[Nanoha] Through Troubled Waters Chapter 2

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[Nanoha] Through Troubled Waters Chapter 2

Postby Akuma-sama » Wed Nov 14, 2007 7:04 pm

“…and that’s about all Raising Heart and I got from the videos.”

As a handful of nods acknowledged the end of Nanoha’s report, Fate let her mind look over what they had so far: Seventeen highly prepared and equipped thieves, over three hundred victims, eleven stolen Lost Logia of various types (most of them, thankfully, relatively low-threat things like Jewel Seeds, as opposed to things like the Book of Darkness), three traitors on the run, one disappointed and sulking adopted daughter…

She winced at the last one. Vivio had not taken well to learning that neither she nor Nanoha had the time to take her to Michael’s Pizza as promised. After having thrown a world-class tantrum that Hayate had probably heard all the way to the main building, she had spent the rest of the evening pouting on the sofa. She would have also refused to eat had Nanoha not put her foot down, something Fate wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to do.

She sighed. Raising a child sure was a lot of work… Work she had never expected to end up with, all things considered… well, maybe; Midchildan magi-tech was pretty amazing at times…

“…and while analyzing all those samples is taking some time even with the equipment you have here,” Marquette-sensei was saying from the end of the table she was sharing with Shamal, and Fate scolded herself for not paying attention, “with everything we know, we managed to pin down the poison to seven possibilities, most of which are considered exotic and deadly to the extreme.”

Shamal took over, “One of them is particularly interesting, however…” she hit a button on her console, and the hologram of some kind of complex molecule appeared over the table. “This substance is known as ‘Maiden’s dust’. It appears as a very fine reddish-brown powder, is very hard to produce, very toxic and very illegal practically everywhere.”

“And why is it so interesting?” Hayate asked.

“Because of a… a rumor around it,” Marquette replied, pausing on the wording, as if hesitating to use such an unscientific term. “It’s completely undocumented, but they say some people turn out to be largely immune to it, meaning that besides having a bad allergic reaction, they don’t die,” she clarified, “I figure it might explain why we had survivors in the first place; if the poison really was one of those we think it was, then the dose they’ve been subjected to should have been fatal. The problem is that none of the traitors appeared to be wearing any kind of filters, which implies they themselves are immune.”

“And that they knew about it,” Vita noted. Shamal nodded.

“Yes. Which is the problem, really; no one knows much about Maiden’s Dust, certainly not enough to make a test to identify an immunity, except through direct testing.”

“Maybe there’s an antidote?” Hayate suggested.

Shamal shook her head. “Doubtful. There’s very little need for an antidote; a dose of only two PPB is lethal, causes generalized muscle paralysis and heart failure within thirty seconds. Our best simulations indicate that the brain suffers irreparable damage after half that time. I can’t deny the possibility that there might be a drug to cause a temporary immunity, though, but that’s beyond section 4’s knowledge.”

“I… see.” Hayate mused. Fate followed her train of thought silently: Section four was privy to Midchilda’s best brains. There was very little that went on in Mid’s universities that the Bureau wasn’t connected to in some way, or wasn’t aware of. The possibility that a high-level research on a deadly poison had discovered such a drug and hadn’t been detected was doubtful at best.

“How much money are we talking about?” Fate asked. “If this poison really is so strong and hard to make, I can’t imagine any producer would give it away cheaply.”

“Probably not, but if someone manages to get their hands on the means of production, it’s remarkably inexpensive; most of its ingredients are used in stuff like fertilizers or magical alloy forcing,” Marquette replied. “Of course, those means are, shall we say, difficult to acquire. Atomic destabilizers, quantum manipulators, tunnel and n-space generators, several magic cores at least, probably a D9’s worth of energy…”

“Lots of equipment that’s hideously complicated, extremely expensive and pretty much impossible to get quietly,” Shamal clarified. Marquette gave her a look, then glanced at the suddenly less confused crowd and had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Right. But we’re not completely sure this is the right poison yet, and the probability of them being able to get this particular one is small at best,” Hayate summed up, and waited for Marquette-san’s confirming nod before continuing, “in which case we can’t ignore the other ones. Our first priority is figuring out which way they went and catch up to them, therefore Zaphira, I want you and Vice to try and follow the thieves’ path. Seeing as no one reported a stray APC wandering around, it’s possible they have a hideaway somewhere, and it’s probably somewhere relatively close to the storehouse. If you find them, do not engage them. Tell Alto to keep her helicopter ready, and Vita?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be on standby with the Forwards. You are not to engage them without either me and Reinforce or Fate and Nanoha as backup.”

“Got it.”

“Failing that,” Hayate continued, “figuring out exactly who we’re dealing with here might help us find them, or give us a clue as to what’s going on. Therefore, Griffith-kun?”

“Yes ma’am?” the tall man stood at attention.

“I want you to gather up a few people and start looking for people who’ve bought unusual quantities of what’s needed to make these poisons.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Shamal, give him a list of possible ingredients, especially for this ‘Maiden’s dust’, as soon as possible. Asuna, try to confirm if we have the right poison.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marquette-san saluted, while Shamal nodded.

It was a good plan, Fate decided. If Zaphira and Vice didn’t find them, then figuring out who might have made that poison might hopefully take them to wherever the poison had been delivered, perhaps leading to some kind of clue as to where they were now. It was all very uncertain, and no doubt finding a poison maker couldn’t be easy, but at this point, it was the best clue they had. After all, it wasn’t like they had anything else; everyone and their dogs would love to put their hands on a handful of Lost Logia, so anyone would have the motives to do it, and there didn’t seem to be any other leads…

Wait, no. That wasn’t true.

