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Frye’s Skell had lost is arms at this point, rending every single weapon it had absolutely useless.
Nagi had already bailed from his after getting caught by the massive swing of the tail of the rampaging Milliesaur that had entered the defensive perimeter of New Los Angeles footprint in Primordia.
Yelv had resorted to opening his cockpit to take potshots at the massive monster while waiting on anything bolted to the left side of his mech to recharge. The enemy’s ‘neck’ had been blown off to reveal the terrifying true face of the Brobdingnagian beasts that usually wandered fairly peacefully.
And Cross? Well, she was busy directing the sweep of drones across that face to finish blinding it, all while thinking just how the hell they were going to kill it and survive in the process.
“Frye, you have anything in the tank?” she called through the comms system.
“Thirteen hundred units of fuel and two legs, so I could kick it a while for you!”
“Yelv?” she asked with crossed fingers.
“Missile systems are coming back online, got two more volleys left at best, Pard. Want me to take the shot?”
“Hold on. Nagi?”
“Rifle’s overheating. Sword’s a needle compared to this thing.”
“Mmmh, and we have no backup because-”
“Because our Director General insisted on a push against the Ganglion fortresses in Oblivia.” Nagi confirmed.
“Got any miracles, Pard?”
Miracles, no, long-shots… one.
Was that long-shot foolhardy, expensive, and needing a lot of luck on her side to pull off?
Yes.
“Frye, pull back and get ready to set your Skell on autopilot to these co-ordinates. Oh, and set unit override to refuelling mode. Yelv, save your missiles for my mark. Nagi, get clear!” Cross barked, the dark-haired star of BLADE letting her hands dance across the controls to direct every ounce of power to her drone systems.
“Rook, done it but you know if I take a stray hit I’m going supercritical, right!?” Frye confirmed. “Wait, these co-ordinates keep… oh you crazy bitch I think I love you!”
“Cross, I’m clear. Think I should get a bit clearer. Commander Vandham’s not going to approve.”
Redoubling her efforts on the creature’s face, she got her chance when it roared in pain to wedge her Skell inside and send her drones in to play merry havoc with its guts. “Secretary, I think he’d like this thing in the C.D. checking out the sales even less!” Cross replied, tucking her lucky air freshener and the little ornaments she affixed to the console into the pocket of her flight suit.
A warning ping got her to pop the hatch. “Sorry, girl. Alexa and Lin are going to kill me, but that’s preferable to this thing.”
Her Skell didn’t respond, and she’d pray to the Great One, whoever that was, if the rewards for this would cover her repair bill. Her insurance was shot to shit from the amount of times her Skell had also been shot to shit. A toggle and then several warnings being ignored opened the vulnerabilities on her own fuel systems, not that there was much left in those tanks.
A click of the ejector seat mechanism sent her soaring clear as Frye’s disarmed unit flew into the maw of the beast followed by Yelv’s final missile volleys streaking and screaming in after it.
Even if the citizens of NLA hadn’t been watching the pitched battle on screen, they all heard the roaring explosion of two enriched Miranium reactors exploding, then the wet thud of limbs, torso and tail hitting the ground.
“Cancel pulling reinforcements back from the front line.” Commander Jack Vandham breathed a sigh of relief. “I need biological clean-up teams out there, and I need them out there five minutes ago. Also, someone get those four an itemized bill! I’ll beat every credit out of their ass!”
“Perhaps we can be… a little more lenient with them than we normally would.” Maurice Chausson mused. “After all, they did do us a favour.”
Jack grinned viciously. “I can be lenient. I’ll tie my arms behind me and kick them to Cauldros and back!”
They returned to the city clinging to Yelv’s Skell. Cross did get to sit on his lap, but to his credit he did offer to the other two first; age before beauty after all. Landing near the Sakuraba facility was… rough, but a cheering crowd had gathered to hear words of heroism and wisdom:
“If I don’t get this flight suit off I’m going to drown in sweat!” Cross grimaced, awkwardly tugging at her Skell gear.
