November 1st, 2880 AD
Earth Orbit
A spindly form hurtled through the void. It was funny, its pilot thought, how the faster you went the slower it seemed to feel. The VOB unit at the back of her NEXT broke apart, its fuel expended, as the form of the Earth loomed large.
To say it was imposing was an understatement. You'd have to be insane to fight this close to the atmosphere... or extraordinarily talented. There were growing specs on the horizon, and the NEXT's bladed head tilted in their direction, camera eye whirring and clicking as they came into focus.
Omer demanded nothing less - and all too often had been shown to conveniently confuse one for the other, so long as it got them results they wanted. Quickly, she sent out a status update - and the reply was instantaneous. As unlikely as it was for Omer to lend out one of their top NEXTs to GA America, apparently their need was dire enough they were willing to pay any price. Stolen files by a defecting test pilot were hardly unusual - but this time, GA had been abnormally insistent.
Enough to risk sending her into the meat grinder. Still... she would have taken the mission anyway.
This, after all, was personal.
"This is Seti. Target identified. One shuttle, three escorts."
"You have your orders. Stop them at all costs."
"Lethal force?"
"If necessary."
"...Understood."
With a roar, the Armored Core's Overboost system kicked in, catapulting her forward the last stretch on a white flare. The three blips from before now were taking distinct shapes, peeling off from their defensive positions.
(Jegans?)
As soon as her assessment was in, the lead machine opened fire with its shoulder-mounted missile pods, sending all six warheads her way. The Overboost cut as the X-SOBRERO frame danced wildly, the powerful rounds bursting about her, rattling the thinly armored craft to the core - but the field held, somehow. No direct hits, but-
(Too well armed to be Coyotes. Vultures?)
One Jegan was already closing in, raising its shield to release another set of stored missiles - but this time, she was ready. The Fragile's shoulder-mounted chainguns opened with a roar as she jinked her AC up and over, the force the surprisingly slender weapons were able to bring about evidently catching the Mobile Suit by surprise, as bullets raked its body. Sparking and popping, it fell past her NEXT before detonating, its chunks falling towards the atmosphere behind them.
"Too slow!"
The second Jegan burst through the smoke of its former comrade, beam saber glowing wildly in its grip. A swing grazed the edge of the Kojima particle field, turning it into a scintillating lightshow as the two clashed, plasma straining to force its way through - but it proved to be a futile effort, as with some difficulty, the Sobrero tore itself free, jinking about the Jegan as its handheld rifles flared. Once - twice - thrice! A barrage into the exposed rear of the Mobile Suit ended its resistance for good.
Her eyes turned to the shuttle. Not much longer and it would be too far along re-entry to halt.
That only left-
A grinding crash brought her back to reality, the Fragile spewing flames and vapors from its cooling ports as its Primal Armor shattered, crackling like glass under a sharp, sudden impact. The Stark Jegan now advanced freely, discarding the heavy weapon, snapping up a beam rifle from its waist armor. Spears of light punched through the void, blinding in their brightness as she danced like never before. The pull of the atmosphere was getting too intense to ignore, now. If she stayed where she was, without Primal Armor, the Fragile would be crushed like a child's toy by reentry.
"Do you think Mercenary trash can slow down an Omer Lynx?!"
Failure was not an option.
Couldn't go around him. Couldn't go over him. That left only one choice.
Through him.
Her foot slammed down on the accelerator, and the Fragile burst forward, catching the Stark Jegan by surprise. The Beam rifle fired- and scythed through her shoulder, sending one of the chainguns hurtling off into space. The NEXT collided with the Jegan, the force of its rush crumpling its frail upper body, but successfully sending the Mobile Suit tumbling. As it fought to bring itself back upright, the last thing the pilot saw was the Fragile's one remaining arm bringing its rifle to bear, eye glowing menacingly.
The barrel flared, dumping the magazine with such swiftness that it glowed red-hot, pounding round after round into the Jegan's chest, tearing the cockpit apart in a bloody spray of oil, viscera, and metal.
With no more time to lose, she tore after the Shuttle, putting it in her sights as the chaingun rolled back over her shoulder. Only seconds left. Her fingers tensed on the trigger. This was it.
Time to finish things.
September 14th
Omer Science Hub #122
Lynx Calibration Lab, exterior
Sunset
"After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead..."
At length she paused. A timid footfall had reached her ear. Sola waited expectantly, letting the guitar fall onto her lap. After some time passed, a voice spoke - and she had to wonder just how long Omer's Ace had been listening in.
"I don't understand that song."