“Any other suggestions?” Hayate asked.

“Yes,” Fate spoke up. “Griffith-kun, try to have some people looking for a purchase of seventeen power armors. Could you identify their builds?” she asked Nanoha, who glanced down.

Farsight Technologies Personal Protection Powered Armor, Model C-742.” Raising Heart replied. She glanced at Griffith, who nodded.

“Good idea,” he said while noting it down on his M2D. “I don’t suppose they used a military model delivery system for the toxin?”

I could not identify it. It is most likely a home-made system.”

“No,” Fate disagreed. “If the toxin really is so expensive, they wouldn’t want to let even a bit of it be wasted. Plus, they carried their suitcases on the way back, and if it really is that deadly, doing that with an imperfect system is just begging to lose people to accidental poisoning. No, the delivery system had to be made by a pro…”
Hm… maybe…

“Fate-chan?” Nanoha asked. Fate glanced at her, frowned, and then turned toward Hayate.

“I think I may know someone who could know about this… I think.”

“Someone?”

“An… unpleasant acquaintance of mine,” Fate grimaced.

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Lyrical Girl Magical Girl Nanoha
~Through Troubled Waters~
Chapter 2: Questions
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—Remembrance Grounds, Kuranaga area, Midchilda—
—Jolly’s Squat—
—October 29th 0076—


The metropolis of Kuranaga had a history that could be traced a few thousands of years back. Originally built on the fertile delta of a river long gone, it had expanded throughout Midchilda’s tumultuous and war-torn past to become the capital of the Midchildan Republic (the planet having been nameless and considered as the sole existing planet at the time) two hundred and fifty-one years ago, around the time of the Centennial War. At the height of its growth, the metropolis had taken a phenomenal size by any standards, counting over two billion souls tightly packed in an area roughly the size of Spain.

The main reason for this growth had been the war, as Midchildans had flocked to the city’s protection against the theocratic kingdom of Belka and its hell-bent will for domination against the only other major nation in the world. The flow of refugees had forced the construction of an ocean of high-capacity housings, which had rapidly expanded the city to its maximum historic growth.

In the final stages of the war, however, the losing kingdom had launched a last ditch attempt to destabilize Midchilda in what was unanimously considered as the darkest act of Midchildan history, and had thrown its last fleet of bombers, hundreds of rock-solid airplanes, each armed with a magic-enhanced neutron bomb, aimed directly at the teeth of Midchilda’s defenses and Kuranaga’s most densely populated areas.

Only a handful had made it through to drop their payload, and none had lasted very long afterward, but it had been enough; in less than a week, over 60% of Kuranaga’s population, about 30% of Midchilda’s and 15% of the entire planet’s, had perished from the blasts themselves or from radiation poisoning. To this day, the western side of the city has never recovered, and instead lies as a forest of abandoned buildings used by the GDF as improvised training grounds, known colloquially as the Dead Zone.

Instead of destabilizing Midchilda, however, this act had instead galvanized and angered its army to the point that, once the war was over, there had simply been nearly nothing left to destroy of the Belkan capital and people. The only remnant of the once strong Belkan kingdom now lied in the Church of the St. Monarch, which followed a far more benign sect of the Belkan God-King than the fanaticism that had pushed the Belkan war machine of the time, and had already been respected as an official religion in Midchilda as well.

In an odd twist of fortune, one of the ‘lucky’ bombers had made its way deeply inside Kuranaga to crash into the ancient fortifications that had surrounded the city before the war, and instead stood dozens of kilometers behind the city’s modern bounds. Because of the chaos resulting from the bombing, no one had had attention to spare for it until the end of the war, at which point the wound, although still raw, had been healed enough by cold Belkan blood to let Midchilda decide of its fate in a more rational manner.

This led to the creation of the Remembrance Grounds, consisting of the wall and bomber left as they’d been, a monument dedicated to making everyone remember the horrors of the final Midchildan war and that, for the seventy years that followed, enjoyed the commercial boom of tourism typical of such an attraction. Then, the Time-Space Administration Ground Defense Forces Headquarters had been built, and the area’s shop owners discovered that the giant spire’s shadow caused daytime to end about two hours early, something that greatly displeased day-farers as much as it pleased the nocturnal type.

It didn’t take long after this for the Remembrance Grounds, more commonly known as “The Wall” nowadays, to turn into the center of Kuranaga’s night life, a function it still serves to this day. And, inevitably, it had also grown as the area where crooks of all types, though especially the trading kind, enjoyed the most freedom despite the many attempts to solve the problem.

Jolly’s Squat, a strip-club built only a few corners away from the monument, was no exception. The somewhat roomy establishment entertained a daily clientele of about two hundred patrons eager to get drunk on alcohol and flesh, and hired a score of employees chosen more for their natural attributes than for their skills, to serve both as waitresses serving drinks in the maze with walls of circular tables and air of tobacco that was the lower section, or as strippers to catch the attention (and money) or already hypnotized clients.

Fate was already used to working undercover. Although she was relatively young, she’d already had plenty of experience working as a special investigator for the Bureau, a job that often required its agents to infiltrate potentially dangerous situations. She knew perfectly well how badly such jobs could end, and knew just as well that the only reason she was still alive today was her proficiency at magic. Today’s job, though, was nowhere near as risky, and as she carried a handful of glasses that reeked of alcohol to a table while giving a sideway glance at the pole dancer on the stage, she mused that it might even turn out to be fun.

