17-Feb-2004
Title: The Longest Dream: Part 20
C&C appreciated!
Archive: GW Addiction at http://www.gwaddiction.com
I know, it's been a long time....gomen nasai! Hopefully there are still a few people who even remember this fic--it's the latest part to the Fic-That-Never-Ends...namely my Xenogears/GW crossover. I'm still waiting on Masamune's final edit, so please forgive any lingering mistakes. Anyway, I hope that this part will make up for how long I've been taking...
*tosses fic to the masses and runs*
Legal stuff: None of these characters are mine. Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and Sotsu Agency, among others--Xenogears belongs to Squaresoft. For time-wasting purposes only and not for profit, so don't sue, 'kay?
Warnings: Violence and AU, angst, plus the occasional bout of psychosis. OOC-ness is entirely in the eyes of the beholder!
It wasn't a scene out of Sigurd's worst nightmares, but it was close.
Dead Wels were piled gracelessly up against hills and over the edges of craters, burned and bloodied by cannon fire. Their blood had puddled into the churned-up ground, turning it into a stinking swampy mess that showed all too clearly the deep imprints of Gears-and far too many than could be explained. The signs of a pitched battle were obvious, but who had won was far less easy to determine, and searchers scattered out under the watchful guard of deployed Aveh sentries, slogging through the mud and rock to find any human bodies among the mass of nonhuman remains.
Jessie kicked at the charred corpse of a Wels in disgust. "How the hell did we not see this coming?" He scanned the cratered ravine, rifle canted over one shoulder and ready for any stragglers. When no movement could be seen, save for the slow eddies of smoke over the mounded bodies and the slow pace of the searchers, his gaze reluctantly returned to the clawed, misshapen body at his feet.
Citan shook his head, hands folded into tunic sleeves. "We made the mistake of underestimating Nicklay, I'm afraid. We didn't realize how fast he could move." He frowned as he watched a grim-faced Sigurd coordinate the search. "And now we must deal with the consequences."
"At least they haven't found any Gear remains yet," Jessie muttered fiercely, knuckles white around the brizewood stock of the rifle. "But if they've been taken prisoner...Billy..."
"Actually, out of all of them Billy may be the safest. He has to be treated like a citizen after all, given his Solarian heritage." Citan glanced pointedly at the silver-platinum hair that marked his friend as unmistakably Solarian--a trait shared by both father and son. "But I am afraid that Nicklay's prejudices will not be so kind to the others...and if he manages to figure out who Duo and Trowa really are, I cannot even venture a guess as to how he will react."
"Before or after he tortures them for every scrap of information they have?" Jessie retorted. "And you know it's only a matter of time before Fei goes in after Bart--even if he has to throw Xenogears into the middle of Neo-Kislev to do it. He knows what Nicklay is capable of."
Citan's frown deepened. "As much as I would love to cheer him on, I hope it doesn't come to that. Such a scenario could only end badly, I fear."
Jessie growled softly at the thought. "Bad idea or not, it still might be our only chance. Nicklay has Nortune forted up almost as much as Solaris ever was, and it would take an armada to crack it open."
"An armada we don't have," Sigurd interjected wearily. His footsteps crunched on the broken rock as he walked up the hill to join them, frustrated anger visible in every line of his body. "But we can't afford *not* to attack. As much as Bart would deny it, he is still the king in the minds of the people, and Aveh will fall without him." He smeared the back of a sooty hand across his forehead. "We have to get him back."
Citan gave him a small, ironic smile, watching a trio of bristling and determined pilots stalk out of the Yggdrasil and head in their direction. "I don't think you're the only one who feels that way, my friend." He laid a supportive hand on Sigurd's shoulder. "Don't forget--Xenogears is not the only thing Kislev has to contend with. Not anymore."
"Oh, fuuuuuuuuuck...." Duo moaned, using his knees and elbows to scrape himself up from the floor. "I thought I was done with all this shit." He looked over, picking out the others in the dimly lit holding cell. "You guys all right?"
"Mrphl." Bart rolled onto his back, scowling at the layered steel of the ceiling. "Couldn't be better."
"Same here," Trowa added. He frowned slightly, shuffling on his knees over to` where Billy lay against one wall. "Billy?"
