Chapter 21: Front 13 – Legacy – Part 1/2

The face of a young boy swelled in her vision, their bulbous-eyes seemingly glowing a bright green shade. The bloodless face still held an expression of shock, as though eternally surprised, surprised to be dead.

"No, no I don-- Don't make me..." Came the voice.
 It wasn't that lonely head's voice, that severed face that floated endlessly through the sky, never quiet landing next to its stricken body.

No the voice came from that haziest of places we all know, a place inside, a part of us that burns and cries and dies with age though we may never know it - A voice with no true tone or pitch, yet more familiar to us all than any other.

 "Please don't"

The face seemed to come closer, the girl rose her hands, desperate to scramble back, to move away from it.

 Her vision suddenly jeered away from the head, a wave of relief overcoming her - Until she saw it.

The head wasn't lonely anymore, a body now lay beneath it. An older body than befitted that young pale face, slouched against the blackness that was so hard to fix your eyes on. The blackness that seemed to urge you back, to look at the body, a body missing one leg.
 The centre of the body made the head look almost whole. It dripped with dark, sticky fluid over the top of it's sickly hand, desperately clutching to it. The girl tried to move further away, to tear her eyes away from what she knew was next. The head moved, or maybe spasmed with an awful creaking of bones and depleted, withered skin.

'No smell, there's no smell, why can't I smell that, th-that thing in the air...'

 It looked her straight in the eyes, it controlled her gaze, refused to let her break from it. A hand rose slowly, tediously up from it's body, from beside the overlapping layers of black pus pooling out of it's midriff.

The hand was an older man's, more covered in singed flesh and bone, then that of its blackened remaining skin. It pointed slowly, from her eyes down to its stomach, if it could still be called one.

She didn't want to follow that gaze, she wanted nothing more then to do anything but follow that gaze - But follow it the little one did.
 Above the body, the miss-matched head's jaw twitched into something between a smile and a scowl, until finally the mouth simply fell away. Dropping from what had maybe once been the face of a young man.
 'I know him...Of course, how could it not be him....'

The girl wanted to scream but her voice was gone now, a new voice emitting, vomiting from the now jawless face. The black bloodied hole left by the jaw screamed the words at her.

 "What's my name?! Why, why won't you tell me my name. What's your name?" - It was a pleading voice in a way, once you got past the terrible screeching that seemed to come with it, the accent was non-existence, instead replaced by a Tv-static sound, winding it's way into her ears, into her being - But beneath it all was clearly a plea for answers.

"Are you thee Houkai? Then What was I? Who am I?"

 The hand holding its stomach fell away with a start, the head tilted forward before rolling straight off its perch atop those decrepit shoulders and down to the ground - Towards the helpless frozen girl.

 A dark wave of black gore pouring from what now revealed to be the slashed and sliced open remains of the body's stomach, lapping and flowing around the once more severed head, pushing it closer and closer and close and----.

The eye's seemed to follow the girl as it neared ever further, pushed on by an arc of mucus blood, its jawless stare ever fixed on her, always asking those same questions, "Are you the Hokuai?"

Hoki opened her eyes.

She slowly, carefully, pushed herself up from her bed, talking in her whole room;
 "I'm one minute late." She scowled glaring at the time.

****

 

It didn't matter whether it had been at private schools, the insistence of personal tutors, her father or any of his retainers - Hoki had always been implored to wake up daily at 6 in the morning. And indeed she had done so, to the point that it had been so many years now since she had needed the aid of an alarm clock that she'd forgot what they sounded like.

The device in question was her wrist-handheld. The placid LCD screen lying upon her bedside-table flashed insistently with the sound of some bird she didn't quite recognise, tweeting repeatedly.

 It occurred to her she had probably never heard this particular tone before, having only received the new handheld model recently. She had always been up and dismissed the thing before it had ever had the chance to ring.

Now the sound struck her as markedly irritating.

