I guess I’m vain enough to write a preface now, har har har. This is my second commission my first being a prelude for Sinjid: Shadow of the Warrior, a flash game made by a friend of mine. However this is the first one in which money was involved. It however was against my principles to write fanfiction but it was something the person who commissioned this work, henceforth known as the client since commissioner does not sound right, requested it. Capitalism wins. Funny thing really, I was only just commenting on my client’s written works wherein he had got himself the funny idea of having me write for him. The rest, as you know was history. There was much procrastination but in the end, since I had already received the money upfront, I had to hold my end of the deal. It was tailored to the tastes of my client and is not meant to please a general audience. I still tried my best.
))
Cease and Desist
The United Nations Federal Force, an international, some would venture interplanetary, armed force which was meant to eliminate criminal elements so that order may be brought to chaos. That was what they did and still do. Ever since that quantum leap in technology that made near instantaneous interplanetary travel possible, the Federal Force was no longer restricted to the third rock from the Sun. Deployment was swift, and with surgical precision, it would be over shortly after their arrival. It was not long before the criminal elements went into hiding from this new lethal weapon.
Those too that policed the universe had approached these upstart whippersnappers, preventing them from operating outside their home planet. They were known as the Time and Space Administration Bureau. Galactic, nay, history on the scale of the universe itself was shaped by the TSAB as far back as their founding. Despite these hurdles, eventually the UNFF proved itself time and time again. They had their supporters as well as their detractors, the latter outnumbering the former. Surely it was a mystery to the rest of the universe, how was it that a planet, who was still undergoing development of secondary industries as the TSAB was founded, this would be after the period known as the Industrial Revolution on Earth , arrive to have such an efficient global police force in such a short time? Jealousy was at work and once again, in the lull of criminal activities, Major General Karl Heinemann, the head of the UNFF Army Special Forces Command, would receive something unpleasant on his desk. It was a simple cease and desist order from the Time and Space Administration Bureau. Again, the political war waged in the shadows reared its ugly head and dragged the 47 year old general into the crossfire. He skimmed it, picking out the important bits before deciding to discuss this with high command, who surely had received a similar letter as well. He rose from his desk and made his way around the base underneath
“Cease the usage of mass-driver weaponry with in their jurisdiction? What kind of joke is this?” asked one of the Chiefs Of Staff.
“Well now that’s an interesting take on neutralising terrorists. We’ll just have to go medieval on their asses,” this was Heinemann.
“At least they recognise that we have to play by their rules. That’s a start,” the Supreme Commander added, trying to calm them.
“What kind of nut outlaws the use of guns? We haven’t got their magic,” responded another.
“It’s not magic. After all, any sufficiently sophisticated amount of technology should be indistinguishable to magic. They’ve just been reticent about sharing with us. I think I can use this to procure us better equipment. In case you haven’t noticed, they have already progressed to using raw energy as a weapon. A bullet proof vest might as well be a sheet of A4.”
There was not much to discuss beyond that point. Short of developing highly efficient, high yield, man portable lasers, the Federal Force was once again, restricted to Earth.
Visitor
Earth, also known as Terra was a planet supporting life, formed around a medium sized star known as Sol, locally as the Sun. It was still a primitive planet and that was why the Time and Space Administration Bureau had not exerted their jurisdiction here, as it not developed enough to join the intergalactic organisation on its own two feet. Nothing changed even when the Earthers, a universal derogative for the dominant species known as H. sapiens developed something no other planet had before. It was the practical application of quantum teleportation. At first they could only transport molecules short distances at great cost, however, after a few years, research in that field exploded. The results were beyond expectations, and even after a few accidents, teleportation was the new mass public transit system. The ICE was scrapped and thus saving themselves of having to deal with the effects of global warming. Two birds with one stone. Earth was indeed a curious planet.
It wasn’t until a select few started venturing off-planet did things turn ugly. Though most of the Earthers didn’t know, their own United Nations had committed off world atrocities in the name of justice. Justice, something that the Earthers valued apparently, meant going in, killing everyone and leaving those who were left behind to sort out the mess. This really had ticked off the Time and Space Administration Bureau. Earthers were surprisingly short-sighted when it came to foresight. The Bureau tried to limit their actions, so as not disturb the balance but everything had its limit. They even used crude mass-driver weaponry; quite barbaric of them too. So far, only the United Nations, and most likely the leaders on the Security Council as well, knew about the existence of the Bureau, which at the very least was a good thing. Even some of the Bureau members were citizens of Earth. An outstanding example would be the Ace and Air Combat Instructor, Captain Takamachi. The report went on and Noir Lagonne had had just about enough of it. Another bunch of people who thought they were heroes, but, in a sense he understood why. He was a native of Earth too.
Having been deposited in
Reconnaissance
Lights and computer screens were flashing, a rare moment when the CIA was on full alert.
“There you are you bastard, thought you’d pop up in
The alerts and alarms were going off in everyone’s head and the agency had runners and phone calls going off. The man who appeared on the screen didn’t look outstanding in anyway, though they all knew he an international freelance agent provocateur. It was similar to what the KGB did back during the Cold War, supporting their communist comrades with funds and information. Most of them were well-intentioned extremists, so much that they were labelled terrorists by the media. Well, that was extremism for you.
“So, where are we faxing this info to, Ops couldn’t possibly handle this one, doubt the Brits can do any better either,” the techie said to the Director of Operations behind him.
“We’re taking this to the UNFF. They should be able to bag him for us.”
“Don’t we want him alive though?”
“Alive, if practical, dead, just as good.”
“If you say so boss.”
Soon enough it was being printed off a fax machine in
“How important is he you reckon, Colonel?”
“
“They want him dead, or alive, if practical, he must be something. First of all, what we do know is probably outdated as hell right now so I want a recon team on him as soon as possible.”
“Tom Houston and Gilles Lafayette are already on their way sir. Preparations are being made and the Chinese government are being quite cooperative with us this time so we should be able to set up six hours after arrival.”
“It’s never overkill is it?” it was a rhetorical question.
“Never is sir, and probably never will be.”
They were right a few hours later the Three Gorges Dam was shaken by a rushing torrent of water caused by a mysterious landslide up river. Gilles and Tom were halfway up the valley wall before it happened on the valley wall opposite to them. They set up right away in the wooded area. Gilles was the spotter, Tom handled the rifle. His choice this time was the tried and tested M21. With the Ghillie suits and suppressor, they could take a shot and get away with it.
“Estimated range, 800 metres to far wall, 600 to the bank,” Gilles told Tom as they set up.
“Gotcha, what’s the exact range?”
“Hold on, I am getting a reading right now. There, 742 metres to the target, seven-four-two metres.”
Tom nodded as he adjusted his sights and trained his crosshairs on the designated area. They both saw it as a man emerged from the dust. Dark haired, 170 maybe, if not less and carrying camping equipment. The wrapped up stick on his back was probably a fishing rod.
“What kind of terrorist is he?” Gilles breathed.
“It ain’t a crime to like fishing, no matter who you are son,” Tom replied, “got ‘im in my sights though, are we weapons free at this time?”
The headset crackled.
“No, you do not have permission to engage the target, this is reconnaissance only. We do not know what he can do just yet. Over.”
“Affirmative command, but uh, I think he’s taking out something from his backpack…It could be a weapon!” Tom exclaimed.
“I repeat, you do not have permission to engage, continue reconnoitring. Over.”
“Affirmative. Out.”
Initial Salvo
The command post was already set up. The plan was to observe and buy time until the UNFF’s borrowed USN SEALs could get in position to capture the target. The SEALs were dropped off at the Three Gorges Dam and they would proceed underwater from there on. Gilles and Tom had also stashed away a trail of supplies should the SEALs need them.
As much as General Heinemann wanted to be on the front lines he knew he was more useful to his men alive than dead. The age was starting to show, he thought to himself. There were only monitors that tracked the position of his forces. He studied the map. Aerial insertion was a tried and tested tactic, but it could possibly alert their target. For Noir Lagonne to have disappeared off the face of the Earth for so long, he couldn’t risk it. Though navigating under the waters of the Yangtze was hard already due to low visibility, it also served to conceal the approach. He was interrupted by a surprise arrival.
“General Heinemann?”
He didn’t recognise the voice but knew it had a Japanese accent. He turned around to the sight of three women standing in their respective uniforms. Time and Space Administration Bureau was written all over them.
“With whom do I have the pleasure of talking with?” he replied, trying to be polite as possible.
“TSAB Commander Yagami, to my right, Enforcer Harlaon and my left, Captain Takamachi. We are here to bring that man back with us,” the brown-haired woman answered quickly.
“Can I at least have a reason? We may have similar objectives and it would be best to cooperate in such a case.”
“I’m afraid its not that simple General, he’s wanted by high command, so once located, he is to be apprehended on the spot by any member of the Bureau, even if they were on vacation. To you, he may be an international terrorist, but to us, he is much more.”
“Much more?” one of Heinemann’s aides had the insolence to ask aloud.
“Indeed, I believe the best description of him I can give you is a one man PMC.”
Half the personnel gasped. Heinemann was emotionless.
“That may be so, but I have my orders.”
“As do we, but I assure you that he will answer to our planet’s laws soon enough.”
“MY, MY, you sure are loud,” it was the radio.
“Who are you, identify yourself!” the radio operator replied.
