Gundam SEED Fan Fiction ❯ Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Odyssey V ❯ A Formal Business ( Chapter 2 )

"The idea of piracy has always interested me. A vile, ill-mannered group working in conditions so harsh, that they have to make a living stealing and evading the law. As a Chairman of the PLANT Council, I am charged to disregard such men as mere rogues, but you have to admit: how nice would it be to go to work knowing if someone `official' got in your way, you could kill him or her without second thoughts."
-Gilbert Dullindal

Phase 02: A Formal Business

Night fall had long since set in as the Rommel and the two captured cargo ships Rigel and Vega cruised had left the impromptu battlefield, now arriving at their make shit base of Catalina. Most of the Rommel's crew was now looking forward to disembarking at their home base, since it had been a long, but profitable day. “Damn it to hell, with this ever go away!!” Friedrich roared, trying to relax a little in his command chair. He already felt the urge to slip out of his German Waffen SS-type gray overcoat, which he wore as his working clothes, but for now he settled to just taking off his Captain's hat and applying a fresh new icepack to his bald scalp. His hangover was just about gone.

”Captain, ah, I got you a prairie oyster…” said somebody next to him. Cunningham looked up to see one of the cook's assistants, a young redhead probably in her late teens, holding a glass of mixed gin, egg yolk, hot sauce and pepper. Friedrich at first was concentrated on the woman's cleavage, as his cheeks started to turn red under his black beard, but a sudden burst of pain shot through his brain, reminding him of his hangover. “Thanks Francine.” He said, trying to keep an even tone, as he took the glass and drinks it down, resisting the urge to vomit it.

”With all due respect Captain, that's a very disgusting drink.” Said the XO, a young woman with green hair and dark green eyes, cringing along with other members of the crew as Friedrich gulped down the last of his beverage. She was dressed in a standard EAF uniform, with black trim instead of the usual gray and rank tabs that marked her as a Lieutenant Commander, though she wasn't part of the EAF at the moment. Other than that, she kept her hair tied into a ponytail that ran down to her mid-back, and despite her beauty, one could feel a sort of seriousness emanating from this woman.

”I'm not drinking it for refreshment Lyn!” Friedrich countered loudly, feeling another surge of pain, “Damn, I hate these twenty four hour hangovers…” he growled.

”Maybe you should consider rehab, Freddy.” A new voice chimed from the back. In the corner of the bridge, was a man somewhere in his early twenties, dressed in a black leather jacket, black pants and boots, with the jacket buttoned up and a red scarf tucked in. He had neck length blonde hair with short bangs coming over his forehead, a single bright magenta eyes and a structured face that still had a lot of youth to it. In anime fashion, Vale had his pant legs tucked into his military boots and a belt slipped over the jacket to keep the lower portion around Vale's torso, like what the EAF did with their uniforms. He also wore a pair of black colored fingerless gloves and a ring around his right index finger that depicted a black shield shape, outlined in gold, with a cracked skull and crossbones displayed. As well, he possessed a single SV Infinity at his right side, holster hung down in a Han Solo manner. To top all of this, he had an Mp3 player over his ears, which was currently playing a rock and roll track, a soothing one at that, judging by his relaxed expression.

”Shut up Vale, your voice isn't very soothing. And I don't feel very good…” Friedrich barked as Gray Wolf's mobile suit commander strolled over to his command chair. At the same time, Vale looked over some of the bridge crew and saw them aggravated. Exposure to one of Friedrich Cunningham's hangover temperaments did that to regular humans.

”Ahhh, Freddy, Freddy, Freddy…” Vale said, with the grin of a Cheshire Cat. “Come now, you can't feel that bad. We just captured two out of three freighters from le reine, lost no one in the process, and if Cortez holds up his end of the bargain, we'll be rich by morning. And I also heard `Lucky Eddie' got some tequila from his South America trip…” Vale's smirk lengthened as Friedrich gagged at the thought of alcohol, “Then there's that Vodka shipment we took on our last raid, but I think you prefer good old fashioned beer and bourbon…”

It didn't take much effort to throw Cunningham off, as he jumped out of the command chair and bolted for the doorway, looking for a bathroom or porthole to vomit through. Some of the crew members began to applaud Vale for getting Friedrich to run out of the bridge, their gaining a moment of relief. Lyn, on the other hand, just shook her head as she took the command chair. “What are you clapping for? Back to work, all of you!” Lyn ordered, making everyone turn back to their stations.

