Respite

The miniature hologram of Commander Kenneth Buttermilch flickered on the hangar’s blue titanium floor. Lawrence was the nearest to it, he sat cross-legged; one leg to prop up his chin.

"Get well-rested, everyone," the tiny Kenneth said. "I want everyone in top condition. There’s a 4-hour delay before we engage the Imperium reinforcement fleet."

The hologram was terminated. Silence hung low over the huddled teams of Shinra and Hoshiga pilots. Most resigned themselves to the situation and dragged themselves off. But Lawrence remained as he was, one hand shielding his baggy eyes. He picked himself up, slapping Boris and Charlotte on the backs. They were huddled at his feet, like little schoolchildren listening intently to the program.

"Well, you heard the boss," Lawrence said. A deep sigh escaped his lips. "Take a breather in a sleep pod. You two go on ahead.”

Boris got up first and left without a word. On his way past Lawrence he exchanged glances with the man but said nothing. But Charlotte remained there, almost in fetal position. Lawrence squatted next to her, hands tucked away hugging his pits. It was mostly just the two of them now, if only for a brief respite.

“I never got to tell him,” Charlotte said. Lawrence leaned in, given she uttered it so quietly. “I loved him like a brother—and I never got to tell him.” There were no shortage of tears dripping from her face. Suddenly, she jolted up and sprang for the closet hallway.

“Charlotte—I....” Lawrence said.

Charlotte wiped her eyes and flicked her arm. She didn’t look back. “Captain Mengde, I’ll report back to you in three hours.”

“You could use the extra hour, Lieutenant,” Lawrence said. At a loss and still grappling with the loss of Luke.

“I won’t forgive you if you don’t check in on Victoria,” she said. She disappeared amongst a crowd.

“What’s she getting at?” Lawrence said. He sighed, making way for the medical bay. When he got there, it was rather empty, save for a single attendant. A rather petite but stocky lady. Lawrence towered over her as she adjusted her big librarian glasses.

“Hm... come back when you’re a little less grimy, hun,” the nurse said.

“I’m not that dirty,” Lawrence said.

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed.

Lawrence peeked in the doorway. “Schwarzenberger—she’s in here, right?”

The nurse stood defiantly at the door. “You can do with a wash-off, first—hey!”

Lawrence politely pushed her aside, like some kind of stone you can simply just move away. Resigned, the nurse shrugged and went off past a wall divider.

Lawrence searched around each divider, eagerly hoping he’d come across her... and then he stopped. Stunned, third time was the charm after all. Quickly, Lawrence went to her side, a prince rushing to his sleeping beauty. She lay there, passed out from extreme duress. A moment of sympathy swept over him. Commander’s Guilt or something else, seeing her in this sad state strained him. He collapsed in the adjacent seat. Pure exhaustion coiled his limbs, it embraced his neck, karate chopping him but his resilience all the same. He struggled to stay awake, trying in vain to fix his posture on the chair, quietly so not to interrupt his sleeping beauty, miss Victoria. The chair creaked in protest, and Lawrence gave up.

And ever since coming to terms with Luke’s death, Lawrence felt in the middle of a calm oasis. He relaxed despite the heavy Hoshiga flight gear, drifting slowly... slowly off to sleep, knowing that at least Victoria was still alive and well by his side.

The bed jolted.

“What the bloody hell?” Victoria’s voice kept his conscious reeled in. The bed creaked. “Just what was that sensation?” It was quieter, Lawrence wasn’t even sure he heard it correctly.

There was a presence looming over him. It was only after several seconds of silent anticipation did Lawrence open his eyes. Victoria hovered over Lawrence; goddess as she was in his eyes. He swore her lips were puckered, but it must’ve been his imagination; she smirked. She landed on his lap like some kind of spoiled princess.

“Vick,” Lawrence said, he couldn’t reach to suppress a yawn in time. Caught in a net of embarrassment as Victoria smiled with radiating warmth pure enough to simply wash away his pains like a tsunami. “What were you saying, some kind of weird sensation?”

Victoria was suddenly very concentrated. She stared intently into space as she spoke: “Someone... was calling out to me,” she locked eyes with Lawrence. “I’m sure of it.”

Lawrence only shook his head. “Your Neo sapiens antics again. That’s what my wing-mates call it. Boris still thinks it’s superstitious nonsense.”

Victoria didn’t answer. Their gaze remained locked for what seemed like forever. There seemed no end for his appetite of staring into her deep, oceanic eyes. Lawrence slowly got closer to her and it was only by that prompt did Victoria look away red in the face with embarrassment. She took a deep sigh before she spoke: “It... was something akin to what I experienced back on Zeta, when I thought it was you who died...”