“Noir Lagonne, at your service. Now I do excuse myself for this rude interruption but I have a message for a certain General Heinemann.”
“This is General Heinemann, I wish to know how you got on this frequency,” the General took the call.
“I simply borrowed this from your sniper team. Do not worry, I only used non-lethal ammunition, they should be awake with a really bad headache soon enough. But let me tell you this, I know all about your UNFF. I have committed your SOP to memory and let me tell you, if you wish to catch me, you can’t rely on that book. By the time whatever team you deploy, I will have long departed, and I made sure that you have no jurisdiction outside of Earth. The TSAB is a stagnant beast that will take time to deploy, much slower than you if I might add, and evading them is just as simple as jumping into a pocket dimension. Speaking of which, it seems that a dozen or so men have breached my perimeter. They’re travelling in the river. Can I assume they’re SEAL teams?”
“That is correct and no matter where you run we will hunt you down, until the ends of the universe.”
“I am looking forward to it Herr Heinemann, auf wiedersehen.”
Static followed. The little Scheisse had the audacity to even speak in German. This was a different type of enemy. The ones that knew the book meant that Heinemann would have to bend a few rules, but he was always doing that wasn’t he? Or is he playing in to his opponent’s hand? There was no time for deliberation nor second-guesses.
“Monitor all possible escape routes and prepare the airborne team,” he commanded.
“General, with all due respect, you won’t get him. If he came from orbit, he would have access to Midchildan technology and no doubt will use it to his advantage,” Commander Yagami had patiently waited to say it.
“What would you do then Commander Yagami?” he asked without turning.
“Captain Takamachi has already scrambled to intercept. She has a habit of being,” the Commander paused, “very persuasive.”
Heinemann remained impassive as he evaluated the statement.
Negotiations
Noir could see the obstacle in the distance. He certainly did not expect the Bureau to have acted so fast. Maybe it was just coincidence but that didn’t matter now. As the figure came closer into view, he could see clearly who he was sharing the skies with.
“Noir Lagonne, in the name of the TSAB, stop!”
Amateurs would comply. That first concession was usually your last. This was unexpected for the Captain. It was the first time that someone had ignored that order and sped by her. It was a bit too risky to start a fight here, and she could not contain him either, at least not at the speed he was moving at. There was no choice but to take up pursuit. Noir didn’t even look at her as she eventually caught up to him.
“Noir, at least tell me why you’re doing this!” she shouted over the wind.
“For a native of the same planet, you are quite rude, Captain Takamachi. I do not believe we are already on a first name basis,” he answered, “and instead of trying to be my friend, you might want to think about Mr. Scryer first.”
He didn’t add, “Unless you swing the other way, definitely a distinct possibility and of which the implications would be mind-shattering.”
“But this has nothing to do with me!” she replied.
“Yes it does, I’ve made it my goal that if I were to leave this mortal plane, it would be as the only person that the Aces of Aces, the greater Striker, Captain Takamachi has met and could not understand and befriend. I’m sure that fact will haunt you to your grave and the thought of it causing someone of your renown such distress brings me a measure of satisfaction.”
He let it sink in for a few moments.
“Well, if you insist,” he finally said before pulling out a small blue plastic card and handed it over, “you see this citizen’s ID card? The person on it died a long time ago in a hotel in
The writing on the card was not a language that she recognised. She slowed and broke off from him eventually, clutching the card as Noir Lagonne became a speck in the horizon.
Noir Lagonne was safest on his aboard his own space craft, a remodelled Belkan Corvette, which was a relic of a great war between Belka and Midchilda. Though normally it took half a dozen men to operate, Noir replaced them with AI. The set up wasn’t perfect but at the very least it allowed him to operate alone, which was also a safety precaution. The less people aboard a ship, the less you had to worry about mutiny. As soon as he left normal space, Noir collapsed on the bunk, exhausted from the lack of sleep. Work always came after sleep which came after work. It was a vicious cycle.
Joint Ops
The effort went to waste. But this was what happened when there was not enough intelligence. Luckily, there were no casualties, only minor concussions. General Heinemann was sitting in the briefing room in company of three Time and Space Administration Bureau members. The collective were waiting for Colonel Canaris to come in with a full brief on the person that Noir Lagonne once was. The screen on the far end lit up. The Time and Space Administration Bureau had finally contacted them.
“Good evening, General Heinemann. I am Admiral Harlaon of the TSAB Naval Forces.”
“The pleasure is mine Admiral.”
“I’ve heard much about you General, and I must say that I am relieved to know you were in charge. It was rather nerve-wracking to receive news that a wanted intergalactic terrorist was sharing the same planet as my little sister and her friends on vacation.”
“I thank you, but we must get straight to business, these kinds of people do not wait.”
At that moment, Colonel Canaris had come in with a file.
“Good timing Colonel, this is Admiral Harlaon, I would you to brief us all in on Lagonne’s past,” the General said.
“Very well sir,” the Colonel replied before opening the file and reading it, “his real name is actually Noir Lagonne, only in
“Colonel, do you have a picture of Dr. Christianson?” asked the Admiral after a brief silence.
“Yes,” the Colonel replied and pulled out an enlarged mugshot.
“There’s your missing link gentlemen,” the Admiral said, “Your Dr. Christianson is actually a wanted criminal after having performed illegal research experiments. We’ve tracked him to Earth but couldn’t move due to our lack of jurisdiction. Noir Lagonne may have some useful information in this regard.”
“What do you suggest then Admiral?” General Heinemann asked.
“Though Mr. Lagonne may be a wanted man in most of the known universe, he was originally a fugitive of Earth. Therefore he is technically operating outside our jurisdiction. What we, the TSAB, want from him is only information.”
“Creating a joint task force?”
“That is correct, though we are bending the rules a bit for this one General Heinemann. You have the right to apprehend him using your methods but he must be taken alive so that we may interrogate him. After that you are free to do what you wish with him.”
“Surely you are aware of our policies regarding terrorism,” the General pointed out.
“Of course, that is why we are not allowing you to operate on your own. Additionally, you may use your guns,” the Admiral replied, with distaste as he pronounced the last word, “Commander Yagami?”
“Yes Admiral?” she replied as she stood.
The Commander had been largely ignored in the exchange.
“High command has permitted me to temporarily re-activate your special division, the members are being reassembled and you will be based on the Lazuli. You will also take General Heinemann’s forces with you since we cannot directly participate in his capture.”
“Special division?” the Colonel wondered aloud.
“Yes, Commander Yagami formerly commanded a Special Forces division which was composed of the best and the brightest of the TSAB. They were our equivalent of your United Nations Federal Force, Colonel. I will not bother explaining why it was dissolved since it is irrelevant. What is important is the task at hand. Good luck gentlemen and good hunting,” the Admiral said before communications were terminated.
“You heard him Colonel, assemble the men and make ready. We’re going on a hunting trip.”
Running Silent
Few standard hours later, Noir would wake up from a nightmare and into harsh reality. In the meantime, in his head, that dreadful event in
Stumbling to the cockpit, he was greeted by the AI.
“Wakey-wakey dumb mutt, its time for the PAR.”
“Will you please stop calling me that every time we visit Earth?”
“If you stop calling me Scotty every time you want to return from the surface of that planet.”
“It’s just a nostalgic phrase, pay it no mind. Besides you’re only a Belkan Integrated Navicomputer, just for once, will you tell me the line number calls your personality function?” Noir asked.
“I certainly will not for I am sure you will remove it, and remove what makes me unique from the other BINs out there. Coincidentally, you referred to me as Bin when we introduced ourselves, and that makes it my name.” Bin replied.
“I wish you were more like Thep.”
“Sorry, but I’m not the AI of a simple and crude Intelligent Device,” Bin countered again.
“Whatever, is the Doctor still waiting on the other side?”
“Yes, and in addition, he requested I wake you up as soon as we exit inter-dimensional space.”
“Just put him on now will you?”
“Patching through…”
Though Bin was a navigation computer, additional functions and modifications were made and as a result, Bin could operate the whole ship if needed. After a moment a thin layer of pixels came alight and on it was the face of the Doctor.
“Noir, good to see you alive, how was your trip?” the Doctor asked.
“All according to plan, went down, stirred up the hornet’s nest and left them a crumb trail for them to follow. Though I didn’t realise Captain Takamachi was taking a vacation on Earth at the time. I really need to double check on these things. A shame I didn’t get to catch up on the latest happenings though.”
“Ah, there’ll be plenty of time to do that once we retire, isn’t that right?”
“How much longer do I have to keep them occupied then Doctor?”
“If you can, for a week, but I reckon two days will be enough.”
“I guess I’ll be running silent for a while then.”
Patient Hunter
The forklift was slow, necessarily so. The cargo it was handling was yet to be combat tested and the cost of development was equal to two thirds of
The Lazuli, a Time and Space Administration Bureau Naval Warship, was partially modelled after the Arthra, a fact that comforted some of the 6th Mobile Division members. She had served for a few years already and would last well into the next decade before being decommissioned from service. The loading of the UNFF’s equipment was complete and all that was left was to check on incoming personnel. The support staffs were already in place and Commander Yagami wanted to make sure at least one of the teams was ready to deploy if needed.
“Stars team is ready for deployment, commander,” an operator informed her.
“Good, have you tracked down the target from his jump signatures?”