Vale sighed comically, “Do you have to be so cruel Lyn? You've seen what Freddy can do in a sober state…”

”He is still the Captain, Vale…” Lyn started.

”But he's still fun to play with. And besides, I don't think the people here like being stomped on by a hung-over Captain.” Vale shot back, all knowingly.

Lyn took a breath of air, holding back a cryptic reply since she knew Vale was right. Friedrich had been barking orders for hours do too agitation, and had only recently calmed down. “What's the status on the mobile suits?” she asked, changing the subject.

”The Windams are okay, but my Raider took a lot of damage. I was about to go check on it, but I wanted to antagonize Freddy first.” Vale admitted.

Lyn gave Vale a skeptical glance, “This is a rarity. You getting hit by a burst like that.”

Vale narrowed his eyes, but he didn't lose his composure. “I underestimated that enemy pilot's reaction time, admittedly. But that hardly matters; his fate was sealed with a few Igelstellung rounds.”

”There's still the question…” Lyn continued. “Was it his skill or did you just slip up?”

The entire bridge crew turned to see Vale's reaction to that question, expecting steam to come out of his ears. Instead, much to everyone's surprise, Vale just laughed at that question. “A little bit of both. I left myself open, and he had the skill to take advantage of it. But that turned into his undoing in the end.” He turned, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mobile suit to inspect.” He started to walk.

I hate it when he's this frank. “Even without the Raider, I want you to stay on alert Vale. Porsche has a tendency to hold grudges.”

Vale nodded as he looked out from the elevator lift, “I'll borrow one of the Windams if anything happens.” He said, closing the door. A faint memory of the Wild Dagger leaping up to strike him appeared in Vale's mind, which had moved so close, the pilot's instinct took over his body and he over banked to avoid both the slash and to clear a shot for the Rommel's CIWS. He tapped in the button for the hangar deck. It's really a shame that guy died, he would've made a good sparring partner. Hell, he'd be a great nemesis… he contemplated that, as a quaint smile broadened, Nah, forget it. I've got enough of them.

 

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It took a couple moments, but the elevator finally reached the hangar deck of the Rommel. Vale promptly stepped out of the elevator and entered the somewhat cramped bay. The space annoyed Vale a little bit, because he knew it could've been bigger. Due to a special modification done to the Rommel, its hangar space had been reduced by half its original size, thus the mighty Lesseps-class could only hold up to six mobile suits compared to a standard ZAFT model's twelve. It also didn't leave as much room to walk through as one would have been used to, much to many a technician's dismay. While these reductions were not without reason, it was still a pain in the ass for him and the pilots under him, but he dealt with the limitations as much as he could.

Similar to a Tawara-class aircraft carrier, the Rommel had two hangar bays, one for three mobile suits and on either the starboard and port sides. Also like the Atlantic aircraft carrier, the mobile suits were lined up one after another, and were accessible by catwalks around the area. Vale's Raider was at the front of the bay, with two Windams behind it, so it took a little bit of time to get to the end.

As he approached his mobile suit, he saw the bullet holes left over from the Wild Dagger's barrage. It took some effort for him not to grimace, but one could tell he wasn't happy about it. Vale moved to the technician supervising the Raider. “What's the status of my mobile suit?” he asked up front.

The tech nearly jumped hearing Vale's voice behind him. He turned around and stood at attention. “Commander Hunter, sir!”

Vale rolled his eyes, “If you haven't noticed, pal, I left the military a long time ago. Therefore, it's `Vale', not `Commander'.”

”Can I call you Mr. Hunter then, sir?” the tech visibly chilled.

