Tekkadread The Second Stage Disclaimer: After 4 years since I did the last chapter, I hope I can still do at least this part... Vandread, Ranma ½ and Tekkaman Blade all belong to their own creators and I’m only using them to tell a story. Hey, I still got it! < >: Thinking Chapter 13 Part 4 The Calm Before the Final Storm A week before the Radam Invasion... Tensen McFile stood on the ridge that overlooked one of the main cryostasis facilities. Tactically, this would be a prime target for the Radam, and must be defended at all costs. The people who were still in hibernation were considered to be the future for the people of Mejele and Tarak. If the Radam could not capture them to be converted into Tekkamen, then they could just as easily destroy them. As he surveyed the multitudes of men and women that were preparing the ground defenses, Tensen absent-mindedly stroked the collar of his Tarak uniform. Though it had been more than 3 years since he last wore it, Duero’s father still found the military clothes to be stifling and uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally. However, this time his collar sported an extra pin which now denoted his rank as a Colonel. In order to coordinate the planetary defenses, the upper brass had decided to promote him as soon as he was reinstated in the Tarak Military. With the consent of Grand Ma, he was also given command of all female ground forces in order to teach them the essentials of close-combat warfare. The women were more used to long-distance fighting and most had never experienced the savagery of getting up and close with the enemy. This was somewhat ironic, considering that Tensen’s preferred role was as a long-distance sniper. However, due to his background on survival skills and guerilla warfare, he knew about the tactics of ambushing the enemy and using the terrain to his advantage. He had many hidden plasma cannons and land mines scattered about the immediate area of the compound. He had also set up a few booby-traps that were considered primitive by modern standards, but were still quite effective. He also had several regiments of reserve troops and Vanguards; all gearing up for the final clash between humankind and the alien Radam. The same activities were being repeated all over the planet. Though the combined space fleets of the men and women would try their hardest to keep the invaders from touching Tarak soil, Tensen and the rest of the upper brass knew that some would get through. And they would make certain that enemy would pay dearly for landing on their homeworld. However, as the preparations continued for the eventual Radam onslaught, the newly minted-colonel’s thoughts drifted off as he looked toward the sky. Somewhere up in the heavens was a ship called the Nirvana, and on board was his son. “Duero.” Tensen wondered if he would ever see his son... or any future grandchildren once the war ended; either in a human victory, or a total defeat. ---------- In the Nirvana’s Sick Bay... The person in question nodded, as he looked over the readouts on the bio-scanner. The one eye that wasn’t covered by his hair arched its eyebrow in surprise as he took in the data. He then turned toward his patient, who was lying down on an examination table. Beside her were Captain Magno and her second-in-command B.C. As he approached them, Jura sat up from the table and looked upon the physician with an eager expression. She was wearing her female version of Slade’s standard garb. “Well Doctor, what are the results?” Slade’s mother inquired. Tensen’s son nodded as he replied. “The readings are quite similar to what I encountered a year ago when I examined Ezra.” He then addressed the mother-to-be. “In Mejele culture, I heard it was customary to offer my congratulations for this situation. My examination indicates that you have been... er, impregnated with Slade’s seed.” Jura let off a squeal of glee as she placed her hands on her abdomen and rubbed it gently. Magno also smiled as she briefly placed a withered hand on Jura’s still-flat belly before speaking to the doctor. “I wouldn’t have put it in that kind of context.” Duero shrugged his shoulders. “I believe the ancient Earth term was... having a bun in the oven?” “That is a very crude description, but quite accurate.” The ancient pirate captain turned back to Jura who was still happily rubbing her stomach. “After five long centuries, I’m finally going to be a grandmother.” “I’m going to be a Fahma!” Jura declared with pride. “Ooh! What should I name her... or him?” “It’s a bit early for that Jura. After all, you’ve got nine months to