Victoria's Brief

< If you’re out there ... feel my presence. Come and stop me! >

Victoria jolted upright. She was no longer in the confines of her Yellow Typhoon, but inside a medical bay on a Star Monitor. Familiar senses telegraphed through her spatial awareness, and Victoria had no doubt she was back on the Yilan.

“What the hell?” Victoria said, she caressed her temples. “Just what was that sensation?”

Lawrence was by the bedside. He was passed out on the chair, decked out in full Hoshiga gear. The astro combat helmet had drifted off somewhere nearby. Victoria crept up on him, she intended to surprise Lawrence with a kiss on the forehead.

The pilot stirred awake. “Vick,” Lawrence said sleeplessly. He couldn’t suppress a yawn. Victoria landed on his lap. “What was it you were mumbling about, some kind of sensation?”

“Someone was calling out to me, I’m sure of it.”

“Your Neo sapiens antics again.”

For a moment, Victoria didn’t say anything. She locked eyes with Lawrence briefly before she looked away in embarrassment. “It was something akin to what I experienced back on Zeta, when I thought it was you who died. But, this is different, I’ve never encountered someone projecting their thoughts directly with me before.”

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

She racked her brain, trying to make sense of the ordeal. “They ... sought me out, wanted me to stop them.” She rubbed her face, her head was still slightly agitated, but it wasn’t ringing as much before.

“An imperial Neo sapiens?” Lawrence said. He stroked his jaw, and his brow arched. “But the Imperium has suppressed its Neo sapiens nearly forever. They wouldn’t just put a gun in one’s hand and tell them to go fight the enemy. They’re xenophobic to the core.”

“I know what I heard,” Victoria said, “a imperial counterpart to me? You’re right, there’s just no way—”

“You don’t suppose it could be the Black Prince himself?”

Victoria balled her hands. “Then what was that peculiar feeling, I wonder?” Then the realization struck her: “Where’s Frank? Friederika?”

Lawrence dropped his gaze. He cupped his hands together. Frank and Friederika are still out there.

“Frank was left behind?” Victoria said, barely a whisper. Anger swelled with each moment.

Lawrence looked her in the eyes. To some extent, the flow of thoughts is akin to telegrams Victoria can peer into, but she only pried when needed, such as knowing the truth behind words and possible malice. Victoria has honed this powerful skill as a Neo sapiens through fire and sword, by reading the broadcasted intentions of enemy combatants. Victoria has survived this long enough to be considered a “ace of aces” because of her exceptional combat, seemingly precognitive abilities.

“You promised me you wouldn’t probe me,” Lawrence said, stemming the anger in his voice. His lower lip trembled. “It’s numbing!”

“Why is Commander Buttermilch diverting attention from Zeta?” Victoria asked, the demand in her voice heightened. She tore off the various wired medical patches on her body. Lawrence grabbed her; he anticipated her being determined to sortie out, but he acted too late.

“You’re not going out in a state like this!” Lawrence said. “Zeta is the Fourth fleet’s problem now—hey!” Victoria somersaulted away and kicked him away in the process. Victoria dashed for the door.

“I’m not leaving Frank behind,” Victoria said. Lawrence had crashed into the wall and regained his stability. He darted after Victoria. “Or Kiki!”

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

“Vic!” Lawrence shouted. He caught the helpless nurse with open arms, then threw her aside.

Victoria jumped into the hallway and reached for a handrail. It sped her down the hallway, and she did this several times before reaching the hangar. “Nobody has paid me attention yet, good,” Victoria said, albeit more under her breath. Lawrence hadn’t caught up yet. “Did he alert Theodore?”

Victoria spotted the Yellow Typhoon on a raised vertical servicing platform under the mercy of engineers. She got as close as she could and waited for a window to enter the exposed cockpit.

“Hey, you guys down there, don’t let Victoria in that Mobile Trooper!” Lawrence shouted from a nearby catwalk.

The engineers were distracted by Lawrence. This gave leeway for Victoria, and she seized the chance: she sprang for the cockpit and barrel-rolled in. She landed in the suspended linear cockpit seat. Victoria examined the systems and did some last-second diagnostic checks. “Everything’s operational,” Victoria said, as she flipped on several switches on her cockpit console, then pressed a big red button twice. She closed the hatch, and the three-sixty-degree panoramic panel monitors flickered on; they depicted in near-perfect quality the surroundings outside the Mobile Trooper.

Lawrence jumped down and landed on the Yellow Typhoon’s torso. He squatted, glared with concern at the Yellow Tyhpoon’s headpiece. “You need to rest while you still can, Vick,” Lawrence said. “There’s a reinforcing Imperium fleet we need to intercept now, save your strength, I beg you ... dammit Vick!” He made his way down to the chest where the hatch was.

“We can still stop Zeta. And I have to save Frank, it’s my responsibility as his superior officer, I’m not heartless like Commander Buttermilch, or you,” the Yellow Typhoon grabbed Lawrence and flung him away. “Zeta won’t stop at Farragaig,” Victoria said. Her Shinra grabbed a laz gun, as well as a photon sword hilt: she slid this on her Shinra’s armor skirt. “The Black Prince is insane enough to drop Zeta on Fasnakyle as well. And for that reason alone, I have a score to settle with the bastard!”

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 the ground personnel and held back the Mobile Trooper. Victoria gasped when she realized on the video call it’s Friederika.

“They’re coming in... hundreds of them,” Friederika shouted, “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 pleaded for her to stop, but Victoria ignored her.

Behind her, the Yilan alarms blared, “all hands to level one battle-stations ... all hands to battle-stations...”