Starlit Ruins

by Simon Woodington

  How hard could it be to find a power armour? The streets of New Camelot only made him aware of how minute the likelihood really was. The whole place reeked of Dryads, Nexus Knights, Millennium Druids and other anarchists. He paused before a shop that appeared to have no distinction in any quality but its name.

  'Randy's Rarities' blared in bright green letters above an otherwise ordinary shop door. Grinning at the absolute corniness of the name, he wandered in. The name was apt, he decided: Each item a rarity more bizarre and alien than the last, and nothing was labelled. As with many of New Camelot's street side shops, this was more or less a magic paradise, if you could afford it.

  Looking at the back end of the shop, he searched for an owner. Who would leave such a place unattended?

  As if on cue, a hefty looking tall black and gold haired man strode up to the smallish counter. The man leaned forward on the wooden surface with both open palms down.

  "Welcome to Randy's Rarities, my friend," he smiled toothily. "What manner of search brings you here?"

  "Power Armour," Fade answered, eyes narrowed. "You have any of those?"

  "Perhaps. Tell me; have you a name? If you don't mind my asking."

  "Go ahead. It's Fade," he replied in a measured tone. Can’t be too eager, he thought, so he waited half a breath and then asked, "What about magic?"

  "Depends on the coin," the fellow replied easily. He idly wandered over to a shelf beside the counter and inspected the items upon it.

  "How about Cloud of Smoke?"

  The man turned to him with a serious look. "That's not much of a spell."

  "The coin lacks polish," Fade said nonchalantly.

  "No coin is unwelcome, friend. Is that your interest?" He stepped over to another shelf and fingered through a number of papers messily arranged.

  "Part of it," Fade said, approaching the counter.

  The man turned to him and handed him a small scroll. "Study this, and lend me your coin so I might decide how much polish it requires."

  "Half now," the elf said conditionally, "and the other half when I've learned the thing." He handed the taller fellow a pouch that filled a hand, no more.

  He pointed and smiled widely, "Use the back room there. If you have any troubles, I'll call my lady in to assist you."

  With a smirk, the elf took the scroll. "Do you really think I'll have 'troubles' with this?"

  "You never know," he said with a smirk as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

  Roughly five hours later, the elf emerged from the back room, holding a rolled up scroll, and looking like he had just walked through a flaming forest. Glancing about, he could find no trace of the fellow who had given him the scroll. In a chair, however, was a very attractive human woman, who looked to be in her late twenties. She wore a long black cloak, light blue shirt, and a long loose dark blue skirt. She looked at Fade, and smiled, running a hand through her blue hair. After a moment, unbelieving, Fade noticed the silver streaks in it.

  "Hi," she said. "Done with the spell, I see."

  Fade merely nodded.

  "Well then," she started, as if expecting something.

  "I guess I'll see you about, eh?"

  "You like your head on your shoulders?" she threatened casually. When the elf turned back to her, she was still smiling.

  "Little use for magic without it," he chuckled, handing her the pouch and the scroll.

  "I should take the scroll," she told him, then paused, “but it is part of the service."

  "Is it? Written in your hand? I like them," he half-smiled, accepting the worn looking handmade scroll. He walked over to a Power Armour he had not noticed before.

  "My hands? How flattering," she drawled.

  Silence mingled with his study of the simple looking exoskeleton. The head of it was shaped much like a simple mask, and lacked any real decoration, besides that of a thin bandanna wrapped around the head. The remainder, as plain in styling, barring the exception of silvery jewels embedded in lower arms. He noticed also the oddly empty sword scabbard.

  "Is this supposed to be… I suppose it is," Fade stated, knowing he was being listened to. "Where's Randy?"

  "He went… out." Fade heard the sound of her getting out of the chair. "Interested?" She came up beside him quietly.

  "Possibly."

  "It's a seller's market, my friend," she advised him, and followed it with a smirk.

  "Tell me about it. Would you?"

  She threw him a look. "A magic user like you would love it. The power source is the pilot. If you've the mana for it… that is. Still interested?"