decide.” “Actually, she has less time than that to decide on her child’s name.” The Tarak physician pointed out. This statement caught everyone’s attention as Duero explained. “I must admit that I was quite surprised to find the beginnings of an embryo at this early stage. I estimate that Jura and Slade conceived only a week to ten days ago.” The blonde former Dread pilot blushed as she remembered back to all the times she and Slade had made love. In all likelihood, they probably conceived during the night of Slade’s birthday party. After all, they did the wild thing for seven hours straight in his room. Mcfile continued with his explanations. “To see this accelerated rate of fetal development is nothing short of phenomenal. It could be because both parents are Tekkamen and the child might have genetically inherited their highly-efficient physiologies.” “So when do you expect Jura to give birth?” B.C. asked. The healer of the Nirvana glanced back at the bio-scanner for a moment before answering. “If I’m reading these figures correctly... a conservative estimate would be... five to six months.” “I’m going to be a mother in less than half a year?” Jura gasped in delight. “That’s wonderful!” Her expression then took an introspective appearance. “Wait a minute. If you can see my baby now, then does that mean you can see if it’s a boy or a girl?” “Actually, no I can’t. The embryo hasn’t developed enough for me to determine its gender. Unless of course, you want me to take a genetic probe sample...” “No! I want it to be a surprise for Slade and me when the day comes!” “Speaking of my son, you do realize that he has yet to be told that he’s going to be a father, don’t you?” Magno pointed out. Jura became silent at her unofficial mother-in-law’s statement. She then realized that Slade did need to know about their child. She just didn’t know how to tell him that they were going to be parents. At that moment, the pirate captain’s second-in-command brought up another point. “Captain, are you certain that he SHOULD know at this time? You are aware that he is absolutely essential for our final battle against the Radam. News like this might interfere with his judgment or distract him in battle.” The ancient woman nodded at her subordinate’s words. “You raise a good point, B.C. Though my son deserves to know about this development, I will not have this information endanger his safety.” Magno turned back to Duero. “Speaking of which Doctor, you must also know what has to be done.” “Of course, Captain.” Duero nodded as he addressed Jura again. “As of now, I must declare you as unfit for future space combat. I believe this is what is called on Mejele as... maternity leave?” “What?!” The mother-to-be exclaimed. “But I have to take part in the final battle. I am a Tekkaman.” “You are a PREGNANT Tekkaman, carrying my son’s child and my grandchild.” The woman formally known as Nodoka stressed. “I will NOT have you endanger yourself or the baby. We will think of an excuse to keep you on the planet.” Jura was about to argue the point, but Magno’s stern expression kept her silent. Finally she nodded as she looked back down at her stomach. “Oh, and there is one more thing we should discuss.” Magno pointed out as she smiled gently at her unofficial daughter-in-law. “What is it?” The beautiful blonde asked. “As much as I’m very happy to finally becoming a grandmother, I would prefer my grandchild be born in wedlock.” “Wedlock?” “Ah, yes of course, you wouldn’t know. It is a very ancient custom in which a man and woman decide to spend their lives together and raise a family. A ceremony called a ‘wedding’ solidified and vindicated the union, which was called marriage. The man and woman became husband and wife. On Mejele, we would have called them Ohma and Fahma, and on Tarak, they were called the First and Second.” “So you are asking me to...?” “I want you to marry my son.” ---------- Meanwhile in the Vanguard Hanger of the Fireheart... “Try it now!” Willard shouted out as he made an adjustment to an instrument panel. The Quantum Cannon mounted on Old Gun's Vanguard began humming with power as its capacitors were put through its paces. After a minute, the weapon powered down in preparation for the Radam Invasion. The cannon were as ready as it would ever be. The female technician named Siloma sighed and wiped her brow as she addressed the pilot in the mecha’s cockpit. “That about does it, Sergeant. The gun is good to go... for about thirty full-power blasts. Number thirty-one WILL cause the cannon to overheat and go critical.” “Old Gun, are you SURE you want this hardwire