”No, but you can just stick with `sir' if it helps you.” Vale said, “Now, my mobile suit.”

”Yeah… The mobile suit…” the tech said. He gestured for Vale to look up at the back, “Whoever shot you knew what he was doing sir. He nailed the vernier and almost got the batteries. Fortunately, your Raider's Trans-Phase armor brought the overall velocity down, so they didn't pass into the cockpit. But…”

”But what?”

The tech gulped. “I don't think we can fix it sir.”

”Excuse me?” Vale arched an eyebrow.

”The Raider is an old mobile suit, and it was never fully mass produced, so there aren't many parts for it. But without your back vernier, she won't be able to fly again, and that's a bit of a problem.”

”Yes… That is a problem…” Vale said, as a scowl formed on his face. His voice wasn't loud, instead it was deadly even and calm, and yet displayed his rage greatly. It was the kind of tone that is seen in killers and psychopaths, and it displayed far more malice than a roar of fury ever could. “You can think of this mobile suit as my… partner. Yes, we've been together for a very long time, and you're telling me that my partner can't be fixed…”

The tech was visibly quaking, almost ready to piss his maintenance suit.

”That's bad news…for both me…” Vale's eyes narrowed. “And you.”

”Oh, lay off Vale. You're not fooling anybody.” Came a new voice. The owner of the voice was a brown-haired woman who was loosely involved in the conversation until now berated; she pushed back her pointy bangs, making them falling back a little on each side of her face and her mid-back length hair sway downward. She was dressed in black knee-high heeled boots, a black tube skirt, black halter top, and a red bolero "biker" jacket. Around her neck she had a long string wrapped several times around her neck and tied to look like a single necklace, two threads let loose to show off a pentagram on one and a white jewel on the other slightly higher on her chest than the other ornament. Her thin, lighter brown eyes glared at Vale.

Vale's demeanor immediately changed back to his high-spirited look upon her entering. “Why Elly, how could you say such a thing? I was just trying to tell this hardworking technician that the Raider means a lot to me, and I would very much hate for it to go.”

Ellis rolled her eyes and made her way between Vale and the tech. “Get back to work and do as much as you can. If anything, Captain Cunningham will have spare parts flown in from the mainland when we return.” She said firmly. As opposed to Vale's cool and almost sadistic voice, Ellis' was cold and harsh with little leniency. Of course, that was the way she generally acted, but this guy didn't know that.

”Ah, yes ma'am!” he snapped and ran off to another portion of the Raider, probably to avoid getting in another confrontation with either pilot.

Vale chuckled a little at this. “My, my, Elly, do you have to be so cruel to the poor technicians?”

Ellis' eyes narrowed into Vale's, “If I remember correctly, you were the one that was about to kill him on the spot.”

Vale shrugged, “He was giving poor excuses, and I got a little annoyed. Probably left over tension from Musashi-kun…”

”'Musashi-kun'?” Ellis asked confusingly.

”The Wild Dagger pilot with the kenjutsu skills.” Vale clarified.

”You weren't the one fighting him; therefore you have no right to complain.” Ellis shot.

Vale pretended to think for a moment. “Hmm, you're right. I was too busy saving your hard biker ass, all because you made the dumb mistake of dropping your Jet Striker.”

Ellis glared, “If I didn't, it would've been a hard time fighting `Musashi-kun', as you call him, in a melee. The Jet Striker is hard to maneuver with on the ground.”

”Maybe, but it's necessary. Unlike the Murasame you're used to or my beloved Raider here, the Windam isn't flight capable on its own, and you don't want to be stuck with a flightless mobile suit in the middle of the ocean.” Vale said cryptically.

”But I knew you'd save my `cute ass'.” Ellis said in a mocking tone.