“I can think of worse ways to go, Pard!” Yelv snickered, earning himself a swat on the arm.
“Well, Nagi?” Frye groaned, scrubbing at his face with both hands. “I’ve got a bottle of sake with our name on it? What say we all kampai to not getting killed?”
“Sake?” Kentaro mused, stroking his thumb along the scar on his face. “Too refined. I was going to suggest we do shots?”
“That’s our Secretary with the big brain play!” Yelv howled with glee. “Shots! Shots! Shots! You in, pard?” He looked at her and then quickly positioned his eyes above her head, given how low the zip had been slid down on the black skintight outfit with all the nerve matrices to link to her Skell’s NeuroCon systems.
“Let me get a shower and wear something a bit more celebratory, and yes, absolutely. Repenta in an hour?”
“An hour?!” Yelv groaned. “It takes two to get this tamed.” He pointed at his nest of blond hair.
“An hour’s fine with me. Need a trim?” Nagi asked, a hand… perhaps a little threateningly placed on the hilt of his katana.
“Works for me. Sorry ‘pard’, you’re outnumbered.” Frye grinned. “I’ll call ahead, give them time to prepare. We’re gonna tear this city up!” He paused, looking at how his outburst had distracted from Cross’… well, tract of skin being on display. That was an achievement in itself. “In a responsible, fiscally contributive mode of celebration!”
Showered, dried, and slipped into tight denim jeans, black steel-toed boots, a crimson vest and a leather jacket, plus some silvery bracelets styled like lunging tigers – a gift from the Wrothians – wrapped around her wrist?
Cross now was ready for her night out on the town.
“Now, you aren’t going to bring any strangers home, right?” Lin asked, a finger wagging at her as she delivered a pre-reprimand.
“No, not this time. Though, that dancer really liked your omelettes. She messages me more about that than… uh, the other thing.” Cross grinned, heading over to kiss her adopted little sister on the cheek. “How do I look?”
She pondered it before deciding. “Like I should get Elma to invest in a shotgun. Or a big stick. Oooh, a stick-mounted shotgun!”
“Send it to R&D. Don’t wait up for me, Sis.”
With a slightly long-suffering sigh, Lin nodded and had to joke. “I’ll suspend your bedtime.”
“No, seriously, don’t wait up for me. I’m drinking with Nagi.”
“… Good point, okay, I won’t. Urgh, you’re out drinking, Elma’s out dating, when’s my time?” she sulked, arms folded across her chest.
Cross did the math. “Eight years for the first, three and a stick-shotgun for the second.”
Lin kicked an unoffending pillow from the floor onto the sofa, snatching up her tablet computer as she went to flump on the lounger.
“At least I’ll always have fanfic...”
The guys scrubbed up well.
Kentaro Nagi with his black trousers—crease ironed in—charcoal roll-neck, and sunglasses? He looked straight out of a Yakuza film.
In black jeans and a mesh vest showing off tanned skin and a fit body, Cross wondered if the honestly delicious-looking Yelv counted as bringing a stranger home. Lin had done plenty of missions with him, after all.
Frye had opted for leathers and what Cross understood to be either a band t-shirt or an advertisement that extraterrestrial insects were being domesticated in the city.
“Cross, tell Yelv his hair’s fine.” Frye grinned, pointing at the fluffy tangle on hish ead.
“Yelv, your hair’s fine.” Cross grinned. “First round is on me.”
Cheers erupted as they entered Repenta Diner, with high fives, manly hugs, clasped hands and pats on the back as they made their way to the bar.
Four seats had been reserved for them and Cross’ card was waved away the second it left her pocket.
“Everyone pulled together, put a tab on for you guys. First round is on the house,” the bartender grinned.
Cross liked Repenta; it had lots of things that caught her interest. Games, places to dance, places to just sit and chat, food that hit the spot after a lot of alcohol, she was tempted to hit the karaoke later too.
