Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Under the Five Moons ❯ Gemini ( Chapter 15 )

I don't own Trigun or any of its characters. I only own my original characters, who are starting to outnumber the cannon characters at this point. Doesn't this bother anyone?

Oh, and by the way, a Heatwave is the type of gun Dominique uses, just so ya know.

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"It went well?"

"As well as could be expected. Lorand is in the basement with the teraformer now."

"And the vampires?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"The Flock."

"They were there?"

"Indeed."

"Doesn't this bother you, Martinez? Your entire species is dead."

"Not at all. The race of vampires died a long time ago. What bothers me is that Father Danil knew we were going to be there."

"Yes, he knew about Jenora Rock and the teraformer as well."

"I think we can safely assume that he knows our plan."

"He would have figured it out eventually. Danil is by far the most intelligent human I have ever seen. But you're right, how did he know where and when we would strike?"

"Could he be bugging us?"

"Doubtful, we planned Jenora outside the ship. I think it much more likely that we may have a mole in our midst."

"Hmmm. . . I would suggest a mind scan, but Danil would have surely thought of that."

"He's found a way to block me. I could feel everyone else at New Transylvania, but his mind was a blank space. If he does have a mole here, they've been fitted with the same technology, or at least a modified version of it."

"Where are the rest of the Gung-Ho Guns?"

"Lorand is working with the teraformer. Johnny we sent to retrieve the other one before the Flock could reach it, the rest we sent out to prepare for the. . .reeducation."

"Ah yes, that. How many of them know the truth of it?"

"None, Master. None at all."

"Oh really? Why did you do that?"

"Because it's so much more fun that way."

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The door to the Neo New Orleans Big and Tall store burst open and a young woman marched in, dragging a tall man behind her by his tie. She threw him up against the wall and started sifting through a rack of shirts.

"Why are we here again?" Jeremiah asked.

"Because I said so," Calamity answered. She picked out several shirts and tossed them to Jeremiah. "Here, try these on."

"Why?"

"Again, because I said so." Calamity pushed him into the fitting room, then grabbed a pair of pants and threw them over the door. "And while you're at it, try these on."

A black cat flew over the door towards her. She dodged and the cat landed beside her. It nyaoed angrily and ran out of the store.

"How do you know my pants size?"

"I checked your stuff while you were sleeping," Calamity replied.

"Do make a habit of going through people's things while they're not looking?"

Calamity chuckled. "Yes, actually. You did see my name on the poster by the sheriff's office, didn't you?"

Jeremiah opened the door and held out a shirt on a hanger. "This one's a large, I'm an extra extra large."

Calamity reached out for the shirt. A spark flashed briefly between her fingers and the metal hanger. Jeremiah yelped and dropped the hanger.

Calamity clicked her tongue and reached down for the dropped shirt. "Sorry about that, it happens sometimes."

"What the hell was that?" Jeremiah asked.

"That's what saved your ass back in Jenora. If I hadn't made that energy field you'd be nothing but a pile of carbon at this point."

"What, you're a living dynamo?"

Calamity shrugged and leaned against the wall next to the fitting room door. "I guess you could put it that way. A lot of the tools I use are just for show. Like the detonators, I don't even keep any batteries in them." She pulled one out and started flipping into the air.

"And how, exactly, are you able to d this?" Jeremiah asked.

"I dunno, I've just kind of always been able to do it. I try not to think about it too much."

"And your brother?"

". . . My brother?" Calamity asked darkly.

"Yeah, the guy with the poncho and the scar. He called you 'little sister'."

"It works differently for him. His abilities are more, magnetic. Can do amazing things with metal. Form knives from nothing but scrap."

"Knives?"

"Yeah, he has a thing for blades."

"How ironic."

"What?"

"Never mind," Jeremiah responded, stepping out of the fitting room. He had traded the dark blue suit for a pair of black pants and a black shirt.

"Did your days with the Flock affect you that much?" Calamity asked, moving over to a rack of over-shirts.

Jeremiah inspected his outfit. "What are you talking about?"

