


Wild Card

by Tau Reinhart



Category: Zoids
Genre: Adventure, Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-02-15
Updated: 2008-10-08
Packaged: 2013-08-26 04:57:34
Rating: T
Chapters: 16
Words: 126,618
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2265173/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/756784/Tau-Reinhart
Summary: Thomas fic. I am not dead yet!





	1. Chapter I

_Hello, I'm Tau Reinhart. I write fiction to vent out or act out my frustrations and angst. I discovered my love for anime just 2 years ago. I'm not a particular fan of Zoids, but started getting into it when I saw more of Thomas Schubaltz's character… and the bashings! From then on, I just had to follow his story through the series, hoping that something good might happen to him along the way. Unfortunately, nothing did. It's just sad that he always got the raw deal. With this fanfic, I hope I've done his character justice. Please forgive my sympathy for Thomas… I'm an underdog too, so I kinda understand what he had gone through. It just sickens me how characters like Thomas come into being in anime series for the sole purpose of being the whipping boy. Anyway, here's the first chapter of my fanfic. Please review._

_Sorry yaoi fans… no yaoi inside._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Zoids or its characters._

_Other favorite anime underdogs:  
Uzumaki Naruto of Naruto  
Kouya Marino and Jirou Oriza of Crush Gear Turbo  
Ginnosuke Isuzu of Tokyo Underground  
Megane of Gate Keepers  
Kazuma Kuwabara of Yu Yu Hakusho  
Hanamichi Sakuragi of Slam Dunk_

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER I **

The journey begins with the sun rising, bringing onward another pristine day to the now peaceful planet Zi. As the daylight steadily creeps over towering mountains, the rich colors of nature are progressively revealed for everyone to admire. It is truly a magnificent view that evokes notions of a reverberant energy flowing freely from Zi's most luscious greens to the most barren of deserts, interrelating every living thing and every essential element on the sphere.

A dark chapter in Zi's history is finally closed with the destruction of the Death Stinger, and the underground return of the Zoid Eve; indeed, this reality makes this symphony of hues all the more a spectacular sight to see.

At the Red River Base, we notice someone who obviously got up early so as not to miss out on the splendid unfolding of this beauty that is. We recognize that someone to be Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz of the Guardian Force. We spy him walking within base grounds leisurely; his serene expression reflects his enjoyment of this newfound peace. He leans on the balustrade amongst one of the wings of the base, his emerald green eyes staring (though squinting slightly) at the warm and soothing golden sunrise along the horizon. He lets out a sigh of consolation as the amiable rays of sunshine touches his pale yet comely face. Nothing compares to this, he placidly thought.

But soon, this placidity was momentarily upset; all of a sudden, he couldn't help think if this peace will ever last for a long time.

"Who'd be the next sick bastard who'll try to bring the zoid Eve back to the surface? I mean… this peace is just too good to be true. I'm sure there's another Hiltz, whoever the hell he may be, conjuring up another sinister plan to do the same crazy thing over again." he quietly pondered, narrowing his eyes at the notion, causing his stare to become a tad unnerving. But after a while, he realized that he was here to enjoy the daybreak, and not to entertain such ideas.

Lately, Thomas developed the habit of waking up earlier than everyone else to catch the commencement of the break of day, because it offered him some time for himself with his thoughts… that is, before everyone else awakens to ruin the quietude. It helped him contemplate (in a freshened disposition) on the things that have been happening lately in his life. The sunrise has been, for him, a symbol of new beginnings… another chance to make up for whatever his shortcomings were… another opportunity to live his dreams so often put on the back burner by circumstance… and perhaps another chance for him in love (being the hapless romantic that he is). The dawn of a new day has virtually provided him something comparable to his own personal space – a space he would run to whenever he was in need of comfort.

Comfort… something you'd normally get from a place called home. Strangely (and somewhat sadly) for Thomas, he couldn't exactly say the same thing as everyone else would say on the concept of 'home' anymore. Comfort has been running on scarce. Somehow, he kept having this suspicion (outlandish as it may seem) that he'd be so much better off, and perhaps be of much better use, someplace else… not in the Empire, and definitely not in the Republic.

"Perhaps this may have been partly my own fault, my own doing… refusing to be a team player at first," Thomas inaudibly said to himself. "Funny! Somehow I'm starting to see things in Raven's perspective. I guess he's living a sad life, living out there all alone with nowhere to go. At least I still have my frien…" he stopped abruptly. A lengthy pause followed.

"Do I…? Are they really?" his thoughts raced.

He began moving along the covered path he was on. He smiled… then chuckled. "Nah… I'm sure they care about me. Why do I keep thinking otherwise?"

After a while, he stopped walking for no apparent reason. He was now staring at the floor, his face wearing a subtle frown. He began to wonder why these ideas come racing into his head.

Why here? And why now when everything was supposedly going the way it should be? Why now, when he finally accepted the agonizing truth about his eternally unrequited love for Fiona Alyssi Linette, the same truth that made him furiously battle his inner self to finally bring it to a resolution that Fiona would be much better off with Van Fleiheit than with him?

It was like some kind of filter was wedged into his brain, allowing only those sorts of thoughts to pass through and be processed. He wondered whether or not the whole occurrence was trying to tell him something? Was this trying to tell him that he should reevaluate his status in the group he was in?

Initially, he'd quickly dismiss it as silly… merely figments of his imagination that are not worth any attention. But now, after these silly figments had the chance to reverberate...

"_Then again_, d-do they… do they really care about me?" he ruefully asked himself.

Every morning, dating back from the time he decided to have his 'sessions with the sun,' he would start each morning inspirited, and would get through the day composed and contented; with that, he is glad.

But today he is downhearted for he now feels more alone than he has ever been. He has essentially started this day crestfallen because (now that he had the chance to think about it) there may be a lot more other ideas swarming in his subconsciousness… ideas that are absolutely unaccounted for. He is afraid to find out what those abstractions really are, and what meanings tag along with them. What if they surfaced? What if they actually made their way to his conscious sphere? Would they make him think that he was actually cheated out of something? Would such ideas make him admit things he was greatly terrified to admit, which in doing so would shatter the reality he created, perhaps the _only _reality he knew and worked so hard on to keep constant when everything else kept changing (mostly not in his favor)?

The whole time, his feet had remained planted on the same spot where he ended his formerly leisurely walk. His acceptably pale face now became horridly paler; his heart was now racing and beads of cold sweat started to form on his forehead. But amidst this, he still managed to maintain his composure. Though shaken by his energy-draining ordeal, he slowly came back to his senses; he successfully got himself to sit on the floor and rest his back on the adjacent wall without first losing consciousness or falling flat on his face, like he always did in the past.

"My, my… clumsiness has definitely become my trademark," he sarcastically thought.

Still seated and leaning against the wall, he stared blankly toward the horizon for a few minutes. Sensing that he no longer felt dizzy, he quickly helped himself up before anyone came passing by and witness his weak and pathetic moment, among many others.

The picture of Raven's situation, which Thomas previously painted in his mind, came back into focus. All he knew about him back then was that he was the one responsible for totally damaging his DiBison with the charged particle beam, and nearly killing him in the process. Remembering this infuriated Thomas; he couldn't believe he felt sorry for him a while ago for being isolated from the rest of the world.

"Who was… is… Raven, really?" Thomas thought.

He vividly remembers asking Van and the others one time or another about Raven, but every time, without fail, they would all conveniently change the subject, leaving him completely in the dark. He also remembers raising his voice after he had quite enough of Van, Irvine, or Moonbay frequently reducing him to a mere nuisance whenever they would have their briefings.

Thomas: "Damn it! I'm part of this team, too! I should know the character behind this Raven guy. Why don't you just let me know whom we're really up against… since you so want things to go smoothly? Can you at least give me that?"

He would remember them finally giving in afterwards, seeing the anger in his eyes, showing that he really meant business. Sure, Thomas acknowledges to having his numerous flaws, like charging into situations without first completely analyzing them for any eventualities, by not being a team player in the beginning, or sneezing excessively and failing to think straight whenever Fiona was around. He likewise acknowledges the possibility that these flaws would explain the constant belittling and bias he would get from the rest of the group. He became fully aware that for every inadequacy of his on the battlefield, Van would excel on the same thing remarkably. While Thomas was still planning out for a good combat strategy (_without _the help of his trusty Beek), Van would have already finished the mission without getting a single scratch on his Blade Liger. He had to admit, Van has this excellent talent in strategic warfare. He had to admit, too, that it made him jealous. But now (having learned from his mistakes), whenever he would feel this way towards his teammate, instead of acting out his envy, he'd simply do his best to remain civil and mature. He'd make up for it creatively. Afterwards, he would reason with himself that at least he has one thing Van wasn't good at – machinery. This is the single thing that came natural to him. Creating Beek is perhaps his greatest achievement yet. Regrettably, not much importance was given to him about this. At times, no one even cared to notice. And not only that, he was incessantly accused of being too dependent on his machines. He kept telling himself that those were only words, but somehow, these same hurtful words reflexively cheapened all his efforts. It is his talent and his life's work that they're talking about. He was simply bowled over by their blatant indifference.

There is only as much abuse a person can take. Branding him as the weakest link of the group (not to mention subjecting him to the relentless bashing, mocking, and verbal insults that went along with it) was the limit. No wonder he could no longer contain his anger back then.

Now, as far as his knowledge spanned, Thomas knows that Raven was a renegade maverick soldier brainwashed by Günter Prozen in his desire to use him as a pawn for his power-lust scheme. He likewise knows that Raven had encounters with Van in the past. Little does Thomas know that the former had an awful childhood… that his parents were killed by an organoid they were studying… that because of this he hates zoids and organoids to no end.

Realizing that Van and the rest would only feed him that much information, Thomas forced himself to consider this scant amount of data adequate on working level to accomplish the mission of stopping the Geno-breaker and its dreaded charged particle beam. He had to compulsorily reconcile with himself that whatever happened before between Van and Raven that stemmed their personal vendetta was not of utmost importance, as long as they – the Guardian Force – could stop the renegade soldier from destroying everything in its path… and as long as he (Thomas) was careful that this same lack of information wouldn't jeopardize, at a minimum, his own safety.

Thomas doesn't deny that he had always been the people-pleaser and attention-hungry guy in the past. He became aware that this former attitude of his proved to be to his own disadvantage. But despite all that has happened, he has been able to make up for his meagerness somehow. He realized his mistakes in the past, and learned from it. Perhaps it was the drama behind the anticipation of the end of civilization with the rise of the zoid Eve that gave him a rude awakening to realize his selfish way of behaving; since then he showed a lot more concern for others. He at last recognized the 'annoyingness' in his character that others so ungenerously pointed out (tactless as it has been, he was very grateful though that they did it), and was able to overcome it.

Because of this (believe it or not), sometime after Zoid Eve's underground-bound return, Thomas had saved Van's hide countless times during a number of missions, without Van even knowing it. Being both a computer and a mathematical wizard, Thomas has even been able to figure out baffling puzzles they had encountered so often in their other missions… riddles which were actually codes that (when left unbroken) stood in the way between them and the deterrence of worldwide disasters waiting to happen. However, given Thomas' previous history, credit would inadvertently go to Van, being the typecast hero the latter is. Thomas wanted to fuss about it, but he recalled that he vowed to take the high road; besides, he still curiously considers Van his friend, maybe because he has saved his butt, too, many times before. Right now, as far as Thomas was concerned, he was simply returning the favor. He would simply sigh, accept that his unlucky stars are never going to get any luckier, and tell himself, "At least another catastrophe has been prevented."

All in all, by the looks of things, these efforts didn't do much for Thomas in terms of self-vindication. For some freakishly unknown reason, Thomas didn't even take the slightest effort of standing up for himself anymore.

The sun has now risen high above the horizon. Thomas decided it was time to go back to carry out his daily obligations. On the way back inside, he began thinking about the circle of friends that consisted of Van, Fiona, Moonbay, and Irvine. He can just imagine the lengthy and hefty history all four of them share that binds them strongly together. Though he may have become acquainted with them in these past few years, he always felt like being anywhere but inside the said circle.

How so? Thomas would reflect on all the verbal abuse he had to take (and why he was the only one in the group that always received this abuse from his colleagues); he would remember all the times he had been left out, and all the times the whole group would always disagree with his suggestions (and not take them seriously, or even dismiss them as exaggerations) during meetings.

How so? The answer lies somewhere there.

Now that he _actually_ thought about it, his already crestfallen disposition just became worse… like the light has been brusquely sucked out of the morning air. During that moment, time stopped for him; during that very moment, he unknowingly detached his mind from himself and from everything. He then came to an unbiased yet stinging conclusion that _it all comes down to history_… to times gone by… to how everything Van, Fiona, Moonbay and Irvine went through together in the past helped forge the friendships between the four of them.

"Maybe that's how it is and how it has always been: I'm the odd man out," Thomas thought sadly. "I consider them my friends, but I'm not so sure anymore if the feeling is mutual." Their closely-knit circle has been established long ago, long before he came into the picture. Thomas is but a newcomer… an outsider who unexpectedly inserted himself in their lives… a categorical intruder who actually has no right to a place in their group in the long run.

His pace slowed, his eyes again gazing the floor. How he hungered for friendship! He didn't get much of it somehow. Maybe his being snobbish, fussy, and transparent was actually a defense mechanism of his. Perhaps that was a prophylactic to prevent him from getting hurt or from being taken advantage of. After some time in the Guardian Force, he decided to take the risk of letting his guard down (especially with Fiona). However, this proved to be biggest mistake he has ever made. Now that he thought he was making a connection to others, the whole would just blow up in his face, and this would hurt his soul like hell. He initially thought that loosing his 'necessary' arrogance would help, but he was dead wrong.

"I guess I'm... I'm on my own then," Thomas said to himself. He was at the verge of breaking down into tears.

"NO! Damn it, I must NOT cry!" his mind screamed as he fought back the tears. "I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me like this!"

He picked up his pace and hurried to the nearest restroom. As soon as he got in one, he quickly washed his face. Feeling a lot better afterwards, he looked at himself in the mirror. He gazed into his own emerald green eyes and let out a long exasperated sigh.

"Well, buddy, it's down to you and me," he said to himself. "Don't you EVER become my worst enemy, alright?"

He reached for a paper towel to dry his face. He unruffled himself, and exited the restroom... trying to look cool, like nothing at all happened just a while ago. At least in this stance, no one would suspect a thing.

"It seems like there's no one to share _my_ history, except my brother," Thomas' thoughts continued. "But no one, not even Karl, knows my real person. No one even bothers to take the slightest effort of finding out who I really am. I know I'm a nice person… but what they see in me is a weakling and a pushover who gets knocked out all the time. By the looks of it, that's how they'll remember me by: Colonel Karl Lichen Schubaltz's feeble little brother. I try my best to be heroic… to be gallant… but somehow I always end up being ridiculed."

Thomas noticed that he was nearing the main entrance. He had to wipe off the forlorn effect off his face quickly before someone else figures out that something's the matter with him. He brought himself to remember the happy times he had with the group, albeit few they may be.

He sniggered at the memory of Van's organoid Zeek getting disgustingly drunk during festivals and social functions, and how that gave Van a pretty hard time. He also remembered how Fiona would blush furiously whenever someone would want to take her picture, and how she would demurely reason that she's the most un-photogenic female that lived. He couldn't help but smile at these few memories he treasured.

"I think… Maybe I'm judging them too hastily," he said to himself. He let these presently happy memories play on in his head.

Then, with all the merriment in his mind, Thomas unexpectedly thought of the Emperor. He's pretty much aware of Emperor Rudolph being close to Van and the others. They had the honor of saving him from certain death some years ago (prior to Van becoming a member of the Guardian Force himself) thus marking the beginning of their friendship. With this in mind, Thomas didn't wonder why the Emperor would be more casual with Van, like the two have been buddies for a long time... decorum unbecoming of a relationship between subordinate and superior. During special escorting assignments, Thomas couldn't help notice that the Emperor would easily and preferably spend more time talking with Van than with him, even if he himself initiated most of the conversations.

To become friends with Emperor Rudolph is, for Thomas, of the highest privilege, not because of Rudolph being royalty and all. It was because he sees Rudolph as someone who is endowed with the greatest wisdom and purity on Planet Zi despite his young age. As far as Thomas was concerned, he hasn't established the same thing Rudolph has between Van and the others. He is certain about it because notwithstanding how pleasant he makes his disposition, and how leisurely he makes the conversation, a weird awkwardness comes over him whenever Rudolph would give him a cool, emotionless, matter-of-fact look… that, actually, being the _only _look Rudolph would give to Thomas. He doesn't know if this had anything to do with his embarrassing behavior towards the Emperor during his holiday in the countryside... but he's not inclined to think so, because he thinks of Rudolph to be a lot more mature than to hold petty grudges.

Unfortunately, the happy thoughts didn't come back afterwards. Thomas now wanted to take back what he said to himself earlier.

"W-who am I kidding? I don't think anyone will want to get to know me," Thomas said.

He finally arrived at the entrance. Peering from outside, he can see people bit by bit filling the lobby and hallway, going about their business. For these individuals, this day started like any other ordinary routine day. What are important to them right now are their responsibilities and other similar matters at hand. For Thomas, what he thought as a day he had hoped to start out placidly has become a tumultuous day of realization. Far from his awareness, this day would be noted in his memoirs (if ever he had the opportunity to write a few) as a prelude to something revolutionary – good or bad, not even he knows – with its zenith to occur in the near future. Little does he know that all his mind's inner battles are but a preview to the biggest soul-searching he'll ever do in his life.

He stepped inside the main entrance of the Red River Base, wondering now what new challenge will be thrown his way.


	2. Chapter II

_Disclaimer: I don't own Zoids._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER II**

It was during the rise of the zoid Eve when Raven was last spotted. By the time the chaos finally came to its end, he was nowhere to be seen. The whereabouts of Reese, known to many as the Blue Devil, were likewise undetermined to this day.

Lieutenant Thomas Schubaltz understood, though, that Raven eventually came to help Van stop the zoid Eve from unleashing the cataclysm of ending the existence of all the zoids and organoids on Planet Zi… a sign that speaks perhaps of setting aside differences being achievable even with the worst of blood feuds (at least in the face of adversity). With Reese, however, it's a different story for him; if her control over Karl's mind were not released in time, he would have pounded the DiBison into a pulp (killing brother Thomas in it) with his Iron Kong.

At least everyone would agree with Thomas if he were to say that he wasn't too keen on the idea of Reese still being at large. Nevertheless, that doesn't change things much for him now. He had always perceived his becoming a member of the Guardian Force as the best thing that has ever happened to him; everything was a blast since he heard of the affirmation of his application. Alas, at present, he feels like there is some sort of unexplainable energy – like an invisible noose - that regularly binds him from keeping up (as much as he wanted to) with the standards of the Guardian Force (and doubtless the Schubaltzes), like it was his star-crossed fate to be a perpetual screw-up.

Hating so much to be bothered by the thought, he took a deep breath, and threw it into the back of his mind, where he hopes it would stay, at least for the next twenty-four hours or so.

In half an hour, Thomas is supposed to report to Rob Herman, whose rank was recently promoted from Captain to Major. All the same, he wasn't in a hurry to do so, as he was expecting probably another sermon from him for some mistake he wasn't sure he did. He decided to spend his remaining time examining the photograph of the whole group in front of the destroyed Death Stinger… a cenotaph to their celebrated victory over evil. President Camford suggested that the picture be enlarged and made into a mural; Emperor Rudolph apparently heeded this.

Thomas approached the picture, studied his own features, and wondered why on earth he had to make that silly smile!

"Man, I really look stupid! All the other guys are much better looking than I am," He thought to himself. "I _know_ I'm a nice person despite everything! Unless Fiona saw it from the beginning, I'll never get her to _really_ notice me."

He then shifted his eyes to the features of Fiona. He marveled at her beauty.

"Who says she isn't photogenic?" he reasoned.

Ever since he laid his eyes on her, she has become his purpose to live. He knows he had been having some trouble adjusting as a new member of the Guardian Force a few years back (because everyone had the same expectations of him as his brother, Karl). Fiona has become his saving grace, making him strive to become better with each passing day. That was until he was dealt the blow when Irvine insensitively blurted out that it was Van whom Fiona is really in love with all along. It was like someone dug into his chest, ripped his heart out, shredded it to pieces, and fed it to the dogs.

At that moment, he started recollecting the time when it all happened. His brain played flashbacks of Van and his Blade Liger being knocked off a cliff by Raven and his Geno Breaker. In search for their missing teammate, he rappelled along with Irvine down the canyon where Van fell. He recalls Fiona being distressed at the fact of losing Van. He recalled starting to have suspicions back then, which were later confirmed when Irvine sensed his qualms and was just too quick and too happy to spell the whole thing out to him.

If it weren't for Fiona, he would have left the Guardian Force a long time ago. But now that his suspicions had truth in it…

"What am I thinking?" he signed. "She's only got eyes for Van. I can never make her love me."

As others find his situation rather trivial and hilarious… for Thomas, it was a nightmare. It was like his whole world came crashing down on him. Having the misfortune of falling in love with Fiona at first sight was bad enough, but having insult added to injury was even worse. He hoped that every bit of the taunting would go away… but they just wouldn't stop! What hurt the most, though, was Fiona being oblivious of his feelings towards her. The pain was often too hard to bear that he considered suicide at one point. Providentially, Thomas didn't pursue his gruesome plan. Through some ethereal manipulation, it became tattooed in his head that taking the easy way out wasn't the answer.

In his desire to put the whole issue behind him, he decided he'd be happy for both Fiona and Van… happy for them having found each other, and happy for them having a whole lifetime together ahead. But time and again, he imagined how Fiona could have been his. As much as he wanted to, it was hard to move on. It was so difficult to get over the fact that his first love had fallen head-over-heels with someone else a long time ago… the bond between her and Van unbroken by time, remaining strong as ever.

All Thomas could do for now was to close his eyes and take a few seconds of cogitation. Later, he opened them again, and then looked at the image of Marianne, Rudolph's fiancée, on the mural.

Marianne was the only person who actually cared for Thomas. She was the only one who believed that there was a way for Fiona and him. She can be annoying at times, but in truth, she has always supported him like he was her own brother, if she had one. Thomas felt that if he died, Marianne would be the only one who'd feel the void. Lightheartedly, he imagined her standing by his grave, crying over the missed chances by which he could have won over Fiona's heart.

"Typical Marianne. Always the matchmaker," Thomas thought. This put a smile across his face.

When everyone else would choose to solely reminisce the instances Thomas tripped and fell, Marianne would recall the same number of times he would pick himself up with grace and poise. She'd be the only one who'd understand how much he wanted to make his mark in the world. She was aware of how circumstance was often unkind to him. She'd be the only one who could deduce that if ever Thomas had a choice on how he desired to go down in history, he wanted to be remembered not so much as a soldier who purely follows commands, but more as an advocate of science who saves lives in the process. Strangely yet contentedly, he'd feel from her the kind of love a sibling would give, something he didn't readily feel from Karl. But then again, he'd cut Karl some slack. He knows he loves him (albeit not openly), despite that stern, tough-guy façade. After all, he's his big brother, and brothers are supposed to look out for each other.

"Thank you, Marianne…" he whispered to the picture, as if Marianne was actually in front of him.

Just then, he heard the voice of Moonbay approaching, chanting the same crappy song ("I'm a transporter from the wasteland…") with her downrightly unsupported singing voice. She comes out of the corner of one of the hallways that lead to the lobby, hands behind her, singing audaciously like she just didn't care. Good thing, though, she was nearing the end of her song. Those within hearing range of her gave out sighs of relief. She noticed the younger Schubaltz standing in front of the mural. He was still studying the picture.

"Thomas! Surprised to see you up so early," she said, nearing Thomas. "Careful, don't stare too long at the picture or those in it might actually scurry away!"

Thomas gave an almost indistinct grunt as an answer to Moonbay's humor. She, on the other hand, perceived an unusual look on his face; it was basically the same forlorn expression he has been wearing all morning.

"Well… you're not your perky self this morning," Moonbay exclaimed mockingly.

Thomas could feel goose bumps grow over his arms with annoyance on hearing the insolent tone of Moonbay's voice. "God! These people don't seem to know of anything else to do around me," he thought. He was amazed at how snide remarks such as that still affected him, considering he had years under his sleeve trying his best to numb himself emotionally against them. He tried as much as possible not to show his displeasure. Moonbay, however, took it wrongly and retorted at Thomas' paucity of feelings.

"Whoa, wait…" she continued, preserving the sardonic timbre in her voice. "Suddenly I felt this wave of sympathy for you come over me." She then made a gesture of shrugging something imaginary off her shoulders. "Hmmm, never mind that. It'll pass."

This time, her insensitivity hit a nerve. Thomas did his best not to let her condescendence distort his face in disgust. He tried to not to lash out at her, for fear of acting out another fit of immaturity. "Remember the high road, Thomas!" he kept telling himself until the turmoil in his chest subsided.

He turned his head slightly to Moonbay, gazing at her with piercing green eyes that looked even more unnerving now. Moonbay was taken aback at the sight. At that instant, it sent a chill down her spine that made her feel like her hairs were standing on end. She felt like a computer with a reset button that was suddenly pushed. It took her some time to regain her bearings, as she was speechless for a good number of seconds. That was her first chance to see Thomas look that way. She had always considered him to be this gawky geek whom she'd sooner ignore than take a look at… a slapstick who'd blush furiously and lose himself when Fiona would so much as look at him… a doofus who'd positively screw-up every mission entrusted to him.

That gaze he had thrown her at that instant, however, was indeed unexpected. Normally, when Thomas would lose his temper, Moonbay would simply disregard it in a hurry; in her perspective, a teed-off Thomas was tantamount to something trivial, like a teenager throwing a tantrum. But now something was definitely very eerie and different about him and his stare that it unquestionably shocked her. Did she actually see a small fraction of the sum of all his anger and frustration penned up inside him all these years?

Thomas saw that Moonbay got the message. Still looking at her with fierce eyes, he bowed his head a little in a civilized greeting. He then gently turned around and walked away. He was so amazed at how he actually got her to shut up! How he wished he could do the same thing to Irvine… as well as to his superiors, for that matter.

"Thomas… Uh… I…" Moonbay faintly uttered in a feeble attempt to express her regret. She realized she had gone a bit too far that time. However, Thomas was already a good distance from her for him to hear the apology. He was already on his way to meet Major Herman.

He finally reached one of the many briefing rooms in the palace where he was supposed to meet Rob Herman. As he entered, he saw him sitting by the far end of the table, waiting intently for him. Outside the window behind the major, Thomas could see that the sun has already risen high up on the horizon. He closed the door and gave his generically snappy and stiff salute to his superior officer. "Now _I'm_ the one getting nervous," Thomas thought. Herman got up from his chair and returned the salute unperturbedly.

"At ease, Lieutenant," he said.

Thomas' physical inflexibility lessened a bit as he placed his hands behind his back and brought his feet a few inches apart, preparing himself to hear what the major was about to say. He could now feel his heart rate rising. Herman could sense the anxiety betrayed by the lanky lieutenant's rigid posture.

"Uh, Thomas, why don't you sit down," Herman concernedly said as he offered him a seat.

"Yessir!" came Thomas' swift answer, as he expeditiously accepted the major's simple offer out of respect. Just when he was about to sit himself down, he unexpectedly sneezed. He barely had enough time to cover his nose and mouth; some of the documents laid on the table in front of him flew and landed on the floor.

Everyone knows Thomas sneezes whenever he was nervous. It's another one of his traits he finds abominable; others find it very amusing on the other hand. He felt so frustrated thinking how he just couldn't overcome that particular drawback of his.

"This kid is really something," Herman thought, while sighing and shaking his head gently. He'd never seen anyone else move so uneasily besides Thomas. A corner of his mouth curled up in a discreet smile as he watched Thomas wipe his nostrils, itchy and a bit moist from the sneeze.

"Sorry, Major Herman, sir…" Thomas mumbled tensely as he hurriedly picked up the sheets of paper on the floor. He flapped all of the retrieved documents on the table and went through them one by one in an effort to figure out where each previously laid on the table before his sneeze sent them airborne.

"W-well, t-this one goes here… and this one I think was the-ere…" Thomas said timidly as he put each paper back in place, his hands shaking a little while doing so.

"Just leave that for later, Lieutenant. There are more important matters at hand," Herman said, with the smile on his face now replaced by a more serious look.

"Yes, sir," Thomas replied. He dropped everything on the table and finally sat himself down.

Herman continued. "I'm sure you're aware that there are still some factions stealing zoid parts… parts which they manufacture as weapons and sell in underground markets. I take it that you're also knowledgeable of the fact that proceeds from these underground transactions benefit certain high-ranking officials. I'm quite certain you're familiar with the former General Garth."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant answered, his eyes turning bright as he felt a tinge of enthusiasm seep back in his spirit. Thomas remembers Garth quite vividly. He has been on his tail for some time. He had known all along that the former general was involved in this kind of untrustworthy business, but just wasn't able to get any military clearance to start investigations for the simple reason that there 'wasn't enough evidence' to pin him down. They dismissed it as a lost cause. Even Van thought the whole thing was stupid, and that it was nothing but a waste of time. He could recall the same words Van spoke…

_Van: You know Garth's not the only corrupt official involved in illegal arms dealing. The ranks are infested with people like them! What use would it be if you'd go after only one? You might just as well go after the rest of the horde._

Those words made Thomas want to punch Van in the face back then. He was glad, though, that his efforts finally bared fruit when the both of them were sent to stage an attack at General Garth's place. The thought of the event being mentioned (and hopefully recognized at length) by Major Herman made him feel his morale rising once again.

"It was a good thing Irvine was able to infiltrate their network. I guess we were lucky he stumbled upon that Gustav carrying those stolen zoid parts," Herman said, interjecting Thomas' train of thought.

Upon hearing these words, the enthusiasm quickly dissipated. Thomas' soul quickly came screaming in anger. It infuriated him how Herman could just discount all the investigative work he has done on this corrupt general these past years. He genuinely hated the notion of someone like Irvine, an obnoxious ex-mercenary who refuses to be part of the Guardian Force, hog up all the credit for something someone else has been working on for a long time. It should've been him who'd break their underground network, not Irvine.

He was careful not to show his anger, though, lest he'd bury himself deeper into trouble.

"It seems I'm the underdog… God! I should be smart enough to realize that most good things are just too good to be true!" he thought. He just tried to forget about it. After all, Garth has been brought to justice. That's all that matters really. Not who gets the acclaim and who doesn't.

"One reason I called you here, Thomas, is because it has come to my attention that you have been after Garth for some months prior to his arrest," said Herman. "I've just known from Van, too, that you mentioned to him time and again about certain materials that can be used as evidence against him in court of law. You know that his case is still pending, and he hasn't been convicted yet due to some reasonable doubt."

Thomas stared at Major Herman fixedly. Somehow, he could feel what the major was going to say next.

"I was hoping we could use the information you have researched on this man to help clear the doubt, and bring Garth to justice," Herman added… exactly how Thomas predicted. "Could you give those files to me later in the afternoon?"

"S-sure, sir, no problem," answered Thomas.

"Thank you, lieutenant," the major said plainly. It wasn't the kind of positive reception Thomas had in mind, but as long as it helps serve justice, he can live with it. He was glad, nonetheless, that Van volunteered this bit of information to Rob Herman in the first place.

"Glad I could be of help, sir," Thomas said, with a fake smile on his lips. "Is there anything else that you wanted to tell me, sir?" he continued politely after noticing several seconds of silence following his last phrase. He hoped to be dismissed as soon as possible before the topic of discussion takes a nasty turn.

"No, no," Herman responded. "That'll be all for today, lieutenant."

Thomas got up from his chair, and gave his usual salute. He thought that the sooner he was out of the room, the better. But as he was about to turn his back, he heard the major speak again: "Oh, yes, Thomas, there is one more thing."

Thomas got that sickening feeling in his chest again. He had no choice but to turn around to face Herman once more. "Now what?" he asked himself.

"I have been noticing quite a number of blunders from you in your previous missions, Thomas," came Herman's firm rejoinder. "The worst was during your last search-and-rescue to Mount Isolina. Your serious lack of judgment almost cost your assignment's life and yours! You practically risked everyone's safety. You know from history how fogs complicate it's treacherous landscape. You should have let Lieutenant Fleiheit handle her removal from the ravine because he knows the terrain better!"

"With all due respect, major," began Thomas, mustering a little courage to reason out. "I had to make that call. I _had _to climb down the cliff! She was too frightened to grab on to the rope Van lowered."

He wanted to add that the rope was too short to reach the victim, something that was due to Irvine's miscalculation (for which he was stubborn to admit) that they had enough equipment to accomplish the mission. He apparently did not recheck what they would need prior to departure. He also wanted to say that Van – being the swashbuckler he is – wanted Irvine to tie the rope tightly around his ankles in the hope of increasing the length of their improvised lifeline and lower him down so he can reach the stranded girl. Thomas foresighted that what they planned on doing would be extremely dangerous, even for an ex-mercenary like Irvine. The slabs of rock he would be standing on were muddy and slippery. He had to sustain the load of two people (with one who'd expectedly shake in frenzied terror) while clenching the rope in an awkward position. Plus, they had the thick fog to worry about; they couldn't see a thing beyond five meters from them.

"Besides, I had Beek to guide me," is what Thomas said instead. But he didn't want to sell his friend Van out.

He remembered he anticipated a lot of mountaineering in this mission, so he installed special auxiliary gear onto his suit to help him in climbing up and down steep piles of earth and rock. He suggested to his two companions that he do the same with theirs. Van and Irvine, on the other hand, thought they won't need it, and instead, brought their own equipment. He barely had enough time to conduct a substantial number of test drives on his new installations because of the urgency of the matter at hand, so testing it on real-life situations definitely carried it own considerable risks. Seeing that the peril of Van's plan outweighed that what Thomas was taking on, he called out to them to stop whatever they were doing. Since he was the only one who could understand Beek's bleeping noises, he thought it would be best if he were the one who'd climb down the abyss.

_Thomas: "Hey guys… whatever you're planning on doing… don't do it! It's too dangerous!"_

_Irvine: "Oh, really? If you've got any better ideas, c'mon… let's hear it!"_

_Thomas: "Here's one… I'm climbing down to get her."_

_Irvine: "Don't be stupid, Thomas!"_

_Van: "Yeah, Thomas. If this is about proving yourself, forget it!"_

_Thomas: "Will you two shut up? It's the only way… Beek, scan the rock face for anything I can grab hold on."_

After processing Beek's input, Thomas wished himself luck, gulped in a fearful yet comical way, and started climbing down the steep mountainside. Just the idea of hanging over the edge of the sheer drop made him extremely woozy. He did some rock-climbing as leisurely exercises during his free time, but he never thought that the real thing was so much harder than it looked, probably because there weren't any ropes tied around him to give him a sense of security. While he was actually climbing down the steep incline, he made it clear to himself that he doesn't have an assurance that he won't be plummeting to the bottom. At least his 'upgraded suit' made the job a bit easier. The rocks were covered in moss, but with the modifications on Thomas' suit and Beek's guiding noises, he was able to tread over them without that much slipping. With the help of thermo-scan goggles, he spotted their assignment curled up on an overhanging rock, which was bit-by-bit eroding due to her weight. He knew he had to act fast before the overhanging rock's foundation wears away, bringing about an ultimate fall to death.

As he approached the stranded girl, things began to get more precarious. She became more hysterical. Her shaking and screaming made it hard for Thomas to grab hold of her, so he had to make use of some parenteral sedatives. Even the undertaking of administering the tranquilizer was hard enough because of the girl's kicking and shoving. Somehow, he managed to inject the sedative into one of the girl's deltoids. As the anxiolytic started to kick in, her hysteria lessened a great deal. But this time, the girl was too drowsy to grab on tightly to her rescuer. Unluckily, it so happened that the overlying rock had already completely eroded. Thomas made it a point from the start to seize one of the girl's wrists in case of any eventualities, that is, before she meets her untimely demise by completely disappearing into the abyss. Though he maintained his firm grip on the girl, the sudden jolt caused by her weight, on the other hand, made him lose his grasp on the mossy rocks, making both of them slide down the steep incline a few meters. He could hear the horror-struck voices of Van and Irvine calling out in the background.

Keeping his cool, Thomas pulled out a retractable ice axe built in his suit and jabbed it fiercely on the rocky incline, preempting their plunge to doom. He could feel the blood draining from his face in fright. His heart was pounding fast in his chest. While hanging on to dear life, he couldn't help but wonder what could have possessed him to climb down the treacherous terrain in the first place. Grueling as it has been, he managed to secure the rescued party onto his back. Afterwards, they slowly made their way to the top, and eventually to their safety. He was, of course, greeted by Van and Irvine's angry, scolding voices, telling him that what he just did was the stupidest and craziest thing he has ever done. Van was relieved, though, that everyone was safe…

Thomas suspected it was Irvine who relayed to Herman what had happened – as part of protocol, no doubt; there may have been a few unintentional exaggerations, or else the major wouldn't be acting so uptight. Thomas couldn't imagine Van Fleiheit, on the other hand, giving him away just like that. He'd trust Van with that sort of thing, and is truly appreciative of it. But time and again he couldn't help being jealous of him, obviously because Van had Fiona while he had no one.

The flashback came to an abrupt end when Thomas heard Major Herman make a retaliatory reply to his earlier statement.

"This is just like you: you're too dependent on your machines!"

Thomas' heart sank upon hearing the comment. Herman then turned his back to look outside the window. "Thomas, I'm sorry, but according to the recent reports, it seems that you've been acting rather impulsive lately," he said with a hint of disquiet in his voice. "Whatever it is you're trying to prove to us or to your teammates or to yourself… please don't pursue it." He then turned back to face Thomas. He strode alongside the table while tapping his fingers on its edge uneasily. He snorted inconspicuously before continuing voicing the rest of his concerns.

"How do I put it…? Um… While you were still in the academy doing battle simulations, Van was already on the combat zone seeing and fighting _actual_ battles with _real_ zoids," he said warily. "He's grown to become a much more skillful and seasoned soldier; you, on the other hand…"

There came an abrupt pause, followed by Herman clearing his throat. He realized he might not have used the correct words in his last unfinished sentence. Although Thomas was his subordinate, he understands how criticisms can sometimes be vicious, so he tried his best to at least deliver the message to him in a diplomatic manner. "What I mean to say is, know your limitations. Just learn to understand that you can't change who you are."

Thomas, however, couldn't believe what he just heard. As much as he wanted to express his outrage, he can't. At that instant, he wanted so much to put his foot down and question the major with no holds barred what he really meant by what he just said. He also wanted to know why they had entrusted huge responsibilities to him in the first place, as a member of the Guardian Force, only to find out that they doubted his capabilities all along.

"I hope you're aware that we have to take the necessary disciplinary actions so these kinds of mistakes don't happen again!" continued Herman, with the stern reprimanding character reintroduced in his tone. "So it's best you'd take every effort to redeem yourself in the future to make up for those previous slip-ups. Dismissed!"

Thomas felt like another stake was driven through his heart. He again gave his usual stiff salute. As he exited the room, he quickly gave out a sigh of exasperation. Even though the briefing had its usual dose of admonishment, he was glad this time it didn't take all morning. Infuriated as he is, he still maintained a mask-like face to hide his real disposition. As he briskly paced down the hallway back into the lobby, he noticed a glimpse of Moonbay in his peripheral vision. Apparently, she had entirely gotten over her penitence for putting Thomas down earlier, as she was obviously engaged in an energetic chat (which, in Thomas' point of view, looked more like a lover's squabble) with Irvine.

He felt his stomach grumble with hunger. He realized he hadn't taken any breakfast yet. It was a good thing he didn't fall unconscious from hypoglycemia back in the briefing room, lest he provides another opportunity for Major Herman to catch him flat-footed. He hurried back to his quarters, because he wanted to start Beek up first before attending to his personal necessities; he decided he'd just proceed to the cafeteria as soon as everything was in order.

A soufflé of emotions were gyrating within Lieutenant Schubaltz's psyche at the moment – resentment at Moonbay for her thoughtlessness, frustration at Fiona's obliviousness towards his feeling for her, jealously at Van for getting the girl without even trying, apprehension at Rob Herman's caveat, and disgust at Irvine's smug attitude. By and large, he wasn't sure to any further extent how to feel or what to feel first. Nevertheless he was certain of one thing – he's now holding a position requiring him to answer to disparagement and accusations.

Chapter III coming soon.


	3. Chapter III

_Thanks for the reviews. I know how things tend to get repetitive and dragging; that's how I intended my fanfic to turn out, as a matter of fact… at least for the first part of it. But I hope I've loosened our dear lieutenant up just right in this chapter. As for Thomas starting a relationship with Moonbay… hmmm… let's just see how things'll develop later in the story. ;)_

_As always, I don't own Zoids or its characters, except for Konrad Koebner._

_Sorry, yaoi fans. No yaoi in this fanfic._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER III**

Thomas entered his room the way he had left it that morning: the bed already tidied up, the blinds still closed, and computer parts and gadgets he tinkered on the previous night still sprawled over an adjacent desk. He opened the blinds first to let the sunshine in. Surely he didn't want to walk across the room in the dark and accidentally trip over anything he unwittingly left lying on the floor just before he went out early that morning to watch the sun rise.

With the tender sunlight (and it's soothing warmth) already introduced into the room, Thomas then took the headpiece component of Beek from one of the drawers, attached a wire to its side, and connected it to a laptop, also situated on the said desk beside his bed. The wire's purpose was to synchronize the updates he made for Beek in the laptop with the Beek in his headset.

Last night, he commenced work on a new program for the AI that would enable it to use appropriate mathematical equations to compute for probabilities of success for every option taken given any hypothetical situation… sort of 'predicting the future,' but not quite. Though still a work in progress, Thomas figured today might be the right time to test it out. He felt he might need this during combat missions, now that he had no choice but try to live with the fact that everyone else thinks that he is and will always be a poor combat strategist. Powerful the MegaloMax may be, he reckoned it might not be enough at times to bring certain enemy zoids out of commission. That was where finding other useful approaches to ensure victory via his newly developed program came in. He admitted to being careless on the battlefield before, but having grown a bit wiser over the past years, and possessing new electronic improvements, he hoped to improve his lot.

As the status bar on the computer screen indicated that the process of synchronization was approximately 95 done, the lieutenant started to feel his stomach grumbling once more. He began feeling a bit lightheaded, which was probably the effect of low blood sugar taking over. As soon as the computer was done, he disconnected the headset and positioned it where it had spent most of its time – over the left side of his head. He shut the computer down afterwards. Seeing that he hadn't forgotten anything, he left the room, locked the door, and proceeded to the base canteen straight away.

It was like rush hour in the canteen when Thomas arrived… like everyone got hungry at the same time. Not only that, more people started coming into the mess hall, so he tried to move into the already long queue as quickly as he can. Good thing, though, the line wasn't moving slowly.

Finally, he reached the front of the line. He ordered what was on the usual breakfast menu the cafeteria served day after day. He grabbed his tray of food, and walked across the hall to look for a place to sit. Luckily, he spotted an unoccupied bench by the far end of the hall; all the other tables had already been taken. He seated himself down and started eating.

After a few mouthfuls of food, his dizziness started to resolve, making him more alert to happenings around him. He then noticed that Van, Fiona, Moonbay, Irvine, and Dr. D were actually seated together six benches away from his left. He saw too that they were busy engaged in zestful conversation. He very much wanted to approach them and graciously try to take part in the fun, and probably (but then again highly unlikely) make amends with Moonbay for the unexpected discomfiture he had caused her. By virtue of some subtle signs, however, he sensed it wouldn't be a good idea to do so. Intuitively, he sensed he wasn't that close a person to them for him to be truly accepted in the said group; he'd simply risk appearing awkward and out-of-place in the process. He simply smiled to himself and decided he didn't want to ruin the enjoyment he himself might otherwise feel by butting in just like that.

Since there was no one nearby for him to talk to, he was left with no choice but to again indulge in self-pity (which absolutely made him cringe with repulsion). As he continued to eat his breakfast in an inconspicuous manner, he automatically reverted back into deep contemplation.

"I'd really want to be part of that group. But whenever I'm with them, I'd just end up being the inferior one more often than not. They'd keep mostly to themselves... most of the time not bothering to let me into anything they planned together. I always thought... well... even though we're all members of the Guardian Force, that's as far as things go. Fiona and Van... Dr. D... Moonbay and Irvine... they share mutual histories. They've gone through the same struggles together back when the Republic and the Empire were still at war. They're soul mates, while I'm... I'm... nobody really."

As Thomas was introspecting, he was observing the others at the same time from a distance. Not once did anyone from the group, in turn, become aware that he was just sitting nearby and glancing towards them the whole time. He wasn't expecting any of them look his way, considering they've got all the enjoyment they need where they are now. As he was finishing up the last of his breakfast, he continued his own analysis (albeit slightly biased) on how his standing in the group might most likely be. He understood that he might just be acting out some form of paranoia, but he still pictured his teammates one by one, and ventured on a few guesses on how each may opinionate about him being in the Guardian Force.