“Most appreciated.” Nagi bowed his head. “Four tequila slammers!”
They salted with a lick, shot the booze back, gave the requisite slam and sucked their limes.
“Again!” Yelv grinned.
Their mimeosome bodies couldn’t get alcohol poisoning, and it took but a thought to clear the effects of the alcohol in their system.
Lick, shot, slam, lime.
“Another!” Frye slapped his thigh. “Darts?”
Salt, shot, slam, suck.
“One more!” Cross nodded. “Then darts!”
Back of the hand, back of the neck, back on the bar, and back to the fruit.
Each of the team took their three shots at the board, the computer tallying it up form them on a display that made it look like someone had scrawled it with chalk. The score didn’t matter in the grand scheme of thing, each with a foaming pint in their free hand just shooting the shit and sharing in the camaraderie and buzz after a life and death fight.
“So, aiming for another notch on your bedpost, Cross?” Frye grinned, nodding over to where some the Tree Clan dancers were waving at her.
“Promised Lin I wouldn’t startle her with a guest at the table come morning. You?”
The older man shook his head. “Never feel like it after a fight. All about the drinks!”
“Not finished this round yet, old man!” Yelv laughed, nudging Frye in the back. “Already wanting another?”
Cross shook her head, speaking over the music. “What about you, Yelv? Looking to take someone home?
He waggled his hand. “Not sure, depends on the person. You think Nagi might?”
They looked at where Kentaro was stood putting three in the bullseye while downing his beer in one to high-pitched excitement from some Ma-non clustered near him.
“Displays like that, I’d go with him.” Cross snickered, sticking her fingers in her mouth to wolf-whistle.
“Hell, pretty tempting myself.” Frye admitted, glancing at the startled Yelv. “What? Man’s gotta appreciate talent.”
“You finished nattering, or are you ready to try and match that?” Nagi asked as he approached, passing the darts back to Frye.
“If I do, you buy dinner?”
The Secretary considered the wager carefully. “If you don’t, you do.”
Yelv and Cross stood witness to the fact that Frye would be buying dinner.
Four B-52s got lined up and sunk, Cross on the left setting her glass down just as Frye on the right finished swallowing.
“Pool?” Nagi thumbed back to the unoccupied table.
Frye and Yelv exchanged a look—it would turn out that they knew his hustle.
“Sure!” Cross nodded, picking her glass back up to lap around the inside with a long lick of her tongue. “What are these two going to do?” she asked, setting the almost clean shot glass back on the counter.
The pair glanced at each other once more and spoke as one: “Air hockey!”
“Pizza?” The Secretary offered, gesturing to one of the laminated menus stuck to the counter top.
“Pizza!” Cross grinned, a thought booking out the pool table ready for them.
“Fries.” The other two men decided.
Repenta’s Dirty Fries had restorative properties, the rumour went, though the lack of voltant disappointed some of the Zabrogan customers with such a name.
Pool was an art form to the Secretary, an expression of maths and physics that he masterfully executed like most things in life.
Cross didn’t care that she was losing horrifically, it wasn’t the point of their night out. Standing there eating greasy pizza and drinking rum and cola as she watched him perform trick shot after trick shot with aplomb was just fun.
Having a pleasingly purple Prone woman draping muscular arms over her shoulders just made it all the better, and she alternated between feeding herself and letting her take bites of the pizza.
“Are you going to play, or just watch?” Kentaro asked, arching an eyebrow as he stared at her instead of the shot he made. Still potted it; he was just that good.
“You looked like you were having so much fun, Nagi.” Cross grinned, bumping her cheek against her companions.
“And you two have gone through half our pizza already while my hands were busy.”
And that was how it got to the point where the Secretary was being fed pizza and beer in equal measure while smoothly clipping balls into the pockets, cue after cue.