Calamity raised an eyebrow, then went back to picking out shirts. "Well, if we're going for a theme. . . you should definitely try this one on." She grabbed a white long sleeved button up collared shirt with a red cross embroidered on the back and tossed it to Jeremiah.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

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Calamity yawned as she left the store. Never having to buy batteries saved a lot of money, but buying components for plastic explosives was always a pain. Especially when you had to deal with curious storeowners.

"All done Jeremiah. . . Jeremiah?" she turned to the bench where she had left him, but it was empty now.

Calamity took a few deep breaths and glanced around the streets. [Okay, he probably just decided to stretch his legs. Look around a bit and he'll be there. How hard can it be to find a guy whose six foot ten and carrying a giant cross?]

She walked out into the main street and peered around, looking for the brown hair sticking above the crowd, or maybe the cloth top of the cross. She saw bankers, lawyers, and bartenders. She passed by families, lovers, bachelors, but she saw no wanna-be priests. Not a single one.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She screamed and reflexively sent a small shock through her body.

"Ow! Geeze Calamity, it's just me. Damn, that hurt!" Jeremiah stood behind her, Cross Punisher strapped to his back, with a pear in one hand and the other in his mouth. "I learn about this ability just this morning and your already unloading on me! Jeez!"

"S- s- sorry," Calamity stuttered.

"What's up with you? You're not usually so easily startled."

"Er. . . It's that time of the month," Calamity said.

Jeremiah bit into his pear. "No it's not," he said, "I grew up with three women, I've learned to tell when a woman is PMSing."

Sparks jumped between Calamity's fingers as she dug into one of her pockets. "Jeremiah, it's just PMS. Drop it."

"You sure?"

"Drop. It. Now."

Jeremiah raised his eyebrows. "Dropping it," he said. He bit into the pear and turned around. "Hurry up, the steamer'll leave without us."

[See Calamity? You're just being paranoid. He wouldn't leave you. He's. . . he's not that kind of guy.] A poster on the sheriff's office caught her eye. She had seen better pictures of herself. Her hand shot out and ripped the poster off.

Jeremiah pushed his way through the crowd, Calamity slipping through in his wake. "Damn, damn, damn!" he muttered. "We're gonna be late!"

"That's one sand steamer you won't be catching, Jeremiah T. Wolfwood."

A man stepped in front Jeremiah and regarded him with differently colored eyes, one light red, one a deep azure blue. He pulled his fringed vest to the side to reveal a Heatwave in his shoulder holster. He looked up and smiled.

Jeremiah stopped. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Another man stepped out behind Calamity. He was almost completely identical to the first man, except his fringed vest was yellow instead of black, and his red and blue eyes were the mirror images of his twins. "No, it's not. But we didn't just bring out guns to the party. Like your girlfriend there, we are men. . ."

". . . But not of men, as a samurai used to say," the first man continued. "We are demons."

"Why don't you understand, Calamity? We were designed to be weapons. Even those. . ."

". . .Idiots at the Flock understand. Do you see Joseph whining about his abilities? Embrace what you are!"

Calamity turned to face the twin and backed up towards Jeremiah. "Humans aren't weapons to be used. We have our own will! We aren't guns or knives or swords!"

The twin chuckled. "Deny it all you want, Calamity Shriver, the machines in your blood know the truth. We are the Gung-Ho Guns Polster. . ."

". . .And Callox, the Gemini. Knives sends his regards." A man stepped out from behind each twin, identical to the first. Then another, then another. Dozens of copies sprang out from behind the twins and sprang out into the crowd.

"TIMES UP!"

"JERMIAH AND CALAMITY!"

"Calamity? Calamity Shriver?!"

"Who, who are all these people?"

"I dunno, but if they're with that lunatic Calamity Shriver, I'm out of here!"

The panicked crowd streamed out of the street, around, behind, and in some cases, through the multiple clones.

Jeremiah flipped a snap and the cloth covering went flying. He grabbed the skull grip on his Cross Punisher and hefted the cumbersome gun under his shoulder. "Great, we're fighting an army." He said.

Calamity smirked. "Hardly. Those things aren't really clones, they're illusions. The people ran right through 'em."