Lawrence knew all too well what she meant. She must’ve experienced the moment Luke died. But he felt no need to tell her this. He didn’t want to saddle her with any more guilt as a Neo sapiens.

“But this was different,” Victoria continued. “I-it... I‘ve never encountered someone... projecting... their thoughts with me before.”

“Projection?” Lawrence asked as he repositioned himself under the floating Victoria. “You don’t suppose...”

“It was a Neo sapiens?” Victoria finished for him. Lawrence stared deep into her aquatic eyes. She looked away out of embarrassment. “They ... sought me out, wanted me to... urged me to stop them.” Victoria rubbed her temples, and Lawrence felt prompted to reach out for her, but he refrained.

All rationality of the situation avoided agency in his mental arena. “An imperial Neo sapiens?” Lawrence stroked his jaw, his brow arched. “But the Imperium has suppressed its Neo sapiens... forever, even in the days of the Old Federation they were seen as distrusting,” Lawrence rattled his mental palace to probe the logic of the situation harder. “They wouldn’t just put a gun in one’s hand and tell them to go fight the enemy. I mean it when they say they’re a hardcore xenophobic bunch.”

“I know what I heard,” Victoria said. “An imperial counterpart—of me? As a Neo sapiens?” Lawrence savored his fill of looking into her joyful eyes as the question dangled between them. She had to look away out of shyness. “You’re right, love, there’s, just, no way—“

“...It could be the Black Prince himself,” Lawrence said. He quickly shrugged.

Victoria balled her fists. “Just what was that peculiar feeling I wonder?” Victoria said. For a moment, Victoria was shocked, nearly catatonic. Lawrence was left perplexed. “Where’s Frank? Friederika?” The tension grew in her voice. She was letting herself drift away as Lawrence dropped his gaze. The moment had finally come and he wasn’t already to tell her the Star Fleet’s circumstances.

But he felt it. He felt that uncanny stroke of his cranium. It crawled, like an unwelcoming little insect. A mental phtyon stalking up his mind. It was a numbing sensation, extremely subtle but he felt it. He knew this uncanny experience all too well. He felt Victoria. He snatched her arm in the act like a prey getting the perfect drop on its natural, apex predator. Lawrence would never bring himself to ever harm Victoria—never a prince to lay a finger on his princess. But at this very moment of in extremis overloading his mental state, Lawrence was stemming with anger. He tried to calm himself, not realizing the gloved grip he had on Victoria. He didn’t want to feel like a monster and let go without hesitation. Victoria pulled away. “Y-you promised me you wouldn’t do... that. It’s unnerving—I’m sorry,” Lawrence said. He instinctively rubbed his forehead and temples.

“Why is Commander Buttermilch diverting attention from Zeta?” Victoria asked, the demand in her voice heightened. She tore off the various medical patches on her body. Lawrence was reluctant in reaching out to restrain her again—he anticipated her being determined in blasting off to Zeta, but his spur of the moment indecisiveness allowed Victoria time to spring herself up.

“You’re not going out like this,” Lawrence said, “Zeta is the Fourth’s problem now—hey!” Victoria somersaulted away; she kicked him away in the process. Lawrence crashed into some medical machinery and came to his senses as she dashed for the door.

“I’m not leaving Frank behind,” Victoria said. “Or Kiki!”

“Hey, Lieutenant, you’re not—“ the small nurse from before appeared from behind her blue divider. Victoria grappled her still. She chucked the nurse overhead like a javelin at Lawrence.

“Vic!” Lawrence shouted. He caught the helpless nurse with open arms, then threw her aside. “Sorry about this, ma’am—really, I am,” Lawrence said. He regained momentum and tried to catch up to Victoria through the handrail system. He considered stopping to contact Kenneth. And indeed he did at the next communications panel. He fiddled and dialed with it briefly but failed to remember Kenneth’s direct codec number. He entered the hangar from the second story, and saw Victoria as she crept up on maintenance crew working on her well-battered Yellow Typhoon.

Lawrence leaned over the catwalk railing. He cupped his hands and shouted: “Hey you guys down there, don’t let Lieutenant Schwarzenberger in the Yellow Typhoon!”

They were alerted alright, just not the way Lawrence hoped they would. Like a clever roguish cat, Victoria barrel-rolled past them into the cockpit.

“Damn it!” Lawrence ducked and leaped off the catwalk. He jumped down and navigated his way to the Yellow Typhoon, where he landed on its torso. He squatted, his concern alone staring down the Yellow Typhoon’s purple mono-eye.