" ...fine." Billy's face was dead-white in the gloom, his eyes squinted shut in pain. His gasps echoed against the bare metal walls. "--'ll... be fine... "
"Like hell." Trowa said coolly, looking him over with a veteran's jaundiced eye. "Looks like you hit your ribs again. Broken?"
" ... think... so."
"Shit. I'm sorry, Billy," Bart muttered, squinting over in his friend's direction. "This is all my fault."
"Hey, why are you just apologizing to him? There are a couple other people here who could use some groveling also, y'know." Duo's grin had a wry edge to it as he wandered around the cell perimeter, examining it for weaknesses. "Just when I'd managed to kick the prisoner of war schtick, too. Thanks for making me fall off the wagon."
"Don't listen to him," Trowa advised, giving Duo a sideways glance. "He likes getting caught. It gets him all sorts of attention." He rolled to his feet with the ease of an acrobat, unhampered by his manacled hands.
"Psah. You're just cranky because you finally managed to get thrown in with the rest of us peons." Duo stopped by Billy and helped prop him upright against the wall. "Shhh... don't tell, but Trowa's a jail virgin," he announced in a stage whisper.
Bart let out a startled guffaw, face turning red as he snickered. Billy managed to produce the ghost of a smile. "Always... good to know," he said softly, in between short, hitched breaths.
Duo nodded, satisfied, and wandered back over to the other side of the cell. He slid down, butt against the wall, until he sat shoulder to shoulder with Bart. "So... how badly are we fucked?" he asked quietly.
"Pretty bad." Bart made no attempt to lower his voice. "Assume full surveillance--they're big on that. And the fact that we're scum-sucking Lambs is going to make it worse. The rules don't apply to us." He glanced sideways, his meaning clear.
"Just ducky." Duo growled softly under his breath. It was damn near impossible to plan an escape if the bad guys were listening to every word they said. And the longer they waited, the worse their situation was going to get. The subtle vibrations of metal told them that the ship they'd been shoved onto was still moving at high speed, and no doubt moving deeper into Kislev territory by the minute.
"Duo," Trowa called softly. When he had his fellow pilot's attention, he switched from Lambspeak to English. "Think they'll get the gist of what we're nattering on about now? Capice?"
Trowa's sudden descent into archaic slang threatened to make Duo's eyebrows jump right off his head. Then they lowered, and he began to grin evilly. "Roger that, buddy. Somethin' tells me these sojer-boys won't have a clue." If he could have rubbed his hands together, he would have. "Time to pull the wool over their eyes."
"Huh?" Bart looked back and forth between the two Gundam pilots, completely bewildered. "What the--" he broke off as Duo's elbow made sharp contact with his ribs.
Duo pulled their heads together, switching to Lambspeak long enough to hiss, "Just follow our lead." Then, slouching back against the well, he turned his attention to Trowa.
"All right, we gotta pull this off fast, before they decide to break up our little conference call. It's looking like we've got the ship's crew plus an extra platoon or so of Mobile Suited flyboys. They threw us in so fast I couldn't get a good idea of where everyone was, but I didn't spot anything but crew-types and a few guards in the halls. You?"
Trowa frowned, thinking hard. "I've seen a few specs--they'll no doubt head straight for their HQ. They can probably make it there without gassing up, but they'll be running on fumes by the time they're ready to land. Making a break for it while they're over the city would be our best bet--much easier to play hide n' seek with Mobile Suits that way. Which means... " he did some fast calculating, "... at top speed, we've probably got a little less than a half hour."
"Sensible--but how do we crack this tiger cage, genius?" Duo's eyes flickered around the bare confines of their prison. "Even I can't pick a lock I can't get at."
"A definite problem," Trowa admitted, still frowning. Silence descended for a few minutes as he thought--then lifted his hands in a shrug. "Sorry, I'm drawing a blank."
"Jail virgin," Duo accused, grinning. "Fine... just lie back and let big daddy do all the work." His eyes slid sideways, and he gave Bart a thoughtful look. "Trowa--out of our motley lot, who do you think is their prize pistachio?"
Trying to imagine Bart as a nut, and failing, Trowa gave Duo a dirty look. "That's a no-brainer."