Ano… Fate-chan, are you busy?

The process of taking a glass from her plate and putting it on a table being a trivial one, Fate replied, “No, not really… what’s wrong, Nanoha? Do you see him?

N…well, no, not yet… but…

Then what is it? ” Fate asked.

Do we have to be wearing this?

This was what Fate considered to be simultaneously the worst and the greatest outfit she had ever seen, as her brain was equally divided on the subject. On one side, the part of her that loved Nanoha’s soul couldn’t help but wish it could take over to deliver righteous punishment on those pitiful drunk low-lives who dared leer and drool at all the skin this revealed on the other woman. The other side of her mind, however, wished it could sit down and join them, even if Fate was also wearing the same thing. As a result, she did the next best thing and ignored both ideas.

This was Jolly’s Squat’s waitress uniform. Modeled after what Fate would expect the maid or familiar of a particularly perverted master to wear, it consisted essentially of a lacy bustier coupled with a flaring miniskirt that threatened, with every movement, to reveal the silk garter belt that held up a pair of stockings and partially covered the individualized but usually minimalist lingerie worn underneath. In fact, the garment seemed to be built especially for that; with every step the waitresses took, the cloth moved as if animated by a spell (which it could very well be, Fate mused) to tempt the unwitting patrons with an inviting flash of flesh.

There were two versions of the uniform to be seen wandering around: a white and a black version, and the latter seemed to be much preferred in the dark environment of the bar. As a result, Nanoha, who had preferred the white version, reflected the lights of the stage like the beacon of a lighthouse to every pair of eyes in the room; especially, Fate admitted, her own.

The original plan had been for Nanoha to pretend being a client, and Fate to act as a waitress. However, as Fate had been changing, Hayate had walked in (supposedly for some business she hadn’t revealed in the end, and of which Fate highly doubted the existence), glanced at the uniform with a glint in her eyes that Fate had definitely not liked, and proceeded to sweet-talk Nanoha into wearing it as well, “just to see”. The sight Nanoha had offered upon coming out of the changing booth, long hair pulled in long pigtails held in place by white ribbons, bushing like a bride and somehow managing to make this fetishist’s dream seem to be perfectly innocent had stunned Fate into dumbly agreeing to a last minute mission change, and so there they were, both serving drinks to low-lives drunk on alcohol and women.

She was going to have a talk with Hayate after this. A nice friendly talk, preferably over a very friendly no holds barred sparring session. It really wasn’t fair of her to abuse of her weakness like that…

Fate had to admit it made sense, though, since the overwhelming majority of Jolly’s Squat’s clients were male, which would have made Nanoha look quite out of place. Among the waitresses, however, Nanoha also looked quite out of place, as the others, wearing black and completely uncaring of what their strut revealed, unanimously evoked sensuality or lust, whereas her friend, wearing white and trying not to flash her knickers every which way, only managed a quiet charm of innocence.

Fate appreciated it a lot more. The clients also seemed to, which Fate appreciated a lot less.

It’s our mission, ” Fate replied, trying to ignore how her friend’s latest maneuver had allowed the client behind her to catch a glimpse of her pink panties, which he seemed to be greatly enjoying.

She did her best to ignore the fact that, before a few minutes ago, she hadn’t known the color of said underwear. She also did her best to ignore the fact that she knew exactly which pair it was.

I know, but it’s embarrassing…

Just focus on the job and less on the stares, ” she replied, although she silently mused that she’d better not worry too little about the stares. “Can you see him anywhere?

No… are you sure he’ll be here?

It’s my best bet. People like him need clients to know where to find them, and can’t afford to give private information like a phone number to just anyone, ” she explained. Her time as a special investigator during her Enforcer training had taught her a lot of things that Nanoha, who had focused her career on kicking ass and taking names (which she admittedly did with a rare panache), hadn’t learned. “Seeing as he’s been very careful to keep all his shadier deals disconnected to himself, he hasn’t had the need to move away or around, meaning he’ll probably be here some time tonight. ” Kept quiet of course was the possibility that he was busy that night. She was hoping he wasn’t.

Even if the alternative was spending another night in this bar with Nanoha wearing that. Really.

How do you know someone like him, anyway?

I’ve met him before; on my first case, actually. Led us to ‘some people’ who liked to deliver Fuzzy to other people who sold it to a high school in North Kuranaga. I suspect he only wanted to get rid of some overambitious clients who were becoming dangerous.

Fuzzy?

An addictive soft drug…” she resisted the urge to sigh. “You need to keep up with Midchilda, Nanoha.

Sorry, sorry… And you didn’t arrest him? ” Nanoha, bless her, seemed to be unable to understand the concept of not gunning the crap out of someone suspected to be a criminal; Fate managed to control her amused smile into becoming nothing but a twitch of her lips.

“[/i]No grounds. There was no mention of him anywhere in the files of anyone we arrested, and the money trails disappeared before going anywhere near him. We know he’s a creep, he’s just a damn good one who knows how to stay out of trouble. And if I’m right and he’s connected to this, then he’ll sing like a bird to get out of this one. Directing small fry drug sellers to clients is something, but selling a weapon that was used against the Bureau, well…[/i]” She smiled at a client, bending down just such to show some cleavage while taking his order on an M2D.

You think he sold the poison?