A cold, sharp tone, bereft of emotion. Seti Veasna, one of Omer's pride and joys, narrowed her eyes at Sola, as though she were attempting to play some kind of trick on her.
"Oh? Hello Seti." She said, not bothering to look away from her instrument, giving a kind smile.
"Why doesn't the horse have a name?" The Lynx asked, insistently.
"Wouldn't the singer be foolish to trust an animal he knows so little, on such a dangerous journey, that he hasn't even thought to give it a name? Even our ACs have names."
Solana just nodded along, almost absent-mindedly. Her fingers moved over the guitar, slowly, carefully tuning it. A touch here, a turn there... and it would sing just as if it were brand new. She had come to enjoy Seti's strange perspectives on the world in her short time with the League, how she tried so hard to fit everything into her little box. Omer's mental conditioning was the real deal.
"Does it need to make sense?" She asked, gesturing for the young Lynx to sit alongside her. Stiffly, Seti folded herself up alongside the woman, her movements almost mechanical for one with no cybernetic components. Omer was proud of that - their last attempts at meddling with cybernetics had been... somewhat less than successful.
"It should." She said, determinedly. "All things should."
"Would that make life easier for you?"
"For everyone."
Sola wanted to stifle a laugh, but masked it as a sneeze. Still feeling Seti's intense look upon her, she made a show of thinking about it carefully, drumming her fingers on the guitar as they looked out upon the Colony's interior.
"Some things are meant for you to find your own meaning in them. Maybe it's not about telling you what to think, but to let you figure it out yourself?"
"That's..."
Seti lapsed into silence, her face running the gamut of pained expressions as she sought to grasp what she had not once been exposed to: the notion of deliberate uncertainty. Sola strummed again on the instrument, and smiled again at the sound it produced. Finally, Seti spoke again, exasperation filling her voice:
"...But what if I'm wrong?"
"So, what if you are?"
The sheer audacity of this remark seemed to stun the Lynx into silence. Sola finally laughed - though it did not, for once, Seti registered, seem to be the kind of laughter directed at her. The blonde stretched out her hand towards her, offering a handshake.
"Then, let's be wrong together, amiga. It'll be fun."
Seti looked down at the outstretched hand. It was the first time anyone in her entire life had treated her as such. This strange woman who had come barging into her carefully controlled, measured, black-and white life and thrown everything into disarray, who felt like chaos incarnate, now wanted to be... friends? Had she ever even had a friend? She knew what it was, what the definition was, but...
She grasped her hand, and Sola returned the grip, as the sun fell behind the two of them. She had a vague sense that something was starting, but the uncertainty of that too was of little comfort.
"You don't..." Seti mumbled, still unwilling to relinquish her palm. "...make any sense..."
After a little while, Solana politely reached forward, and extracted the seemingly frozen young woman's fingers from her own, causing her to start. They returned to a comfortable silence, but it wasn't long before Seti spoke again - this time, more delicately, haltingly, than before.
"Can I... hear some more? Maybe I'll understand it then. I mean, we can try understanding it. Together. Maybe."
The last flickers of light danced across the horizon, and a chill was picking up. Solana gave a shudder - but nodded, picking up the guitar.
"Sure."
Present Day
The whine of warning claxons in her ears brought Seti back to the fight. One directive had been implanted in her consciousness above all else, and it screamed at her over the reluctance that lingered in her heart:
Finish the mission!
[DANGER: AMS FEEDBACK DETECTED. RELEASING PSYCH-BREAKERS. ]
The chaingun flared, and she screamed in pain, as if an electric shock had slammed through the front of her head. Nevertheless, the shots hit home - and the back of the shuttle exploded in a burst of flame and metal, sending it in a tailspin down towards the planet below, hemorrhaging foul, acrid smoke. The X-SOBRERO's remaining thrusters fired in unison, straining against the pull of the atmosphere, until finally its Overboost activated, sending it rocketing back up into the welcoming grasp of the void. The Fragile drifted now, almost little more than a shattered collection of splinters held together by its sputtering, flickering PA field.
Sure enough, on the horizon was an advancing troop of SOLARWIND Normals, their blocky, familiar forms moving as fast as their primitive designs could. Better late than never. Her vision swam, and she opened her eyes, gaze still on the dwindling form of the shuttle... and aboard it, she thought, the only woman she had ever called a friend.
"Sola..." Seti whispered, as unconsciousness washed over her.
"Why...?"
Earth Orbit
A spindly form hurtled through the void. It was funny, its pilot thought, how the faster you went the slower it seemed to feel. The VOB unit at the back of her NEXT broke apart, its fuel expended, as the form of the Earth loomed large.
To say it was imposing was an understatement. You'd have to be insane to fight this close to the atmosphere... or extraordinarily talented. There were growing specs on the horizon, and the NEXT's bladed head tilted in their direction, camera eye whirring and clicking as they came into focus.
Omer demanded nothing less - and all too often had been shown to conveniently confuse one for the other, so long as it got them results they wanted. Quickly, she sent out a status update - and the reply was instantaneous. As unlikely as it was for Omer to lend out one of their top NEXTs to GA America, apparently their need was dire enough they were willing to pay any price. Stolen files by a defecting test pilot were hardly unusual - but this time, GA had been abnormally insistent.
Enough to risk sending her into the meat grinder. Still... she would have taken the mission anyway.
This, after all, was personal.
"This is Seti. Target identified. One shuttle, three escorts."
"You have your orders. Stop them at all costs."
"Lethal force?"
"If necessary."
"...Understood."
With a roar, the Armored Core's Overboost system kicked in, catapulting her forward the last stretch on a white flare. The three blips from before now were taking distinct shapes, peeling off from their defensive positions.
(Jegans?)
As soon as her assessment was in, the lead machine opened fire with its shoulder-mounted missile pods, sending all six warheads her way. The Overboost cut as the X-SOBRERO frame danced wildly, the powerful rounds bursting about her, rattling the thinly armored craft to the core - but the field held, somehow. No direct hits, but-
(Too well armed to be Coyotes. Vultures?)
One Jegan was already closing in, raising its shield to release another set of stored missiles - but this time, she was ready. The Fragile's shoulder-mounted chainguns opened with a roar as she jinked her AC up and over, the force the surprisingly slender weapons were able to bring about evidently catching the Mobile Suit by surprise, as bullets raked its body. Sparking and popping, it fell past her NEXT before detonating, its chunks falling towards the atmosphere behind them.
"Too slow!"
The second Jegan burst through the smoke of its former comrade, beam saber glowing wildly in its grip. A swing grazed the edge of the Kojima particle field, turning it into a scintillating lightshow as the two clashed, plasma straining to force its way through - but it proved to be a futile effort, as with some difficulty, the Sobrero tore itself free, jinking about the Jegan as its handheld rifles flared. Once - twice - thrice! A barrage into the exposed rear of the Mobile Suit ended its resistance for good.
Her eyes turned to the shuttle. Not much longer and it would be too far along re-entry to halt.
That only left-
A grinding crash brought her back to reality, the Fragile spewing flames and vapors from its cooling ports as its Primal Armor shattered, crackling like glass under a sharp, sudden impact. The Stark Jegan now advanced freely, discarding the heavy weapon, snapping up a beam rifle from its waist armor. Spears of light punched through the void, blinding in their brightness as she danced like never before. The pull of the atmosphere was getting too intense to ignore, now. If she stayed where she was, without Primal Armor, the Fragile would be crushed like a child's toy by reentry.
"Do you think Mercenary trash can slow down an Omer Lynx?!"
Failure was not an option.
Couldn't go around him. Couldn't go over him. That left only one choice.
Through him.
Her foot slammed down on the accelerator, and the Fragile burst forward, catching the Stark Jegan by surprise. The Beam rifle fired- and scythed through her shoulder, sending one of the chainguns hurtling off into space. The NEXT collided with the Jegan, the force of its rush crumpling its frail upper body, but successfully sending the Mobile Suit tumbling. As it fought to bring itself back upright, the last thing the pilot saw was the Fragile's one remaining arm bringing its rifle to bear, eye glowing menacingly.
The barrel flared, dumping the magazine with such swiftness that it glowed red-hot, pounding round after round into the Jegan's chest, tearing the cockpit apart in a bloody spray of oil, viscera, and metal.
With no more time to lose, she tore after the Shuttle, putting it in her sights as the chaingun rolled back over her shoulder. Only seconds left. Her fingers tensed on the trigger. This was it.
Time to finish things.
September 14th
Omer Science Hub #122
Lynx Calibration Lab, exterior
Sunset
"I've been through the desert
On a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la, la, la, la, la..."
A clear voice filled the air atop Omer's clandestine NEXT calibration facility. A woman with long, sandy blonde hair sat, cross legged against the wall, her fingers strumming a bass guitar as she sang. Her uniform was crumpled and worn over her shoulders, exposing a white tank top over a lithe, muscular body covered with scars - but the way she touched the strings was with utmost precision and delicacy, hardly the brutish fumbling of a thug.On a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la, la, la, la, la..."
"After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead..."
At length she paused. A timid footfall had reached her ear. Sola waited expectantly, letting the guitar fall onto her lap. After some time passed, a voice spoke - and she had to wonder just how long Omer's Ace had been listening in.
"I don't understand that song."
A cold, sharp tone, bereft of emotion. Seti Veasna, one of Omer's pride and joys, narrowed her eyes at Sola, as though she were attempting to play some kind of trick on her.
"Oh? Hello Seti." She said, not bothering to look away from her instrument, giving a kind smile.
"Why doesn't the horse have a name?" The Lynx asked, insistently.
"Wouldn't the singer be foolish to trust an animal he knows so little, on such a dangerous journey, that he hasn't even thought to give it a name? Even our ACs have names."
Solana just nodded along, almost absent-mindedly. Her fingers moved over the guitar, slowly, carefully tuning it. A touch here, a turn there... and it would sing just as if it were brand new. She had come to enjoy Seti's strange perspectives on the world in her short time with the League, how she tried so hard to fit everything into her little box. Omer's mental conditioning was the real deal.
"Does it need to make sense?" She asked, gesturing for the young Lynx to sit alongside her. Stiffly, Seti folded herself up alongside the woman, her movements almost mechanical for one with no cybernetic components. Omer was proud of that - their last attempts at meddling with cybernetics had been... somewhat less than successful.
"It should." She said, determinedly. "All things should."
"Would that make life easier for you?"
"For everyone."
Sola wanted to stifle a laugh, but masked it as a sneeze. Still feeling Seti's intense look upon her, she made a show of thinking about it carefully, drumming her fingers on the guitar as they looked out upon the Colony's interior.
"Some things are meant for you to find your own meaning in them. Maybe it's not about telling you what to think, but to let you figure it out yourself?"
"That's..."
Seti lapsed into silence, her face running the gamut of pained expressions as she sought to grasp what she had not once been exposed to: the notion of deliberate uncertainty. Sola strummed again on the instrument, and smiled again at the sound it produced. Finally, Seti spoke again, exasperation filling her voice:
"...But what if I'm wrong?"
"So, what if you are?"
The sheer audacity of this remark seemed to stun the Lynx into silence. Sola finally laughed - though it did not, for once, Seti registered, seem to be the kind of laughter directed at her. The blonde stretched out her hand towards her, offering a handshake.
"Then, let's be wrong together, amiga. It'll be fun."
Seti looked down at the outstretched hand. It was the first time anyone in her entire life had treated her as such. This strange woman who had come barging into her carefully controlled, measured, black-and white life and thrown everything into disarray, who felt like chaos incarnate, now wanted to be... friends? Had she ever even had a friend? She knew what it was, what the definition was, but...
She grasped her hand, and Sola returned the grip, as the sun fell behind the two of them. She had a vague sense that something was starting, but the uncertainty of that too was of little comfort.
"You don't..." Seti mumbled, still unwilling to relinquish her palm. "...make any sense..."
After a little while, Solana politely reached forward, and extracted the seemingly frozen young woman's fingers from her own, causing her to start. They returned to a comfortable silence, but it wasn't long before Seti spoke again - this time, more delicately, haltingly, than before.
"Can I... hear some more? Maybe I'll understand it then. I mean, we can try understanding it. Together. Maybe."
The last flickers of light danced across the horizon, and a chill was picking up. Solana gave a shudder - but nodded, picking up the guitar.
"Sure."
Present Day
The whine of warning claxons in her ears brought Seti back to the fight. One directive had been implanted in her consciousness above all else, and it screamed at her over the reluctance that lingered in her heart:
Finish the mission!
[DANGER: AMS FEEDBACK DETECTED. RELEASING PSYCH-BREAKERS. ]
The chaingun flared, and she screamed in pain, as if an electric shock had slammed through the front of her head. Nevertheless, the shots hit home - and the back of the shuttle exploded in a burst of flame and metal, sending it in a tailspin down towards the planet below, hemorrhaging foul, acrid smoke. The X-SOBRERO's remaining thrusters fired in unison, straining against the pull of the atmosphere, until finally its Overboost activated, sending it rocketing back up into the welcoming grasp of the void. The Fragile drifted now, almost little more than a shattered collection of splinters held together by its sputtering, flickering PA field.
Sure enough, on the horizon was an advancing troop of SOLARWIND Normals, their blocky, familiar forms moving as fast as their primitive designs could. Better late than never. Her vision swam, and she opened her eyes, gaze still on the dwindling form of the shuttle... and aboard it, she thought, the only woman she had ever called a friend.
"Sola..." Seti whispered, as unconsciousness washed over her.
"Why...?"