  "Well," Fade muttered, "Perhaps… I am regarded as a hard worker…"

  "And so broadly skilled, now. We will s—"

  "Katrin!" a male voice called weakly.

  The woman blanched. "My Gods," she murmured as she ran out of the side door opposite of the back room. Fade followed her, curiosity abreast. The man Fade had described as "Randy" stumbled away from a hovercraft, a blond haired young woman in his arms.

  "Are you hurt?" Katrin asked, taking the girl into her arms.

  "I'll live," he replied, looking as though he was in pain. "Go, lie her down. I'll be along with a kit."

  “She's breathing… what a mess…”

  Without hesitation, she left. A few moments later, a man roughly five feet tall ambled into through the door. He cast a glance at Fade, who appeared somewhat bemused. The man muttered something under his breath, grunted a brief "hello" to Fade, then followed the woman. With an arched eyebrow, Randy passed by him, holding his stomach, and headed into the adjacent room, the one in which the elf had learned the spell.

  What? That room was so small. Why would he go in… Fade thought.

  "Come come," Randy said, "if you're that curious, join me."

  So he did. The room he walked into was a veritable warehouse of miscellaneous armour, weapons, and other items. Many of which exuded such an intense aura he puzzled about failing to detect it before. Fade immediately recognized scraps of Coalition equipment: SAMAS rail guns, pieces of a disassembled SAMAS armour, Dead Boy body armour, stacks and piles of CE and standard E-clips, among a multitude of other things. The rest was unfamiliar to him.

  "I don't suppose you've got a Glitter Boy armour in this mess somewhere?" he asked, not seeming at all daunted by the collection.

  "Not anymore; we’ve exhausted our needs for those," the man replied, sitting forward in a small chair, drinking something. "Parts and refits, repairs and custom builds. That's all."

  "That's it?" Fade grinned as he picked up a helmet that looked like a black skull. "Then what is that armour your woman showed me?"

  "A shot in the dark, I'm afraid. Armor wrecks havoc on… mana control," the man commented, taking another sip of his drink. “It's your life if you want it. Might give a magic user a chance against the Coalition, if he wants it.”

  “He might want it,” he remarked, wondering at the fellow's cool demeanour and endless supply of information. "It have a cool name?”

  “Cool name?” He squinted through the wall as if he could see the armour through it. “Let me, ah, the SC-A101. Eh, Mana Breeze, if you like. Paltry name with no battlefield presence.”

  Fade shrugged. “ 'Glitter Boy' is a questionable moniker, but just try shouting over its cannon. Nice piece of work. Yours?"

  "Me? I just sell them," he grinned. "So you have a lot, then?"

  “A lot? Oh, mana. If all I have to do is risk my neck, I have enough,” he answered firmly.

  Randy shrugged. “We've got trackers in the suit, so there’s nothing to sign. It's yours, but now you'll be following orders. Understood?”

  “Yes. By the Great Tree, that was easy.”

  “Grand. Follow me," he gestured, standing. Fade followed Randy back through the shop and into the room Katrin had entered.

  "How is she?"

  Her blond hair was matted with the crimson stains of blood, and her face bore the healing putty-like substance of a MediKit. Fade noted wit
h some interest that there was uncouth man seated concertedly beside her, eyes on as a lover, or father. As the elf watched, the man looked up at him, and the worry on his face changed to a self-protective scowl. "Gotsdamn Randy, what's this? Strangers in ‘ere?"

  "Nice to meet you, too," he commented, dry ire running in his voice.

  The fellow shifted uncomfortably, "Oh, yeh. Guess it's no thing. Name's Garen. You?"

  “Fade,” he replied, arching an eyebrow. "She a friend?"

  "Somethin' like it. Client.”

  "Ah."

  "Look Garen, she'll be fine, but she's not going anywhere until tomorrow at the earliest," the blue haired woman stated.

  Randy sighed heavily. "Anything else?"

  "You might want to explain to Fade what this is about," she said with hands on hips. "If you're serious about this 'test pilot' stint."

  "That's probably a good idea," he laughed, kissing her on the cheek. He turned to Fade. "C'mon you."