“Frye, got a question for you.” Yelv said, cupping one hand under the other before he shovelled fries topped with chilli ‘beef’ and shredded cheese into his mouth. The pair were taking a break from air hockey now that their food had started to cool just enough to use the toppings as a binding agent.
“Shoot, man.”
He asked just after swallowing. “It’s about Elenora… you think she’s hiding something?”
“No clue. I try not to think when it comes to women. Only leads to heartbreak.” Frye laughed. “If you want to ask her out, just-”
“Wait, who said anything about asking out?!”
“You gotta ask, man, you can’t just-”
“That’s not what I meant! Know what, forget it, let’s finish these and get back to our- huh, that’s new!” Yelv gestured to the table where two of the new Orphe almost had the idea of the game they were trying to knock the puck into the centre of the board as precisely as possible.
“… Hah, it’s just like curling! C’mon, let’s give it a go!”
Karaoke had to happen, and it was Yelv that Cross dragged up by the hand to the console to find a song to belt out. Frye and the Secretary were playing Blackjack with a deck Frye had pulled from his pocket, and the table they had claimed was already covered in heaped bowls of crispy-coated nuts and fresh drinks to down.
“It’s got to be this one, pard,” she grinned, jabbing a finger at the track ‘Drinking in L.A.’
It could be sung by two people, and Cross was already loading it up before her friend could protest. As they familiarized themselves with the lyrics during the spoken word intro, her hips began to move. It was danceable, making her think of hot beaches and cold beers, soaking up the heat of the sun only to quench herself in cool blue waters.
“We did nothing, absolutely nothing that day.”
Frye and Nagi chimed in from where they were sitting, watching the pair sing to the music with amusement.
Cross was having fun, but something niggled at her mind.
“What the hell am I doing drinking in LA?”
At some point, between another round of shots and dancing on the stage with the Tree Clan’s dancers, Cross had lost her boots and jacket.
She was pretty sure her boots were on the ground, and she had a suspicious her jacket was draped across the back of the chair where Frye was speaking a bunch of Reclaimers about pulling anything that remained of his Skell from the messy explosion they had cause.
There was a lot in life Cross didn’t know.
Her birthday, her parents, her childhood, or even if she had any of them. But she knew she loved to dance.
Getting back from a tough mission and heading to the club to shake her body, or just for the fun of it in her apartment while listening to music on the entertainment system. She’d been raiding the archives of the National Library to learn and making use of cultural exchange with their new xenoform allies.
Wrothian dances were fantastic and invigorating, while those of the Prone’s Tree Clan exuded smooth, rhythmic and sensual feelings.
Her mimeosome body was attractive, trim and toned and very receptive to her needs be it in the heat of battle, the stage, or… well, other locations, and the appreciative eyes on her made her feel connected to the others.
It’s why nights at the Repenta Diner were the best. She wasn’t an enigma – she was entertaining. And through that? She was entertained.
Nagi kept a close eye on the recruit to BLADE he met personally not long after her arrival in the city.
The Mediators could find no warnings or red marks against her after their discovery of the status of the Lifehold’s servers and the loss of continuity that should have doomed them all. He hadn’t expected any, he trusted his gut instinct in people.
Chausson was under the impression she was becoming a diplomatic incident waiting to happen.
There had been some tension when a Wrothian lady had climbed onto the stage to face off against one of the Prone dancers – there was plenty of bad blood between those who had come into contact with Ganglion – but it wasn’t long before all three were in some peculiar triangle dance-off that devolved into Cross losing her top and jeans to dance between them.
Kentaro was firmly under the impression the laws Cross would break might be public decency ones at most, but he could understand Maurice’s concerns.
Elma’s too.
Murderess was another possibility for kicking things off. The crafty, driven member of BLADE had walked in to see the scene in front of her of her colleague and friend, sometimes with benefits, dancing and drinking and kissing and having lost a bra at that point, and glanced to Nagi.
“Hopefully I can trust you to not antagonize things?” the Secretary asked.