modification?” Her male counterpart asked. “We can still try to fix the quantum energy imbalance before...” Jensen’s father shook his head and replied in a gruff tone. “We DON'T have the time! This is our ONLY option! The clock is ticking and the Radam ain’t gonna wait for us to solve this problem.” The Mejele engineer became especially alarmed at this statement. “Like we said before, you'll be going on a suicide mission! At the very least, let me re-install the ejection system! You had me take it out in order to install extra power capacitors to increase the cannon's output.” The old veteran shook his head again. “If you put that ejection system back in, then I'll have LESS than thirty shots before I go ka-boom. We're going to need every last bit of power we can get from the cannon. If I must take that 31st shot, then I'll make sure to take as much of the Radam Fleet to Hell with me as I can. I already knew that this was going to be a one-way trip, so there's no point in keeping a lifejacket if I'm never going to get a chance to use it.” As the Vanguard pilot and engineers argued, standing nearby Aika and Captain Dar watched with concern on their faces. The Fire Heart's First Officer burned to tell her superior about what she had learned from the Master Sergeant. She wanted to desperately tell Jensen that he was ordering his father to a certain death. However, a glance from Old Gun stilled her tongue and reminded her of her promise to keep silent. A few minutes later, Old Gun disembarked from his machine to attend a briefing with the upper brass. As they all watched him depart, the Captain of the Fireheart and his First Officer discussed quietly about the matter. “He’s so determined, and yet so stubborn.” Aika commented. “And that’s what makes him such an effective Vanguard Drill Instructor and Group Leader.” Jensen pointed out. “The Fleet is going to suffer terribly when we lose him. I’m going to miss him... a lot.” “Is this sacrifice really necessary? Isn’t there any other way?” “There isn’t. I’ve already had several hundred battle simulations set up and they all came to the same conclusion. We NEED a Quantum Cannon mounted on a Vanguard and Old Gun’s is the only one that is remotely compatible with it. His Vanguard is a Mark II Class B, while the other pilots had upgraded to the Mark III and IV versions. Apparently, those older circuit boards and Duragonium frame are resilient enough to take the stress and energy output. The other Vanguards are made from lighter alloys and more sensitive circuits. The cannon would have burned out much sooner if mounted on one of them. Old Gun’s mech is the only Mark II left in the fleet. All the others were scrapped a long time ago. Incidentally, that’s one of the reasons why he was nicknamed the Old Gun. He’s refused every offer to switch out to a newer model of Vanguard. He just kept on maintaining and upgrading his Mark II.” “I can understand using Fulson’s Vanguard, but why must we also send the pilot to destruction? Can’t we just remotely pilot the mech?” “Unfortunately, the same reasons why we chose the Master Sergeant’s Vanguard also prevent us from using that option. The Mark II cannot be remotely piloted due to its obsolete circuitry. It’s got to be manually piloted and Old Gun is only one who is certified enough to use it.” “But we’ll be losing an excellent officer, pilot and...” Aika stopped herself before she blurted out that Old Gun was Jensen’s father. She really wanted to tell him, but she again remembered her vow to keep silent about the matter. Jensen could only sigh before speaking again. “Yes, we will be losing an exceptional individual, but that is his duty. I don’t like the idea of ordering him to his death any more than you do, but it is necessary. And if there’s one thing I know about the Master Sergeant, it’s the fact that he always did what was necessary to get the job done. You’ve probably heard those stories about his training regiments, correct?” “I have.” “He doesn’t torture the trainees out of spite or maliciousness. He exposes them to the hardships they might encounter and build them up to overcome them. And now he sees that his mission is necessary for the future of the Human Race. And he’ll perform his duty without question, without complaint, and without any remorse whatsoever.” “It’s so sad that his duty... will end his life.” “Have you ever read about ancient Earth History?” “A little.” “Do you know of a conflict called World War II?” “Yes, I believe I read about it at the Mejele Military Academy. We only skimmed over certain details about that war. Why?” “In the final years of