Doubt it. Too obvious. Too big. He’s a big fish, a very big fish, but in a relatively small pond, and throwing himself in biological weapons isn’t his style. The delivery system, though, now that’s more his style. He does fiddle a bit with nasty custom-made storage devices, or so we think, so I wouldn’t put it past him to have connections to some pretty talented mechanics willing to break a few laws for a few credits. Any one of those could have done it, but we’re not really interested in knowing which one. ” She stood back up, waving the floating interface away. “I’m going in the back now, watch the door.

Ok.

The owner and head cook of Jolly’s Squat had already received the order and had been in the process of fiddling with his pans’ heating spells when Fate walked in the kitchen. Upon seeing her, the portly man in a white cook uniform shot her a glare, which she pointedly ignored. Fate didn’t like him; he was a sleazy little toad with a wandering eye, and the fact that he had tried to flip Nanoha’s skirt when he saw her didn’t help at all.

He was, as far as she was concerned, a worthless bastard.

“Just so you know, I’m not paying you for today,” he grunted. The pan in his hand flared with a brief flame.

“That’s allright,” she replied. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

He grunted something that sounded like a derisive laugh while she filled herself a glass of water. His reaction was perfectly normal, though, considering she knew he was aware of what that usual client of his liked to do, and no doubt was paid quite a bit for his silence. And it was entirely likely that there was more than just their quarry who liked to do business in his bar in that case. Having undercover Combat Mages among his staff could not be among the things he really wanted, but he probably didn’t want to get himself in trouble with the Bureau either. It was most unfortunate that their mission had nothing to do about cleaning up the scum around here, but that was a job for the Midchildan police, which the Bureau was in no way connected.

Except for the occasional anonymous tip, which had already been delivered by someone with no contact to Section six, and who especially wasn’t their Enforcer.

“Our deal was for no arrests,” he reminded her. She hadn’t counted, but it had to be for the sixth time in one hour.

“Unless things get dicey,” she reminded back, also for the sixth time. “Which they shouldn’t, since we only want to talk to him.”

He grunted, clearly not believing a word. It wasn’t like he could ring up Hayate and say he’d changed his mind, though. For a few moments, the only sound in the kitchen was the sound of cheap meat frying in a magically heated pan, and Fate became increasingly aware of the ugly man’s equally ugly eyes on her. The pan finally rang, and as she approached the counter to receive the order, she nearly recoiled at the leer that came to his face then.

“Maybe I’d cooperate more if you offered to dance instead? Or maybe your little friend? We haven’t had a cutie like her on the stage in a while now, I’m sure the crowd would love it.”

He was more solid than steel. That was the only possible reason why he hadn’t melted at the glare she’d shot him.

Definitely a worthless bastard.

Fate-chan, he’s here! ” came Nanoha’s voice, and Fate forced herself to calm down.

“I’m afraid we will not have the occasion,” she replied diplomatically. “Hopefully your… tactlessness won’t be having me forgetting our deal at the wrong moment.”
The leer vanished and was replaced by a nervous frown. She left, satisfied with that.


Fate remembered Victor Stanz as an unpleasantly pleasant man, in that he emitted an aura of cheer and good health that naturally put people at ease, but that a second look would push away to reveal the fetid core of a brown apple and the maggots crawling around it. Back then, he’d been wearing a cheap replica of a Centennial war-era officer uniform, which consisted of a richly colored cotton vest closed with golden clasps, with black pants completing the uniform. He had ditched the practical black boots that would normally have completed such an ensemble, preferring instead the comfort of sandals and bare feet, as he did now.

He had changed little from Fate’s memories. Perhaps his gut was protruding a bit further over his belt, perhaps his hair had thinned a little, perhaps his chin had fattened up, and perhaps the rich stench of quality cigars that floated around him like a toxic aura had grown a little. But overall, she recognized him instantly when she saw him sitting on a handful of royally colored cushions like a Belkan king in one of the VIP areas in the back. A young woman who did not look like she was old enough to even walk in the building curled languidly around his feet and held his bottle of ale upright, though Fate saw her emerald eyes thin suspiciously between her neck-length purple locks as Fate entered the unequally lit lounge; some kind of bodyguard or sycophant, then.

“Victor Stanz,” Fate asked, although she didn’t need to, and it reflected in her tone.

“In the flesh,” he replied, appearing completely uncaring at first sight. Fate did not miss the way his hand slid under one of the cushions, where a storage device was probably hidden. “And you are?”

“Someone.”

He smiled a bit, probably used to evasive answers like hers. “Well, then, Someone, do you have business with me… or is it pleasure?”

He rolled a bit on the cushions to make himself more inviting, while the bodyguard’s glare grew stronger. Fate resisted a shudder. On the bright side, it didn’t look like he remembered her.

“Neither,” she replied. “I am merely looking for… information.”

“…oh?” He sat upright. He was curious now. “What kind of information?”

“Information that could put people who are connected to it in a lot of trouble,” was her reply. The young bodyguard tensed up again.

“Hm… I take it you’re with the bureau, then.” This time, the girl’s reaction was a snarl, and only the crook’s large hand falling on her head calmed her down. Definitely a sycophant. Maybe she was a familiar?

…or maybe she wasn’t? Fate mentally gagged in distaste.

“You may assume what you want.” It didn’t escape her that he immediately guessed she worked for the Bureau, instead of the police.

“So I will,” he said pleasantly. “Then, what does the almighty and benevolent Administration Bureau want with an honest and ordinary hard-working man like me?”