Getting up a whole minute late might not of seemed too problematic for most but Hoki found herself solidly placed in a bad mood. She made her way around the room, following her usual morning routine with a slight cloud to her actions. She couldn't help but feel groggy, sick even.
 "This is ridiculous, I slept just fine. A minute more than usual in-fact." She said to her reflection in the wardrobe-mirror, as though it had had suggested otherwise.
 With some reluctance Hoki made her way out of the room and began a course for the hanger.

It had been a few days since the 'big meeting'. In the intervening time things had by all rights gone smoothly.

 Despite her initial confrontation with Kolme, Scarlet had refrained from attempting to cause any more trouble - Even continuing to tutor Una on the daily.

This wasn't to suggest she had actually tried to smooth things over with Hoki herself, instead the two had returned to simply ignoring one another.
 'Then again it's not liked I've tried to put amends to the situation either....'

There had been more meetings, detailed discussions about the mission, weapon-tests and the like but all told time had flown by from Hoki's perspective.

 It was hard to imagine Una had already been aboard the ship for nearly two weeks now (yet equally hard to imagine her not being around), or that the date of the 'big-day' as Kolme and Nate phrased it - Was already upon them.

 The Tristan-Flotilla had moved a fair distance, now just as planned sitting outside the scanner range of the secretly aligned 'Commercial-Mobile-Repair-Vessel', CMRV - 001 - Clover.

 Just last night Lt.Tomo and 2nd Lt.Erfu had been dispatched in the forward party, to go and hide aboard the Clover in their own non-custom Neo-Vijaiks as a pre-caution for if the main plan failed - Sleeper bodyguards of a sort.

 Then again for all these changes nothing seemed immediately apparent about any of it to Hoki. The bland yellow-tinted hallways of the ship seemed no different than usual. The view from the Ship's portholes still showed little more than an empty blackness and the periodic scattered remains of some asteroid or decade-past battle.

However as she entered the hanger-bay, walking along one of the raised gang-ways overlooking the bustling area below, she did start to notice some signs of change.

You are reading story UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle at novel35.com

 The main hangar was a space that monstered any other aboard the ship, across from where she stood were the massive doors, stretching the length and height of the ship. Currently sealed shut, their metres wide segments made for impressive scenery.
 Even more noteworthy was the space directly below her, talking up a third of the hanger's total area was the on-board foundry. The massive piece of floor-plan was as ever lined with machine's and engineers; Welding, hammering and programming all sorts of ship and mecha based equipment.

The foundry was surprisingly alive for the time of day and Hoki was unable to determine if those down there had been working some sort of all-nighter or simply started early to do final checks considering the day that was in it.

 Of the most note to her was the two mechs which stood outside the foundry facing the shuttered doorways nearer the centre of the hanger. While a few blue clothed individuals still buzzed around these machines, it seemed apparent that the final checks were for the most part complete.

The first was a slightly discoloured Neo-Vijaik, with its regular armour and humanoid shape coloured in cyan greens and light blues, with a large muted backpack of sorts on its rear and a unique rectangular visor in place of the regular flat face; AF-NV-002

 The other was such a departure from a regular 'Neo' that it migth of been mistaken for being a completely different model. Over the torso region was large bulky black-armour plating, rounded shoulders of a similar making to either side matched this rotund core. To top it off a large triangular shaped head with a round band to its lower section that wrapped around the hole head unit - Finishing this bizarre design off was the dark red and emerald shades of its colour scheme - The AF-NV-003.

 It was thinking about the duo of disparate machine that brought Hoki's mind back to Scarlet.

'002' and '003' - The first person she had recruited on Commander Nate's behalf - A living legend or so she had thought.

 Hoki sighed with her arms lent against the railing in-front of her; 'Thee Scarlet Scourge huh?' Pirate, pioneer pilot, veteran of two world ending wars and absolute bi--'

"Lady Hoki, that you miss!?" The calling of a familiar voice broke Hoki from her line of thought and she found her face flushed at the juvenility of where she had left her mind drift towards.

 The voice of-course could only belong to one person, that bouncy, slightly 'exotic' voice of a younger woman than the one that owned it - Yet with the edge of someone who was hoarse from years of smoking (Or atleast shouting orders at hapless subordinates).

