Disclaimer: This is the first BGC military crossover fic I've written, but I think It'll make sense once your deeper in. The original characters of the anime ova/full tv series/manga are property of ADV and its subsiding companies. I in no way claim their characters as my own. I'm looking for a lawsuit, but even if I was, I don't even have enough money to buy the next season of friends. GOOD LUCK ON THAT ONE! Anyway... Nobody sue me kay?
This is a preview for a series I'm doing on 2041 and the aftermath. Arkane Petra is a british woman, currently a sergent in the Marine Corps. Rijuan Zelaya is also a sergent, but in the US Army. They met after doing an exercise back in 2038 and have somehow kept in touch ever since. The city of tokyo has since been ravaged by war (rogue boomers left by the galatea plague virus, and general hooligans wanting to stir it up and gain control over resources so as to gain higher control) and a few units have been sent in to keep the peace. The two's convoy were making their way through a decrepit part of the city when they ran head long into a boomer/gang war.
Everything seemed to be happening in a blurry sludge around her, the fog of war taking an immediate hold on her senses. Slowly, as her vision and hearing began to return she set about collecting her self. Low muffles transitioned to loud phwumps of pressure, and then to even louder pops and cracks of gunfire. Realizing that she was still in the humvee that was currently on fire, she kicked open her door and rolled out, her rifle poised at the ready. The green hardsuit was already out there, kneeling on the drivers side doing what looked to be c.p.r. to help Bishop, the driver. Looking at the twisted metal hulk in front of them it was amazing that she had been spared any injury. Zelaya was the next to come tumbling out, the door cracking Arkane in the side of the helmet.
"Jesus christ! wanna give me a heads up next time?" She shouted.
"SET UP FOR WHAT!?" He all but screamed. There was a small trickle of blood running from his ears, the blast had been worse then she thought.
"IM SORRY ARK, BUT I THINK THAT ROUND HIT A LITTLE CLOSE TO HOME, YOUR GONNA HAVE TO TALK LOUDER!" He shouted again.
"Oh god..." She said to herself, looking from him and back to green again. It shook its head. The driver was dead. Cueing her radio she steeled herself for the events ahead.
"Uniform two one this is lateral six five, under heavy fire, one confirmed dead and possibly more casualties. Are unable to asess situation, request heavy rounds down range, do you copy?" The situation was desperate. Rounds from overhead were ripping through the troops on the ground, their fire indescriminate and deadly. There was nothing to do but put artillery directly above their heads
"Roger that six five standing by for coordinates."
"I'm firing a tracking becon into the building adjacent, when you get the signal from the beacon, blow it to hell!" Without waiting for a go ahead she loaded a becon into the m203 launcher on her weapon and fired it through the third story. The building was right next to them, which meant that, apart from being a potential life saving exercise, it was also slightly insane. The last thing they'd need is to dig them selves out of rubble while they were being attacked.
"I'm reading the becon now Lateral six five, keep your heads down this'll be a big one!"
"Roger that!"
Petra swore as she tried relaying the message through the command net. It was jammed with chatter already being relayed from the thirty four other troops in the convoy. Mouthing the words for "stay here" in an exagerated fashion so Zelaya, the deaf Marine, could understand she ran out into the street. Flailing her arms then making the sign for "incoming" she prayed that she wouldn't be shot dead on the spot. Running back and pressing herself against the humvee and into a much confused Zelaya she prayed that they wouldn't get pounded with their salvation.
"WHAT THE HELLS GOING ON? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU RUN OUT INTO THE STREET FOR, WHO THE HELL'S SHOOTING AT US, WHERE THE FU,"
"OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND CLOSE YOUR EYES YOU IDIOT!" She shouted at him. Balling her hands into fists she set them in front of her face and blew them out mimicing an explosion.
"OH SHIT! YOUR SERIOUS?" He looked frantically around at his buddies; they were crouched in positions along their vehicles mimicing what they saw Petra doing. "YOU SERIOUSLY DIDN'T DO IT DID YOU?"
Petra knodded again and mouthed "broken arrow," the informal code word for calling an airstrike on one's own position.
"JESUS! YOUR CRAZY YOU KNOW THAT!?" He yelled as he ducked down.
"Hey Green," She yelled to the hardsuited figure. It looked up at her, the visor reflecting like a mirror, "you might as well get down as well, I'm not sure how well your armor would stand up to a piece of flying shrapnel." It stood still for a moment, nodded then crouched down low against the tire.