Oh of all the bullshit she’d heard… “Two days ago, one of the Bureau’s facilities was hit by a highly dangerous chemical weapon. The extent of the damage and the number of victims is unknown, as are the perpetrators of the attack.”

“How tragic,” he said, and his tone said everything that needed to be known about how much he cared. She heard the sudden nervous tone in his voice, though. “And how does it relate to this situation?”

“I have no business with you specifically,” left unsaid was that she could very well suddenly change her mind about that, “I just wish to know if you knew anything about that, considering your network of connections. It is, after all, entirely possible that you could have heard of it by inadvertence.” Like, say, from your own lips.

“Hm…” he paused, obviously weighing his options.

“The Bureau is actively looking for them,” she continued, “and I don’t think I need to tell you the kind of fate they would prepare for those who helped them commit their act… which both we and the bureau as far as we know do not believe you are in any way connected to.”

It almost hurt to lie that much, but it had to be done. The man in front of her was ultimately a coward; offer him a way out of trouble and he would take it, she knew.

“Why would I know anything about it, then?” he asked. He was obviously trying to sound impassive, but she easily sensed how nervous he was feeling at the moment, and she knew she had him. The thieves had indeed contacted him and hired his help, which wasn’t too surprising considering how well connected he was.

“Then you claim not to have heard anything about this?”

“Of course not.”

“And you would answer the same no matter how many times we came to ask?” Or with which weapon system, or with which battalion…

“Of course.”

“That is unfortunate,” and totally false. “Then we only wish to know one thing: if you were to, say, organize the sale of a gas weapon system,” he was suddenly more nervous, and she knew she’d been completely right, “where would you arrange the delivery to happen at? Theoretically.”

“A weapon system, you say?” It was such an obvious ploy there was no way a shrewd costumer like him didn’t see it. Between the obvious way out and the stick waiting for him if he didn’t cooperate, though, she expected him to sing like a bird in spring.

And she wasn’t disappointed.

“Of course, I do not peddle in such matters, but theoretically, if I were to deliver such an embarrassing piece of equipment, the best place for such a trade to happen would be in a park, where no one would notice a package hidden in a bush, with an obvious landmark like a fountain nearby,” he spoke evasively, and Fate double-checked that Bardiche was noting everything in his memory. “I’d also make sure it’s a fairly deserted park… yes, Memorial park would be perfect for that, I think… Not that I’d know anything about weapon systems or anything, but my work sometimes forces me to organize package deliveries without the exchanging parties ever seeing each other, you see…”

“And confidentiality means you cannot reveal the nature of that kind of work,” Fate completed from memory, having heard the same excuse being used in the past. Then she mentally slapped herself when he blinked at her, and the light of recognition started to shine in those small eyes.

“Yes… you… …wait a second… that hair… and especially those eyes…” His eyes widened in recognition, and a wide grin appeared on his face. “Well well, if it’s isn’t the little bunny!” He laughed. It sounded like a dirty mutt choking on a bone. “You’re just as breath-taking as you were back then, princess. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

Great. Now he remembered her. Nice work, Fate.

Well, at least she got what she wanted out of him first.

Is there something wrong? ” Nanoha asked. Fate knew she was listening in, as Bardiche was transmitting everything he was sensing to Raising Heart, who most likely delivered it directly to her mistress, and that the question meant less what it seemed to than it did “Do you want me to bust in and break heads”.

I’m fine, ” she replied. “I’m almost done. ” Then, out loud, she said, “No, I did not. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“So cold, bunny… I’m sad now,” he drawled with a shit-eating grin. Surely that was grounds for arrest. Had to be. Or at least grounds for Plasma Lancer. Surely Hayate would grant her pardon. “Oh well. I guess you’re busy, so I won’t hold you up any longer…” she was already leaving, probably the only reason why he was ‘graciously’ dismissing her. “Good luck catching them, bunny. They’re so lucky, getting chased by a little beauty like you. I’m almost jealous!”

You just look forward to that day when I’ll be arresting you, you sick bastard. I know I will.


“Are you… ok?” Nanoha asked as she sat on the passenger’s seat of Fate’s convertible and closed the door with a lot more reserve than the blonde had just used.

Fate nodded sharply, then reached for the ignition key and twisted, starting the engine with a whistle of magic. “I’m fine,” she repeated.

“You’re not.”

“…I’m not.” She admitted. “He makes me sick.”

“I admit having someone like him flirting with me would make me sick too, but you’re overreacting…” Nanoha, bless her, knew Fate a little too well at the moment. The blonde sighed.

“I told you I met him a few years ago, right?”

“Yes… something about your old case? Or did he try anything back then?” She sounded like she’d gladly have razed the building here and now to get him if he had, and Fate felt her heart flutter a little.

A little part of her was disappointed she’d only have done it out of friendship, instead of jealousy. She shushed it.

“Thankfully not. He was just like he was now, charming like a dressed up toad and flirting anything with a skirt, including me.”

“So what’s the problem? Besides the obvious.”

“I met him on my first case, Nanoha. How long ago was that?”

“First case… that had to be about 8 years ago, right—…oh. You mean you were…”

“Eleven years old,” Fate confirmed.

“And he… …ick.” Nanoha muttered after a second. Fate nodded.

“Yeah.”

And she drove away, leaving Jolly’s Squat, the artificial night of The Wall and the privateers it harbored behind.