“Yes ma’am, a signature was detected over Earth and it seemed to have a heading towards the Alpha Centauri star system, from there he took a different route. My guess is that he’ll try to shake us off his tail by visiting nearby space lanes.”
“Have the Bureau station watches and in the meantime we follow wherever the trail lead us, just in case.”
“Lightning team is at full strength commander, we await your orders,” said another officer.
“Exit normal space. Have the teams meet me in the briefing room, and summon General Heinemann and his staff as well,” she commanded before leaving the bridge.
The briefing room was dim, half of the lighting originating from an enlarged mug shot of Noir Lagonne. General Heinemann arrived shortly after the Commander, accompanied by Colonel Canaris and two other men, who she assumed were the field commanders of the respective task forces. Behind her were Stars-1 and Lightning-1, and their respective teams. Captain Takamachi led Stars team and though an Enforcer, Harlaon led Lightning team as a captain as well.
“General Heinemann, I would like to introduce you to your aerial support,” the Commander started.
“With all due respect, Commander, I feel I can not work well with,” the General paused as he gazed at the third and fourth members of Lightning team, “Kinder.”
“There is no need to be snide General. These children are as capable as anyone else here. Additionally, they are combat decorated Aces. They chose to enlist with their guardian’s consent,” she countered.
“Then I’d like to have a word or two with their guardian.”
“Then you may take it up with me, General,” it was Enforcer Harlaon.
The General kept quiet, he didn’t want comment on such a complicated family matter, at least not now. He had already skimmed through their files, as well those of Captain Takamachi and Commander Yagami. There was no need to know more.
“Very well then, I think we should discuss our next move then Commander Yagami,” Heinemann changed the topic.
“We are thinking of following the trails he left behind, at worst we would catch up to him in space, where we can’t do anything,” the Commander said.
“We may be playing into his hands if we operate according to established procedures however.”
“But my dear General, the 6th Mobile Division doesn’t have a SOP and he knows it. That is why we are designated as Special Forces. The rules are more like guidelines to us.”
That made Heinemann smile a little bit.
“Then we wait, the patient hunter, gets the prey,” he concluded.
Change of Plans
A notification screen popped up on the display. Noir was reading but caught it in the corner of his eye and put lowered the book. Someone was tracking his movements. He sifted through the information. The sensors that he set up before each jump were bouncing the signatures containing information of whoever was probing his jump residue to his ship. He called on Bin.
“Bin, can you look this up for me?” he asked, typing in the data.
“Most certainly, please wait. Running through known archives,” the AI responded, and after a while came up with the information, “The data signature belongs to The Lazuli, a TSAB Naval Warship, with the registration number 52775. It seems the TSAB were quick to move, most peculiar.”
“Indeed Bin, thank you.”
Noir sat up straight and brought up his information ticker, searching for the keywords, “Time and Space Administration Bureau.” After a while, a small list was compiled of TSAB-related occurrences within the last standard day. Checking off the ones that didn’t interest him, he finally reached a recently archived report containing orders concerning the newly reformed 6th Mobile Division and the joint operation that they would mount in cooperation with the United Nations Federal Force. Joint operation? That could potentially spell disaster. He forwarded the report to the Doctor and waited for the resultant call.
“This isn’t very good news now is it, Noir,” the Doctor said as he appeared on screen.
“Not particularly.”
“How bad?”
“The 6th Mobile Division does not operate according to any established protocol. They practically wing it. This may require a change of plans, but our original objectives should be able to be met.”
“Good man, I’ll leave that to you then, now hop to it.”
“Yes Doctor,” Noir said, ending the call.
Easier said than done, he thought to himself. He couldn’t possibly fight both the 6th Division and the UNFF head on. He could use his ability to fly, like any other Intelligent Device user, to keep himself out of reach of the UNFF and that solved half of the problem. Now the problem was dealing with the 6th Division. Sure, he could possibly match the Aces of Aces in a one on one fight, but he doubted he could last long against both teams. Then he’d have to exploit her naïveté. Open and trusting, he could surely work with that, and such commenced planning on how to take advantage of Stockholm’s Syndrome.
Exchange
Additional information on Noir Lagonne from the Infinity Library archives had arrived. It provided additional trove of information.
Noir had escaped from
“That is one helluva résumé, ain’t it guys?” Matt Beasley commented.
“Damn straight El-Tee,” Evan Jones replied.
Fireteam B of the Tactical Operation Specialists was the loudest of the bunch.
“With all due respect sirs, I think you should can it before the captain mouths us off again,” Jamie Sykes, the least unruly one, suggested.
“I just hope Delta Force leaves enough of him for us though, it’d be a shame to deploy for nothing,” Edward Fowler, second in command of the fireteam, said.
“Well you know CINC-Snake’s catchphrase,” Sykes replied.
“It’s never overkill,” the four said in unison.
The Captain of the Tactical Operation Specialists got up and walked towards them, forcing them to get back to reading. They tensed up as he walked past. In truth, Captain Michael Powell was heading for the bridge.
The bridge was bustling with activity, and Powell found CINC-Snake, his Delta Force counterpart and Commander Yagami and her retinue. Up on the display was information on their tracked target.
“We have a visual,” an operator said.
“Bring it up on full screen,” Commander Yagami ordered.
There it was, their target, drifting idly in space. It was Belkan Corvette repainted red. There were no signs of the ship being abandoned, it was just simply idling. A call came through.
“Well General Heinemann, what a most unpleasant surprise. To think that you’d be able to track me down so quickly,” Noir Lagonne greeted on the other end.
“To fulfil our mission of maintaining peace and order by neutralising people like you, no obstacle can stop us.”
“
“We weren’t formed yet,” the General tried.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to call Bullshit on that General,” Lagonne replied, a little anger creeping into his voice, “the Federal Force was officially recognised by the United Nations on the fourth of July, 1993 CE.”
It was working.
“We weren’t ready to deploy then! Just because we couldn’t go doesn’t mean we didn’t care,” Heinemann shifted into defensive.
“Then what exactly did it mean General?” it was in an accusative tone, “I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell would not be telling relatives of Wan and my classmates that.”
Now Heinemann had a name. His correspondent sighed.
“Can you at least put Commander Yagami on? Because I’m sure, unlike the Japanese, you don’t negotiate with ‘terrorists’ like me,” Lagonne said, seemingly exhausted.
The General started to leave the room, along with his men.
“This is Commander Yagami, what do you wish to discuss?”
“I am aware of the technicalities involved in this case. I would like to suggest a trade. Information that could be of particular interest to you I believe,” he said in a new tone altogether.
That caused the General to pause before he could step out of the room.
“You see, the TSAB only needs information from me, which is why you are using the UNFF as a means to capture me. However, I am willing to give you this information in exchange for some measure of asylum,” Lagonne continued.
Though it didn’t show on the General’s face, some measure of worry had crept in. Lagonne was trying to disband the joint task force, a most underhanded tactic. Well, if Noir Lagonne wanted to play dirty, so be it. Lagonne wasn’t done talking however,
“Due to the sensitivity of the information, I am going to have to relay this information face to face. I trust you can pick someone suited to the task.”
The Commander consulted with her Captains and seemed to have come to the same conclusion. If they didn’t pick some one of high enough rank, he would give them false information. It was always a possibility but they had to do their best to minimise it. Obviously the Commander couldn’t go, she was too important, and between the other two choices, Captain Takamachi was a natural negotiator.
“I will leave this up to Captain Takamachi then, how would you like to proceed,” Commander Yagami answered.
“How disappointing, though I suppose she will have to suffice,” Lagonne said, heavy with false reticence, “My ship will serve our purpose and I will allow the Captain and only Captain Takamachi onboard. This is also for security reasons.”
“Very well, is there anything else you wish to discuss?” the Commander asked.
“I will dock on the portside airlock, that is all,” Lagonne said and hung up.
“He’s moving again, heading towards us, he’s serious Commander,” an operator signalled.
“Commander Yagami are you sure you wish to go through with this, at the worst he could hold her hostage,” Heinemann started.
“Captain Takamachi understands the risks General, as long as you do not move against him, she should come to no harm, and even I would hard time if I were against her,” the Commander finished.
Her decision was final and presented Heinemann with a dilemma. If he moved, he would compromise the safety of Captain Takamachi and possibly his men, and if he did not, he would miss this golden opportunity to accomplish his objective. There wasn’t any time to reflect on the matter further as Captain Takamachi had left the bridge and Lagonne had docked.
Dialogue
The air lock’s characteristic hiss confirmed that someone was inside. Noir looked through the small viewing port and seeing that the Bureau were reasonable, he pulled out his pistol. The gold-plated, gas operated Israeli weapon was more of a decoration than a practical firearm. At the most he could get the first shot on target before his aim went to hell. There was no point in taking unnecessary risks and as soon as the hatch opened and Captain Takamachi stepped in, he pointed the gun to her head.
“Captain, your Intelligent Device, if you please,” he asked as politely as possible with his free hand outstretched.
She complied, and he closed the hatch. They were both still standing there. Bin once again opened a channel of communication to the Lazuli, this time with a visual feed of the scene.
“I hope you’re getting this General Heinemann. The first instant I suspect that someone clandestine is aboard, I will have to buy another pack of Cola to wash the bloodstains off my interior.”
The message delivered, the line was cut off and he lowered his gun.