  "Just a sec," she interrupted. "Don't forget Garen."

  “Don't f'get me? Like I'm not every thing she needs?” She set him with a look and he chuckled submissively. “Ah, yeh right. Maybe then we's rush up some grub! I ain't had anythin' since dis creep," he gestured towards Randy, "showed up!"

  Later they sat in the main part of the shop, the door shut and a sign reading "Closed, Try Back Again" hung upon it. Fade took occasional sips from the drink he had been offered. Garen was very deeply involved in an apple pie Randy had unearthed from a storage freezer in the back.

  "She's in pretty rough shape," Fade commented. "Whose handiwork was that?"

  "You're no stranger to the Coalition," Randy started.

  "Nor is she… recent encounter?"

  "Juicers don’t usually don the mask."

  "Well, recently, believe it or not, after their uprising, the Coalition adopted some of the leftovers to beef up their armies. Better than standard troops and pretty cheap to make. A heckuva lot cheaper than a Grinning Demon. Power without the Price. Also considered to be pretty expendable."

  "And if they go AWOL?" Randy asked, sounding interested.

  Fade pointed to his head and said, "Little MDC bomb here."

  "So what's the difference between them and other Juicers?"

  "They’re better fed."

  Randy eyed him knowingly, “That’s one way to put it."

  "So wha'?" Garen snapped, irritated. "What this all got t' do with my sistah?"

  "Your other sister?" Randy asked with an air of suspicion.

  "All 'em girls, Usagi's friends are my sistahs."

  "Listen Garen, I agreed to let her meet Mamoru, nothing more. I wasn't thinking she'd scoot off and start window shopping. It's just not safe, even for someone as strong as she is."

  Garen scratched the back of his head. "So you gonna argue wit'er nex' time? Go to it!" He swore heavily. "Gots damn I did mah best! How ya figure some Snatcher'd be here? Never happens!"

  "I’ve got to give you that," Randy nodded. "Perhaps I'll have Carl check her for tracers when he repairs the damage they've done."

  "Tracers?" Fade blinked. "She marked or something?"

  "The CS has a long memory where dimensional trespassers are concerned."

  "Corruption is everywhere," Fade sighed, propping his head on his hands. "So, this have something to do with my first outing in that suit?"

  "If you still want the armour, that is," he said, leaving the entire matter open.

  Fade glanced at the floor and smirked at the irony of his greed. Then he looked up and said, "At what point is living not dangerous?”

  A few days later Mina was hale and hearty, voicing her frustration and annoyance in the presence of Randy, Fade and Garen. The former's pleasant smile disappeared. "You could call this janitorial, Mina. Straying from the path left quite the mess.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It means staying on plan. You're meeting him in Texas just to get them out. No visitations, no random encounters.”

  Mina snorted. “Have you met this place, you know, where we live?”

  “I’m asking you to minimize problems. Carl is your CO. Let him make the big decisions."

  She cursed. “I hate it.”

  Randy caught her eyes and held them. He said, “You don’t hate everything.”

  “No, you’re right.”

  “Well, that got emotional fast,” Fade remarked. “Why don’t we channel our hate at the Coalition together?”

  “Okay, I can do that… who…” Anim regarded the elf, and stated sarcastically, “And another magic user is going to make our rescue easier?”

  “Job's a job. If he can make a magic user effective in powered armor, I think they worked out how to sneak us into Lone Star and back out.”

  Randy shook his head. “That's the least of your worries. Are you committed?”

  “Why are we still here?” she bit off.

  “Grand. Come with me.”

  @~%~~~

  The arranged transport was a CS Death's Head Armoured Personnel Carrier. The man made behemoth towered over twenty feet high, and sixty feet long. The impressive alloy hide of the beast was shaped like a rather stubby twentieth century rocket. From its slender arrowhead aileron to foreboding skull flat nose. A marvel and a melodramatic curse. Anim did not seem at all surprised by this. Fade, on the other hand, had to wonder.

  "Where can I get one?"

  Randy replied a sly smile. "Don't think it was easy stealing one of these buggers."