Vale laughed a little bit at that. This was the general relationship between him and Ellis Tarat: they were partners, to the point where they knew each other's habits, likes and dislikes well, but not close enough for anything non-professional. This was a bit of a miracle in Gray Wolf, because Ellis was well-known for her cold and anti-social nature and anyone that tried hitting on her was shot down in minutes. It was unknown why she put up with Vale, especially since Ellis was from Orb and Vale's background was in the EAF like most of Gray Wolf, but that didn't really matter…

The blonde-haired pilot looked back up at his Raider. “Ah well, it was all worth it. We made a great haul and no one died. This has been a good day.”

Ellis nodded, as she slipped out a cigarette from her pocket and stuck it in her mouth. “As long as we don't run into anymore nutcases with swords, I think we'll be better off.”

”Agreed.”

 

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Catalina Island was seemingly floating in the middle of a blank spot between the California region of the Atlantic Federation and the Hawaiian Islands. A couple centuries ago, it had served as an American Navy SEALs training area, before it was promptly abandoned and transformed into a tourist trap for Californians in the mid 20th Century. Much to the thanks of Friedrich Cunningham and the rest of Gray Wolf, the Alliance had taken hold of the island shortly after the decomposition of the UN, and over a decade had transformed it into a true military base. While on the surface, the now-abandoned city of Avalon and the ruins of the SEAL training centers on Toyon Bay and Cherry Cove were still there, most of the island had been hollowed out and turned into an underground naval dock originally intended for Alliance submarines, but had been modified to house anything as big as a Lesseps-class.

To the outsider, it looked nothing more than a small tourist trap and summer camp area, but underneath laid a massive harbor and basin that took up a good portion of the island. Much like the Hawaiian Islands, Catalina had long since been abandoned by the EAF in preparations for the Junius Seven drop, but unlike what Portia did, Friedrich had actually bribed EAF officials into `leasing' the island, allowing Gray Wolf to have a base of operations in the Pacific Ocean. This attracted a good number of people into the group's service. Rogues, pirates, resistance groups, junk techs, people that didn't answer to a military group or ideology unless they were paid to do it. Just like in ancient times, when British interceptors raided galleons of their treasures across the Spanish sea, piracy was where the real money was, and many organizations had put their money on Cunningham's little organization in the same way they did on Serpent Tail. Even with the mercs aside, Catalina was an extremely popular hang out spot for those that could afford it. Even the military seemed to be interested…

”Home sweet home…” Friedrich said as he clenched his hand over the icepack on his head, and used his other hand to grab an oversized cane which was laid against the chair. Despite his grogginess, he had managed to return to the bridge and resume command, and much to his benefit, Vale stopped trying to aggravate him for the time being. His hangover had finally past too, but he still had a slim headache. As a bay door opened to reveal the harbor inside the island, Friedrich, Lyn and the rest of the bridge occupants got a good view of the harbor crews scrambling to get the docks ready for the arrival of three large ships. One thing everyone did notice was, in the middle of the harbor was a large metal crate, but nobody paid much attention to it. It didn't take long for the Rommel, Rigel, and Vega to dock and the crew of the Rommel to depart. Friedrich waited for most of the crew to depart before himself, Vale, Lyn and Ellis took down the ramp into the harbor.

”Welcome back, guys. Nice of you to bring back souvenirs.” Waiting to meet was a lone man of large build and what appeared to be Brazilian decent due to the tan skin, who seemed to be waiting eagerly. The man was dressed in what looked liked a gray colored BDUs with a black sleeveless t-shirt, black combat boots, and a silver earring on his right ear. His hair was slick back, going down the back of his head then seemingly moving in all directions. Other details included two rings on the left hand, one being a wedding ring, silver in color with a bright diamond at the top, while other was a red ring with a shield insignia at the top, which possessed the image of a red rose and two scimitars crossing underneath. “Makes it a lot easier for the move.”

”Hey Ed, I suppose you had a fine time in Brazil?” Friedrich began, as he walked over, cane under his arm like a crutch.

Edward Harrelson shrugged, “Eh, it was more the usual Captain, but I guess all heroes need to visit their countries once in a while.” He said, turning serious for a minute, “On the business end, while we're moving HQ, we may have to choose some place up North. You know that the Lady President is vacationing here for spring…”

”So? We can deal with Copland.” Friedrich replied.