"Exactamente. And what do you think they'd do if their little pistachio was about to get cracked?"
"Are *you* cracked?" Trowa snapped. "Why would we--? Oh." He chewed on a lip thoughtfully, turning the idea over.
"Yup." Duo gave him an odd half-grimace, half-smirking smile. "'The play's the thing... '"
"Please don't butcher Shakespeare. It makes my head hurt."
"My bad." Duo smirked, unrepentant. "If we can pull it off, though, we should be able to fight our way to a lifeboat." He cast his eyes ceilingward. "By the graces of the great god Murphy, that is."
"I still don't like it... but I can't put anything better on the table," Trowa muttered. He cracked his knuckles absently. "Who does the dirty deed?"
"That would be little ol' me. I've got the reach." Duo's grin didn't reach his eyes. "Hopefully he'll forgive me for it afterward."
"What did you say?"
Heero's voice was glacial, and the room instantly seemed to drop to near-arctic temperatures under that narrowed blue stare. Quatre and Wufei flanked him, grim-faced, coiled, and ready to strike at any target which presented itself.
Sigurd spared a moment to be thankful that this confrontation had not happened on the bridge, under the fascinated eyes of his crew. Watching one's commanding officer being cornered by three pilots almost half his age had to be bad for ship morale. As it was, his embarrassment was limited to Citan, Jessie, and Maison--and whoever managed to have their ears pressed to the door.
"I said that Bart, Billy, Trowa and Duo have apparently been captured by Neo-Kislev," he repeated, clinging to his fraying patience with a determination born of necessity. "We've searched, but found no signs of either the Gears they took... or their bodies."
"How did this happen? And what happened to your perimeter watch?" Wufei leaned forward, bristling. "Don't tell me your men were too incompetent to notice an entire *airship* flying over their heads?"
"That accusation is unfair," Sigurd replied, scowling. "We *had* a watch stationed, but it was sabotaged by our mysterious traitor."
"Who, I might add, is not quite so mysterious any more," Citan put in. Playing peacemaker was a tricky thing when emotions were running this high. Still, he felt obligated to try. "He was forced to reveal himself in order to pull this off, and we now know who he is."
"Broyer," Jessie hissed, fists clenched. That Wels-spawned bastard would die slowly if he had anything to say about it.
Quatre stepped in, eyes hard. "Your traitor is now irrelevant, as are accusations, fair or not. We no longer care about your political expediencies. Right now this war has simplified itself down to one very simple mission objective for us--retrieve our friends. Since Billy and Bart have been taken as well, I assume you will help us in this." The flatness of his tone made it clear that this was not a request.
"Of course." Sigurd's singular blue gaze met and clashed with Quatre's, neither one inclined to give an inch. With icy politeness, he continued, "So. How do you suggest we free four hostages out of a heavily fortified and armed city? A city whose military forces outnumber ours at least three to one?"
"Three to one? Is that all?" Quatre watched Sigurd's face darken, then continued a little more gently, "I'm not making fun of you, Sigurd--you're right. We'd never succeed with a full frontal assault. I think we need to be a little more unconventional." He gave Sigurd a cold little smile, tinged with an odd note of regret. "Our enemies claimed we weren't soldiers, but terrorists. They may have been right. When it comes to waging war--we don't necessarily fight fair." He could feel Wufei and Heero's agreement without looking. They had all fought too long, and come too far. Trowa and Duo would not be left rotting in some petty dictator's prison.
"We've been doing this for a long time, the five of us. We're very good at it." He paused, then added regretfully, "I can only hope that we will be better at waging peace when all this is over."
Sigurd watched him narrowly, reading the things left unsaid. "Dealing with peace will be something we will all have to learn, I think. We've been fighting for too long." His eyes searched Quatre's face. "But that is for the future. There will be no peace unless we stop Nicklay, here and now."
He turned away, giving Citan and Jessie a grim smile. "So you'll forgive me if I hope that the five of you are as dangerous as you claim to be."
It was deja vu all over again.
Listening to Bart's weakening gasps, feeling his body flail instinctively under Duo's choke hold--it was a queasily familiar situation. The only change being the utter shocked betrayal in Bart's eyes, a look Duo found he did not like at all.