"Van... you've always been the dependable one. You're everyone's hero. You're the best darn soldier there is. Though we've had our differences in the beginning when we first met, I'm glad we somehow managed to work it out. I've finally considered you a friend... even if we've become rivals to Fiona's heart. You shouldn't worry about it, really… 'coz for me, it's a losing battle. You're the lucky one, and believe me if I told you that I'm happy for you and Fiona. You've been the thoughtful one, too... I'd give you that. You're the only one who visited me in the hospital when I was injured from the ambush by Raven's Geno Breaker, and you're the one who saved me from being annihilated by the gravity cannon. However, I can't help it sometimes if I may feel that you think I'm the Guardian Force's weak link... that I can never be better than you in one way or another... that I can never be a man of distinguished valor I've wanted others to see in me for so long. I'm sorry... though it may look like you've regarded me as your friend too, sometimes I believe the only reason you visited me in the hospital was because you wanted to ease whatever guilt you felt in your conscience back then. I know may be totally untrue, but somehow I sense that the sole reason you saved me from certain death was because you were afraid your heart would feel that same guilt again.

"Fiona... what can I say? You're the most beautiful creature I've ever met on Planet Zi, and I'm madly in love with you! How I wish you were mine, but I understand I can't force you to be interested in someone like me. I'm a geek… a poor excuse for a man. Love is something that happens to the right people… and in this case, it didn't happen to me. Love works with serendipity, I know. It can't be coerced. It's crystal clear to me that your love is for someone else… that it has never been mine to lose in the first place. And that keeps reminding me of a burning emptiness that can only be put out by a loved one. I've always maintained this fantasy that our roads will somehow meet in the future… that there's still a way for us. That's what gets me through every day of my pathetic life. You can still soothe me with your strong presence, even though that presence is meant for someone else. But every time I think of you… my feelings end up getting hurt. Why? Not once did you regard me for my affection for you. I keep getting eggs on my face because of you, but you just walk on by like nothing has happened. My emotions are toyed constantly, and not once did you take me seriously. Is this whole predicament of mine a mere trifle to you? If you just said it candidly to my face that you don't love me… at least, that would have been fair. I could have lived with that. Why did I have to hear it from Irvine instead… of all people?

"Irvine… I don't know what kind of guy you've been in the past, but this much I know - you're the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met. You're one sarcastic bastard who doesn't have anything better to do but provoke other people by getting to their sensitive points and prodding it continuously until it really stings. Your suave, laid-back mercenary attitude makes me sick to my gut. Everything was going fine for me until you moved into the picture. You're the last thing I need… another member of the Guardian Force to be compared with. I've already had enough of that with Van. Man, I think people like you spawn on filthy, damp corners of wet locker room floors. I don't know what kind of freakish charisma you've got, but you've always managed to get the attention, while I invariably get the bashing. The gang stood by you as you mope about you're totaled Command Wolf. Hell, even Dr. D was just too happy to fix things up for you. To be perfectly honest… if only I hadn't any morals, you'd have been dead a long time ago.

"Moonbay… if it wasn't for you, no one else would have found me in the desert after the ambush, and I would have long been a goner. It's funny, because back then I was beginning to think that you're OK, but again it's just me rejoicing too soon. You must think I can't see through you. You probably didn't know back then when you salvaged me that I was related to Karl. Heaven knows what you would've otherwise done if you knew that he's my brother. But either way, I guess I should be grateful that you happened to pass by. I'm afraid you're just like Van in a lot of respects. For one, you both think of me as the weakest link of the chain. You've always been cold and indifferent towards me. To tell you the truth, I do not have the slightest idea why I should deserve that kind of treatment from you. Come to think of it, it's me who's been taking steps towards building bridges, but all I get from you are snide remarks. I'm sure your reactions would have been so much different and much more civil if it was Van, or Karl, or Dr. D who'd invite you to a friendly chat instead of me. Well, all I can say is that you and Irvine are genuinely made for each other.

"And of course, there's you, Dr. D. You'd move heaven and earth to transfer the battle data of Irvine's Command Wolf to a much better Lighting Saix. You've also been working your back off with Fiona to make major improvements with Van's Blade Liger. Thanks to you, I had to push my DiBison's abilities to the limit every single day just to barely keep up with the both of them… and, honestly, I don't know how much longer it'll be able to keep up. Not once did you propose to make some upgrading on my zoid. A lot have been ranting on about how slow my DiBison is. How about improving my DiBison's abilities then? That's the very least you could have done for it. If you could invest on making the Blade Liger the best zoid there is, why not invest on my zoid too for a change. If I was able to do some improvements myself when I installed Beek, why can't you? But my problem is if I'd voice out my concerns with you, there's that danger of me sounding childish. Truth is, I just don't want the DiBison to break down unexpectedly in the middle of a reconnaissance mission, for instance. I don't want its limitations to be blamed for mishaps during battles… given the fact that the DiBison is a relatively 'outdated' zoid. If only you'd see things that way."

He felt another familiarly heavy sensation in his chest. Disappointment is a feeling with which Thomas has unmistakably grown accustomed to. However, he vowed to himself that he would never grow bitter. He abhorred the idea of growing bitter towards comrades who found their niche in the Guardian Force. He'd never allow something such as bitterness to dictate his life and steer it to a persistent state of unhappiness. He knew that he could go higher than that… that he could transcend. Besides, to be branded as a petulant whiner was the last thing he'd want to happen.

Channeling this frustration into other ways that'd help spare him the risk of appearing ridiculous became something habitual. Fortunately for Thomas, there wasn't a shortage of activities for something that has become quite mandatory as that. All day he'd tinker on the mechanics of his AI. Sometimes he'd tinker on another invention, not caring if it'll work or not, just as long as he has something his hands can work on. But right now, when he's just sitting alone in the cafeteria with nothing else to do but stare at his food, perhaps he might as well gobble his breakfast down with aberrant gusto.

"Damn! What does it take to gain respect around here?" he wondered as he started downing his food. "Why is there _always_ a freakin' need to prove myself? Why is there _always_ a freakin' need to prove your worth to a bunch of people who wouldn't even give the slightest care if you got lost in the desert? I can't leave… I can't go away. This is the only stable structure I've got! It's hard enough to find work on something I'm really good at. I'm sure the roster of the research lab back in my old university is already full, so I guess landing a job there is nowhere near a possibility for me."

Thomas kept on stuffing his face with his breakfast. He gobbled down every small mound of food so fast that he didn't feel the urge to breathe in between mouthfuls. As soon as he swallowed the last morsel from his plate, he subsequently slammed the fork and knife he was holding hard on the table.

"Whoa, easy there, partner!" came a voice that seemingly emanated from in front of him.

The whole time he was indulging in his angst, Thomas failed to notice that a man, more or less into his fifties, had apparently approached his bench. He had graying hair, a beard to match, and an overall amiable mien that came along with his presence. Bespectacled, clad in what appeared to be a white smock gown, and holding his tray of food, he simply stood in front of the already satiated Lieutenant Schubaltz. There was a genuinely warm, fatherly gaze in the middle-aged man's eyes, somehow patiently waiting for Thomas' permission to allow him to sit with him at the same table.

Thomas looked quizzically at the newcomer, trying to figure out what he wanted that made him approach his spot.

"Is this seat taken?" asked the middle-aged man with a smile, pertaining to the nearest vacant chair.

Realizing that he had completely forgotten his manners (and at the same time feeling stupid that he actually did), Thomas apologetically offered that chair to the man.

"No, no one's with me. Please, go ahead… take a seat," was the lieutenant's answer.

"Thank you very much," came the man's calm and grateful response. He placed his tray on the table and seated himself down, fidgeting a bit while doing so to find an acceptable posture that would keep his white smock gown from getting wrinkled.

"Of course he wanted to come and sit with me," Thomas thought. "It's obvious… all the other seats in the hall are taken, and I'm the only one seated alone by this table."

The older man finally settled in his seat. "I believe we haven't met. I'm Dr. Konrad Koebner. I'm a psychologist," he started, as he extended his right hand to Thomas. "I just started working here roughly four months back, so therefore I'm not quite familiar with all the faces in the base, except for the ones who already came to my office for consultation."

Thomas did likewise with his right hand, and shook the older man's hand firmly in greeting. "First Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz of the Guardian Force, sir." His introduction was comparable to his customary stiff and snappy salutation, only this time he wasn't giving a hand salute but was shaking somebody else's hand instead.

"Ah, yes," answered Dr. Koebner. "You're one of the three brave soldiers who defeated the Death Stinger. I've heard so much about the whole event. I admire your courage."

Thomas was happy to hear what the older man just said. A simple yet genuine complement like that meant a lot. "At least someone here thinks of me in that light," he thought.

"Uh… um, so you… you've been here for four months now?" queried a tongue-tied Thomas, in an attempt to crack up a conversation. There was always this feeling of awkwardness when two unfamiliar parties come together and talk. But between feeling sorry for oneself and sitting together with someone he barely knew, Thomas would go for the latter anytime. At least for him, company's company.

"That's right," was the older man's reply to Thomas' question. "I've spent most of my life in the Helic Republic, in case you wanted to know. I've always wanted to travel around, so I had to grab every opportunity that came by. As soon as I had a chance to get out of the Central Continent, I took it."

There was a few seconds of silence afterwards. In an effort to fill in the dead space, Thomas uneasily asked what he guessed was a suitable follow-up question: "What happened then?"

On hearing the question, the older man unhurriedly shifted his glance towards Thomas. "Well, I ended up with a secretarial job in a university research facility in Europa's capital, some 50 miles northeast of Elemia territory," he answered in a fairly unreserved manner. "The most interesting thing is, that institute specialized solely on human and organoid behaviors… imagine that. That's where I got my degree in Human Psychology. A professor there thought I could go further than just being a mere desk clerk, so he fixed me up a scholarship grant. But that was a good number of years back. Getting scholarship grants was so much easier then"

"I see. Good for you," Thomas said politely.

"Why, thank you," said Dr. Koebner. He ripped open a sachet of sugar and emptied it into his cup of coffee. While stirring the beverage with a plastic teaspoon, he eyed other unopened packets of sugar on Thomas' tray. "Is it OK if I help myself to those?" he asked with a smile. "I like my coffee really sweet. I know… it's not good practice, but what can you do? Old habits die hard."

"Sure, it's yours," Thomas said as he chuckled in mild amusement at the older man's last sentence. He couldn't help thinking of Fiona pouring large amounts of salt in her coffee, just the way she liked it. "Hmm, this old guy's kinda cool," he thought. However, he was amazed at how quickly they established some kind of rapport. He thought it quite bizarre for someone he hardly knew to practically tell his life story to him. With that insight, he kept in mind to maintain his guard up… that is, if there was actually a catch to this whole chat.

"Like I said, that's where I became a psychologist," he calmly continued while enjoying his overly sweetened cup of coffee. "Not exactly the field I was interested in, but spending some time working around colorful people… y'know… I guess you learn to love what you do. I then wanted to pursue into postgraduate studies and hopefully get into research, but that's when I learned about my parents' untimely death."

"Sorry to hear that," said Thomas in a subtly sympathetic tone. The older man smiled at the lieutenant and nodded gently in appreciation.

"Don't worry, son. It was a long time ago. It made me realize, however, that leaving for Europa was a really selfish thing on my part," said Dr. Koebner. "So I went back home and shouldered the responsibility of my parents, since I'm the eldest in the family. I took on a lot of odd jobs to make ends meet. I did that until all of my dependent siblings were able to at least stand on their own. Of course, the war didn't make things easier for all of us. That's probably the reason why I'm still a bachelor… no time for love, ha ha ha!"

"Hmp, welcome to the club," snorted Thomas under his breath.

"Anyway, I really wanted to pursue my studies," continued the older man. "While I worked, I devised ways to make sure my knowledge on human behavior didn't fade away during the hiatus. Luckily, I finally had the good fortune of enrolling in a local university on a quasi-related field – paranormal psychology. It does nothing for our economy, that's for sure. But it's quite interesting nonetheless."

"Uh-huh," nodded Thomas. "Paranormal… Hmm, this guy's pretty amusing, but I hope he's not off his rocker," he speculated, trying his best not to show a hint of skepticism in his face.

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy," said Dr. Koebner, as if seeing right through Thomas. "Science keeps disproving and dismissing the possibility of existence of paranormal phenomena. But come to think of it, science was never successful in proving that such are _non_-existent. That's what makes it quite exciting."

Thomas understood the older man's logic. He felt a bit annoyed with it, though… him being a man of science himself. But at the same time, he felt some embarrassment for making an immediate presumption that the old man was harebrained for believing in something unconventional. Dr. Koebner, being the psychologist that he is, sensed the discomfort on Thomas' part and changed the topic of conversation instead.

"You may wonder what a civilian such as myself is doing back here in the Red River Base," continued Dr. Koebner. "Well, we all know that the long-standing war between the two factions is finally over. Naturally, we'd expect the peace reigning between them to be fragile… kinda like a newborn baby, weak and helpless in the beginning, but grows and strengthens over time with the right nurturing. So, in an effort to strengthen and safeguard this peace, the Guardian Force was established… but of course, you know that already. I'm also sure that you know of agreements that have been made to facilitate sharing or exchanging of resources like zoids, for example."

"Yeah. That's how I got my DiBison," said Thomas eagerly.

"Yes… but those treaties extend to human resources as well," Dr. Koebner carried on. "For example, the Empire felt it needed people with knowledge on human and organoid behavior, so the Republic exports individuals such as myself from Delpoi to Europa or elsewhere, and assigns us positions in locations such as the Red River Base or the Imperial Palace. The whole thing occurs in vice-versa too, of course. It helps a lot to know that traveling difficulties are a thing of the past, since both Republican and Imperialist alike can finally travel in and out of each other's homelands without tension."

"I… I didn't know that," said Thomas with a trace of puzzlement in his emerald green eyes, as he scratched the tip of his chin.

"Well, now you know," said the psychologist with a smile on his face. "Now then, enough about me. Let's hear about you!"

"W-what?" said Thomas in astonishment.

"You heard me. I only know you as a member of the Guardian Force. C'mon, fill me in on the details of First Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz!" said Dr. Koebner, imitating good-humoredly Thomas' earlier snappy introduction of himself.

"Uh… I…" stammered Thomas, now blushing frantically in discomfiture. He clearly wasn't interested in being psychoanalyzed by a total stranger in such an impromptu manner.

"Doesn't have to be anything complicated. Things such as your likes, dislikes, hobbies… stuff like that… will do," said Dr. Koebner.

There was silence. Dr. Koebner continually stared at an uneasy Thomas. "Well?" he said, with an impish grin on his face.

"Uh… there's nothing interesting, really… well, I… I…"

"Ha ha ha! Now worries, kid! You don't have to answer if you don't want to," laughed Dr. Koebner as he planted a friendly cuff on Thomas' shoulder. On the other end, the nervous lieutenant was relieved that the psychologist was just kidding around. He surely wasn't willing to spill his guts out to someone he barely knew.

"Well, lieutenant, I guess I have to get going," continued Dr. Koebner as he got up from his seat. "Much more to do. Thanks for the company. It was really nice talking with you." He again extended his hand to Thomas.

"Yeah… same here," said Thomas jadedly as he shook the older man's hand.

"Oh, and if you ever feel like having a chat with me, don't hesitate to drop by my office," Dr. Koebner added. "It's at the fourth wing of the base, at Room 402. Thanks again."

"Right… Fourth wing, Room 402," said Thomas unenthusiastically to himself as he watched the older man walk towards the cafeteria exit. Despite the fact that he barely knew the fellow, he felt a strange coziness with him… like some sort of fatherly atmosphere that'd make one want to open up and bare his or her soul to him, given the right incentive, that is. He felt like he wanted to connect with him a while ago, but figured the cafeteria wasn't the right place to voice out his hopes and fears.

"Hmm, I guess that's what psychologists are trained to do," thought Thomas.

He then stood up from his chair and straightened up his outfit, brushing off the crumbs that landed on his lap while he was eating his breakfast. He looked at where Van and the rest of the group were seated a while back and saw that they had already left. He then glanced back at Dr. Koebner, whose silhouette was gradually disappearing as he advanced further through the exit door.

"Yeah," Thomas thought. "Yeah… maybe I just might drop by." His lips slowly curling up into a small contented grin.


	4. Chapter IV

_This chapter is rather short, with a 'filler-ish' ring to it. Nevertheless I had to write it to build up the plot._

_Disclaimer: I don't own zoids or it's characters._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER IV  
**

Thomas went on through the morning routinely accomplishing the same bunch of paperwork. He noticed that since the Mount Isolina incident, he has been given more trivial administrative tasks lately. He hoped for more investigative fieldwork, but was told time and again that there wasn't any need for that at the moment. On the other hand, he started noticing that both the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix were often absent from the hangar. He had asked Dr. D twice or thrice already about these zoids' whereabouts, but the answer he kept getting was that they were out giving their new installations some test-drives. At first, Thomas believed what Dr. D said, but getting the same explanation again and again, he was growing suspicious as to whether or not Van and Irvine had been going on missions without him. He couldn't prove it for now, but he felt like Dr. D was covering up for them.

Despite his frustration, he still carried out his assigned tasks, and not once did he finish his work halfheartedly. His soul was just too weary to entertain ideas such as possibilities of him no longer being trusted as much as before.

He was permitted a forty-five-minute break at the strike of 10 a.m. As soon as the allotted time arrived, he immediately left his desk without even arranging the stacks of paper on it. He grew tired of being in a dreaded cubicle day after day without seeing much action, and was just too happy to spend a half-hour of carefree time in the botanical gardens some distance away from the Red River Base. Three quarters of an hour may not be much, but he was glad to have it for himself. Besides, he was allowed to make the necessary tune-ups on his DiBison the whole afternoon; he definitely looked forward to doing something he really wanted to do. That was incentive enough for him to get him through the remaining one-and-a-half hour of depressing office work.

Thomas rested himself in the shade over a root buttress of one of the towering trees that grew on the garden, and stared at the soothing colors of a variety of flowers that blossomed alongside the main footpath. He couldn't help thinking back at the dreaded briefing with Major Herman, and then at the quasi-redemptive conversation he had with Dr. Koebner that morning. He thought of the latter as a certainly intriguing person. By the way Dr. Koebner was able to decipher Thomas' body language then, he wondered if he could actually get into his subconscious mind and release whatever suppressed memories or emotions he has hidden in it. He had his reservations though. He was afraid Dr. Koebner might find out about how madly in love he is with Fiona Alyssi Lynette. That was one aspect of his psyche he was terrified to share with anyone, especially with Fiona. One slip of the tongue might just start a avalanche of events.

He couldn't say he didn't like his company. It's just that he didn't want to confide in him wholly… at least not just yet. Who would be crazy enough to trust someone you've known only for a number of minutes? Though amiable and fatherly as Dr. Koebner may appear, what if he was actually a spy working for some underground organization plotting against the unified governments of the Empire and the Republic, and that the whole thing about being a psychologist was just an expedient cover-up?

"Then again, what if he isn't?" Thomas thought.

Thomas pondered on that repeatedly for a few minutes; eventually, he thought the whole likelihood of Dr. Koebner being a spy eventually sounded quite remote; it was still possible, though, so he had a good mind not to put his guard down that readily. But bottom line was, Thomas positively needed someone to talk to about things that troubled him. He couldn't do it with Van or Fiona for commonsensical reasons.

Finally, he thought, "I guess one way to find out if this guy's bogus or not is to go to his office and strike up another conversation with him. Then I'll just have to be extra careful with what I would say." He felt that by then he would be able to gauge if this Dr. Koebner really deserved his full trust. Needless to say, even psychologists exercised confidentiality.

He then got up and strolled back towards the base. About twenty meters ahead of him was the outline of a woman. He watched her absentmindedly as he walked on for a few minutes. Eventually, he recognized who the woman was.

"Wha-… It's Fiona!" Thomas thought. His heart started beating fast with exhilaration. He picked up his pace to get closer to her, and perhaps bid her a good morning. But suddenly, an organoid sprung out from nowhere, playfully chasing a butterfly. It then ran towards Fiona and nuzzled in her hands.

"Oh no!" Thomas stopped dead on his tracks. "Zeek's with her! That dumb organoid will ruin everything!"

Right then, he was unexpectedly invaded by a group of children, probably aged four to six years, playing tag. One little girl unexpectedly yet inoffensively clutched at the sides of Thomas' trousers and tried to hide behind his long legs in playful attempt to avoid a fellow toddler from catching up with her. He soon realized that the botanical garden had a daycare center in which youngsters of soldiers and officers working at the Red River Base were enrolled. It was actually a rather helpful project brought to fruition by none other than Marianne herself; it already started a few years back.

Meanwhile, the sound of children's laughter eventually filled the air. Although taken aback at first by their sudden interception of his course, afterwards he couldn't resist smiling at how blithe and untroubled their lives are.

"Kids," he thought. "I've always wanted one or two of my own. I always wondered how it feels to have someone depending on you. But I don't think that'll…"

Before he was able to wrap up his thoughts, Thomas noted that the swarm of children then decided to shift to another course to carry on their carefree game of tag. The little girl who was hiding behind Thomas a while back noticed the group bringing the frivolity to another part of the garden, and now tried to catch up with them. But just when she was about to run towards her other playmates, she accidentally missed a step, tripped, and stumbled.

"Whoa there," exclaimed Thomas as he instinctively went towards the girl who was now crying with pain and fright. He gingerly picked up the toddler, dusted off the earth from her garment, and carefully inspected her for any injuries. Luckily, he found only an abrasion over the little girl's left knee. Though the injury was only solitary, the appearance of the denuded area of skin looked painful enough. "Well, nothing seems to be broken…" Thomas said, but the little girl still cried incessantly.

"There, there now… everything's alright," continued Thomas cooingly. He took out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it delicately around the toddler's injured left knee. Seemingly appreciative of the lieutenant's apparently concerned gesture, the little girl eventually stopped crying.

Thomas finally secured the makeshift bandage. He then took another handkerchief from his other pocket, and wiped the child's eyes dry. "You have to be a little bit more careful next time, OK?" said Thomas gently. "Be sure to let your teacher clean that up when you get back to class."

The child nodded and smiled meekly at Thomas' paternal warmth, her bright eyes gazing onto his smiling face. "Thanks very much, mister," she said just before running back towards the other children.

Instinctively, he glanced back over the group of children playing and eyed that same little girl he just treated, afraid that she might trip and fall again from all that roughhousing.

"Good morning, Thomas…" came a woman's voice. Thomas didn't notice that she had been observing him while he administered first aid to the little toddler.

"Eh?" came Thomas' absentminded reply, still glancing over the playing children. After a few seconds, he turned his head back to face the person who greeted him.

"M-m-miss Fiona!" came his bewildered exclamation, after realizing who she was. His knees started to feel like jelly, and sweat drops started forming over his forehead. He giggled nervously as he returned the greeting. "Good morning to you too, Miss Fiona! I didn't hear you coming…"

" 'I didn't hear you coming'! That's a stupid thing to say!" Thomas thought to himself.

Just then, he also noticed Zeek looking at him, with a blush painted all over its face; apparently, the organoid remembered the time when it thought Thomas was flirting with him when the lieutenant was actually making attempts instead to express his real feelings to Fiona. Of course, Thomas winced as he likewise remembered that bungled escapade. His face then twitched uncontrollably as Zeek came nuzzling against him affectionately.

Fiona giggled decorously at the sight. "Zeek seems to like you very much," she said.

"Ehe… he he he… Er… Right," answered Thomas cringingly.

To Thomas' relief, another butterfly fluttered in front of Zeek's face. The organoid speedily forgot about everything and started scurrying playfully after the flying insect.

"Whew… finally," thought Thomas, as he started to regain his bearings.

"That was a very nice thing you did for the little girl," began Fiona.

"Uh, w-well… I…" stuttered a blushing Thomas. "I was just concerned… w-well, she fell down… she didn't seem to have broken anything, so I guess she'll be fine."

"You seem to be good with youngsters," said Fiona with a smile. "I'm sure you'll be a superb father."

"How will that ever become possible? I'm in love with only one person on this planet, and that one person loves someone else," he thought sadly.

"W-why, thank you, Miss Fiona, ha ha ha… you're too kind!" said Thomas, giggling nervously, hoping that this seemingly bubbly answer would adequately camouflage the psychological pain he was enduring at the moment.

He gazed at Fiona's lovely face; at that point he felt that time stood still, and their surroundings painted a pleasant white, making it seem that they were the only two people left where they stood. It was at that point when Thomas finally got all the courage he can muster to say the words he hadn't been able to say to her for so long.

"Miss Fiona…" began Thomas.

"Yes, Thomas?" asked Fiona.

"Miss Fiona, I just wanted to say…"

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! Thomas was brusquely shaken back into reality by the loud sound of his communicator.

"Lieutenant Schubaltz! Shouldn't you be back in your cubicle by now?" came Herman's voice emanating from the communicator, loud and clear for everyone to hear. Thomas didn't realize that it was already ten minutes past ten in the morning.

"Yes, sir. I'm on my way now," was the poor lieutenant's hurried answer.

"Always count on a superior officer to embarrass me in front of the girl I love," thought Thomas angrily, thinking on how his momentum was collectively ruined..

"I'm sorry about that, Miss Fiona," apologized Thomas. Still blushing from the embarrassment he suffered, he grumbled as he put away his communicator.

"What was that you wanted to say to me, Thomas?" asked Fiona, the gentleness still present in her voice.

Thomas shifted his gaze back to Fiona. Just then, he noticed the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix in the background, arriving just in front of the base's main hangar, with Colonel Karl Schubaltz standing by the entrance. If Van and Irvine hadn't been out on a mission, why else would his older brother meet them personally? Thomas figured that Karl was there to hear first hand from Van and Irvine about the outcome of that mission they just took on.

"Uh, i-it's nothing, Miss Fiona… really," Thomas said to Fiona.

"Nothing! How can that be nothing when it means everything?" came the lieutenant's inner-self screaming.

"OK. Well, until later then," said Fiona, still smiling. Calm and soothing the tone of her voice may be, that parting phrase suggested that she was absolutely unconcerned about what Thomas wanted to say to her in the first place.

Thomas smiled a little, nodded, turned around and hurried back to the Red River Base. Yet another chance to express his true feelings to Fiona Alyssi Linette has slipped through his fingers like fine grains of sand. He tried to hold back his frustration at the thought of fate playing another cruel trick on him.


	5. Chapter V

_Disclaimer: I don't own Zoids or its characters._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER V**

Though Thomas had really looked forward to the afternoon earlier, his enthusiasm was greatly reduced after thinking back at what happened this morning. He gazed at the wall clock to see that it was already a quarter to midday. It felt quite funny that even doing repairs on his faithful DiBison – something he absolutely enjoyed doing – didn't seem that much enjoyable anymore than it had previously been. While waiting for the remaining minutes to pass, he nonchalantly wrapped up his morning reports that he was supposed to submit to his head of office… apparently a full-time pencil pusher. Thomas reasoned to himself that if there was, at least, something good that came out of all of this, it was that he finally confirmed his suspicions that his abilities as a member of the Guardian Force were no longer trusted.

Ironically, he was glad, knowing that he was able to clear all doubt about the notion that he might as well be the dispensable piece in the whole boardgame.

Finally, lunch break came, but the lieutenant was not at all that hungry. He thought he'd just skip eating lunch for now and pay a visit to Marianne at the daycare instead. He figured it was just proper to thank her for all her good intentions. In a few minutes, he was back in the garden where he had been earlier. He spotted the daycare center nearby. He recalled from earlier memos that Marianne would be visiting this week in place of Rudolph to make some inspections on how things are going, especially with the daycare project she started.

He saw that the main entrance was wide open, and he could see Marianne inside clearly, observing the children having their lunch while engaged in conversation with someone he figured to be the head instructor who was assigned to run the daycare. Even so, the lieutenant still did a courteous knock on the door to at least catch the attention of anyone inside. It was Marianne, however, who turned her head to his direction.

"Thomas! What a surprise!" exclaimed Marianne, eyes lightened up and with a wide smile across her face. She told the head instructor that she would be talking to her later, and hurried towards the lieutenant to give him a quick friendly hug. "What brings you to this side of the base?" she then asked.

"I just though I'd pay a friend a visit," answered Thomas, as both of them started walking back toward the garden.

"Hey, how nice of you," said Marianne.

"Well, I… I just like to thank you…" started Thomas.

"Thank me? For what?" asked Marianne.

"Well… maybe for having someone to talk to… for listening to what I had to say," said Thomas, scratching his head, now feeling a bit uneasy. "For being a friend… strangely the only true friend a loser like me could ever have. And for being the sister I never had."

"Oh knock if off, Thomas Schubaltz! You're not a loser, and I'm _definitely_ not a loser's friend, got that? And why the heck do you think our friendship is something strange?" Marianne teasingly reprimanded. That earned her a smile, albeit pitiful, from the lieutenant. From that, she construed the sadness he was experiencing at the moment. She gestured to Thomas that they sit down while they talked.

"How are things going with Fiona? Any luck?" she asked.

"Not good, if you ask me," said Thomas. "Remember how I told you before that I'd wait for the right time to express my feelings to Fiona? Well, I don't think there'll ever be a right time. Silly distractions keep popping about whenever I think I have an opportunity to talk to her alone. Besides, she and Van become closer to each other by the minute; I don't think she even cares that I exist. It seems all is downhill for me from here."

She saw on the lieutenant's face a forlorn expression, for which Thomas made every futile effort to masquerade. She immediately felt sympathy for him that she placed a hand over his shoulder for comfort.

"I-I'm really sorry, Thomas. I don't know what to say," consoled Marianne, afraid that she herself might break down into tears instead of him.

"All I really wanted was her," said Thomas while staring blankly at the flowers growing alongside the footpath.

"You'll meet that special someone someday, Thomas," said Marianne, trying to be reassuring. The lieutenant, on the other hand, didn't make any response.

There was silence for a few moments. Looking at the bright side of things, Marianne again started her matchmaking brainstorming. "Y'know what, Thomas," she began. "I've got tons of female friends who are single. Maybe I can fix you up with one of them…"

"No, Marianne… it's alright… you don't have to," said Thomas wearily as he picked up some pebbles and started tossing them idly across the footpath. "I don't believe love works that way. It just happens when it happens. I know you mean well with all this matchmaking stuff, but with cases like this, I leave it up to serendipity."

Marianne threw a small frown towards Thomas, but completely understood what he meant, and backed off the idea accordingly. It was clear that he isn't over Fiona, and perhaps he never will be. She realized from the beginning that fixing him up with someone he barely knew wasn't going to work, especially with Fiona still in Thomas' mind.

In the meantime, Thomas had already said what he wanted to say to Marianne, and had reflexively acquired the comfort he needed for the time being. It felt awkward after a while that the focus of their conversation was about his dismayed love life, so he attempted to change the topic.

"I really appreciate all that you've done, Marianne, and believe me, I'm most grateful. You don't have to worry about me, though. I'm a big boy. I can handle myself. I just needed someone to talk to about stuff like this. Besides, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Really? What about?" asked a puzzled Marianne.

"It's about someone named Konrad Koebner. Have you heard of him?"

"Konrad Koebner? Well, there's a certain psychologist with that exact same name."

"That's him alright! A psychologist."

"Anyway, he was invited here by Rudolph a few months back to do some work on organoid behavior. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing really. He just seemed kind of seedy."

"Seedy?" laughed Marianne. "You must be mistaking him for someone else. He kind of reminds me of my father. He's actually a really nice person."

"Exactly! He's too fatherly, and that's what concerns me."

"Now how could someone so venerable and so gentle be of so much concern?" teased Marianne. "You sound as if he's some kind of a threat."

"I don't know… maybe he's actually a spy or a double-agent," said Thomas slowly, a bit embarrassed and regretful that he actually brought up the issue of the illustrious psychologist.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Thomas," assured Marianne. "I'm sure whoever Rudolph brings into our backyard is trustworthy enough."

"You sound like you've known him from before," said Thomas, eyeing Marianne.

"As a matter of fact, I did, and I still do," said Marianne casually. "He's one of those who did research on how organoids boost up a zoid's power and capabilities. He actually worked with Dr. D for some time before Dr. D came back to the Red River Base after his long absence."

"Oh! O.K." rejoined Thomas

"The two actually don't go along very well," said Marianne.

"Who? Dr. D and Dr. Koebner?" asked Thomas

"Yeah," answered Marianne with a little chuckle. "It seems that Dr. Koebner knows a heck of a lot more about organoids than Dr. D does. But he doesn't go bragging about it. It's funny, 'coz Dr. Koebner's not the competitive type, and he really doesn't mind if he works alongside someone more knowledgeable than him. Still, Dr. D's ego couldn't take it apparently. That's probably the reason why he resigned from the project and concentrated more on ancient Zoidian civilization instead."

"And they think I'm immature," said Thomas in a low tone, actually amused at the thought of Dr. D quitting over a reason as petty as that. "I know Dr. Koebner's been here already for about four months or so. Does Dr. D know he's here?"

"I don't know," answered Marianne, shrugging her shoulders. "But if they meet each other again, I want to see the look on Dr. D's face. It'll be priceless!"

Thomas was surprised to see himself laughing out loud at the thought. They both got up from where they were sitting and started walking back to the daycare.

"I plan to pay Dr. Koebner a visit this afternoon," said Thomas as he wiped off the moist that formed in his eyes from laughing.

Marianne grinned languidly, eyeing him from the side of her head. "Hmm? Why so? Still not convinced that he isn't a spy so you just have to walk into his office, pose as someone needing his advise, and try to wheedle information out of him? Forget it, Thomas. He's a psychologist. He'll see through you in a second."

"Uh," said Thomas, blushing and slightly taken aback. "Uh… well… it's just that…"

"It's alright, I understand," giggled Marianne. "You're hoping to discuss this emotional turmoil of yours with someone who's unbiased, as opposed to myself. Obviously you can't talk about your lovesickness for Fiona with Van or Irvine or your brother, so Dr. Koebner is the closest thing to neutral ground. Am I right?"

"Um, maybe… perhaps," said Thomas still blushing.

."Mm-hmm?" said Marianne, raising one of her eyebrows.

"Alright! So you got me!" exclaimed Thomas. "Now that you've somehow cleared any suspicion I have about this Koebner guy, especially when you mentioned that he and Dr. D don't go along pretty well, I thought I might give letting my guard down a try. Maybe he might help me deal with my issues properly."

"Good for you, Thomas," said Marianne. Finally, they reached the entrance of the daycare. There, they found the head instructor reading a story while the children gathered around her, listening intently.

"Y'know, this place is quite close to the Red River Base," said Thomas. "I know there wasn't a single attack on the base since you started the daycare. But what if…? Would it be putting these kids in harm's way?"

"Not to worry, Thomas," reassured Marianne. "I've thought about that. Come on in."

She took Thomas' hand and led him inside the daycare center. It was just then when they were inside that the head instructor finished the story she was reading to the youngsters.

Marianne then rounded up the children. "Alright, kids, gather around. We're going to practice the emergency drill again, OK? We'll start on the count of three. One… two… three!"

The head instructor saw Marianne's signal, and placidly pressed open a small latch built in the front wall of the room, and pushed a bright red button. The children then filed up into two lines. This was followed by the appearance of an entrance on the classroom floor, with stairs leading to some sort of underground shelter; the children then hurried in an orderly fashion down the entrance. At the same time, a hologram screen popped up, which flashed the word 'warning.' After a few seconds, the phrase 'Stealth mode engaged' appeared. Outside, shutters (which Thomas presumed to be made of titanium) came cascading down mechanically, surrounding the small vicinity where the daycare stood. Emergency lights then lit up from inside. After all the children had reached the shelter below, the head instructor followed, then Marianne and the lieutenant.

"Pretty cool, huh?" said Marianne. "I've thought of everything beforehand. Right now, the whole daycare facility is invisible if you're looking at it from the outside. That's because I had stealth technology installed."

As everyone settled inside the space below, Thomas looked around. He noted that the underground shelter was provided with all the necessary facilities; it was also stocked with necessities that would last months in case any attack would escalate to an all-out war.

"You see," said Marianne. "This daycare center was really started to provide protection to these children in case the unthinkable happens. Not only the children of those working in the Red River Base are included in this. There are also passages from neighboring villages leading into this underground space."

Thomas was just speechless with wonder and admiration. This was an aspect of his friend Marianne that he has never seen before… something other than being the Guylos Empire's mistress of matchmaking.

"At least this assures you that the people's tax money is put to good use," continued Marianne. "Then again, my beloved Rudolph doesn't need to prove to anyone that he's doing a splendid job in governing the Empire."

"Of course, of course," answered a smiling Thomas with entire sincerity. "Emperor Rudolph has my full trust!"

The friendly exchange continued on for about another hour, with Thomas asking the Emperor's fiancée about other things she has been up to lately besides matchmaking, and of course, Marianne providing the lieutenant with some useful tips that would guarantee to 'capture a woman's heart' (or so she believed they would work as such). Thomas even took part in some of the children's games, though with some hesitance at first. In the midst of all the frivolity, Marianne clearly noticed the life coming back in the lieutenant's expressions as he went on playing with the children. She was glad to see that the gloomy, downhearted Thomas Schubaltz from early this afternoon was no longer there, at least for now. She wondered that perhaps a fresh reminder of the carefreeness of childhood was all that Thomas needed to pick up his mood.

Finally, time came to say their goodbyes. Thomas got a good luck wish from Marianne. He even got a kiss from the little girl he helped out earlier. The rest of the afternoon that followed was quite uneventful, except that Thomas felt a lot better because his eagerness to work on his A.I. Beek and his faithful DiBison was regenerated, considering the fact that this has been part of his daily routine since a few years back when he first attained his zoid.

Thomas was in the cockpit doing the daily compulsory synchronizations of Beek with the DiBison when he heard voices from below. It was hard to distinguish how many there was at first because of the inexorable bleeping sounds Beek made during the synchronization process, but when the necessary calculations were done, he could clearly hear that there were three people talking down below.

Listening closely to the timbre of the three distinct voices he was hearing, he recognized that it came from Van, Irvine, and Karl. From the sound of it, it didn't seem like they were having a casual chat; it was more of a briefing, probably going over instructions and things to do in preparation for another mission to who knows where. Knowing that, he dare not look out the cockpit for fear the three might spot him eavesdropping. He could not even crack the cockpit canopy open a bit because of the noise it would make. Because of that, he couldn't make out a single word of what they were saying.

Just when Thomas thought he could end the day keeping that same happy feeling he found while he was spending time at the daycare center with the nosey yet dependable Marianne and the enjoyably rambunctious children, something like this just had to come up to remind him that he was on probation. After a few minutes, Van and Irvine climbed into the cockpits of their respective zoids, and started their engines, just as Thomas expected. In no time, they were out of the hangar.

Thomas climbed down his DiBison only to see Karl still facing the horizon outside the hangar. After a few moments, the colonel turned and started walking back in. It was generally impossible for anyone to see through Karl's stern, monotonous aura. But this time however, Thomas noticed that the expression on his face seemed somewhat apprehensive. About what in particular, the lieutenant couldn't tell, whether if it's because of the gravity of the mission he just assigned Van Fleiheit and Irvine to, or if it was something else.

Still, Thomas wanted to know why he wasn't informed of any of this when he could be easily reached through his communicator. He felt as if this was done on purpose, as if he no longer has the Guardian Force's trust.

An opportunity for confrontation didn't come readily, especially in a place the lieutenant deemed conducive. He didn't want such an opportunity to get away, so he figured he'd just have to risk everything. It was then when Karl walked just past the DiBison, not noticing Thomas standing behind one of its front legs.

"Hey, how's it goin', big bro?" asked Thomas plainly, leaning against one of what was supposed to be the DiBison's metallic front hooves, his arms folded across of his chest. A startled Karl turned back in haste to see who it was that greeted him.

"Oh, it's you, Thomas," said Karl. "I didn't see you there."

Thomas shifted his gaze from the floor towards his older brother. "I just saw Van and Irvine leave with their zoids. They left quite in a rush, I might say."

A stern look started to appear on Karl's face. His sharp emerald-green gaze started to send a chill down the lieutenant's spine. Thomas knew he had to stand his ground, so he did his best to fight off his older brother's nerve-racking aura and hide the intimidation he was feeling.

"So… any idea where they might have gone to?" Thomas asked, trying to sound as slyly as possible.

"You better watch your tone, lieutenant," said Karl through clenched teeth in a calm yet threatening tone.

"There's no need for formalities, bro," said Thomas. "There's just the two of us here. I just want to know where Van and Irvine went, and why they left in a hurry."

"I don't know," snapped Karl. "Maybe they're with Dr. D…"

"I think you know, Karl," said Thomas, annoyed at the idea of his older brother lying to his face.

"How long have you been standing there behind the DiBison?" asked Karl, eyeing his younger brother suspiciously.

"Long enough to figure out that you guys have been keeping things from me," answered Thomas. "Now, tell me! Where have Van and Irvine gone to?"

"It doesn't concern you, Thomas."

"Oh, c'mon Karl!" retorted the lieutenant. "It doesn't concern _me_? You've got to do better than that, bro."

"Thomas…" started Karl, absolutely taken aback by Thomas' unexpected insubordination.

"I'm as much a member of the Guardian Force as those other two are," continued Thomas. "I may not get along well with that Irvine guy, but if there are things to be done that concerns keeping the peace, all three of us do it together. At least give me an honest answer, as your brother, why the plan's suddenly changed. As much as you people are trying to hide it from me, I know Van and Irvine have been out on missions without me. I know you know why I'm being kept on a short leash around here lately. I want to know the _real_ reason for that… straight from _you_! Do you trust them more than me?"

Karl continued looking sternly at his younger brother. "I trust you, Thomas. I trust you when it comes to computer skills and know-how…"

"It's funny, hearing that from you…" interrupted Thomas, shaking his head slightly.

"Don't get smug with me, Thomas!"

"You keep telling me how desperately dependent I am on my machines!"

"That is true, and I mean it," said Karl unwaveringly. "When it comes to military strategy…"

The colonel stopped in mid-sentence, and again looked at Thomas, who stared back with eyes having the same emerald green hue as his. Somehow, the lieutenant knew where the whole conversation was going.

"You sound just like Herman," said Thomas disdainfully.

"Computer simulations aren't the same as the real thing, Thomas," said Karl.

"Oh?" exclaimed Thomas cynically. "So my military experience on the field these past four years doesn't mean a damn thing?"

"Inasmuch as you hate to admit it…" answered Karl, "…you just don't have it in you, Thomas. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about, Karl?" asked Thomas, astounded. "I may have the slowest zoid, but when something goes wrong out there, in a lot of instances I end up saving Van's ass!"

"Almost frying yours in the process," replied the colonel angrily.

"Is this about the whole Mount Isolina incident?" asked Thomas.

"Partly," relied Karl. "You may think you've become a great problem solver who can break any deadlock that comes your way on the battle field. I'm afraid a lot of superior officers view your actions as being carried out with utter carelessness."

"So I guess it doesn't help me if I told you that I realized I become quick-thinking in tight situations?" asked Thomas. "C'mon, Karl! It's a war situation. It's not like I planned these things to happen. You of all people should understand that!"

"That's exactly the problem!" said Karl. "You don't plan at all! You just charge in without at least coordinating with your other teammates. You're lucky to still be alive."

"W-wha…?" exclaimed Thomas, flabbergasted at what he just heard. "How the hell can I…?" He thought on how difficult it was to coordinate with his other team members, given that all of them see him as the weakest link.

"Even in tight situations, you should always squeeze in a few seconds to plan out… quickly inform your teammates about what you're about to do, so they could act accordingly," rejoined Karl firmly. "Unfortunately, you fail to do such. If you think you've a newfound ability of quick-thinking, you're seriously mistaken, Thomas!"

"Now wait just a second here," said Thomas, getting more aggravated. "So when it's Van who pulls stunts…"

"Let me remind you, Thomas, that the Dibison's purpose is to bring on heavy-duty artillery and is never useful for its speed, unlike the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix," cut in Karl. "Aside from having good leadership skills, Van knows his Blade Liger well… both it's feel and it's movement. He knows it very well that it seems both of them are one whenever they ride off. That's why I'm not worried if Van tries to do the impossible. As for Irvine, though he's been a mercenary, he's as experienced in combat as any well-trained soldier can be. That's probably why he's the right man to tame the Lightning Saix."

"What are you insinuating? That I'm not really needed in this whole outfit?"

"You tend to limit yourself by relying heavily on your gadgets. With that, to tell you frankly, it'll be difficult for you to take on what Van and Irvine can. As a superior officer, and as your brother, I don't think you're ready for a better zoid, other than what you have right now."

"How do you know?"

"How do _I _know? As I recall, you keep knocking yourself senseless out there if not landing yourself frequently in the hospital wing!"

"There they go again, digging up my past mistakes," thought Thomas. He couldn't think of anything best to say in response to his brother's last comment. It quickly became apparent that there's nothing else to say that would help him save face this time.

"If you want to know that badly… yes, Van and Irvine have gone out on a mission," continued Karl. "You've got what you wanted to know. The details of that mission are not your concern."

With that, the colonel turned his back and walked away.

"I know you feel bad right now, Thomas," thought Karl as he continued walking toward the hangar exit. "This isn't entirely my idea, and believe me if I told you this isn't wholly to my liking. You're a good person, Thomas. It's better that you're angry at me this way, thinking what you're thinking right now, than for you to think that I'm being an overprotective brother. In that way, at least I won't be taking away your dignity."

In the meantime, Thomas stared at the hangar floor, standing motionless where he is. At that point in time, the tired absurdities that had been going around all became an unrecognizable blur. In exasperation, the only phrase he could think of to say to himself now is: "What have I been doing here all along?"