The familiar screeching woosh of the sound barrier breaking only gave them a seconds notice, the three one-hundred-twenty millimeter rounds impacted the face of the building with enough ferocity to rip most of the steel supports on the fourth floor in half. The building itself, only a five story apartment building came down on itself, but not before the entire fifth floor began toppling over. Glancing upward, Arkane prayed to whatever god was willing to listen to her. Then almost as fast as the shells hit the building it went black.
*********que cheap dream blurbness*********
"Ark talk to me babe!"
Someone was shouting... Who?
"Meh *cough*"
"Thank god, keep your eyes open for me alright? I got a medivac en route."
Who, who is that? Wait I know that voice; Juan? What's this pain in my *cough*
"It hurts, god it hurts! Rijuan are you there?" The world was a blur, sounds were garbled and everything hurt to high heaven.
"I'm here Ark, I'm here, I'm not leaving." He reasured her.
"Why can't I see anything?" She moaned.
"'Cauze your eyes are closed you big dummy." She cracked open her eyes to see Zelaya, clutching her right hand and with tears in his eyes.
"Why are you crying?"
"Nothing babe, it's nothing, just stay with me alright?"
"Why does it hurt? Am I hit?" She looked down only to have her head lifted gently.
"You can't look down, you understand?" His voice was unneasy, as if he had just gotten off of a rollercoaster ride.
"Why what's wrong? Why does my hand..." She lifted the blood red bandage up to the light seeping in the room. There was a stump and no hand, no hand...
There was suppose to be a hand there she thought. A hand with five fingers and a slightly worn promise ring. Where was it?
"Ark, Petra! Look at me!" He was shaking her now trying to keep her from going into shock. "Listen to me, I'm gonna have to do something that hurts, maybe alot, to make you stop bleeding alright? The most important thing right now is that you stay awake and with me, got it?" She nodded her head, albeit reluctantly she had a pretty grim idea of what he was going to do, their training, both the Marines and the Army had been staunch about this.
"Do it." She whimpered, a trickle of blood leaving the corner of her mouth. She watched as the corporal took the small barrel fed machine gun and flicked the selector to auto. It took less then a minute to expell the rest of the rounds, but the barrel was glowing red hot. Moving quickly he squatted, one knee on top of Arkane's elbow, the other at the base of the stump. She started whimpering and crying, something that he confessed later had weighed heavy on his conscience.
"On the count of four." He held the super heated barrel to her wrist and waited for a knod. "One... two..." The young young corporal looked away, grimly satisfied that he didn't have to hear the sound of burning flesh over his partner's screaming. She let out a final gasp as the burning steel left the area then fell unconsious, black overcoming her.
*********unque cheap dream blurbness*********
"Hey, wake up!"
"Huh? What?"
"Your not dead are you?"
"The fuckt!?" It was dark, too dark to see or make out anything.
"What the hell happened? where are we?" she asked.
"Got me. As far as I can tell, the building fell on us. You were moaning in your sleep, bad dream?" The sergent broke open a chemlight and shone it on the cab of the truck where it had been crushed. There was about enough room to kneel in the little space but not much else.
"Well, hopefully the blast took out the bloody bastards on top." Ark breathed a sigh. It had been a call of desperation, one that she'd probably live to regret later on, but they both were alive, so apparently something had gone right.
"Hey, where's our metal friend at?" They both looked at eachother, had their guardian been killed by the blast? Zelaya moved the light past the hood of the truck and immediately spotted it flat on its back, its legs pinned by rubble.
"Oh no, its not moving." Petra said distressed.
"Not much we can do for it, we'll have to wait until this rubble's shifted off of us first. Want a smoke?" He offered the englishwoman a ciggerette, which she hesitantly took.
"You know these things, *cough*"
"Will kill me right?" He interupted. "I figure if I live through yet another dissasster then why not. I'm pretty sure we've been here a while, my hearings come back a little and my watch alarm went off for taps about two hours ago."
They both sighed and collapsed back to back. Activating their distress becons they removed their armor, they were going to be there a while. Seargent Arkane Petra took a long drag on her ciggerette and breathed out. "Hey Z,"
"Yeah?"
"Ever think of what you'd be doing if you weren't in this little mess of a place?"
"Well, it depends... Am I still in the Army?"