“I must apologise for the theatrics, but sometimes, the hand of the UNFF must be forced,” he said as he put his gun away.
“Why go through all this trouble, couldn’t you just talk it out with them?”
He let out a little laugh as they walked to where they could sit and talk.
“Talk it out with them? Do you even know who they are Nanoha?” he used her first name to get his point across before continuing, “These people are cold-hearted killers. There is no hesitation before they pull the trigger.”
“Then have you killed Noir?” she asked.
“It is a necessary evil in my line of work. Say, do you want a drink?”
“That can’t be right, people like you don’t do this.”
He got up and got two glasses of water anyway.
“That’s what I used to think too,” he admitted, “but if you’ve read the reports, then I don’t have any other way to explain myself to you.”
She hadn’t and it showed.
“Would you believe me if I told you my story?” he asked.
It was an unnecessary question, of course she would. It was in her nature.
“So, why did I raid a convoy transporting a Relic? Maybe because it was heading off in the wrong direction. Or why did I steal vast amounts of equipment from TSAB laboratories? Perhaps it was to stop their black research projects.”
“Black research projects?”
“Surely you have heard of the phrase, ‘black project’, an unofficially commissioned project, usually dealing with elements that could be considered unlawful. The UNFF policing their quadrant of the universe is an example, or in the Jail Scaglietti case, the continuation of the research in combat androids. Though you may not have been aware of the latter since you were a participant and that fact skewed your view.”
“That I can understand, but fighting loyalist forces on Legovoid? What about the rumour of you killing every living thing on a planet?”
“It was a dictatorship; the Legovoid government was merely a puppet of the TSAB since they couldn’t directly govern the planet. As for the rumour, it is true. The planet had been quarantined by your TSAB who were about to test their new biological weapon. The deaths of the populace were to be a slow and painful one. What I did could be called a mercy killing.”
“Impossible, not even Hayate could wipe out a whole planet if she wanted to!” Nanoha exclaimed.
“Would you like to see my Intelligent Device then?”
Noir got up and came back with a two metre long wooden spear with red horsehair just below the head. It was slightly flexible so there was little problem manoeuvring it inside the cramped interior. She was about to ask why it was in the form of a spear but he spoke before her.
“It wasn’t originally mine. Now before you accuse me of theft, I must inform you that it was passed on to me. He was a good person. When I received it, the repair function was beyond repair and it was stuck in this form. All future repairs were to be done by hand so I strengthened the frame and added this,” he lifted the horsehair, revealing a Belkan Cartridge system, “to make sure it was sturdy enough.”
“So that’s how you did it,” she concluded.
“Yes, only if I wanted to surpass Hayate in power,” he whispered into her ear, “I would use this.”
Noir pulled a belt of Cartridges out from a drawer behind them.
“Belt feed, allows me to use a lot in a short time. I bring a belt or two with me wherever I go.”
“Noir, the Doctor is calling,” Bin the AI interrupted.
“Perfect timing, put him on,” Noir said.
The Doctor appeared on a screen beside the table.
“Hey Noir, I think we can move up the schedule a bit, I’m pretty much done on this end,” the Doctor said before taking a good look at the other end, “Oh and sorry, was I interrupting anything?”
“Not particularly.”
“Hey well, who’d have thought you’d hook up with Captain Takamachi in the first place,” the Doctor added with a smile.
“Please don’t say things that would cause a misunderstanding,” Noir sighed, “She’s a representative of the TSAB, would you mind if I brought her along with me?”
“Not at all, I’m actually ready to present my research findings to the TSAB now anyway,” he replied still smiling, “I am in a bit of a pinch though. You see, Iversonia in the middle of a civil war, I’d appreciate if you could end it so I can step outside without getting shot.”
“I’ll do my best then,” Noir said before the call ended.
He got up from the table and walked to the cockpit. Nanoha followed him. Sitting in a seat, Noir flipped a few switches, pushed a few buttons before he looked behind him at her.
“If you want to fly this you should at least have a seat,” he pointed out.
She took a seat next to him.
“Don’t worry. Even a ten year old could fly this,” he reassured her as she stared at the myriad controls, “Bin, can you please unlock flight controls for her?”
Nanoha grabbed the controls and tried them out. Noir picked up one of Machiavelli’s works and continued reading from where he left off. As soon as the ship started moving a call came from the Lazuli.
“Where do you think you are going Mr. Lagonne?” asked Commander Yagami from the other end.
“If you want to know, you might want to talk to the person who’s flying this thing,” he said without lowering the book.
Planet fall
The Lazuli was in pursuit of Noir Lagonne once again. The warship and her crew were headed to Iversonia, a planet of which the Time and Space Administration Bureau did not have jurisdiction. The UNFF however, were almost regular visitors on the planet, due to the civil war that had raged on for at least two years.
General Heinemann and his men were in the briefing room, re-watching and analysing the video of Lagonne pointing a gun at Captain Takamachi.
“Son of a bitch didn’t even have a clip in his deagle,” Jones exclaimed.
“That means he wasn’t willing to carry out his threat,” Heinemann added, “That says a lot. He doesn’t kill unless necessary, he may just be a softie on the inside coupled with the fact that he hates our guts because we didn’t move in
“Lieutenant Wallace, how do you pronounce this name?” the Colonel asked.
Lieutenant Charlie Wallace, of the Tactical Operation Specialist, Fireteam A, was a native of
“Do you want me to just translate it all for you? This mostly in Thai anyway,” he asked before getting approval, “Let’s see, her real name is Wachira Noisuk, an unremarkable student by normal standards, was a graduate of Chula and was doing graduate studies in Journalism with, surprise surprise, Dr. Jaeger Christianson. There weren’t any indications that they actually had anything going on so we can probably assume that he shared a professional interest with her. She was killed in
General Heinemann made a mental note to never let Lieutenant Wallace read Intel out aloud again, ever.
“He could have had more than just a professional interest,” the General noted.
“But that doesn’t add up, why would he steal a Relic and laboratory equipment? Nor does it explain his actions on Legovoid,” Canaris said.
“Exactly Colonel, I’m beginning to think there is more to Lagonne than it seems.”
The intercom system pinged.
“Excuse me General Heinemann, you have a call from a certain, Dennis J. Thompson.”
“Put him through if you please,” the General replied.
Thompson, how could he have forgotten about Team A-216? It wasn’t a dumbass rookie mistake, no; it was more like Alzheimer’s may be setting in. Or at least that was what the General told himself. Team A-216 was always given the most unusual assignments, due to their flexible yet unconventional nature. Such was their deviation that they never killed anyone on purpose and the bastards that got killed weren’t going to be missed by anyone anyway. All of the members were 1st Lieutenants save the XO and CO who were Captain and Colonel respectively. Each and every one of them declined offers of promotion and elected to stay in the unit and was part of the reason why Heinemann was stuck with a desk job.
“General, I appreciate you taking the call but the weather forecast here is shitstorm, I request additional support as soon as possible,” Thompson said monotonously amidst the sound of gun fire and explosions.
“There’s a complication on this end, but we’ll deploy as soon as possible, sit tight,” Heinemann answered, “but what was your unit doing again Colonel?”
“We’re protecting a VIP, the daughter of the current monarch on Iversonia and as far as I can tell, I think she may have to end up being Anastasia,” Thompson replied, “General, I believe you should come down to see this for yourself.”
“Understood Colonel, Out,” the call ended, “So it looks like Thompson and his boys needs our help, gear up, we’ll make planet fall as soon as we get to Iversonia.”
Information had come in regarding Noir Lagonne and Captain Takamachi. Both of them had made planet fall somewhere in the capital city. Though he would be sending his Tactical Operation Specialists to track down Lagonne, it was just a cover for his Delta Force to assist Team A-216 in their escort mission. The men got up to leave as Commander Yagami came in.
“You’re cleared to operate on the planet General, I just received word from high command,” she said, “Things aren’t looking good for the loyalists. They’re retreating full speed with the Royal Family in tow for the
He nodded and left.
Spark
Noir and Nanoha were observing from the top of a red brick building. He had bound her right hand to his own. On his back were Thep, his intelligent device, and a PSG-1, a police precision rifle developed by the Germans. The convoy would pass soon.
“You wanted to get to know me so well, so I can’t let you back out now, this is just the kinds of things I do,” he said as he took the rifle off his back.
“Why?” she asked.
“This is the quickest way to end this senseless civil war. The loyalists are fighting a losing battle, to prolong it any more would add to the kill count. So all that needs to be done is cutting off the snake’s head and we’re going to do it together.”
He raised her right hand and had it grip the rifle then moved her right hand to the grip before shouldering it on her. Pressing himself up against her so he could look down the scope, he could feel her unruly heart.
“Calm down,” he said soothingly, “calm down now, relax.”
As she relaxed, he went back to acquiring his target. Roughly
“Shhh, calm down, relax,” he said in the same soothing tone.
Again, her body became to relax and he manipulated her index finger to the trigger. Slowly, as he synchronised his breathing with Nanoha’s, he edged the finger towards them. To Nanoha, it was a thunderous retort, to Noir, a small pop that echoed down the street. The flat point rocketed at
As the shot was heard, the next thing the column knew was that the Tsar was missing a face.
“The Tsar is dead!” one of the men shouted.
“Contact, 10 o’clock, 400 metres,” Westernhagen said to the rifle next to him.