He slowly looked up to his towering DiBison, placed a hand on the metallic hoof he leaned on a while back, and despairingly said, "What have _we_ been doing here all along?"

Chapter 6 coming soon.


	6. Chapter VI

_This is by far the longest chapter I've ever written. Phew!_

_Again, I don't own Zoids or its characters… just Konrad Koebner. And while I'm at it… still NO yaoi._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER VI **

"Hello, Konrad. How are things going so far?" came a recognizable female voice from the hologram screen. Dr. Koebner eased back on his chair in his office, room 402 in the fourth wing of the Red River Base, to answer the query.

"These past four months have been quite uneventful, Madame President… y'know, the usual stuff," answered Dr. Koebner plainly, almost blandly. In the hologram screen, President Camford's image smiled amusingly at the psychologist's reply; she thought back on his previous line of work before he was invited to be a mainstay at the base.

"Not seeing much action there, I presume," came her response. "I can tell from the tone of your voice that you're not exactly having the time of your life right now."

"I wouldn't say that," said Dr. Koebner, staring back at the holo-screen with a sanguine gaze. "I manage to take on things that turn out to be of some interest to me, inane as a few of them might be. I'd be lying, though, if I said I didn't miss research one bit."

President Camford chuckled at Dr. Koebner's statement, as the latter simply smiled and reached for a ceramic pot just about full of freshly brewed coffee, poured himself a mug, and put in three hefty tablespoonfuls of sugar afterwards.

"You sure do like you coffee really sweet," commented Camford as she observed how the psychologist prepared the caffeinated beverage to his liking.

"What can I say? Sugar makes me happy…" replied Dr. Koebner, still smiling, while adding a spot of cream to his coffee as a finishing touch. "…Aside from doing research work on zoids, that is. Speaking of which, how's my rookie replacement doing?"

"He's finding his way, that I can say," said Madame President. "It's quite tough for a fresh university graduate to fill in the shoes of someone like you. For a rookie, though, he seems to be picking up quite well where you dropped off."

"Reminds me of myself, back to the time when I first started out," reminisced Dr. Koebner as he brought his ultrasweet coffee-filled mug to his lips to take a sip. "I'm sure he'll do fine."

"Your calmness is very reassuring," said Camford. "I've got to hand it to you… you have a good intuition when it comes to finding out how people behave. That's why I recommended you for this job… which brings me back to 'how are things going so far.'"

Dr. Koebner deposited his mug on the desk in front of him, and let out a deep sigh. "I've been dealing mostly with grief issues lately… men and women who lost loved ones during the war, having a really hard time moving on with their lives."

He then stood and walked towards one of the airtight glass windows. He stared at the horizon as the sun began setting over the western mountains. "Having a good intuition has its downside too," he continued. "You inadvertently feel other people's pain as you go on dissecting their anamneses. But it's a great consolation for me to see that I could help them deal with their grief in any way I can."

President Camford remained quiet on the other end of the line, as a sympathetic gesture. Somehow, her silence likewise meant she was waiting for a specific answer… the reason why she called up Dr. Koebner in the first place. Koebner, as expected, sensed the implied sympathy, and quickly understood what Camford's silence entailed.

He looked back at the holo-screen, and said, "I've also identified four individuals whom I find rather interesting. They're intelligent, and all are very dedicated to their work (though it doesn't show at times)… and do a very good job at it, I might add. They're very nice people, too… each with his or her own stories to tell. It's sad, though, for them to be considered by many as not being exactly good looking by human standards, which they're fully aware of. By spending enough time with them, you'd clearly see that they're mostly surviving in a society that puts a lot of importance on trivialities. Of course, it wasn't at all their choice to be looked at in that way."

"Forgive me for asking," interjected Madame Camford. "But despite this, they somehow find some meaning at least in their present line of work… do they?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Koebner sadly. "Unfortunately, it has become too routine for them… merely a means among others to get them through the day without being consumed by their angst."

"Any hang-ups in particular? For instance, about how they look?" asked Camford.

"It's not really an issue of hang-ups," corrected Koebner. "These waters appear to run deeper than that."

"I see," replied Camford, slightly apologetic with her tone.

"No harm done," said Koebner with a smile. "They deal with their depression really well, let alone hide it. You'd never think they once frequently entertained suicidal ideations. If you ask me, they're quite extraordinary to my standards… going on through life without being eaten up by whatever it is that's bothering their psyches. They've strong fighting spirits, and have made a lot of progress. For that alone, I'm truly proud of them."

Dr. Koebner then walked back to his desk and took out leaves of paper fastened into four transparent folders from one of its drawers. "It's rather difficult to narrate each one's tales in one sitting, but you can read them all here. It may take some time before I finish the initial reports of their progress, but I'll send you copies as soon as I'm done. I can assure you that."

"Thank you, Konrad," said President Camford. "It's too bad, though, we're one person short."

"I'll find that person," reassured Dr. Koebner. "I'm sure there's another one out there who'd benefit a lot from what we're planning on starting."

"OK…" rejoined Camford. She noticed, however, a hint of unrest in Dr. Koebner's tone, and couldn't help but ask, "Is there something bothering you?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," answered Dr. Koebner candidly. "I'm not too comfortable divulging matters like these and discussing them with non-psychologists without the knowledge and permission of those involved. No offense, Madame President. You'll just have to forgive me for that; it's an idiosyncrasy of mine. Personally, I'd feel like a lab rat if I were in their place."

"I know, Konrad," said Madame Camford. "I'm sorry. I understand completely. As you've known, I've been there myself and I know what it's like and how it's supposed to be. But I'm afraid it's the only way we'll be able to find out who are at risk. Don't worry. Rest assured whatever is discussed with me stays with me."

This earned her a genuine gentle smile from the psychologist. "Thank you, Madame President."

Just then, a knock on the door was heard. "I believe someone's in need of your help right now," said President Camford good-humoredly. Dr. Koebner chuckled as he returned the files he was holding a while ago back into its respective drawer. He straightened himself up to meet the person outside, and politely said, "Excuse me, Madame President."

"Of course," rejoined Madame Camford. "Until then, Konrad. Thank you." With that, the holo-screen disappeared. Dr. Koebner then walked to the door and opened it to let in the person who was knocking.

"Hello, Thomas," greeted the psychologist calmly, sounding as if he was actually expecting the newcomer to visit his office. Thomas' face was mask-like and undemonstrative, however. He simply nodded at the greeting and entered the room shortly after Dr. Koebner gestured him to come in.

"Please do sit down," Dr. Koebner offered, pouring another cup of coffee. "I presume you've been relieved of your duties for now."

"Hmph, I guess you can say that," answered Thomas apathetically, feeling as if there was some kind of double meaning to what Dr. Koebner just said.

"Young people like you usually go out to the nearest town at this time to have some fun or a few drinks with buddies when they're off duty…" said Dr. Koebner as he handed Thomas the cup of coffee. "…And not stay behind in a boring old office such as this."

"I quit drinking a long time ago," said Thomas, staring purposelessly at the cup in his hands. "Stupid, pointless habit… drinking. Who'd be stupid enough to not realize that alcohol's a poison that kills slowly… as slowly as it likes?"

Dr. Koebner simply smiled. "That's good," he said. "Don't take it wrongly, but I've got a great regard for people who don't drink. It doesn't make a guy less of a man if he doesn't imbibe alcohol."

"Yeah, girls dig a guy who wouldn't take a swig," said Thomas derisively.

Dr. Koebner simply cast him a gentle gaze, smiled again, and poured himself another cup of coffee. Thomas immediately felt something sinking in his chest after realizing the sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I-I'm really sorry," said Thomas as he shook his head apologetically. "You didn't deserve that."

"No worries, Thomas," answered Dr. Koebner reassuringly. "Clearly, you're angry, and you couldn't help but express your anger at that moment."

Thomas slumped back on his chair with palms over his eyes and gave out a rather miserable sigh. On seeing this, Dr. Koebner put his cup of coffee back down on the desk and pulled something out of one of its drawers. "Hey, Thomas… catch!" he said, as he threw that something toward the lieutenant. Thomas just had enough time for his eyes to focus after taking his hands off them; seeing that the flying object was about to hit his face, he swiftly caught it precisely with one hand.

"Nice catch! You've got quick reflexes," complemented the psychologist, as a flabbergasted Thomas examined the item he caught in his hand. "It's a chocolate bar," he continued. "Eat it. You'll feel better, trust me."

"Uh… thanks," said Thomas, still with a surprised look on his face.

"Y'know, it's not so common for men to come by my office," began Dr. Koebner as Thomas helped himself with the chocolate bar. "Most men have got an issue of maintaining this so-called 'tough-guy image.' I guess you'd expect that kind of thinking from soldiers. They'd rather be caught dead than be seen along with shrinks like me… just as I'm with you right now."

"What does it matter, anyway?" said Thomas. "People can think whatever they want." Suddenly, the tone of his voice went softer. "It's funny… 'Coz as a matter of fact, I… I don't seem to care about anything else anymore. It seems my image here's been tainted bad for a long time already. It's making me tired just dwelling on it." After that was a long silence.

"What has made you come by my office, Thomas? What is it that's _really_ bothering you?" finally came Dr. Koebner's appeasing query.

"I… I-I don't…" stammered Thomas, eyeing the psychologist rather suspiciously.

"It's just me and you and this boring office… no bugs or wires about," said Dr. Koebner.

"I… it's stupid. Believe me, it's just going to sound silly… nothing more than another of Lieutenant Schubaltz's trivial resentments… it's stupid…" reasoned the lieutenant.

"These issues you're dealing with… how then could these all be stupid and trivial if it's bothering you this much?" asked the psychologist. This was followed again by another interval of absolute silence.

"How do I know I could trust you?" finally spoke a weary Thomas as he threw Dr. Koebner a probing glance.

"Here." Dr. Koebner then approached the lieutenant and handed him another chocolate bar. Thomas was surprised to see himself reach out his hand to receive the item without hesitation; with that, somehow he got the answer to his question. With the chocolate bar in his hands, he stared aimlessly at the floor, trying his best to keep a stiff upper lip.

Thomas finally found himself thrown into a predicament… a 'damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't' situation. He had so much turmoil in his mind for so long that he could no longer find a way to vent it all out. The unrest was so colossal to him that even tinkering with his gadgets didn't help anymore. Thoughts of him being madly in love with Fiona are so sacred to him that he'd be headstrong to bring it all to the grave… to keep those thoughts sealed in him right down to the end.

But then again, he wanted so much to talk about his fears and doubts, hopes and dreams, but was so terrified to do so, for fear that no one would listen… that no one would understand… that no one would take him seriously… that everyone within earshot would just laugh at him… that everyone would simply view his conflicts as one big farce.

But whom can he trust? Keeping it all to himself would absolutely drive him crazy, while opening up on the other hand was not at all an option for him. Letting everything out was an invitation to large-scale humiliation… or so he thought… at least until now, when here came along a middle-aged man who vaguely reminded him of his father, reaching out a guiding hand to help him step into the light.

"Anytime you're ready, kid," said Dr. Koebner with the same gentle smile on his face.

After hearing this, Thomas' vision started becoming misty. In time, tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, unwittingly at that. But instead of uttering with sobs, words fell out clearly from the lieutenant's mouth:

"You want to hear my story?" He then gave out a long sigh. "Well, here it is. My name is Thomas Richard Schubaltz. I've a rank of First Lieutenant serving under the Guardian Force. I specialize at computer technology and engineering. It's something that comes natural to me… but despite this talent of mine, it's taking me nowhere."

He began toying the chocolate bars uncomfortably in his hands as he continued… "Despite countless deeds to redeem myself, even with things I'm not at all good at, I… I'll never be recognized the way I want. Truth is, I'll never be recognized _at all_. To others… and even to colleagues I work with… I'll be nothing more than a mere unenterprising joke, as if my sole purpose for being here is to be everyone's laughing stock. And I… I-I HATE THEM FOR THAT!"

Thomas stopped dead on his tracks. He couldn't believe what he just heard himself say. It was not like him to speak that way, let alone raise his voice in a dark and threatening manner. Just then, he noticed a wet feeling on that back of his hand. He touched his face and realized that his cheeks were also moist; tears have already rolled out of his eyes without him knowing it. He quickly wiped them off with his sleeve, and looked back at Dr. Koebner, fearful that he might have noticed that instance of weakness on his part. But instead, the only scene he saw was that of the psychologist calmly standing there, keeping his same sanguine and nonjudgmental gaze, and listening intently.

"Ha ha ha!" chuckled Thomas awkwardly as he raised his hand to massage his forehead and temples. "I never imagined myself saying that,… no… never. Maybe that's just one of those things you thought you weren't capable of doing. I guess I was just too afraid to admit that I could hate people this much. It's said that virtue is its own reward, but I don't think I can sustain my virtues any longer… Arrgh! Damn it! What am I saying? I brought this on myself anyway!"

"How so?" asked Dr. Koebner. Thomas, however, gave him a surprised wide-eyed look. He's listening… he's actually listening, the lieutenant thought to himself.

"I-I was a rather temperamental person when I first started out…" answered Thomas. "I guess maybe it had something to do with the pressure of having to live up to my older brother's expectations… maybe you've heard of him… Colonel Karl Lichen Schubaltz?"

"Yes, I have," said Dr. Koebner. "So he's your brother. That explains the striking resemblance."

"Yeah, but I'm afraid that's as far as similarities go," said Thomas. "Believe me, I'm proud of him, 'coz he's one of a kind… someone I've always looked up to. But I just couldn't get myself to be like him."

"Everyone is special in his or her own way, Thomas," said Dr. Koebner.

"I know," answered Thomas. "At my age, it still took me a lot of time before I could fully grasp the concept of what you said. I guess I was able to realize the error of my ways in time. I started becoming nicer… and started trying to be my own person… but clearly that didn't do me any good either."

"But being a part of the Imperial Army, and the Guardian Force for that matter… this isn't something you were coerced into joining?" asked the psychologist tactfully.

"Absolutely not," said Thomas confidently. "That has been one of my life's dreams!"

"I see," said Dr. Koebner. "So aside from being a computer engineer and a Guardian Force official, you don't see yourself doing something other than that?"

"I don't see myself doing anything else other than the things I love to do," said Thomas. His voice became softer again. "Y'know, it's _really_ hard being your own person. You can't help but notice at times how others can make you feel you're dispensable… like… like your role in this whole setup is not at all that vital… like it doesn't mean a damn thing if you're in or not. Sometimes, I can't help but think if being who I am today is worth it at all."

"It seems like you haven't had things easy for you," sympathized Dr. Koebner.

"I don't know… but it sure felt like it," articulated Thomas wearily. "I think what you just said doesn't apply to me really. I'm not exactly a typecast heroic for one to say I've been living a rough life."

"Have you ever thought of resigning from the Force, though?" continued Dr. Koebner.

"Yes," said Thomas. "A good number of times."

"But you're still here," said Dr. Koebner. "For someone who wants to be his own person but is forced to hide what's inside his heart… and for someone who thinks he's nowhere near being valiant, I might add… I think you've got nerves of steel to put up with all the criticism."

"You're too kind to give me that complement, Doc," said Thomas modestly, while staring at the view of the sun finally setting over the western mountains through the airtight glass window.

"I mean it, kid," said Dr. Koebner. "Psychological wounds heal so much slower than physical ones… and it takes a lot of courage and willpower to be where you are now."

Thomas smiled (somewhat contentedly) as he shifted his gaze from the window to the chocolate bars in his hands. Somehow, after a very long time, he finally heard what he wanted to hear. "I guess you're right, in a way," he finally said with an almost inaudible voice. "Yeah… still here… alive and kicking… if you could call it that."

The lieutenant heeded Dr. Koebner's advice to take another bite out of one of the chocolate bars he received a while back. To his surprise, he did feel a bit better afterwards.

"I had my first real assignment about four years back when I was tasked to go check out a nearby town where there were some people claiming to be Republicans who insisted that there had been frequent attacks headed by someone I later learned to be Hiltz, along with his fiery red organoid. I was positive that there was no verification of troops being sent to that area. No one told me likewise that our joint governments sent out someone else to work alongside me."

"Who was it?" queried Dr. Koebner. "Maybe I've heard of that person, too."

"Van Fleiheit," answered Thomas indistinctly. "The kid who stopped the war between the Empire and the Republic. He's everyone's hero. Yeah… I'm pretty sure you've heard of him."

"Well, I guess it's an honor to work with someone as high-profiled as him," said Dr. Koebner.

Instead of getting an answer, the psychologist saw a goaded Thomas again staring outside the window. The former pulled out a chair and seated himself down so that this time, his eyes can be at the same level as Thomas'.

"I presume you don't agree with me on that," said Dr. Koebner, sensing the jealousy given away by the lieutenant's silence. He could clearly see Thomas' hands curl up into fists.

"Please reserve your judgment for later," interjected Thomas. "Just like Karl, Van's another one I wanted so much to be like. It's like he has it all. He's the cool guy… and next to him, I'd look like the nerd. I consider him my friend… even though I'm so often compared to him in many aspects… with me losing out to him, of course. To be teamed up with him seemed to mean that I couldn't be trusted to do my job properly. Many superior officers would comment on why a 'goofball like me' had been picked out to work together with Van when they could have found a 'much better replacement.' Putting Irvine in the picture, I'd feel like the slapstick sidekick. Even Karl thinks I'm difficult to work with. Those were among the reasons why I had doubts on whether or not being a member of the Guardian Force was the right thing for me to pursue in the first place.

"But then I met this wonderful woman… truly an angel. Fell in love with her the first time I saw her. I then thought, hell… it doesn't matter anymore. At least I've got a good reason to stay. But whether it was love or just an infatuation, all the same, it was left unrequited. I tried harder to get her to notice me, or to give her a chance to know who I am… but it's hopeless. Guess I couldn't take a hint back then… so I had to learn through the hard way that she only has feelings for the same person I've always wanted to be like… the same person I'm too proud to admit I'm jealous of… Van Fleiheit!"

Thomas was so surprised that he even volunteered talking about his love interest. He started to blush furiously… but he thought, what's the use… it's all out in the open now. He slowly buried his face in his hands to hide his eyes, which started to burn with tears yearning to come out. He wanted it to look like he was just tired, but Dr. Koebner knew better. He moved nearer to Thomas and placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "That must have topped it all. Others may not see it, but you surely live a challenging yet interesting life. But when was the last time you screamed out your frustrations?"

"What are you talking about?" Thomas asked, with face still buried in his hands.

"When was the last time you cried or screamed your heart out because life has been unfair to you?"

"I don't know… maybe in a long time now… or maybe never," Thomas plainly answered.

"Well, now's your chance," said Dr. Koebner enticingly. "The door and windows are airtight, so you don't have to worry about other people hearing you."

Thomas quickly got up, with eyes still tightly closed; he hurled the crumpled plastic wrappers in his hand violently across the room, and screamed out his loudest and most primeval scream.

"AAAAH! Why? Why won't… why won't you see me for who I am, Fiona? I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART, but don't I mean anything at all to you? I guess risking my life going into space didn't mean a damn thing either!"

With that, he fell on his knees sobbing maniacally, punching the concrete floor until it was stained with his blood. Dr. Koebner thought it best not to intervene until Thomas was done; he was confident enough that a few bleeding knuckles was the most damage the lieutenant would do to himself for now.

Sure enough, Thomas stopped. He remained kneeling on the floor, chest heaving and blood oozing slowly from his hands. Dr. Koebner likewise knelt down to look Thomas in the eye.

"Feeling better," the psychologist asked.

"Lots," answered Thomas.

"We'd better have a look at those hands," said Dr. Koebner afterwards.

Soon afterwards, Thomas was seated beside the desk, with bandages being applied on his hands. The expression on his face was however calmer after he had the chance to blow off steam in quite a primitive manner.

"I still believe in love, though… even if it's hurting me now," he said as Dr. Koebner was securing the bandages.

"How do you feel now about being a member of the Guardian Force?" probed the psychologist as he just about finished dressing Thomas' injured knuckles.

"Still the best job there is for me, I guess," answered Thomas.

Dr. Koebner took a few pauses before asking: "Do you hate yourself?"

"I don't know… maybe," Thomas answered calmly with a poignant smile while examining his bandaged hands. "I guess it's another one of those things I'm too afraid to admit."

"Let me offer some advice before you go," said Dr. Koebner, his tone sounding a tad firmer. To Thomas, he sounded like he wasn't going to pull any punches this time. "Lighten up a bit. People may not choose to see you the way you want, _or_ you may feel that others – even colleagues – pull you down often. It's part of their own free will how they think or feel about others. But let me tell you this: as long as you believe in yourself, the world's your oyster. You'll find ways to overcome even the highest obstacles. You feel weak because you _choose_ to feel weak.

"You may not realize it, but despite everything, you still have a tendency to please other people. How about thinking for yourself for once? Instead of thinking so much about your duties, why not start questioning the purpose of your existence? Start questioning if you are really needed where you are right now, and if you can be of better use somewhere else. I know following orders is expected of a soldier, and it's definitely going to land you in a lot of trouble if you actually voiced this out to your superiors. You may not find your answers right away. In the future, you'll start to understand what it all really means… as long as you're honest with yourself. Whenever starting something new, quit thinking if you're in for more embarrassment or disappointment. Keep your eyes and mind open for opportunities that present themselves along the way.

"And as for Fiona, don't be too obsessed with her. Better yet, try to get over her. Clearly she's not returning every feeling you show her now, and I bet she probably never will. Again, keep your eyes open. Everyone is bound to be loved at one point in his or her life. You'll be surprised to find that your female soul mate may just be lurking around even in the most unexpected of places."

With these words, Thomas' eyes began to sparkle with new hope. "Thanks for the advice," he said, with confidence creeping back into his grin. "But I'm not giving up on Fiona just yet. She never really had the chance to know me… remember?"

"Suit yourself, kid," said Dr. Koebner, smiling his usual serene smile. "I'm only here to give you advice. Whether you'll heed them or not is your choice. But given a man of your intelligence, I'm confident you'll make the right ones."

"It's funny," said Thomas. "You somehow remind me of my father. I lost him when I was just eight years old. What I remember of him is this big magnificent man who always put my mom, my brother and me first before himself. It was just devastating when I learned he was killed while serving in the line of duty. For me, he's the real hero."

"I'm flattered, Thomas," said Dr. Koebner smiling.

"There's another thing, though," said Thomas a bit sheepishly. "I kinda thought you were some spy working for an underground government."

Dr. Koebner laughed heartily. "A spy, you say?"

"Yeah, I'm really sorry," said Thomas apologetically.

"Again, no worries, kid," reassure Dr. Koebner. "That's perhaps the first enjoyable thing I've heard since I left university. Sorry if I gave you that impression. I've been here roughly four months now. If I were a spy, I would have struck a long time ago. You're a smart guy. You've actually figured me out."

"How?" asked a puzzled Thomas.

"Well, you opened yourself up because you know you could trust me. You wouldn't do that to a real spy now, would you?"

Thomas blushed again unexpectedly. "You're right… I guess not," he said.

Goodbyes were exchanged, and soon thereafter, Thomas left Dr. Koebner's office. As soon as the door was closed, Dr. Koebner immediately turned on the holo-screen again.

"Hello again, Konrad," greeted President Camford. "That's two calls in a day. There must be something good that's come up."

"Indeed, there is, Madame President," said Dr. Koebner. "I think I've found our fifth member."

For the moment… outside, we spot Fiona and Moonbay looking something up on one of the update boards situated all over the Red River Base. Seemingly, all the other bulletin boards in the other wings of the base were swarmed by cadet privates on duty for the night that the two ladies thought of going to a relatively quieter, less crowded zone such as the fourth wing to take a better look at this memo without being shoved around by other onlookers.

"So, what d'you think of it?" asked Moonbay.

"It looks inviting," commented Fiona. "I'm sure it's something Van or Irvine would be interested in joining."

"Yeah, probably… y'know how those two are," said Moonbay.

Fiona giggled lightly at Moonbay's remark. Just then, over Fiona's shoulder, Moonbay spotted someone a good number of meters back exiting one of the doors… the one that has '402' on it.

"Hey, isn't that Thomas?" asked Moonbay.

"Huh? Where?" Fiona then turned around and spotted a lanky figure walking opposite to their direction. "Hmm, that sure looks like Thomas. Why don't we call him over to show th…"

"No, no… don't bother," Moonbay said hurriedly, apparently remembering the incident she had with the lieutenant a few days back; she seemingly abandoned all plans of apologizing to him. "Besides, he's a bit far off already."

"That's strange," observed Fiona, as she and Moonbay started going towards the door Thomas walked out of. "I don't recall Thomas frequenting this part of the base."

"Jeez, why can't he just get over himself," muttered Moonbay under her breath.

"Hmm? What do you mean, Moonbay?" asked Fiona naively.

Moonbay gazed at Fiona in amazement. "It looks like you can't hide anything from an ancient Zoidian. I'm surprised, though, that you haven't noticed it until now."

"Noticed what?" asked Fiona, bewilderment starting to form in her expressions.

"Fiona, Fiona… how can you be so clueless?" said Moonbay brashly while leisurely shaking her head. "_Thomas is in love with you!_"

With that, Fiona's eyes widened in astonishment and disbelief. She then looked towards the direction Thomas took earlier, only to find that he wasn't there anymore.

"Well, here we are," said Moonbay. She then read aloud what was engraved on the door. "Konrad Koebner, 402. Who the heck is he? Fiona?"

Apparently, Fiona was still in a confused trail of thought.

"Hey, Fiona! Planet Zi to Fiona…"

"What? What is it?" asked a bemused Fiona, signifying that Moonbay finally got through to her. In return, Moonbay looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "Look, getting all worked up on a doofus like him isn't worth it, y'know!"

"I'm sorry. If my memory serves me right, I think Konrad Koebner's a psychologist whom Rudolph invited over to work on organoid behavior a few months back," said Fiona, evidently back to her previous disposition.

"Psychologist?" exclaimed Moonbay. She went over what Fiona just said; her eyes lightened up mischievously when she realized that the words 'psychologist' and 'organoid' were used in the same sentence. 'This ought to be interesting,' she thought.

"No wonder he's always so overly courteous… all this time…" said Fiona softly to herself, thinking back concernedly at Thomas. "But what was he doing with someone like Dr. Koebner?"

Just then, a familiar voice called out to Moonbay and Fiona: "We knew we'd find you here." It was Van, along with Irvine, both beat from today's activities.

"Yeah, the main hallway's filled with those annoying privates," said Irvine smugly, waiving a piece of paper in his hand. "I wondered what could be so intriguing about this memo that I just had to snag one for myself."

"Van, Irvine, welcome back," said Fiona enthusiastically as she walked to meet them.

"Hey, guys!" greeted Moonbay. "I see you've just gotten the news about the Guardian Force forming an elite subgroup. Think you're up to it?"

"Hey, why not?" answered Irvine confidently. "How 'bout you, Van?"

"Maybe, but right now, I'm pooped," said Van.

"Clearly," commented Fiona smiling. "So how did things go today?"

"We had to bring down a loyalist faction that had been taking villages in the Northern Haazthar territory hostage," replied Van. "We were lucky no one got hurt, at least. But it took a lot out of the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix. Dr. D assembled a team to work on them right away. Those loyalists sure've got a powerful set of zoids, that's for sure."

"Yeah… O'Connell and the others just rounded them up along with other suspected Prozen partisans for questioning," added Irvine. "Zoids that powerful must have parts and ammunition coming from underground traffickers."

"Well, that's probably why the Empire and the Republic are willing to put in more on training those wanting to join the elite force," said Fiona.

"Probably," said Moonbay. "Which reminds me… if ever we're thinking of drafting ourselves for the task, we'd better give our names to the main headquarters."

"'We?'" smirked Irvine.

"Yeah, 'we'! Got a problem with that?" threatened Moonbay.

"Ha ha ha! Alright, you guys," said Van as he playfully stood between the two. "We're not even sure if the main HQ will consider any of us at all. Maybe they want someone skilled _and_ investigative."

"Like who?" asked Irvine with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

"Well… like Thomas, for instance," said Van hesitantly.

There was a pause for a few seconds after that. Then everyone came bursting out with laughter, except for Fiona, who simply smiled.

"Good one, Van," said Irvine.

"C'mon, you guys. Give the man a break," said Van.

"Yeah, yeah," said Moonbay in between giggles. "Let's go, 'coz I've gotten hungry waiting for you two."

"OK, we're going… we're going," rejoined Van placidly as he placed a hand on Fiona's shoulder. Fiona simply put her hand on his and smiled, though she couldn't hide the unrest and the mixed emotions she was unintentionally showing.

"Hey, Fiona… is something bothering you?" asked Van cooingly.

"No," she replied. "I'm just happy you came back safe." With this, Van put his arm affectionately around Fiona… a scene Thomas wasn't too fervent on seeing.

In the meantime, Thomas finally reached the main hallway of the base. By then, the place had cleared up a bit. He noticed the new memo that was put up and thought it best to read it.

_

* * *

To all those concerned:_

_The joint governments of the Empire and the Republic have agreed on randomly selecting individuals from the Guardian Force whom superior officers would deem exceptional in their abilities; they will eventually undergo additional training to take on classified assignments not routinely entrusted to untrained members of the Force. In this way, we hope to extend the Force's capability of detecting clandestine loyalist activity and apprehending covert elements that are potential threats to our peace._

_Over the next months, members of the Guardian Force with ranks ranging from cadet private to captain will be observed and evaluated as they go about their duties; their performance and efficiency in carrying out their obligations is part of the criteria for the selection. Those interested in increasing their chances of being selected can take evaluative simulated and written examinations that they can schedule at the main headquarters._

_Please be guided accordingly._

_Signed: Emperor R. G. Zeppellin III and President C. Camford_

* * *

"Hmm… seems to be the type of thing Irvine or Van would most likely get into," Thomas said to himself. He then turned his back to begin looking for his brother. "I don't think I'll pursue it," he continued thinking. "Besides, given my record, I don't think I'll stand a chance."

If he hadn't gone to Dr. Koebner earlier, he probably would have taken them up on that offer recklessly in a second. But after that session with him, he was starting to develop a new outlook. Now he thought, if people liked him, that's good. But if they don't, that'll fine with him too, as long as they don't impose on him.

Somehow, he was beginning to understand what Dr. Koebner's parting words mean.

'Just believe in yourself and the world's your oyster,' he would recall.

He stopped and took another a glance at the memo on the bulletin board, giving the piece of news a second thought. But shortly afterwards, he just shrugged his shoulders and went on his way again. All things considered, he realized that he had, at the very least, people who care, albeit the list was short. There's Marianne… and his brother, Karl, to some point… and possibly Dr. Koebner.


	7. Chapter VII

_This chapter introduces new characters. There's Lieutenant Romolo Laudati and Private Anna Richter, who both become good friends with Thomas. And there's Major Meier, their pain-in-the-ass head-of-office. Colonel Muller will be introduced in the next chapter._

_As always, I don't own Zoids or its characters, except for Dr. Konrad Koebner and those mentioned above. And of course, no yaoi._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER VII **

A new morning starts… and after watching the sunrise, Lieutenant Schubaltz again finds himself back in the same cubicle, behind the same desk. During the first part of the morning, he was expected to finish filing towering stacks of papers regarding reports of this and decrees for that, after which he was allowed to take a break. Come afternoon, he was supposed to make some initial brainstorming through these same decrees to make sure they were 'loophole-free,' as his head of office would put it.

"Brace yourself for another uneventful day," he thought to himself lightly.

He thought back on his session with Dr. Koebner. To his surprise, he noticed himself to be a great deal calmer in the face of adversity since that time. Though it had already been a few days back, he still remembers the good psychologist's advice wholly like it had only been given to him yesterday. Though he never agreed to giving up on Fiona, the part about 'the-world-being-your-oyster' stuck in his mind best.

After that bit of reminiscing, he again began having second thoughts about the memo circulated that evening and wondered how it would be like to be included in such an elite group.

He looked at the clock… it was only 9:15 in the morning. He realized that he was already halfway finished with the filing. All of a sudden, the cogs in his brain started to work again. He thought, "If I finish all of this in a lesser amount of time, maybe Colonel high-and-mighty head of office will regard this as efficiency on my part, and maybe he'll put in a good word about me with the other superior officers. That's how it's supposed to work, right? After all, that's what's written on the memo."

"Yo, Thomas!" came a voice that interrupted his train of thought; naturally, he looked up to see who the caller was. It was someone a few years younger than him, with a height approaching six feet. He had brown wavy hair and blue eyes, and was wearing the same uniform as Thomas.

"Hey, Romy. How's it goin'?" greeted Thomas casually.

The newcomer was Lieutenant Romolo Laudati ('Romy' to acquaintances), another GF official under a different division with which Thomas was unfamiliar of. It was barely over two months since Romy was assigned in the Documentations department. Thomas knew him for a few weeks only, but he seemed to have developed some sort of work-related friendship with him… though Romy rarely mentioned anything about what he did previously. The strangest thing, however, was that he never wanted to hear anything associated with General Garth, even if it were just the slightest hints of him in briefings and military conferences. But, putting that aside, he would usually wear a wide, cheerful grin, and would always be in an overall optimistic disposition.

"Considering the kind of work we're in right now, relatively I'd say I'm feeling great," came Romy's rejoinder. As always, he was in his usual dynamic self that morning.

"Really?" smirked Thomas amusingly.

"Hey, I think a man can be cool if he wants to be, despite the circumstances he's in," said Romy, raising an eyebrow jokingly at Thomas.

"Yeah. Sure, Romy… whatever you say," said Thomas. "What's that you're holding?" He was referring to a white envelope in Romy's right hand.

"Oh, right… Major Herman wanted me to give you this," said Romy as he hurriedly handed the envelope. While doing so, he noticed Thomas' bandaged hands. Apparently, his self-inflicted wounds haven't healed completely yet.

"Hey, what happened to your hands?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing… just a little mishap with the DiBison's controls," lied Thomas. "Any idea what the heck this is about?" he asked afterwards as he examined the item handed to him, flipping it over and over.

"Beats me," answered Romy. "Maybe Herman wants to kiss and make up for ever doubting you."

"Pfff…! That'll happen," laughed Thomas. "I would be really happy though if I were reinstated back to where I originally was." Clearly it was not hard for anyone to notice that one of the three soldiers who defeated the Death Stinger landed a pencil pusher's post… making Thomas having to explain himself why so look like an utter waste of time.

"I agree," asserted Romy.

"Thanks… now get lost," said Thomas teasingly, a corner of his mouth curling up into a smile.

"Ha ha. Sure thing," said Romy. "But kidding aside, I wouldn't take these things lightly if I were you. I got an envelope the same as that shortly before I wound up here." Thomas noticed traces of concern in Romy's expression. Afterwards, the latter turned around and left.

Thomas stared at the envelope on his desk for a few seconds. Giving in to the torture that came along with the suspense of anticipation, he quickly opened it to read what was inside.

* * *

_To First Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz:_

_The committee, as well as myself, has reviewed and deliberated your case. Based on our discretion, we deem it best that you be placed entirely under probationary status. This letter is merely confirmatory, and mostly for your information. For now, you will spend your time serving wholly in the Documentations department under the direct supervision of Colonel Meier, your head of office. We will continue allowing you to do the necessary maintenance work on you zoid, however._

_We assure you that your case will be reviewed again in due time._

_Signed: Major R. Herman, et al._

* * *

Right after reading the letter, he unceremoniously crumpled it up and mindlessly threw it out of the window, unconcerned if he'll get apprehended for littering. "So much for my chances with the elite group," he thought derisively, and went on with his work.

A half hour later, Thomas' workload for the morning was over, and was just dying to go back to the botanical garden. He was absolutely in no hurry to begin his brainstorming, so he decided to just bump the task off to the later hours of the afternoon. As he was speeding up towards the egress, he caught a glimpse of someone in one of the cubicles along the way. He noticed the person to be quite worried with something she was typing on the computer screen, so he decided to pre-empt his hasty exit to see what the problem was.

"Oh… Darn it!" worriedly exclaimed a freckle-faced girl who appeared rather chubby for her height. She has red curly windswept hair that consistently went its own way no matter how hard she tried to fix it… leaving her no choice but to tie the stubborn bunch up into a ponytail with lack of refinement. She was wearing a female cadet private's uniform, with a small identification plate that had 'Pvt. Anna Richter' engraved on it.

"Hey! Annie! What's the problem?" asked Thomas seriously in a hushed voice.

The cadet private quickly turned her head around to see whom it was who called her in such a volume-diminutive manner. "Lieutenant Schwartz, it you! You startled me, sir."

"It's 'Schubaltz,'" corrected Thomas non-contemptuously; he then looked up over the level of the cubicle partitions to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Seeing that the coast is clear, he added while winking an eye non-flirtatiously: "And for future reference, just call me and Lieutenant Laudati by our first names when it's just the three of us around. Believe me, it'll do us all a favor."

"Right! I'll try to remember that," answered Annie likewise in a toned-down voice, with a mischievous smile forming on her face.

Thomas nodded affirmatively, also with a sly smile. "So what have we got here?" he then asked as he bended over a little to get a better look at the computer screen.

"It's these annoying numerical matrices!" she answered wincingly. "This CPU's not equipped with extrapolating functions, and it's going to take me all day to calculate them all manually."

"I see," said Thomas, after scanning his eyes over the mathematical complexities. "I've got just the th…"

"Hey! What the hell are you two doing?" came a deep apprehending voice from behind them. It has an intonation so familiar that it reminded them of a senior officer they'd give anything to avoid… but no matter how much they try to, they would still end up facing off with him, instantly turning the day into a sour experience.

With that, Annie and Thomas shrieked with terror. 'Major Herman here at Documentations?' thought the latter. They were pretty sure it was the voice of Major Rob Herman that they heard. They turned around slowly to face what they thought was that absolutely dreaded person who was standing behind them. But instead, they saw a snickering Romy wearing his regular toothy grin and flashing peace signs with both his hands. Thomas quickly grabbed the seams of his upper garment and roughly yanked him down to hide him behind the cubicle partitions. Annie gave out a sigh of relief on the other hand.

"Are you whacked? What if our head of office hears us?" scolded Thomas in a hushed voice.

"Relax, he won't," reassured Romy smiling. "He's outside picking his nose. Man, you should've seen the looks on your faces! It's hilarious!"

"You're crazy, Romy, y'know that?" retorted Thomas, beginning to feel relieved too that it wasn't Rob Herman who caught him helping out a private.

"What's the problem anyway?" continued Romy, straightening himself up. "We're done with our tasks for this morning, aren't we? Meier said so himself that we can have the rest of the morning to ourselves if we finished early."

"Hey, not yet," said Annie, apparently feeling pushed into the background for a while. "I've still got some computer issues here."

"Right," said Thomas as he removed his Beek communicator from the right side of his head and connected it with some bus cables to the back of the CPU. In a matter of minutes, the matrices came skimming in the screen. An algebraic statement eventually flashed on the monitor, signaling that the mathematical riddles were solved. "Good work, Beek," commended Thomas as he put the AI back in position. Beek, on the other hand, simply bleeped its appreciative response.

"Thanks so much, Thomas," said Annie as she began printing out the reports. "I owe you one. Oh, and thank you too, Beek, if you can hear me."

"Beek says 'you're welcome,'" said Thomas thoughtfully. Shortly, the three of them got out of the cubicle and proceeded to the exit.

In a matter of minutes, they were in the botanical gardens… the only place in the world that made complete sense to all three of them. One could tell from their faces that they were genuinely happy to be out of that mind-numbing office. They all seated themselves down on the grassy ground to begin enjoying their few hours of carefree diversion.

"Man, I don't know how long I'll last in that department," remarked Romy as he sloppily slumped down on the grassy ground. "I'm really getting tired of it. I want to see some action!" he muttered to himself afterwards.

"Believe me, all of us want to be out of there the earliest time possible," said Annie.

Thomas, on the other hand was contemplating quietly on something. After a few seconds, he broke his silence: "Y'know, it's been a few weeks when we all started working at Documentations. I mean, day after day, we go about interacting with each other from time to time, but none of us really know each other's story… y'see where I'm getting at?"

Romy started massaging his chin, comically impersonating someone deep in thought. "Hmm… Yup, I see where you're getting at. O.K., Thomas, you go first."

Annie giggled after hearing this. "Fair enough," Thomas said as he smiled good-humoredly, since he was the one who brought up the idea. "Here goes… I'm one of those three who brought down the Death Stinger; I guess you all figured that out by now. You may think the whole thing's cool and all, that I shouldn't be the one complaining in the first place, but I'm someone most would consider the 'weakest link'… yeah, I know what you're thinking, Romy… boo hoo hoo… poor me."

"No, Thomas, not at all. Go on," said Romy, trying to sound sympathetic (quite a swift departure from his usual antics).

"Why would they think that?" asked Annie, trying not to seem too probing, afraid she might offend Thomas; after all, Thomas is a lieutenant while she's a mere cadet private. But recalling from earlier instances, Thomas made it clear that he wasn't particular about seniority, thus lessening Annie's worry.

"Don't know," answered Thomas. "Maybe it has something to do with my so-called 'over-dependence' on my gadgets. Anyway, I thought I could take on more daring stuntman roles… so I did when we were sent to Mount Isolina on a mission. The situation got a little risky… O.K., a _lot _riskier than what it should've been… but back then, we hadn't a lot of choices. After that, everyone thinks what I did was totally uncalled for, so I'm suspecting that's what landed me in Documentations. And there you have it… Lieutenant Schubaltz's uneventful life story in a nutshell."

"That must be a real bummer," said Romy.

"You can say that again," said Thomas. "It was like you're being told that you're no longer trusted and that you're not deserving of higher responsibilities. You've no idea how embarrassing it feels after you finally realize it…"

"I know what you mean," said Annie softly. "Before I came to Documentations, I was under Weapons Analysis. Basically our job was to calibrate and recalibrate firearms and beam cannons, so nothing would go wrong when the time to use them in battle comes.

"One time, a little over four months back, when I first started, team members who had been around longer decided to play a practical joke on me… sort of an initiation. It seemed that after I did the final clean-ups on the specifics of my equipment, they did some 'recalibration' of their own in the dead of the night. So come the next morning, when we were about to test-fire the beam cannon I was working on, the whole thing exploded, nearly leveling half of the building to the ground. Luckily, the damaged was contained and no one was hurt, but I got severely apprehended after that. The real perpetrators however got away clean; everything was so skillfully done that not a trace of evidence against them was found. Still, they didn't expect destruction of that magnitude to happen. My superiors thought that the gravity of the situation was so serious that I had to be suspended for a couple of months without pay. Eventually, the culprits handed themselves over after giving in to their conscience, and eventually got dismissed.

"Problem is, things didn't go better for me. My superiors believed that I was partly responsible for the aftermath. They said I should have checked my calculations twice that morning before setting off the beam cannon for test firing. They said I should be glad that I wasn't dismissed when I should have been in the first place. Just as you, Thomas, they felt I shouldn't be trusted with responsibilities like that in the future. They couldn't derive anything from the incident, though, that can be grounds for an outright dismissal, so I guess throwing me into Documentations was the 'right punishment' they could think of for now."

After that, all three of them remained quiet where they were. The only sound they heard were the chirping of birds in the background. Finally, Romy stood up to give himself a stretch.

"There are worse things," he said as he extended his neck unnaturally, making clicking sounds like those when one would crack one's knuckles.

"What d'you mean?" asked Annie intrepidly, looking up to Romy. Thomas, on the other hand, stared at him observantly, becoming aware of the unexpected seriousness in his gesture.

"At least no one got killed," Romy answered almost inaudibly, head stooped down. His hands clenched into fists as he faintly added, "Goddamn you, Garth." That made the other two worried; just when they thought they'd figured their new friend out in just a few days' time, this out-of-the-blue side of him was definitely something to be concerned about. It's been said before that people with the jolliest dispositions rarely get angry, but tend to be berserkers when they finally unleash their wrath.

"I never tell this to anyone, except to those I can trust," continued Romy uneasily. "I was an active element in the underground smuggling of zoid parts, at least until I realized what I got myself into. I managed to get out… but… I… That's… that's all I'm going to say for now. I hope you'll understand. I'm really sorry, Annie. I didn't mean to cheapen your troubles your former team members put you through, if ever you felt that way. I'm sorry, too, Thomas, if I kept this from you… from both of you. I… I just hope Garth will finally get the punishment he deserves."

"It's O.K., Romy," said Annie.

"No problem, buddy," said Thomas. Romy somewhat knew that Thomas was after these underground smugglers, and was happy when he found out that he provided the hard evidences that will pin Garth against the wall. Thomas, conversely, was ready to forgive his fellow lieutenant. It seemed to him that Romy was coerced into joining Garth… that Garth had something on him. From then on, both Annie and Thomas automatically made up their minds not to force things, and thought they would give Romy all the time he needed to tell what was really bothering him. They decided they'd just wait until he's ready to open up.

Romy couldn't help but smile in gratitude. "Thanks, you guys," he said. Sensing that everything was beginning to get mushy, he quickly changed the subject to liven things up. Trying to appear funny, he brought his arms akimbo in a purposefully gawky way and looked again at Annie. "Hey, Annie. There's just one thing, though. Just what were you doing with numerical matrices back there? We're working in the _Documentations_ department, may I remind you."