"No, Your a civilian with long shaggy hair, a goatee, and a weird mustache."
"Long hair? Hmm, I don't know, maybe become a musician or something. I've been accepted to the berklee skool of music before, why not again?" Even through the pitch black atmosphere she could feel the mental shrug as if he was saying "I'll figure it out when I get there."
"So what about you babe, gonna take that british accent into voice acting or something?"
"Actually, when my end of service date arrives, I think I might just settle down here."
"In this hell hole? Are you serious?"
"No, not here, maybe farther south, maybe around Okinawa where we flew in."
"Whatever you say, crazy." He rolled his eyes and puffed out what he thought was a smoke ring.
"What instrument do you play?"
"Huh?"
"You have to play an instrument to get into berklee right? What do you play?"
"Well you don't need to play an instrument to get in, but it helps. Me personally, I love playing the piano."
"Classical?"
"Nah, too boring. I like the old jazz and blues tunes from almost a century ago, they're so full of life and character. To me those are the classics." Zelaya mimiced an invisible piano, his fingers dancing across its keys.
Taking one last drag she flicked the cigerette away into the rubble. "I see. Think you can you play a few tunes for me when we get back? I know someone who's got a keyboard you can borrow."
"Sure, no problem."
"h.."
"Did you hear that?" The both sat up and perked their ears.
"he... mmph"
"Survivors! Hey some of our guys made it." Zelaya said excited.
"he... mmph!"
"Its coming from over there!" He pointed his light over at the still metal form.
"hel... mmmph!"
"It's coming from the boomer!" they both said.
"You think that might be coming from its comlink?" Petra asked.
"It's possible, but with all the damage its taken I sorely doubt it."
"Might as well check, not like it would hurt anything."
They both crawled over to the boomer, careful not to disturb any of the supporting rubble.
"I wonder if we can take it's faceplate off or something."
"Take it's face off?" Petra added.
"I just wanna see if I can rig up a communicator to see if we can't get out of here a little faster." Feeling around the helmet for a latch he inadvertently popped the seal on the helmet, sending a cloud of vapor outward. Surprised, Rijuan fell back into Arkane and together the two sergents tried to believe the sight before them.
Staring back at the them was the face of a beautiful very annoyed, yet very thankful woman.
YAY FORMAT FIXED! this is chapter 2 in a small little arch of stuff I've got. Let me know what you think, and by all means add on, comment, or just post new fics to keep this mini forum alive!
This is a preview for a series I'm doing on 2041 and the aftermath. Arkane Petra is a british woman, currently a sergent in the Marine Corps. Rijuan Zelaya is also a sergent, but in the US Army. They met after doing an exercise back in 2038 and have somehow kept in touch ever since. The city of tokyo has since been ravaged by war (rogue boomers left by the galatea plague virus, and general hooligans wanting to stir it up and gain control over resources so as to gain higher control) and a few units have been sent in to keep the peace. The two's convoy were making their way through a decrepit part of the city when they ran head long into a boomer/gang war.
Everything seemed to be happening in a blurry sludge around her, the fog of war taking an immediate hold on her senses. Slowly, as her vision and hearing began to return she set about collecting her self. Low muffles transitioned to loud phwumps of pressure, and then to even louder pops and cracks of gunfire. Realizing that she was still in the humvee that was currently on fire, she kicked open her door and rolled out, her rifle poised at the ready. The green hardsuit was already out there, kneeling on the drivers side doing what looked to be c.p.r. to help Bishop, the driver. Looking at the twisted metal hulk in front of them it was amazing that she had been spared any injury. Zelaya was the next to come tumbling out, the door cracking Arkane in the side of the helmet.
"Jesus christ! wanna give me a heads up next time?" She shouted.
"SET UP FOR WHAT!?" He all but screamed. There was a small trickle of blood running from his ears, the blast had been worse then she thought.
"IM SORRY ARK, BUT I THINK THAT ROUND HIT A LITTLE CLOSE TO HOME, YOUR GONNA HAVE TO TALK LOUDER!" He shouted again.
"Oh god..." She said to herself, looking from him and back to green again. It shook its head. The driver was dead. Cueing her radio she steeled herself for the events ahead.
"Uniform two one this is lateral six five, under heavy fire, one confirmed dead and possibly more casualties. Are unable to asess situation, request heavy rounds down range, do you copy?" The situation was desperate. Rounds from overhead were ripping through the troops on the ground, their fire indescriminate and deadly. There was nothing to do but put artillery directly above their heads
"Roger that six five standing by for coordinates."