 Hoki did her best to recompose her expression & posture as she leaned fully over the railing to get a proper look at who she knew would be there - 'Chief Mechanic and Head of Fluchtig's Development Project' - Tsole Pele. Or as Hoki and most others simple knew her 'Chief Pel'.
 She was the sort of woman who left an impression whether you liked it or not, heavy set with muscle almost exclusively from years of graft - The woman had a tanned complexion with shaggy black hair and plain rounded glasses atop her nose, that had clearly seen some wear.
 A smile from eye to eye permeated her face and she wore a pair of navy-blue overalls with a peaked hat of much the same make as her compatriots.

Chief Pel had something of a storied history, it was one of the those tales Hoki had been told at tedium when she had been younger. The woman was supposedly quite famous among academic circles back in her homeland.
 Apparently the youngest person ever to be made a doctorate of both physics and Theoretical-Weapon-Technology back in some country on the continent of Western Bhaile.
 Despite this high standing and job offers of all kinds, Pel had insisted on joining the military like her younger brothers when The First War had broken out. Running away to Hoki's homeland in the East, she had joined up under an alias and become a regular mechanic in the army.

As fate would have it, during the invasion of Bhaile by the Abhailen-Revolutionary-Forces, Pel would end up in the company of Hoki's father - At the time known as 'Captain Bachika'.

 The famous hero of the Eastern-Theatre, the man who'd lead a tank battalion to success against the overwhelming power of the enemy Vijaiks and later would use the first Ground-Type Casnels to win back the lost territories of Eastern Bhaile.
 He was arguably only second in Bhaile-piloting-stature to the person who had been pilot of the legendary 'First Casnel' in the war's final months.
 Thee Houkai whom now sat under house arrest alongside most of those who had served with him in the war - All for their combined role in the formation of IAFS.

'Well former Hokuai, that is sort-of my title now, technically atleast...'

It had taken some time to convince Pel not to keep calling her by the word, she'd eventually settled for just 'Lady Hoki' which still seemed excessive to Hoki but better then not.

 Pel's unit in the First-War had been obliterated, only for its handful of survivors to be rescued by Captain Bachika's group.

 Her father and his friends had told the story many a time, of the difficult trip to get back to friendly lines, of how frequently Pel had worked through the night under enemy fire to keep the armoured divisions moving.

 Suffice to say that after this dramatic introduction Pel had become Bachika's head mechanic through to the war's end and while after she had finally returned home to a university position, Pel had never been absent for long - Frequently rooming at Hoki's home every few months and working on many of her father's developmental projects during the 'peace-years'.

 And so of course she had volunteered to join IAFS. As luck would have it she was one of the only ones not to get arrested. So for all Hoki wanted to avoid being around those who knew her 'history', there had clearly been no better option for the Fluchtig's Customisation project-lead when Nate had asked, then for it to be Chief Pel.

 That didn't mean however, that she appreciated the unwitting reminder of her 'title'.

"Hello there Chief, how are you this morning?" Hoki shouted back as politely as one can shout.

"I'm quite alright miss, that I am. Big day today of course. And I suppose you'll be here for the rites you will? Well don't mind me Lady Hoki, you work away and best of luck. No doubt you won't need it."
 The woman seemed to bounce and almost jump around as she spoke, her bellowing light-hearted voice carrying impressively, (if embarrassingly) through-out the entire room.
 Her slightly awkward use of the language still apparent even after the many years since the Great Homogenisation has phased out her homeland's native-dialect.

Before Hoki could reply, Pel was already turning on her heels and shouting a slew of instructions towards some unknowing engineer in the background, who out of surprize seemed to almost fall from his place atop some scaffold.
 Hoki sighed and began to step away from the edge of the platform, Pel disappearing from view with a curt bow (that Hoki recognised as being from back home), as quickly as she had arrived.

'Lady Hoki.'
It sounded so unnatural from the woman she had first met when a young teenager, from someone who had scolded her and even her father when the situation had called for it. From someone she saw as a gran-aunt rather than some 'royal retainer'.
 And than of course there been the mention of the ominous 'Rites'.
In reality they were a fairly mundane affair, traditionally speaking senior 'warriors' would go to inspect the blacksmiths and stables before the day of a battle. Hoki's father had apparently kept up this tradition by always personally overseeing any final adjustments done to machines with-in his command on the morning of any known upcoming battles.