"Not all of us are illusions," Callox said, raising his Heatwave.

BLAM!

Jeremiah moved his Cross Punisher and blocked the bullet from hitting Calamity. His eyes slowly started glowing red. "Damn, the illusions give off heat as well."

"I'm thinking we should split up. We'll only have to worry about one real gun that way."

"Good idea. On the count of three."

"THREE!"

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Jeremiah rounded a corner and ducked into an alley. He reached down and flipped a switch on the sidearm of his Cross Punisher. He listened to familiar CLUNCH of the regular ammo being loaded into the chambers and tried to catch his breath.

"Well this an interesting change. You certainly weren't that well dressed back at Jenora."

Two clones stepped into the alleyway, one on each side, brandishing their Heatwaves. Jeremiah threw himself to the ground and shot at both of them, but the bullets flew through their shoulders with no effect.

"Reminiscent of Legato, almost. White over black, I mean. Who dressed you?"

"Who says I didn't dress myself?"

Dozens of Polster copies ran through the alley. "Because you have no dress sense," they said.

Jeremiah dashed through the illusionary copies and crashed through a window into a bar. The patrons all stared at him quizzically. "GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!"

This outburst earned him blank stars from the patrons. Jeremiah grunted, pointed the Cross Punisher at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The patrons and the bartender raced out under a hail of gunfire. Jeremiah quickly ducked behind the bar and flipped a few switches. The gun CLUNCHED as the normal ammunition was replaced with armor piercing ammo.

"How gallant of you, to get all the people out of the way. No point to it really, we're after you, not after them. Now, where are you?"

Jeremiah flipped on his infrared vision. Dozens of heat signatures waited on the other side of the bar. [It'll only wound him. He'll live, I hope.]

He carefully brought his cross around so it was facing the front of the bar. It was a tight fit, but for whatever reason the space behind the bar was particularly wide. [Let's see. . . that one looks as likely as any.] He aimed at what looked like the shoulder region and pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

He switched to another form and pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Again, he switched to another form and fired. Again, again, and again, he fired at a vague shape on the other side of the bar.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"Damn, it's a good thing I wasn't down there." Polster said

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Calamity dashed down the street, looking for a place to fight. Somewhere out of the way, somewhere were there wouldn't be many people, somewhere. . . like the well treatment facility.

She barged past the lingering crowd and ducked through the doors. Ignoring the protests of the workers she ran down the hall into the main holding facility. She knew one of the twins would be right behind her, so she didn't have much time to set up.

Among the maze of pipes, one suspended high above the main concrete floor caught her attention. She followed it down to a large water tank. She ran over and opened the valve, letting the water rush through the pipe. She reached into her coat and pulled out a plastic explosive pack. It was small, packed into a rectangular shape. On one side was the detonator receiver; the other had a medium sized magnet attached.

She flipped the bomb magnet side up and flung it towards the water pipe. It hit it with a satisfying click and held fast to the metal. Calamity smiled, flipped out a detonator, and ran off to hide among the pipes. Now, it was a matter of waiting.

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Jeremiah breathed deeply. Was there any other way out of this other then dumb luck? Keep shooting at copies until he got lucky? He'd be dead way before that happened. A Heatwave bullet to the head, and so ends the tale of Jeremiah T. Wolfwood, son of Millie Thompson and some priest he had never met.

[Great].

He shook his Cross Punisher idly and ran through the ammunition types he still had in there. There were a couple of things that could take out a group of people, but not without risk to the lives of innocent bystanders. Or risk to Polster's life when it came to it.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn! What do I do?"

"Well, dying's always an option."

Polster appeared at the end of the alleyway. "It'd be easy, just stand there and let me shoot you."

"Nah, I got to much to live for. Besides, I couldn't live with myself knowing that Danil was still out there, 'cleansing'. Or die with myself, or afterlive with myself. I dunno."

Jeremiah stood up from the wall and pointed his cross at Polster. He pulled the trigger and watched the bullet pass harmlessly through Polster's shoulder. "I didn't really expect that to work."