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—West Kuranaga—
—October 29th 0076, 18:12—



“Blue’s Square,” Doctor Asuna Marquette read from the M2D levitating at the entrance of the parking, as she and Doctor Shamal closed the door of their borrowed GDF-issue jeep. The blonde doctor had introduced the establishment as the favorite R&R bistro for Section six’s employees, and for many of the other Bureau facilities that operated around the Dead Zone, partially due to its location within very easy access of the western highway, only a few blocks away from the inhabited border. This explained the fact that more than half of the vehicles parked around it seemed to be Bureau standards.

Had the two story building housing Blue’s Square been just a bit taller, it could have been called Blue’s Cube. It was a modestly sized building of neo-modern light grey Plascrete bricks and windows from which a warm yellow light filtered through some kind of diffusion spell. It was framed on every side by a small garden of hardy bushes and flowers long dead in the autumnal wind, except where the short roofed porch around the front door replaced it. She guessed it must have looked lovely in summer, but in the cold wind of fall, the establishment’s exterior struck her as rather lonely.

The interior, however, was much different. Within a few seconds of opening the door, she saw uniforms from four different Bureau sections, all in various state of dishevelment, mingled with civilian clothing, often at the same table. There was a delicious smell floating about, spices mixed with frying meats and vegetables in a way that immediately sent her stomach to noisily reminding her it was empty. Sounds filled the air, a faint sizzling from the kitchen drowned in that unique sea-like sound that a crowd enjoying its time makes.

A handful of M2Ds floated around with menus, orders or television shows on them, sharing the alleys with young familiars acting as waitresses. There was little to no separation between the tables which, combined with the common employment of so many patrons, led to many discussions being had between groups of ten or more, though none of it seemed to concern work. A perky cat-eared familiar wearing tight shirt and hip-accentuating jeans hopped by them, accepting their coats to take them in the back.

That’s around the time the person who later introduced herself as Blue showed up.

“SHA~MAL~CHA~A~N!”

The exuberant exclamation was accompanied with a colorful blur as Blue, an imposing woman in a glittering purple and yellow dress, long legs and high heels, seemed to teleport in front of them to take Shamal’s small hands in hers. Asuna felt downright tiny next to her; Shamal was already taller than her by half a foot, but the newcomer was even taller, with surprisingly broad shoulders and large arms.

“Oh~ It’s been too lo~ong!” Blue crooned, one of her hands moving to brush some non-existent dust from Shamal’s uniform coat. “What have you been doing? And is anyone else here? No? Not even Haya-chan, Nanoha-chin or Fate-chuan, aww, how disappoi~nting… And wait, who is this?”

Shamal appeared completely at ease with Blue’s rapid speech, unlike Asuna. It took her a few seconds to realize the subject, such as it was, had fallen to her. By then, Shamal had already introduced her by name and function, adding that “she’s only here for until we finish our current job. It just didn’t feel right not to introduce her to this place before then, though.”

“Oooh? Where will you end up after this the—oooh, wait wait, pardon me~,” the exuberant woman interrupted herself, “I didn’t mean to ask for Bureau secrets! Forgive me, Shamal-chan~?”

“Just this once, so long as the food’s good,” Shamal jested, and Blue made a show of looking relieved, prompting a few chuckles from around the room; it seemed like the woman made a bit of a stir with her welcome, although Asuna had a feeling she caused a bit of a stir wherever she went.

She was also getting the feeling that there was something strange about her… besides the obvious.

Blue turned back to Asuna with a whirl of long blonde curls and smiled with full teeth. “Do you think you’ll be able to come here after you’re done?”

“I doubt it,” she replied honestly. What was it… was it her hair? Her smile? Or… was it… was that…

“Awww~w! That is such a shame!” Blue crooned, stepping back and covering her face with a hand. The coat-carrying familiar made a show of pouting in disappointment. “Well then, we’ll just have to make it a night you’ll never for~get~! Ju~lie-chan, tell the girls to prepare something special for our guests, will you plea~se?”

“Yes mistress!” The familiar chirped, then bounced off to the kitchen, giving the coats to another along the way.

Blue grinned widely and led them to an empty table near the middle of the room. “Well ladies, have a gr~eat time! It’s on the house!”

“Why, thank you Blue, I’ll have to bring guests more often,” Shamal said, although she added, “of course, that might be the whole point,” with a teasing edge.

“How ho~rrible, Shamal-chan!” Blue gasped. “I’m hurt!”

“Mistress, phone call!” came a shout from near the front door.

Blue’s grin became a smile and a wink, and she said, “Well, duty calls. Enjoy yourselves, Asuna-chan, Shamal-chan,” before leaving with a flutter of her skirts.
After looking at the departing person’s back for a few seconds, Asuna turned toward Shamal and voiced her suspicions.

“That was a man, wasn’t it.”

“You’re pretty sharp, I see,” Shamal giggled. “Welcome to Blue’s Square.”

The menu floated in, and Asuna took a look. She smiled. “I feel quite welcome already, thank you.”

----------------
—105° W, 54°N, Spineridge Valley, Verde Mesa, Midchilda—
—Time-Space Administration Bureau GDF-controlled Restricted Area 72—



Sitting in the comfortable and well worn pilot seat of Helicopter #1, Storm Raider, Vice glanced at the indicator panel in front of him, at the little blip in the corner where the outside temperature was noted. Verde Mesa was quite a bit north of Kuranaga, a little less than halfway between it and the north pole, and combined with the late time both in the year and in the day, it served to explain the uncomfortable “4°” he was seeing there. Oh, he was fine, sitting there in the heated cabin, but he knew that just eighty-three point six meters below him, beneath the thick canopy of giant evergreens that covered the lands, his partner was following a road he could barely see in the darkness of the night, naked as the day he was born.

