Gundam SEED Fan Fiction ❯ Mobile Suit Gundam SEED: Odyssey V ❯ Distant Thunder ( Chapter 3 )

"At the academy, we were all taught to believe that we'd be like the Red Baron, that as warriors, killing was a hunt, and we were big game hunters. Course, since we kill each other over reasons besides nourishment, we're no more hunters than Elmer Fudd was."
-Dearka Elthman

Phase 03: Distant Thunder

Even after the dark red '69 Chevy Nova (CE model of course) pulled over to the street curb next to the Inglewood Arms apartment complex, Vale Hunter and Edward Harrelson took a good five minutes before they got out of the car. Neither of them wanted to get out, because the weather in California was bright and sunny, which meant the temperature was somewhere in the hundreds. Vale, now donning a black `Ammunation Superstore, Liberty City' t-shirt instead of his usual fighter pilot jacket and black cargo pants wiped the sweat off his forehead before walking to the back of the car where Edward was waiting for him. “I keep telling you; Captain Kirk was the best thing that happened to Star Trek. The whole franchise just wasn't the same when William Shatner and the original cast left.” Vale said, continuing the argument the two had been going on about since the got to the mainland.

Edward, who like Vale was wearing a black tank top and urban camo pants instead of his usual garb, gave him a raised eyebrow while popping open the trunk, “What the hell are you talking about? Jean-Luc Picard was da man. There's no way Kirk can compare to a man of class and character like that.” He reached in and took out a pair of handguns, specifically his Walther P99 and one of Vale's SV Infinity (both antiques). He handed Vale the Colt and then pulled out some magazines with .40S&W, proceeding to stuff them in his pockets. “Really, all Kirk ever did was screw a woman in every episode like he was some ladies man…”

”And you have a problem with this, Mr. I-Used-To-Hit-On-Every-Female-In-A-Military-Uniform?” Vale countered with a smirk, stuffing his own pockets with .45ACP mags. He loved these sessions with Ed, mainly because he knew which buttons to push. This was obvious from the glint he had in his magenta colored eyes.

”Hey, I don't mind screw count, but like I said, Picard had class to him. He knew how to treat a woman, whereas Kirk just takes one look and goes in for the kill.” Edward stated.

”No he didn't, Kirk was the Casanova of his time, so he had his own class to him.” Vale said, “Besides, who cares about the women of that show? Being a gentleman won't matter if you don't have the muscle to back it up.”

”What do you mean?” Ed asked.

”Kirk was a warrior. While he did try to do things without fighting, he wasn't afraid to fight back when the time called for it. Picard, on the other hand, wouldn't take an inch to stand up for himself. Until Star Trek Insurrection of course.” Vale said, popping one of the magazines into his Colt.

”Hey, Picard did well standing up for himself, considering he was pitted against the Borg. What the hell did Kirk have to face? Klingons without those forehead blocks? Space amoebas? Space hippies?” Edward shot back.

”Space hippies?” Vale looked confused.

”That stupid `Eden' episode.” Edward shrugged.

”Eh, didn't like that one at all. Still, Kirk had his fair share of enemies. He had Khan, the Klingons with headbones, Romulans as per Balance of Terror, not to mention all these space time anomalies running around…” Vale continued, as he finished loading his weapons.

”Please, a Romulan Bird of Prey can't compare to a Warbird, sorry.” Edward said. The two soon began to walk toward the building.

”At the time, it really freaked America out. That was the first time anyone considered enemies that could become invisible like that, and that was one of the things that eventually led to stealth technology.” Vale said, looking over at Ed, “What did Next Generation inspire, besides a whole new cult of fans rallying to the Borg?”

”That's not the argument here Vale. We're comparing James T. Kirk and Jean-Luc Picard, remember?” Edward said.

”Good point.” Vale thought for a moment as they walked to the apartment lobby entrance, “Okay, let's just say both Captains had their ups and downs, and they both beat the hell out of the scum running the EAF.” He said as he brushed back strands of his blonde hair.

”Fair enough.” Edward said. As they entered the lobby, both looked upwards at the floors above. Being a California apartment building, the place was naturally run down. Despite being inside, neither Vale nor Ed felt any air conditioning, and the bright light of the Sun shining through windows made the place look like a giant prison hotbox. “So, what the hell are we here for anyway? Cunningham didn't give me a lot of details.”

”Well, you know how Porsche has been a lot more active lately, right? We're here to find out why.” Vale answered, moving over to an elevator and pressing the `down' button.