Trowa was restraining a feebly struggling Billy, his face grim. There had been no way to warn the two Aveh natives of their plan--no winks or head nods that wouldn't give the game away. Instead, Duo had rolled to his knees, facing Bart fully and looking him in the eye. Willing him to understand, even as Duo played for their invisible audience.
"Forgive me, my liege. But this is for the best."
Duo hadn't even been able to laugh at the shocked look on Bart's face; instead, the two of them had simply moved, lunging for their targets with lethal and synchronized speed. Bart had managed only an abortive '--hey!' before Duo had wrapped an arm around his throat and swept him to the ground; Billy not even that much.
Choking someone to death took a certain amount of time, Duo knew--something he was banking on. He held on grimly through the reflexive thrashing, carefully restraining his strength, sensitive ears trained for any break in the rhythm of Bart's thumping heart. It would be pretty damn embarrassing to accidentally kill his friend just because their supposed jailers were taking a bathroom break, after all. Unfortunately, that didn't make being choked any more pleasant for said friend.
The floor vibrated subtly, and Duo tensed as he picked up the sound of running feet--hard bootheels, multiple sets, pounding down the hall towards them. He glanced over at Trowa, mouth set in a thin line. Trowa gave a tiny nod--he heard it too.
Showtime.
The door opened with an abrupt clank and guards rushed in, ready to break apart their impromptu assassination--only to be met by a surprise. Duo unwrapped his arm from Bart--leaving him gasping on the floor--and charged to meet them with surprising speed. The first guard had barely gotten five steps in before Duo slammed a shoulder into his knees, clubbing him unconscious with bound hands as the man folded in on himself. The second in was stunned unconscious by the first guard's weapon, and a swift punch to the solar plexus sent him reeling backwards, blocking the doorway open.
Guards three and four went down just as fast, their slow overconfidence no match for Duo's enhanced speed. The fifth guard, a burly and stone-faced individual, proved to be more of a problem. He pushed Duo back, taking several nasty hits to the head without even slowing down, and Duo found himself hard-pressed to keep his feet. Several seconds later Trowa provided a solution--in the form of another confiscated stun-rod applied to the back of the neck--and the man collapsed sprawling across the floor.
Duo gave the guard's body a boot to the side, then began rifling pockets. A few seconds search yielded the passkey to their manacles, and he quickly unlocked his wrists before tossing them to Trowa. "Here." Grabbing a second key, he moved over to Bart.
Bart glared upwards, still wheezing, as Duo began to uncuff him. "... you're gonna... . *gasp*... pay for this." The manacles clanged to the floor, and he pushed himself up with shaky arms.
Wrapping a hand around Bart's upper arm, Duo hauled him upright and handed him one of the confiscated guns. "Yeah, yeah--kill me later. Run now." A quick glance over showed that Billy had also been freed and was stumbling for the door, one arm slung over Trowa's shoulder for support.
Joining them at the jammed-open cell door, Duo and Bart took point, hopping over the bodies and flattening themselves against the walls of the corridor. A quick glance up and down showed only a near-featureless expanse of green-gray hallway, complete with a near-complete lack of anything resembling helpful signage. As Trowa and Billy brought up the rear, Duo glanced over at Bart, and snapped, "Lifeboats. Which way?"
"Um--" Bart looked up and down the corridor, pistol at the ready. "Down that way. I think... "
"Good enough," Duo remarked. "Let's go before they set off the--" The alarm sirens went off. "Shit!"
"Time to go!" Bart charged down the corridor, Duo at his shoulder. There was no time for caution now, and Bart went through the first intersection of corridors without even slowing down, checking signs as he went. "We need to get up out of the brig--the lifeboat hatches will be up on the main deck!" he threw back over his shoulder. "That's where it's gonna get nasty."
"Don't go borrowing trouble before it happens, kemosabe." Duo's face was grim. He took point as they charged up the stairs, trusting in his senses to warn him of any ambush. Catching a bare flicker of movement near the top, he flattened against the metal mesh of the steps, pulling Bart down with him as shots cratered the wall above their heads. Bart hissed a curse as he crouched at Duo's heels. "This is not good... "
"On the contrary," Trowa said, and moved smoothly past, taking the last few stairs in one silent rush. He dived into the hallway in a blur of speed, tucking and rolling across the open space before thudding against the opposite wall, gun out--and Duo stepped around the corner and dropped the three distracted Kislev soldiers with a single shot apiece.