“Oh, would I do anything like that?” she smiled with all the sweetness of cyanide.
“I’ve reviewed your record, and would remind you that Cross is one of Team Elma’s finest, and-”
“YO, MURDERESS!” Cross called from the stage. “Come and dance with us!”
“She’s also absolutely hammered.” Murderess rolled her eyes. “It begs the question why you’ve just stood by and let her get to that state.”
“Well, I’m here to unwind. Maybe you could de-escalate things, if you care to try?”
Sharon Effinger, the woman known as Murderess, considered that request carefully. Cross was a good laugh, fairly talented in the sack, and someone who could always be persuaded to have her back.
“C’mon, come dance with us, girl!” Cross beckoned her over, her two partners on stage letting out gasps as she gave their rears a squeeze.
Vaulting over the bar, Murderess retrieved one of the bottles of spirits she’d had put on reserve for her. “I’ve got a better idea. Nagi. Let’s see where this goes.”
Elma and Irina thought about a brief nightcap before returning home from their date. With any luck Lin would be asleep, and Cross out-cold after a busy day of indigen slaying.
What greeted them in Repenta Diner was Murderess doing shots out of her friend’s navel.
“… Home?” Elma suggested instead, backing away before Cross could see them.
“Best do my apartment, Colonel,” Irina recommended. “I’m not sure I want to be there for the morning after.”
“… Okay. But I’m leaving a message for Lin,” Elma commented as they stepped outside from the heat of a hard night of partying, quickly tapping a message into her communicator. “Maybe she can barricade the front door…”
“Got fever for the flavour,
payback will be later”
As the morning sun arrived, the party had moved outside the diner and outside the City.
A short walk from the West Gate was the crisp, blue waters of Primordia. Some portable stoves and grills had been acquired after Frye suggested a beachside fry-up for breakfast, and the odd procession of party-goers were sprawled on towels by the water’s edge.
Cross had taken herself up to the cliff, still of enough mind to do the calculations needed for her jump. A melancholy sensation had been lingering over her all night since the question of herself was raised in her mind. She didn’t honestly know how old she was. Any clues about her past before she was activated on Mira were missing, presumed mysterious.
She partied, kissed, danced, and drunk because for just a brief moment, it didn’t matter. She was the life of the party, and that was life enough…
Right?
Wrong.
Parties couldn’t run forever, no matter how dedicated a party-goer could be.
As the rising sun hit the water just right, the hero of BLADE sprinted forwards and flung herself clear into the water.
Her ears heard the cheer following her splash before the gargling rush of water insulated her from the world. Her mimeosome sank downwards, eyes fixed above to just watch the light recede. Those clear, crystalline waters went from vibrant blue to a dark navy, the depth counter on her in-vision display ticking lower and lower until the sand beneath her cushioned her impact.
Getting her arm blown off by the Ganglion meant she discovered she wasn’t human. Knowing she was in a robot body had enabled her to access all those hidden functions usually concealed. She had her ascent time calculated, and tailored the burn-off of alcohol in her biocirculatory plasma to that time.
Pushing off the ocean floor, she felt the buzz of the various narcotic substances she’d eagerly imbibed from a range of glasses, vessels, and body parts fizzle out of her system. It brought clarity, conscience, and realization as the lights grew brighter and the pressure on her frame decreased.
“I know that life is for the taking,
better wise up and take it quick...”
The breath she took on surfacing was the sweetest thing; just floating there with only the sky above.
Cross needed to be better.
She needed to know more about herself, and not fill her life with cheap distractions and casual flings.
Kicking her legs gently started her on her way back to shore, her slow pace giving her plenty of time to think. Lin was supposed to be looking up to her, and she was supposed to look out for the girl genius. Bringing home a constant procession of lovers was hardly the right message to send, nor was getting absolutely hammered after every mission.
What would Elma think if she saw her last night?