Edward was confused, “We're seeing a pimp for that?”

”That pimp is actually the best informant on the mainland, unless Kenav decides to move Earth-side. Chances are he'll know a thing or two.” Vale explained, “So, we're going to take the guy for a Jeopardy game, with these for buzzers…” he waved his Colt at Edward, who grinned smugly.

”I like the sound of that…” Edward said. When the elevator came down, the two doors shifted open with a screeching grind, and Vale and Ed stared inside to see blood splattered along the back of the elevator. It was obvious to both someone got whacked in the elevator, but they couldn't tell how recently. “Poor Johnny…” Edward exclaimed.

Vale's smirk naturally grew a little, “Welcome to the Hotel California.” he muttered, looking over the bloodstains. He and Ed had seen worse. “Stairs?” he looked over to Ed.

”Yeah.” Ed nodded. Both moved away from the elevator and began to pace up the stairs to the third floor, where their target resided. That didn't mean the talking ended though. “Still, shouldn't we be more concerned about the EAF?”

”Why should we? Because of Larson?” Vale asked.

”No, more serious than that.” Edward replied grimly, “The 7th Autonomous is in town.”

”The Last Chancers?” Vale stopped for a moment, his smirk dropping, which happened when something actually got past his usual lines of information. “Damn, when did they show up Earth side?”

”Sometime last week. Rumor is Copland himself asked Schaeffer to drop down, don't know why.” Ed said.

”Okay, so they're here to guard the President or do some top secret Special Forces mission. That's no big deal.” Vale replied.

”If they group up with the 7th Fleet, it will be a big deal Vale. The Lion of Midnight's in the 7th.” Ed explained.

”Getting the willies, Mr. Ripper?” Vale shot back, smirk returning.

”Nah man, I'm cool. I know you, me, Jane and maybe, just maybe Ellis could take that guy, but the rest of Gray Wolf would be cannon fodder. That's not good, and we don't need him coming after us.” Ed said.

”Well, unless Schaeffer wants to lose him to four aces, two of which have reputations for being `playful', then Matthew Crichton won't give two shits about us.” Vale said knowingly.

”I hope you're right…” Ed said, as they made it to the floor. Like the rest of the building, the third floor was mostly decayed. Doors to rooms were boarded over, there were bullet holes in the walls, paint peel offs and rubble that was scattered along the floor. This didn't bother Vale or Edward, they continued onto a room marked `336' and Edward knocked twice. After a moment, someone came up and cracked open the door, though it was still held by a chain bolt. “What's up, holmes?”

”We're here for business with Poppa B.” Edward said.

”You'z ain't regula's.” The thug on the other door observed.

”Ah, come on friend, we just got into town, and it's been a long morning.” Vale jumped in. He took out a wad of dollars from his pocket and slipped it to the door.

The thug took the dollar wad, “Poppa B's got what you'z need then.” He closed the door, undid the bolt lock and opened it. Vale and Edward watched the door open, but they didn't go in at first. Their gazes narrowed as they saw the inside of the apartment was in a rich purple, with furry carpeting, 1960s `hippy' styled furniture and bizarre odds and ends all around. Ed almost felt himself go blind from sheer amount of purple, which was even richer than Vale's choice colors, and even he had the decency to include white, black and gold in his mixture.

“Poppa B's in da back.” The thug gestured with a pump action shot gun, which he had no doubt been training from behind the door while talking to Ed.

Ed and Vale hesitantly entered the room and started toward the back, past more thugs with guns that were eyeing them. “Fun, fun, fun…” Vale muttered as they walked into a living room, where their quarry was relaxing.

”Yo, yo, what do we have `ere?” said a man relaxing on a couch, eating a pizza. He was obviously a pimp, with a purple business suit that matched the color of the room, a long golden chain with an equally gold dollar sign hanging at the end, and two hookers, one being black and the other Chinese, sitting next to him while he was playing his game. Then there was the smarmy, high pitched voice that Ed and Vale both took a disliking toward. “A smilin' white boy and a bigass nigga'. What can Poppa B do for ya boyz?”

”You Poppa B?” Ed asked, a little perplexed. Although he was expecting a pimp, he didn't think it'd be some small fry like this.

”That's right, nigga. Or just Mr. B, because the B takes care of all ya needz.” The man's arrogance was obvious due to the way he referred to himself in third person. Vale remembered certain EA pilots tended to do that, but those were lab-rat cases. This guy did it because he thought highly of himself, and deep down it annoyed him. He slowly moved to another part of the room and started looking around.