Along with the bow and the use of the word 'lady' it was another of the oddities Chief Pel had picked up during her tenure in the East and seeing these things mentioned and displayed now did nothing to improve Hoki's mood.
 She had most certainly not come down to inspect anything, rather she had simply been wondering about the ship;
 'No maybe that's not quite right. Maybe I did want to be like him, just a little.'

There wasn't much remaining for her to see. In the confines of the foundry itself was a 'Field-Camp', the generic name of the air-tight containers that pilot's used when lying in wait for an enemy outside of their mother-ship.
 After all a Vijaik had only limited facilities, some food and basic amenities. Sure one could sleep in them but ultimately it was preferable to have a field-camp.
 The thing in question was an ugly bare bones contraption. A lifeless blue-grey rectangle with a clasp mechanism to the top that allowed it's safe and air-tight attachment to Vijaik cockpits, along with various pipes and tanks containing supplies.
 In essence it had the look of a tram-car, with the rails on its topside.

Currently it was being gradually moved from the foundry, to be out alongside the two Vijaiks, by the old GMT type that the Foundry kept. The older Vijaik had an odd degree of personality about it with all its experimental modifications making it both look like some over-sized robot and causing it to be entirely useless for combat.
 Seeing it clomp its way through the hanger, with the awkward shaped burden of the Field-Camp colliding repeatedly against the jutted out cockpit, made Hoki smile for a moment.
 However as she rounded a new doorway back into another drab corridor her face turned to a frown. Thinking about the quant GMT had only reminded her even more of the nostalgic memories of her father and his retainers.

She didn't know what childhood was like for other children, only what it had been like for her and she by no means felt resentful about it but she knew on some level it hadn't been 'normal'.
 As a girl she had been tutored to a level that'd make most royalty blush, fluent in 5 separate languages most of which weren't even used anywhere anymore, deeply studied in history & politics and from a more practical standpoint trained in the family arts;
 Foremost was archery, the combat form her family had been bestowed its title for centuries ago - But additionally in hand-to-hand combat and even sword play.

It had all seemed very inconsequential as a child. The Bachika clan had no actual noble blood so to speak and there had been no true wars for them to 'prove themselves in' for years.
 She had always known she would enlist as a soldier some day but no one had seen the so called 'First War' coming, certainly not the then 12 year old Hoki.
 But like all things the war had ended and so began those heady days of peace.

As she continued through the ship, with a course set towards the familiar canteen for a light breakfast, she found her mind wondering even further into the hazy memories of the past.
 She had been 15 when the war ended, old enough to think hanging out with a load of old soldiers was 'cool' and still naïve enough not to see the intense pain behind their eyes - To really understand why a whole room of laughing people could suddenly fall quiet when one mentioned the wrong, seemingly arbitrary day of the year.
 She had heard every story imaginable in her father's club-room. A space in the grand house's basement, with its own bar, tables, monitors and the like.
 A place that had always been packed to the rafters with second-hand smoke.

'Mother always used to say 'If you lot keep smoking so much it'll come out through the darn floorboards!'

That was something else Hoki knew she always did;
 Much like getting up with clockwork accuracy or striving to be treated as a 'normal woman' rather than her Father's daughter - She knew very well that whenever she was worried or concerned over something, her mind would near automatically try to change the topic to something lighter or more nostalgic.
 '......For Sun's sake what am I thinking about at a time like this? I need to focus, it--'

"--was just a dream!" Hoki finished aloud, slamming down a tray of food she had absentmindedly acquired, onto her familiar back corner table of the canteen.

A whelp of surprise from her left immediately caught Hoki's attention. Looking over she saw the pale-mousy face of Una O' Conchabhair , the so called Rookie - Her hands raised in alarm at Hoki's sudden verbal outburst.

You can find story with these keywords: UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle, Read UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle, UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle novel, UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle book, UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle story, UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle full, UnderCurrent – Can You Break The Cycle Latest Chapter