that war, a country called Japan was on the losing side; and in order to stop the enemy from invading their homeland, they resorted to a very desperate measure. They began forming fighter groups made of mostly new recruits with one sole purpose. They would INTENTIONALLY crash their fighters against the enemy ships, with the hope of sinking or crippling them.” “They were suicide pilots?! What kind of madness would even think of using such a tactic?!” “It was pretty much out of desperation and surprisingly, there were thousands of volunteers. Even the upper brass saw the tactic as defeatist and fatalistic. However, that didn’t stop the recruits from willingly sacrificing their lives in the hope that their actions would save them from defeat. And they did it out of duty and honor, though in that case, it wasn’t enough to keep Japan from losing the war. And their very name was ironic and I see that same title with Old Gun now.” “What were they called?” “Kamikaze. It meant Divine Wind, but I think a more appropriate term would be... Final Wind. Old Gun will take his last breath during this battle.” ---------- Meanwhile... “Saber! Report!” The Tekkaman half-brother of Slade knelt before his lord before replying. “The Tekkaman Power Process on the few surviving prisoners is nearly complete. However, given the weak physiologies of these subjects, I doubt that they will last very long. These Mejele women have relied too much on their technology and their bodies are not sturdy enough to endure the power output that being a Tekkaman provides.” “You forget that three Mejele women DID become Tekkamen.” Darkon pointed out. “And they were quite successful.” “They were the exception to the rule. Also bear in mind that they were pirates and living OUTSIDE of the soft and easy way of life on their home planet. Furthermore, I believe that being in close contact with my accursed half-brother Slade, and those Tekkadread transformations may have adapted them for the final phase to becoming full Tekkamen.” The Radam Warlord shrugged as he continued. “In any case, these unstable Tekkamen should provide us with enough power to overwhelm and subjugate Tarak. Then we shall have ample human resources among the male population to further expand our armies and conquer the cosmos. As with the traitor Razor, it has been proven that Tarak men are prime Tekkaman candidates.” “And what will become of these?” Saber inquired as he gesture to a row of Tekkapods, where several Mejele women were being painfully converted. “They are little better than brute force weapons, which we shall use to batter through Tarak's defenses. They will burn out soon afterwards, but by then it will not matter. For now, once the process is complete, we shall place them in stasis until the assault. Saber, I shall leave your half-brother's final destruction to you.” Saber nodded as he was eagerly anticipating the next time he would confront Nodoka’s first son. “Like my half-sibling, I too have achieved the Penultimate State of the Tekkaman Warrior. We are truly one and the same, and the universe has no need for the both of us. I alone, shall lay claim to that title as I shall GRIND my brother into cosmic dust!” Outside the main Command Ship, which was more than two miles long, the Radam Fleet was mustering all of its resources for one final assault on Tarak. Ever since his forces were defeated at K-97, Darkon had decided to just bludgeon his way past the human defenses. There would be no intricate strategies or maneuvers. He was going to just smash his way through the center of humankind. He would either subjugate the men and women or annihilate them. ---------- On the Nirvana, five days before the invasion... Slade quietly sat on a bench in the Garden Area of the pirate vessel and was alone with his own thoughts. This was one of those rare moments during the frantic push to prepare the coming Radam Onslaught, that allowed the Tekkaman to contemplate on the events that had led up to this final confrontation. To his surprise, his mother had informed him that Jura would be held back in reserve, to aid Tekkaman Phantom in the planetary defenses. That meant that Slade would only have Meia, Dita, and Tekkadread Blade, (aka Tekkaman Razor and Barnette), to assist him in the assault against the enemy. Though he couldn’t argue with the strategy, he got the feeling that Jura was avoiding him for some reason. For one thing, they hadn’t made love in the last two days. Though Jura had assured him that nothing was wrong with their relationship, Slade got the impression that she wasn’t telling him something. Not that he