Ed, on the other hand, decided to play along. “Hm, looks like we caught you in the middle of lunch, Mr. B. Sorry for that.”

”No proble-em.” Poppa B said smoothly.

”What'cha eating?” Ed asked, looking over the pizza. Usually, situations like this worked out best if you started with small talk, and he had been in plenty of these situations.

”Pizza.” One of the girls chimed in.

”So I see. What kind of pizza?” Ed continued.

”Pepperoni, nigga.” Poppa B replied as if it were obvious.

”No, I meant, where did you get it? Papa John's? Dominos? Pizza Hut?” Ed asked.

”Ah, sorry `bout that. NYPD.” Poppa B replied, saying `NYPD' like a `gansta' rap.

”New York Police Department?” Ed asked, confused.

”New York Pizza Department, Eddie.” Vale chimed in again, “It's that New York-style pizzeria chain; got some great pizzas. You should try one.”

”Alright, mind if try a slice?” Ed asked Poppa B.

”Not at all, nigga.” Poppa B said.

Edward reached in and took a slice. Being New York-styled, the crust was pretty flimsy, so he folded the slice up like a hotdog bun and took a bite. Immediately, he took a liking to the pizza. “Mmm-hm.” He said, “You picked a great pizza, Mr. B. Myself, I'm more of a hamburger fan, but I still love a good pizza…” he pointed at a Pepsi can next to the pizza box, “Can I wash it down with that.”

”Whateva'. Let's get down to business though.” Poppa B stated.

”Oh, by all means.” Edward said, as he reached for the Pepsi and took a sip. After he let out a refreshed sigh, he looked over at the pimp and smiled. “We're here on the behalf of Mr. Cunningham. You know a Mr. Cunningham, don't you?”

”Yeah, yeah, I `he'rd' of that asshol'.” Poppa B gestured with his hands, “Six foot three, German, thinks he'z some nazi with that badass overcoat and hat, former EAF dawg…”

”That's him.” Edward said, “Now, it's come to Mr. Cunningham's attention that you know some things of a Miss Porsche, who claims to be the Pirate Queen, am I right?”

There was an uneasy moment in the room, as the pimp took a moment to contemplate a response. ”Don't know what you're talkin' `bout nigga.” Poppa B shot back.

”Oh, but you do…” came the serpent like voice of Vale Hunter, “Or there'd be no reason for that guy hiding in the bathroom to get edgy.”

Upon Vale mentioning that, another thug, this one lanky and slim as opposed to the big burly bodyguard types in the other room, but armed with a revolver. He didn't get the chance to shoot it, as Vale quick drew his 1911A1 and blasted a neat .45 hole in his forehead. A pair of other thugs ran in, but before they could apprehend Vale, they stopped dead in their tracks.

Edward had drawn his Walther P99 and had it aimed at Poppa B. “Now, let me repeat. It's come to Mr. Cunningham's attention you know some things of a Miss Porsche the Pirate Queen, am I right?”

”Look, nigga, I don't know…” Poppa B began now shivering. His two girls had run off in the confusion, and he was alone on the couch, and close to shitting his pants.

Edward groaned and shot one of the thugs that rushed in three times in the chest. Due to the natural velocity of a .40S&W bullet at close range, all three bullets went through the man's back and he recoiled into a corner after the first shot, while the next two hit him so hard that he actually broke through the wall and made a nice sized dent. He slumped to the ground after Edward stopped firing, dead. “No, Marvin!” Poppa B let out.

Vale's smirk turned into a devilish grin. It was nice to have a partner with such style like Ed. Maybe he did have a point about Picard… he thought.

”I believe you were going to say something foolish, again?” Edward asked, re-aiming his Walther at Poppa B.

The pimp trembled at seeing Marvin's now permanent state. ”I've he'rd a thing or two about her. She'z that black chick from outer space, right?”

”Good. In that case, we have some questions we'd like to ask, on behalf of Mr. Cunningham…” Edward said.

”Fuck you cracka'!” yelled one of the bodyguards, lifting his shot gun faster than either Ed or Vale thought he could and firing a burst at Ed. Possessing greater reflexes that came unique to being Ed the Ripper, Edward leapt away from the burst just as the slugs exited the gun barrel, while Vale took out the bodyguard. Ed rolled to the side and took out the last two before they could train their weapons.

”Ah shit, shit!!” Poppa B cried as he covered his head with his hands. He would've bolted for the door, but he had just peed in his pants, and was afraid of incidentally crapping if he got up.