”There was coup de tat on the President while you were out.” Edward reported.

”Ah. Did they get him?” the drunkard Captain asked.

Edward gave a half-smirk, “That's the bad news guys. They didn't, and because of that, Senora Presidente has ordered the 7th Pacific Fleet on full deployment…”

”…around the West Coast in a hunter-killer formation to hunt down those responsible. Fun, fun, fun…” Vale finished, all knowingly.

”Why should this concern Gray Wolf? We didn't do anything.” Friedrich said.

”That brings me to…” Ed began, but never got to finish because of a shrill voice that overpowered his even tone.

”JOHN SILVER!!!” came the howl that echoed throughout the cavern, making Friedrich's head throb and his pilots all focus their attention on the source of the voice. “Ah no…” Friedrich groaned as an Atlantic officer strolled his way, pulling back a hammer piece on the cane, revealing it to actually be an anti-MS grade long rifle.

The officer was a relatively thin man, with a thinned face and slicked back blonde hair, giving one the impression of a `male shrew'. There wasn't much to discern from the officer, aside from his loud, aggravating attitude and the rank tabs on his uniform, which established him as a Rear Admiral in the Atlantic Federal Forces. Now, if it weren't for the very loud voice, the group probably would have ignored the man, until one saw the two thug MPs walking alongside him. The Admiral gave Friedrich a wily grin, “I've been waiting to do this for a long time, Silver, but this… this all makes up for it.”

”Edward, can you translate? My head still hurts.” Friedrich said.

Edward thumbed back at the man, “Rear Admiral Richard Larson, pride of the Earth Alliance, thinks you're the one who ordered the strike on the President.” He said, sighing.

”How? We were out at sea when that happened…” Lyn started.

”A likely excuse indeed! How convenient of you to return to your port just after the crime, all in the cover of darkness too. Not very cunning of you, Silver!” Larson shouted out.

”Hmmm… He does have a point…” Vale thought, “I suppose it was pretty stupid of us to have a base just outside the scene of the crime…”

”So you admit to this, do you?” Larson said, seemingly out of joy.

”Stop giving people ideas, Vale!” Ellis shot up. "Remember the last time you opened your big mouth?" she added in a whisper, elbowing him with medium strength.

"Yeah, I got the whole crew a meal for free, what's your point?" Vale whispered back with a smirk.

"You shoved a gun in the waiter's mouth..."

"There's the 'easy' way, and there's 'my' way...'my' way worked, 'Elly'," Vale replied with a smirk.

Ellis sighed and stuck a "lite" cigarette in her lips from the inner pocket of her jacket. She lit it with a black lighter from a front pocket and moved aside with hands stuck in her jacket pockets, deciding she would just watch instead of join in the conversation. "Whatever," she mumbled out, amazingly able to keep the "cancer stick" in her lips as she spoke with full clarity.

”What? I didn't say we did it. And even if we did, how are you going to arrest us?” Vale asked, all-knowing grin coming on his face.

”Oh, these two gentlemen here will escort you to my flagship. Feel free to resist, but I wouldn't recommend it.” Larson said snidely, gesturing at the two thug MPs, who grinned at the thought of resistance. “I'm sure High Command would love to hear from you, Commander Hunter, as well as our South American hero.” He looked at Edward, who glared at the Admiral. “Or perhaps traitor would be a better term, Mr. Ripper…”

”You misunderstood my friend Admiral.” Edward replied, a smirk forming on his face as well.

”And how did I?” Larson shot back.

”He doesn't want to know the process of our arrest; he wants to know how you'll act in your position.” Edward said.

”Eh…?” That's he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. When he turned around to see who wanted his attention, the same hand punched him across the face, sending him to the ground. The two MPs picked the Admiral up off the ground, but they didn't dare move against the hand that punched Larson.