"Show off," Bart muttered, helping Billy up the stairs. He scooped up the close-range rifle out of the limp hands of a corpse and handed it back to their resident marksman. "Here, Billy. Think you could do some damage?"
Billy checked the load, slammed the clip back home, and shot him a nasty look. "Of course." His show of bravado was marred only by the pinched set of his lips and the fine sheet of sweat across his face, Duo noticed--but they had no choice. He glanced over to where Bart was searching the other corpses and growling in frustration. Duo smirked a little--he knew what Bart was looking for, and doubted he would find it. Whips weren't exactly standard issue for a Kislev grunt--which probably made the fact that Bart's own weapons had been confiscated doubly annoying.
Duo waited until Bart had joined their little huddle at the end of the corridor, then asked, "Where to?"
Bart had to think for a minute. "Assuming this ship is your standard cruiser... three corridors down and a hatchway up should lead us to 'em." He glanced back for confirmation, and Billy nodded.
"All right. Let's do this fast and ballsy." Duo slipped around the corner, running lightly down the corridor. Trowa dropped back to guard their flank, knowing the two Aveh natives risked being left behind otherwise, while Bart hung on grimly at Duo's shoulder, focused and ready. They would only get one chance at this... and they had to make it count.
"Fei?"
Elly approached slowly, trying not to show her unease. It had been almost a full day since the capture of their friends. Unnoticed by the others, Fei had said barely three words put together, withdrawing from the frantic preparations to stand a silent vigil on the foredeck of the Yggdrasil. Trying to push her own guilt aside, Elly placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. Muscles twitched uneasily under her fingers, almost flinching away from the caress. "Are you all right?"
"You know--I could still catch them if I wanted." Fei never turned his gaze away from the northern horizon.
Elly frowned. The currents of emotion that swirled around Fei were strong, almost visible in their intensity: anxiety, sure enough, and frustration... but trumping them all was a seeping, slowly rising anger, tingeing every emotion and saturating the air. She moved closer, sliding her arms around him and resting her cheek against the strong planes of his back, trying to reassure him with her presence. "You wouldn't be able to reach them before they crossed over into Kislev, Fei. With all the airships around Nortune... even with Xenogears you'd never get through."
Fei stood stiffly in her loose embrace. "I'm not so sure about that." His voice was calm and cold.
" ...Fei?" Elly stepped around to face him, searching his eyes. What she saw there was not reassuring. Fei was at heart a simple man, and still young. Sometimes she forgot how he often saw the world only in black and white, right and wrong--how much he *had* to, for his own protection.
"Nicklay wants Neo-Kislev to be a new Solaris. He'll torture Bart for information, and then put him on display to prove it. But it isn't."
"Fei, listen to me. Sigurd and the others are working on a rescue." Elly fought to keep her voice even, hands gripping harder at his tunic.
"It's weak. They have no dimensional shields. Only a few pitiful airships and other assorted cannon fodder." The words were outwardly neutral. But she could feel a rising wave of eagerness underneath them, a dark devouring malice. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but it felt like Fei was turning cold under her hands--walking away without even moving. Her voice turned pleading and desperate.
"We'll save Bart and the others, Fei. This isn't necessary--you'll have the Gundams to back you up."
"Backup." Fei laughed, the sound harsh, as if ripped from his throat. "I destroyed Elru, you know."
"Fei... "
"I destroyed Solaris."
"Fei!"
"I could crack Kislev like an egg."
"Don't!" Elly's voice cracked, and she wrapped herself around him fiercely. "Don't do this to me--don't leave me behind!" Her fists clenched against his back, and she bent her head against his chest, refusing to look at those eyes any longer. "It was my stupid fault they were captured, Fei! Mine! Broyer was a member of *my* squad--it wasn't your fault!" She choked on her guilt, tears leaving salty tracks down her cheeks. "I'll make it right, Fei--we'll save them, I promise. Just don't... .don't leave me behind."