”You know, I don't think you understand what we're doing here…” Edward said, “We didn't come to rub you out, man. We just want you to answer some questions, but because you haven't been so kind to us, you now have two options.” He rose his index finger to gesture a `1'. “Number one, we talk this out like civilized criminals, and in the end you become a little richer while we become a little wiser…” Ed reached back and pulled out a wad of dollar bills from his pocket.

The sight of money made Poppa B think for a second, but he was still unsure. “And option number two?”

”Option number two is…” Vale chimed in; “We leave you now and go home…” he pulled out his combat knife, “But with your right hand this time. We need some payoff for all the unnecessary trouble we've gone through today…”

Poppa B gulped, “Can ya wait a minute for me to change?”

--------------------------------

”So you're sure that our mystery box isn't one of yours?” Friedrich asked the man walking beside him as they continued down the docking area.

A tall man clad in an EAF uniform much like Lyn's except designed for male officers looked over to the crate standing on the harbor deck and shook his head. “My apologies Senor, but I'm afraid that I did not deliver this box to you, and I can't tell if it's ZAFT or Alliance in origin.” Former EAF-Captain Fernando Cortez spoke in a deep voice that almost overlapped his Cuban accent. Complete with his goatee, black hair and dark brown eyes. There was an aura of charm that surrounded this man, even when he was being forthcoming like this. “I can try and help you figure out the locking mechanism if you'd like me to…”

”No, there is no need for that. You've done enough for us coming here, even if it wasn't part of your schedule.” Friedrich replied.

Cortez laughed, “Not at all, Friedrich. You are my friend.” He said, "Though I do wish we could meet under circumstances outside of business. Why can't we ever meet for dinner or for recreational purposes?”

Friedrich simply nodded in response, “We can't exactly afford to take time off now Fernando. There's too much to do and too many things happening.” He said. “On one end, we have Porsche trying to butt into our territory. On the other, we have the Atlantic Federation and EAF starting to take the initiative. Then in between, there are all these nutcases like The Stampede running around, indirectly making business difficult. God forbid somebody hires Serpent Tail or Canard Pars to come down after us…”

”You worry too much Friedrich. The world is not out to get Gray Wolf as you think, it's too busy boiling over on its own troubles.” Cortez tried to reassure him.

Friedrich replied by tipping his hat so the brim was just over his face, “That's what it feels like sometimes, the whole world being out to bite us in the ass.”

”Think what you will my friend, but as for me, I just go along with it until something happens.” Cortez shrugged, “Onto business however, I doubt you called me down here just to look at a box.”

Friedrich nodded and passed a datapad over to Cortez. Upon receiving it, Cortez began to look over its contents. "Two Atlantic designed freighters, the Rigel and Vega. Cargo contents includes two Eurusian Thunderbolt IV SCUDs, a pair of ZGMF-1000 ZAKU Warriors with full armaments, MMI beam rifles, Atlantic assault rifles, Scandinavian mines and explosives, at least five East Asian Xiang Nu missiles, plus one refrigerator of Oceania origin.” Friedrich quoted the list.

Cortez nodded in approval, turning back to Friedrich, “Excellent, most excellent. Is this going to be for cash or trade?”

”Aside from the usual payments, I want to trade for a mobile suit of the EAF 300 class.” Friedrich said.

”A transformable model, eh?” Cortez smiled, “Let me guess, it's for the Black Joker, am I right? Wasn't he using a GAT-333?”

”Unfortunately, that Raider's CPU has fallen into disrepair.” Friedrich explained, “And since we're leaving Catalina soon, we'll need ASAP.”

“You're abandoning your base?” Cortez wondered.

“It's been getting harder and harder to do business here, and now with this recent assassination attempt on the President, it's going to get even harder. So, we're leaving.” Friedrich explained.

“Have you found a new base yet?” Cortez asked.

Cunningham shook his head, “We will operate from the Rommel for the time being. The long range of a 300 mobile suit will really help us here.”

”Hmmm…” Cortez said, looking over the list again, “I'm afraid it will take a few weeks before I can get my hands on a GAT-300 type, but rest assured I will find one. Until then, I can lend Mr. Nightmare a Murasame…”

”Won't do…” Friedrich shook his head, “Not that Vale's picky, it's just the Murasame's CPU is pretty different from the Raider's. Vale would need some time to train on it before he could use it as well as the Full Spec.”

”So what are you going to do with him in the mean time?” Cortez asked.