was lonely for company as Meia and Dita were more than eager to take up the slack in the bedroom. It was ironic in a way. For more than a year, he had been repressing those feelings toward those girls, and now the females were determined to make up for lost time. His body shivered a bit as he remembered the three-way ‘mattress rumble’ they had last night. “Penny for your thoughts?” The White Tekkaman had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even sense the approach of the Nirvana’s chief medical officer and surgeon. He gave him a nod and gestured for him to sit down. He warmly smiled as he spoke to him. “Penny for your thoughts, eh? It’s been a long time since I heard that expression... by about five hundred years, give or take a decade. By the way, where did you hear it?” The Tarak physician shrugged as he replied. “I’ve been looking over old Earth expressions during my studies of human history, and I thought that saying was appropriate.” “Is that all my thoughts are worth, a penny?” “Well, if we were to apply a penny’s value at a continual rate of interest, then it would be worth in today’s currency at about...” “Never mind Doc, it was a rhetorical question. So how are things on your end?” “If you are speaking about the battle preparations, they are going quite well actually. Thanks to the Mejele Medical Corps, we have more enough staff and equipment to handle a very large number of patients... and Command is predicting many, MANY casualties.” “Well, we can’t expect to fight war without casualties. Hopefully, we’ll be able to inflict more casualties on the Radam.” “That is my wish as well. And my greatest desire is to survive this war, though it is not because of self-preservation.” “Oh? So what is it?” Duero McFile let off a quiet sigh before responding. “This is a very... personal matter, and I would prefer if you do not mention this to anyone.” “Hey you know me, Doc. I’m not a snitch. We’ve all been through A LOT together and you can trust me. So what’s eating you?” “Nothing is eating me... why are you...?” The physician then nodded in comprehension. “Ah yes, that’s another one of those Ancient Earth sayings. Well, in answer to your inquiry, the reason why I hope to survive this war is because...” “Because...?” ‘It’s because... I have formed an emotionally-fulfilling attachment... er, I mean attachments... with some... individuals of the opposite gender... and I intend to... file for dual... er, I mean triple-occupancy. And if it is my destiny, I foresee... offspring... a very considerable number of them.” Slade gazed upon the good doctor for a very long time, before giving him a grin. “You know, that’s GOT to be one of the most roundabout ways for a man to say, ‘I’ve fallen in love with two women, I intend to marry both of them and have a really BIG family.’ Congratulations Doc! So when do you intend to pop the question to Barnette and Parfeit?” “Pop? I’ve never known a question to pop...?” “It’s just an expression Doc. What I’m asking you is when do you intend to ask Barnette and Parfeit to become your life-mates?” “Ah, I see. Well, I’m not all too certain how to do so. I’ve been reading up on ancient mating rituals on how a man asks a female to become his Second... er, I mean partner in procreation...” “The correct term is wife.” “If you say so. Now, from what I was able to discern, the man supposedly got down on one knee, and presented the female with a circle of metallic element with the Atomic Number of 79, topped with a piece of meta-stable allotrope of carbon...” “Look, Doc...” Slade interrupted. “...if you’re trying to say that a man proposes to a woman with a diamond ring, then you’re on the right track. But you’re proposing to TWO women at the same time, so what you’ve read about ancient marriage customs, doesn’t really fit in this scenario. We’re talking about some uncharted waters here, especially since not too long ago, the genders were at each others’ throats. This will be one really BIG MILESTONE between Tarak and Mejele.” “Indeed. Although my situation pales in comparison with yours, with THREE women in love with you.” Duero mentally added. “Touché Doc. I guess we’re both going to have to wing it.” “Wing? I don’t...” “Forget it Doc.” ---------- In the Nirvana’s Engineering Section... “This is the SEVENTH time I have to do a complete rebuild of your outer chassis.” Parfeit complained as she applied a small plasma cutter to Pyro’s metallic skin. The little robot was sitting on a workbench. “Are you TRYING to get scrapped?!” “Not fair! (bzzt) Not fair! (bzzt) Not Pyoro’s fault! Is Pyoro’s baby so Pyoro should get