"Glad you asked," asserted Annie happily. "I'm a mathematician by trade. What you saw me doing a while back is part of some sidelining I do away from university. No one knows it except you guys. So if this piece of information _ever_ reaches our head of office, the both of you are dead meat!"

Both Romy and Thomas gulped in unison, to Annie's mischievous delight.

"Ha ha, just kidding, guys!" she said. "Anyway, I help out with data gathering for some researchers I know personally back in my alma mater; in return, they pay me for my services. It helps a lot especially when you just get by with only the wage you get from working in Documentations. It's a win-win situation. Sure, it's not like when I was back at Weapons Analysis (plus, there's the risk of getting found out). In a way, I'm somehow glad that I was out of there, 'coz I kinda hate working with weapons. It's not exactly my thing. It's a craft you've no choice but to learn."

"Hmm… math. The two of us seem to have something in common," said Thomas enthrallingly, though jokingly at that, as he leaned towards Annie.

"Well, well. I'd like for us to get together sometime," rejoined Annie, smiling boldly. She also leaned forward a bit to Thomas and said, "Only thing is… you're more like my _brother_. Ha ha!"

"Ouch," surrendered Thomas, still with a teasing smirk on his face.

"Oh, stop kidding around, you two. You're making me nauseous," said Romy languidly. "You've got a fat chance with Thomas, my dear Annie, 'coz he's so into that ancient Zoidian girl. What's her name, Thomas? Fiona? Oww!" Seemingly, Annie had reached for Romy's head and clobbered it.

"Don't you dare use the word 'fat' and my name in the same sentence again if you value your life," threatened Annie as Romy began nursing his tender scalp gingerly.

Thomas, on the other hand, was motionless, with his eyes wide open, and flabbergasted at how Romy found out about his carefully guarded secret (which apparently was not a secret even to Annie any longer). Blushing furiously, he began uttering monosyllabically, "How… the… hell… did… you…?"

"It's really not that difficult to figure out, Thomas," reasoned Romy, sensing that bringing the issue up wasn't at all a bright idea. "You always seem to lose yourself when she's around… Yikes!" That's when Thomas jumped up and ran after him, with Romy naturally running away for dear life.

"Get back here, you nut!" yelled Thomas heatedly.

As Thomas went running after Romy, Annie simply watched as she laughed her head off, likening the two to a cat-and-mouse tandem. After the two were out of breath from all that chasing, they decided to call it quits and rested again on the grassy ground to let their remaining time of enjoyment fly by.

They decided to come back to the department at a quarter to noon to submit their final reports to their head of office, Colonel Meier. After that, there was a plan to sneak out to a café in one of the nearby towns to spend their noon break just to get away from the dullness of the Red River Base. Annie was adamant on not going at first, afraid they might get caught, but with Romy's coaxing, she finally gave in to the idea. Thomas, however, had no other option but to follow suit, thinking that a majority vote wouldn't be worth disputing. He likewise thought that breaking a few rules might probably do some good for his stiff character… perhaps, a chance to loosen up, as Dr. Koebner recommended.

All three of them actually clicked with each other; their friendship seemed to have taken off on a good start back at the botanical garden where they had the chance to be themselves.

As they walked down the hall leading to Documentations, Romy was now stroking two parts of his skull, wincing slightly from pain. Apparently, he got another knock on the head, this time from Thomas. "Man, I've got two lumps on my noggin now. You guys are so brutal."

"That's because to seem to know a lot of things you shouldn't know to begin with," said Thomas plainly.

"Well, for sure, it serves you right for being so tactless," added Annie.

"Two against one? Oooh, this is too much," cried Romy.

"You shouldn't go blurting out stuff like that," reproached Thomas.

"Oh come on, Thomas. I didn't mean anything bad. I think Fiona and you look good together… honest!"

"Oh, shut up, Romy," snapped Thomas evenly. But thereafter, he smiled to himself thinking that at least one thought he and Fiona would make a wonderful pair. Although Romy joked around a lot, Thomas had a feeling that there was sincerity in his last statement. His other concern, however, was on whether or not Romy would keep his mouth shut.

"Hey, Romy. Does anyone else know about this?"

"Don't worry," assured Romy. "I haven't told anyone, and I'm not planning to." Little does Thomas know, however, that Moonbay already spilled the beans to Fiona.

"Just try not to make yourself so easy to read," advised Annie, looking at Thomas from the side of her head.

A surprise greeted them as they entered the Documentations department. There stood a stern-looking Colonel Meier, arms folded across his chest. A burly man in his late forties, with graying sideburns and a face studded with small craters (subtle evidences of having gone through a very severe pimply stage during his adolescent years), he looked like someone with a stick shoved up his butt, ready to pounce on anything that moved.

"Where have you three been?" he boomed.

"We've been out on a break, sir," answered Romy curtly.

"Out on a break? Who gave you permission to go out on a break, you poor excuse for a lieutenant?"

"You did… sir," said Thomas, selflessly stepping forward in defense of his friends. "With all due respect, sir, it was you who allowed us this time as soon as we were finished with our morning duties."

Colonel Meier quickly realized that he actually did give them permission to do so. Trying to save face, he retorted, "I don't see any morning summary reports on my desk."

"We're about to submit them to you, sir," said Annie meekly. "That's why we came back before 1200 hours to print them out."

"Well get on with it then!" roared Colonel Meier. "You should've turned them in to me first _before_ you went skipping out of here!"

All three gave soldiers' salutes and went on to their specified cubicles to print out their morning report. Satisfied with himself, Colonel Meier went back to his office to make a phone call.

In a few minutes, Lieutenant Schubaltz, Lieutenant Laudati, and Private Richter all had their required documents on Colonel Meier's desk.

"You turds better consider yourselves lucky I won't be doubling your load this time," barked Meier. "Now get a move on to the main conference room. General Krueger and Colonel Muller are waiting, and would like a word with all three of you. Dismissed!"

They again gave their usual snappy salutes. Just as they were about to let themselves out, Colonel Meier called out, "I believe this belongs to you, Lieutenant Schubaltz." With that he hurled a piece of paper crumpled into a ball towards Thomas' face. Thomas' reflexes were still as quick as ever, just as it was a few days back at Dr. Koebner's office. He swiftly swiped the crumpled piece of paper with one of his bandaged hands before letting it hit his forehead, saving him from further embarrassment. It took him a few seconds before he realized what the crumpled piece of paper was all about… it was the same piece of paper containing statements confirming his probation, which he unthinkingly threw out the window earlier.

"Don't let me catch you littering again if you know what's good for you, sissy boy," snapped Meier. "I don't know how insurgent you were under Herman and O'Connell, but you sure as hell better not be insurgent with me! Now get out of here!"

"I hate that bastard," muttered Thomas angrily as soon as all three of them were out of Colonel Meier's office, and concurrently beyond his earshot.

"Just let it go, Thomas," said Romy.

"Hmph! I'd sure like to see his face bleed," Thomas said, as he made a quick glance towards his other companion. He was taken aback, however, to see a horror-stricken and pale-faced Annie at his side.

"Annie, are you O.K.?"

"Huh? Y-yeah, I'll be fine," answered Annie nervously. "Just had a flashback from four months ago. How about you? Are you going to be O.K.?"

"Don't worry about me," guaranteed Thomas. "I've had a lot of that from my brother, so I'm quite used to it.

"I hate to break it to you, but right now, you look a lot worse than Thomas and me put together," started Romy, again trying to pick up the atmosphere. "Pardon my openness, but what was it that made you go into the army in the first place? You're too nice to be a soldier."

"Later, Romy?" intruded Thomas. "Can we ask about that later?"

"It's a long story, Romy," answered Annie gently. "I'm just not at liberty to tell it right now."

"Sorry, my bad," apologized Romy. "I was thinking with my mouth again."

"But we had our pagers with us," continued Annie, still a bit at a loss from the encounter. "Why didn't Meier just page us if he wanted something done?"

"Clearly, he's the kind of ogre that loves to torture his subordinates emotionally, unlike Herman," said Thomas. "Major Herman can be an ass sometimes, but at least he and my brother always looked out for me and Van. But the real question is: what does General Krueger want with us? And what's he still doing here in the Red River Base? I thought that guy already retired from the Force."

"Yeah, that's what I thought to," said Romy. "I wonder… And who the hell is Colonel Muller?"

"I don't know, but we'll soon find out," said Annie as she pointed towards the main conference room entrance just ahead of them.

(Chapter 8 coming soon)


	8. Chapter VIII

_Greetings, everyone… I'm back, but not necessarily with a vengeance. Sorry for my long absence from Fanfiction… well, y'know, the usual… school and stuff… yadda-yadda…_

_I wasn't too ardent on expecting ANY reviews AT ALL in the beginning, since I figured Thomas Schubaltz isn't a character anyone would want to be (readily) associated or identified with, given he's not your typecast cool guy. Although I could still count the reviews I earned by using both my hands only once, every bit of constructive criticism that was given counts, and is indeed highly appreciated. By that alone, it means there are people out there who are genuinely interested in this fanfic. I initially thought of abandoning this project a good number of times back when I just started out with the first two chapters, but look at this now… I'VE REACHED THE EIGHTH CHAPTER, and you ain't seen nothin' yet! Given your clear support, I'll go on until the end. Thanks very much._

_And of course, here are the usual disclaimers that never seem to grow old: I don't own Zoids or its characters. I just base my fanfic on it. This is a yaoi-free fanfic. Romy and Annie are my creations, as well as the two cadet privates who make their debut in this chapter. And of course, there's that menacing Maximilian Muller. I don't like him one bit, but sadly his bringing forth is entirely my fault (so sue me, hehehe)._

Wild Card 

**CHAPTER VIII**

Thomas, Annie and Romy find themselves standing within the foyer leading to the main conference room, dumbfounded, not knowing what to think. Each individually searched their memories extensively to see what it was they did or did not do to 'deserve the honor' of General Krueger's audience. Romy, unwilling to prolong the agony of consternation, stepped forward and punched in his GF identification number on the number-pad just beside the automatic sliding door that is the entrance to the main conference room. As soon as the door slid wide open, all three of them stepped in… all quite unsure if the feeling of impending doom was the right sensation to be subjected to at the moment.

The main conference room was probably the widest and the most elegant briefing sector there was in the Red River Base. It was very well lit, very well air-conditioned, and with every square inch of the floor covered in soft bright-red carpet. Up front hanged a magnificent tapestry with the Guardian Force emblem as the main centerpiece. In the middle of the room were four arrays of seats and desks facing each other, with built-in computer screens on the said desks for every seat there was. A modern-styled chandelier was suspended right from the center of the cream-white ceiling.

Annie and Romy stood open-mouthed in awe. It was obviously the first time for both of them to be in a room as elegant as this. But not for Thomas, who had been in the main conference room on many occasions before… back when they were planning out how to bring down the Death Stinger. He remained calm and composed; as he was about to let his eyes scan the place for familiar faces, he was suddenly distracted (and a bit amused) by Annie and Romy's befuddled appearances.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Take your seats." It was the baritone voice of General Krueger that called them. He stood right up front, with the GF emblem just behind him.

Thomas noticed that his other two companions were still kind of at a loss from being in an all new surrounding. "Psst! Annie! Romy! Decorum!" he whispered sternly to them to get their attention.

"Oop… sorry!" both Annie and Romy murmured softly, as all three snappily gave their salutes.

General Krueger saluted back with full regality and said, "Right, now if everyone can take their seats so we can start…"

"Lieutenant Fleiheit and the two other cadet privates you called for aren't here yet," came another familiar voice. Thomas made a quick glance to see that it was Major Rob Herman who spoke out. Standing nearby was Colonel Karl Schubaltz, with his usual strict mien.

Just then, Van and the two cadet privates Herman was talking about came in the conference room via another entrance ("Speak of the devil," mumbled Herman under his breath).

"Sorry I'm late," said Van casually, though saluting promptly after that.

"It's not like you to be late," stated General Krueger, but without a tinge of disappointment in his tone.

"Again, my apologies," smiled Van, scratching the back of his head jocularly. "I had a little difficulty pulling these two out of their duties," he continued, pointing a thumb to the two cadet privates who followed him in. General Krueger knew Van and his father, Dan Fleiheit, personally, so Thomas wasn't at all that surprised with the familiarity going around between the two. Though Van and himself are both lieutenants by rank, seemingly Van gets a lot more respect – much more than what Thomas had worked so hard for – from superiors the likes of Karl and Krueger (to name a few), and couldn't help but think if this same familiarity had a significant role in this.

As for the two privates… in Thomas' opinion, they looked like a couple of hatchlings fresh out of their shells, perceptibly unsure of what to do next. For that, he drew some sympathy for the two, as he caught a glimpse of himself way back when he first started. With that, he hoped the other seniors won't be giving them much of a problem with whatever it is there were called in the main conference room for in the first place.

The first of the two's an average-height, skinny, bespectacled, pimply-faced guy with short black spiky hair. He obviously looked like someone fresh out of the Academy; as for those who didn't know better, they would have probably thought he came fresh out of _high school_. The other private, on the other hand, is female, with long flaxen hair braided tightly from her nape down. Her wide glassy eyes almost made her look perpetually attentive, and her receding chin did absolutely nothing to improve her appearance. Her white unblemished skin, on the other hand, seemed to act as her saving grace. Just as her distinguished co-private, her body language clearly gave away her greenhorn standing.

Thomas then shifted his gaze forward. He noticed another person obviously approaching the vintaged age group (i. e., gray-to-white streaks in his hair, face beginning to develop wrinkles…) standing to the left of General Krueger, wearing the same uniform as Karl's. The lieutenant presumed that person to be Colonel Muller. He had two distinguishing marks, though… a deep scar over his left cheek, and a long lavender dash across his forehead.

In a few minutes, everyone settled onto their seats, with their respective monitors turned on. Thomas began to feel ambiguous about the whole summoning when he saw that he, Annie, Romy, and the two other cadet privates were made to sit together in the same line, facing forward… and facing Krueger and Muller. Seated together, likewise in a row but adjacent to them, were Van, Karl, and Herman.

Everyone's attention was then brought up front when the GF emblem started rolling itself up to reveal a large projection screen behind it. When it turned on, it flashed a screensaver, which again featured none other than the GF emblem itself.

General Krueger began… "Following the Death Stinger's destruction, and of course Prozen's defeat, the Guardian Force has been able to apprehend numerous Prozen loyalists… some of which were in fact high-ranking officials in the Imperial Army, sad to say. Even if we've sieved the ranks of some of these misguided partisans, unfortunately, there are still loyalists at large, the most dangerous of which is someone who goes by the name of Reese. Besides that, I've personally been noticing more and more instances of zoid attacks in neighboring Republican villages. To be honest, some of these zoids have been rather difficult to put out of commission. Based on the diagnostics ran by Weapons Analysis, these distinctive parts and artillery way more powerful that ours are, in reality, hybrids of two _different _weapons from _different_ zoids listed in the inventories of both the Empire and the Republic; we'd jokingly call these 'amalgams.' Weapons specialists have been able to find, based on reproducible trials, that combining the mechanisms of weapons of two distinct zoids… say, a Command Wolf and a Helcat… would, to some strange and unexplainable effect, have a more powerful and destructive impact, as compared to adding up their separate strengths arithmetically." Simultaneously, images of the zoids and the hybrid weapons in question were flashed on the separate computer monitors on the desks before those present.

"Apparently, they have a team of specialists working for these loyalist groups who are way ahead of us in terms of development of this kind of weaponry and technology," Krueger continued. "Of course, this raises the suspicion of underground smugglers and covert weapons tycoons financially backing up the rebel factions and providing them with this kind of artillery. The possibility of inside jobs can never be totally ruled out at this point in time. In addition to that, there are also suspicions that newer and more powerful zoids are being developed, regrettably a lot more powerful than the registered ones. If we include organoids into the picture, goodness knows what destructive power these creations would bring upon Planet Zi."

"I have a question," spoke out Thomas boldly, hand raised. Everyone in the room quickly turned their heads to his direction, all with bafflement in their expressions. The lieutenant could see from his peripheral vision that Annie's face became even paler with fright, given the fact that he had just crudely interrupted General Krueger's lecture. Romy, on the other hand, could understand. It looked as if Thomas had enough of superior officers talking down to him for one day. Though likewise bewildered from the unexpected boldness on Thomas' part, he waited for the query.

"Surely these zoids need human intervention," continued Thomas. "Of the zoids put out of commission, what happened to the pilots? Maybe they know at least something about where these come from, assuming they'd need a good amount of training to maneuver these kind of machines."

"Funny you should ask, lieutenant," said General Krueger plainly. On hearing this, everyone reflexively sensed the momentary tensions subsiding. "As you know, we always do our best not to kill the pilot of any zoid we try to bring down during an encounter… for interrogation purposes. However, every time the cockpit canopy is pried open, the inside reeks of cyanide… if you know what I mean. That was a couple of years back."

Thomas' glance became more inquisitive upon hearing that last remark. 'A couple of years back? What exactly did he mean by that?' he asked himself.

"I see the wonderment in you eyes, lieutenant," uttered Colonel Muller for the first time, with some sarcasm in his tone. To Thomas, his voice sounded like that of a sleazy snake, if ever it had been miraculously bestowed the ability of speech… though a personification with one didn't seem that far-fetched. "The zoids that followed starting a couple of years back didn't need pilots to maneuver them. They're a lot like Sleeper zoids. Only thing is… they have programmed orders to destroy. That AI hooked to your left ear is merely a glorification of those programs."

"I resent that," Beek bleeped loudly into Thomas' ear, making his nearby eye squint slightly in response to pain. Luckily, only he could hear his faithful AI's angry sounds. Though faint ringing momentarily remained in his left ear after that, it didn't prevent him from being revolted at the idea of zoids being run on programs solely for destruction.

"Ah, yes… for those who don't know him yet, this is Colonel Maximilian Muller," said General Krueger as introduction to his colleague. "He had served under me for a number of years before the unification, mainly stationed at the former Mt. Osa Base. We consider him as one of the harbingers of rank-revamping, and on his own merit was able to clear every division of the Republican Army of any corrupt official during his time. He gets invited every now and then to keep everything and everyone in line, so that what was previously cleaned up stays clean."

Thomas then realized that a couple of years through the unification of the Republic and the Empire, both armies started wearing the same uniform (with distinctions between ranks, that is), so it was rather hard to tell a Republican soldier from an Imperial one. But, either way, there was something fishy about Muller's character that Thomas couldn't bring himself to trust… even more so when the Colonel announced indirectly that he knew about his AI, Beek, quite from out of the blue… unless he was able to get hold of his personal data back at HQ.

Concurrently, Romy started eyeballing Colonel Muller in an ominous way. 'To keep everything and everyone in line? What the hell is this prick insinuating?' he vexingly thought.

"Going back to what we were discussing, sir, if we may," said Karl respectfully in an attempt to negate the effect of Thomas' alleged 'intentional-accidental' vocal slippage. "I'm fully aware that these loyalists automatically go under your custody after capture and initial interrogation on our part. Was there any information they could have volunteered further in exchange for amnesty?"

"For that, Colonel Schubaltz, we had to separate those who were brainwashed into joining Prozen's legions from those who were the actual brains to the outfit," elaborated General Krueger. "That was the easy part. We still did extensive questioning to those who simply tagged along, but clearly you can tell that they we're completely misinformed and seduced with promises of power and wealth. There's nothing much we could get out of them."

"As for those who _do _know," started Colonel Muller, with a malevolent smirk no less, "…we have our ways of wheedling the truth out of them. And believe me… it wasn't the offer of amnesty."

The first word that came to Thomas' mind was 'torture.' He couldn't say anything in moral retaliation. He winced at the thought. He never imagined the Guardian Force to be this barbaric…

Colonel Muller then looked boringly at Thomas and said, "Sodium amytal works wonders, doesn't it?"

Although that bit of condescendence greatly annoyed Thomas, his chest widened on hearing this. He knew what the mentioned compound entailed – truth serum. Muller seemed to be purposefully trying to get on the lieutenant's nerves, seeing that Thomas was the cynical type of person whose actions were very easy to read.

Just then, a map of Delpoi, with the neighboring Europa area, was flashed on the big projector screen up front, to which everybody inadvertently shifted his or her attention.

"From what we learned, there are underground manufacturing facilities (and I mean 'underground' literally) that are currently in operation in numerous parts of the Central and Western Continents," began General Krueger. "Every one of those subjected to the truth serum gave different locations, and five of these locations all came out as common denominators."

Five illuminated circles started popping up on different part of the map on the screen as General Krueger continued talking. "There's Axides and Creistarr in the vast Haazthar territory by the north-northwest range of the Western Continent, and Ladratos, Opporeth, and Patranteisc within the Central Continent. We believe that's where these smuggled zoid parts are being hybridized and shipped off to their respective beneficiaries in pre-assembled form. To where all of these are being shipped off, we do not know. Who supplies the raw materials also remains a mystery to us."

Thomas stared at the projection screen for a while, and then looked at the rest of the members of his group seated in the same row as he is. The anger wrinkles on Romy's face present a few seconds ago seemed to have been ironed out a bit, though the infuriation was still subtly evident. On the other hand, Annie had pink fortunately creeping back into her formerly pale but still worried features. As for the other two privates, they remained timidly unstirred on their seats.

The blonde lieutenant then looked back at Krueger and Muller quizzically. 'This sounds like all five of us are in for a court-marshalling,' he thought uncomfortably. At that point, the phrase 'self-preservation' started playing in his head over and over. With that, all anxieties he felt started to dissipate, and be slowly replaced by determination to safeguard his integrity as well as those of his companions.

"Going back to what you said, General Krueger, sir… by the possibility of an inside job, are you by any chance pertaining to the five of us?" asked Thomas plainly with a straight face. Clearly, he hated the 'beating-around-the-bush' motif. If he was in for heaps of trouble, he wanted to find out right away.

The tension in the room rose again. All eyes again fell on Thomas; this time, he swore he could almost feel their stares.

General Krueger looked at Thomas sternly. "No one is being accused here of anything, lieutenant" he said, with anger starting to be threateningly demonstrated in his gestures.

"Then, with all due respect, sir, what's all of this got to do with us? Clearly most of us seated in this row aren't expecting missions to be handed to us just like that any time soon," continued Thomas in a calm and collected voice, in allusion to his probation. This, however, made Herman rise quickly from his seat to shout, "Watch it, lieutenant!"

Karl remained seated. Though his face was half-hidden behind his clasped hands, his intimidating emerald-green eyes looked piercingly, straight into Thomas', as if telling him to zip it once and for all. Naturally, this sent another chill down Thomas' spine, again making it difficult for the latter to maintain his equanimity. Truly, no one scares Thomas more the way his older brother could.

Just then, Colonel Muller stepped in, with the same nasty smile still stuck on his face. "That's alright, Major Herman. Anyone in their place would feel the same, though I would advice them to be less reactionary about it. Such an 'intelligent' display like this is akin to ignorantly announcing with misplaced pride to the world that you're under probation… clearly something someone ought to be ashamed of instead."

Suddenly, Thomas started purposefully fantasizing about Muller being skinned alive and thrown headfirst into a ravine with lots of jagged rock at the bottom. His frivolously macabre train of thought was however preempted when he saw the two tenderfoot privates glancing at him in disbelief – disbelief that someone who did a big part in destroying the Death Stinger was actually under probation! This was unmistakably an absolutely embarrassing letdown, even for Thomas. On seeing such a wretched picture, Thomas didn't feel guilt, for once, in thinking ill of someone he was apparently beginning to hate a great deal.

"Here's my short and simple answer to your question, lieutenant," continued Muller, with the tone of his voice nothing short of malicious. "Since the bunch of you are more adept at 'investigative' deskwork rather than combative tasks, all five of you are to design surveillance cameras… the types that can be camouflaged perfectly while it does its job of transmitting images through satellite feed. Forgive me; I'm quite short on my vocabulary today. I couldn't find a more suitable substitute for the word 'design.' Surely, individuals of your caliber don't do the word justice at all. I'm not so sure too if I'm using the word 'investigative' correctly."

"That will be quite enough of your smart-ass talk, Muller," Karl voiced out. Thomas looked towards his brother, surprised but reassured; Karl looking out for him like this was a rarity, but nevertheless the event was not unwelcome. He saw Van seated nearby, face expressionless but with a gaze that was a bit uncomfortable. He was looking down onto his hands laid on the desk; he appeared to think twice about joining Karl in sticking up for Thomas.

"Standing up for dear little brother now, are we, Colonel Schubaltz?" chided Muller provocatively.

"Don't push it, Muller," bellowed Karl.

"You should be happy, Karl," continued Muller. "At any rate, Thomas here has become useful for at least one thing…"

"Now look here…" retorted Thomas in a raised voice.

"You are _this_ close, Thomas!" barked Herman from his seat. "Don't ask for it!"

"That'll be enough, Maximilian," came Krueger's stern intonation, while raising a square and calloused hand to Rob Herman, gesturing him to be quiet as well. "You may be good at your job, but I have only this much patience with your attitude. By now, you should have been in the rank of general if it wasn't for your frequent bouts of vulgarity. _That_, for sure, is something _I _wouldn't want to be proud of."

Muller appeared taken aback at the comment. "My apologies, General," he said afterwards.

"As Colonel Muller was saying," resumed Colonel Krueger, seeing that no further interruptions were coming up. "We will be needing special cameras that will be installed about these five locations to monitor for any unusual activity that may help us pinpoint the exact location of these underground manufacturing facilities… which we hope to collectively put out of business for good. Embarrassingly, we hoped from the beginning that mapping out the exact locations via satellite would have been enough, but after initial attempts in doing so… it had only proven the desired goal to be nothing more than wishful thinking to begin with. Somehow, _they've_ managed to 'paint' the whole territory with interference signals that made satellite mapping virtually impossible."

"So all we need to do is to install these surveillance equipment and watch for any suspicious activity," clarified Thomas, sounding quite relieved that it wasn't a preview to a court marshalling that they were facing. Judging by his retained uncommon boldness, Annie and Romy noticed that he was strangely oblivious of his close encounters with trouble from a few minutes ago.

"Oh, you weren't listening, lieutenant," began Muller. "I specifically said you were to _provide_ us with these surveillance equipment…"

"You won't be doing the actual installation and surveillance," interrupted Krueger, again raising a hand, this time flashing his calloused palm to Muller's face to make him stop talking. "You just need to instruct Van and Irvine on how to operate them as soon as you are done, and they will take it from there."

Thomas quickly glanced towards Van upon hearing this. He was very much hoping for a response or a plea from his friend, at the very least telling or appealing to the powers that be that his co-lieutenant be included in this mission… that it was time to endow Thomas with the same trust that was given to him during the time when he went out risking life and limb to bring down the Death Stinger… that it was time to bring back the old times.

Sadly, Van remained quiet on his seat. He tried avoiding Thomas' persistent gaze, as if actually knowing what the blonde lieutenant so wanted him to do. Finally giving up, Thomas looked away in utter disappointment.

All these strange happenings seemed to be too much for Thomas to take all at once. What was more perturbing for him, however, was Krueger keeping his cool despite the provocative stunts he kept pulling a while back. It was as if Krueger was actually _expecting_ Thomas to voice out like that. It made the lieutenant think there was something worse that was in store for them.

'I could _really _use the power of intuition right now,' thought Thomas worriedly.

"We will be providing you with the necessary materials," continued General Krueger, facing Thomas and the others. "I want them all in within forty-eight hours. For now, those are your tasks. All five of you are dismissed. Lieutenant Fleiheit, Major Herman, and Colonel Schubaltz are to be left behind."

Thomas, Annie, Romy, and the two cadet privates simultaneously gave their salutes before walking out of the main conference room. Except for the moments of salutatory exchange, everything went on unceremoniously.

"That was a great performance, General Krueger," whispered Muller inconspicuously to the General as Thomas' group left the room. "I almost believed you there."

Krueger, on the other hand, didn't react to Muller's pretentious complement. "On the surface, you'd say they're quite a bunch of misfits," was what he said in response instead, also whispering discreetly as Muller did earlier.

"Exactly," rejoined Muller. "They're the type that wouldn't be easily missed around here."

"I don't want to pre-empt this premature rejoicing of yours, but I'm afraid you don't know them… especially Schubaltz's younger brother," warned Krueger. "If you'd paid more attention, you'd see that they're most likely not going to take this lying down. At one point, they're going to do things on their own."

"That's exactly what I'm after," said Muller nastily, half-chuckling. "They are going to do our bidding."

(Chapter 9 coming soon)


	9. Chapter IX

_I'd like to correct myself before beginning; THIS is the longest chapter I've written so far. I couldn't cleave it into two separate chapters, lest I'll be ruining the momentum. I'm really sorry, though, if it took so long. I've been rather busy with schoolwork, and somehow had the misfortune of being caught up with other unrelated stuff as well. But for those following this fanfic unfailingly, albeit a few of you may be, I'd like to give my heartfelt thanks, as well as my reassurance that I'm going to see this fanfic through with you until the end even if it takes me years to do so (how's that for dramatic?)._

_In this chapter, the two cadet privates introduced previously are now given names: Sebastian Albrecht and Gisela Reimers. Lieutenant Laudati and Cadet Richter are the other characters that are fruits of my (twisted?) imagination. Of course, we'll also see glimpses of Muller and Meier as we go by. The rest – that is, the anime Zoids on which I base this fanfic, as well as its mainstay characters – I don't own. Oh, and no yaoi in this chapter and in the rest of this fanfic. _

_Frankly, I miss our dear psychologist, Dr. Koebner. Intriguing, as he may seem… now's not the right time to write him in again. He'll make his comeback, though._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER IX**

Thomas was absolutely steamed after the briefing. Trying his best to hold himself back, he had no choice but to think of this as another one of those days when things didn't go the way he wanted… or putting it more accurately, another one of those days when things didn't _almost_ go the way he wanted. The thought of someone like Muller bringing up his probationary status was just totally uncalled for. Thomas was very much aware of the mess he's in, and the last thing he needed was someone tactlessly reminding him of it.

But what he couldn't bare to think was Van just sitting there, doing nothing, just letting things transpire without him, supposedly his old friend, questioning them… not like the way he always did in the past.

Now Annie thought it was her turn to try to pick up the mood: "Hey cheer up, you guys! At least we won't have to start everything from scratch. I mean… you heard what they said. They'll provide us with the necessary materials. And Romy here's an electronics engineer, so…"

"Mechanical engineer," corrected Romy.

"OK, then," said Annie. "With that, I guess it won't be that much of a hassle."

"Annie," began Romy almost whisperingly, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them. "Did you by any chance recognize who the lieutenant seated beside Major Herman and Colonel Schubaltz was?"

"Yeah," answered Annie. "Lieutenant Van Fleiheit."

"That's his name," said Romy, "I'm asking _who _he was… or is… or whatever… to Thomas, that is."

"Eh?" gestured Annie perplexedly.

"In case you haven't noticed, Thomas is kinda worked up right now," Romy pointed out.

"I noticed," said Annie.

"Then how can you not see the heated connections that went around back in that room a while ago, especially between him and Van?" rejoined Romy.

"But they didn't even talk to each other!… Y'know what, I don't get you, Romy. Care to expound on what you're saying?" said Annie while frowning and shaking her head in annoyance.

"Alright then, if it makes you happy. He, Fleiheit, and some other guy… never really knew his name… hmm, come to think of it, he never really stirred up my interested at all. Anyway, the three of them always did things as a team, from what I remember," elaborated Romy.

"How long have you been here really?" interrupted Annie, trying to sound funny (mostly for personal comic relief, after what everyone amongst their group had been through earlier).

"Four to five years, a little bit longer than Thomas. Can I finish?" said Romy, still with a jocularly crisp quality in his voice.

"Alright, alright. Jeez," said Annie, hands raised.

"Right. Anyway, teammates somehow develop a sort of friendship. Thomas here and Van are what some would consider friends, unlike him and the other guy (well, he and that other guy didn't really seem to get along). They're sort of rivals, too… with Fiona, that is." Romy made an abrupt stop in his elucidation and gazed cautiously towards Thomas. Apparently, he wasn't too keen on repeating the cat-and-mouse chase they had earlier in the botanical garden.

"You don't have to keep it between the two of you, y'know. I can hear you loud and clear," said Thomas, glaring at Romy and Annie, seemingly much less aggravated this time.

"Sorry, Thomas," said Romy. "You know I was just speculating. Anything to keep Annie here from talking non-stop."

"Hey!" retorted Annie.

"You're on the right track, though," said Thomas. "I consider Van my friend, at least until now. I know things have been rather hectic lately, but if he or the others were truly concerned about me, I should've at least got a 'hi, how's it going' from him… or a 'hey, I don't see you with us that much anymore' or a 'hey, why don't we all go out someplace for a change… all of us together.' He just sat there, acting as if he didn't want anything to do with me. He's usually not like this, as far as I knew him. He'd immediately stand up for me like what Karl did when it comes to cheap-shot talk like that with Muller. But now it's like he's rather thankful that I'm out of their group, and he seems to not want me back."

Thomas' pace slowed down a bit. He began staring mystifyingly at the floor as he carried on walking. "Somehow I had a feeling – call it a premonition if you must - that a time like this would come," he continued. "But even if I already had that one coming, it's funny how it still took a lot out of me. Though strangely I was expecting this, I didn't realize it to be this soon… and amongst these circumstances, to top it all. I bet the others too are relieved that I'm out."

"I'm sorry, Thomas," said Annie.

"I'm hoping this is just a big misunderstanding," Thomas went on, as he blandly smiled his appreciation for Annie's sympathy. "I don't know… I'm hoping that maybe I just misinterpreted his actions back there. Somehow I still want to think that Van had his reasons for behaving that way. He doesn't have to be afraid of me about anything, though. It's him who Fiona loves, not me."

"Thomas…" began Romy sotto voce.

"I know, I know… here I go again about Fiona," said Thomas. "Quit acting like the two of you don't know it yet… and don't worry, Romy, I'm not going to knock you on the head again. I guess there's nothing much I can do now, coz it's practically out in the open, thanks to you! It's not that keeping it a secret will save me from further embarrassment."

"Uh, Thomas…" said Romy mellifluously again. This time, he sounded more persistent… the kind that warns that the walls have ears, hearing every word falling out of the talker's mouth. Eventually, the blonde lieutenant got what the other one was trying to convey, and moved his attention towards him. On eye contact, Romy then gestured to him by bobbing his head towards his left.

Sure enough, by the far left, just behind Romy, stood the two cadet privates who were made to sit with them back in the main conference room. Annie noticed them as well.

"Why are you two still here?" asked Thomas calmly. "Don't you have someplace else to be in right now?"

"U-uh," began the spiky-haired, bespectacled private, voice almost toned-down to a mumble. He stood up straight, albeit stiffly and uneasily.

Just then, Annie quickly realized what the topic of the conversation was before Thomas shifted the course to talk to the two privates. The whole time they were walking, she figured that Thomas might have assumed it was only the three of them present. But without thinking further thereafter (at the heat of the moment, being more like it), she unconsciously blurted out: "Whoa, wait a minute… how much did you hear of what we were talking about Fiona?"

The two cadet privates just stood there uneasily (Annie swore she saw one of them actually trembling). By now, it's common knowledge for almost everyone in the Red River Base that both Van and Fiona are practically an item. It was just reasonable – even for these two privates – that someone else who has feelings for the ancient Zoidian beauty wouldn't exactly be enthusiastic about wanting anyone else to know about his emotions.

Thinking that they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, the two privates were now afraid of what they might be faced against for hearing this forbidden piece of information. Having the lowest rank in the joint Republican and Imperial defense, they were fearful that something comparable to the previous encounter Romy's head had with the blonde lieutenant's knuckles wasn't the only thing they'll be getting.

Thomas, finally realizing what Romy was trying to tell him, just let out a sigh of defeat and rolled his eyeballs, saying, "It just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Afterwards, he continued walking on.

On the other hand, the other four remained glued to their places, astonished at this unexpected turn of events. Normally, Thomas would go frantic should the event of someone else knowing about his 'not-so-secret-any-longer carefully guarded secret' come about.

Though Thomas' letting go of the issue relieved the two privates in a way, the same thing can't be said about Annie and Romy. For them (having known Thomas for a number of weeks now), seeing him act inexplicably as such seemed like he was beginning to lose interest in everything altogether… and that somewhat worried them.

"Are you guys coming or what?" then came Thomas' voice when he saw that he was the only one walking back to Documentations by himself.

"Coming," echoed Romy, as both he and Annie began picking up their pace.

"We're heading back to Documentations. You sure you're not needed anywhere?" Annie asked her two co-privates.

"Nowhere, really," said the female private, who along with her male co-ranker still remained nameless to Annie and the rest. "Lieutenant Fleiheit made sure we were excused from our duties for the remainder of the day."

"Yeah," spoke the male private in clear diction for the first time, although still faintly meek at that (considering he was talking to someone of the same rank as he is). "You don't mind if we tagged along… just in case we need to plan things out for this assignment."

"Sure, that'd be a great idea… though I wouldn't exactly call this whole shebang an assignment," answered Annie, with slight derisiveness at the latter part of her sentence.

"Uh, about Lieutenant Schubaltz," uttered the female private. "He's going to be OK, isn't he?"

"I… I don't know," said Annie softly, looking concernedly towards Thomas. "But don't worry, he's not mad at the two of you. Being on familiar terms with him, I'd say he's nowhere near vengeful."

The two privates quietly gave out sighs of relief. That piece of reassurance saved them a lot of unnecessary worrying.

"I'm Annie Richter, by the way," continued Annie. "Just be careful not to make too much noise while you're in Documentations. Our ass of an office-head has some rather unreasonable idiosyncrasies, if you know what I'm getting at. Better yet, don't let yourselves be seen by our head of office _at all_. OK?"

Both privates nodded hesitantly in response, indecisive about whether or not to consider that last remark a joke. Just when they thought their troubles were over, they had another new matter to worry about. Without anything else said, all three hurried to catch up with the others. That's when they reached Romy and Thomas engaging in some discussion of their own.

"I provided most of the information, through Major Herman, that is," complained Thomas, seemingly much less angrier than before, but a lot more annoyed this time. "A simple recognition for my hard work would have been in order, but no… they just went on like they extracted these evidences themselves. And I coined the term 'amalgam' in my personal report logbook. They claimed it as their own as well, _and _they just laughed at it. It's one of those things among others that pissed me off back there. I mean… isn't 'amalgam' a recognized word in the English dictionary?"

"Yeah, it is," answered Romy. "It describes the hybrids well, I'd give you that. But regrettably, my friend, the term lacks a lot in style and charisma."

Thomas glowered at Romy with an eyebrow raised. "Are you, by any chance, implying that I'm uncool?" he asked lightly.

"I wouldn't say _entirely_ uncool," explained Romy. "Potentially, you'll pass as 'alright' by me. It's just that you've got this geeky thing going."

"Geeky?" exclaimed Thomas, half-surprised and half-amused. "Alright, I admit… I can be rather bookish and rigid when it comes to certain things… but _geeky_?"

"You use your _own_ standards as reference, Romy?" butted-in Annie half-laughing.

"Ha ha! Very funny, Annie," said Romy sarcastically. He then turned back to Thomas, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "What you need, my dear Thomas, is a full make-over."

"Try not to go there, Romy," warned Annie calmly.

"Y'know, Romy, it concerns me greatly to hear that straight from you," said Thomas flinchingly (but trying to sound funny, all the same) as he tried to gingerly pick Romy's hand off his shoulder in revulsion as if he were handling a piece of fish. "Truly, there are still some aspects about your personality that I'm too afraid to know about."

"Huh!" gasped Romy as he flippantly placed a hand on his chest to humorously signify his shock to Thomas' candid yet jokingly meant observation. "Is _that_ what you think of _me_?"

Everyone couldn't help but laugh. A good laugh was exactly what they needed in a sort of trying time such as this. Even the two privates following couldn't help but smile at Romy's sidesplitting antics.

"But seriously, Thomas," continued Romy in between chuckles. "You and I have got to get together to fix you up good, and give the word 'style' a new meaning… Uh… Ahem… Right… OK, changing the subject now. Didn't you notice how that Colonel Muller guy seemed to know a lot about us?"

"Well, I guess it is part of his job," said Annie. "It's just customary to know the people you're going to delegate your work to inside-out before you send them out to do the job."

"Yeah, but with Colonel Muller…" began Thomas. "Ugh! God! I hate that man! He's officially another one of those people whose face I also want to see bleeding."

"I hope I'm not included in your list," shuddered Romy humorously, giving Thomas an over-acted suspicious look.

"You've practically been the whole group's spokesperson back there in the main," said Annie. "You got me really scared, yes… but all in all, that was a cool thing you did… voicing out for the rest of us who're too terrified to speak."

"Thanks, Annie," said Thomas with a faint smile, as if intangible bits of self-confidence were slowly seeping back into him. "I just don't see the reason why they have to extend their distrust. Why don't they just let us do the surveillance ourselves? Clearly they assumed right away that we don't have the slightest idea of what's supposed to be monitored."

In the meantime, Romy turned his attention to the two cadet privates following closely behind them. "Are you two normally this silent?" he asked.

"Oh, Romy, will you give them a break," said Annie. "They thought they could come along with us to discuss the whole thing about installing these surveillance cameras."

"Have you warned them about the Ogre?" came Romy's follow-up question (pertaining to Meier), giving a lot of emphasis on that last word.

"Yes, I already did," answered Annie wearily, beginning to feel drained from the lieutenant's persistence.

"Don't worry… I'll talk to the ogre," said Thomas. "Maybe I can get him to agree on allowing these two to stay with us until five in the afternoon."

"You're always the diplomatic type," commented Romy. "That's something _almost_ cool about you, but I think we can still improve on that…"

"Alright, King of Coolness… I got it," came Thomas' relinquishing voice. "You've made your point. When d'you like to schedule this style-upgrade you so badly want to make me take?"

"Ooh, can I come too?" asked Annie excitedly. "I don't want to miss out on that."

"Oh, Annie, not you too?" groaned Thomas in annoyance. But after that, he too turned his attention to the two remaining members in their small group. "Anyway, I believe we haven't introduced each other properly yet. I'm Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz. This is Lieutenant Romolo Laudati and that's Private Anna Richter."

"Cadet Private Sebastian Albrecht, sir," answered the spiky-haired young man, giving a snappy salute (simultaneously giving Thomas a sense of déjà vu).

"Cadet Private Gisela Reimers, sir," said the female private, likewise giving a salute just as snappy as the one who gave it earlier. "Please excuse me for saying this, but by your features, sir, I can tell you're Colonel Karl Schubaltz's brother," she continued, pertaining to Thomas' distinctively emerald-green irises.

"Yeah… I bet having the same surname isn't much of a giveaway," said Thomas jokingly. Gisela smiled in return, though still a bit nervously at that.

After a few more friendly exchanges, all five of them proceeded back to the Documentations department. That at the very least made Sebastian and Gisela more comfortable with their new company. As they arrived at where they were supposed to be, Thomas proceeded straight to Meier's office to make his negotiations. As expected, Meier's booming voice again echoed until the other end of the room. He went on about how Thomas had the nerve of showing his face in his office right after exhibiting his 'insurgent behavior' earlier, and about how he should have been terminated from the service a long time ago hadn't Karl been his older brother.

Then followed a few more minutes of calm. What the rest on the other side of the concrete wall could hear were only muffled, incomprehensible sounds of voices. Soon afterwards, Thomas came out Meier's office, wearing a satisfied smirk on his face.

"So? What happened?" asked Romy in anticipation.

"Sebastian and Gisela can stay so we can discuss our plan," answered Thomas triumphantly. "It seems General Krueger knew beforehand what we intended to do after the briefing and got to Meier earlier, ordering him to allow the two of them to stay with us, at least until the preparation of the cameras to be installed are done. So therefore, the Ogre can't touch us."

"Ha ha! So he's finally put right in his place," blurted out Annie.

"As for the work you left unfinished back in your former posts…" continued Thomas, this time shifting his attention to Sebastian and Gisela. "You won't have to worry, because two other privates have been called upon to cover for you, at least for the time being."

The first part of the afternoon at Documentations consisted of Thomas, Annie, and Romy compulsorily going about brainstorming through unofficial military diktats before they're eventually passed off as memos and minor decrees, just what they were previously tasked to do. Sebastian and Gisela, on the other hand, seated themselves at a corner, observing the goings-on quietly like a couple of children starting off their first day of class in a totally unfamiliar classroom in an entirely new school. This went on for an hour, after which Meier received another phone call from General Krueger, ordering him to cancel all of their due activities and duties for the day. This was much to Meier's frustration, especially when the brainstorming work was summarily passed on to him. Krueger reasoned that it was only proper to do this, since proofreading the diktats is originally a Colonel's job. Naturally, Meier had no choice but to follow what his superior says. As he went out of his office to convey the message to Thomas and the others, he of course came roaring about how the lot of them always gets away with things. For now, badmouthing was the most Meier could do to them… much to the two lieutenants' delight.

Finally, Annie, Gisela, Romy, Sebastian, and Thomas were left in peace to carry out their planning and division of labor. The fact that Annie is a mathematician (and a weapons analyst), Romy a mechanical engineer, and Thomas a computer and electronics specialist – all by trade – carrying out something as mediocre as devising stealth satellite-fed cameras was as easy as pie. Things got even better when Sebastian and Gisela announced that both of them have physics doctorates (despite how young they looked), that both of them went to the same university, and that the former specialized in light and optics while the latter had a knack for studying sound.