”I hate to do this but I may have to leave Edward Harrelson in charge of my mobile suit forces.” Friedrich said, “Although I hope my luck holds out and we get a new MS for him soon, he's too good of a pilot to keep on the ground.”

Cortez laughed a little, “I never took you as one who believed in luck. Maybe you'll get lucky and find a mobile suit that's not of Eurusian makes...” he scoffed that last phrase, “Dammit, I hate Eurusians. Ever since they've broken down in power, they've been even more trouble to do business with than they're worth.”

”I take it you're still not over those Hyperion Gundams raiding your convoys back in the war?” Friedrich asked.

”Even when we were `allies', they still attacked my lines and made it all the more difficult to get supplies to the front. They were more trouble than ZAFT was.” Cortez snarled, “Just what possessed the Eurusians to take in such foul beasts.”

Now it was Friedrich's turn to laugh, “Come on, Fernando, you should let that one go. Pars and Arendo were acting without orders on those raids, and Pars went renegade shortly after too.”

”Yes, and I'm thankful he killed the `Eagle of Artemis' when he did, one less thorn in my side, but the Eurusians denied such incidents took place.” Cortez raised his index finger and waved it at Friedrich, “No, I do not have any hatred for Canard Pars, I merely hate how the Eurusians handled those `incidents' and how they've continued to handle things even when the world was plunged into chaos. Their armies are in shambles, their territories are fragmented and they have no hold over their own people. So what do they do? The cowards sit in their capital and watch their own land and power fall, just like those imbecile French did in the past World War."

"Maybe." Friedrich said, as they continued to walk. "But if it weren't for their ignorance, we wouldn't be having so much freedom in the meantime. Especially since the other Alliance nations have stepped in to help them reclaim their power, thus leaving their own borders unguarded."

"Yes, yes, of course. It only pains me to see such incompetent people running the world." Cortez assured, patting Friedrich on the back. A few moments later, the sound of the bay doors opening echoed through the cavern, and soon after the rotors of a Heli transport craft replaced them.

”Looks like Vale and Edward have returned…” Cunningham said, a thin smile coming over his face.

On the Heli, Vale looked over to see how Ed was holding up from listening to the informant. He saw that his comrade was pretty pissed off to say the least, so he decided to get his mind off the subject once more. “I still say Captain Kirk was the best.” Vale told Edward over the rotor sounds as they came in over a helipad.

Edward did stop, but not quite the way Poppa B expected it. The Heli came to drop landing, causing the whole craft to rock. Ed turned to face the pimp with a very annoyed glare on his face. “Didn't we settle that already?” he said, putting his annoyance forth at full power.

Vale shrugged innocently, “I thought you could use a friendly reminder…”

”Fine, fine, you like William Shatner. Can we find another subject, please?” Edward demanded.

The blonde haired pilot leaned back for a moment to think, “Okay, who do you thinks the best actor, John Travolta or Samuel L. Jackson?” he said.

Edward sighed, “You're hopeless, man. Completely hopeless.” With that, he opened the pilot side hatch and began to undo his safety harness. Vale did the same with his own hatch and harness.

Immediately as they got out, guards ran up from the building walkway, but they weren't the kind Vale and Ed were expecting. In fact, they weren't guards at all, but four men wielding two Louisville sluggers, a two-by four with a nail through it and a silenced 9mm pistol. The leader of the group was a good sized guy, with tied back red hair, brown eyes and a squinted face which hinted at his North American in origin. Like Vale, he was dressed in all black much like Vale and Edward, except he wore a `Punisher' black t-shirt (complete with white skull emblem) and cargo pants. Aside from that, he had a pair of shaded glasses over his forehead and a tattoo on his left arm, but that was covered up by his shirt. The other two were dressed in white tank-tops, gray pants and were all wearing yellow bandannas, probably some gang that did business with Gray Wolf.

“Finally get back from the trip boys?” the leader of the thugs said. It was obvious that they were looking at Vale.

”Hm? Did I do something Thomas?” Vale wondered, just as the leader fired a single 9mm round across his face. His aim was pretty good, except Vale actually tilted his head just as the bullet came at him. They were definitely serious.

Thomas Kurtz, another mobile suit pilot in Gray Wolf glared at Vale with contempt, “Yes, Hunter…” he said, “I still need to get back at you for trashing my Windam, and my friend T-Bone here also has a…bone to pick with you.” He gestured to the one with the two-by-four, who was a hispanic man.