”Nobody threatens my husband's life… Except for me…” came the coyly reply of a blonde haired woman, dressed in a pair of gray BDU pants with a matching gray jacket wrapped around the torso, a tight fitting navy blue top that seemed to be more of a paint job than actual clothing, and a golden brace wrapped around her neck. She also had a wedding ring similar to Ed's, except it was shaped like a dolphin, with the diamond placed like an eye, as well as a ring with a strange insignia. The insignia was that of a white whale, but with a submarine conning tower on its back and torpedo tubes on the side of its nose, displayed over a multi-colored crest that was shaped like ocean waves in the middle. Behind her was a rather large mob of Gray Wolf members, all wielding anything from metal pipes to sub-machine guns, just waiting for the EAF members to try something against Friedrich and the rest of the Rommel crew.

While the MPs were distracted, Vale and Ed both attacked. Ed grabbed the back of his imposer's head and slamming him face first into the concrete floor, then thrusting a Walther P99 into the back of his scalp. Vale's opponent managed to turn around before the mobile suit pilot could strike, but Vale grabbed his hand and performed a CQC move that placed him behind his opponent, both arms holding the MP in place while the knife in Vale's left hand was pointed along the MP's throat. Larson looked around; expecting more aid to come his way, but none came.

”If you're looking for the rest of your men, I'm afraid they're incapacitated.” The blonde said, “We put them back in your ship, and as you can see, all of our defense guns are pointed to it.” She gestured at Larson's own Des Moines-class cruiser, the O'Bannon, which was docked further down from the Rommel. As Larson saw, the defense turrets closest to his ship were all pointed at it, and to make matters worse, two GAT-04+AQM/E-M11 Dopplehorn Windams were training their twin cannons at the O'Bannon's bow.

”You wouldn't…” Larson began to snarl.

Edward rested a hand on Larson's shoulder, “You'd better listen to the wife, man. She makes a profession out of sinking ships.”

”We'll let you go on the condition you leave right away with your ship without any resistance.” The blonde explained casually. The rest of the mob seemed content with this, as nobody raised any voice against the woman's offer.

Larson growled, “Alright, alright, I'll leave for now, but make no mistake, John Silver, it isn't over between us! Not by a long shot!” He got up and began to march with his ship, along with the two MPs after their release from Vale and Ed.

Friedrich rubbed his head again, feeling his headache drop in intensity at seeing Larson leave. “Remind me never to piss you off Jane. Better yet, talk to me later, I may send you out to disable that asshole's ship.”

”Only disable?” Jane Houston Harrelson smiled with a sadistic edge in her tone.

”It wouldn't look good for us if we killed a Rear Admiral, even if he is a joke. The EAF would surely use it as an excuse to tighten their authority on the planet.” Lyn said. “And that would give us a lot of problems now, since we're evacuating.”

Jane sighed, “Good point.”

”On the side subject guys…” Vale chimed in, “What's up with the giant metal box sitting ominously?” he gestured crate, which was the size of a Windam, just in front of the harbor command center.

Edward shrugged, “Don't know. We just woke up this morning and it was there. We checked it over for explosives or radiation, but we couldn't find anything. It's safe for the most part.”

”You sure Cortez didn't drop it off last night?” Friedrich asked.

”Didn't see him unload it.” Edward said.

”What about the box's contents?” Lyn stepped in as well.

Edward shook his head, “The thing won't open except to some command code. The code is the answer to this question: `What comes forth from the second seal?'.”

”'What comes forth from the second seal?'” Vale asked, raising an eyebrow. For some reason, that line felt familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. “Couldn't you just cut it open?”

”That's the thing.” Jane said, explaining, “For whatever reason, that crate comes equipped with Phase Shift Armor, the most advanced I've ever seen. We've tried everything, beam sabers, anti-ship swords, beam cannons, Dopplehorns, even one of the defense cannons. The thing has survived all of it.”

Ellis' jaw dropped, “Who'd go to the trouble of equipping a box with Phase Shift Armor?”

”Someone who doesn't want the box to be opened yet.” Lyn said.