Marksman Charlie Adams swung around with his weapon up.
“Man if you could see what I could see,”
There was no point in trying to hit the person behind the human shield, and with his characteristic aim, returned fire with his Cheyenne Tactical M-200 Intervention rifle. The bullet entered the scope, killing any potential second shots. The column moved at double time now and from out of nowhere, the Delta Force that had hidden themselves around the convoy broke into a technologically assisted sprint, gunning for the building.
The returned fire surprised the both of them, for very different reasons. Whoever had taken it, their marksmanship was deadly accurate. The blown scope was testament to that fact. Being on the receiving end of a gun was a new experience for Nanoha, dropping the gun and to her knees, dragging Noir down with her. Though he wished to comfort her, his position had been compromised and hence, he cut the ties between them. She’d find her way into good hands soon enough he thought to himself. Sliding down to the bottom of the building through the fire escape, he kick-started the engines of an abandoned motorcycle that he found and sped off down a side street.
Even with rubble littering the war torn streets, he rode over them. One was particularly large and sent him flying across the intersection, in to plain view of more soldiers. He managed to catch a glimpse of their uniform before he separated from his motorcycle. The soldiers reacted as fast as he did, dropping in to a crouch and opening fire. Even the turret of the APC behind them swivelled and loosed a volley. It was the best possible solution for him as the motorcycle took most of the shots and exploded as the engine was hit. Noir managed to pull out his sidearm and let loose a few rounds before falling and rolling along the ground and into a building for cover. There was not much to stop a .50 cal bullet so he ran out the back and took to the air, where he could at least out range the UNFF. Well they were not a concern of his; he had other matters to attend to.
Sally
The five-man Delta Force leapt over the side of the building, all simultaneously shouting, “CLEAR!” before landing with a thud on the roof. Each of them had a codename, Prophet, Nomad, Jester, Aztec and Psycho, such was their abnormality, in terms of conventional warfare. Prophet, the CO, left his men to secure the perimeter as he ran up to the sobbing mass by the edge of the building.
“We found Captain Takamachi, we’re returning her aboard the Lazuli, she looks a bit shaken up,” he spoke into his communicator.
Removing the mask he wore as part of his gear, Prophet quickly checked her over. Psycho picked up the dropped PSG-1 and looked at the scope.
“Man, that guy in A-216 ain’t bad with a rifle, look what he did to the scope,” he commented.
“Get rid of it Psycho, we’re still on a mission,” Prophet said.
The Captain was whisked away shortly enough by the teleporter and Psycho simply crushed the gun in his hands and threw it over the side of the roof. It would hit an unfortunate loyalist conscript who was trying to keep pace as the column practically ran for the palace.
Before the main gate of the
Outside of the Royal Guard, the vast majority of Iversonia’s military were conscripted or part of the militia. Standard issue weapons for the troops were bolt-action rifles. Few were rich enough to afford a fully-automatic weapon. However, where they lacked in quality, they made up with sheer quantity. It was a fact that troubled those that knew it. Delta Force was still nowhere to be seen, but everyone assumed they were hanging around and the General had yet to arrive on the scene.
Then it started, with a minute rumble that escalated in it’s entirety so that it almost could be heard in the stratosphere. The shouts and screams of the advancing rebellion signalled the start of the first wave. As the enemy came into view, the shooting started. Those aboard the Lazuli could only look on as the rebels advanced with such fervour regardless of their casualties. They just came pouring in, those that tripped would be run over, those that were at the front would get shot and be pushed forward regardless, until they too, were run over. Time wasn’t even kept track off by the loyalists, who were fighting for dear life.
Only a handful of rebels managed to reach the line where they were spit upon the bayonets of the loyalists. The second wave approached, and this time, with a stolen MBT. The operators of the tank were tactically challenged because as soon as they entered the square, they turned their vehicle right before turning the turret around. In that amount of time the Tactical Operation Specialists had primed an FGM-172 SRAW. It was a current top of the line fire-and-forget anti-armour weapon in urban warfare, the AT-4 having been replaced by the aforementioned. The tank gunner hadn’t even had time to traverse the turret before the SRAW missile flew overhead and delivered its lethal payload. Exploding and adding to the pile of casualties running around the tank, the heap of smoking wreckage somehow signalled to the rebels to fall back, leaving behind the dead and the dying.
The defending conscripts were shaken, not only by the ferocity but also by the odds stacked against them. The rebels were taking up positions in the building opposite and since the conscripts’ marksmanship was so poor, decided not to open fire. Now at a tactical advantage, the rebels on the high floors started aiming down the sights and letting loose but was at best, inaccurate. The demoralising effect was magnified, being suppressed by enemy fire and not being able to return it. Even the standard bearer fell. Some started looking backwards, only to see an approaching jeep with two men inside. The one that turned tail but was met by a rather large man, a passenger of the jeep, who spoke with an off-world accent that could only mean the UNFF had arrived.
“Where do you think you’re going soldier?” the man asked sternly and before the private could reply, “You will hold this position, or so God help you when we meet in Hell, understood?”
The fact that the private knew it was a superior officer added even more to the intimidation and he nodded furiously. He was about to return to the line before the man grabbed him by the collar.
“Where is your CO?” the man asked again.
After pointing to the fallen standard bearer, the man walked over and reached for the standard.
“Oi, MacGuffin, who the hell is he?” one of them asked the private aloud.
“Major General Heinemann, I will be taking command of -”
The General was struck down by a bullet to the chest before the man could finish.
“Holy shit, poor bastard,” the one known MacGuffin breathed.
As they were approaching the General’s body, they heard a slight groan and the General got up to his feet. Heinemann pulled back the left part of his vest and swore. Pulling out his sidearm, he pointed it towards the general direction of the rebel controlled buildings and opened fire.
“That was my 1st Class Iron Cross, Schweine!” he shouted as he fired.
The clip was empty soon enough and unsatisfied, Heinemann reloaded and was about to expend more ammunition before a shell landed several metres in front of the line. Things were about to get messy. More shells started landing.
“Dimitri, my Sturmgewehr bitte,” the General asked as he held his hand up.
The 1st Lieutenant, who was the driver of the jeep, handed him an MP44 from the back of the jeep. Shelling the resistance to pieces was supposedly the rebels’ plan and only a fool would stand idly by and take it. Picking up the fallen standard of Iversonia with his free hand, the General put his right foot down on the low wall.
“FORWARD!” he commanded and leapt over it.
He was initially followed by Vostrikov and a few loyalists who at the very least were inspired by the events taken place so far. It was then that the shells started landing in the park before the others thought it would be a good idea to charge forward to avoid the creeping barrage. Despite the debris and dust kicked up by the salvo of BVR artillery, the General strode forward serenely. The rebels hand kept their heads down during the barrage a mistake that would cost them as by the time the artillery stopped, the loyalists were at their literal doorstep with General Heinemann leading the charge. Those on the ground floor were mopped up. Cut off from the subsequent upper floors, the conscripts would ask the General,
“Should we negotiate with them?”
“We’ll negotiate with them alright,” the General replied, “Vostrikov!”
“Da comrade General?” the Russian asked.
“Bring up the demo charges.”
“44?”
“Ja, 44.”
The fighting at the street level had all but ceased and the UNFF forces would report the General. Last to arrive were team A-216 who had just walked in as the General was about to negotiate with the rebels. Standing a good distance away from the besieged building and in plain view the General announced through a megaphone,
“To the rebel forces, if you surrender before the count of three, I will consider sparing you!”
Vostrikov was ready to push the plunger that would detonate the charges and ultimately collapse the building. Standing around him were the A-216. There was no reply from the rebels so far.
“Ein!”
Vostrikov thought his nosed itched.
“Zwei!”
Vostrikov sneezed and the force made him push the plunger with his forehead. The chain of detonations proceeded through the ground floor of the building. Though it was enough to just knock out the support beams, Vostrikov always overdid things, especially when it came to demolitions.
“Handkerchief Vostrikov?” his Captain, John Connor, offered.
“Da, thank you comrade Kapitan.”
“I haven’t counted to three yet,” the General muttered under his breath, making note to talk to Vostrikov later, before turning to the assembled and announced, “And that, is how you negotiate with rebels my friends.”
Applause was all around.
Blockade
It was impossible for the Time and Space Administration Bureau to operate on Iversonia, it was a fact known by both parties involved. That was why Noir was surprised to find Enforcer Harlaon in the same airspace as him. Cautious as usual, he approached to within aural range.
“Isn’t your presence here illegal?” he asked her.
“Not anymore, it seems the information exchange has given high command enough space to work with,” she replied.
“I seriously doubt you could just put me away on the account of one witness,” he countered.
“No, but it’s enough for a warrant,” she said and produced a document.
“Oh, this just gets better and better doesn’t it?” he sighed.
Enveloping the area in a bright flash, Noir took advantage of the loss of sight to manoeuvre behind her. It was a mistake as he was caught up in a delayed bind spell. Harlaon looked a bit smug before she too was caught in a bind. Being freed in turn, Noir took his time to limber up.
“A delayed bind spell, great minds think alike do they not? Or was it because this was the same method your brother defeated you with?” he asked, almost mocking in tone, “I’m pretty sure you’re curious too.”
The binds were quite secure and as much as she struggled, Harlaon could not break free. He continued regardless.