“You need to rest, Vic—I need to rest too. Everyone’s at their limits. You of all people need to rest, Vick... rest with me,” Lawrence said. “There’s a enemy reinforcement fleet we need to intercept now—save your strength, I beg you ... dammit, Vic!” Lawrence turned around and made his way for the chest hatch. The Yellow Typhoon was activating and getting up from its slumber.

Victoria’s voice was broadcasted through the Shinra’s amplifier. “It’s our duty to stop Zeta’s advance on Farragaig,” Victoria said. “And it’s my responsibility as Frank’s superior officer to ensure his survival. I’m not heartless like Commander Buttermilch, or you.” Lawrence swiftly found himself grabbed by the Yellow Typhoon and flung away. His vision spun rapidly. “Zeta isn’t stopping at Farragaig,” Victoria continued. Lawrence managed to keep himself stabilized in time to avoid Victoria’s Shinra. She was busy equipping a laz gun, as well as a photon sword hilt: This, she slid on her Shinra’s armor skirt. “The Black Prince is insane enough to drop Zeta on Fasnakyle as well. The Fourth Star Fleet won’t be able to do a bloody damn thing to stop Zeta... only I can can stop him, and I happen to have a score to settle with the old bugger.”

Victoria had the MT equipped with the long oval shield. Then, just as Victoria got on the catapult launcher, another Mobile Trooper swooped in through the launch gate and made a crash landing on the catapult. Victoria shielded Lawrence and the rest of the ground personnel. The Yellow Typhoon held back the Mobile Trooper.

“They’re coming in... hundreds of them,” Friederika shouted through the Shinra’s speakers, “the Walpurgis is at the lead—he’s tearing through the rearguard with kamikaze units in tow!”

“Just what is the Black Prince’s true motives?” Victoria screamed. She spun the Yellow Typhoon and accelerated down the catapult runaway. Friederika and Lawrence pleaded for her to stop, but Victoria ignored them.

“All hands to level one battle-stations ... all hands to battle-stations...” The announcement rattled in Lawrence’s ears as the Yellow Typhoon launched off the Yilan. It drowned out the stern announcer with the roars of its massive engines. Lawrence shielded his face. When his vision adjusted, Victoria was already gone.

This time, Lawrence wasn't going to hesitate. He searched frantically for any nearby vehicle he could commandeer. The immediate one was a Shinra. Similar to the Yellow Typhon, it was until now getting serviced by engineers.

Lawrence seized the moment of shock. He lunged for it, zipping past the engineers caught off-guard by the situation. When he tried to enter its cockpit, however, he found it locked. Lawrence’s glimmer of hope was dashed. He looked around, but none of the other Shinras had open cockpits either. Going after Victoria in a Hoshiga will be difficult, but he’ll just have to manage.

He searched briskly for his Hoshiga; thankfully it seemed to have finished up rounds of repairs and rearmament. “Good work; get me prepped for fast-launch.”

“Lawry!” It was Friederika. She had gotten out of her Shinra and made way for Lawrence’s Hoshiga. “It’s too dangerous out there, love, you won’t make it far...” Friederika flicked her sweaty hair, she was still panting. “I was fighting for my life, just against these maniac Sarissa pilots alone—are you even listening to me?!”

“I have to try,” Lawrence said.

“Lawry...” Friederika said. She over overwhelmed with exhaustion.

“Get out of the way, Kiki,” Lawrence said. He flipped several switches throughout the various control circuits and dials. “You did what you could—leave the rest to me.”

“Don’t be crazy!” Friederika said. She couldn’t remain on for long as the Hoshiga connected with a launcher. “You won’t achieve much hauling Vicky back in that thing!”

“I can damn well try!” Lawrence said, it was about time to launch. The green-lit flicked on his dashboard. “And even if I don’t—I can at least make her job easier.”

“Lawry, stop,” Friederika said, nearly pleading now. “They’ve scrambled everything they’ve got—it’s the Lord’s whole fleet out there!”

He was cleared for launch. Lawrence waved Friederika away as the canopy sealed. He said to her: “All the more reason to get that hothead—both of them, Frank and Vick—back before either one of them do something reckless. Hey, if you can, don’t let the rest of Suntory Toki Squad launch. My direct order to them is to remain on standby and obey ol’ Kenneth. Knowing him he wouldn’t want them to launch with me either. I’ve already lost one Suntory Toki member, I don’t need to lose the others.” Upon finishing, he ignored Kenneth’s impending call.

“Lawry...!” Friederika pouted. She was forced back for good as the Hoshiga rumbled to life. There was a brief exchange of laz gun counter fire from a Shrina acting as sentry on the outer runway. They were here already. Lawrence had no time. The sentry Shrina dashed off the catapult.

“Captain Mengde, launching!”

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