to name it!” Currently the machine was sporting several dings and dents all over its body and the front viewscreen had a large crack running across it. Every now and then, the screen would glitch, and display a blurry image of the robot’s eyes. The most noticeable damage was near the top of its head. Five gouges in the shape of fingers had been dug deep into the alloy. An inch or two further and Pyro’s CPU would have been damaged beyond repair. “I thought we already made this clear. Ezra’s baby is named Nodoka, NOT Pyro 2. You had NOTHING to do with her creation. Ezra and her Ohma have already told me that the next time you try to barge into their home; they’ll put you through SIX trash compactors! Do you WANT to end up as a tiny ball of junk?” “Pyoro not talking about Pyro 2. Pyoro wanted to give name to Pyro 3.” “Huh?! Who’s Pyoro 3?” The droid’s face screen lit up as he showed Parfet his most recent encounter with a certain trio of female Tekkamen... ---------- Flashback to the Nirvana’s cafeteria... “Are you serious?!” Dita exclaimed. She, Jura and Meia were sitting in a private booth in the corner. “Well, I suppose that would be a valid reason to be removed from the front lines.” Meia concurred after Jura explained the reason why she would not be participating in the final battle against the Radam. “Ooh, I am SOOOO jealous!” The red-haired girl said. “I can’t believe that you’re going to have his baby. I wanna be pregnant!” “Keep this information under wraps all right? I still haven’t told Slade and the Captain doesn’t want him to know until after the war is over. I haven’t told my Fahma or Ohma either.” The voluptuous Former Dread Pilot advised. “I suppose that makes sense, since we don’t want him to lose his focus during the battle.” The once Dread Leader concurred, though she was also secretly envious that her compatriot was carrying Slade’s first child. Meia began making plans to becoming a mother as well, as soon as the Radam War was over. “So have you decided on what to name the baby?” Dita inquired. “I’ve had some ideas if the baby’s a girl, though I don’t know of any good names for a boy, other than Ranma or Slade.” Jura admitted. “Don’t use the name Ranma. You know that Slade hates that one.” Meia suggested. “The name will be Pyoro 3!” All three Tekkamen glared at the Navi robot as it made its appearance and snuggled up beside Jura’s still-flat belly. However, the blonde would have none of its nonsense as she reached out with her right hand and clamped down on the top of its head. Despite its outer casing being made of a high-strength metal alloy, Jura’s Tekkaman strength allowed her to crush it as easily, as if she were crumpling an old newspaper. The front viewscreen cracked under pressure as she brought up Pyoro so its eyes were in direct contact with hers. She then addressed it with a low, throaty snarl. “Listen here, you little junkpile! I don’t know HOW you found out about my baby...” “It’s Pyro’s... !” CRACK! The robot’s protest was cut off as Jura applied more pressure. Realizing that it was less than a heartbeat away from the scrapyard, Pyro wisely fell silent as the future mother spoke again. “As I was saying, I don’t know HOW you found out about my baby. Yes, I said MY BABY. It never was and NEVER WILL BE your baby. You had absolutely NOTHING to do with its creation and therefore, you have NO RIGHT WHATSOEVER with naming it. If you think I’m going to let you do the same idiocy that Ezra had to suffer through, think again. Come anywhere NEAR me or my child, and I will tear you into pieces so small, that the repair crew will need an electron-scanner to find them all. Now get lost!” After giving that warning, Jura stood up and PUNTED Pyoro down an adjacent hallway, causing it to ricochet off the walls a dozen times. It skidded another fifty yards before finally coming to screeching halt. After a long minute, it finally managed to get its anti-gravity propulsion working and limped toward the repair ward. ---------- End of Flashback... “Whoa! You hacked into the Medical Files?! Jura is pregnant?!” Parfeit exclaimed in astonishment. “And I would prefer that you keep that information to yourself.” The engineer turned to see Captain Magno, aka Nodoka standing at the doorway. ---------- Meanwhile... Aika Shan let off a long sigh as she gazed upon the document on her desk. In her right hand, she absently twirled a small, pen-like device about her index finger. For the last four hours, she had been pondering the significance of the sheet of paper. She had been listing all the pros and cons. So far, the positives outweighed the