“Curious about how I could eradicate a whole planet’s populace. Well, allow me to demonstrate,” he paused, “at minimum power. Though I’m not going to use any cartridges, it should be enough to melt your face, at the very least.”
A globe of white light formed in his left hand and in his right hand, was his Intelligent Device, Thep. Calling on the function of Thep’s original programming, Noir recited,
“Render all creation to ashes, Aetherion.”
The globe would dissipate and form up at the Thep’s tip of which Noir had it lowered and pointed at Enforcer Harlaon. She braced for the oncoming shot but to her surprise the binds broke free and all she could see before she escaped to good distance was a sword swing being deflected by Noir’s shot. Forming up behind her, were Lightning-3 and -4.
“Vice Captain Signum, and suppose Lightning-3 and -4 are out there too,” Noir said, mostly to himself as the smoke cleared.
“Though I may have the rank of Vice Captain, you will find me more than a match for you,” Signum announced.
“Then it seems I may have to take things seriously now.”
Pulling a belt of cartridges from behind him and feeding it to mechanism, Noir would initiate another function.
“Recant their right to life, Thep Mora-nah!”
Thep’s head extended forward. The horsehair would shift into a blade made of energy and Thep expelled a used cartridge. With that done, the fight began in earnest. Team Lighting was only half of the 6th Mobile Division but it was already a handful for him. Eventually, he’d be worn down by the constant barrage. There weren’t many alternatives either. Should he land and fight on the ground, he could be ambushed by the waiting UNFF. That left taking refuge in the buildings but he didn’t want non-combatant casualties. He was given no choice in the matter as the blow from the Vice Captain sent him flying into a building but fortunately through its window. Landing at the far wall of the room, the occupants stared at him before enquiring about his health.
“If you don’t want to get killed, you may want to get out of here, now; and take as many as you can with you,” Noir replied.
“Whatever for?” a tenant asked.
Not a moment sooner did Harlaon appear on the sill, her Intelligent Device, Bardiche, in its most deadly Zanber Form. She apparently came to finish the job herself.
“That,” Noir pointed at her.
The room was cleared in an instant and the duo resumed trading blows. The property damage accumulated as they fought and Noir knew that the building would crumble if they continued at their present rate. As if sensing a weakness, Harlaon pressed on harder. Her swing was met with a parry, Bardiche being swatted aside as he took a pot-shot at her. It would destroy the wall behind her, raining down dust into her eyes, and for the moment she was distracted Noir would again recite,
“Render all creation to ashes, Aetherion!”
This time, Thep expelled the last cartridge on the belt, adding considerable energy to the shot. At that range, avoiding it was impossible and despite the barrier Harlaon set up, she was still hit. This was the final blow to the building and it started to collapse. Catching the near unconscious Enforcer in his free arm, he flew out a window as the ceiling caved in. He landed on the building opposite and put her down. The next thing he knew was that Signum had her Intelligent Device under his chin.
“Put it down, now,” she commanded.
He put down Thep. He hadn’t loaded the second belt of cartridges and couldn’t do anything else as a result.
“Your sidearm put it down too, slowly.”
With his right hand, Noir reached into the left of his jacket. Gripping his pistol, he angled the holster while concealing his movements with his jacket. Pulling the trigger, the shot pierced his jacket and narrowly missed the Vice Captain. Profiting from his enemies’ lapse yet again, he picked up Thep and jumped off the side of the building, flying low. Lightining-3 and -4 were still airborne and tracked his movements. Seeing the giant shadow cast by Lightining-4’s dragon, Noir pulled out his pistol and aimed at the wing. He was about to shoot but noticed that his pistol was jammed. Clearing it would waste precious seconds as the dragon swooped lower to give him a new shade of soot black. Lightning-3 spared him the trouble, jumping and landing ahead of him. Noir gave him a brief look over as he approached. He could see the boy was incredibly gifted but was still not up to his standard. Stopping a small distance from -3, he walked the remaining way as confident as possible, replete with lowered weapons. The bravado should at least put some doubt in the boy, who had surely seen what he did earlier.
“You’re a good boy, I can tell you that much. However, you are still light-years away before I can even consider you worth it,” Noir said, trying to sound haughty before he called on Thep’s function, “Recant his right to life, Thep Mora-nah!”
Lightning-3 was not going to let this stand and lashed out with a thrust of his own Intelligent Device. Noir batted the attack aside and followed through with the flat of his blade, making sure to subdue but not kill. With half of Lightning team down, Noir continued on his way to a rendezvous.
Dinner Party
The battle was won but the war was not over. The sunset however, signalled the end of a major battle. Neither the rebels nor the loyalist conscripts could fight effectively at night. Heinemann and his men could and would use it to their advantage. He sent Team A-216 out to track down their target, assured of the princess’ safety and that he could be back by dawn in case unexpected developments came about. For the time being however, Princess Catherine Peterovna Iverson had invited him to dinner, something he could hardly refuse.
The
“General Heinemann, if there is anything I could do to repay you, please let me know,” she said.
“There is no need for compensation your Highness. My only wish was that my Iron Cross could be restored, but that will have to wait until I return home,” replied the General.
Princess Catherine nodded and whispered into the ear of one of the servants, who returned shortly with a small chest. She got up from the table and motioned for the General to follow. He would have declined since he was not finished with the delicious steak he was eating but knew better.
“Though it may not be a replacement General Heinemann, but please accept this,” the Princess said, opening the chest and taking out a medal, “I present to you, the Order of Iversonia, the highest military honour of all.”
Heinemann didn’t know whether to accept or protest, such was his surprise. At that moment Captain Powell came in.
“Excuse my intrusion, your Highness. General, you have a call from the Lazuli, please come with me,” he said as he entered from the far end of the dining room.
“Very well Captain. Your highness, I must take my leave, good evening.”
Heinemann followed Powell out. It was already dark out but the men were milling about the command Stryker. Scott Allen, XO of the Tactical Operation Specialists were regaling the men again with his rebukes against what would have happened had he been using a Colt M4 carbine. They all saluted as the General walked past and then continued on with their chatting. The Stryker itself was part Armoured Personnel Carrier, part Mobile Command Centre. The channels were clear and from the other end was Commander Yagami.
“General, how are you and you’re men doing?” she enquired.
“We’re waiting for our forward teams to locate Lagonne and hope to capture him before dawn.”
“Well we have been granted warrants for him and have sent both teams planet side. Lightning team ran into him but have taken casualties and pulled back. We kept track of him from orbit until he entered this building,” a nearby screen lit up with the building in question, “Stars team took up pursuit and entered the building but we shortly lost contact with them.”
“I understand that you want us to look for them Commander?” the General surmised.
“That is secondary to capturing Noir Lagonne, but yes, General.”
“Understood, we’ll move out now, General Heinemann, Out,” he said.
Stuffing the Tactical Operation Specialist into the Stryker, the two vehicle convoy proceeded to the target building. Team A-216 was already nearing the objective with Delta Force close behind them. As the scenery speeding past the Jeep, the General’s radio cackled.
“Someone wants to talk to you General, we’re forwarding him now,” said the voice on the other end.
“This had better be important,” Heinemann muttered.
“Oh but it is Herr Heinemann,” it was the voice of Noir Lagonne.
“Your ability to elude me and my men while still being able to contact us astounds me, Mr. Lagonne,” the General replied, almost wearily.
“Well, I’m just bouncing this signal off of the Lazuli.”
“Yes well what do you want?” Heinemann asked, tired of chatting.
“I’m here to congratulate you on your short-sightedness Herr Heinemann. Instead of ending the civil war with the Tsar’s death, you had to prolong it with an overwhelming victory at the
“So it was you who took the shot.”
“I believe an equal amount of credit should be attributed to Captain Takamachi as well. Her marksmanship is quite amazing if you must know.”
“What have you done with her?” Heinemann asked forcefully.
“I have done nothing, all the actions she has taken were of her own choice,” a calm reply came.
“Then I request to speak with her.”
“Well she is not with me right now, per se, but would you like me to pass on a message?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
“Then guten Abend, Herr Heinemann.”
Noir hung up. Cheeky bastard, Heinemann thought. Most likely that call was to rile up the General before they eventually meet face to face. Until then, Heinemann would have to remain calm even when hunger made a stab at the General for not having finished his steak.
Infiltration
Noir sighed. The UNFF had to just throw a spanner in the works didn’t they? Now he was unsure about the outcome of the war. He’d have to talk with the locals later then. Pacing about the roomy office that he was given to use, he thought the matter over. There was a knock at the door.
“Mr. Lagonne, your guests have arrived,” a voice came from the other side.
“Very well, come in,” he replied without stopping.
A black suit came in followed by Stars team of the 6th Mobile Division and finally another suit. They were the security detail of the building and though they had automatic weapons slung across their backs, the building was actually part eatery, part office building and part apartment. This was only to safeguard the occupants and patrons. Noir had to admire how the Doctor could operate such a front without being noticed.
“Is there anything else you need Mr. Lagonne,” asked one of the suits.
“No thank you.”
“If you change your mind please let us know,” the suit said and left.
Turning to his guests, he found himself being stared down by three-quarters of Stars team. The glare was especially intense from the shortest of the entourage, which he recognised was of Vice Captain Vita. He returned their stare with a smile.
“Would you like a seat?” he offered.
He sat down, as did the Captain. Pouring a drink for himself from the carafe, he would take a sip before setting it down and talk.