The man was about to make his own intimidating line, but he was cut short by the sound of Edward Harrelson laughing. “T-Bone…? Heh heh, let me guess, that's supposed to make you sound tough, right? Or did Thomas pick you up from Black Angus?” this caused T-Bone's full rage and hate to turn over from the pilot to the South American mobile suit ace. Edward ignored his glare and looked at the other to. “What about you guys? Are you `Sirloin' and `Prime Rib'? Heh heh heh.” he continued to laugh.

”Son of a bitch…” one of with the baseball bat growled, tightening his grip. “We've scalped people for less than that…”

Vale waved his hand at the two, signaling them to back off. They did, not because of the signal, but because of the mischievous grin that increased over Vale's face. Everybody on the island knew that grin as much as they knew Edward Harrelson's brutality. “Tough luck, gentlemen. This is our island, so if you don't like it, we'll be happy to send you off. Especially to the bottom of the Pacific.” He chimed.

He glanced over at Thomas again and narrowed his eyes, “As for you, you need to get a life outside of mobile suits…” he said mockingly, “C'mon man, don't you have any hobbies?”

Thomas' hate Vale seemed to burst into flames around him, “You…”

”*AHEM*” coughed a new voice. The three looked back to the entryway to see Friedrich Cunningham just in front of it, along with Lynsie Schneider, Fernando Cortez and a few guards with assault rifles. “Mr. Mendez, while I value our partnership, I will warn you: do not interfere with my other businesses.” He threatened, his voice sounding gruff like a bulldog's. He looked over at Thomas, “And we've been over this Thomas. Your Windam will be repaired and refurbished, but you lost that battle. Leave it at that. And you two, stop wasting time, we got work to do!” he barked impatiently at Vale and Edward.

”Right boss.” Edward said. He and Vale stepped aside, and Ed gestured for Vale to go first, but Vale returned the gesture, so the South American pilot went through the three while brushing his shoulder across Thomas'. This was just to anger him more, as well as taking a cue from Vale and grinning to further drive him. It worked, and Thomas looked like he would've jumped at Edward if Cunningham weren't standing there watching them. Vale didn't do anything at first, but when he was a good few feet from the three, he stopped and thought about something. “Hold on a sec.” he said over to Friedrich.

Rather than wait for Friedrich to say yes, Vale spun back around and paced over to Thomas, staring at him attentively. He looked over Thomas' face as if it were a museum exhibit, tilting his head around and even walking around him once. All this conjured up more anger within the rival pilot, and after some time, he asked the question. “What the hell are you looking at Hunter?” he growled at Vale like a chained dog that couldn't reach the cat across the fence.

Coincidentally, Vale's cheshire cat grin returned. “I think your shades look better on me.” Without another word, he flung his right hand upward and snatched the glasses off of Thomas' face. He followed this by spin kicking Thomas across the face with such force that he spun and landed on the ground face first. “Get used to being outdone Thomas. It will happen quite often.” He said, then turning and walking away while T-Bone and his subordinates rushed to Thomas' side.

The guards escorting the group jaw dropped seeing the three large men get kicked around like dummies, while Cortez raised an eyebrow and Friedrich and Lyn just sighed. Edward laughed to himself.

Friedrich groaned in annoyance, Instead of real people, I get these wierdos…

--------------------------------

 
”What do you mean `he didn't know shit'!?” Friedrich's jaw dropped as he heard Edward's response.

”You heard me boss, the pimp didn't know how Porsche or the rest of our enemies got so much mobile suit, just the reason why: something big's happening in the east.” Ed said.

Friedrich groaned but managed to keep himself straightened out. “Do you have any details on what's going in the east then? Is the EAF threatening to make another Destroy Gundam or something?”

”Just rumors about strange mobile suits and activities over there, but for all we know, Sauron's back and he wants his ring returned.” Vale replied snidely.

Cunningham couldn't believe this; even the most prestigious informant in the Earthsphere besides Kenav Rukeeny had supplied them with nothing. Aside from small bits of information one could find in a fortune cookie note, he and Gray Wolf had nothing to act out on. Beside him, Lyn shrugged. “Looks like we may have to meet with Rukeeny after all, Captain.”