It was important to note that the notion of “naked” had little importance to a wolf-type familiar with a thick pelt of fur.

That is, if Zaphira was a familiar. He wasn't clear on the wolf-man's relationship to the boss lady, or even how Vita-chan, Shamal-san and Signum-neesan fit in the picture; he dimly remembered hearing her call the boss lady her “master” (or was it Meister? His grasp of Belkan had never been too good), but...

“Still ok there, buddy?” He asked telepathically.

I am fine, ” Zaphira replied. “I do not require rest for now.

Oh well, it didn't matter. The wolf-man was the wolf-man, familiar, guardian beast or whatever. He was a stoic and wise old dog who, at the moment, was being ten times too stubborn for his own good.

Proximity warning, increase altitude five meters, ” Storm Raider said, and Vice quickly followed his instructions.

Yes, so, if Hayate really was his master, then his stubborn refusal to stop following the trail for the night would make sense. It didn't help that Vice had no master, and that he didn't want to have to explain to the boss lady why he'd crash landed one of her helicopters in a tree because he was flying nearly blind at ten PM; the disadvantage with magic drives was that the same energy was used to make the rotors spin and the lights shine, and even magic did not come in infinite quantities.

Perhaps you should head back to Long Arch and report for now, ” Zaphira suggested. “Remaining here will not be a problem for me, but you must be running low on fuel.

Fuel reserves are fifty two percent depleted, ” Storm Raider reported in agreement. “Estimated flight time remaining before point of no return, thir--

“Storm Raider, shut up.”

There was a slight pause before his device replied, “Understood.

“And sorry, Z, but I can't do that. The boss lady'd skin me if she learned I came back and left you without cover. You're tough and all, but if we stumble on them, you'll need backup.”

I doubt we will find them so quickly, if at all.

He was probably right, too; Verde Mesa, being a plateau roughly fifty kilometers wide created by freak circumstances of tectonic movement that pushed the massive rock up like a cork, surrounded by treacherously sheer cliffs was one of the most inaccessible and remote areas of Midchilda, which showed in the fact that its coniferous forest had been left almost completely untouched by man. Trees that Takamachi-dono and general Yagami would have compared to oversized versions of Earth’s pines stood sometimes a hundred meters tall, forming a nearly unbroken blanket of spiny leaves forty meters thick and strangling whatever plant would have wanted to grow beneath in a perpetual night.

As a result, except for the massive, sometimes meters wide trunks that supported those mighty titans and the occasional rotting husk of a fallen giant blocking huge swath of lands from passage, there were very few obstacles anywhere, and since the trunks were spread very sparsely, there was a lot of trails that the thieves could have taken, even with something as bulky as an APC. Coupled with the thieves’ Groundhog-class APC’s limited hovering capability, it meant that they could have got off the main path anywhere (which they must have had) and could fly off the mesa from anywhere (which they could have done already if they’d taken the shortest path (which they didn’t seem to have)) without having to take a chance on the man-made and heavily watched bridge that connected the storehouse to the outside world (which they hadn’t), which is why Zaphira was down there on the main path, trying to track the point where they had left the beaten dirt road.

His helicopter was equipped with infrared vision, but the bitterly cold nights around this area meant that that trail had vanished even before they’d even known about the attack. It also had a madar (Magic Detection and Ranging) system, but their stolen ride was shielded against those, just as it was protected against telepathy detection systems or fourth-dimensional tracking.
The bureau made damn good equipment. Too good, sometimes.

Said dirt road was about twenty-six kilometers long, but as Zaphira was carefully trudging along to make sure he didn’t lose the trail, their chances of catching up to the runaway thieves so early were minimal at best—fortunately, their aim was less catching them and more finding where they’d fled to; if they had somehow found themselves a transdimensional ride, then no amount of searching on Midchilda would solve the problem, and the case would be relayed to the Main Branch, and would end as an unavoidable failure for Section 6’s first mission; not exactly the kind of first impression an elite section wanted to have.

“Doesn't matter.”

Then you are being stubborn.

“You're the one to talk.”

Amusement. “Perhaps.

And then, the only sound that came to Vice's perception was the rhythmic beat of the helicopter's rotor, and the wave-like whistle of the window rustling between the branches. The night was clear with the few clouds present clearly drawn by the bright silver light of the two full artificial moons and the dim glow of Alke, one of Midchilda’s two natural moons.

Proximity warning, increase altitude by two meters.

Whoops, better stop paying attention to the sky, and start looking at what could take him out of it!

I smell something, ” Zaphira reported after Vice had completed the maneuver.

The pilot straightened up, unconsciously reaching for Storm Raider’s key. On his own, Storm Raider changed the environmental data screen to show infrared instead. “What is it? Did you find them?”

Could they have had a technical problem? How convenient would that be?

I don’t think so, ” Zaphira replied. “I’m going to check.

The infrared vision wasn’t seeing anything, but that didn’t mean much; once stopped, the thieves’ stolen ride cooled very quickly.

Far too good equipment.

“Hold on, I’m coming.” He set the helicopter in automatic hover mode, pulled out Storm Raider, then went in the back section and grabbed one of the descent cables. He paused a second, looking at the forest of spines below in trepidation, before throwing himself down, right into the mess; his barrier jacket made it less unpleasant than it could have been. Once down, he transformed Storm Raider in weapon mode and moved in where he knew Zaphira was.