The clone of Polster smirked. "Good bye," it said. Dozens of Polster copies ran onto the street, surrounding him on all sides. As one, they raised their Heatwaves and pulled the trigger.

Jeremiah threw himself to the side, but not fast enough. A bullet creased his cheek, leaving a long thin cut. He fell hard to the ground and knocked his head on the pavement.

"Lucky, but I don't think you'll be that lucky again."

Jeremiah shook his head and opened his eyes. The knock to the head had shifted his cyber eyes into the ultraviolet range. He glanced around at all the faintly purple shapes staring at him.

"Good, I would hate for you not to see your death coming."

"Hang on a sec," Jeremiah said. His eyes narrowed. "Humans don't give off ultraviolet light." He looked around and found a gap in the line. His eyes switched into the normal spectrum and he raised his cross.

"Ah shit."

BLAM! BLAM!

The Heatwave flew out of Polster's hand and hit the ground. Polster laughed weakly and flinched. The second bullet had hit him in the shoulder.

Jeremiah pushed himself up with his cross. "You're lucky I used the smaller caliber. If I had used the regulars from this, you wouldn't have an arm any longer."

Polster smiled. "I'll thank you for that. Now, if you don't mind, I think my work is done here. Later!" Copies of Polster ran out from here and rushed towards him. Jeremiah threw his arm in front of instinctively as the copies passed through him. When the stampede had finished, the original Gung Ho Gun was gone.

Jeremiah shook his head. If he ever ran into Vash again, he was going to have to make him explain how to fight these freaks. He threw the Cross Punisher over his shoulder and walked off to find Calamity.

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Callox stepped slowly into the main facility. The place was built for practicality, nothing but a concrete floor, pipes, and tanks. A large machine in the corner churned, sucking water up from deep within the planet. "Where are you Clarissa? You know it's not too late, you can come with me. Johnny would welcome you with open arms."

"SCREW YOU!"

Callox moved out into the center of the room, secure in the crowd of himself. "Oh come on, little disaster, the idea can't be that bad. Like I said, we are weapons, meant to be used. Come with me, and find a hand to wield you."

"Weren't you paying attention? I'm not a weapon! And Johnny's not my brother anymore!" Calamity sparked the detonator and hit the button.

BOOM!

The bomb blew apart, blowing the pipe open. Water came cascading down over Callox, who took it surprisingly well.

"Damn it, this is my favorite vest!" He pulled out his Heatwave and surveyed the room. "Where the hell are you?"

Calamity reached out to the flooded floor. She dipped her hand in the water and sent a quick jolt through her arm.

Castor convulsed as the electricity ran through his body and fell to the ground. All of his doubles immediately faded out. Castor laughed into the ground. "God damn, girl! You are a hot one! I thought my genetic modifications were something else, but I can't even come close to those nanomachines!"

He pushed himself up off the ground and checked his watch. "Well, I guess I'm done here. Adios, muchacha." Hundreds of duplicates surged toward Calamity, obscuring her vision. Castor leapt to his feat and ran out of the room.

Calamity sighed and leaned against a pipe. "Well, I didn't blow too much up."

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Calamity found Jeremiah sitting on bench in front of the building. He spotted her and grinned. "It's times like this that I consider starting smoking.

Calamity nodded and sat down beside him. "I know what you mean. Well, now what?"

"Steamer's left already, but don't think staying here's really an option any more."

"Welcome to my world, people chasing you out of towns when something just happens to blow up around you."

Jeremiah chuckled. "Don't forget, I was partially raised by Vash the Stampede."

Calamity shrugged. "So. . . the bus?"

"You got enough money for a quick bribe? Something to keep his mind off your bounty?"

"I got five hundred double dollars on me."

"That'll do."

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Nikki: Can you really have nothing to live for? That would be the saddest thing of all. To be so miserable, so far gone that there is no reason to cling to life. Suicide is one thing, but not really caring whether you live or die is another thing all together. What on earth could drive a person to that point? How lonely would a person have to be, to not have any particular reason to go on? Next chapter: Man of Shadow, Lady of Death.