”Alright, but you make the arrangements Lyn.” Friedrich groaned, he hated dealing with that rat faced bastard. He looked over between Ed and Vale, “I don't care what you two have to do to him, in fact I'm hoping you remove a few of his fingers. Just make sure to get something dece…”

”Hey, if you guys don't mind, some of us are working over here!” yelled a serious voice not far from where Friedrich, Vale and Edward were having their conversation. In fact, they were all at the designated `front' of the mysterious Phase Shift armored box that had been placed in the center of the bay, between Edward's Sword Calamity, Jane's Forbidden Blue and Vale's Raider Full Spec at the `rear', which wasn't repaired but still would keep some of Friedrich's clients from trying to steal the box. Friedrich, Vale and Ed were at one side of the `front' while Cortez and another Gray Wolf member at the control panel indented on the center, working on opening it.

The one who called out to the three was actually a young boy no older than 13 years of age or so, but possessing narrowed blue eyes, spiky silver hair that even outmatched Vale's blonde hair in brightness, and a `serious' demeanor about him. He was dressed in a black shirt, a pair of gray pants with a jacket wrapped around the waist and boots. At the moment, he looked quite frustrated and yet curious as he typed around. “Let's try this one…” he said, typing in a key command. “P-A-N-D-O-R-A…*enter*”

A shrill BEEEP rang from the box, loud enough to make the three at the side cover their ears. “Damn it Isamu, that's getting annoying!” Friedrich yelled as the beep died down.

”Hey, I don't like it either! But I don't see you or anyone else working on this!” Isamu Yuna Kotetsu, Gray Wolf's chief computer programmer and unofficial hacker yelled back before typing in more commands.

Cortez raised an eyebrow and looked over to Cunningham, “You let him talk to you like that, senor?”

Friedrich shrugged, “Don't worry, Isamu's one of those programmers that gets into whatever he's working on.”

”Damn straight.” Isamu replied in midst of typing.

Cortez eyed the boy as he worked at the keyboard. Despite his inability to open the box, he typed with a finesse Cortez usually saw in artists or musicians rather than programmers. This was rather perplexing, especially since this was still a child, though he had a hunch at what Isamu was. “You're a Coordinator I presume.”

”Yep, fresh out of Orb.” Isamu said, not even looking over to reply to Cortez, “K-N-O-C-K-E-R-S… *enter*” BEEEEP!

“Ah dammit!” Edward said as he and the rest grabbed the ears again. Damned Phase Shift armor, we could've opened this thing a long time ago if it didn't have that shit!

”What, you guys still haven't opened it yet?” came a new comer. Everyone seemed to groan collectively to see it was Thomas. “Just how many pirates does it take to open a box?” he muttered snidely.

”As many as it takes to screw you into a light socket Thomas.” Edward shot back. He didn't like the man that just came up, as did many of the other mercs/pirates, but he put up with him on Friedrich's orders.

”Don't be so mean to our friend Thomas, Eddie.” Vale chimed, “After all, aces like us need below average pilots like him to make us look good. They rarily to survive getting knocked around like that.” As if to add insult to injury, Vale pressed the rim of his new pair of reflective shades over his face so that the covered his eyes.

Thomas Kurtz scowled at Vale, to which Vale smirked because they reflected off his glasses back at Thomas. “I'm not through with you yet, Hunter.” Thomas threatened.

Vale replied to that by mock-shivering, “You're frightening me Thomas, I think I may piss myself…”

Thomas ignored him and turned to Isamu, “And what was that last code anyway? Knockers? Aren't you a little young for that kind of stuff, runt?”

”I saw it from a movie once.” Isamu admitted. He didn't feel like insulting Thomas right now.

”I can vouch for that, it's one of my favorite movies.” said Jane Harrelson, who had been leaning against the leg of her Forbidden Blue this whole time, minding her own business. In fact, she had been filing her nails between the different `beeping' sessions. “What's the matter Thomas? Did you finally grow some…”

”Not now. Isamu might have found something.” Friedrich ordered, trying to watch Isamu work. After saying that, all three Gray Wolf members walked over and crowded around the young programmer, adding onto Vale, Friedrich, Lyn and Cortez. “What's the problem Isamu?”

”Don't know, Captain. I'm entering in all the right codes, but this computer was designed to respond to a genetic pattern that I don't have.” Isamu said.

Genetic pattern? Vale thought, looking up at the box. Just by looking at its height, he was starting to phase out, much like he did when he first saw it. He wondered… “Can I try?” Vale asked.

Isamu looked up at Vale as though he had grown two heads, as did the rest of the group. They all knew Vale was better at breaking computers than he was breaking into their systems, mostly because of his way-better-than-average performance with them. However, Isamu saw that Vale wasn't kidding, so he figured why not. “Alright, sure.” Isamu got up and moved to the side, allowing Vale to pass through.