When he got there, at the edge of the rarely used but clearly visible dirt path, he found Zaphira, in human form—boy, but he was big, wasn’t he…—squatting a little bit off the trail, looking at the ground like a Scrya tribesman. Zaphira grunted once, and Vice didn’t know why until he moved close enough to see what had interested the wolf-man. And even then, it took him a second for him to realize what he was looking at.

He gagged a bit.

----------------

“Can you confirm that?” Brigadier-General Yagami Hayate asked in consternation. In front of her, the windblown face of Vice floated in an M2D. The young man shook his head.

“Not certainly, but as far as we can tell, the bodies are those of Sikorsky, Verissa and Miata. Whatever happened, it looks like we’re not hunting traitors down anymore; that clue’s a dead-end, bad joke not intended.”

“I… see.” Hayate lied. She wished she saw what this meant, though. “Thank you, Vice-kun. Come back now, get some rest. The search will resume in ten hours.”

“Aye aye, ma’am.” She saw Zaphira move closer and smiled inwardly, knowing what he wanted.

“Lady Hayate—” “Denied, Zaphira,” she interrupted. “I know you’d be able to handle yourself alone out there, but I’d much prefer if you were rested and ready and with backup when you find them.”

She ignored her doubts about whether or not they’d be able to find them at this rate; the safety of her people was more important.

“…understood.” It didn’t sound like Zaphira agreed, but he wasn’t going to disobey her. She smiled and banished the M2D away, mulling over the report.

Either it was a clever ruse, or Sikorsky, Verissa and Miata were dead, and had been killed only a few hours after the attack. What had happened? A schism, so soon after the attack? Had the underlings overthrown their leaders, or had those three been pawns all along? Maybe they hadn’t been as immune to the poison as they’d thought?
Hayate felt a headache growing as possibilities jumped around and mixed into an undecipherable mess.

“What’s going on?”


End chapter 2: Questions

Notes:
The M2D thing is a nod at Satashi and her Sixth Division series. Mostly, I was tired of writing “Vidwindow” or “Floating console” or whatever. M2D is a perfectly decent way to call it, as far as I’m concerned. Media Display Device. Why not MD² then? ‘cuz I decided so. End of story.
Last edited by Akuma-sama on Thu Nov 15, 2007 6:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Comartemis » Wed Nov 14, 2007 11:39 pm

Looking good Akuma, looking very good. Just one problem; you need to decide whether you're going to call Nanoha's device 'Raising Heart' or 'Raging Heart', because you're switching back and forth between chapters.

Putting Blue in was a nice touch; you gotta love 'WTF?' moments like that.

Yay for the N&F pairing! :D

looking at the ground like a Scryer tribesman

Don't you mean Scrya?
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Postby Akuma-sama » Thu Nov 15, 2007 6:42 am

Comartemis wrote:you need to decide whether you're going to call Nanoha's device 'Raising Heart' or 'Raging Heart', because you're switching back and forth between chapters.


...d'oh.

Don't you mean Scrya?


Ah...? Hold on...
d'OH!

Fixed now.
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Postby Spokavriel » Thu Nov 22, 2007 1:59 pm

“Probably not, but if someone manages to get their hands on the means of production, it’s remarkably inexpensive; most of its ingredients are used in stuff like fertilizers or magical alloy forcing,” Marquette replied.
You didn't really end any of the sentences before "Marquette replied." and I think that it should be forging instead of forcing.

The somewhat roomy establishment entertained a daily clientele of about two hundred patrons eager to get drunk on alcohol and flesh, and hired a score of employees chosen more for their natural attributes than for their skills, to serve both as waitresses serving drinks in the maze with walls of circular tables and air of tobacco that was the lower section, or as strippers to catch the attention (and money) or already hypnotized clients.
This is one sentence. When you have ands with only one word between them it's a bit of a red flag. Then this sentence has what 3 ands? It could use some cleanup. Oh and at the end after the and money in brackets you have an or where it should be of.

Fate would expect the maid or familiar of a particularly perverted master to wear, it consisted essentially of a lacy bustier coupled with a flaring miniskirt that threatened, with every movement, to reveal the silk garter belt that held up a pair of stockings and partially covered the individualized but usually minimalist lingerie worn underneath.
Still grabbing the whole sentence, just to say individualized should be individuals.

The sight Nanoha had offered upon coming out of the changing booth, long hair pulled in long pigtails held in place by white ribbons, bushing like a bride and somehow managing to make this fetishist’s dream seem to be perfectly innocent had stunned Fate into dumbly agreeing to a last minute mission change, and so there they were, both serving drinks to low-lives drunk on alcohol and women.
Ok this runs it into the ground. The sentences need to be looked at again to see where they really should break. The typo this time is on blushing you have bushing.

“Seeing as he’s been very careful to keep all his shadier deals disconnected to himself,
Disconnected from or distanced from disconnected to just is in conflict.

“[/i]No grounds.
Accidentaly used a slash in the itallics making it so both showed up and not working.

It wasn’t like he could ring up Hayate and say he’d changed his mind, though.
Is that ring suposed to be bring?

I like how it's going so far. I'd personnaly like it if it were a ruse with clones that were killed. I mean you described the thieves well and I kinda wanted to learn more about them and not just as other peoples testimonies.
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