"I'm firing a tracking becon into the building adjacent, when you get the signal from the beacon, blow it to hell!" Without waiting for a go ahead she loaded a becon into the m203 launcher on her weapon and fired it through the third story. The building was right next to them, which meant that, apart from being a potential life saving exercise, it was also slightly insane. The last thing they'd need is to dig them selves out of rubble while they were being attacked.
"I'm reading the becon now Lateral six five, keep your heads down this'll be a big one!"
"Roger that!"
Petra swore as she tried relaying the message through the command net. It was jammed with chatter already being relayed from the thirty four other troops in the convoy. Mouthing the words for "stay here" in an exagerated fashion so Zelaya, the deaf Marine, could understand she ran out into the street. Flailing her arms then making the sign for "incoming" she prayed that she wouldn't be shot dead on the spot. Running back and pressing herself against the humvee and into a much confused Zelaya she prayed that they wouldn't get pounded with their salvation.
"WHAT THE HELLS GOING ON? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU RUN OUT INTO THE STREET FOR, WHO THE HELL'S SHOOTING AT US, WHERE THE FU,"
"OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND CLOSE YOUR EYES YOU IDIOT!" She shouted at him. Balling her hands into fists she set them in front of her face and blew them out mimicing an explosion.
"OH SHIT! YOUR SERIOUS?" He looked frantically around at his buddies; they were crouched in positions along their vehicles mimicing what they saw Petra doing. "YOU SERIOUSLY DIDN'T DO IT DID YOU?"
Petra knodded again and mouthed "broken arrow," the informal code word for calling an airstrike on one's own position.
"JESUS! YOUR CRAZY YOU KNOW THAT!?" He yelled as he ducked down.
"Hey Green," She yelled to the hardsuited figure. It looked up at her, the visor reflecting like a mirror, "you might as well get down as well, I'm not sure how well your armor would stand up to a piece of flying shrapnel." It stood still for a moment, nodded then crouched down low against the tire.
The familiar screeching woosh of the sound barrier breaking only gave them a seconds notice, the three one-hundred-twenty millimeter rounds impacted the face of the building with enough ferocity to rip most of the steel supports on the fourth floor in half. The building itself, only a five story apartment building came down on itself, but not before the entire fifth floor began toppling over. Glancing upward, Arkane prayed to whatever god was willing to listen to her. Then almost as fast as the shells hit the building it went black.
*********que cheap dream blurbness*********
"Ark talk to me babe!"
Someone was shouting... Who?
"Meh *cough*"
"Thank god, keep your eyes open for me alright? I got a medivac en route."
Who, who is that? Wait I know that voice; Juan? What's this pain in my *cough*
"It hurts, god it hurts! Rijuan are you there?" The world was a blur, sounds were garbled and everything hurt to high heaven.
"I'm here Ark, I'm here, I'm not leaving." He reasured her.
"Why can't I see anything?" She moaned.
"'Cauze your eyes are closed you big dummy." She cracked open her eyes to see Zelaya, clutching her right hand and with tears in his eyes.
"Why are you crying?"
"Nothing babe, it's nothing, just stay with me alright?"
"Why does it hurt? Am I hit?" She looked down only to have her head lifted gently.
"You can't look down, you understand?" His voice was unneasy, as if he had just gotten off of a rollercoaster ride.
"Why what's wrong? Why does my hand..." She lifted the blood red bandage up to the light seeping in the room. There was a stump and no hand, no hand...
There was suppose to be a hand there she thought. A hand with five fingers and a slightly worn promise ring. Where was it?
"Ark, Petra! Look at me!" He was shaking her now trying to keep her from going into shock. "Listen to me, I'm gonna have to do something that hurts, maybe alot, to make you stop bleeding alright? The most important thing right now is that you stay awake and with me, got it?" She nodded her head, albeit reluctantly she had a pretty grim idea of what he was going to do, their training, both the Marines and the Army had been staunch about this.
"Do it." She whimpered, a trickle of blood leaving the corner of her mouth. She watched as the corporal took the small barrel fed machine gun and flicked the selector to auto. It took less then a minute to expell the rest of the rounds, but the barrel was glowing red hot. Moving quickly he squatted, one knee on top of Arkane's elbow, the other at the base of the stump. She started whimpering and crying, something that he confessed later had weighed heavy on his conscience.