Minutes ticked by in silence. Then slowly, tentatively, Fei's hands rose, smoothing over her back. "I'm sorry, Elly. I just--" he whispered, face softening. Tensed muscles uncoiled, and he bent his head over hers, kissing her hair. He took a deep, cleansing breath, then another. "It's just so hard to wait."
"I know, Fei. I wish there was some other way. But... " She closed her eyes in shame at her own weakness. {{I'm greedy. I won't let you go alone... because you might never come back to me.}}
Murphy, Duo decided, needed a serious ass-kicking.
Leaning around the corner, he cracked off a few more shots, taking down two soldiers and winging a third. He caught a glimpse of the man being dragged back behind an improvised barricade, and he grimaced. Right about now he wished they had managed to find some tear gas, grenades... .hell, a beam rifle would be nice, as long as he was making wishes.
They'd managed to cut their way up to the main deck just by being faster and more ruthless than anything the ship's crew could throw at them. Kislev's vaunted surveillance aside, these Kislev soldiers were almost as slow as any Ozzie he'd ever known, and just as predictable. Bart had also surprised him. The blond ex-pirate had moved with a speed that almost matched Duo's own, and if he wasn't quite as good a shot, he more than made up for it in sheer bloody-mindedness, rushing in to grapple hand-to-hand with an experience born of years spent pirating in the desert. And where Bart's recklessness would have proved fatal, Billy's eagle eye was there. His injuries had slowed him down, but hadn't affected his aim, his rifle taking down any attackers with the sureness of an avenging angel. Trowa was his silent and lethal self, shoring up Billy's flank, and in a surprisingly short amount of time the four of them had managed to coalesce into a deadly fighting unit as they battled their way to the lifeboats.
Then, only fifty yards away from their goal, their luck changed.
The first volley of gunfire caught them completely by surprise. There had been no sounds of movement, no clattering of men moving into position--no warning at all. Just the sudden *crack* of gunfire, turning the corridor into a deadly trap. They dove for safety, leaping blindly for whatever cover could be found. Duo fetched hard up against a recessed hatchway, cursing, while Trowa leaped for a large section of piping in the ceiling, curling himself upward and wedging himself into its meager cover. Bart added a few choice words of his own as he darted back for the intersection they'd just left, and Billy scrambled in the same direction, trying to return fire--
--then jerked, falling forward, bright blood spraying against the bulkhead as a shot tore through his shoulder.
"Billy!" Bart lunged, trying to catch his friend, and a fresh volley of gunshots answered his shout, whining as they richocheted past in the narrow confines of the corridor. He fired back blindly, trying to create an opening. "Karsted bastards! Billy, can you hear me?" There was a brief gap in the firing, and Trowa seized the opportunity almost before it appeared, swinging down and vaulting across the open space. He sacrificed safety for speed on the landing, tucking and rolling as Duo and Bart laid down covering fire. Skidding to the wounded man's side with more haste than grace, Trowa gathered Billy up with one arm and manhandled him around into the side corridor as the Kislev soldiers renewed their efforts.
Looking at those glassy blue eyes as Billy sagged into Bart's arms, for a brief, horrible moment Duo was convinced that they were too late. Then Billy blinked, squinting in pain as Trowa roughly applied pressure to his shoulder. Bart gently pried the blood-smeared rifle from his friend's white-knuckled grip. "Stay with us, Billy." Bart grinned, trying to cover up his fear. "We're still getting out of here, so just hang on, okay?"
Billy nodded shakily, and Trowa looked grim. Palming a confiscated knife, he ripped off the bottom part of his tunic, folding it into a pad and pressing it hard against the wound. The rough field dressing did little to stem the blood that continued to soak into the younger man's coat.
"... .fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK." Duo watched helplessly, still pinned down at the opposite side of the corridor. Flattened against the bulkhead as he was, he could hear the rhythmic vibration of running feet through the metal--this time coming from behind them. It would only be a matter of minutes before reinforcements arrived, and then they really *could* kiss their collective asses goodbye. His fingers clenched around the unyielding butt of the gun. Assuming they lived even that long. He glanced out into the corridor again and gritted his teeth in frustration. So close! Only a few more yards and they would have made it... a shot whizzed by his ear, and he hastily ducked backwards.
