from the pirates, the pirate ship was aft. The Bangata launch bay he'd come from faced forward, so he was not in any danger from the pirate ship's weapons. Yet. There were still Dreads to contend with. But not for long.

He was almost in position. He reached into a chest pocket and removed a hand held device. He stared at the ship's chrono and silently watched the seconds count down. The Dreads were getting closer, some were even slowing down so as to get a really good shot. It took nerves of steel not to panic, but his timing had to be really good if he was to make it out. He checked one last time, if his plan worked out none of the Dreads would be in any position to do anything.

The chrono blinked zero, as did the nav computer. Jarell pushed a button on the remote detonator and one of the forward antiship torpedoes blasted off. This particular one's warhead had been removed, getting rid of what would be, for his purposes, useless baggage. What he needed was its velocity, exactly what he needed to outrun the Dreads. As the torpedo passed by his position, he swung out with a hand sickle, and got a kick in the butt as the Bangata was unceremoniously caught up with the out of control pod.

The Dreads were caught flatfooted. More than one collision warning pinged as pandemonium erupted in the wake of the pod's passing. Most of the Dread pilots righted their ships easily enough, but none were in any position to give chase.

As reports of what happened came in, Gascogne smiled in spite of her self. Yes. The Bangata pilot sure had spunk.

~end flashback~

Meia stood up and challenged Jarell again. No more games. Jarell sensed the change in Meia's mood and nodded correspondingly. They had each won a round. It was time to break the tie and decide this match.

The fight was furious, both fighters pushing themselves and their skills to the limit. Punch, parry, counterpunch, dodge, kick. It went on for minutes as neither gained an advantage. They grappled, rolling and tackling each other all over the floor.

Finally Jarell managed to pin Meia down. And kept her down.

She struggled a bit before giving in. They stared into each other's eyes. Both frozen by the primal experience they had just shared. Then without a word they released each other.

**********

BC checked her calculations one last time. Then called up an entirely different set of star charts. These were old, from the Pre-colonization survey, dating back to at least a generation before the colonization ships set out from Earth.

Back then, remote probe ships had set out, making rudimentary star charts and marking out routes and systems or locations where human habitations could be set up. It would be up to the colonization fleet that was to follow to confirm that. Because of their age, and the rather broad parameters set into those probes, these star charts were no longer relied upon, except when they could be compared with newer astrogational data. Unfortunately, reliable astrogational data had just run out.

The only things left that could give an even remote idea of where they were were the older ones. And according to the old data, they should be coming up to a `probable' just a few lightyears ahead.

A chrono pinged, and BC nodded. Morning shift was about to start, and Bart should be coming on duty. It was time to point him in what was hopefully the right direction.