"On the count of four." He held the super heated barrel to her wrist and waited for a knod. "One... two..." The young young corporal looked away, grimly satisfied that he didn't have to hear the sound of burning flesh over his partner's screaming. She let out a final gasp as the burning steel left the area then fell unconsious, black overcoming her.
*********unque cheap dream blurbness*********
"Hey, wake up!"
"Huh? What?"
"Your not dead are you?"
"The fuckt!?" It was dark, too dark to see or make out anything.
"What the hell happened? where are we?" she asked.
"Got me. As far as I can tell, the building fell on us. You were moaning in your sleep, bad dream?" The sergent broke open a chemlight and shone it on the cab of the truck where it had been crushed. There was about enough room to kneel in the little space but not much else.
"Well, hopefully the blast took out the bloody bastards on top." Ark breathed a sigh. It had been a call of desperation, one that she'd probably live to regret later on, but they both were alive, so apparently something had gone right.
"Hey, where's our metal friend at?" They both looked at eachother, had their guardian been killed by the blast? Zelaya moved the light past the hood of the truck and immediately spotted it flat on its back, its legs pinned by rubble.
"Oh no, its not moving." Petra said distressed.
"Not much we can do for it, we'll have to wait until this rubble's shifted off of us first. Want a smoke?" He offered the englishwoman a ciggerette, which she hesitantly took.
"You know these things, *cough*"
"Will kill me right?" He interupted. "I figure if I live through yet another dissasster then why not. I'm pretty sure we've been here a while, my hearings come back a little and my watch alarm went off for taps about two hours ago."
They both sighed and collapsed back to back. Activating their distress becons they removed their armor, they were going to be there a while. Seargent Arkane Petra took a long drag on her ciggerette and breathed out. "Hey Z,"
"Yeah?"
"Ever think of what you'd be doing if you weren't in this little mess of a place?"
"Well, it depends... Am I still in the Army?"
"No, Your a civilian with long shaggy hair, a goatee, and a weird mustache."
"Long hair? Hmm, I don't know, maybe become a musician or something. I've been accepted to the berklee skool of music before, why not again?" Even through the pitch black atmosphere she could feel the mental shrug as if he was saying "I'll figure it out when I get there."
"So what about you babe, gonna take that british accent into voice acting or something?"
"Actually, when my end of service date arrives, I think I might just settle down here."
"In this hell hole? Are you serious?"
"No, not here, maybe farther south, maybe around Okinawa where we flew in."
"Whatever you say, crazy." He rolled his eyes and puffed out what he thought was a smoke ring.
"What instrument do you play?"
"Huh?"
"You have to play an instrument to get into berklee right? What do you play?"
"Well you don't need to play an instrument to get in, but it helps. Me personally, I love playing the piano."
"Classical?"
"Nah, too boring. I like the old jazz and blues tunes from almost a century ago, they're so full of life and character. To me those are the classics." Zelaya mimiced an invisible piano, his fingers dancing across its keys.
Taking one last drag she flicked the cigerette away into the rubble. "I see. Think you can you play a few tunes for me when we get back? I know someone who's got a keyboard you can borrow."
"Sure, no problem."
"h.."
"Did you hear that?" The both sat up and perked their ears.
"he... mmph"
"Survivors! Hey some of our guys made it." Zelaya said excited.
"he... mmph!"
"Its coming from over there!" He pointed his light over at the still metal form.
"hel... mmmph!"
"It's coming from the boomer!" they both said.
"You think that might be coming from its comlink?" Petra asked.
"It's possible, but with all the damage its taken I sorely doubt it."
"Might as well check, not like it would hurt anything."
They both crawled over to the boomer, careful not to disturb any of the supporting rubble.
"I wonder if we can take it's faceplate off or something."
"Take it's face off?" Petra added.
"I just wanna see if I can rig up a communicator to see if we can't get out of here a little faster." Feeling around the helmet for a latch he inadvertently popped the seal on the helmet, sending a cloud of vapor outward. Surprised, Rijuan fell back into Arkane and together the two sergents tried to believe the sight before them.
Staring back at the them was the face of a beautiful very annoyed, yet very thankful woman.
YAY FORMAT FIXED! this is chapter 2 in a small little arch of stuff I've got. Let me know what you think, and by all means add on, comment, or just post new fics to keep this mini forum alive!