negatives, much to her surprise. This was not just an important decision, but it was paramount to heresy according to the Mejele way of living. Once the document was filed, there would be no turning back. The die would be cast and she would have to deal with the consequences of this decision for the rest of her life. However, the more she thought about it, the more she became certain that she had made the correct choice. She was also certain that one person in particular would agree with her whole-heartedly. And even if all the former citizens of Mejele voiced out their objections and revulsions over her chosen path, Aika would not change her mind... ever! And she found herself feeling... happy with this outcome. At that moment, her intercom beeped. In response, she reached over and pressed the answering switch. “Commander Shan here.” “Commander? This is the Captain. You are needed in Tactical.” “I will be there in five minutes. I just have to finish up some paperwork.” “Acknowledged. Captain Dar out.” After turning off her intercom, Aika took the stamp device in her hand and affixed her official seal next to her signature on the document. She then placed her thumb next to seal. The electronically-enhanced paper recognized the triple-authentication and began finalizing the contract. In less than ten seconds, the contents of the document were transmitted to the Main Tarak Archives, thereby making the agreement official. The other copy of the document would automatically revise itself to coincide with the new arrangement, as well as notify the other party. The silver-blonde woman nodded as she stood up and left her quarters. The document on her desk would automatically file itself away 30 seconds after she was gone. On the bottom read the following... This application for Double-Occupancy is hereby approved for First Class Citizen Jensen Dar of Tarak and Mejele Citizen Aika Shan. Beside Aika’s signature, seal and thumbprint was Jensen’s authentication, who had signed just a few hours ago. The Captain was designated as the Prime, while the Commander had become the Second. Aika had just married her commanding officer. ---------- The Repair Ward... “C-Captain! W-What are you doing here?” Parfeit exclaimed. The centuries-old woman held up a hand and glared at the troublesome machine that had revealed a closely-guarded and personal secret. “Jura informed me that a certain Navi machine started blabbing about things that are NOT its concern.” Magno reached into her robes and took out a small device that resembled a garage-door opener. Pyoro immediately recognized it and started to protest. “W-Wait! You can’t do this!” Click! The moment Magno pressed the button, Pyoro instantly powered down and went into stasis mode. Its arms and legs retracted into its body, and its face screen went black. It was now just an egg-shaped doorstop. “You better PRAY that I decide to re-activate you after the war is over.” Slade’s mother then addressed Parfeit with a smile that promised immense punishment if she disobeyed. “You didn’t hear a thing did you?” The engineer shook her head frantically as she immediately got the hint. She quickly placed Pyoro into a storage bin. “Nope! Don’t have a CLUE as to what he was saying! Probably just a glitch!” Magno’s smile became a bit more pronounced. “Right... just a glitch.” ---------- Several hours later, in the Tactical Ops Room of the Fireheart... “And this concludes our final strategy session. Are there any questions?” Jensen announced as he looked about the conference table. He then addressed one of the alliance fleet commanders as she raised her hand. “Yes Vice-Admiral?” Vice-Admiral Caytona Vills had short, brown hair with gray streaks and was of medium height. She was around 58 years old and had a very distinguished career with the Mejele Outer Boundary Fleet. She would be leading the 7th and 8th divisions of the united defense forces. “What’s the current position and ETA of the Radam Invasion forces?” Jensen nodded as he activated a holographic projector at the center of the conference table. A circular display of the surrounding systems appeared above the gathered officers. “Right now, our long-range sensor satellites picked up the remaining Radam motherships on a direct course toward the outer boundaries. At their current rate of speed, they will be entering the Tarak system in just under 48 hours.” “That doesn’t give us much time to spare. The seventh and eighth divisions have only just finished their Quantum Cannon refits. We’ll have to move out in the next 6 hours just to reach the interception point in time.” “I agree.” Admiral