Amidst them, Vale was still contemplating the question. It was one of those déjà vu situations to him, where he knew he had heard that phrase, but he couldn't remember where or when, much more what the answer to it was. For a moment, he felt hazy as the question echoed around his brain. He looked up at the box, and he felt something come over him, an image in the back of his mind. Something the size of a flower seed floating in the open abyss in a purple color, starting to crack…

”Vale?” he heard Lyn's voice call him.

Vale blinked once and the sensations vanished. He noticed that everyone was looking at him as if he had just grown another head. “You okay man?” Edward spoke out.

”Why? Is there a problem?” Vale asked, a little confused.

”You phased out for a good three minutes. You want to go visit Doc Pierce?” Friedrich explained, concerned.

”Nah, I'm alright.” Vale said, shrugging, “I guess I overdid it a little today.”

”Hard day, eh?” Edward asked.

”Let's just say `Queenie' has gotten some real pilots to do her dirty work. One of them trashed my Raider and almost did in Ellis.” Vale explained.

”He wasn't that hard to me.” Ellis shot.

”Sure he wasn't. How can anyone be difficult with a move like 'Gentle Breeze of Retribution'?” Vale pointed out.

Ellis nearly dropped the cigarette out of her mouth, “You were listening!?”

”Not really. You two were on broadband and my computer picked up your retorts.” Vale pointed out.

”Damn it…” Ellis coughed. She didn't like people catching her screw ups.

Cunningham sighed, “Can we just keep to business please? My headache's getting worse.”

”Not to give you something to think about in your state Captain, but something has been bothering me…” Lyn came back in. “Porsche has been getting a lot more resources lately, more than others among her caliber should…”

”Well, Break the World has made things a lot easier when it comes to gathering military resources.” Jane replied.

”But that's the thing. You would think there would be a tractable source for all this income, but no one has found any. It's like she's pulling her mobile suits, ships and weaponry out of thin air.” Lyn said.

Cunningham gave Lyn a dull glare with a throbbing eye. He hated deep thinking when he was like this. “And why should this concern me right now?”

”Because Captain…” Edward stepped in for Lyn's behalf. “Until we find out which toy store Porsche is getting her junk, her little army of wind-up robots will keep growing and growing at this rate. Worst case scenario would be something that neither we nor the Atlantic Federation could handle...”

The Gray Wolf leader thought for a moment. An image came into his head that showed Porsche standing on the shoulder of some Dagger giving her trademark `idiot laugh' as mobile suits marched around her. It made him want to vomit. “Alright, fine, fine. We pursue this, but who would have that kind of info?”

”What about Rukeeny?” Vale answered.

Cunningham visibly cringed, “No! Not Rukeeny! I don't want to deal with that asshole at a time like this.”

”I agree. That guy is messed up, royally. Not that I can talk with present company and all.” Edward laughed. This earned him a hard slug on the back of the head from Jane. “Oww.” Edward whined from the force.

”Well, there is one source, someone with similar connections.” Lyn came back in. “Poppa B.”

This earned a skeptical glance from everyone, even Vale. “Poppa B?” Cunningham let out, “The pimp?”

”Who else would have a name like that?” Ellis said cryptically.

”I know he has a weird profession, Captain, but he would know.” Lyn said.

”Yeah, with how fucked up the world is, people like him are the ones that know best.” Vale nodded. He turned to Ed, who was still rubbing the back of his head. “We could use a trip to LA.”

Edward liked the sound of that. “Hey yeah! It's that time of year when woman…” he didn't see it, but he knew Jane re-casted her Killer Death Glare on him again. He stopped in mid-sentence. “…like to go shopping at Beverly Hills.”

”Don't you mean `bare most' Eddie?” Vale chimed.

”Ix-nay on that Vale.” Ed whispered.

Cunningham grabbed his head in pain. Too much movement, too much information coming into his mind. He finally gave up. “Alright, fine, whatever. You two can go tomorrow and do whatever the hell you want, but right now…” his eyes crossed, “I think I'm going to pass out…” Just as he mentioned that, Cunningham fell face first to the ground, unconscious.

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TO BE CONTINUED…