Bart's hand slipped on the stock of the gun, Billy's blood smearing his fingers. Looking down, Bart folded them inwards, slamming his fist against the wall in frustration. There seemed to be no way out of this. His eyes followed the wall upward--then narrowed. They'd come this far--and he'd be damned if they'd give up now!
Teeth clenched, he stepped out into the corridor, and fired--straight at the coolant pipes running along the ceiling. "Take THAT, you bastards!"
Coolant spewed everywhere, fogging up the hallway with bitterly cold fumes. The gunfire faltered as clouds of acrid gas billowed outward, concealing the corridor in a bluish-white mist. Discarding the rifle, Bart heaved Billy up into his arms. "Run for it!"
Trowa didn't need to be told twice. He plunged forward into the fog without hesitation, ignoring the continued scattered shots that whizzed by blindly. Bart followed on his heels, giving directions. "Past the second door--the hatches will be to your left!" He coughed and skidded, almost going to one knee as he fought for traction on the slick floor. "Duo!"
"Coming!" There was a rattle of gunfire behind them, and a black shadow flickered through the mist. Ahead of them, Trowa had flattened himself against one wall, feeling along with his fingers. The 'emergency' symbols, designed to be obvious, were easy to read even through the haze, and he grunted in satisfaction as probing fingers found a recessed handle.
"Got it!" He twisted down and pulled, and was rewarded by the hiss of releasing seals. A second heave pulled the door open, revealing the cramped oval interior of a lifeboat. "It's open--let's go!"
Acrid fumes burning his throat, Bart coughed and nodded. Billy was a deadweight, head lolling limply against one shoulder as Bart hitched him up higher in his arms, trying to make his way over the treacherous floor. He flinched as a dark form reared up through the fog, feet sliding as he tried to duck--and a sure hand caught his elbow, propping him up. Duo grinned at him, eyes squinted against the chemical haze. "I think I've had enough fun for one day. What about you?"
Bart nodded again, not trusting his voice. No words were necessary anyway. The haze was starting to clear, enough that he could see the strain on Duo's face... and then he saw the masked form rear up behind him, stunrod already coming down.
"Duo! Watch out--" Duo reflexively ducked, turned--but seconds too late. The stunrod crashed down against one ear with bone-shattering force, sending him flying against the wall. The blank faceplate of the gas mask concealed the soldier's face, but there was no mistaking the vicious speed behind the attack. Or the nature of the shots that followed, as Duo struggled to stand--two rounds, delivered at close range with deliberate precision.
Duo fell without a word, face twisted in pain. With a hoarse incoherent roar of rage, Bart body-blocked the man from behind, the deadweight in his arms throwing him off-balance and sending them both skidding across the slick floor. He fell to one knee, stumbling over the fallen Kislev trooper as more masked forms advanced through the haze, and a fresh volley of shots whined overhead, cratering the wall and the floor. Bart flattened himself over the limp bodies of his two friends, hands and face smeared with their blood, and looked down to meet a pair of hazy blue eyes. Duo's mouth twitched in a slight grimace, his fingers clenching convulsively at his chest.
" ...sorry. Didn't see... " His gaze slid to one side, and Bart followed it to where Trowa was pinned down next to the open hatch. Sliding a hand to cover Duo's, Bart gave him a bare nod, mouth flattened into a thin line. Billy and Duo were down--wounded, and probably dying... Bart pinned down along with them. Escape, for them, would be impossible--but maybe not for Trowa.
Bart squeezed his eyes shut. Then he raised his head, trying to catch Trowa's eye even as he yelled, "Trowa! Go!" A vicious kick caught him in the side, and he curled against the pain, his voice hitching. "Get out of here!"
Trowa hesitated, frozen for one endless moment of indecision--then he grabbed the lip of the lifepod, and threw himself inside. The hatch slammed shut, bolts locking into place.
Bart watched troopers pound at the now-shut hatch to the pod, and whispered, "Too late, you bastards." With a sharp explosion of docking pins, the pod launched itself out into the sky. The Kislev soldiery threw themselves back against the walls of the corridor, dropping weapons and scrabbling for handholds against the sudden sucking outrush of air, and Bart smiled viciously.
"Way too late."
End Part 20
(:./hope/dream20)