  "A risk not to be taken lightly," Fade agreed. Randy nodded gravely. Anim had already climbed into the huge craft, and was busy inspecting the pilot's compartment. Fade stepped into the open hatch in the side, stopped, and turned about to regard Randy. “Thanks.”

  “Thank me later if you… well, we’ll see.”

  “Indeed,” he answered, then disappeared into the ship. Randy watched as the ship lifted into the air under the power of the harrier-style jets, and flew off into the distance. Shaking his head, Randy returned to his shop.

  "I don't suppose now is a good time to tell me about your 'senshi' friends?" Fade asked from the co-pilot's seat.

  "Now is probably the best time," she half frowned thoughtfully. "It would help me to know what Randy's told you."

  "Tell me? I get you’re tough, a good healer, but Randy’s not exactly exhaustive if you get me."

  Mina cleared her throat. She thought, Swell, thanks Randy. "Well, back were I came from, an evil force attacked our world. Not much different than here, really, except that it was just a localized force. Luna, a cat, sought defenders and found us."

  The elf blinked. "Was the cat black by any chance? I suppose it talked too? I understand that happens a lot in human culture."

  "Um, yes and no," she looked at him, somewhat surprised. "Are you sure you didn't siphon it from his thoughts?"

  "Moi? That was a guess."

  "Who are you kidding, fella?" she frowned, pretending to focus on flying. "Aren’t you telepathic?"

  "You can fly this crate, does that mean you can captain a ship?"

  "What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, I suppose.” Fade found that he lacked a response that would not draw her ire, so he said nothing. They flew in silence for a time, neither really expecting much from the other.

  "I guess… I haven’t been very nice. That’s not a parade float," she said and thumbed his empty but impressive power armour.

  "It’s a risk I want to take," he agreed slowly. "Allow me to apologize? My pointed ears are pricked."

  She consented with a flicked glance at him. "Hm… Well, that cat selected us… well, five young girls to protect our city. The leader of our group, 'Sailor Moon' was…"

  "That's you, I suppose?"

  She shook her head. "No, actually. That was Usagi."

  "I see. Your friend?"

  "Yes," she confirmed with a flat lipped expression.

  "Okay. So who was invading earth, and what was stopping them from succeeding
? Besides the five of you, I mean."

  "Resource troubles. The Negaforce didn’t have access to the leylines that we have here."

  Fade had to agree, so he did in a blithe manner: "You managed to hold them off on your own?"

  "More or less," she admitted. "If I knew then what I know now, we'd have beat them already."

  "You mean you haven't defeated them?"

  "It’s not that simple."

  "Is it ever?"

  She chuckled something sardonic, but kept the thought to herself. “No, but even when you win you don’t get a break. We sacrificed everything… something else turned it all around on us."

  "A change in leadership," he noted observantly. “Mercy can be perilous.”

  “Mercy?” She hadn’t heard that word in a while. “I guess… we did, we were, merciful.”

  Silence manifested drifted in a very solid, tangible form between them. Fade gave it some thought, and came to the conclusion that there was no reason for her to lie to him. If she was acting, indeed, she was performing expertly, even to the point of guiding her very feelings without the slightest miscue. He glanced at her, and noted that she was wiping the right side of her still flesh tear laden face as she stared on through the HUD piloting window. Guilt roared through him. He'd been insensitive, and further, a jerk to a young woman who only wanted what anyone wanted: Family.

  "Anim? I'm sorry. Really," was all he could think to say. "I've been a jerk to you. I apologize."

  "Okay. Thank you," she whispered. "You're right."

  He blinked at her boldness. Generally one wasn't suppose to agree, but he supposed he deserved it. The fact that she was human did not derail the point of her sex. Women, elven or otherwise, deserved his respect and honour. This one without question, as she was asking nothing more.

  "We'll rescue your friends, whatever it takes," Fade vowed. "I mean it. I hate to see a pretty lady cry."

  "I thought you didn't like the prosthesis?" she smirked at him past dried tears.

  Fade simply looked confounded. How the hell does Randy do it?

  Chapter 24

  Visitation Rights