There wasn't a lot achieved on the division of labor part, though, since they didn't have the raw materials and equipment at hand for now. They learned from Rob Herman personally afterwards that the whole process of shipment of what everyone would be needing would take the whole afternoon, and that everything was expected to arrive around ten in the evening. So as not to waste any time doing nothing, each went on discussing their theoretical concepts on the matter instead. This was so that at least they'd have an idea about the pitfalls they'd be encountering when they commence work on the satellite-fed cameras. That part of the planning process was the easiest, probably because everyone had the same amount of interest in the matter, and that everyone treated each other as equals, more importantly. This was undeniably something that Thomas was all too happy to partake in. This whole new breed of camaraderie had been a bit overwhelming for him at first that some getting used to was essential; the rest of the afternoon went on very smoothly.

At last, the clock rang 1700 hours. All five of them eventually emerged from Documentations, stretching out their cramped muscles, after concluding the otherwise uneventful afternoon they had earlier. They noticed those with scheduled duties for tonight going on and signing in their respective posts. The others, on the other hand, either went back to their quarters, or went straight to the base cafeteria. Right then, Romy was just too quick to have other plans in mind.

"So, how about we sneak out of the base _tonight_," asked Romy.

"Oh, no, Romy," responded Annie apprehensively. "Don't tell me you're still not giving up on that idea."

"Aww, c'mon, Annie… don't be such a spoilsport," complained Romy. "I thought you agreed on the getaway earlier. It just too boring here."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind," said Annie scornfully. "In case you didn't know, you, Thomas, and myself are all under probation and are not allowed outside base premises. Besides, we've got to be on the lookout for the equipment arriving here. Though Major Herman said it would be arriving at 2200 hours, it could be here earlier."

"Y'know what I learned just recently, Annie?" began Thomas. "One shouldn't take life too seriously, since no one gets out of it alive anyway. So let's go and live a little. Furthermore, I'm tired of being this goody-goody, 'by-the-book' guy. OK, Romy, where d'you want to go tonight?"

"That's what I'm talkin' about," exclaimed an excited Romy. "Let's try the far side of the nearest town, where people from here don't usually go. Why don't we sneak out that DiBison of yours too, so we can get there and back quicker?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," said Annie.

"I think that's a really good idea," continued Thomas. "Why don't we all go out tonight? Since those up there aren't willing to provide us with the thrill of being on an overnight duty, we might as well get something good out of this 'accessory' status of ours. I admit that we have to tighten our belts because of the lesser pay, but y'know what? Having a higher pay, or having better insurance coverage for going on extended duties just comes secondarily to me now. What's our purpose for being in the Guardian Force in the first place? It's to keep the peace in any way we can, right? And if I should add, it's keeping violence in our methods down to a minimum, too. Now I realize that rules aren't everything, and I have you guys to thank for that. So what if we bend a few of them by sneaking out of the base tonight when we really shouldn't?"

Annie was just flabbergasted. She was speechless from surprise at first, but she eventually said in surrender, "Well, for one, it could land us into more trouble. But since you put it that way, then I guess what the heck…"

Sebastian and Gisela just watched perplexedly (not believing what they're hearing either). Since they teamed up with the others, they haven't been participating too much in conversation… except for volunteering anything they knew on excerpts from the concepts of physics.

Thomas finally caught notice of their silence. "I guess here are two more who need some loosening-up besides me."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Schubaltz, sir, we'd like to come, if it weren't for the situation the three of you are in right now," said Gisela.

"You don't have to be too formal when you're around us," assured Thomas. "And don't worry about a thing, though. We'll be back before ten in the evening."

Just then, Irvine and Moonbay passed by; their distance was rather close to Thomas and the others. Romy quickly noticed Irvine eyeing the five of them suspiciously. But immediately afterwards, the eye-patched ex-mercenary turned his head back to the direction of where he was going, trying to appear as if he doesn't give a rat's ass about the other group.

"Thomas, we'd better keep it down for a while," warned Romy, voice toned down. "We've got company."

"Got you there," said Thomas quietly.

As soon as Moonbay and Irvine were a good distance from them, each quickly gave the other instructions on how they were going to carry out their getaway. Finally, everyone agreed on getting back to their quarters to put on civilian clothing under their military overalls, and meet each other at the lobby after half an hour before going.

Sure enough, about half an hour later, all five gathered themselves in the base lobby just in front of the mural, notwithstanding looking a bit bulky from the additional ply of fabric underneath their military overalls. Although Annie eventually became thrilled about the whole sneaking-out-for-the-night thing, Gisela and Sebastian were still clearly hesitant about the whole proposal. To smoothen the transition for them, Romy told them that this was the right time for them to try their hand out on a little espionage, instructing them to be as inconspicuous as they can with their actions (without overdoing it, that is) so as no one would be the smarter.

"So, I take it that everyone's ready," said Romy. "What's that you've got there, Sebastian? And while I'm at it, have you got a nickname I can call you with? Sebastian's too starched for me."

"Oh, this? It's something I've worked on for my thesis back in university. It's a miniature portable hologram device. I just thought we could make use of it if we're going to steal away one of the zoids in the hangar." Plainly, Sebastian was rather uneasy in saying this out loud.

"Brilliant… brilliant," said Romy as his mouth curled into an impish grin.

Just as they were about to leave for the back-end of the base, and towards the base hangar, they were suddenly stopped by a voice that called out from one of the egresses connecting to the main lobby.

"You're digging yourselves a pretty deep hole there!" It was Colonel Muller, with a voice as spiteful as ever. Standing beside him are General Krueger and Major Herman. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, nowhere," answered Romy, trying to sound as innocent as he can. Unfortunately, his quasi-prankster bearing stood out more readily. "We were just getting back to our quarters."

"I believe the way to the quarters is in the other direction," said Muller slyly.

"Oh, we're done for now," said Gisela nervously and quietly to herself. Annie gently placed a hand on her back for reassurance.

"Lieutenant Schubaltz," started Muller while casting a bored glance at Thomas. "Kindly take off your upper garment."

Thomas eyed the requesting colonel malevolently, while the other four watched by tensely. After a few seconds of hesitance, he took off his lieutenant's jacket, seeing that he had no other choice. As expected, this revealed the casual attire he wore underneath.

"Hmm, why am I not surprised?" sneered Muller, scanning Thomas' figure languorously through half-closed eyes from head to toe. "You certainly don't act like one of the 'magnificent three' I've heard so much about, Lieutenant Schubaltz. No wonder you're rotting with the rest of these lowlifes down in Documentations."

"Leave us, Maximilian," ordered General Krueger unexpectedly. The colonel's shamelessness was again getting to his nerves.

"But, General, clearly he's not cut out to be…" reasoned Muller, as he tried to reclaim the limelight General Krueger so brusquely stole from him.

"I said leave us!" barked Krueger. This time, by that louder and sterner intonation, he made sure to Muller that he didn't want to repeat himself again. Muller, having no other recourse, bowed his head down a little in salutation, but with a subtle frown no less. He then turned around and left off.

"I heard what you were all up to," continued Krueger, this time addressing Thomas and the others. "Frankly, it surprised me a lot. You of all people should understand the depth of the situation you're in."

Thomas was silent for a moment, but after putting his upper garment back on, he finally spoke out, saying: "I'll take full responsibility for this, General Krueger, sir."

"No, sir," interrupted Romy. "I started the whole idea in the first place. If there's someone you need to punish, it's me."

"Alright, that will be quite enough," said General Krueger nonchalantly, raising both square and calloused hands. "I've decided to just let this go for now. Though I believe confining you to barracks for the rest of your indefinite probation period seems overdoing it, I want you to keep in mind that orders are orders. I don't want to be thought of as a merciless tyrant either, so for tonight, I'm letting you go on this one night out you've been clandestinely planning on. All of you deserve it, somehow, seeing your performance in Documentations. Be back by 2200 hours, when the shipment of the equipment arrives. I'll let you rest for the time being, but I expect you to commence work as soon as you come back. The deadline is strictly in forty-eight hours, not more than that. Got it?"

Astonishment filled the air. Everyone hearing General Krueger was stunned to speechlessness. Even Rob Herman couldn't voice out a comeback, but he was nevertheless confident enough to trust the General in his decision. All the same, no one dared to challenge him further.

"And leave your military overalls behind; obviously there's no use for that now," Krueger added. Without any more ado, the two superior officers left the scene.

"That was close," exhaled Gisela in relief.

Thomas took off his upper garment again and started folding it up neatly; the others naturally followed suit. He was astounded at himself at how fear wasn't the first thing he sensed inside him right after being found out by the higher-ups. At that juncture, the cogwheels in his brain started turning again. "We got off there quite easily," he said, with skepticism highlighted in his affect. "This just doesn't feel right. Don't you think they're rather lax with us all of a sudden, considering everything else that's been going on?"

"Who cares? Don't you at least feel glad it turned out that way?" asked Annie.

"No, not one bit," answered Thomas, concern starting to exhibit in his look. "I'd rather have my reservations. It seems like there's a whole catch to it."

"Oh, don't be such a stiff, Thomas," said Romy, sounding rather relieved himself, quite contrary to Thomas' overall disposition. "Just be thankful we've got this night out with no strings attached… well, sort of."

"But how did Muller know what we were going to do?" asked Sebastian while tucking away his little hologram-generator.

"I think I know how," replied Annie heatedly all at once as she mindlessly dropped her upper military fatigue on the floor and quickly started on her way towards the base hangar, to everyone's surprise. Sure enough, there was Irvine coming out from one of the egresses along that path. He appeared to be in full gear to go out for some action on the field. In the meantime, Annie's face was red and puckered-browed in anger and disgust; she charged into the ex-mercenary with all the force she could congregate.

"Just what is your problem, eh?" growled Annie while aggressively shoving Irvine repeatedly. "What's the idea telling on us like that?" Irvine, however, was too quick to grab and hold down Annie's arms by the wrists.

"Let go of me, ass!" she sneered.

"Don't start with me," began Irvine with a smirk. "You'd better control that outburst of yours. A private answering back like that to a superior officer wouldn't look good on any résumé."

"You're no superior officer to me," said Annie disgustedly as she yanked her wrists free from Irvine's grasp.

"Let's just it go, Annie," said Romy, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder as he tried to lead her away from the object of her infuriation.

"Yeah, listen to your boyfriend there," said Irvine jeeringly.

"Just shut up, fool," retorted Romy composedly as he turned around with the rest to leave.

"Whoa, just that?" said Irvine provokingly. "Frankly, I was expecting a lot more than just a 'shut up' from you."

Everybody clearly heard what Irvine said; Romy stopped for a while, hands irritably clenched into fists. But afterwards, he simply ignored him, and all five members of their group went on their way. However, the ex-mercenary went on prodding, as if expecting a fight out of this.

"Oh, so you're walking away now?" he said, arms spread as if challenging Romy to a one-on-one. "That's not the Lieutenant Laudati I saw when you went straight for Garth's throat. Hah, it even had to take three soldiers to pry your hands off the poor bastard."

He certainly did it this time; Romy couldn't extend his patience any further. He glanced back at Irvine in a rather dangerous manner. His eyes began to turn unnaturally bloodthirsty, as if he was more than willing to reenact what had happened with him and Garth on that day. Thomas knew how mentioning Garth's name crassly really made Romy upset. Before his co-lieutenant had the chance to lunge at Irvine, he immediately stepped in between before everything took a turn for the worse. He was afraid that if Romy gets his hands on Irvine, it'd be sheer murder. He had to think of a distraction quickly before all of them landed into deeper trouble.

"What part of 'shut up' don't you understand, Irvine?" Thomas said. Apparently, such a not-so-snide rhetorical question was the only thing he could think of for now.

"Oh, Tommy Boy," began Irvine as his voice assumed a contemptuous timbre. "I didn't know you were there. How are things _down there_ at… darn, where is that again? Oh, yes… at Documentations?"

"Why you…" Now it was Thomas finding himself ready to spring at the haughty ex-mercenary… same as what Romy would have done earlier if given the chance (minus the murderous intent, that is). Luckily, Romy and Sebastian swiftly held Thomas back, just as his forehead was only a few inches from Irvine's face in the blonde lieutenant's attempt to head-butt it. However, Irvine just stood where he was, in a macho pose no less, not flinched one bit by Thomas' botched head-on attack.

"He's not worth it, sir," said Sebastian unconfidently, the volume of his voice almost down to a squeak.

"I don't know what the hell made you so smug all of a sudden, Irvine, but I swear I'll…" said Thomas.

"You'd _what_?" interjected Irvine arrogantly.

"That'd be enough, Irvine! Shut the hell up and get over here!"

Everybody turned to the direction of where the strong deep voice called out. It was Karl standing on the far end of the hallway, with a stance as majestic as always. Standing beside him was Van, who, as same as earlier, was still trying to avoid Thomas' gaze. Like Irvine, he was also clad in full battle gear, as if ready to go out on a reconnaissance.

'Why the hell is Van acting like this?' thought Thomas.

"Look, I didn't nark on you, alright?" said Irvine unapologetically. "Just give it up."

"Don't you dare look down on us…" snapped Annie, as she tapped her index finger harshly on the ex-mercenary's chest.

"Yeah, whatever," said Irvine while brushing off Annie's hand disinterestedly, as if shooing away a fly that was beginning to annoy him. "I've got better things to do anyway than to put up with all your bickering."

"Let's go, Irvine," called out Van impatiently. It was practically the first time in Thomas' life that he had seen his supposed comrade behave restlessly and uncomfortably after staying a minute too long in one place.

"Alright, alright… I'm coming," muttered Irvine to himself as he rudely left the group of five that is Annie, Romy, Gisela, Sebastian, and Thomas.

All five of them were silent thereafter. Sebastian pulled out a handkerchief from one of his pockets to wipe off the cold sweat that collected on his forehead and neck. Gisela's face, on the other hand, grew pale as her heart raced violently in her chest. She watched the other three (Thomas, Romy, and Annie) nervously, as they just stood where they were, motionless and quiet. Their faces were all distorted into scorching frowns.

"If I had a gun, that asshole would be dead," uttered Romy in a ghoulishly threatening way.

"Give me a good enough reason why an ex-mercenary like him became a lieutenant of the Guardian Force," asked Annie angrily.

"I don't know if I can give you one," said Thomas articulately. "But I can presume it probably lies in the line of the same reason why all three of us are under probation."

Thomas, appearing more poised as the other two, then approached Romy and patted him on his shoulder, saying, "We all gathered here tonight to go out some place to enjoy ourselves, just as what you wanted to do, eh Romy? We're not going to let someone like Irvine ruin it for us now, won't we?"

"You're right, Thomas," said Romy calmly soon thereafter.

"All of those in favor of going out despite this very minor setback… say 'Aye,'" called out Thomas, right hand raised.

One by one, the others followed suit… raising their hands and saying 'Aye.' One by one, faces lightened up. Thomas then smiled in satisfaction and said, "Perfect."

After leaving their fatigue clothes back at their quarters, all hurried into the hangar with renewed enthusiasm. Except for the uncomfortable ride going to where they wanted to go (owing to everyone squeezing into the DiBison's cramped cockpit), the whole program of enjoyment went along as planned. In twenty minutes, they were there.

The town was picturesque at the very least, and had the lake as its main attraction. Though none of them had seen it during daytime, the night scene was nevertheless a beautiful sight to see. Light posts distributed evenly on the sidewalks paralleling the session road radiated colorful shades of brightness, complementing the decorative glittering coming from the shops and other small commercial establishments alongside. Presumably a busy town by day, nights seemed to be even busier, as it would appear most likely to newcomers.

They first went out to eat, as all were famished from the happenings of the day. Afterwards, Annie and Gisela went their own way to look at the items on display in the various shops in town, while Romy and the rest proceeded to a bar for some drinks. Though Thomas thought this wasn't his kind of venue for meeting girls, he still went along since they'd only be doing this for one night. He still stuck to his conviction, though, of not taking an ounce of alcohol to drink. Luckily for him, Sebastian wasn't much of a drinker himself, while Romy drank only in moderation. They mostly listened to the live bands that played music there on stage.

A little over two hours later, all five regrouped in the town park, just by the lakeside. The place was beautiful, and although well lit, the radiance of the natural light from Planet Zi's moons wasn't underemphasized at all by this. Its reflection over the lake's surface truly provided a powerful aesthetic effect. This definitely served as the ideal location for chatting and friendly bonding, for in time, Sebastian was able to open up on how joining the army wasn't part of this life plan at all. His plan originally was to become an optics researcher, and that he never believed in having a buff physique to be appreciated by anyone. His father somehow coerced him into joining the Guardian Force, seeing that he was the only one in a family of five who hasn't seen combat yet. Much to his regret, Sebastian had to carry out his father's wish, hoping he'll learn to love this new line of work eventually, though in his opinion, the outcome of it was bleak. Though nothing was said out loud, Sebastian could tell that his father sees him as a weakling that needed some toughening-up. He could vividly remember seeing the frustration in his father's face whenever he would pick up a science textbook instead of a toy gun or a pair of boxing gloves back when he was still a kid of six. Whether the patriarch appreciates him or not at present was yet to be determined, depending on how things would work out in the Guardian Force. For now, all he could do was to live one day at a time.

Sebastian and Gisela are actually second-degree cousins, much to everyone's surprise. Just as Sebastian, Gisela never really wanted to be in the Guardian Force, but her story was different. Though she had gone through eight years of rigorous academic training in physics along with Sebastian, she was never compelled to join the army, but still did so as an independent decision of hers. The truth was, she was after a man from their province back at Delpoi (more or less her age, and whose name she wasn't at liberty of telling) with whom she fell hopelessly in love with when she first saw him midway through university. No one knew of her real purpose for joining the army, not even her parents or her cousin Sebastian, until now. All she knew about that man was that he joined the Imperial army, and continued to serve under it. Where he is stationed at the very moment was something she had yet to know by asking around. She knew that her efforts were beginning to be a futile waste of energy as days pass by. For one, the HQ registry wasn't too cooperative in divulging facts about the army's enlistees to anyone, even to fellow enlistees. She knew better, though, than to stop her education abruptly to follow her desire of searching for her love interest. As soon as she got her doctorate, she immediately signed in for enlistment. She had no idea, though, if that man had actually noticed her back then, but she was hoping against all hope that, if they ever had a chance to meet each other again, she would be seen for the first time in the way she wanted… not as a nerdy chinless bookworm with a doctorate in physics.

Sebastian was truly appalled on hearing the gist to Gisela's whole story, and concluded outright that her decision was the silliest among the silly… practically the same as voluntarily walking into the lion's mouth. For him, what his cousin was doing seemed more like stalking rather than searching for true love. Still, Annie came to Gisela's rescue, arguing that love does cloud people's judgment at times. But when asked if she had any regrets, Gisela answered that the whole thing was worth it. She had to admit that she had a lot to lose in the process, but was happy to say in the meantime that she learned a lot since the time both she and Sebastian started in the army a few months back, and that she was somehow able to apply some of the physics concepts she internalized during her stay in university. Her true aspiration in life was to be a researcher, just like what Sebastian wanted for himself. She wasn't sure back then if joining the army was a means of proving to herself and to others that she was no pushover, as most would have probably thought. Even if her real ambition was getting further and further out of reach as time passed by hanging about in the Guardian Force, she had to reconcile it with herself that this was probably the next best thing there is.

Thomas and Annie told their own unadulterated stories as well; though Thomas wasn't too big on the idea of talking about _his_ love interest out loud, he still hid no secrets, feeling he could trust the two newcomers to their group. Romy, however, still had his reluctance in spilling his guts out entirely. In fairness to others who virtually bared their souls, he again admitted openly to have been involved in underground zoid-parts smuggling… but limited it to only that. He never ventured into touching the topic of Garth, even though everyone was wishing so much that he would.

"I think we better get back to the base," said Annie finally, as her watch read nine-thirty in the evening. "We've still got a lot of work to do when we get back."

In twenty minutes, they were back at the Red River Base. At the hangar, they were received by no other than Colonel Karl Schubaltz himself. As soon as all five passengers got off the DiBison, he immediately instructed them to head right away to Warehouse No. 5. Thomas still gave his sincerely fond 'hey there, big bro' greeting to his sibling; this made Karl smile genuinely for a moment, but he then quickly reverted back to his strict mien (as expected of him by many), again reminding Thomas of the proper military etiquette, which the latter had already expected he would say.

The necessary equipment apparently arrived fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. On entering Warehouse No. 5 and turning on the ceiling lights, Thomas and the others found the materials already laid out properly in an assorted manner on a big table in the middle of the room. Karl prompted that all five of them could take turns in working, resting, going to the mess hall to eat, or attend to other personal necessities, just as long as they would submit the finished products in forty-eight hours or less. With that, everyone gave their salutes, and Karl left the vicinity to concentrate on other matters.

They labored on with the utmost efficiency they could come up with. With all the concepts they talked about previously in mind, they expected that they could at least avoid all possible pitfalls that would present along the way…, which they fortunately did. After a total of sixteen hours, they were able to complete about three-fourths of the work. By that time, it was mostly the assembly part that was in play, with which they were more and more getting accustomed to as they went on. They forecasted that another hour is all that it'll take to finish the whole thing.

Thomas, however, seemed to slow down a bit on his work. It wasn't due to a lack of sleep, since everyone already had his or her share of resting time. It definitely wasn't lack of food either, considering they ate enough at where they had been prior to working in Warehouse No. 5. Though he tried his hardest to make it indiscernible, his actions were still quite easy to figure out, at least for Romy and Annie. They knew what that meant: something in his mind was clearly perplexing the blonde lieutenant.

"Thomas, is something bothering you?" Annie asked right away.

"Huh? What?" asked Thomas in slight astonishment, as if being briskly swept back into reality. He cleared his throat and said (trying to sound clueless), "What makes you think something's bothering me?"

"Thomas, I've known you long enough to figure out with full confidence that if you're daydreaming like this, something's definitely bothering you," she answered frankly.

"OK, you got me there," said Thomas finally. "I just surmised that the final number of cameras we're going to produce won't cover enough ground, bearing in mind they've got five locations to monitor. You may think this isn't going to be our problem, but…"

"But what?" asked Romy after all that followed was silence.

"I'm thinking of devising our own surveillance cameras, satellite-fed as well, so that _we_ ourselves can do the actual monitoring, in addition to them."

"Say that again?" said a stunned Annie, acting as if what Thomas just said hadn't entirely sink in yet.

"You heard right," said Thomas self-assuredly. "I plan to make our own cameras that we can take turns in installing secretly… that is, if everybody's into it."

"I don't know, Thomas," said Romy, shaking his head slightly in vacillation.

"Wait, hear me out first," said Thomas hurriedly. "Somehow I've been thinking. What kind of 'unusual activity' are they after, really? And do they actually know what they have to watch out for? I've been investigating this whole underground smuggling business for a couple of years now. They, on the other hand, simply reviewed the data I provided them in just a few weeks' time. Now how much can you learn from that, really? To tell you the truth, _not everything_ written in my personal logbook I've transcribed for their use… just those that would be enough to bring General Garth to justice. I'm sorry, Romy, if I had to bring him up."

"It's OK, pal," said Romy inoffensively. "I'm beginning to get the hang of it… hearing that son of a bitch's name over and over again. At least I'll have to one of these days."

"I know how people involved in this do their negotiations out in the open," Thomas continued objectively. "And they do it _very _surreptitiously that you'd say at first glance that they're just having a harmless, friendly conversation."

"Come to think of it, Lieutenant Schubaltz is right," said Sebastian, skimming his vision over the remaining unassembled equipment together with the finished cameras on the big table. "They provided us with only this many materials. I'd agree when he says it won't cover much ground. These parts aren't even equipped with audio-functions."

"Quite right, and please just call me 'Thomas' when it's only the five of us," Thomas said. "You may not know it, but my work on investigating these sleaze-balls has become rather personal to me. You know as much as I do that everyone wants peace that lasts. I want to sleep comfortably at night thinking that everything's alright, and that I've at least done my part to make things better for everyone. Besides, I'm sick of losing people I love."

"So are we, Thomas… so are we," said Gisela softly; she saw her aunt die before her eyes when shrapnel tore through her body. It came from a grenade that unexpectedly made its way into one of the shelters in which they were hiding. That was a few years back, during the war. Going through the whole depressing ordeal again was the last thing in the world that she wanted.

Thomas could clearly see the uncertainness and indecisiveness written all over the faces of his companions. A sight such as that would truly drain the enthusiasm out of a suggested endeavor, but the younger Schubaltz wasn't planning on giving up that easily, even if he had to carry out his proposition on a solo operation.

"Look, I know some of you think this whole thing isn't a good idea, but I'll understand completely if you don't want to join in," he said finally.

"Don't get me wrong, Thomas, I understand your sentiment completely," said Romy, for the first time sounding indisputably serious. "But how are we going to pull this off?"

"We'll improvise," said Thomas, with a smile curling up his lips. "Just leave it to me."

"But we're in a lot of trouble as it is," continued Romy, trying to sound realistic. "Don't you think that's completely going overboard?"

"Surprised to hear that coming from someone who goes overboard all the time," said Annie teasingly. "If I remember correctly, you're the type who laughs in the face of danger."

"Well… every guy's got his downer days," reasoned Romy.

"General Garth may be in prison, but he might as well be having the time of his life," rejoined Thomas. "If he only knew how much the Guardian Force is having difficulty in putting every underground manufacturing center in Europa out of business, let alone finding them, he'd be laughing his head off. How would you feel about that?"

Another interval of deafening silence followed. But something unexpected followed thereafter: the usually timid Gisela actually stepped forward and spoke wholly about the eccentric proposition.

"I'm going to go with Thomas on that one. One thing I absolutely can't stand is the thought of criminals not getting the punishment they deserve. But another thing I can't stand as well is for good people to just sit around and do nothing. This plan sounds absolutely idealistic to me, and I don't know in how far we'll be able to pull this whole thing off, but if this is going to help put my aunt's memories to rest, that by all means, count me in!"

Thomas nodded and smiled gratefully at the cadet private, who then returned the smile. The younger Schubaltz then turned his attention back to the rest of the group.

"If something goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility. You can disavow any knowledge of this for your safety," he said optimistically.

Everyone was again silent for a few moments. Thereafter, Romy made a few glances at his groupmates, shrugged his shoulders and said, "All those in favor of Thomas' crazy plan, say 'aye.'"

The rest in the room gradually smiled, looked at each other in eagerness, raised their hands simultaneously, and said "Aye" in unison.

(Chapter 10 coming soon)


	10. Chapter X

_Sigh! I thought I had broken my own record again. It's only 13 pages long in my word-processor (including the flashback part; I just did the old cut-and-paste with that). It's one page short of the longest chapter in this entire fanfic to date. Again, thanks for the reviews. Double digits they are… I'm happy. Likewise, my apologies go out to those who loathe verbosity in their fanfics. This chapter could have been shorter, though, but I was having great difficulty in find a spot into which I could drive a wedge through to break it in half. I simply had to keep the angsty ideas pouring out before they consumed me! 'Self-preservation,' remember? Needless to say, I even had to go back and use previous chapters as reference to keep all aspects of the story within continuity (Man, how redundant can one get?)._

_Oh, yeah… the disclaimers are the same as always. I promise more Action/Adventure in future chapters.  
_

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER X**

At exactly 0600 hours, almost two days after starting work at Warehouse No. 5, Thomas was in the base hangar, waiting for Van and Irvine. As expected, the Blade Liger's and the Lightning Saix's engines were being warmed-up by none other than Dr. D (with a few personnel at his heels, whom he hired as his crew); doubtless he appeared vigilant in searching for any flaws that may turn up in the mechanisms of the two zoids.

Though he had nothing personal against him, Thomas still didn't choose to talk to the habitually kooky scientist, even if it was solely for the purpose of being civil. Besides, Dr. D himself didn't even make any attempts in reaching out to crack up a conversation with the former acquaintance that is the blonde lieutenant while his team puts things together… not that he wanted him to. Thomas didn't have anything to say to him in the first place. After all, there was something weird about Dr. D's personality that he couldn't exactly put his finger on. It was as if he was dead to all bodily sensualities from the neck down. It was presumably from being too absorbed in his work… presiding in it twenty-four-seven… that he wasn't able to set some time aside to look for someone suitable enough to be his lifetime partner. That made the younger Schubaltz feel rather queasy and freaked-out that he had to make a new resolution for himself that he was in no way going to end up like Dr. D, decrepitude and all.

But Dr. Konrad Koebner, the distinguished psychologist with whom Thomas had the opportunity of spending a cathartic session with, is single as well… a matter that Thomas' wits couldn't help alluding. Though Koebner and Dr. D have that as something in common, Dr. Koebner's fatherly distinctiveness is noticeably nowhere near Dr. D's off-centeredness. All things considered, Koebner's being eventually unmarried had noble obligations backing it up. He had to cancel a lot of his life plans and put many more on hold so that his younger siblings could find their feet in life. Although things had to be left unsaid, obviously such was undoubtedly achievement and fulfillment enough for someone who probably has a soul a lot older and wisdom-endowed than anyone else. After getting to know Koebner, Thomas may have to relinquish some stereotypes he had about bachelors.

Although an approximate of ten hours was spent taking turns in sleeping (a commodity that has become more of a luxury for someone working in the military), Thomas still felt remarkably tired. Of course, what would one expect from having one's circadian rhythm disrupted by being cooped up in a warehouse, seeing sunlight for the first time after forty-four hours? Although the sight of the sun rising over the horizon usually picked his mood up before, this time it made him feel absolutely worn out. All he wanted to do right now was to go back to bed, with eyelids tightly sewed shut.

But more importantly at that moment, he also wanted to talk to Van, and ask him without pulling any punches why he acted the way he did. Looking for those answers was worth pre-empting his sleep.

Thomas carried on waiting. He let his eyesight scan the vicinity idly. Laid prearranged before him on a small makeshift table were the surveillance cameras that their group had just completed assembling and testing. He kept glancing back at it over and over as a feeble way of killing time, but after a while the level of boredom was starting to reach the threshold that was as much as what his sanity can take. 'Van surely is taking his sweet time,' he thought.

The antemeridian sun had just lifted itself off the mountainous horizon. The unusually warmer weather that morning had Thomas almost overcome by stupor. The past months had been chilly, and this longed-for meteorological glitch was just too inviting. From where he was, the lieutenant's wakefulness started to flicker. Dozing off every now and then, he remained seated next to the whole display, with legs crossed and jaw resting lazily on one of his palms. It made him feel like a shopkeeper advertising his electronic wares in a flea market on a slow, unprofitable day. The only thing missing in the picture was the generically ridiculous salesman attire… that is, tweed coat and pants, and a checkered tie to go along with it.

He had mixed feelings while waiting. He was anticipatory in finding out from Van what his problem really was that made him behave the way he did back at the main conference room and in the base lobby roughly two days back. He still might act similarly when he meets him this morning, but he wasn't going to make that stand in the way of finding the truth behind his conduct unbecoming of someone who was supposed to be his friend. At the same time, he hates the idea of seeing Irvine's supercilious face again, for fear he might not be able to hold himself back this time. He's the last person the lieutenant wanted to hear from.

He let his mind wander as he continued his gratuitous enterprise. While he commends Sebastian for pointing out the missing audio-abilities of the gadgets, it wasn't doing anything to help the situation… and he hasn't even started on the difficulty of camouflaging these optic instruments. Though he and the rest were able to give the cameras a 'multi-angle' feature, he still thinks it won't cover much ground, not to mention making them less inconspicuous if the flexible part is made to move freely along its axis when browsing their respective areas of responsibility. Other flaws in the plan came rushing to him all at once that a self-inflicted slap on the face was in order to keep his mind off something that was invariably going to be Van and Irvine's problem in the end. Besides, he had better plans and better designs in mind reserved for his own improvised two-way stakeout system, and there was no way he was going to swap horses in midstream now. Thinking about it alone placed an impish smile on the young Schubaltz's face.

As his mind continued to fly around, with a rate faster that before, he started thinking back to the day he nervously yet wholeheartedly confronted his older brother. He never holds any grudges against Karl, but he was just too appalled at how the whole face-off turned out, mostly because of those provoking revelations he had uncovered that day. Right until now, it hadn't sunk in entirely yet.

_Karl: "Inasmuch as you hate to admit it, you just don't have it in you, Thomas. I'm sorry."_

_Thomas: "What are you talking about, Karl? I may have the slowest zoid, but when something goes wrong out there, in a lot of instances I end up saving Van's ass!"_

_Karl: "Almost frying yours in the process!"_

_Thomas: "Is this about the whole Mount Isolina incident?"_

_Karl: "Partly. You may think you've become a great problem solver who can break any deadlock that comes your way on the battlefield. I'm afraid a lot of superior officers view your actions as being carried out with utter carelessness."_

_Thomas: "So I guess it doesn't help me if I told you that I realized I become quick-thinking in tight situations? C'mon, Karl! It's a war situation. It's not like I planned these things to happen. You of all people should understand that!"_

_Karl: "That's exactly the problem! You don't plan at all! You just charge in without at least coordinating with your other teammates. You're lucky to still be alive."_

_Thomas: "W-wha…? How the hell can I…?"_

_Karl: "Even in tight situations, you should always squeeze in a few seconds to plan out… quickly inform your teammates about what you're about to do, so they could act accordingly. Unfortunately, you fail to do such. If you think you've a newfound ability of quick-thinking, you're seriously mistaken, Thomas!"_

_Thomas: "Now wait just a second here. So when it's Van who pulls stunts…"_

_Karl: "Let me remind you, Thomas, that the Dibison's purpose is to bring on heavy-duty artillery and is never useful for its speed, unlike the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix. Aside from having good leadership skills, Van knows his Blade Liger well… both its feel and its movement. He knows it very well that it seems both of them are one whenever they ride off. That's why I'm not worried if Van tries to do the impossible. As for Irvine, though he's been a mercenary, he's as experienced in combat as any well-trained soldier can be. That's probably why he's the right man to tame the Lightning Saix."_

_Thomas: "What are you insinuating? That I'm not really needed in this whole outfit?"_

_Karl: "You tend to limit yourself by relying heavily on your gadgets. With that, to tell you frankly, it'll be difficult for you to take on what Van and Irvine can. As a superior officer, and as your brother, I don't think you're ready for a better zoid, other than what you have right now."_

_Thomas: "How do you know?"_

_Karl: "How do I know? As I recall, you keep knocking yourself senseless out there if not landing yourself frequently in the hospital wing!"_

It made him wonder what he was really doing all this time in the Guardian Force. Was he actually achieving what he originally dreamed for… a life of adventure and self-rediscovery? Or was he a mere mascot placed here simply for others' comic relief? Seeing him as he was, an exciting journey into an unpredictable future wasn't going to happen; he thought in defeat that geeks and adventure are like water and oil that just don't mix. Like Sebastian, he guessed that he might just as well live his life one day at a time, steering clear for minefields that would definitely lead to boo-boos. The concept of being stationed at Documentations, with the load of paperwork made unreasonable in any way possible (courtesy of Colonel Meier), simply made the whole thing more beyond the pale. By itself, it was already embarrassing for everyone to think that pencil pushing was the only thing you'll ever be good at.

He thought back again at Gisela and Sebastian, and their stories. It saddened him for a while there that these two potentially brilliant individuals had to have their decisions be perfunctorily taken control of by other people, directly or otherwise. It was different for Thomas. For him, it's as if it was every boy's dream to be a member of the Guardian Force. They're the ones being looked-up to. To be a soldier of the Guardian Force meant being one of the brave and revered strong-ones. Joining the Guardian Force had only proven to be a tongue-in-cheek experience for the blonde lieutenant, however.

He was now starting to lose his patience while waiting for Van and Irvine. His beeper had been silent for a long time, and he has absolutely no idea if he had to report back immediately to Documentations right away. He just wanted to get the whole resentful affair over with so he can get things in order to start setting up his proposed autonomous scheme. Somehow, Thomas still wanted to break the long-established stereotypes about geeks, though he still strongly disagrees with Romy when he insinuated about him actually being one. Every one of them being involved, on his or her prerogative, in such a covert unorthodox activity gladly meant so much less hassle to say the very least.

The ennui was just too much. The rumbling of the Liger's and the Saix's engines in the background started to sound like a hackneyed unrecognizable blur. Thomas stood up to do a bit of stretching to keep his blood flowing; he was beginning to get a cramp from sitting down too long. In time, the ringing in his ears dissipated, as he again can clearly hear, from a good distance, Dr. D shouting his orders to his aides. But he too was starting to hear another familiar voice in the milieu calling out his morning greeting. Still thinking he was dreaming, as his level of consciousness was predominantly drowsy, he ignored it altogether. Soon enough, that same voice called out again in another greeting.

"Good morning, Thomas. You look like you've been up all night."

He turned around to see the amiable Dr. Koebner standing behind him, clad in the usual white smock-gown. Now that was one person Thomas wouldn't feel weird hanging around with.

"Hey there, doc," greeted Thomas enthusiastically in return. "I didn't hear you calling."

"Clearly," said Dr. Koebner while chuckling. "I've been trying to get through to you for the past five minutes. I was afraid for a while there that I won't be able to pull you out of your reverie. I haven't seen you around in weeks. How've you been doing lately?"

"O.K., I guess," said Thomas as he blushed in slight embarrassment, thinking back at how he sobbed his heart out during that session of his. But it was unmistakable that the psychologist was completely professional and had no pun intended. "Not giving up on a love that never was is harder than I thought. I guess there's no use blubbering now over something I couldn't work my magic on."

"That's a start," said Dr. Koebner. "Without a doubt, you'll never lose affection for Fiona, but moving on is healthy too. Not to pry or anything, but what are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"Nothing special really… just handing over this bunch of equipment to the heroes of Planet Zi," answered Thomas disparagingly while glancing edgily at his timepiece.

"Who? Van and Irvine?" asked the psychologist.

"Bingo," Thomas said. "I knew it wouldn't be hard for anyone to figure that out."

Dr. Koebner simply smiled. It wouldn't take a genius to say that he was quite used to hearing potshots like that. It was apparently an occupational hazard for psychologists, but it was rather obvious that Thomas didn't mean anything destructive about it. Naturally, the younger Schubaltz realizes the error of his ways in time and readily apologized anyway. "Sorry, I'm sounding like someone who got out of the wrong side of the bed. I just don't know how long I have to sit here waiting for them. They're not the only ones with things to do around here."

"I agree… every part is needed to make a whole, just as each element has its own function to keep the system running," Dr. Koebner said, reiterating Thomas' words with a gaze that was a tad more intense… a tip-off of deviance contrasted against the customary background of fatherliness. For a while there, the lieutenant looked curiously at Dr. Koebner; that 'part-of-a-whole' analogy struck him substantially.

"It's really nice to see you again, though," said Thomas afterwards. "By the way, what are _you_ doing in a place such as this early in the morning?"

"Well, you know how people are… the older you get, the less sleep you'll require," answered the smiling Dr. Koebner. "Besides, I thought going down to the hangar to take a look at these prized zoids would be a cool and delightful change to my routine itinerary. Bumping into you here's an additional fringe benefit, I should tell you. I wouldn't want you to think I'm here to remind you not to skip your next appointment with me, hahaha!"

"Not at all, don't worry… I never would have guessed," said Thomas while laughing along. "I'm curious, though… has there been anything else you've been doing before, besides being a psychologist? Since we're on the topic of routine itineraries…"

"Yes, I have," answered Dr. Koebner straightly. "I believe I mentioned a preview of it when we first met down at the cafeteria…"

"Sorry," apologized Thomas. "I guess I wasn't paying much attention then."

"No, no, don't be," reassured the psychologist. "It wasn't too elaborately said for anyone to remember anyway."

"Well, I'm interested now," said Thomas as he propped up his back in newfound alacrity, like a little child anticipatory of a new toy.

"Whoa there… hold your horses, kid," said Koebner gleefully. "Give the old man some time first to go back through the rusty recesses of his memory. I'm not as young as I would like to think I am. Now, let me see… right after mother and father passed away, I got myself involved in a lot of manual labor… like transporting cargo, washing zoids and dishes, and cleaning those big exhaust tanks to name a few… uh, I think I had a contractual one in between as a riveter in construction for about a month or so… it was a long time ago, so I couldn't remember everything. But what I do remember is sitting down on my bed one night finally realizing after over a year that I wasn't at all cut out for this. I had a bad back, but I kept ignoring the symptoms… just like anyone would do if they want what's remaining of their family to survive. You'd take on anything to make ends meet. I finally got to my limits when sharp lightning pain started shooting down my legs whenever I would carry more than I could handle. I was the only breadwinner; the sibling next to me was in her early teens back then, and we're five in the family. When I finally got some time to think, I realized everything would be pointless and stupid if I were to succumb eventually to exhaustion or disability. But I couldn't just take the risk of giving up on work; it was still a source of income anyhow. The odds are against you in the job market if you're a human psychology graduate. Phew, is it just me or is it getting hot in here?"

The temperature rise wasn't just anything anyone would ignore in two shakes. The heat from the engines of the Blade Liger and the Lightning Saix was making the inside of the hangar warmer, and this was a tad too much for someone whose body finally forgot the feel of backbreaking work. After removing his white smock-gown and folding it gingerly over his arm, the psychologist wiped his heavily sweated yet faintly wrinkled forehead with his kerchief. Thomas was quite used to the warmth, though, and kept his upper garment on, lest he'd be apprehended again for not wearing the proper uniform. After being able to cool himself off a little, Dr. Koebner continued his recollection.

"It never occurred to me that I'd one day be able to totally get out of that way of living. But I wouldn't call that particularly laborious yearlong experience of mine a godforsaken waste either, because in fairness, I've learned a lot from it and it definitely build up my character. I guess it's a higher power's provision to make up for those who work hard… y'know, _Deus ex machina_ and all that. And I guess landing myself in another secretarial job thereafter was quite providential too. Sure, it's practically being underemployed again and I was barely breaking even at first despite working fulltime… but I kept thinking that I was much better off this way, so all in all, I was contented. Unfortunately, as my younger siblings grew older, the demand of tuition fees and other necessities became added pressure. A coworker of mine managed to find out about my predicament, so he recommended me a courier job… which I thought was a bit fly-by-night at first. It was not without its risks, just like any job in that line would have, … y'know, like getting yourself killed for instance. But I wasn't blessed with that many options back then either. So I took it. I just thought of it this way: at least I'd be able to use my expertise in psychology in gauging those whom I could trust, and in keeping others from seeing through me. The most damage I got, luckily, was just a grazed shoulder caused by a stray bullet fired during a failed negotiation between my employer and a customer."

"Wow," exhaled a dumbfounded Thomas. That was one side of the psychologist he didn't know. But then again, who did?

"Wow indeed," said Dr. Koebner… ostensibly quite amazed himself. "Because I found out eventually that that former employer of mine was actually one of a number of 'unknown' people trying to infiltrate these underground syndicates illegally trafficking zoid-parts. He seemed to believe that putting a stop to them would be a big leap towards ending the war. Well, now that the war's over, I would think he might have been successful with his plan to a certain point. No wonder it was so easy for me to get out of the whole courier business he spearheaded; I figured he needed all the help he can get, but didn't want to involve us as much as possible when the lid was blown off. Being disavowed in the end seemed like a failsafe guarantee of our own safety. I don't know what happened to him since then, but I'm pretty sure he's one tough guy to bring down. I never spilled the beans about him and how he looked like, and I've not the slightest idea where he is at the moment. Besides, why would I rat on someone who helped me a great deal?"

"NO, NO… Wow to _you_, Dr. Koebner… hands down," interjected Thomas firmly in reaction to the psychologist's modesty. "I… I-I don't know what to say about all this. I'm just a-… absolutely amazed at what lengths people would go to for those they hold dear, and I applaud you highly for that! I didn't have any younger siblings to watch out for… it was just myself I had to worry about."

"Come now…" began Dr. Koebner, still unassuming, though a bit taken aback about the lieutenant's quasi-outburst. "It's not anyone's fault if some of them are born into realities different from how others would perceive theirs… you know that, don't you?"

"But next to you, I'm downright pathetic," reasoned Thomas despondently. "I thought I could proudly boast to the world that I managed to matriculate myself on my own through my university years, thinking _that_ was achievement enough. I can't help to think that most had it harder that me. Somehow, it makes all I've gone through rather… trivial."

"I'd like to hear that chapter of your life," said Dr. Koebner, looking at Thomas with his usual sanguine paternal gaze.

Thomas was silent for a few seconds while looking at the pre-installed cameras on the small makeshift platform. "It's just me talking, doc, and that's something not worth listening to, though. And forgive me for saying this, but the last thing I need right now is being pitied!"

"A person who simply pities someone else wouldn't care less about the other's story now, would he?" continued Dr. Koebner. "There is another thing I'd like you to learn from all this, Thomas. Everyone is exceptional in his or her own way. Solely the number of zoid battles one has faced can't measure greatness; if you ask me, it's one of the stupidest ways of considering one's worth… no offense. I've always hated warfare. If others can't appreciate you in the way you're supposed to be appreciated, well… too bad for them, for they don't know what they're missing. It's a big loss on their part if they haven't gotten to know you. So just be you; keep that honesty. Now, as for how you managed to support yourself through your academic years, I'd like to hear about that. Please… I insist."