Vence Ackern commented. He was a stocky man with a thick beard and an old veteran nearing retirement age. He commanded the 27th Space Navy Vanguard Wing. “That’s too close a deadline. I’ve already given the order for the twenty-seventh to move out and join the eighty-first and fifty-second wings to point gamma-six. They’re going to have to go full ion-burn for five hours if we want to have the option of outflanking the Radam’s main body. So what’s the status on the first and second advance fleets?” Jensen nodded as he used a beam pointer to indicate a position on the tactical map. “They’ve already arrived at their primary positions and will be the first ones to make contact with the enemy.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Even though we are hopeful that they could stop the invasion at that point, we... know many will get through due to the sheer force of numbers of their Spider-Crabs...” “... and their Tekkamen, right?” “Yes sir. So far, we have accounted for Tekkaman Saber, Rapier, and Axe. Unfortunately, we have reason to believe... there may have more.” “More?” Caytona exclaimed. Jensen nodded again. “Unfortunately, that is possible. While going over the military and civilian records of Mejele, there are substantial numbers of Dread pilots and crewmembers missing in action during the time of the planet’s evacuation. It stands to reason that some of them could have been turned into Radam Tekkamen.” The mood of the conference took on a more subdued tone as the possibility of facing more than just Saber, Axe and Sword, put everyone on edge. Sitting nearby, Aika could only gaze upon her superior officer, and husband with a concerned expression. She had thought about telling him that she had signed the acceptance for Double Occupancy after the meeting, but decided to hold back for a later time. If there was a later time. ----------------- In the Brawler Brigade’s launch bay... Sergeant Sosike Tamar stared at the piece of paper in his hands as he sat in his office. Normally he’d be bragging about the contents of the paper to his fellow Vanguard pilots. After all, he had been given Old Gun’s secret recipe for Torpedo Juice. However, he knew exactly why Hikar Fulson decided to give his most precious secret to his second-in-command. Old Gun knew he was going to die in the final battle with the Radam. Death was not uncommon among the Vanguard squadrons and every unit had its own unique way of dealing with the loss of its members. The Headhunters would always pay tribute to their fallen comrades with an archaic Norse battle hymn. The Hell Raisers would always start a brawl in the cafeteria. The Bloody Bastards would drink a vile concoction mixed with a single drop of blood from each of the surviving members. The Grim Reapers would use a rusty scythe to notch a wall in their hanger. As for the Brawler Brigade, they were a little more refined. Each member would have a special item that they would give to their squadron, should they fall in battle. For the Old Gun, it was his closely-guarded Torpedo Juice recipe. Sosike had always known that the Old Gun would not be around forever. He had been hearing rumors that the upper brass was planning to retire the old wardog when the war with the Radam ended. The fact that Hikar was giving his recipe to his second BEFORE that final battle meant that he didn’t expect to come back to be decommissioned. The Old Gun was the heart and soul of the Brawler Brigade and the sergeant knew that he could never fill Fulson’s shoes entirely. The only thing he could do was pay tribute to the man who was like a father to him and the other Brawlers. So he turned in his seat toward a small liquor bar under his desk, and began taking out several bottles of different liquors and alcohols. He then started reading the recipe. The young man took out a tiny bottle of black liquor and carefully measured out two teaspoons, before adding the other ingredients to a glass that was normally used to serve Tarak bourbon; another drink that had high alcohol content. He slowly emptied the contents into a mixing container, closed it up and shook it several times before pouring it back into the glass. Like magic, the mixture took on a light lavender color and began to fizz. He picked it up and took a sniff at the edge of the glass. He then shrugged his shoulders and downed the whole thing in a single swallow. Then the alcohol and the ‘special ingredient’ hit him like a meteor. Sosike passed out instantly and fell like a sack of bricks onto the floor. He would later be brought back to consciousness by Gin in the medical ward.