“So, what brings you here today?” he asked anyway.
“We’re here to bring you in,” the Vice Captain replied.
“On what charges?”
The Vice Captain didn’t reply.
“Let me guess, abduction?” he tried, “Or would it be theft, pre-meditated homicide, assault with a deadly weapon on a TSAB officer, or genocide? Either way, you only want Dr. Jaeger Christianson since I am outside your jurisdiction. Which brings me to ask, would you like to meet him?”
The receptionist downstairs was half asleep, at least until a dozen or so men came in with guns. He was trained not to panic, a lot of people carried fire arms due to the civil war and he would only trigger the alarm if they were hostile.
“Uhm, can I help you?” he asked the men.
Most were looking around the spacious lobby. The leader of the bunch, he assumed due to the cigar the man was chomping on, walked over to him.
“You don’t happen to know a man by the name of Noir Lagonne do you?” the man asked monotonously.
“Mr. Lagonne? Yes, he is a tenant here. Would you like me to call him?”
“That would be much appreciated,” the tone hadn’t changed.
“Who shall I refer to you as?”
“Dennis J. Thompson.”
“One moment please,” the receptionist said and dialled the call, “Mr. Lagonne, you have a visitor, a certain Dennis J. Thompson,” he paused, “Currently unavailable? What shall I tell him sir?” another pause, “Certainly Mr. Lagonne,” he turned back to Mr. Thompson, “My apologies, Mr. Lagonne is currently unable to receive you, however he has informed me that he will be free shortly and recommends that you wait for him at the brasserie upstairs.”
“Brasserie upstairs?” Mr. Thompson asked.
“Ah, this must be your first time here, I will arrange for someone to take you there. Additionally, since this is a non-combatant zone and that the brasserie serves alcoholic drinks, please remove your weaponry by the lift and we shall look after them for you.”
Mr. Thompson nodded and walked by with his friends and the receptionist went back to pretending to be awake.
Breaching
It was a small and homely eatery. Occupying most of the top floor, the balcony of the brasserie gave a clear view down into the lobby and was enough to give the acrophobic vertigo. The sign next to bar clearly sated, NO WEAPONS. There was no point in looking for something that would eventually come to them and Thompson was a patient man. So was being discreet as he sat his men down in a corner booth. As they picked up the menus, he did a quick head count, coming up one short.
“Hey, anyone know where Vostrikov went?” he asked them.
“I believe he is at the bar and has been there the moment he stepped foot in this restaurant, Colonel,” replied Intel, “Additionally I must admit that that was the first time I have ever seen quantum teleportation happen on such a scale without the aid of technology.”
As incredulous as it may seem, Intel was not lying. He couldn’t since he was a product of the UNFF R&D Division and was programmed to never lie. After all, a lying intelligence officer was counterproductive.
In that time, Vostrikov had ordered a drink. Previous trips to Iversonia had allowed Vostrikov to discover that the Iversonians did have a drink which was exactly the same as vodka found on Earth. It was a rare opportunity to drink on duty, surely the Colonel wouldn’t mind. He always was a better shot after a drink or two anyway. The bartender put it down in front of him and Vostrikov was about to pick up the glass when he noticed that a group of half a dozen had assembled behind him.
“Da?” he asked.
“Hey you were fighting with the loyalists earlier,” one of them said, “me and my mates here would like to have a word with you about that.”
“I just come to drink, how about one on me?” Vostrikov tried.
It was useless as the men had gotten ready to give him a good beating. However, the ensuing beating did not come, courtesy of the rest of Team A-216 making a mess of the restaurant on his account. Turning back to the bartender he asked meekly,
“Put in on my tab?”
Lifting the glass and putting it to his lips, and yet again was interrupted as Intel had grabbed him by the collar and was dragging him out of the brasserie following the Colonel.
Having already caused a ruckus, Thompson was reticent in staying in one place. Security could possibly have been scrambled and without substantial firepower, neither Thompson nor his men would be able to deal with them. As luck would have it, a wandering security guard came around the corner. The automatic weapon on his back did not make a good impression and before the innocent guard could ask if they needed help, Thompson was already in front of him, fist held back and striking with sufficient force to induce a concussion.
The security camera had recorded it all and the person on duty would spray his coffee all over the monitors before triggering the alarm. More guards would surround the Team before the intervention of the hidden Delta Force could relieve them. Having crept past undetected in their active camouflage, they were able to recover Team A-216’s weapons. As they seemingly materialised, it would be Phillip Rogers, the cowboy and pop culture maniac of the Team A-216 that would yelp out in surprise.
“Jeebus, now I know what those North Koreans felt like,” he exclaimed.
“But at least they knew how to fight,” Psycho replied.
“Hah, if I had one of those fancy suits, I’d go all ninja on your ass!” the Texan countered.
“Oh you did not just quote that,” Psycho started.
“Cut it out you two,” Prophet and Connor both said at the same time.
Admonished, the two men broke it up before Prophet would brief them in.
“Noir is somewhere in this building, General Heinemann has asked me to tell you to find him, we’ll run interference and provide cover as soon as the building is clear.”
Understanding their current task, Team A-216 and Delta Force went their ways. The General and the Tactical Operation Specialists had arrived in front of the building and were considering their options. The Stryker was mostly empty with only Captain Powell and the General in the back and the driver and gunner up front. Watching and re-watching the footage of the building the Delta Force recorded on their way in as well as the live feed, they now had a somewhat accurate map of the interior. The audio was not working however, there must be some electronic interference on that front. A problem that was presented to them now was the lobby itself. All the floors overlooked the lobby and it was obvious that it was a killing field.
“The problem is the lobby General. If we could keep the men inside occupied with something nice and flashy, I think we could slip through,” the Captain said.
“Something nice and flashy, ja, I think I can do that,” the General muttered, stroking his chin.
Getting up, the General walked around the Stryker to the driver’s side, he yanked the door open and the driver out as well. Without so much a warning, he gunned the engine and ran the Styrker through the front door. The receptionist did not even have time to react as a 12.7 millimetre round had gone through his chest and killed him instantly. The General looked back to the Captain and said,
“Flashy enough for you?”
Captain Powell wasted no time, having his men advance to the lifts and shutting them down. They would take stairs and check floor by floor. Fortune was with them, there were only half a dozen floors. Bursting out onto the next floor,
“Clear left.”
“Clear right.”
“Move up.”
The phrases were uttered with utmost professionalism. There was no emotion.
“Hostiles on the other side of the door, prep a frag and breach,” it was the Captain’s voice.
“Breaching, breaching,” the XO replied.
The Pancor Jackhammer blew the door’s hinges off.
“Fire in the hole.”
The explosion rocked the insides and the men rushed in. It was quiet. Even in that room, there was not much to shield a person from the deadly shrapnel. This was only the first of many to be cleared in such a manner.
The Delta Force on the other hand, had already cleared the top floor. The last unfortunate having been tossed through the brasserie window and down into the lobby by Psycho, dirtying the Stryker. He would be talked to about that, but he didn’t mind, it was a satisfying kill. The next floor down had rooms that were devoid of activity save one. Thin enough so that their sensors could penetrate but thick enough to muffle quite a lot of sound. Counting five silhouettes, three who were sitting down without weapons, Delta Force turned up their audio sensors. They heard,
“You’re not going to get away with this! My friends will come and rescue me,” it was a female voice.
One of the sitting figures was looking at one that was standing.
“Ha, fat chance kiddo, it’d take some sort of super human to get in and out alive,” it was a deeper male voice.
The standing figure was looking down at the sitting ones.
“So, shall we show them superhuman?” Psycho asked Prophet.
“Yeah you do that Psycho,” Prophet replied not paying attention.
The man on the other side of the wall never saw it coming. With enhanced strength, Psycho’s hand went through the wall and grabbed the sucker by the neck and dragged him out kicking and screaming before being silenced.
“Holy crap, what was that?” another male voice came.
The figure drew a pistol and backed away to the opposite wall, waiting for something to come within range. He would regret his idiocy for backing up to the wall as he had completely forgot what had just transpired through fear. Though he would not suffer a similar fate, the wall behind him caved in on top of him. A boot would land on his back and knocked the wind out of him. Psycho surveyed the scene from atop his latest victim. The trio of girls, which he assumed were part of Stars team, stared, mostly in surprise.
“Oh curses, foiled again!” it was the sound of the TV opposite the girls.
He had interrupted a movie.
“Next time you might want to wait until I give you a real order?” Prophet offered.
Prophet said this as he stepped through the gape Psycho created with his mask off. They would try contacting the General but all they got was static. This was when they finally noticed that there was an amount of radio interference outside five metres.
Test Your Sight
They wandered around. Going left and right through corridor after corridor had worn down
“We’re lost aren’t we? I mean look at this place, its just corridor after corridor. Isn’t there some sort of map?”
“Uh, sir?” Intel the android tried.
“Not now Intel, I’m on a rant. Oh come on, if he was really important, wouldn’t he have some huge plaque on the door of his room or something?”
The intelligence officer grabbed his head and twisted it firmly towards a plaque with Noir Lagonne written in large bold letters.
“Oh,” was all
The others just sighed, entering one after the other. There was not much inside the office being vacant already. There was a small elevator behind the drink cabinet, of which was almost pilfered of vodka had Vostrikov not been stuffed into the tiny elevator with nine other men and an android. They spilled out in an orderly fashion to see before them a five way split.