Immediately, Vale started typing away like a pianist at the keys, and though he wasn't nearly as good with programming as Isamu, he still knew enough about machines to get them operating the way he wanted them to. After a long trek of going through menus, submenus and complexions that made programming his Raider's CPU look like a game of minesweeper, he finally got a response from the machine: “Biometrics confirmed, standby for confirmation code.”

The group looked at Vale in awe. “Since when were you a programmer Vale?” Friedrich asked confused.

”I'm not; I just figured it would respond to my DNA a lot easier than Isamu's. No offense.” Vale said.

”None taken.” Isamu replied. He didn't know why Vale thought that, but he didn't feel like asking since it worked, “Now what?”

Vale scrolled down through the menu, “What comes forth…?”

”Ah not again!” Edward groaned, “Just let me try it again with the Schwert Gewehr…”

”No.” Friedrich replied.

”But Captain, we've been at this part before…” Ed tried.

”Ed, he's right. This is too delicate to just hack open with an anti-ship sword.” Jane said, “Just let Vale work…”

”Alright, alright.” Edward said, looking over the screen again and shuttering. God I hate computers, how the hell did Rena put up with them?

”What comes forth from the Second Seal… What comes…” Vale thought, then remembering something. “Anybody read Revelations?”

”Revelations? As in what Johnny Smith keeps seeing?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Edward shook his head. “That's the `Dead Zone' you idiot. Revelations is a book in the Bible.” he stated.

”Hey! I'm trying to figure this out too!” Thomas snarled.

”Please don't hurt yourself trying.” Isamu rolled his eyes.

”What was that, runt!?” Thomas growled, looking as though he were going breath fire.

”All of you, shut up!” Lyn commanded, her voice overlapping even Thomas' anger. She looked back to the screen. She thought for a moment, “Now that you mention it, there was a passage that was about breaking seals to reveal the Four Horseman of the apocalypse.”

”So which Horseman was the second?” Cortez wondered.

”Let's see, there's a white horse, a red horse, a black horse and a pale horse…” Vale said, thinking, “I think the second seal contained the red horse, but each one brought something with it to destroy the Earth with…”

”Okay, so what does the red one represent? I think the white one was peace, just to get everyone to see the distant thunder…” Isamu said.

”This is outrageous, to think I survived two wars just to stand here playing guessing games…” Thomas shook his head.

”Nobody asked for your help Thomas.” Jane said.

However, Vale's head bolted up in realization, “That's it! War always follows peace. You're not so worthless after all, for the dorf dummkopf that is…” The red-haired pilot gave Vale the finger for that comment (even though he didn't know German), but he ignored it and looked over the screen. “A red horse, and its rider was `War'!”

Immediately, the control screen turned off and the Phase Shift energy disappeared off the box. Then the moment everyone had awaited arrived: it opened, almost in slow motion and in dead silence, as if matching everyone's silent awe, revealing something no one present would have ever expected coming. The sides split down the center long-ways, folding to the side and down, opening the top and revealing the contents. When it finally ended and revealed the hidden treasure within in full view, everyone in the harbor turned to look, and all collectively gaped. “What the hell?” Friedrich Cunningham started.

However, none of their collective awes could match Vale's look. To him, it wasn't merely some treasure, it was a ghost. It was a mobile suit alright, but not your typical mobile suit. It had a sleek, rounded design to it, with rounded legs and arms, a medium-large build torso and shoulder pauldrons that contained a beam saber each. Its head was shaped like a samurai helmet, with the trademark human faceplate and V-fin that made this type of mobile suit recognizable, plus a sensor fin that jutted up from the helmet that distinguished this mobile suit from others of its kind. Vale dared to walk into the box and see what its back module looked like, and he saw that this model had wings and tail binder, meaning it was designed for flight. He also so that for weapons, it had a beam rifle on a rear holster, a shield mounted on the left arm and a pair of nacelles on its back that obviously mounted energy cannons of some kind.

As he walked around back to the front, he saw an indentation on the v-fin centerpiece. He could see indentation just barely with his eagle-like vision, but with what little he could read he filled in the rest. The indentation read `X23K TRES', which in tradition with this unit, probably referred to its serial number. The EAF, Orb and even ZAFT used these things for testing and demonstrating new technologies in warfare, and because of that, they were usually well more advanced than regular designs. And although Vale had no idea what this unit was capable of, he knew that its name was enough to assure him of its power. “Gundam.”

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TO BE CONTINUED…