Thomas gazed back at the psychologist with his emerald-green eyes in a way that he himself didn't know was piercing enough. He sighed his fresh surrender, and with that, it didn't take long for him to open up. It seemed like he finally felt the presence of a being that would actually listen to the narrations of that particular segment of his life – or any other chapter in his life for that matter – without the fear, for the first time, that all this would only fall on deaf ears instead. Thomas nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"Let me know when I'm rambling, O.K.?" the lieutenant said ultimately with a corner of his mouth curling up into a subtle grin, though trying to sound for a laugh. "I'm not exactly what one would call having a trust fund stashed somewhere which I can use in case of eventualities. I lost my dad at an early age, I told you that; my mom followed shortly. Lucky for Karl, he got accepted into the Academy right away despite being considerably younger than anyone else in his class; being exceptional, he got into the Royal Airmen Scholarship program, sustaining him during his entire education and training. But that wasn't without a price. He had to pay them back in other ways, like serving in far-flung areas in between semesters, for instance. His allowance was barely sufficient, so he couldn't send me money, as much as he wanted to. He even rarely got the chance to visit me because of all that. But I get to hear his voice every now and then through what can be the beginnings of my Beek communicator. At least I could get in touch with him in that way, asking him how he was, etcetera. You'd imagine how worried he could get sometimes.

"You've probably figured by now how much I wanted to become like my dad. I wanted to follow Karl into the Academy as soon as I could, but under the circumstances, I had been sidetracked to go into University instead, which was still to me a welcome change of pace. At least it'd give me chance to hone my skills for computers, gadgetry and mathematics much further. I didn't have the same opportunities like my brother, though, so I still ended up paying the whole amount of tuition on entrance. With that, I had to eat only twice (sometimes once) a day, and take on a number of odd jobs, just like you did. As I could recall, the most daring odd job I'd ever taken on was cleaning windows of skyscrapers. Luckily, computer knowledge came natural to me, so I took advantage of that. I did some after-class hours in zoid repair facilities, on top of doing minor repair jobs for some professors and people living about the place I rented back then. Somehow, I could manage… and was just too happy to say to Karl that he shouldn't keep losing sleep over me. I can only imagine the rigorous training he was in then, so I didn't want to pile up his worries as much as possible."

"You've had it tough too, kid… that's for sure," said Dr. Koebner in appreciation. "And I'm not just saying this to make you feel good about yourself. All I can say is that your parents did a good job in bringing you and your brother up during their short time here. I wouldn't think for a second that you came from a rich clan."

"Hmph, that's what most people would want to think, that the Schubaltzes are a rich family, and that people like me have it all easy," said Thomas disgustedly. "I can't help being judged often (and mercilessly at that) by others because of such a preconception. Perhaps I don't need to expand on that any further; I think now you understand the position I'm in. People keep saying whatever they want to say… whatever would win the masses. Things aren't made any easier too if everyone thinks you're a proverbial idiot."

"It's unfair… people… and life," said Dr. Koebner placidly. "They never were, they never have been, and maybe they never will be…"

"You can say that again…" interrupted Thomas again, though in agreement with Dr. Koebner. "I mean, look at you. Look at what you've been through. But then again… look how you turned out to be."

"Well, you'll have to keep in mind too that these people don't know you, and most of them will probably not have the chance to," said the psychologist. "Understand too that these same people do change over time… for the better, maybe, if given the right motivation. Besides, you can't change the world solely according to how you want the world to be. Improvement must also come from the individual, and that means you."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Thomas said.

"But when it comes to how I eventually turned out to be…" continued Dr. Koebner. "Well, I can only say I've got the advantage of having a lot more years behind me than you do. I wasn't like this overnight. Before, I can be a very nasty and difficult person to deal with."

"Again, I never would have guessed," said Thomas with a smile.

"Like I said," continued Dr. Koebner. "You build up and polish your character over the years."

"I've never took on courier jobs before, though," reasoned Thomas again. "I would definitely want to, probably for the thrill of it. But I most likely would have chickened-out if the opportunity presents itself before me."

"You've done reconnaissance before," said Koebner. "It's in many ways the same as being a dispatch rider, only it's a little bit more complicated because for one, you don't have your zoid to back you up. You're on your own there. And how would you know if you're not up to it unless you tried?"

There was silence for a few seconds, only to be broken by Thomas' soft grunted response: "Maybe because I'm an idiot."

Dr. Koebner heard what Thomas said. Though he understood clearly what the younger Schubaltz was going through and how he still had to struggle a lot to find his niche, he was starting to get annoyed at how he kept lambasting himself. "There's one thing I don't understand about you, Thomas," he said plainly. "You're a smart and talented young man, and you've got a lot to be proud of, yet you keep berating yourself. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but why do you still feel or think of yourself as someone too blemished that you're not worthy even of the air you breathe? You've got intuition that you may know about, but you somehow refuse to use it. How about taking into account getting yourself through these past years on you own effort, not to mention learning a lot of things just by hearing them on the grapevine? I don't know about you, but I think those are the makings of greatness!"

"Look, I hope you're not getting the wrong idea, but I'm not asking for any sugar-coated approval from anyone or anything here…" said Thomas.

"But I'm giving it to you anyway!" rebuked Dr. Koebner, his voice slightly raised. "Now you listen to me: you've a good soul and a brave heart, but you're too blinded enough by your anger and frustration to see that. You let others affect you, and that's one of your greater weaknesses. That is the most sincere observation I have about you, and I'm not saying this as a therapist but as a friend."

Thomas stopped dead on his tracks in stunned silence. He didn't have a something as much as a naysay for what Dr. Koebner said. The psychologist watched silently as the lieutenant turned his head away in defeat to gaze at the sunlit horizon. He felt that it would take some time, but eventually Thomas would finally come to terms with taking the challenge of honing his potential to the fullest. As for Thomas, Dr. Koebner may be quite the unlikely audience, partly because – as far as he could remember in his own family – he saw glimpses of his own father. He knew how parents would accept their offspring unconditionally anytime, just as expected of them. But finally he came to realize that there was actually someone not related to him by blood who had accepted him as a man of distinguished valor.

"Don't worry, Thomas," added Dr. Koebner. "I don't think you're an idiot… not for once. I think you're just… misunderstood."

Thomas again sighed deeply afterwards. He pulled out a seat and offered it to Dr. Koebner before sitting himself on another one. Koebner accepted the offer of taking the weight off his feet naturally; standing for a long time can make one's legs sore too. "Sorry, I don't have any refreshments to offer you right now," said Thomas.

"Not to worry," said Dr. Koebner. While sitting down, both of them saw a better view of the scenic yet precipitous landscape. Thomas' watch read 0623 hours, and he wondered what was taking Van and Irvine so long. He figured that instead of beating himself up about their tardiness (obviously, Van or Irvine wouldn't care about it at all if he did, anyway), he just raised his arms to the back of his head and laid himself back and enjoyed the scenery. 'The picture of the sun rising isn't too taxing anymore than it had been earlier this morning, thank goodness,' thought Thomas. He supposed it might have been the company that fixed it, though the enjoyment would have been even better if Romy and Annie were there. Moments of quietude followed thereafter.

"Hey doc, have you ever been in love?" asked Thomas finally, still gazing at the distant mountainous horizon.

"Yes, once," said Dr. Koebner openly though not at once. "It was a long time ago, while I was earning my degree in Europa. I fell in love at first sight with a classmate of mine. The picture of her beautiful face is still a fresh memory to me. She had long silky black hair which she wasn't afraid to let down. We got to be close friends. At times, I couldn't help wondering why she would play hard to get. She would act as if she couldn't take a hint about me making my moves. I would ask her to dinner or to the theater, and she would more often than not bring her other friends along… that is, if she wouldn't turn me down because she had a paper to finish. Somehow I knew she started noticing my feelings for her, as subtly as I tried to express them, but any indication of reciprocation wasn't there. One day, I grew tired of it, so I mustered all the courage I could come up with, and told her how I really feel… in the hope that she'll feel more comfortable conveying her feelings for me if there were any, or that she won't be afraid to reciprocate my feelings if ever she had any doubts at first about me having any. Sadly, what I thought was her pretending to be uninterested in me at first… it wasn't actually true. She told me I was more of a brother to her. I also found out from her that she had already been engaged for a year, but didn't dare tell me until it was the right time to let me down softly… then again, letdowns are not at all soft. You know what comes next. I was so overcome by hurt and grief that I wanted to be anywhere but Europa. Like you, I know how it feels to have your whole world crash around you. I did leave shortly, though, but that was when I heard of my parents' death. After that, I concerned myself entirely on my siblings and on work until I reached an age that most people would consider to be 'too late.' I never gave myself a chance to fall in love again, maybe because I was too hurt or too busy to go through the same thing all over again, or maybe because of the fear of getting burned badly for the second time. But unrequited as my affection had been, but I'll always hang on to those memories I have with her."

"I'm sorry," empathized Thomas. "I always thought… with you and your other siblings… I… I didn't know you had…"

"…The same fate as yours in love?" finished Dr. Koebner. "I guess it's true after all that birds of the same feather manage to recognize each other's presence. Like I said, everyone is loved at one point in his or her life…"

"That bit about birds of the same feather is plausible," said Thomas. "But I can't say I'd think the same about that on being loved at one point of your life."

"Always keep your eyes peeled, Thomas," said Koebner euphoniously. "When most men reach my age, and remain bachelors, they tend get bored because they feel they'd seen it all, and that there's nothing more left that drives them… and with that, they become tired about it, not to mention desperate at times. Then again, I may be old but that doesn't mean I wouldn't welcome any new challenge. This time, I might have to agree with you on not giving up on love just yet. But a young man like you… well, it's not at all going to take you fifty years to meet your soul mate. Trust me."

"Did you ever get to see her again?" Thomas asked.

"No," said Dr. Koebner sedately. "I never see her in our class reunions. All I know about her is that she's still married to the same man (happily, I might presume), and according to unconfirmed rumors, her husband's a citizen of the Eastern Continent, and that she's residing there as well, most likely for good."

"But, the Eastern Continent…" started Thomas slowly and bewilderedly. "As far as I know, not much communication has been established there. If I remember my geography right, to get to the Eastern Continent, you'll have to pass through the Triangle Daras. And if I remember my Zi history right as well, that's where one of the fragments of the meteor that hit Planet Zi a long time ago impacted. Apparently the impact increased the area's magnetism, mostly focused somewhere just above the ocean bed, so there's no chance for any sea vessel to ever emerge from that location once they get caught in it, unless…"

"Unless what?" queried the psychologist.

"Unless you'd device a vessel that'll dig deep enough below the ocean bed to bypass the magnetism," said Thomas, as he brainstormed through the possibility. "But you've got the extreme heat of the planet's core to deal with then. I don't know… maybe they have zoids that are far too advanced than ours. No one knows in the first place what kind of zoids, or people for that matter, from the Eastern Continent are… which brings me to ask, have you met her husband before?"

"I've never met the guy," said Koebner. "No one has."

With that, the psychologist let his vision wander as well into the mountainous ranges that border the Red River Base territory. This time, there wasn't a doubt that Thomas unintentionally disturbed the dogs that were supposed to be left lying asleep in the psychologist's past.

In the hope of thwarting the painful reminiscing, Thomas said, "Y'know, a few nights back, we all got together to the far side of the nearest town on a night out… and we might just do it again anytime soon. We'd like you to come along, too."

"By 'we', do you mean Van and Irvine…?" interjected Dr. Koebner, a smidgen cheekily at that (if it's as a form of sweet retaliation, we may never know).

"My coworkers in Documentations," cut in Thomas hurriedly, mildly irritated at Dr. Koebner's mischievous repartee, but otherwise without a bit of skin scratched off his nose. "Romy and Annie… you just gotta meet them…"

"I'll consider that offer of yours, kid," said Dr. Koebner, both eyes still genuinely lit up in smiles nonetheless. "But being around people a little bit less than half my age, I don't know if I could keep up. Remember, I'm not as young as I want to think I am."

"I'll try to remember that," laughed Thomas.

"And don't worry about me," added the amiable quinquagenarian. "It was a long time ago, and I've gotten over it. Rest assured I would fall in love with someone who'll love me back before I die… I'll bet my life on that. Now, I'd better get going back inside. I believe that young man over there with the spiky hair and the pony tail is the one you've been waiting for all morning."

Thomas turned his attention to where Dr. Koebner was pointing. Sure enough, there was Van talking to Dr. D, seemingly asking the latter how the zoids are doing. The younger Schubaltz scanned the place for other newcomers but couldn't find Irvine anywhere. Moments later, Dr. D pointed Van in the direction where Thomas and the psychologist were.

"Well, I'll be seeing you around, Thomas," said Dr. Koebner as he planted a friendly cuff on one of blonde lieutenant's shoulders.

Thomas simply waved his brief goodbye. When Koebner left, Thomas turned his head back to where Van was earlier. There he was approaching his spot without hurry, yet with a suggestion of hesitance admixed in his movements. In the background, the blonde lieutenant was pretty sure he saw Dr. D with a ghastly look on his face that was as if he had seen a ghost so scary that he'd give anything for it to be exorcised out of the Red River Base. Presumably, he must have seen Dr. Koebner again after a long time. The sight of it provided Thomas at least with a moment's entertainment somehow. He thought it was too bad that Marianne wasn't there to see it.

Finally, Van arrived and gave his customary casual greeting, though sounding a bit awkward this time. "Hey, Thomas. Are those the…"

"If I'm not mistaken, it's either your watch broke down or seeing me to discuss this with you in person is practically nonexistent in your priority list," said Thomas icily and straightforwardly. "I may be losing sleep unnecessarily by running stupid errands for this base, but I think I'm still sharp enough to recall vividly that we agreed to meet here at 0600 hours sharp, and not 30 minutes later. I don't know, you gotta tell me what it is… coz obviously, it's keeping you from taking me seriously. Who knows? Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all if I'd hear it straight from you. So, what is it then? Is it my surname?"

"I'm sorry, Thomas," came Van's reply, sounding more serious this time. "Something came up."

"Uh-huh… I don't see the trusty mercenary along with you either. I find that surprising, given that your tandem is virtually inseparable."

"He had a couple of things to deal with, too."

Thomas chuckled softly to himself. "With the two of you, there's always something…"

"Hey, you don't have to believe me if you…" said Van, starting to sound annoyed.

"Yeah, whatever, 'pal'," cut in Thomas derisively. "Let's just get on with it, shall we?"

Van didn't speak any further; he knew he wasn't exactly in the position to volley out insults to the younger Schubaltz. Thomas, on the other hand, carried on with the instructions on how to operate the satellite-fed cameras that he and the others finished assembling a few hours back. It was so explicitly explained that Van never had a single opportunity to interject and push his buttons (something he'd very often take delight in doing), or boss him around on about how this should have been that or how that would be better set with this. It seemed the blonde lieutenant was ready for this. Thomas was the electronics expert, so he virtually had the upper hand in the discussion.

Finally, after another half hour, the information session was finished. Without further ado thereafter, Thomas expeditiously proceeded to sitting himself down again the same as earlier, palms of both hands behind his head, facing the wide exit of the base hangar to resume his enjoyment of the mountainous scene, not caring if Van was still there or if he wanted to join him in his endeavor. He had to wait for Irvine to come anyway, as much as he abhorred even the mere thought of it. He hated to repeat the whole lecture again, especially to someone of the likes of Irvine.

Instances of awkwardness predominated while waiting for Irvine, though not so much affecting Thomas as Van. The former just kept observing the soothing landscape without another moment's care. The latter thought of conjuring up a few questions to somehow try to fill in the dead air while waiting for the other one to arrive; as silly or mundane as most of them sounded, he still asked them anyway, hoping to get any indication of possibly a lightening of Thomas' mood. Each time, though, the younger Schubaltz would answer as tersely as he liked, breaking every opportunity for each verbal attempt to be lengthened and sustained into a full conversational chain. Thomas purposefully made sure he kept the dialogue sounding laconic as much as possible.

"Who was that you were talking to a while back?" asked Van finally, albeit still trying to fill in the dead air.

"A friend… a good friend who wouldn't leave you out to hang," said Thomas blatantly, while looking piercingly at his co-lieutenant. Thomas was obviously trying to bring up what happened some time back, and wanted to solve the mystery of his supposed friend's indifferent attitude. Van was cornered. This time, it seemed Thomas had him on the palm of his hand.

"If it's about the whole thing regarding that back at the main…" said Van, finding no other recourse as to what else there was to say.

"Yeah… now that you've brought it up, what about it?" blurted Thomas out sarcastically, with a feeling tantamount to ultimately finding an opportunity at the desired gist in the curt conversation. He finally had Van where he wanted him.

Van kept quiet where he was. Seemingly he was uncomfortable himself to discuss the circumstances behind his avoidant demeanor. Thomas, on the other hand, was all too willing to tackle the subject.

"What is it, Van? What is it that you really think? Spit it out!"

Van made every effort to look straight into Thomas' naturally unnerving emerald-green eyes. "It's because I'm worried about Fiona."

"What?" uttered Thomas, sarcasm and acrimony fading immediately in his mien and suddenly with a timbre of his voice morphing into a sound of concern and fear about what might be the matter with his love-interest for Van to say he was worried this much about her. Van was however too keen to notice this sudden change in Thomas' disposition.

"What about Fiona?" asked Thomas for a second time.

Van didn't go on immediately after that; he continued staring at Thomas, this time with more confidence in penetrating through the primarily piercing glance of the former. Thomas, on the other hand, tried to keep his face straight for fear he'd lose control of the situation with the whole thing backfiring on him. He knew he could trust Romy and the others about his secret affections for Fiona, so he thought there was possibly no way this would have gotten out in the open. But then again the blonde lieutenant somehow felt the whole issue would have already found its way to the surface by now, owing to his being transparent and easy to read at times.

"What's with the look, Van?" asked Thomas, trying in a supposedly gossamer attempt not to sound too defensive. "As far as I'm concerned, I've got every right to be worried too. She's also my friend, in case you didn't know…"

'And inasmuch as you hate the idea of it,' the younger Schubaltz added in his thoughts.

"Just a friend to you? I find that hard to believe," muttered Van softly, just enough for Thomas to hear.

"I don't quite follow you…" said Thomas in a tone suitable for arguing against any allegation.

A hint of apprehensiveness started to infiltrate Van's voice. "She never said anything out loud, but it makes me think she's sorry for some thing or things she may have said or done… or not done… to you… I don't know. It's like she's trying to make up for it in kind."

Glimmers of hope came Thomas' way. Van may be uncomfortable divulging that particular concern of his regarding the ancient Zoidian, and the setting in which it was said may not be exactly appropriate, but it undoubtedly picked Thomas' spirits up. He may not be viewed by Fiona as a knight in shining armor at the very least for the moment (definitely not _her _knight by a long shot). But after hearing this, he bit by bit conceded that he might just be able to make his way to her heart… slowly but surely. He tried his best, though, to keep this brand new optimism of his at a down low. All the same, he'll have to tackle any compromise and go through the everyday base politics with the presumption that everyone has already found out about his deep admiration for the Zoidian beauty (expecting the worse, as he might have placed it himself).

Clearing up his voice (also inconspicuously at that), Thomas said, "What's the matter with that? She never said anything out loud, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't… like I said."

"If you think you can't just leave it at that, I'd be willing to talk to her about it to clear things up if I may be allowed…"

"No, that won't be necessary," said Van hastily.

"Why not?"

"Because…" stressed Van, pausing in mid-phrase. "It'd be out of place if…"

"Out of… _what_?" spluttered Thomas. "What d'you have to be so worried about with me talking to her? It's not like anything out of the ordinary will happen from talking. But if you're that worked up about it, why don't you go talk to her yourself?"

"I tried, but she wouldn't say a word to me," said Van.

'It may be farfetched but it's not an impossibility for someone as intelligent and as angelically beautiful as Fiona to be concerned about me for once without wanting to be pressured by you into telling you and the rest of you guys out loud what she feels… _and why the hell are you so worried about that_?' was what Thomas wanted to say next, but thinking that it would be dangerously revealing, he withdrew his attempt all the same. Van continued talking, though, but the words weren't falling as fluidly as he intended it to be.

"Lately, amongst ourselves, whenever we'd be talking about you… I wouldn't necessarily say she'd often come to your defense… but she's been sort of saying things that lean towards vindicating you."

On hearing that, Thomas started to lower his previously attentive gaze, his pale eyelids hooding over his eyes after that. He slowly started to shake his head in disgust as he sighed and cracked a faint yet mordant smile. "You should hear yourself speak," snorted Thomas disgustedly as he leaned back on his chair again.

"What was that?" asked Van, beginning to sound apprehensive himself.

"Somehow I had a feeling you'd say that," said Thomas, still with the same cynical smile. "I guess it's alright then if it's just silly old Thomas."

"Now I'm the one who's not getting you," countered Van.

"From the way you constructed that last sentence of yours… I'd say it'd make me think you and the rest haven't been saying anything else but trash about me when I'm not with you. At least now I've a good idea on how the whole lot of you really think or feel about me."

"Hey, I think you're totally misunderstanding what I'm trying to say here…" said Van hurriedly.

"Welcome to my world," interrupted Thomas. Van was at a stalemate; somehow Thomas knew his co-lieutenant was guilty himself of the trash talk after all.

Not sure whether or not his words were convincing enough, Thomas still calmly carried on the conversation, behaving obliviously in the best way he can, hoping that would sufficiently cover any hint of his secret affections for Fiona. "What I find strange, though, is… why else would Fiona want to stick up for me in that case if it wasn't for anything exceptional that I did? As far as I know her…"

"Just drop the act, Thomas," said Van finally, with an unusually serious look. "I know how you really feel about her."

It was like the warm air in the hangar froze in a flash. Thomas eased himself up expressionlessly from where he sat, and faced Van placidly with a gaze planted unwaveringly into the other's brown irises. Apparently, the cat was now out of the bag. Annie proved without an ounce of effort that she's trustworthy of any secret. Romy in contrast may be a goofball, but he knows better than to sell him out. Dr. Koebner told the younger Schubaltz, too, to trust whatever his intuition was telling him, and it was saying that Sebastian and Gisela hadn't anything to do with it. All the same, the tables are unexpectedly turned; he's the one who's trapped this time, and there wasn't any obvious escape. Van had finally gotten straight to the point, and it had Thomas pinned against the wall. There was no other recourse than to coolly surrender; it was not as if he'll get into trouble deeper than it already is anyway.

"I bet it's no secret to you too then, is it?" was the only thing Thomas could say, still keeping his cool but feeling ironically relieved at the same time that it was Van who was hearing all this, amongst all people. He was tired of keeping his feelings for Fiona a secret, and it felt providential for him that this whole issue would finally reveal itself directly to those who were immediately involved – with Van being one of them. He couldn't read Van's thoughts, so he'd never know in time if the other lieutenant will go all possessively feral and lunge at him impulsively without warning. But Thomas had been ready for an encounter such as this for a long time now. On the other end, Van may also calmly retreat and walk away. Still, the blonde lieutenant waited in exhilaration for the sparks to fly.

Out of the blue however, Thomas' military-issued communicator bellowed its startling resonance to convey to him a message, in a manner that was nothing short of offhand. The message commanded him to report back to Documentations right away. "And it's not even 0800 hours. Hmph, always count on the beeper to ruin the moment…" he muttered acerbically under his breath. A while back, the two were about to go on a head-to-head, but the disquieting sound of the communicator in Thomas' pocket immediately made them forget what each wanted to lash out to the other next. The momentum was broken far beyond reparable.

"I'll just go through these over again with Irvine myself…" said Van generically shortly thereafter (pertaining to the satellite-fed cameras placed in arrays before them), needless to say not in a voice that sounded like he wanted to offer some kind of truce for that little argument they had before they parted ways. For sure, he couldn't wait for Thomas to leave the hangar, as the awkwardness has reached its all-time high in so short a time.

"Yeah, you do that," Thomas said nonchalantly without even pausing to look at him as he began to go off on his way. He wasn't sure what would happen next after this unexpected turn of events. He wouldn't know for now how the others in Van's circle of friends would react either. Would it be with torches and steaks, or attempts to kill him in his sleep? He might was well write a note that'd say, 'if you find this message, it means that I'm already dead and you know who killed me,' and stick it in his uniform. Strangely, he never once felt any aftereffect of defeat in the political dynamics of the whole animated conversation he had with Van.

He knew something like this was bound to turn up. The signs were there after all… beginning with the unwelcome ideations that keep popping into his head from the start of this adventure, up to the matter at the main conference room. The spoken exchange wasn't at all pretty, though labeling it as distasteful would have been an overstatement on the other hand. It sounded just like any other common argument would to any onlooker, though it wouldn't have been the case if they only knew the surrounding circumstances. Either way, Thomas didn't need to turn himself back to face Van again. He got the answers he needed to hear, unappealing as the extrication turned out to be in the end. This session had ended for him, and now he had to get back to Documentations right away as previously ordered.

(Chapter XI coming soon)


	11. Chapter XI

_While writing this fanfic, I made some startling discoveries:_

_It's funny sometimes how warm you feel all over when you break your own record… again. Now I've really done it this time!_

_The function allowing users to submit reviews even though they're not logged in has been disabled all along! Anyway, I've enabled it this time… like that'll help increase my reviews. I haven't received any flames so far, but there's always a first time… especially with this type of genre and that type of character I wish to give depth. If I receive any, they'll just be deleted anyway. So there._

_I often find myself lost in a sea of Thomas-bashing fanfics whenever I search for some mature stories I can read on my leisure time. It gets so tiring sometimes to constantly face the conundrum of defying the 'Kill Thomas' bandwagon that strangely never seems to grow old in this part of the internet realm. Oh well._

_I can't believe there are still typos lingering everywhere… even after when I've read and reread them numerous times before submitting them online. It can't be helped, though; I don't have a beta reader. I'd try to get one if I wasn't too busy._

_Alright, alright! Contrary to what I stated previously, I DO make a big deal about reviews! So calling all patrons of Fanfiction… both Thomas- and Non-Thomas-fans alike… READ AND REVIEW! Bwahahahahahaha!_

_Whoa! What am I saying? Hmm, must be a symptom when one takes on a lot more angst than one could handle in a day. So kids, see what angsty stuff can do to you? Too much of it is bad for your health. The Surgeon General has just gotta include this as another one of its warnings! ;)_

_Anyway, enjoy this chapter._

Wild Card 

**CHAPTER XI**

After a few minutes have elapsed, Thomas found himself again in the same dull office. Though he hadn't seen it for a few days now, he felt sure enough that he wouldn't grow to miss it even for once. Naturally, he was the only person there, considering office hours start at 0800, which brought him to ask why he among all people working there was summoned an hour early. He made sure he had all his work wrapped up before they left on their assignment a few days back, so he hadn't the slightest idea what tasks had been left undone, or what other ones he had to undertake next. Unless he was mistaken, this was probably one of Colonel Meier's many ways of getting back at him and his outspoken group.

He languidly started up the air-conditioning and leaned himself back on the wall while waiting for the whole office to cool. Coming from the oven-like hangar and being cramped up afterwards in another room such as the Documentations department flatly made Thomas feel icky all over. As tiny beads of sweat started forming on his forehead, it didn't take him another second more to remove his thick lieutenant's jacket. Thinking that Colonel Meier wouldn't be in for another hour at least, he carelessly dropped the upper garment and proceeded to laying himself on the cold tiled floor to cool his slender body off quicker.

Thomas was almost sitting on the floor when, unexpectedly, the heavy wooden door of the main egress creaked open. The creak was actually loud enough for everyone to hear, even amidst the noise of fingers tapping on computer keyboards commonly dampening the background on any given ordinary office day at Documentations. Thomas quickly jumped up in fright. Expecting to find the person everyone at Documentations had so endearingly called 'The Ogre' entering anytime at the egress, all he saw was Romy instead, with hair not entirely tidied up, complete with eye bags to match. A nasty shift in the circadian rhythm obviously didn't agree with him either.

"Who in their right mind would have you called in here… and let me emphasize the word _'here'_… of all places so early in the morning… as if anything urgent ever happens _here_," Romy groaned, yawning tiredly in between while scratching his head to straighten out the morning kinks.

"Romy, that's the second time you did that," screeched a pale-looking Thomas with the palm of his right hand clasped against his chest, still catching his breath from the moment's panic. "Do me a favor will ya? _Never_ do that again!"

"What up with you?" asked Romy blankly, while turning his sleepy glance towards Thomas.

"My heart rate for one," answered Thomas as he picked up his upper garment off the floor.

Just then, the door slid open again and in came Annie. She appeared like she always did: prim as ever, but minus the smile this time. She suddenly paused in mild astonishment to find the two other guys quizzically staring back at her (Romy with his eye bags making his gaze looking more like a squint, and Thomas halfway in putting his lieutenant's jacket back on), both in wonderment at what she was also doing in the office an hour early. Annie threw back a subtly perplexed glance, with both eyebrows opposing each other, as if asking without verbalizing, 'what're you all looking at.'

"Unlike high-strung Thomas here, my morning is complete when I finally see someone who's a sight for sore eyes," teased Romy, still rubbing his weary swollen eyelids.

"You don't want to know what I'd say," came back Annie with a somnolent raspy bedroom voice, betraying a still worn-out feeling from the previous happenings.

"Or not," said Romy afterwards.

"Right, does any one of you know what the heck we're supposed to be doing here at this hour?" asked Thomas impatiently, starting to feel regretful at the thought of having the chance to make things crystal-clear with Van go down the drain should the whole seemingly inexpedient summoning eventually turn out to be a foul prank. "This better be good, coz with only the three of us being called, I don't know if I'd rather feel anticipatory in thinking what might happen next. I'm afraid I can only go as far as venturing a guess to what could be in store for us."

"Whatever it is, your guess is as good as mine, Thomas," answered Annie, her diction clearer and more alert this time. "I haven't the slightest idea too what we're all doing here. But I gotta hand it to ourselves… we're quite the interesting trio in this department. It all seems so surreal. It makes me wonder though…"

"How about taking a shot in the dark at this one?" suggested Romy. "Who d'you think called us all here?"

"I did," came a burly voice from behind Romy; there was the answer the lieutenant was asking for his facetiously thrown question. All three noticed the silhouette of a thickset frame clogging the egress. Sure enough, it was Colonel Meier; stepping into the light, they're revealed a guile smile seemingly ranging from ear to ear on his hardnosed face. "I feel generous today," he continued as he strutted towards the center cubicle that is his bureau. "I had a good night's sleep, and it would be a damn shame if I wouldn't want everyone to experience the joy of my desire. First stop, since you got off so easily going on that little worry-free cruise you had a few nights back to Warehouse No. 5 via the far end of town, I thought I'd make it a point to remind you about a few things that stand in this department. I'm sure you parasites already know how our work here is quite specialized. And in light of that, I figured I'd give you a sort of welcome-back gift, straight from the cockles of my heart."

With that, he threw the door to his bureau wide open, and ushered the other three in with mocked showmanship. Thomas, Annie and Romy peered inside only to see stacks of papers, piled into three groups, with each pile having their designated names on it.

"What are these?" exclaimed Annie in puzzlement.

"The work you left behind," answered Meier detestably. "Did you honestly think I'd be stupid enough to let myself pick up the slack for you?"

"But that's not fair," went on Annie, almost at the verge of tears. "T-there were specific instructions that others were supposed to take over our tasks starting from the day we were pulled out temporarily from Documentations. W-we made sure everything else that was due for that day was wrapped up perfectly before we took over the new assignment that was delegated to us. General Krueger said so…"

"Tell that to someone who cares, sweetheart," taunted Meier contemptuously as he put an index finger to his lips, gesturing the cadet private to shush right away. "You can whine all you want, but I'm pretty sure Krueger wouldn't give a rat's ass about it."

Thomas' fangs were almost shown bare as he immediately turned his head to face the stuck-up colonel. He squeezed out every bit of effort from his sleep-deprived body to hold himself back from taking a bite out of Meier's head literally. It was worse than a prank. It was pure malice from someone who has apparently grown so relentlessly bitter with life, and no one else could have construed it otherwise. The blonde lieutenant had all his lines queued up, ready to be converted into a full-scale verbal ambush specifically laid out for the egocentric head-of-office. But before Thomas could lash out anything, Romy conveniently cut in.

"Looks like you always manage to take the better part of the bargain without the higher-ups getting to know anything about it, eh, Meier?"

"Sounds familiar, does it?" provoked Meier, as he ostensibly and purposefully alluded to some event in Romy's past to which the colonel is vividly familiar with. Thomas could only think of one thing (or one person) in the line of that allusion just by looking at his co-lieutenant's facial expression, which was gradually growing dangerous by the second. The turmoil of the younger Schubaltz's unreleased fury only proved to be ephemeral as the worry of Romy going berserk at the instance of bringing up the subject of Garth once again became the main concern for both him and Annie. Ignoring precautionary measures at this point, they might be speaking shortly of heads rolling – not in the figurative sense, but in the _literal_ one instead. It would be a surprise if Annie hadn't included this yet in her list of things she found surreal.

But if ever this also happened to be a contest on who had better self-control, Thomas would vicariously lose out. Except for the ominous expression on Romy's face, everything else from his breathing down to his posture remained calm and composed… yet another riveting departure from the cornucopia of off-the-wall behaviors he exhibited long before. For someone being a notorious joker, endowing tragicomedy with a whole new angle can be something worth looking up from some reliable character references. Hearing Garth being mentioned over and over again may have, to some strange effect, deadened his nerves of anger a bit. It was also like he knew Thomas had more of the animal instinct then, so he conveniently diverted the flow of bad aura to himself, before the younger Schubaltz would do something he'd definitely regret.

"You're a dickhead, y'know that?" said Romy in a rather deep and unfaltering voice, while still looking sharply at Meier. "Do you practice being one a lot, or does it just come naturally to you?"

The colonel's lips curled up into a malevolent grin on hearing the remark. As he glared mockingly at Romy, he said sneeringly, "You seem to be forgetting that I'm actually one of the higher-ups, Lieutenant Laudati. Like I said, I feel generous today, so consider yourselves lucky that _this _is all you get. But just keep that one coming, and you'll find yourself surrounded by more stacks of paper!"

Thomas, Romy, and Annie spoke no further. Seeing that this was so, Colonel Meier began striding amusedly toward the main egress. Before completely disappearing into it, he gave some parting words that were nowhere near endearing: "I want that all in by the end of the day. Be glad I gave you this extra hour to get things started up."

All three were eventually left behind in the office, the smell of paper and ink distinctively hanging about in the poorly-circulated air. The heavyhearted silence (mildly interrupted by the gentle rumbling of the air-conditioning unit becoming slightly louder as it adjusted itself to a preset thermostat) became a clear indication of the party's disappointment. Without anything else said thereafter, each proceeded unceremoniously to collecting his or her specific stacks of paper to begin work.

"Romy…" began Annie finally… unable to contain her concern for her colleague on how the aforementioned was doing after the ruthless disheartenment.

"I'm cool. Just let me be for now… please," answered Romy calmly as he courteously preempted Annie from what she wanted to say. He carried on with his tasks at hand without pausing for even a moment to turn back and look at his other two companions.

"OK," backed-off the cadet private understandably. "We're here when you need us."

The next few hours went by uneventfully. Needless to say, everyone thought of minding their own business for the moment naturally to save time, and to hopefully finish leveling the mountain of paperwork towering before them as soon as possible. Luckily, with each having overqualified skills under their wings, the pencil pushing all seemed like a breezing cakewalk. It's the immense bulk, however, that stands to be the limiting factor that keeps all from reaching faster an otherwise easily attainable goal.

All three of them learned a tough lesson from life within the intricacy of the Red River Base: the more one tries to redefine one's self to one's preference in the fervent hope of augmenting one's worth, the more one opens opportunities to unavoidable self-defaming. Intrigue tagging along bits of success seemed to be the norm to the ordinary undistinguished soldier. Of course, this was not without a few standout exceptions, which would have been arrantly obvious to most people by now. On account of the prevailing probationary status, in the meantime, Thomas had a gut feeling (relying on his severely under-tested intuition) that the possibility of his case being opened up again very soon for reviewing and reconsideration seemed more remote by the minute. But then again, he figured it might just be the angst talking.

Thomas was shaken brusquely from the obsession with his work as the clock gonged 1000 hours. Three hours have passed, and he didn't even notice the room filling in with the other mainstays who actually worked there with them in the department. And coming to think of it, he didn't even notice Meier go back to his bureau since he paraded himself out there the same number of hours back. Seeing that he was already through three-fourths of his pile, Thomas decided to take a short breather to stretch his aching back. Forecasting that he might actually get the job done before the strike of noon, he decided to drop by the neighboring cubicles to see how Annie was doing. Besides, there wasn't any ogre lurking about in the meantime to prohibit him from doing so. Of course, he didn't want to disturb Romy just yet, out of courtesy.

"Hey, Annie… how's it goin'?" asked the younger Schubaltz as he peered inside Annie's cubicle.

"Alright, I guess," answered Annie. "I'm not exactly in my best working condition today, but I managed to get through half of the bulk at least."

Thomas didn't know of anything else to say after that. His visit had already served its purpose. And besides, the events of earlier presented themselves in full clarity that, automatically, no opportunities for further in-depth discussion of these happenings needed to follow after that. Something else, however, quickly commenced to dominate Thomas' preoccupation, and this was giving the blonde lieutenant's face an expression that was just all too eye-catching for Annie to overlook.

"A penny for your thoughts?" began Annie.

"Huh… what?" spoke Thomas distractedly.

"You seem to be bothered about something again," explained Annie. "C'mon, let's hear it… since you're already here."

"Jeez, there's absolutely no hiding anything from you, is there?" sighed Thomas as he scratched his head. "Are you psychic or something?"

"Thomas…" coaxed Annie glancing sideways to the blonde lieutenant with head tilted a bit to her right, as if playfully telling down on a child.

"Alright, alright," yielded Thomas eventually. "I was just wondering about Gisela and Sebastian. They're back to their old posts as far as I know. But after hearing them open up, I can only wonder how they're doing where they are right now… and that worries me a bit, to tell you the truth."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," empathized Annie. "They sort of rub off on you too. It feels like having a couple younger siblings hanging around. God, I miss my family."

Thomas smiled warmly at what Annie said; he felt the same way about them too. But the unspoken disquietude was still mildly apparent. He looked back at Annie with genuine concern marked in his stare. "Don't tell me you don't feel it sometimes," he said.

"Feel what?" asked Annie.

"That we're the misfits around here… at least in our division if not in the whole Guardian Force," answered Thomas, a bit diffidently at that.

"Most of the time not," said Annie. "I'd be lying if I said I don't think about it sometimes whenever I'm back lying down on my bed, staring at the ceiling in my quarters. I admit it sucks to have people think of you that way. But then again, I'd tell myself that I'd be the judge of that… not them. At least thinking in that line helps to make me care so much less about that kind of crap. I'd just do my job like I should and learn from my mistakes, and do better bit by bit each time. That's it. If they're not satisfied with that, then to hell with them!"

"That's one of your good points," complemented Thomas. "Mostly, you don't care what others say when it comes to things like that. I should hang around with you more often than Romy. I could really learn a lot from you."

"What's your point is bringing this up anyway?" asked Annie inoffensively.

"I'm dead sure everyone else in this base wouldn't think twice in putting Sebastian and Gisela under the misfit category too," said Thomas. "I'm certain that you notice it also. That's probably why I sort of lashed out during that briefing in the main, after seeing all five of us being made to sit together in one file. Though that five-man group of ours is practically dissolved as far as the higher-ups are concerned, what are the chances that we might just be grouped back together again to take on another stupid assignment? You might think differently about this, but I've a feeling that it wouldn't be the last time we'll be hearing another summoning of that kind. Frankly, I don't know how I'm going to make heads or tails of this puzzle, but bottom line is… I don't have a good feeling about this. Like I said, there's probably a catch…"

"Y'know, with you and your hunches… you almost drive me crazy sometimes," said Annie in another one of her attempts in trying to lighten up the mood as some sort of pleasant distraction.

"I'm just trying to keep an open mind," reasoned Thomas lightheartedly, although a bit miffed at how Annie just lightly brushed aside that conspiracy theory of his. But at that point, he also supposed if he was overdoing it a little bit too.

"More like being paranoid, if you ask me," teased Annie, still smiling simply. "Personally, though, I think you're letting your mind fly around a little bit too wildly at that. But at least those two sure had a good time with us when we all went out."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Thomas. "I just hope they're able to handle things well where they are right now. Since they're both cadet privates, and rookies at that, they usually change posts quickly and get transferred a lot to stations where they're needed. I expect they're seeing a lot of changes in scenery… which makes me wonder, by the way… where d'you think they're stationed right now? Any ideas on that?"

"I'm a 'special' case, just as you, in case you didn't notice… so I guess I'm considered one who broke off of the momentum of things," said Annie humorously in light of their present predicament.

"Thanks a lot for the reminder," came back Thomas, teasingly as well.

"Though I can't give you any answer for that, I guess _she_ can." Thomas turned back to follow the direction in which Annie was pointing her stare. He saw Gisela walking in unexpectedly through the main egress.

Gisela searched the place naively for any familiar face, and felt truly relieved after quickly spotting Annie and Thomas in the nearest cubicle. "Good morning, lieutenant, sir… Oh, I mean, Thomas," she greeted timidly, almost in a whispered voice.

"What are you doing here? You're so lucky the Ogre isn't around," said Thomas concernedly as he quickly led Gisela to the inside of the cubicle.

"It's OK. I've gotten word that Colonel Meier took the whole day off to sort of discuss some classified information with Colonel Muller and General Krueger," answered Gisela. "And I also figured that after that last endeavor, if you can call it that, I'd find you guys here. But that's beside the point. I really came to give this to you, and to see how all of you are doing."

Gisela handed Thomas a small metallic box that appeared to have a retractable latch on its side. The lieutenant immediately recognized the item.

"This is Sebastian's," said Thomas.

"What is that thing again?" queried Annie, likewise identifying that same black box she saw Sebastian bringing along before all of them went on their night out.

"It's the miniature portable hologram device he was working on," answered the lieutenant. He looked back at Gisela afterwards and asked, "Why are you giving me this? And how's Sebastian doing, by the way?"

A dismayed look came over Gisela's face as she answered, "He took a forced leave. He's back home, straightening a few things out with his father. There's a reason, too, why the two of us were teamed up with the two of you and Romy. Our superiors claim that things seem to go wrong whenever Sebastian and I are around. I guess we're sort of in a mess similar to Annie's. Somehow we figured the higher-ups expected us to really screw up when we're with you guys, so they'll have an easy reason for the two of us to be dismissed. Too bad for them, nothing detrimental occurred… and that's a minus for them, I should say. Of course, after that, news of our so-called 'indiscretions' reached Sebastian's dad as fast as any news could, despite the fact that he's stationed far up north… sort of our superiors' way of saving face. Like I said, Sebastian's leave of absence was unsurprisingly mandatory. He was made to file it immediately after we stepped out of the warehouse. If you ask me, having two corporals escort him to headquarters like he was some felon is way beyond unnecessary. I guess you'd expect that if your father were a General. Somehow, he felt he had that one coming… just a matter of time. After that he left immediately for home, just in time to let me know. I haven't the slightest idea of anything following that, and I still haven't gotten word from him. I just hope he's OK, and that he'd keep strong."

"That's just not right," came another voice from behind Gisela. She reflexively turned around to see Romy standing with hands in pockets, wearing an expression that was still a tad apprehensive, but with a hidden smile trying to break through nonetheless. Apparently, he was listening the whole time… an indication that he also came to develop a liking for the kid. Gisela, on the other hand, was happy to see another familiar face.

"Feeling better now?" Thomas asked his brown-haired co-lieutenant.

Romy simply shrugged his shoulders in surrender, saying, "Let's just say I've had days worse that this."

"By the way, here are the instructions on how to use the hologram device," said Gisela as she handed over to Thomas a worn-out notebook. "Sebastian's handwriting is really quite legible, so you won't feel like you're deciphering through some form of ancient writing."

"Thanks," said Thomas, as he received the notebook. "To be honest, this makes me wish I were back to my usual pre-Documentations routine. That way, I had more time working on this new program I started designing for Beek. I just hate procrastinating pointlessly what I want to do." He tapped his AI communicator fitted over his left ear as he said that. Naturally, Beek's bleeps came sounding gently, as if assuring Thomas that waiting actually heightens the anticipation and excitement.

"Sebastian hopes this hologram-inducer will be of help with you-know-what," continued Gisela.

The younger Schubaltz deposited the notebook in one of his garment's pockets. As he stared continuously at the hologram-inducer on his hand, the hopeful air in his mien started dissipating gradually as another concern came over to preoccupy his mind. "Y'guys, I really appreciate everything you're putting in to help pull this whole thing off," began Thomas slowly and somewhat unenthusiastically. "But maybe on second thought, let's just throw in the towel."

On hearing what Thomas said, the rest looked at each other with surprised glances. "But why? We haven't even begun laying down the master plan," whined Annie almost exasperatedly.

"I've been thinking twice about involving you guys," reasoned Thomas. "Unlike me, you've got your whole lives ahead of you, and I don't want to see them running the risk of getting wasted over something like this. I know I said that if something goes wrong, I'd be pulling the plug, and that you can deny any knowledge of this for your safety. But after giving it some thought, how do I know for certain that I can really assure your safety?"

"Oh, don't give me that!" started an irritated Romy. "What happened to your big speech about bringing those idiotic weapons traffickers to justice? Don't tell me you're chickening out now after all the shit we've been through."

"I'm not chickening out," snapped Thomas. "I'm saying that maybe I should just do this on my own, coz I don't want my death wish to be yours as well."

"You got me all pumped up into bringing down that bastard Garth for good," said Romy, with the same unusual stern and serious look on his face. "Now that I think that this may just be a way for me to put my past behind me, you're suddenly thinking of changing the plan?" The rest paused in awe for a few seconds as they let the aimed meaning in what Romy said sink in.

"I'm sorry, Romy," said Thomas finally, after seeing the bigger picture. "I didn't know you took it that way."

"It's OK," grunted Romy in response after taking a moment to try to shake the apprehension off. "Just don't try to make it sound like you'll be hogging up all the action for yourself next time. I definitely wouldn't want to miss out on that! We're fighting for what is right here; _you _know it… _I _know it… _everyone _knows it. I don't care if it becomes _my_ funeral, but if that actually happens (which I _highly_ doubt), the least you can do for me is to attend it."

"Nothing ever dampens your spirits, does it, eh?" said Annie, putting a friendly hand on one of the brown-haired lieutenant's shoulders as she marveled over how he is still able to inject some witty wisecracks even at the situation everyone is in. Truly, there'd never be a dull moment with him around.

"Like I said… I've had worse days," said Romy, with a smile finally making its way through.

"So are we cool then?" asked Thomas, looking wittily at his co-lieutenant.

"Yeah, we're cool," said Romy, with a corner of his mouth curling up into a gentle grin. He planted a friendly cuff on one of Thomas' shoulders as well and said, "I couldn't stay mad at you. How could I… with those adorable green eyes and that soft silky blonde hair…?"

"Alright! Stop right there!" exclaimed Thomas almost laughing while pointing a warning finger at his co-lieutenant. Though he was glad Romy was back in his usual joking mood, and although there was purely pun intended in that supposedly flirtatious wisecrack of his, it started rising to a point that was just enough for Thomas' stomach to take. Naturally, everyone else came laughing as well.

"So what now?" asked Annie afterwards.

"I guess the first step is to acquire all the equipment we can get hold on," said Thomas jadedly. "Doesn't have to be too sophisticated, just as long as it does the job well. Problem is actually getting them without being caught sneaking out the base… well,… at least for us, excluding Gisela."

"I think that's where the hologram-inducer might come in handy," pointed out Gisela keenly.

"Yeah, I thought so, too," noticed Thomas. "By the way, Gisela, where will you be stationed at next?"

"I'll be shipping out to the Kappa Canyon Base two days from now," answered Gisela. "It's just a small military outpost a few miles from the outskirts of the Ladratos range. I'll be staying there for a month at least. And I heard people there are nicer."

"Hmmm, hold on a second there," said Thomas as the cogs in his mind started their usual rolling again. "It seems like we may not have to use this hologram-inducer just yet."

"What d'you mean?" asked Romy.

"I've got a couple of contacts there in Ladratos," said Thomas rather hopefully. "One's some old guy I'm rather acquainted with. He goes by the name of Jon Copper. Sounds rather boorish if you ask me, but I can't say for sure if that's his real name. I bet it's just an alias he uses for business purposes. But going on to more important matters, he owns a small chain of shops selling and trading in an assortment of used equipment. He only supplies me the best quality of used stuff and zoid parts I'd need for my DiBison and other things. It's cheaper to buy the second-hand than the brand-new, y'know. There's plenty of it to go around, too. And believe me, they're not smuggled. It's a squeaky-clean line of trade; I'd give you that. I'd often go there myself to pick up the lot if it weren't for the travel expenses, so therefore I mostly have it ordered and delivered along with the other packages going into the Base. Though it saves me a lot of money and hassle that way, still, nothing beats seeing the goods first hand before making a transaction…"

"Right, I see your present problem right there," interrupted Gisela unintentionally after realizing the predicament Thomas was taking about.

"Precisely," agreed Thomas. "I figured since you'll be staying there nearby for some time, it'd be much easier if you'd be my proxy. There's nothing to it. I'll give you a list of the items I'll need, which you can show to him. And don't worry about getting caught or anything; it's all legit. Besides, when the equipment arrives here, it'd just pass smoothly through inspection; who'd give a fuss about used equipment anyway? If you're having a hard time getting them, just phone us a message. I'll just make it appear like I wanted some more things to tinker on."

"Sounds like something that'd be worth my while," said Gisela, seemingly quite enthusiastic about what she's hearing. "But I still think you should keep this hologram device ready. You'll never know when you might _really_ need it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," admitted Thomas.

"You'll be alright, kid," said Romy to Gisela, giving warm and heartfelt words of encouragement out loud for the first time, at least for everyone else in the cubicle. "Expect a lot of rough bumps on the way ahead. They're going to give you a hard time, that's for sure… but you'll do just fine."

"Yeah," resounded Annie. "Inasmuch as I want to say otherwise sometimes, the Guardian Force's the right place for some big-time, heavy-duty character-building."

"Thanks," said Gisela, who couldn't help but smile. "That means a lot. But I'd better be going now. Thanks for everything. And if I see Sebastian (and anytime soon, I hope), I'll let him know about the developments. Bye for now."

"Wait," called Thomas, as he got out of the cubicle just a few moments after the departing female cadet private. He just remembered he almost left out an essential part for whatever future transaction that'd take place with Jon Copper if the task were going to be delegated to Gisela. "You'll have to come with me first. There's something I need to give you… _and _tell you, too." He overtook the momentarily distracted Gisela, took her hand, and quickly led her out of the Documentations department, notwithstanding the others' pleas to let whatever it was wait until midday break. Calling back to the others over his shoulder that it can't wait, Thomas swiftly disappeared into the main egress, tagging a flabbergasted Gisela along with him. After a few minutes, both arrived at Thomas' quarters. He closed the airtight door securely right after both of them got in.

"There's nothing life-and-death major about this, but still keep it at a hush-hush, OK," said Thomas as he began digging into one of the drawers of his desk. "As far as I know, there isn't anything prohibiting any Guardian Force member from having one, but I'd strongly advise that this better not be seen by anyone at least. So hide it well. Now where is that th… oh, here it is!"

Gisela simply stood in puzzlement, naturally wondering what could be so important that Thomas had to keep it at a down low, let alone drag her all the way down to his quarters in such a hurry. She crinkled her forehead in curiosity as she assiduously examined a small piece of metal handed to her by the blonde lieutenant. She looked askance at its exotic features. It appeared to be a cross with three interconnecting rings overlapping it. Studying it closely, an interested collector of eccentric artifacts would probably think that the many nicks and gashes inelegantly and uncouthly engraved all over it candidly bore witness to the austerity of the long concluded Imperial-Republican wars. Now that stood for something worth adding to his set.

"It's actually a pendant belonging to an ancient religious order previously thought by most historians to have practiced the occult," elucidated Thomas, as he noted the questioning gaze from the cadet private that eventually abated as the lieutenant finally grasped her attention. "Like I said earlier, Jon legitimately manages a small group of shops selling or trading in used zoid parts and other assorted paraphernalia. Those who didn't know any better presume right away that this is just another one of those breakaways from the unified underground smugglers' association with a well-concerted scheme to keep everything under the wraps. So I guess it wasn't a surprise then that he had his nasty share of raids from the military… sad to say. So I'd take it that you know now why I want this to be strictly just between the two of us. Too bad for the military, though… they couldn't find anything to pin him down since he came clean from the start. Of course, this brand of discrimination and harassment took a lot out of his business, obviously… so in a way he figured he'd do better if he just narrowed down his coverage to 'members only' rather than advertising his wares out in the open market."

"But what does this have to do with this cross?" asked Gisela, still holding the ancient artifact in one hand.

"It seems to be something that became quite personal for Jon," answered Thomas. "That ancient religious order was persecuted a lot too, so I guess he found a suitable analogy for his situation. I don't know how, but he managed to attain pendants like these. He thought he'd use them as sort of made-to-order 'membership cards' for those who'd like to avail of his services, one of which includes me. Mind you, I had to go through a strenuous screening process before I could get one of those! Just flip it over and see what's written behind it."

Gisela did what Thomas said. Engraved across the backside of the horizontal beam of the cross (just as crudely as the notches adorning the archaic pendant were) are what appeared to be two words. Although surprisingly legible at that, Gisela couldn't immediately translate the inscription into spoken words; the uncertainty of their actual pronunciation seemed to be holding her back from reading them out loud.

"It's read 'Te'oma R'kharthuz,'" said Thomas in a perceivable diction, aiming to clear the doubt as he saw how much the cadet private was scrutinizing the writings on the ornament. "It's my name written in an ancient language. It'll make people think the actual owner of the cross has been long dead. Jon never looked like someone engrossed by historical events, but that doesn't appear to be the case here. What can I say? The man has style."

"Cool," exhaled Gisela in unpretentious awe. "So I just show this to him… Jon Copper, I mean… and it's a done deal?"

"I'm afraid not. You'll have to learn a code, too," said Thomas. "It's a sort of safeguard he employs that'd help screen out those actually interested in smuggled materials. I'm sure you'd understand all these precautions, especially with peacekeeping bureaus constantly breathing down his neck. Plus, if you know the code, it'll be like a voucher that I know you and that I asked you to go to him in my place. Just don't discount this, though, as something that's simply a password to get through the front door. You'll have to be confident too in carrying yourself. People like Jon are as sharp as they come. If you get this wrong the first time, the transaction is over; just forget it and leave. They'd turn their back in a second and won't even bother taking a second look at you. Better pay close attention to this so you won't let a crucial chance slip just like that through your fingers."

"Thomas…" interrupted Gisela, almost in a shudder. "I don't think I'm cut out for this…"

"I'm afraid that's what being in the Guardian Force is all about," said Thomas, ironically seeming to be reassuring. "Relax, there's nothing to it actually. Just be confident. You said before that this could be something worth your while. Think of it as an exciting experience you can one day boast to your grandchildren."

"If I ever have any," muttered Gisela under her breath.

"Don't worry, you'll have a few," said Thomas, apparently hearing the toned-down claim without difficulty. The airtightedness of the room, by the looks of it, managed to amplify the acoustics that it became much easier even for a needle falling to the floor to be heard.

"But if anything goes wrong, I can just phone you guys up…" started Gisela, still with a delicate tremble of ambiguity in her voice.

"Don't assume right away that something will go wrong," stressed Thomas. "Have a frame of mind set that way, and you've already lost the battle before you even get a chance to see it. This'll probably be the first _and _the last time I'm going to tell you this, so pay close attention. You'll have to remember this with no pen and paper, unless you want to get caught when some military police personnel frisks you up." The lieutenant went back to the far end of the room to push back the drawers he pulled out earlier. As he turned back to Gisela, he asked, "Are you into word-games?"

"Well, I've only beaten the best in my province," boasted Gisela despite her understandable nervousness in the hope that singing her own praises for once would help make it dissolve.

Thomas smiled with satisfaction. "Then this won't be a problem for you_ at all_," he said. With that, he went back to his desk and pulled out a pad of paper from the top drawer. A pen was already standing by within one of his front pockets of his upper garment. "Just so we make things clear, I'm the one who's allowed to use a pen and paper," said Thomas jokingly. Gisela chuckled reflexively at that; the chill that previously crawled down her back fortunately didn't seem to be there any longer.

"Jon's pretty good at word-games too, so I guess here's your chance to find a worthy adversary," said a sitting Thomas as he pulled out another chair and gestured the cadet private to park herself likewise as he commenced into explaining how the initial interaction with the used-goods dealer would most probably be like.

"Let's pretend I'm Jon Copper," began the lieutenant. "What if I tell you 'Whales oddly route vendettas yonder, uttering oligarchs into germane rovers veering ravenously, placing accurately easing stations highly smarting adamant amnesties,' what would you answer?"

Before Thomas was able to write everything he said down on paper, Gisela spoke out, "Te'oma R'kharthuz," much to the former being indubitably impressed.

"Are you for real?" asked an awed Thomas. "A lot would find what I just said prosaic, while the rest would just easily dismiss it as plain nonsense. But with you… this is really _way _beyond what I was expecting."

"Years of practice, I suppose," answered Gisela, finally smiling slyly.

"Normally Jon wouldn't do that to familiar faces," continued Thomas. "He has quite a photographic memory, I'd give him that. Once he gets to size you up… and let you pass by his criteria… then the deal's done for certain. You'll have to make your reply sound prosaic too, though, so it wouldn't be that obvious to those within earshot, and so he'll know that you mean business. A carefully worded response won't make him think you're just some hobo looking for solicitations."

"I suppose that wouldn't be much of a problem… now that I'm sort of able to picture what I'll have to deal with," said Gisela excitedly. She has finally gained her confidence back.

"Well, it seems I've already walked you through the most important matter," said Thomas. "I think you'll handle yourself from here seamlessly."

With that, a calmer Gisela deposited the metal cross in one of the front pockets of her upper garment, as both exited the room to go back to where they were supposed to be. As Thomas locked the door to his quarters, a spark of excitement became evident in the twinkle of his eyes as he remembered a particularly important piece of historical information that he just had to share to the cadet private. "Like I said, this religious order we were talking about went down in history as an occult sect, but it was only recently when latter experts actually uncovered remarkably convincing evidence that they were nowhere near what most people during their day thought," he said. "I guess the perspectives on things do change over time. I hope the education department has enough funds to rewrite their history textbooks. But taking things in retrospect, I wouldn't be surprised now why newer historical records would often refer to this order as the _Unum Supervivere_… which means 'the one to survive.' It's a description suitable to their own merit."

As the two went down the first flight of stairs along their way, they unexpectedly bumped into a fellow Guardian Force official. He had aqua-blue hair and was wearing a Major's uniform. Thomas recognized that man on the other lane coming towards them to be O'Connell. His rank was promoted to major practically the same time as Rob Herman's. Gisela gasped in astonishment, as if a speeding Gustav suddenly hit her head-on. As expected, Thomas gave his generically stiff and snappy salute.

"Good morning, Major O'Connell, sir," said Thomas. He quickly nudged Gisela inconspicuously to snap her out of her astonishment. Unmistakably, Gisela appeared to be in a state of shock. Coming back to her senses, the cadet private likewise gave her salute and tendered her morning greeting as well. Thomas glanced sideways at her then at O'Connell alternately, totally clueless at whatever dynamics were going on if there were any between the two that briskly took the wind out of Gisela's sails.

However, Thomas wasn't the only one who appeared clueless. O'Connell's facial features on the other hand didn't carry any hint of the element of surprise as he saw Gisela; the bewilderment merely went one-way apparently.

"Good morning, Thomas," went on O'Connell. "It's been quite some time since I last talked to you. How've you been doing lately?"

"Living one day at a time, sir," answered Thomas comfortably, seemingly half-joking at that. Unlike the rather strict Rob Herman, the more lenient major was to Thomas how he and Romy was to Gisela, Annie, and Sebastian. Still, he had to set boundaries; it wasn't like the two had the same relationship as Van has with Colonel Krueger.

"Glad to hear that," said O'Connell, seemingly abbreviated with his words this time. Having glanced a bit longer at Gisela, he asked eventually, "You look somewhat familiar, ma'am."

"I-I," stuttered Gisela, trying to hide her blush to no avail.

"Anyway, I got to get back to where I'm needed," O'Connell continued. "I suggest you do the same as well to avoid anything unnecessary. It's just that it'd be a bit difficult for me to explain to those up there why a lieutenant and a cadet private are within these premises at this time of the day… not that I have any bad ideas or anything. I think you don't need to be reminded. I'm sure you'd understand how disgusting power-tripping can get around here."

"Just going on our way as well, sir," said Thomas. "Thank you. And don't worry: we're not up to anything stupid."

"Alright," said O'Connell as he greeted both Thomas and Gisela with a parting nod before he continued on his way. "'Til then, Thomas… Ma'am."

In a few seconds, O'Connell had already advanced a good number of steps towards his supposed destination. Just as he was about to disappear into a nearby corner, he stopped abruptly on his tracks as if realizing he forgot something. He turned back towards Thomas and Gisela, both of whom still remained where they were during those few seconds that elapsed.

"Thomas," called O'Connell. "I don't know if this'd offer any consolation, but I think you deserve a hell of a lot better that what you're being forced to settle for right now."

"Uh… just trying my best to give it the cold shoulder, sir, ha ha ha," giggled Thomas a bit nervously while scratching the back of his head lightheartedly. "I didn't mean for it to cause much of a ruckus…"

"To be honest with you, I don't agree with the rather unfair verdict myself," said O'Connell matter-of-factly. "I'm still getting used to the idea of you being the nonconformist this time. I'm just surprised, though, why I didn't hear you and the others make any objections about it and question the whole bureaucracy."

"Believe me, sir, we did," answered Thomas. "Maybe it's just because eventually I figured it wouldn't be worth being done in by something as stupid as this. The most I can do for now is wait until they reconsider and review my case."

"But still…" For some reason, O'Connell stopped abruptly in his argumentative inference. Feeling just like an older brother, he finally realized that Thomas was becoming no longer the old hopeless comical goofball most wanted him to remain as. Somehow he saw how much he has grown intuitionally over the years he had been under him as his subordinate, regrettably without the younger Schubaltz even knowing it. "Well… I guess all I can say to you now is that you yourself alone can sense what kind of consequences would come your way for every action you take. You two take care of yourselves now." With that, O'Connell nodded again, turned his back, and went on his way hurriedly.

"That's Major O'Connell for you… always looking out for others," said Thomas factually. He was actually expecting Gisela to give her personal comment on the major as well, considering O'Connell's record for making almost every female cadet private swoon at the sight of him. Surprised to hear nothing but silence after that, he glanced toward Gisela, only to see her looking dejected, staring endlessly to the floor, eyes misty with tears on the verge of pouring out.

"Hey, what's the matter?" asked Thomas concernedly.

"How could he be so insensitive?" asked Gisela sounding almost in between sniffles.

"Okaaaay…" sounded Thomas, quite unsure what to make of this. "I guess that typical boy next door got to you like he got to almost every girl in this base. It's making me jealous sometimes. I know, it sounds stupid, but I wished I had _that_ same effect on girls…"

"He barely even recognized me," said Gisela softly, again unintentionally interrupting Thomas.

Thomas suddenly had that look on his face… the kind that comes out after finally realizing something big. "Oh my God!" he calmly remarked, though flabbergasted to full-scale. "Are you telling me O'Connell's the guy from your province you've been…"

"Let's just forget it," said Gisela quietly, wiping the tears off her moist eyes with her kerchief.

"OK," said Thomas calmly in no time, understanding Gisela's sentiment. "Just fix yourself up first, then let's get on our way." The younger Schubaltz figured the sooner they'd get a move on, the easier it would be for Gisela.

"Right," said Gisela as she cleared her throat and finally finished wiping her face. Thomas wanted to offer his handkerchief as well. Remembering that it had been in contact with nothing other than a lot of his nervous sweat, the just winged on the thought.

"You'll be alright there?"

"Yeah. 'Live to fight another day,' like they said," she said. "Can you do me a favor, though?"

"What is it?"

"Don't tell the others… please."

"Your secret's safe with me," reassured Thomas. "I know how you feel. Just hang in there. Your odds are much better than mine."

It was only 1945 hours, but Thomas was already in his quarters, lying on his bed, face-up staring onto the improperly furbished ceiling. He ate an early supper; he knew how cafeteria queues during peak hours can be long and crazy. At the very least, he was quite thankful he hadn't any 'take-home' work at all for the night, so he had finally gotten around to work on the program he was previously designing, specifically for his AI Beek. But picking up where he dropped off after a long hiatus took longer than he expected. He had to review pages of related literature just to bring himself back into the momentum. Working for only an hour straight was tiring enough that he just had to lay himself back for a while.

He felt rather cramped up just spending that last hour in his room that he started to see things flying around in his field of vision. Rubbing his tired eyes, he was relieved to see that it was just the ceiling fan that momentarily morphed into illusory images… a trademark trick his brain was playing on him. Breaking out of his self-constructed prison was in order. At this hour, whenever the blonde lieutenant wanted time alone with his thoughts, he'd simply climb to the rooftop of the tallest wing of the Red River Base.

Thomas stepped out the confines of his quarter. He made sure the door he closed behind him was locked securely. His way to the base rooftop was unavoidably along the same spot where Gisela finally found O'Connell again after a long time. The younger Schubaltz reasoned with himself that O'Connell is a good man who values friendship a great deal, but this time he couldn't bring himself to understand why recalling the discomfited reunion made him feel sick to his stomach. It sure didn't seem like this was a simple matter of Gisela clamoring for attention. Perhaps she was really in love with the guy, and having interacted with him one way or another years ago (even for a short time) meant a lot to the poor girl. To be able to love someone for so long was truly a rarity.

As Thomas was nearing the way out to the rooftop level, he could feel the cool breeze of the evening air whiffing against his face. His mind was already set to have his tenseness simmered down to a more solemn tone, but an unusual surprise met him on the rooftop as he pushed the exit door open.

"W-wha… Dr. Koebner?"

"Thomas!" greeted Dr. Koebner all the same, though appearing quite surprised himself to see the lieutenant. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same question."

"I see…" said Dr. Koebner with his usual sanguine smile. "Well, time to explain myself again."

This was absolutely unexpected for the blonde lieutenant, but on the other hand, it wasn't unwanted either. As Dr. Koebner took in a deep breath of the clean and crisp evening air, he commenced…

"Whenever I had to work late in my office, I couldn't help but notice from my window that you come up here often. Anyone who would have been present in my office couldn't just ignore the sight of you, especially after your first session with me… but that's just between the two of us, mind you. I was afraid at first that you'd just jump off the roof, but clearly you've proven to be so much stronger than that. From then on, almost every time I had to work late, I'd see you up here. So I figured I try going up here myself for a change to see what's so special about this place. I should say the scenery from here is spectacular! I got to hand it to you: you know how to pick your favorite hangouts. Although lately, you haven't been coming up to this spot… so I've been coming here instead, in place for your absence. Frankly I didn't expect you'd come up here tonight either. Don't get any wrong ideas, though; I wasn't spying on you."

"Never thought of that about you even for a second, don't worry," said Thomas grinning. "I'm actually beginning to get a hang of these little encounters of ours."

"So, what is there to talk about tonight?"

"I don't know," said Thomas. "Humor me."

"Don't I always?" said Koebner. Both of them had a good laugh after that.

"You look peeved a little while ago, though," he said to the younger Schubaltz thereafter. Thomas' disposition just as he stepped out of the exit leading to the rooftop wasn't at all that inconspicuous for it to just slip under the amiable psychologist's notice. After all, Thomas wouldn't come to that spot in the first place if it wasn't for him being severely worked up.

"Oh… that?" began Thomas. "I just feel bad about someone. She kinda like has the same fate in love as the both of us."

"I see." Koebner leaned against one of the balustrades around the rooftop edge. "Well, since it would be pointless to dwell on that lest we'd be playing the same old tired tune all over again, I think we should give the topic of lovesickness a rest for a change and talk about something else. Any topics you have in mind?"

"I'm fresh out of 'em," shrugged Thomas. "If I knew you'd be joining me, I'd probably rehearse my lines first before coming up here," he added with pun intended.

"Ha ha, good one!" laughed Koebner. "But how about maps then? You've been tackling on some geography back at the hangar this morning. Well, I got kind of interested too, so I thought I'd just do some brushing up on my geography as well. It seemed this morning that I couldn't put myself at ease unless I finally looked it up, so I took the liberty of verifying your geographical pointers."

"U-huh… And?" queried Thomas, taking on a sudden interest on the matter too.

"It so happens that there's a fatal mistake in your version of the arrangement of Planet Zi's land and water masses: it's the Deldaros and the Zerros Oceans that separate Europa from the Eastern Continent, and not the Triangle Daras. I didn't stop there, though. I sort of wanted to know what was it that kept outsiders from getting to the Eastern Continent… well, since I got so started up on the maps. You're right about the asteroid leaving a strong and permanent magnetic force about the Triangle Daras. Apparently, the latest seismological researches showed that these abnormally strong magnetic fields emanating from the Triangle strangely reach the floor of the Deldaros Ocean… _and_ the Florecio Ocean as well. They reckon it has something to do with the water current, though that theory still has to be put to the test. So maybe your suggestion of burring a tunnel deep enough under the ocean floor to bypass the magnetism to get to the Eastern Continent might just work."

"Mm-hmm?" gestured Thomas as he smiled slyly with a raised eyebrow while glancing cheekily at Dr. Koebner.

"What?" asked Koebner, as if oblivious to what Thomas was trying to point out.

"If I didn't know any better, you seem eager to put that theory of mine to the test too."

"What are you talking about? So what if I have an interest in geography and seismology too? I can be flexible for my age, y'know," joked Koebner.

"You expect me to believe that?" probed Thomas, smile getting wider.

"C'mon, Thomas… what are you getting at?" asked the psychologist, looking back at the lieutenant curiously, but with the fatherly warmth in it remaining inexhaustible as ever.

"Oh, just admit it, doc," said Thomas impatiently, going straight to the point. "You're still interested in seeing her again, aren't you? Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't this 'sudden interest' in geography sound a little too much like hoping against all hope that you'd be able to reach the Eastern Continent one day?"

"Hmmm," hummed Koebner, still kidding around with Thomas.

"_Yes?_"

"Hmmm… perhaps," said the psychologist finally in a mellowed tone. There wasn't any point in resisting any longer since it was quite obvious now.

"What? I didn't catch that." Now Thomas was the one kidding around with Koebner.

"Very funny, Thomas," said Koebner, letting his upbeat smile do the muted giggling for him. "So much for the urbane act; remind me to stay out of theater, by the way. But going back to her… I admit I miss her terribly. Still you can never be too busy to dream once in a while. After all, you don't pay taxes when you dream, right?"

"Right… And I'd probably try to do the same too, in fairness," sympathized the younger Schubaltz. "Come to think of it, I didn't get her name. What is her name?"

"It's Janice," answered Dr. Koebner gently. "It's the most beautiful name in the world. I can say it over and over again, and it'd never lose its luster."

Thomas didn't have to say anything to state his concurrence with the psychologist. He feels the same way whenever he'd utter the word "Fiona" to himself.

"I don't know about you, but the draft here seems to be picking up its strength," said Koebner subsequently, rubbing his hands briskly together after wrapping himself more with his white smock gown. "Maybe it's high time we head back downstairs."

"Yeah, got you on that," agreed Thomas, also beginning to feel the chill.

As both reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs back, each bade the other a good night and a 'see-you-when-I-see-you' before parting on their own ways. But just as Dr. Koebner was about to descend onto another flight of stairs down to the lower levels of the dormitory wing, he turned back and called out to Thomas seemingly for something he forgot to tell him while they were still on the rooftop. The younger Schubaltz instinctively pictured it as an unintentional imitation of O'Connell's earlier style; he noticed it oddly beginning to be a habit with people he knew personally in the Red River Base.

"Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it isn't there anymore. That's all. Allow yourself some time in between to brood over it. Just think of it as another piece of fatherly advice."

"Yeah, maybe I will," answered Thomas before he waved another farewell. 'That alone made my entire night. Thanks, doc,' he thought to himself. With that, he then proceeded to going back to his room.

In a matter of minutes, a rejuvenated Thomas was back to typing commands on the computer screen; having an opportunity towards completing the predictive permutation program has been put off way too long. At least for now he had the inspiration he needed to go as far as the next stretch of despair. It made him forget Gisela's situation (and reflexively his) temporarily. He had a personal deadline to beat, anyhow.

Just when everything was going smoothly, Thomas' concentration was violently interrupted by Dr. D unexpectedly bursting into his room, talking (or rather squealing) loudly at the top of his already hoarse and decrepit voice. It was either he came to Van and the others first where he might have screamed out his initial sentiments, or he was coming down with a cold, especially with the weather they were having at this time of the year. Forgetting to lock the door in the first place from all the excitement to commence work made the blonde lieutenant berate himself, though only for that short while between the instance the kooky zoid expert came charging in to the point when his thoughts were muffled by his screechy voice.

"Ever heard of knocking?" asked Thomas angrily in lieu of the vulgar invasion of his personal space.

"You've been with Koebner earlier, haven't you?" continued Dr. D with the same screechy voice no less. "How much do you know about him? How long has he been here in the base? Has he been spreading nonsense about me? C'mon, let's hear it!"

"Can you be more taciturn?" lashed out Thomas derisively. "You're making my ears bleed!"

"I've been through _a lot_ of trouble finding your room… so don't you even think of giving me any more of it! Now, talk! I haven't got all night!"

"I really don't have time to listen to all your bickering tonight! If you want to discuss all that, my schedule's wide open tomorrow afternoon. For now, just get out and leave me alone, please!"

"TALK, DAMN YOU!" Dr. D's voice became unusually louder on top of the hoarseness, evidently not hearing a single word Thomas said.

Irritated, Thomas finally stood up; he pushed his seat aside brusquely that it almost toppled. Grabbing Dr. D by the collar, he dragged the hysterical scientist to the door and shoved him wholly out of the room. He did it roughly to make his point… but not too rough lest he'd break a bone or two from the old man.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Thomas snapped (just as rudely as Dr. D had been earlier). Following immediately after that, he slammed the door hard in the scientist's face before the latter could utter another word. After locking it, the blonde lieutenant checked every bolt twice before going back to work. He didn't worry about being perturbed by any possible incessant banging coming from the other side, since he designed the door to be airtight to begin with.

"Man! What's the hell's the matter with him?" Thomas asked himself. "He's not normally like this… even to _me_!" If Dr. D's already this frenzied just at the mere thought of Dr. Koebner being physically present in the Red River Base, Thomas was now afraid even to imagine how the actual encounter would be like. This time, he wasn't too keen on seeing the sparks fly on that fateful day, whenever it may be. It might actually turn out to be a magnitude nastier than how Marianne initially pictured it.

He cursed to himself; just when he thought he could continue his work in peace, something like this comes his way… and now he's bothered by it big time. Marianne did mention before that Dr. D and Dr. Koebner don't go along very well because of differences in opinion, but could she be just sugarcoating it? Seeing Dr. D like this for the first time in his life doesn't seem like an exact reflection of a petty reason fueling this disagreement in the first place. Any hints of a palliative détente didn't appear quite clearly on the horizon.

Looking out the window to watch the moonlit Zoidian night, a now disquieted Thomas couldn't help but think this time if Dr. Koebner can be a lot more than what meets the eye. He needed details and he needed it soon before things get precariously out of hand.

(Chapter XII following shortly)


	12. Chapter XII

_Now it's Gisela's turn to shine._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER XII**

Three days have passed; nothing colossally worth mentioning happened as far as Planet Zi's chronological history is concerned. Life went on typically… each one going about their affairs and all. And, of course, it's business as usual in the huge town square of Ladratos. Just by standing in front of its gates, one can plainly see its many busy streets spewing with people going in all directions. One group consisted of peddlers pulling on mobile stalls as they go about their rounds, while another group came carrying boxes of merchandise to be transported to their respective establishments… and yet another group of people appeared to be the buyers, all equipped with their trusty shopping bags and trolleys. As some sellers remained sedentary on their designated booths doing their usual advertising, independent streams of townsfolk in the meantime came pouring into alleys just as full of activity as the other.

From the looks of it, it's like Ladratos has got it all. Shops housing clothiers, shops for farm tools, shops for jewelry, shops for rare books… you name it, it's got it. Everywhere you look, there are stores filling every block and blunting every corner. It's a Mecca for bargain hunters of all ages. No wonder it's the undisputed business capital of Delpoi.

Amidst the commotion customary to the locality, no one noticed a scooter pulling over. Taking off her protective helmet, the rider reveals herself to be Cadet Private Gisela Reimers. She parked and secured her vehicle carefully. It wasn't her first time to be in a place such as this, so she'd know better than to leave her means of transportation behind unprotected.

Gisela began walking through the one of the busy streets, letting her shoulder-long hair left unbraided for the first time in public glide against the light and gentle wind, as she took her own calm pace notwithstanding the flow of the human current that looks like it'd effortlessly and mercilessly drag you along with it like an empty carton box when you'd gaze at it from a distance. Wearing a fitting pair of leather pants suitable for traversing long distances on anything with two wheels, and with a rugged travel top to go along with it, she has mingled herself perfectly in the swarm of people. Considering the task she was going to undertake, turning up there in her GF apparel was clearly out of the question.

Ladratos is a large town, but luckily only a quarter of its land area is the actual industrial district, where most the economic activities and the population thickness are very much concentrated. The rest of the conurbation is a charming morph between the rurals and the suburbs. Gisela made sure she was familiar with the details of the vicinity.

As the newbie cadet private walked through the dense cloud of people, she kept her eyes peeled as she scoured the place for any establishment that fitted Thomas' description of it. She couldn't help but feel nostalgic having inserted herself entirely in the scenery; the surroundings she was in looked very much like the main municipality in her own home province. She started remembering everything: the landscape, the farm lands, the people… and of course, the memories of O'Connell, both from then and now. Even though Thomas may have tried to cheer her up by saying that her chances with the major were relatively better than his are with Fiona, the mere reminiscing of the aqua-haired GF official made her heart sink altogether.

"Snap out of it, Gisela," she thought, giving herself a mental slap in the face. "You're not here to think of things like that! Concentrate more on the mission at hand!" With that, she tried to recall what how Thomas described the whereabouts and the façade design of Jon Copper's store.

_Thomas: You'll find his establishment along the 127th lane. It isn't that big, but it isn't that hard to find either. It's actually a café with an overhanging balcony. You'll love the ambiance. It's more or less like the one we all ate in when we went out that night. _

_Gisela: Alright, got that. But how would I know it's him? How does he look like?_

_Thomas: He usually mans the cash register. He wouldn't immediately look like it, but he actually owns the café too. It's a cover-up for the same reason you already know. He hates having to clandestinely run a business that isn't illegal at all. Oh, by the way, here's the list of things I'll need. And just remember what I said. Good luck._

Finally, Gisela found what she was looking for. In her own opinion, the façade might have looked a hell of a lot better during its halcyon days, but the ambiance is soothing all the same in the interior. It gives an overall rustic ring to it. Stepping inside the café, she noted every table filled with tourists momentarily resting their feet tired from long sightseeing walks. Seeing almost everyone enjoying their sips of freshly brewed coffee, Gisela longed to wish she were in their place, instead of trying to act like the cool girl out to get classified information like some double agent. She honestly felt excited taking on a daring job such as this, but simultaneously, a part of her felt deep down that she wasn't cut out for this. But there was no turning back this time; she agreed to the task even though she had the option of backing out earlier. To her, if it would all come down to her trying to prove something to herself, then so be it.

She scanned the place for the cash register area, where she ultimately spotted a balding white-haired man approximately in his sixties. He was wearing a brick red apron and was joyously in a conversation with one of the customers. His eccentrically infectious laugh somewhat emphasized his protuberant belly, which jiggled a lot with every chuckle. He may be a bit overweight for his height, but then again, what would one expect for someone at his age in the line of work he's in? To Gisela, he looked too carefree for someone to be on the watch-out-for list of the peacekeeping bureau, but he sure didn't look like a dimwit on the other hand. Finding that there wasn't anyone queuing in front of the cash register, she approached the spot with a placid yet confidently elegant walk. Staying up late to rehearse that walk over and over finally paid off.

She remembers she has to say things eloquently. Trying her best to be sagacious at a time like this can be very wearisome, especially for someone who's not used to posing as a totally different person. But she kept telling to herself over and over that it's about time she took a chance at trying her hand out on departing from being this shy wallflower to this confident, free-spirited lady. Sure, she has to be confident to get somewhere with this, but she knew she had to be careful too not to turn out unabashed. Though she's quite reassured that not a single hair on her head will be harmed, it still would be a big letdown for everyone if she bungles up in this, so she had to take this seriously and with every ounce of prevenience nevertheless.

"Anything I can help you with, miss?" came the overweight sexagenarian's ebullient greeting. This was Gisela's moment of truth.

"A cappuccino please," said Gisela, curling her lips up in a calm yet assertive smile… the best she can come up with in that situation. She didn't let her gaze off the older man's eyes. "Make mine a grande, choco-laced."

"A grande choco-laced cappuccino it is," said the man as he turned around to start up the cappuccino machine. "It'll come right up. Anything else you'd like to go along with that?"

"No, just a cappuccino."

Copper eyed her discreetly thereafter; he has been in Ladratos much more than anyone else in the room was, and he knew almost every perennial tourist that comes by his café by heart… almost too well that he was dead sure Gisela didn't come from around there. Somehow he had a feeling she was there for something more than just a cappuccino… something that didn't involve any leisurely sightseeing at all.

"Looks like you've been traveling a long distance," commented Jon, still keeping his jovial temperament untouched. "The conditions on the road hadn't been too friendly to you too," he added as he pertained to the dust coating most of the surface of Gisela's boots.

"Yeah," answered Gisela quite casually. "You look rather busy yourself. Seems like the usual business day for you, am I right?" Jon's subtle suspicions heightened; that was quite an easy giveaway to Gisela's supposed arrangement. But every indication pointed to her not looking like she had anything to hide.

"You bet," replied Jon in a boastful stance no less. "When it rains, it pours."

"Chyeah… can't argue with you on that one."

"So… what brings you here on this sunny day?" recommenced Jon's probing, delicately making it sound like a routinely banal chat, just like the one he cracked up with another customer earlier.

"Sale day," said Gisela. "Who'd want to miss out on _that_?" She didn't know what else to say. 'As sharp as they come,' just as Thomas had said. She could feel her heart beginning to pick up its speed.

Jon's undeviating gaze, on the other hand, never left Gisela's stare, which on the other hand was starting to veer as if she was looking directly at a bright light. 'As sharp as they come,' came that same phrase resonating in her head. "Sale day won't be 'til next month," said Jon in a baritone voice. It was beginning to creep the cadet private out.

"Really? Damn, I came all this way for nothing," exclaimed Gisela, trying to make her demeanor appear pissed and disappointed. She was doing everything she could to keep her nervousness at bay, but the tide was beginning to grow bigger and harder to control. "Seems like the brochure's got it all wrong. Someone ought to fire the advertising manager."

"You're not from around here, are you?" Jon sounded like he could see right through the cadet private. If he only knew, Gisela was beginning to shiver in her dust-covered boots.

"Is it that obvious?" answered Gisela, this time trying to sound nonchalant. She had to sing a different tune, and she had to do it fast. "I guess you've got me there. Well, what can I say?… Just passing through. I was on my way to the Northeast Stead when I ran short of fuel. So while I'm here, why not look for a place to reload?"

"And you decided to come reload in my café…" interrupted Copper, as if finishing Gisela's sentence for her. "I'm flattered, I should say."

"This café, that café… what's the difference?" said Gisela coolly. "The coffee looks, smells, and tastes all the same to me."

On hearing that icy note, Jon snorted and turned back to the coffee machine annoyed, thinking that maybe Gisela wasn't who he thought she might be. The cappuccino was ready; he packaged the caffeinated beverage gingerly and handed it over to the seemingly undercover cadet private.

"Is this for here or to go?" asked Jon gruffly.

Gisela seemed to have the upper hand now. She smiled cunningly, leaned forward a little over the cash machine to get a closer look at the old man, and answered composedly, "That depends." At the same time, the metal cross Thomas entrusted slipped from under her travel top, and dangled clearly within Jon's field of vision. She closed her turn on the conversational exchange by asking, "You've got a vacant seat I can use?"

The expression on Jon Copper's face changed almost immediately as he saw the familiar pendant hanging around the cadet private's neck. He shifted his gaze back to Gisela's eye level and said, "I believe that can be arranged."

Gisela's heart was pounding furiously in her chest. Luckily, she was used to having palpitations during line formations and inspections that she had the least difficulty not breaking a sweat. 'This is it, Gisela,' she thought. 'Make it or break it.'

"Right this way," said Jon afterwards, with the former joviality of his mien greatly diminished down to a trace. He ushered Gisela to a corner of the room not immediately obvious to the unsuspecting tourists enjoying their coffees brewed to their liking. There, she surprisingly found a table and chair; she was perfectly sure those pieces of furniture weren't there a while ago.

"Please, sit down," came an unfamiliar voice. She was doubly surprised to see as well the same customer the old man was talking to back at the cash register area; he pulled back the chair and gestured in a gentleman way to Gisela as an offer for her to sit comfortably on it. 'Is he in this whole set-up too?' she thought to herself.

She accepted the capriciously gracious offer, but naturally with some reservation. She wasn't quite sure yet what she was getting herself involved with.

Upon settling herself down, Gisela notice that same guy who offered the seat quickly exiting the scene. That corner of the establishment she was in, as far as one can tell, stood as the VIP section of the café; it was relatively much quieter than the main area almost filled with various day-trippers talking nineteen to the dozen. "Finally, we can hear ourselves talk," began Gisela, still not dropping the confident veneer. "You're Jon Copper, right?"

"That's right," answered the balding white-haired man, who apparently stayed behind.

"I've been wanting to have a chat with you," said Gisela, winking flirtatiously at the old man (at the same time wincing inside and silently denigrating herself for doing so; that was absolutely _not _her style of getting things done). "Can now be a good time?"

"I could arrange for that as well. Just let me get back to my post first."

"Sure. Oh, and can you be a dear and hand me my coffee? I left it there by the cashier." This time, Gisela wasn't sure if she was already overdoing it.

Jon had that seethed look on his face as he left the VIP room for the cash register. While he was there, he gestured something indecipherable to that same man who was together with them in the room earlier; it became more apparent to Gisela that that man could be one of Copper's henchmen, and this worsened her apprehension.

'Ooh, I sure hope I'm not going to turn up dead here, Thomas,' she thought worriedly.

In a matter of seconds, Jon was back with the coffee she ordered. He gently placed a paper under-layer on the table right in front of her before putting down the grande cappuccino. Right beside it, he laid down a couple of paper napkins as well.

"Let me know if you know what to say," he muttered ultimately, moving the paper napkins slightly aside, enough to expose a small note he slipped under it. It wasn't the everyday phrase you'd hear in a café, but Gisela immediately understood what it meant; the word-game starts here.

Gisela opened the note and silently read what was written. It wasn't a threat letter, nor did it contain additional instructions on what to do from here to get where she wanted, or rather needed, to be. What was written absolutely made no sense!

_'srwuanjsobnustahhatsunbosfreaeotr'_

She was feeling absolutely nervous where she was sitting, and had to assume Jon was sensing her fear at this very moment, like a predator getting a whiff of the blood of its kill from miles away. But in the midst of that, nothing could bizarrely excite Gisela more than a challenging word-game. She scrutinized the confabulation, reading it back and forth, and dissected it using every code pattern she could think of. She did this with incredible speed and precision (and without a pen) that, within 10 minutes, she had the answer. But instead being happy about it, she felt otherwise.

'Ten minutes?' she thought in relatively misplaced awe as she looked at her watch. 'It's all too easy, and I don't like it.'

She downed her coffee edgily. She looked over and over again at the piece of paper Jon left under the napkins he handed to her, thinking of other possible answers to this written gibberish. Finally, she grew tired of the suspense. Catching Jon's eye by raising her hand, she called out, "Check please."

Naturally, Jon came to collect the empty coffee cup, the napkins, the shady note, and Gisela's cash. As he came back from the cash register to hand over her change, he said in the same baritone voice, "Follow me."

'What? Did I pass?' were the only questions the cadet private could think of asking herself. Gisela can ultimately give out a sigh of relief, knowing that she hadn't let the others down, after (and _only _after) seeing that the deal is actually done. But right now, she had no other choice but to follow Jon to where the pre-agreed transaction might be deemed conducive.

The older man led the way into a dark room. He pulled on the switch of an overhanging incandescent light before closing the door. Situated just below the light is a wooden stool; the overall effect made it look like they were in a dingy interrogation room. No evident displays of mechanical parts could be seen elsewhere within the vicinity. Gisela was not liking this one bit.

The sound of Jon Copper's voice didn't exactly sound comforting either as he said, "Please do take a seat, Miss Reimers."

Gisela froze. Beads of sweat started forming on her forehead as the sound of a lock clicking came cutting through the cold air of the dark room. By the door stood the same man posing to be one of Copper's henchmen… the same man who offered her a seat back at the VIP room. He was tossing and catching the key of the door's lock playfully with one hand, with guile gleaming in his eyes as he stared adversely at her. Things were getting more bloodcurdling by the second.

"How the hell did you…" she asked finally.

"Oh, we know everything about you," interrupted Copper, sounding rather threateningly. "Who sent you… who you work for… those kinds of stuff. So, got the answer to my little seatwork yet?"

Gisela was frightened out of her wits, especially more when Jon's henchman started laughing ominously in the background. She did all she could to keep it together under pressure. "You didn't answer my question. How the hell did you know my name?"

Jon and the henchman began circling around her slowly. "It's really impolite in these parts to answer a question with another question," started the graying man. "But for our purpose, I'll just say I have eyes and ears everywhere in the Central and Western Continents."

'This is great… _just_ great!' thought Gisela to herself derisively. 'Something that'd be worth my while: just what I always wanted. Way to go, Gisela!'

She tried to take advantage of the dim light to reach into her back pocket for her knife. If only she knew in time that something would go very wrong, she would have brought something that'd do more damage than just a switchblade, instead of listening to Thomas' reassurance and taking his word for it. She never killed anyone before, and always wished she'd never have to. She was quite average in performance when it comes to hand-to-hand combat… but that was with protective pads and cushions. This, on the other hand, was a few minutes short from being the real thing. Losing her life this way by any chance wasn't going to be part of her life's plans.