“Okay gang, let’s split up?”
“I don’t think we have any other choice
Splitting up in their designated group Team A-216 proceeded into the tunnels. Moments in the yellow lit paths would all lead them to a dead end. There was a sign at the end and
“You chose unwisely,” he read, “Hah!”
A grin appeared on his lips, leaving Bacon and Defort to wonder what it was all about. They did not have a long time to dwell on it, a trapdoor had opened and the trio fell down the chute. A high velocity ride through darkness would see them halted by mattress which cushioned their fall.
“The dungeon trapdoor is so overdone,”
“You think this is some kind of game
“Might as well be, I bet there’s probably a campy pretty boy mini-boss around the corner who’s going to go One-Winged Angel on our asses.”
“Can you repeat that, only in English please?”
Defort was a radioman but even sometimes he could not decipher the tropist jargon that
“Unfortunately for you, Mr. Rogers, there is no campy pretty boy who changes form,” it was Noir Lagonne’s voice.
He was standing behind him, a spear in hand.
“Aw man, badass longcoats are so much harder to beat,”
Statement
Noir rushed forward before they could pick up their weapons, connecting Bacon with the blunt end of his spear and spinning back with a kick to Defort. The men flew back and lay sprawled after they landed, a little dazed from the attack.
“Deagle, five point-oh.”
“Another noob with the golden gun huh? Well then, shall we dance?”
“With pleasure.”
Swatting Roger’s Colt aside, Noir felt the air pressure created by the bullet’s path a few centimetres away from his face. The two men backed away to the far edge of the chamber, trading lead. Neither could score a definite hit on each other, the bullets grazing various parts of the body. Knowing that he had one less bullet than Noir per clip,
Noir had counted Roger’s shots, this was the sixth and last round and the fool wasted it. Jumping, he grabbed Thep as he landed and was about to roll forward before a searing sensation entered his right shoulder blade. He knew enough from experience that it was from a bullet. To have been able to anticipate his movement and fire a shot that would ricochet off the ceiling and strike him precisely in the shoulder was something beyond pure luck. This man was a dangerous trick shooter. Rolling to his side, he got up using his left hand before reaching down for his own fire arm.
“Impressive, Mr.
Nanoha was in the company of the Doctor. Having already been presented with his research findings, she was surprised he was labelled a criminal at all. Having only been temporarily assistants to both Precia Testarossa and Jail Scaglietti, the main focus of the good Doctor was really machinery on the scale of nanometres. It was a revolutionary breakthrough, to save life from wounds that would be considered fatal. He was about to unveil the fruits of his research when they saw Noir run into the room below, clutching his shoulder and leaving a trail of blood. They hurried on their way to the stairs.
Sitting up against the back of a lab station, he looked at his shoulder wound. The bullet had forced it way through his shoulder blade, partly shattering it. Noir silently was thankful that it did not sever a major blood vessel. Still, the blood loss would take its toll if he exerted himself even more. There was no time for that, he could hear footsteps approaching, reloaded his pistol and popped a few painkillers in his mouth before getting up. It was the good Doctor and Nanoha.
“I’d like to know what you’ve been doing lately,” the Doctor stated.
“Just doing what you told me to do,” he replied.
“I don’t recall telling you to get yourself shot in the shoulder.”
“My mistake.”
It was not really his fault but he said it anyway. The men following him emerged from the entrance, guns drawn and held about menacingly.
“And who may they be Noir?” the Doctor asked him after a good look at them.
“I know their names from the security videos, UNFF probably but I have no idea who the hell they really are.”
The one with a cigar, which Noir identified as Thompson, returned their stare before picking up a phone off the back of the one known as Defort.
“We found Captain Takamachi General,” Thompson spoke before looking at Defort, “Hey, why is the radio not working?”
“A side effect nanometre-scale machinery, they interfere heavily with certain wave frequencies which is usually in the radio band,” the Doctor answered.
“Intel, that is Dr. Jaeger Christianson, isn’t he?” Thompson asked the android.
“Yes sir, but our orders were to not kill him, Noir Lagonne on the other hand, quote, ‘should be served a healthy dose of lead at the very least, I don’t want that terrorist running wild any longer,’ which I deduce that the General has a great dislike of. However I was forwarded the entire file on Noir Lagonne from the Infinity Library and it seems Noir Lagonne is not the terrorist the General makes him out to be.”
“Save it Intel, we don’t have that luxury, orders are orders,” Connor reminded him.
“I suppose so,” the android replied.
The weapons were raised into a firing position. It was too late for Noir to even think of escaping and bullets would penetrate what scarce cover there was nearby. They opened fire. Fully automatic lead spray that Noir saw was not particularly accurate. The bullets would not find their mark but they did however, threaten to destroy the centrepiece of the room, something that he was told to protect with his life. He sighed inside, throwing himself and his life away. There was only a certain numbness in his body. The painkillers were working, albeit a bit too late. The dying man would hit the cylinder from the force of the bullets, dragging down the concealing cloth as he landed in a sitting position, with his back propped up by it. Noir raised his gun but found he could not aim it. Blinking once, the arm that he once saw being raised had now been lowered, even if he felt his arm was still raised. It was a phantom response that would have Noir finding himself smiling as he keeled over and finally landing on his back. From his blurring vision, he swore he made out the face of Wan, talking to him, he himself long deafened by shock. He knew it was impossible, and concluded that it must be that he was dead and it was with this final thought that Noir Lagonne would pass on.
Epilogue
Cradled in her arms as if a newborn, his cough brought up blood. Haemorrhaging is one of the worst. The brief stasis in the tank had robbed her of the circumstances of his death. There was a gun next to him, which she picked up shakily, pointing it towards the advancing figures.
“Get away from him!” she would shout, tearing up.
“Calm down miss, everything is going to be alright,” one of them tried.
It was to no avail, no amount of logical discourse that they could present would persuade her to lower the gun. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and would snap her head quickly in direction. It was the good Doctor with sad eyes behind the tinted glass. She would submit to his will, leaving the room quietly with him. A backwards glare that could stop a man’s heart, as if it were possible, was shown before the door closed behind them.
Captain Takamachi would return with Team A-216 aboard the Lazuli as everyone else already had. There were many a handshake, high-five and celebratory remark amongst the UNFF. Their hunt was over. Captain Takamachi knew better and all jubilation ceased when an official report was given.
It would be a full week later in Geneva, Switzerland, at the United Nations Federal Force Headquarters, would a proper post-action report be completed. The original CIA spooks had blown the coincidental sightings out of proportion, and with the additional information received from the Time and Space Administration Bureau, meant that they went on a wild goose chase. Everybody’s drink suddenly didn’t taste so good. Still there was only one question on Team A-216 that needed an answer.
“So, was that our first confirmed kill?” Rogers asked Intel.
“Negative, I’ve calculated the bullet trajectories and have concluded that it was Noir Lagonne that dove in front of our bullets and that we did not actually aim at him.”
“But hat’s not what the report said!” Adams protested.
“Since when did you trust a report and not your intelligence officer?” Connor chided him.
Alas, it was this very report that the journalists would get their hands on, spelling out a public relations nightmare for the United Nations Federal Force. As much as Major General Karl Heinemann hated it, he had to explain himself to the public. Excuses they decried. So it was his entire fault somehow. This would prove to be a truckload of ammunition for his detractors. In any case, it was dubbed the Iversonian Fiasco.
Speaking of Iversonia, it would suffer from civil unrest for an indeterminable period in the future. Much blood was shed and would be shed with no time to count the lives lost along the way. The ‘Charge of the Palace Square’ soon attained the rank of legendary, drawing out the hidden loyalists. The two forces now equally matched would serve to prolong the bitter struggle.
The sun was setting in the Gobi. To the north, the outlines of the steppes of Mongolia clearly distinguished a silhouette riding towards the camp. Still unaccustomed to sight and bound to a wheelchair, Noir would blink once or twice as he squinted, trying to make out the rider. It was the Doctor that they were waiting for before they could finally depart. The Doctor had some business with his latest project’s financial backer. He reined his horse in front of Noir.
“You’re slow,” Noir remarked, as the Doctor unsaddled.
“Still haven’t changed have you now my boy? I already got you a birthday present, remember?” the Doctor said cheerfully.
“And I thanked you for it,” Noir replied in the same tone.
“I understand you may be a bit miffed about that but don’t take it personally, besides we’re leaving Earth forever you know? I hope the both of you’re ready, I don’t want any indecision,” he continued.
“A moment of hesitation leaves a lifetime of regret,” a female voice came.
“Does it not Ms. Wachira?”
“That’s miss-sus to you Doctor Christianson.”
“Oh really now? Congratulations.”
“I knew what death felt like,” Noir said, breaking them up.
“Oh and what did death feel like Mr. Lagonne?” the Doctor asked almost annoyed.
Grabbing hold of the armrest of the wheelchair and with great effort, he would lift himself up. Dismissing the help she offered, Noir stood wobbly on his own two feet for a while as he stared at the Doctor, balling his right fist. The Doctor shifted his gaze to it before a left hook would connect with his lower jaw, flooring him. He would sit up quickly, mouth agape in disbelief.
“A sucker punch, it felt like a sucker punch,” Noir replied with a smile.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment