aaaliens 3
Feb. 10th, 2017 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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log“You bastards!” cried Polnareff, slamming bodily into the Hanged Man-class of the ARCANA. “This is for Sherry!”
“Stand 0 to Stand 3, fall back! Do not break formation!”
“Stand 4 to Stand 3, return to your position. The squad is vulnerable to ARCANA attack.” Polnareff, however, was deaf to the words of his squadmates as he pressed on, cleaving through the flesh of the ARCANA like melted butter. “I repeat, return to your position.”
“Hey, to 3 o’clock - there are survivors,” said Jotaro, the screen on his cockpit focusing on the faces of Speedwagon Foundation researchers huddled in the corner of the room.
“Stand 1 to Stand 3, respond. Respond, Polnareff!”
“Stand 0 to Stand 4, Anubis-class approaching at 9 o’clock. Stay alert.”
“Stand 4, roger that.”
“Stand 0 to Stand 2, assist Stand 4. Stand 1, I will guard you; use this distance to snipe the ARCANA near the survivors.” Aligning himself before Joseph’s armored unit, Avdol powered on an encrypted channel. “Polnareff! You are straying too far. Return to us.”
“Shut up, Avdol! These bastards . . . these monsters killed Sherry. They tore her squad apart! This,” Polnareff’s armored unit twisted in an impressive maneuver to parry an attack, “this is revenge!”
Amid the chaos, a high-pitched cry cut through the sounds of gunfire and tearing flesh. Joseph's curse echoed in the cockpits of his squadmates, save for that of Polnareff's.
Much later, tentative data were collected by able-bodied staff and pilots while they tended to the wounded. Body bags crowded the room in front of which they stood. With his prosthetic hand, Joseph waved a gray folder containing a single sheet of paper with the numbers.
“Over a hundred civilian casualties, and eight wounded and two killed from various squads . . . Jeez, this was supposed to be a simple rescue mission!”
“There’s no such thing as ‘simple’ in this day and age,” said Jotaro, glancing at the folder. “How many survivors among the civilians?”
“A dozen,” said Joseph, his expression grim.
In the parallel hallway, Polnareff was slumped against the wall with his palms pressed against his forehead. Before him, Avdol stood waiting in silence.
“It could have been fifteen,” groused Polnareff. “Fifteen. Three more.”
“What’s done is done, Polnareff. Twelve lives are twelve more than headquarters had predicted prior to our arrival,” said Avdol, not unkindly.
Silence hung in the air between Polnareff and Avdol, while the shouts and groans of survivors and the wounded rushed down the hall as an echo. The mangled body of a female researcher who’d been killed in the midst of Polnareff’s showdown with the ARCANA had been moved mere minutes ago; whether the blood on the floor nearby was hers or not was unclear. Polnareff lowered his hands and lifted his head till it rested against the wall.
“Sergeant . . . Did I ever tell you why I became a pilot?” he asked.
In a patient tone, Avdol answered, “No.”
“I enlisted first. My sister - Sherry - wanted to come, and we had a huge argument about it. I mean, who wouldn’t? Pilots last an average of ten minutes, if not less, out there. Anyway, I told her that it wasn’t safe, and she fought me on every word. Sherry doesn’t like to fight, so I thought I’d won until I found out that she’d enlisted shortly after me. But Sgt. Joestar was teaching me at the time and not having any of our drama, so Sherry and I made up,” Polnareff closed his eyes, “because, you see, we both wanted the same thing.”
“What was that?” asked Avdol, prompting Polnareff to continue.
“My dream was to take Sherry on a walk around France. For that, I needed to reclaim our native soil that the alien bastards gobbled up like a turkey. Turned out she had the same wish.
“Now look at the mess I’ve gotten everyone into. If I hadn’t been distracted by the Hanged Man, I could have saved all three of those researchers. I even abandoned Kakyoin when I was supposed to be covering him.”
He opened his eyes when he heard the rustle of movement. Avdol had crouched before him to even out their eye level, and now looked at him with a firm but non-judgmental gaze. The shouts in the distance faded further into the background.
“You were blinded by grief. That does not make you any less of a person. In fact, it only shows how human you are.“
Tears welled in Polnareff’s eyes, and he snapped his head forward with a curse. His voice wavered with his next words.
“Damn it! I . . . I swear on my sister’s honor, Sergeant; next time, I won’t be so weak. I won’t lose my cool. I’ll protect everyone next time; and I'll get France back, even if it kills me to do it!”
Avdol nodded, then said, “A wise person remains calm in the midst of danger. However,” standing, he extended a hand to Polnareff, “you must also remember that you have been a part of our squad since its creation. Cry, Polnareff. When it’s time for you to fight again, we will stand beside you.”
Quivering lips notwithstanding, the corners of Polnareff’s lips curved into a watery smile before he accepted Avdol’s hand. With great strength, Avdol pulled Polnareff to his feet and placed a hand on his back. They crossed the hall side by side toward the heart of the relief effort.
“Where’s Kakyoin?” Jotaro looked at Joseph, whose eyes wandered in thought. “I haven’t seen him since we left our units.”
“If I’m remembering right, I last saw him with Iggy. They’ve been busy helping out on the relief front,” said Joseph.
“Iggy . . . That’s right. He’s here, too.”
“Huh? Are you serious, Jotaro? Iggy was fighting with us the whole time!”
“Stand 0 to Stand 3, fall back! Do not break formation!”
“Stand 4 to Stand 3, return to your position. The squad is vulnerable to ARCANA attack.” Polnareff, however, was deaf to the words of his squadmates as he pressed on, cleaving through the flesh of the ARCANA like melted butter. “I repeat, return to your position.”
“Hey, to 3 o’clock - there are survivors,” said Jotaro, the screen on his cockpit focusing on the faces of Speedwagon Foundation researchers huddled in the corner of the room.
“Stand 1 to Stand 3, respond. Respond, Polnareff!”
“Stand 0 to Stand 4, Anubis-class approaching at 9 o’clock. Stay alert.”
“Stand 4, roger that.”
“Stand 0 to Stand 2, assist Stand 4. Stand 1, I will guard you; use this distance to snipe the ARCANA near the survivors.” Aligning himself before Joseph’s armored unit, Avdol powered on an encrypted channel. “Polnareff! You are straying too far. Return to us.”
“Shut up, Avdol! These bastards . . . these monsters killed Sherry. They tore her squad apart! This,” Polnareff’s armored unit twisted in an impressive maneuver to parry an attack, “this is revenge!”
Amid the chaos, a high-pitched cry cut through the sounds of gunfire and tearing flesh. Joseph's curse echoed in the cockpits of his squadmates, save for that of Polnareff's.
Much later, tentative data were collected by able-bodied staff and pilots while they tended to the wounded. Body bags crowded the room in front of which they stood. With his prosthetic hand, Joseph waved a gray folder containing a single sheet of paper with the numbers.
“Over a hundred civilian casualties, and eight wounded and two killed from various squads . . . Jeez, this was supposed to be a simple rescue mission!”
“There’s no such thing as ‘simple’ in this day and age,” said Jotaro, glancing at the folder. “How many survivors among the civilians?”
“A dozen,” said Joseph, his expression grim.
In the parallel hallway, Polnareff was slumped against the wall with his palms pressed against his forehead. Before him, Avdol stood waiting in silence.
“It could have been fifteen,” groused Polnareff. “Fifteen. Three more.”
“What’s done is done, Polnareff. Twelve lives are twelve more than headquarters had predicted prior to our arrival,” said Avdol, not unkindly.
Silence hung in the air between Polnareff and Avdol, while the shouts and groans of survivors and the wounded rushed down the hall as an echo. The mangled body of a female researcher who’d been killed in the midst of Polnareff’s showdown with the ARCANA had been moved mere minutes ago; whether the blood on the floor nearby was hers or not was unclear. Polnareff lowered his hands and lifted his head till it rested against the wall.
“Sergeant . . . Did I ever tell you why I became a pilot?” he asked.
In a patient tone, Avdol answered, “No.”
“I enlisted first. My sister - Sherry - wanted to come, and we had a huge argument about it. I mean, who wouldn’t? Pilots last an average of ten minutes, if not less, out there. Anyway, I told her that it wasn’t safe, and she fought me on every word. Sherry doesn’t like to fight, so I thought I’d won until I found out that she’d enlisted shortly after me. But Sgt. Joestar was teaching me at the time and not having any of our drama, so Sherry and I made up,” Polnareff closed his eyes, “because, you see, we both wanted the same thing.”
“What was that?” asked Avdol, prompting Polnareff to continue.
“My dream was to take Sherry on a walk around France. For that, I needed to reclaim our native soil that the alien bastards gobbled up like a turkey. Turned out she had the same wish.
“Now look at the mess I’ve gotten everyone into. If I hadn’t been distracted by the Hanged Man, I could have saved all three of those researchers. I even abandoned Kakyoin when I was supposed to be covering him.”
He opened his eyes when he heard the rustle of movement. Avdol had crouched before him to even out their eye level, and now looked at him with a firm but non-judgmental gaze. The shouts in the distance faded further into the background.
“You were blinded by grief. That does not make you any less of a person. In fact, it only shows how human you are.“
Tears welled in Polnareff’s eyes, and he snapped his head forward with a curse. His voice wavered with his next words.
“Damn it! I . . . I swear on my sister’s honor, Sergeant; next time, I won’t be so weak. I won’t lose my cool. I’ll protect everyone next time; and I'll get France back, even if it kills me to do it!”
Avdol nodded, then said, “A wise person remains calm in the midst of danger. However,” standing, he extended a hand to Polnareff, “you must also remember that you have been a part of our squad since its creation. Cry, Polnareff. When it’s time for you to fight again, we will stand beside you.”
Quivering lips notwithstanding, the corners of Polnareff’s lips curved into a watery smile before he accepted Avdol’s hand. With great strength, Avdol pulled Polnareff to his feet and placed a hand on his back. They crossed the hall side by side toward the heart of the relief effort.
“Where’s Kakyoin?” Jotaro looked at Joseph, whose eyes wandered in thought. “I haven’t seen him since we left our units.”
“If I’m remembering right, I last saw him with Iggy. They’ve been busy helping out on the relief front,” said Joseph.
“Iggy . . . That’s right. He’s here, too.”
“Huh? Are you serious, Jotaro? Iggy was fighting with us the whole time!”