Yeah, Sharon was sexy, and they had a good time when they teamed up, but turning the body that helped quell the ganglion threat into a shot glass? The saviour of humanity might start wondering if all her hard work was worth it with such conduct.
“Hey, Cross!” Frye grinned. “Sausage in a bap? Burger? Bacon?” he gestured at his grill with the tongs he’d acquired from somewhere.
Cross shook her head, fetching one of the towels to wrap around her bare breasts. “I chipped in my share, treat yourselves to breakfast on the beach on me. I need to make sure Lin’s okay.”
She felt Nagi staring at her as she used that towel to quickly dry her hair. Her boots, jeans, jacket, top, and bra were gone with the wind. Her underwear was the only thing left from getting ready the night before.
“Anyone got my communicator?”
Of course the Secretary had secreted it away on himself. He offered it out, along with quiet words as she reclaimed it: “Everything okay? You were down there a while.”
“I think so. Just needed time to think…”
A stop off at L’s emporium got her something a bit fancier than a towel to wear, the cheerful blue alien getting her sorted with a fancy wrap of silvers and purples that shimmered in the light. The walk back through the city was fairly long without footwear, but by the time she got to the shop L had gained, she was almost home anyway.
“One wonders how you came to wander the city wearing your outfit of annual celebration!” L inquired, looking her over.
“My wh- oh, my birthday suit. Long night after a long day. I’m sure they’ll come back to me sooner or later.”
“If I come across them, I am sure to sell them back; with a reasonable fee of finding, of course.”
Cross grinned. “Of course. Have a good day, L.”
Nio, her silver tabby mim, watched her curiously as she came in the front door.
“Hey girl,” Cross ducked down, offering a hand out.
There was an unamused swish of the tail before Nio padded over, sniffing at that hand. Then there was a little lick, before finally everything was okay and she was getting her usual amount of nuzzles.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to worry you, Ni-ni,” Cross apologised, catching something in her periphery vision. “Or you, Lin.”
Lin Lee Koo came over with a steaming mug of coffee offered. “It’s okay. Elly, Nio, and I just read fanfic and ate snacks. Well, I read to them. And dictated. … They’re pretty good to chat to when-” She stopped as she was pulled in for a tight hug. “… Cross?”
“You’re a good kid, Lin.”
The genius pouted. “Hey, I’m not a kid! I’m almost fourteen now!”
“Well, I don’t know what I am, so… just take the compliment.”
The nod she got was followed by a soft kiss on her forehead. “Have you eaten? Your body can’t survive on coffee alone.”
“I was tempted by Frye’s beachside fry-up, then I sobered up and wanted to come home.” Cross tucked Nio under her arm and rose up, a long sip of coffee going down a treat. “Gyeran-mari?”
“… You’ve not got Zala waiting out there for another omelette, right?” Lin accused, a finger pointed at her big sister’s nose.
“It’s just me, the cat, and you.” A woof sounded from the living area. “And Elly. Tatsu still away with his family?”
“Yep! Well… I suppose under the circumstances, I can make you my best omelette. After all… you struck out.”
Cross nodded before thinking. “Wait, what?”
“You. Struck. Out!” Lin grinned at her. “No date? Bringing yourself home alone? It’s okay, you can’t win them all,” she giggled, reaching up to pat her on the head.
“I didn’t strike out! I had options, Lin! I just had an epiphany and thought… nope, not tonight!”
“Is that what it’s called? Well, frame it how you want, I won’t mock you. … Too much.” Lin lead her towards the kitchen. “Speaking of, where’s your clothing gone?”
Cross awkwardly scratched behind her head. “… Some things you just don’t want to ask.”
Lin smiled as Cross finished the rolled egg dish she enjoyed making. “You seem… better. Last night did you good?”
“Asked myself some questions and wised up. No more partying, or hook-ups!”
That was a new resolution.
"I... don't mind you meeting people, Cross," Lin said softly, "just..."
"I need to be someone you can look up to," Cross pledged.