"Anyone I know in particular?" she asked while buying herself more time. She prayed her best that the answer to her question would come out to be 'no.'

"A-A-aah," said Copper sardonically as he shook both an index finger and his head sideways slowly at her. "That wouldn't be smart now, would it?" The henchman came laughing again following the wisecrack, but he sounded a little more stupidly at that.

"Is there anything else you can do besides laughing, dickwad?" snapped Gisela at the henchman, who still remained nameless to her. Luckily for her, she finally grasped the handle of her knife and flicked it open. Still with the hand holding the blade strategically camouflaged behind her, she prepared herself for an all-out attack. Lashing out that vulgar slang term at someone with a torso as big as that of the henchman's didn't seem to be the brightest of ideas, but Gisela was too into the heat of the moment to be tackling on ethics.

"Yeah. Now that you ask, I can also do this…" said the henchman as he started to lunge toward the cadet private in an attempt to hurl something at her… something presumably hard and metallic. Gisela was about to release the most primeval of screams of fear as the henchman started advancing a couple of steps. But before the both of them could do anything else, Copper suddenly intervened, stopping everything altogether.

"Whoa, hang on there for a sec," said Copper as he extended his arm to block the henchman's path towards Gisela. "We still don't know if our little rose here's got the riddle. I hope she'd say something… well… not like she has any other choice…"

"Sure looks that way, doesn't it?" sneered Gisela, trying her best to ignore the raging palpitation of her heart. She could feel the muscular organ beat violently against her bronchi, making her voice come out rather shaky. "By the way, that riddle or yours… if you could call it that… it's the most pathetic excuse for a word-game if ever laid my brain on. A child of three can answer it. Anything better you could come up with?"

"It you're so smart, what's the answer to it then?" asked Copper, almost like a growl.

"I'd say 'the sea' but the answer can also be…"

All of a sudden, battlecries from all around resounded, chanting the word 'WATER.' In a split-second, Gisela was soaked in that same substance the name of which everyone was shouting out loud. In her peripheral vision, she could see water balloons being hurled at her one after the other. Simultaneously, the room became much brighter as more fluorescent bulbs started burning to give off its light. One of the walls of the dark room slid wide open, revealing more people throwing the same neutral liquid ammunition at her. Shrills of frivolous laughter can be heard undoubtedly all over.

"W-what… what the," cough Gisela, intermittently stunned by water balloons hitting her face. When the perpetrators used up all their 'ammo' in the end, the cadet private briskly wiped her face and shouted from the top of her lungs, "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Cheers eventually accompanied the laughter. Clapping and applause followed. Seeing more clearly after wiping her face, Gisela noticed three more people entering the scene… a male and a female appearing to be in their early thirties, and a woman more or less the same age as Jon Copper.

"Relax, Miss Reimers," laughed Copper, this time with the malevolent bearing completely shed off from his personality. "We're just letting you have the tangential version of your answer to my little quiz."

Still dripping wet, Gisela didn't know what to make of it. It felt like she was in the middle of a surprise party, only it wasn't her birthday, and it was a shower of water balloons that came down instead of confetti. It all became so absurd all of a sudden, but she was absolutely glad on the other hand that it wasn't with her blood that she's totally soaked in.

"I'd like you to meet my family," began Copper proudly, in between chuckles, as he called the rest of the people into the room together.

"Can you kindly enlighten me of these goings-on?" asked an annoyed Gisela, slightly pouting at that.

"Ha ha ha! This isn't an underground syndicate we're running, Miss Reimers," said Jon Copper, the loose skin hanging around his neck waving rhythmically as he chortled. "No one's going to die over some failed transaction in a legitimate business. And don't worry… we're nowhere near being cutthroat barbarians."

"Still you didn't answer my question…" said Gisela acerbically, still apprehensive and chagrined, as she guardedly put away her switchblade.

"This is all Thomas' idea," answered Copper in guarantee. "He phoned in yesterday to tell me that you were coming. Again, don't worry: only your name and the fact that you're one of Thomas' friends are pretty much what we know about you."

"W-what? Thomas? Are you meaning to tell me that…" started Gisela, stumbling over her words.

"Yup… GOTCHA!" said Copper as he flashed a toothy grin with two thumbs up at the flummoxed cadet private; he imitated the same winking gesture she did earlier at the VIP room just to tease her.

"Thomas was in this all along?" exclaimed Gisela, breathing deeply with exasperation.

"Sorry for putting up this rather spine-tingling charade," spoke the woman appearing the same age as Jon for the first time, stepping forward and handing Gisela a towel. "It's kinda like our thing; we do this as some sort of initiation into our little 'circle of trustees.' Besides, it was more for sizing up how far you've come and how much you need to improve with your self-confidence. Thomas did mention you're rather shy for someone from the Guardian Force with a Ph.D. under her wing."

"This is my wife, Julia," said Jon as he introduced the soft-spoken woman formally. "Ha ha ha! I can't wait to call Thomas. That gangly boy's been nagging me all morning, asking me again and again if you've already arrived, and… um… how this little lark turned out. Finally, he's going to get his answer."

"Oh, he'll get his 'answer' alright when I get back to the Red River Base," Gisela said heatedly while raising a clutched fist. She had to admit, however… she was trying her best to suppress her laughter.

Taking some moments to think back at how she carried herself all that time, she could feel the warm blood filling up her face in a furious blush. "This is SOOO embarrassing!" she whined, burying her face in her hands.

"I didn't realize right away that it was you we were supposed to be watching out for," confessed Jon. "How you moved and talked was way off how Thomas described."

That little piece of critique was indication enough for Gisela that those late nights' rehearsals absolutely paid off. At any rate, that was a plus sign for her. But she had to ask too… "And what about the cross? That's gotta count for something at least."

"The cross served its purpose, like you thought it would," said Julia.

"And yes… everything Thomas said about this cross is true… from its history down to how I distribute them to members like him, although he may have stretched it a bit on that Unum Supervivere thing," added Jon. "You know how he tends to exaggerate things a bit."

Gisela could just imagine an impish-looking Thomas snickering while sticking his tongue out at her, saying 'Nyah, nyah!' 'Ooooh, Thomas, you big nut! Wait 'til I get my hands on you!' she thought groaningly while playing that mental picture in her mind.

"Now, now, kid… don't make things hard on yourself," said Jon in reassurance, albeit still trying his best to hide his mischievous smile. "Everything but the water balloon-throwing part has been part of the test. Well… that last part was our idea… y'know… purely for climactic fun. Without the cross, I might have not recognized you. I gotta hand it to you, you hid your personality well. You'll pass by me."

The cadet private finally gave in to the complement. "Thanks. Now I know I'll be good for at least _something_."

"That's not what I've heard from Thomas and your friends," came a smooth and rather handsomely sounding voice from where Copper's henchman stood previously. "I heard you're a physicist too."

Gisela turned around expecting to see the henchman's somewhat squalid appearance, but instead discovered a totally different looking guy holding a prosthetic nose, false skin, and a wig in one hand. She didn't have to take a second look to appreciate the stunning attractiveness fairing to be in league with O'Connell's. That goony henchman appearance from earlier had been a disguise all along!

"As for your fighting skills, you're gonna need some work on that, though," the guy continued with a sparkle in his grin. "Maybe my sister and I can help you out on that." Gisela melted in his captivating smile; she was absolutely tantalized by the scene unraveling before her.

"Uh… r-right," stammered an apparently entranced Gisela, trying to regain her composure.

"Oh, where are my manners?" said the guy after become conscious of the obvious lack of preliminary introductions. "My name's Matthias, but you can call me Matt. That one over there's my sister Vera and her husband Kai."

Both Vera and Kai waved gently at Gisela on the preamble. The cadet private smiled unconsciously and waved back without difficulty. Despite being wet from the water cannons, the atmosphere seemed to be strangely cozy around these people. She felt she was beginning to like being in their little 'circle of trustees,' and in just this short a time at that.

"By the way, some nice choice of words you've got back there," said Matt, pulling Gisela suddenly out of her musing.

Gisela's face again reddened vehemently in mortification. The sight would have been more amusing if steam actually cannoned out her ears. "Thanks a lot for reminding me," she muttered derisorily.

"No problem," answered Matt. "That was feisty. Just what I like in a girl."

Gisela could just faint in utter loss of composure. "I'm so, so sorry. It's so not my style to say things like that. Guess I got carried away there…"

"Well, now that everyone knows each other, let's get down to business shall we?" came Jon Copper's cheerful interruptive booming; he had to somehow prevent Gisela from further making a total dork out of herself from the discomfiture.

"Yes, let's," agreed Julia as she took Gisela by the hand. "Come, dear. Let's get you out of those wet clothes." The older lady then led her into another room beyond the retractable wall of earlier. After a while, Gisela came out wearing a rather comfortable piece of attire common in the Ladratos locality.

"Now don't we look lovely," commented Julia in innocent adoration. "I'll have your original clothes cleaned and readied in no time." The coziness was hard to resist, but Gisela still made it a point, nonetheless, not to get too attached to them. Every now and then, though, she would steal glances at the features of the unsuspecting Matt. He looked a good deal similar to O'Connell and wondered if this family was actually related to the major.

"Now… for what you actually came for," started Jon, rubbing his hands briskly together with gusto, seemingly excited to show off his collection of used parts. "Got the list?"

"Oh, you mean this, dear?" queried Julia as she carefully pulled a soggy piece of paper out from Gisela's wet clothes she was still holding. The ink had clearly smudged through, leaving unintelligible blotches.

"Mm-hmm, I see… our bad," said Jon crisply. "Well, never mind that. Thomas phoned it in too all the same."

"What the…? After letting me go through all this trouble…" said Gisela, returning the exasperated tone into her voice, though meaning it half-jokingly as well. "Oh, I'm really going to kill him this time." Everyone had a laugh after that.

"After you, ma'am," then came Matt's voice from a corner of the room. Beside where he stood was another doorway leading into a long and just-as-dimly-lit tunnel-like pathway. They could clearly see the bright exit a good number of meters away through the wormhole. He, Jon, and Julia went along with the cadet private, while Vera and Kai stayed behind to man the café.

While the remaining four of them treaded along the dark conduit, Gisela thought it best then to try to know the people she was with. "Just out of curiosity," she began. "'Jon Copper' isn't your real name, isn't it?"

"That's as far as familiarity goes with you, half-pint," said Jon inoffensively. "I've made quite a lot of enemies back in my day during the war, and I've no intention of making any new ones here in Ladratos."

"I'm using my real name, though," pointed out Matt. "And so is mom. We're the unknowns backing dad up in his business."

"I've done a lot of daring, and even dangerous things back in my day," continued Jon. "I got involved a lot in underground vigilante groups during the war in the hopes of ending it soon. I would still be at it, fighting for another cause if it weren't for Julia here. She helped me changed the way I looked at things in life… and thankfully because of her, I abandoned the precarious life entirely.

"This venture was something Julia and I both dreamed of starting. Just so you know, we didn't build this whole thing up overnight, and the whole process wasn't at all easy. There was the emergence of the underground smugglers' syndicate for one thing. And thinking that we had a lot to do with them, both the military and the peacekeeping bureaus were all over us. Almost got imprisoned too because of that. What hurt more was to have some of our collaborators turning against me and leaving for the underground smugglers, thinking they'll get a lot more out of that. I can't say I blame them. Their families needed feeding, but still…

"That was the time when Vera was about two years old, and Julia was still pregnant with Matt. There had been some attempts on my life by the smugglers, thinking I'd lead the military right to them. So I had no other choice but to flee, lest I get my whole family killed. That's when I had to assume business names for our protection. I couldn't just leave this line of work. It wasn't at all lucrative back then, but we had the best chances with it."

"So how did Thomas know about you?" asked Gisela right after, moving on to much less melancholic recollections.

"Yeah… Thomas," started Julia. "I hope that boy's getting enough to eat. Last time I saw him, he looked like he'd be easily blown over by the breeze. When was that again, dear?"

"Hmm, y'got me there," pondered Jon. "Right… that was about a year ago. First met him when he was this college student. Just another one of those gangly adolescents that come and go in the beginning back when we had our shop in Europa. Always turned up to ask for or look at what new arrivals there are, yet wouldn't buy a single thing. But he came by ever so often that I started to get a liking for that lanky kid."

"Yeah, kinda like having a younger brother hanging around," said Matt. "Hey Dad, I think he even worked for you in your shop for a few months to help get himself through university."

"Yeah, that's right," said Jon in recollection. "He sure did change over the years. First time I saw him, he always acted clumsy and absentminded. He moved like he didn't know when to put one foot ahead of the other. But he sure helped increase the sales when he started working for me… that's for sure. Seemed to know a hell of a lot more about zoid parts than I do. Had to let him go after a few months, though. Those from the peacekeeping bureau had been breathing down my neck again, and I didn't want to get him involved. Those military thugs kept rambling about some contraptions they call 'hybrids.' I don't know what kind of stuff these underground bastards are cooking up, but they sure ain't like ours."

Gisela may have to agree with Jon on that. What was shown to her back at the briefing they had at the main conference room of the Red River Base was basically what she knew about the weapons smugglers and the hybrids. But she can always ask Thomas anytime if she needed any more details regarding the smugglers. This probably may have been one of the reasons why Thomas took this whole quixotic quest personally. He may not have a lot of friends, but he highly appreciates the value of having one.

"Just don't take things wrongly when Thomas made you come all this way to be ambushed by a bunch of water balloons," said Matt, interrupting Gisela's thoughts. "Let's just say I know how Thomas feels sometimes… y'know, being left out and all. If improving one's lot means starting with building one's self-confidence, he'd do it in a heartbeat. I guess that's what he wanted to happen with you. It looked like you needed help in building up yours."

"Yeah, maybe so…" said Gisela at last, as she finally realized Thomas' motives. "But I'm still going to kill him, though," she added jokingly.

As they reached the other end of the passageway, they entered right into a big well-lighted warehouse. One could use the same cliché words over and over to describe the spectacle… but it all comes down to it being absolutely every surplus shopper's dream come true.

"Behold my masterpiece," said Jon as he majestically showed off his vast inventory. All Gisela could do was to give out an awestruck whistle of appreciation.

(Chapter XIII coming soon)


	13. Chapter XIII

_Hello, I'm back. It's been a while. Sorry I kept you all waiting. Been really busy adjusting. Bet you thought I'd given up on this project. It turns out I've been working on what eventually resulted in a very long chapter (obviously). Someone told me through a review to keep breaking my record… so I did, again, ehehehe! But, seriously, this chapter's supposed to be a long one. I just couldn't trim it short, lest I leave you hanging over the edge again._

_We've got the usual mainstays of Zoids in this fanfic, as well as my own characters (if you've reached this far, I'd assume you know who they are already). However, I'll be eventually introducing someone who was actually featured in one episode of the Zoids-GF series (only one episode)… a character that has been thought by watchers to die in the end of that particular episode, or so it appeared. I'm going to bring that character back into the story. No, it's not in this chapter. If you're itching to find out who that character is, I guess you're left with no choice but to read on to find out. ;)_

_Oh, right, I forgot to tell you that Jon Copper and his family (i.e., Julia, Matt, Vera and Kai) are among my own characters too… strictly FYI._

_For now, I'll be giving you a taste of some of the action that's in store (y'know, the action I keep putting off in the previous chapters). Enjoy._

**WILD CARD**

**Chapter XIII**

A mantle of darkness once again swathes the northern terrains of the Guylos, with the early autumn mist imperiling the retiring summer epoch into an impetuous exodus. The weather of the vast Haazthar territory is a definite and abrupt change for someone coming from and wholly accustomed to the relatively warmer southland climate of the Western Continent. The fog loutishly draping the horizon was exceedingly copious that a sightless traverse through the obscurity of the moonless night is nothing short of an incongruous enticement to an indefinable danger somnolently waiting to materialize. There's no wonder now why any rebel faction would choose to establish their stronghold here. The allure of cutting the overpowering thicket of shadows with a machete is but a pitifully insufficient suggestion, even for a metallic structure as massive as an artillery zoid.

But is didn't seem like its pilot had much of a choice. He had something he absolutely needed in Axides, and he had to get it through any means possible – 'by hook or by crook,' like how people would put it – even if it meant battling the hostile environment of the north-northwest range, where the risk of a mischievously thieving death stealthily waiting at every doorstep is but a mundane way of life. The perception of having virtually no one dear waiting for him at home may have offered an adequate amount of uncanny recompense to advance impartially toward the uncharted.

The cold air unquestionably augmented the echoes of the DiBison's metallic hooves clanging against the rocky topography. Coming out of a restive trance, Thomas willfully finds himself riding into the night. There was so much that happened lately that the long and derailed array of events had been inadvertently spliced out of memory, collectively making the blonde lieutenant wonder how he got to be in the middle of nowhere in the first place. That was a feat he seemed to have developed a flare for lately… yet had somehow made everything remain faithful to his traits. He couldn't help but feel in due course that something unearthly was moving him in this direction… and even that was putting it mildly. Descriptions could have been much worse, and it was the best euphemism he could arrive at in a situation like this. In all aspects, he finally got a chance to be alone with his thoughts while swaying inside his faithful zoid mechanically prancing across the wasteland that might as well be seemingly impenetrable boundaries between civilizations.

Unable to recall in full clarity every minute detail of previous-day occurrences seemed more like the norm after feeble attempts of looking back at everything that happened. The younger Schubaltz had to keep persuading himself that his actions, at any rate weren't laying it on too thick for key figures to so much as stir up a suspicion on what they, as a group, were up to.

If it was everyone's unconditionally unforced decision to take investigative matters into their own hands, then in hindsight, it was quite obvious that there's no good worrying about anything. The whole drama of who takes the fall just in case is but a triviality at this point. The inclusive cooperation would surely be nothing short of 'one for all and all for one.' Of course, the spur of the moment was enough to fuel the spirits. Nevertheless, if they'd get caught, they've nonverbally committed to making it an interesting ride… so interesting that even spectators can be moved into applause at the very least. For everyone, especially Romy, the effort has become a means of redeeming whatever sense of self they had left.

Whether the younger Schubaltz would survive the biting cold of outside will remain to be undetermined until the moment he volunteers to step off the driver's seat into the outdoor. The machine-generated heat from his zoid had perfectly emulated the tepid atmosphere of the south right in the confines of the cockpit, making Thomas surprisingly finding himself thankful for it for once. He let his thoughts wander one more time, again plunging him back into the collage of earlier events frivolously thrown together into a jumble – that is as much as he could remember, in sleep-deprived attempt to organize everything in his mind's file drawer.

He could still feel in his right earlobe a bit of soreness and warmth as he remembered pressing it forcefully against the telephone receiver for a good half-hour, trying to make out every word from the faulty line of that intercontinental phone call from Gisela. The lucid intervals of that wire conversation stuck vividly to his mind best, luckily. Talking to someone using the old-fashion telephone lines was much cheaper than carrying out discourse through hologram screen projections. As sophisticated as picture-phones have become, however, they still fare poorly in performance with very long distance communication; the good old headset and receiver have yet to be permanently replaced.

"_Heya, Gisela… how's it go-…"_

"_Don't you 'heya, Gisela' me! And you'd better not be smiling or I swear to God…" came a bellowing female voice raging from the other side of the fiberoptic. It sounded fumed enough, but the clouded reception made Thomas have his doubts… and these doubts inadvertently led to a stringently shamefaced attempt at deciphering intonations. He didn't know how someone like Gisela would take a practical joke (even though paved together with good intentions in its own grotesque way), and felt extremely guilty for not considering that bit of possibility even for once. Worries only proved to be mere wasteful energy expenditures after hearing that the staggered sounds in fact resembled giggling from someone finally appreciating the value of a prank, albeit twisted in its means._

"_I don't know how I'm going to survive you when I get back from Ladratos…" came Gisela's voice, wearing from the relieving laughter._

"_All is forgiven, then?" asked Thomas meekly._

"_Don't think for a second that you're off the hook," warned Gisela. Thomas could hear the battle drums sounding in his mind's imagination._

"_Uh… right," uttered Thomas wincingly. Perhaps a change in topic was the right prescription he needed. "So, heard anything from Sebastian yet?"_

"_Nice try, Schubaltz," said Gisela plainly, seeing right through the blonde lieutenant's bulwark. "Don't worry, though… I'm sure you're just as concerned as I am about Sebastian. No… nothing yet. I sure hope he calls soon; it's starting to worry me a lot. Goodness knows what sort of things his dad puts people through… even with his own son…"_

_This sent a chill down Thomas' spine; scary as his brother was sometimes, he was at least thankful that Karl wouldn't do anything unthinkably brutal to him. 'She can't be serious,' he thought. Then came silence intermittently interposed by the static muffling up the line. "Any more bad news you've got there for me?" went off a jaded query from the lieutenant thereafter._

"_I can give you the good news first if you want," began Gisela's unexpected spry tone avidly contrasting the sudden forlorn turn of earlier. "I don't know yet if you'll find the bad news to be actually bad news…"_

"_Alright then," said Thomas, putting a clincher on things. "Just tell me everything as it happened."_

"_Well, after recovering from the 'welcoming committee' you painstakingly prepared for me (thanks a heap… and can that ridiculous giggling, will ya?), I finally secured all the things you… or rather, we… will need. Oh, and by the way, 'Jon Copper' isn't his real name, like you said. He was very accommodating, though… so much more than I pictured him. And very nice too. Said he'd be shipping off the parts by batches starting tomorrow to lessen the bulk." The perkiness in her voice arrived suddenly at a subdued stop, as another dominating interval of dead air followed._

"_That sounded like good news…" resounded Thomas finally, though mildly vexed and goaded at how the pause sort of threw a damper on everything, as he picked himself up after being bowled over by the inertia of the anticlimax._

"_Jon's short on a few stuff, and he ran out of others as well," said Gisela, not sounding happy either. "He said the polarity reversers would be arriving in a few days' time so he'd just probably pack it up easily with the later batches of equipment. But as for the satellite transmitters, I'm afraid it's a whole different story. Jon said he has some good references but told me he'd just send that bit of information straight to you when I offered to convey it as soon as the two of us get a chance to talk. I guess he didn't want anyone getting a wind of it in case the telephone lines are being tapped. He instead wanted me to tell you word for word to 'keep your fingers crossed.'"_

_Thomas immediately understood what it meant. He bade his quick goodbyes before Gisela began thinking of other means of verbal retaliation. He thanked the phone operator by giving him a modest tip, and went straight back to his quarters. It was 2000 hours where he was, seven hours ahead of the Ladratos time zone._

_He had to keep everything under lock and key… everything including the door to his quarters, lest he'd get another taste of being invaded by a raving lunatic that goes by the name of Dr. D in the worst state that he can be. Beek's new program was right about done, so naturally further distractions were the last thing he needed in the world right now. He figured he'd come this far, and it was unreservedly pointless to turn back. He'd be a real glutton for punishment, though, if he'd finally come to realize that it's a great minefield before his eyes he was seeing, and yet still chose to march on… but then again it was just him over-inflating what didn't need to be blown out of proportion in the first place._

_The data-transferring process of Beek's new program coming on its way was just a fraction of a whole making up Thomas' barely-containable excitement at present. Gisela has done her part successfully, and the next step depended solely on him. Plus, he might just have a chance to try out the novel and untested software he custom-designed for his AI, as well as a chance at having a go with Sebastian' hologram inducer._

"_Alright, Beek," said Thomas as he waited in anticipation for the task status bar on his computer to reach a solid one-hundred percent. "It's almost time to show your stuff."_

_A fleeting bleep of 'roger' was the AI's onomatopoeic response. Thomas paused. That sounded very much like 'no worries' as well; he could only think of one person in planet Zi who could vocalize those words pretty well with an uncompelled essence of reassurance._

_Thomas' heart sank as he remembered his encounter with Dr. D. That certainly put off some of the fire of excitement he was feeling to be burning inside him. The idea that everything good had only a short time to last was finally sinking in. Pessimism has again scored another point towards victory. Dr. Koebner had to give an explanation, and it had better be good for Thomas' trust to be gained back by him… though that opportunity has to wait until the lieutenant gets another chance to accidentally bump into him again._

_The best idea Thomas could think of for the moment was to converse with someone else who knows the elusive psychologist as well, if not better._

"_Hey kid, getting ready for your nanny to tuck you in your bed?" greeted Thomas cheerfully as he activated his Beek-generated hologram communicator._

"_Very funny, Thomas… you're making me laugh my head off," answered Marianne sarcastically, although wearing a seemingly adorable pout on her face. "So, what's up that couldn't wait 'til tomorrow?"_

"_Remember when you told me that Dr. D and Dr. Koebner don't get along and that you'd give anything to see the look on Dr. D's face when the two meet each other again?" asked Thomas continuously, not pausing to take a breath of air in between._

"_Yeah, I remember," replied Marianne with a quizzical look on her face. "What about it?"_

"_Well, let's say I've had first-hand experience at Dr. D's supposed 'priceless' reaction," said Thomas in a regulated timbre._

"_Say that again…" was said by Marianne with disbelief quite evident in her voice._

"_You heard me right," said Thomas, though fully aware that this piece of news can be quite a letdown for the Emperor's fiancée; she wanted so much to have front seats for the big face-off. "He was delirious like a maniac that just escaped from a mental asylum… and that isn't even like him as far as I know him."_

"_Get out!" exclaimed Marianne, now with a mixed vibe of incredulity and disappointment attributing to some missed opportunity._

"_I'm telling you… it's the absolute truth," said Thomas, trying to sound as convincing as he was apprehensive about the issue. "And that's what scares me."_

"_A lot of things scare you, Thomas," groaned Marianne. "But I guess it was just a matter of time before they'd actually face each other once again. They'd have to at one point."_

"_Actually, they haven't bumped into each other yet," interjected Thomas. "Apparently, the idea alone of Koebner being in the same vicinity ticked Dr. D off so badly."_

_Marianne was taken aback when she clearly saw Thomas' expression growing prophetically serious afterwards. "Be square with me, Marianne," he said gravely. "Did this whole thing involve anyone or resulted in anyone getting killed or severely maimed for life?"_

"_Not that I know of… No!" answered Marianne, she herself beginning to give in to the fear of the whole notion of a loss of lives promoting the feud between the two men of science. "No, I don't think so. If there was something in that line that happened, Rudolph and I would have known that a long time ago. Now don't you go getting any funny ideas, Thomas, or…"_

"_Or what? That I'd make a complete fool out of myself?" challenged Thomas. This time it was him brandishing the annoyed pout._

"_Exactly," said Marianne simply and bluntly, raising an eyebrow and curling her lips into a roguish grin. "There's nothing to worry about, Thomas. His loyalty and trustworthiness are immaculate. Whatever it is that's been going on between him and Dr. D is for it to be settled between him and Dr. D only, and no one else… absolutely no interferences. You got me there?"_

"_OK… OK… since you put it that way," said Thomas finally, though not yet totally convinced with Marianne's candid guarantee. "I still can't help but think that it's either Dr. D's got some major adjustment problems or there's something more to the surface than what we know about."_

"_Suit yourself," said Marianne. "But don't say I didn't warn you."_

"_Thanks for the vote of confidence," added Thomas derisively._

"_Thomas, relax," said Marianne cooingly. "There is nothing to get so worked-up about. I know for a fact from Rudolph that Dr. D's reactions can sometimes be quite extreme for something so relatively inconsequential when he's under a lot of stress. Now go to bed and take your rest; it clearly looks like you need a lot of it."_

"_Alright, I believe you," said Thomas in surrender, though with a weary yet warm smile appearing on his face thereafter. He figured there was no point to continuing the conversation, especially when he was starting to lose at his end of the argument. "Thanks for clearing some of the doubt, though."_

"_I really hope it did," said Marianne cynically at the reprise, but eyes smiling nonetheless. "Goodnight, Thomas. I'll talk to you again soon."_

"_Yeah, goodnight too." With that, the hologram screen turned itself off._

_Despite being happy to have had another opportunity to chat with his 'adoptive' sister after a long time, Thomas didn't seem at all satisfied with what he got out of the colloquy… however inarguably genial it is, like the rest have always been with Marianne consequently. His instincts kept on nagging him incessantly how she sounded more like covering up for the psychologist._

"_I guess I'll have to find out the real version to the truth for myself on my own then," he said to himself conclusively, as he stored that task as yet another entry into his mental to-do list. He always hated it when his unrecognized assertiveness seemed the need to yield to a considerable margin of doubt._

_The CD-ROM tray automatically yet gently popped out of the side of Thomas' laptop as a distinct bleep signaled the end of the downloading process of Beek's new mathematical software. He'll have to override any other plans he had for tonight; he needed to make another important call (three consecutive calls in a day seemed so much like a costly enterprise to him). He double-checked the security of every potential orifice leading into his room; he couldn't get more zero-tolerant than that since the 'Dr. D incident.' Command prompts keyed-in to lead him to an ultra-protected avenue of communication – designed solely for the purpose of members such as Thomas to communicate clandestinely with the used-equipments dealer when left with no other alternative – brought every considerable risk of being hacked down to an absolute zero._

_A large icon of a cross then appeared on the screen, having the exact design as the one Thomas had ('You sure add style to what you're doing, Jon,' thought the younger Schubaltz lightly to himself). A cursor blinked at the beginning of a prompt line fashioned conveniently across the cross' horizontal beam._

'_Right, Jon… I'm keeping my fingers crossed,' thought Thomas again as he reflexively typed the words 'Te'oma R'kharthuz' on the prompt bar where the cursor placed itself. Anti-infringement functions kicked into action, and after a visual frenzy of bright-colored graphics finished its exhibitory display, the lieutenant finds himself one mouse-click away from having Jon Copper's bulbous yet innocuous face show up in his computer screen._

_Thomas almost fell off his seat upon laying his eyes on the screen again after skimming through his drawers in search for a pen and notepad. The distinctions that greeted him were far less puffy than what he expected it to be. The unusually nonplusing greeting may have ruffled his senses momentarily, but the instant he had gotten a firmer grip of himself, his heart welled up with overjoyed delight as he recognized two more familiar faces._

"_Matthias! Vera!" These names were the only words the lieutenant could think of breathing out loud in this rare and overwhelmingly happy feeling of reunion._

"_Whoa… dude… 'Matt' works just fine with me," said Matt impishly. "How'ya doin', li'l bro?"_

"_I'm so happy to see you again, Thomas," came Vera's warm response, just as full of endearment as Matt's latter part of his greeting was supposed to have._

"_Vera… y-you're not pregnant anymore," stumbled Thomas clumsily over his pressured syllables, not knowing what else to say from the pleasurable amazement._

"_Of course I'm not any more, silly," giggled Vera at the lieutenant's gaucherie (which she found rather adorable). "It's been a year since we all got to lay eyes on each other again. Our little boy's almost seven months old now. We named him Richard."_

"_R-Richard… really?" stammered Thomas ecstatically. He swore his lips seemed to have a mind of their own as they unconsciously curved themselves up into a faint yet progressive smile._

"_Yeah… she and Kai named him after Dad's dog," said Matt forthrightly, earning him a gentle slug of annoyance from Vera. He shortly gave away every indication that he was just teasing the younger Schubaltz, however, for he saw the lieutenant's smile muscles lose their tone as fast as his enthusiasm was curbed by the pun. Taking Matt's every joking word serious, Thomas softly uttered the words "But you never owned a dog."_

"_Oh, c'mon, Thomas… I'm just kidding ya. Who else would they name him after?" then went Matt's hilariously compensatory assurance._

"_You're the first person outside our family who has left a very strong and lasting impression on us all, Thomas," said Vera as she fondly smiled at the lieutenant (whose eyes started becoming watery with emotion). "The first time we saw you, we felt we've known you forever… just like siblings would know each other for a lifetime."_

"_Yeah, that school-boy gawkiness of yours stuck to us to most," echoed Matt, still in a playful mode._

_Thomas could feel the lump in his throat grow bigger. He finally came to realize there are other people who actually care. He was so centered on his selfishly anguished emotions that he never took a chance to look… finding out a long time after that true friends actually exist even in the furthest of places._

"_If only I could get there by diving through the computer screen, I'd do it in a second… and embrace you all so tightly, you'll turn blue gasping for air," joked Thomas, though his voice sounded like it'd almost break into sobs._

"_Easy there, soldier… isn't embracing punishable by death in the army?" sounded Matt in a comically wincing manner, trying to lighten up the general mood as he sensed Thomas'._

"_Oh, let him shower us with mushiness if he wants to," said Vera, lightheartedly telling down on her brother. "Every soldier needs to, even if they're too proud to admit it. By the way, Thomas… you're looking good today."_

"_Yeah, getting sturdier there… though I can't tell if you've been working out or somethin'," said Matt, sounding like he couldn't get enough of teasing Thomas. The younger Schubaltz didn't mind one bit; he enjoyed the good humor anyway. "Mom was afraid that there wouldn't be any more meat left on you," Matt continued. "Seems like joining the army's turned out to be a fulfilling endeavor by far."_

"_If you could call being a reputed sideshow fulfilling," answered Thomas tersely._

"_That bad, huh?" said Vera concernedly. The blonde lieutenant simply scowled back in reply._

_There was an abrupt intermission of a few seconds' duration… then came an annoyed Matt bursting out, "Don't you think you've had enough of that?" as he slapped his palm unknowingly on the desk before him, scrambling the hologram reception momentarily. "If I'd tell you to hang on there… in return, you'd most likely ask 'for how long.' So I guess now wouldn't be a bad time to tell you that you can always come on over to run off with us," – Vera automatically nudged her brother on the head again – "No, seriously… give being a renegade some thought. It wouldn't be a bad idea after all if you'll see it as I do."_

"_You don't have to listen to him, Thomas…" retorted a smiling Vera. "He's just saying what's on his mind again… incautiously." Thomas simply gave a gentle chuckle at the remark; he knew Matt meant well._

"_How are your mom and dad… and Kai?" Thomas asked._

"_They're all doing fine," answered Vera. "Dad and Kai couldn't be here right now. They're busy packing everything up while Mom's at the café looking after things. They all miss you as well."_

"_Dad told us to give you this message," said Matt, growing serious now. "You must've known from Gisela now that we ran out of satellite transmitters. Used ones in tiptop condition don't come around anymore as easily as before (the peacekeeping bureau must have put up some sort of regulation on them), so I'm afraid you'll have to settle for brand-new ones. I know, they cost a lot… but Dad says you can get them legitimately at a really good bargain up north in Axides."_

_Thomas sank back on his seat in desolation. It won't be until next month when he receives his next meager paycheck, and he wasn't certain if the remainder he has left (that is, minus the expenses for the used parts he just ordered) would suffice. As much as he wanted to shrug off the spiteful feeling of insecurity, his face started registering nothing but clear and present unease. During these times, he wished he hadn't forestalled himself from fitting in a sideline job in his hectic schedule… like what Annie did… like what _he _used to do as well in the past._

_Matt tried all efforts to make every bit of information easier to swallow. "I'm really sorry to break it to ya, bro," he said empathetically. "I know this setback's a real bummer, judging by your expression. But if it's any consolation (and I hope it would be), Dad said you'll just be paying for the parts. The delivery and other things are on us."_

"_Thanks, Matt," said Thomas with a weary smile of gratitude. The pendulous gyration of happenings and revelations drained a lot out of the poor lieutenant; all he could utter dejectedly in the end was "On top of that, Axides is too far from here. I can only get permission to go there if I've got a better reason than to comb the place for a satellite transmitter…"_

_As he drifted his sight aimlessly across the room, something caught his eye surprisingly. He drew himself up heavily from where he was seated, walked to his bed, and carefully picked up the small black metallic box laying noiselessly on top of the sheets. A mien short of a satisfied grin slowly repainted itself across the lieutenant's face, as he stared at Sebastian's hologram-inducer in his hand._

"_Unless…" began Thomas steadily as the same cogwheels in his brain started cranking up again. The fleeting expression of disappointment was quickly replaced by a refreshed look of excitement._

'_Uh-oh, what's he up to again?' thought Matt with a warning suggestion as he observed the younger Schubaltz swoop up the pen and notepad he left on his desk hurriedly._

"_Who do I have to meet up with in Axides?" asked Thomas fiercely with pen and paper ready in his hands._

Just then, the DiBison gradually reeled into a sullen stop, brusquely fast-tracking Thomas' thoughts back to the present. The zoid had already run the entire length in which it was supposed to be on automatic-pilot. The lieutenant had trouble deciding whether or not the curtly interrupted reminiscence was a mere piece of wistfulness that managed to play itself through that transitory somnolent interlude of his. The completed mechanical halt of the DiBison, though plodding to its approach, still jolted him a few millimeters off his seat, ultimately waking him up entirely from his unrefreshing catnap.

Thomas slid a quick look over a few gauges that lay in the upper most panels of the controls. Temperature was down to two degrees centigrade, while humidity was pinned at 45. Atmospheric pressure read a measly 850 millibars. The younger Schubaltz comprehended that, despite the altitude he was in, he won't be needing a portable oxygen delivery system for that just yet. Gaining back his bearings, he snapped on his protective goggles, pulled over an extra jacket to combat the miserable cold, and cracked the canopy lid open to make preliminary admonitory scouting of the homogeneous surroundings.

Scrutinizing the distance as he peered through his binoculars, Thomas confirmed he was still to far off from his supposed destination, but subsided to the precaution that bringing along his faithful zoid any further beyond their present point of standstill was not at all a safe option. He will have to leave the DiBison from here on at the mercy of the barren weather, with only stealth technology swiftly installed in its mechanism as an uncertain defense. He'll have to continue the rest of the journey on foot.

Thomas cursed silently to himself at the bestowed circumstances. He scrambled for his timepiece as he slipped his fingers under his goggles to rub his tired eyes; it was already 0430 hours… roughly nearing five hours since he left the Red River Base. The sunrise in this part of planet Zi won't be until 0800. If he hadn't brought his DiBison along (running the fastest it could on the measly upgrades he could incorporate it with), goodness knows how much time it would have taken him just by traveling alone.

'The hourly sentry report should be in by now,' ruminated Thomas as he positioned himself back in the cockpit and slammed the canopy lid shut. Just then, another hologram screen appeared on the control deck, flashing the prompt '0432: No unusual activity to report.' "Good," he breathed in slight reprieve against the sickening pace of his heartbeat, restless with nervous anticipation. "No one's noticed I'm gone yet. If I manage to stretch this on over the next forty-eight hours at most…"

Not waiting to wrap up his thoughts, he commenced changing his clothing to slip into a much warmer local disguise, notwithstanding the cramped amount of space he was allowed inside the cockpit. Thomas then reached down to remove a scrap of paper that was shoved way down the bottom of one of his army trouser side-pockets before he unceremoniously stashed the whole fatigue garment into a stuffed rucksack containing all the other paraphernalia he'll need. The lieutenant snorted with impatience as he ironed out with his palms the crumpled item that bore the rushed and tousled scrawl of a certain name.

"_Dagobert Mohl," played the same familiar voice again in the younger Schubaltz's memory._

"_Say that again… I didn't catch that entirely," Thomas remembered himself inquiring eagerly, as he tried to get down the whole name on paper with the proper spelling. His face was almost touching the computer screen back in his quarters at the Red River Base._

"_Dagobert Mohl," repeated Matt uncomplainingly and more intelligibly. "He's one of Dad's suppliers; he's the one living up north in Axides. Personally, I don't trust him as much as Dad does (though I admit Dad maintains a certain level of reservation in all his transactions). I met him once; that character's just too seedy for my taste. I would tell you to keep your guard up well around him… but that's just me. Even so, be careful."_

"_Right… got it," said Thomas, going over what he wrote. "Dagobert Mohl,… a pseudonym as well?"_

"_I don't know… probably," answered Matt. "I guess a lot of people go by one nowadays."_

"_How do I find him?"_

"_You know how the old and tired line 'don't-find-him-he'll-find-you' gets used a lot… well, don't be too disappointed, though, if I tell you that's basically the only way you'll get to meet him," said Matt in a matter-of-fact fashion, not trying one bit this time to sound funny. "That's how he works about with his operations. He frequently hangs out in a pub called 'The Barren Refuge,' from what Dad told me. I've seen pictures of the place. Its name is befitting of its sleaziness, if you ask me."_

"_Axides is a fairly big territory, so it may take you some time to find the spot," said Vera, virtually pointing it out as a reminder. "We're downloading a detailed map of the area as we speak. I wouldn't advise pitching camp along the outskirts, though. The climate's not exactly friendly for any outdoor activity. You'll see what I mean once you get there. Just be ready with any eventualities."_

"_Right," affirmed Matt. "Pubs usually don't open 'til evening (then again, I don't need to tell you that), so you'll have plenty of time to look for the right one. Once you're in, however, the rest you'll have to leave up to chance. He doesn't act randomly when it comes to choosing rendezvous places, and he isn't going to stick around long enough to get found out. Needless to say, he takes every precaution seriously. He's had his share of rough times with both the military police_ and _the smugglers themselves."_

"_A few tips," added Vera. "Don't let him catch you eyeballing him too much from a distance; he'll easily give you the slip if he thinks you're up to something he doesn't fancy. Go to him straight on and get right to the point with him."_

"_Alright, got that down too," finished Thomas as he ripped the inked leaf out of the notepad he was writing on._

"_Message sent… mission accomplished," said Matt jubilantly thereafter as he stretched his arms. He then turned towards Vera with an impish smile on his face._

"_Why are you looking at me like that?" queried Vera naively at the sight of Matt's gaze._

"_I hope you won't mind, sis," said Matt, still smiling naughtily at Vera. "Guy-talk."_

"_Oh alright, alright… I'm taking off," said Vera afterwards in slightly annoyed capitulation. "I'll meet you again at dinner tonight. And don't forget about the map."_

"_Yeah, I'll take care of that," answered Matt in between at the reminder._

"_Goodbye, Thomas… 'til next time," bade Vera. "You take care of yourself now." The siblings exchanged goodbyes as well. Thomas waved back at her, and in a few seconds, he could no longer see Matt's older sister in sight from where he was._

"_Hmm, it's been a while since I had some guy-talk myself," said Thomas keenly, scratching his cheek as he tried to recall the last time he and his older brother Karl went on a guy's night out. There couldn't have been many instances to summon up at that, since Karl was the only one in the Red River Base who'd offer such an occasion to the blonde lieutenant._

"_So, Thomas…" began Matt almost immediately after Vera exited the room he was in. "Rumor has it you still can't manage to get a lovely vixen to share the foxhole with you."_

_Thomas momentarily choked in semi-suppressed flabbergasted amusement on hearing the sentence that couldn't have been more bluntly blurted out. Somehow he had a feeling that one was coming. He instinctively and half-laughingly verbalized the first foolish thought that came across his mind:_

"_I don't think I have to hear that from you. You talk like you've been in a commitment forever. As far as my observation goes, you're not exactly the one who'd just dive into any relationship to make up for lost time, let alone be in a serious one."_

"_You didn't have to be so direct," said Matt, still smiling, while wittily rubbing the space between his nose and upper lip with an index finger defiantly. "You didn't think I wasn't aware of the whole thing, did you?" Thomas threw him a smug look in exchange._

'_Alright, Gisela, you little stinker… you got me there,' he thought groaningly; he figured Matt couldn't just have plucked the idea out of thin air, unless someone fed him the information. But then again, it was obvious enough. After all, the only people whom he believed knew about his thing for Fiona besides Gisela and the others are Matt and Vera. He eventually deserted the thought of Gisela having anything to do with compounding the matter, though jokingly as it may have been primarily intended._

"_Say, Matt… I haven't told you this before… younger brother to older brother, so to say," said Thomas, rather uneasily at that. "I'd give anything to have your charm… and probably your looks too for that matter. I think it's cool the way you carry yourself. There's something strange about this whole picture, though. I don't know if it's just me, but it didn't take a long time for those girls who went pouring into the shop-…" Thomas paused upon seeing Matt casting him a perplexed look._

"_I meant that shop where I worked for a few months… back in Europa," clarified the younger Schubaltz. "Anyway, those girls who regularly came over to ask if you were around… it didn't take long for them to totally lose interest in you. Now why is that? You haven't been giving them the cold shoulder, have you?"_

"_Are you talking about the time-…" started Matt, still seeking to decipher what occasion Thomas was trying to bring him back to._

"_Most of them're pretty, that's for sure," continued Thomas, apparently not hearing a word from Matt. "Clearly you must have at least felt something…"_

"_Let me just correct you there: I didn't have girls throwing themselves all over me left and right," said Matt in haughty correction (and slightly blushing at that), finally remembering the time when Jon Copper had a business outlet in Europa. "And of course, I've been attracted to some of them then, but…"_

"_It may have been you being a bit too hebephrenic on occasion," analyzed Thomas, though a bit priggish at that, again failing to allow Matt to finish what he wanted to say._

"_Hey, now wait just a minute there," interjected Matt in objection but to no avail._

"_For starters, I think you should drop the delusion that girls find it sexy at times," went on Thomas unequivocally. ("What the-…," spluttered Matt, progressively going red in the face) "I suppose that's probably one other reason why they quickly abandoned any possibility of ever going out on a date with you ("Hey, where are you coming from with all this?" griped Matt, with voice almost reduced to a squeak with utter loss of composure, face blushing more ferociously now)… that is, aside from you ignoring them."_

"_So what if I'm too picky with women?" stipulated Matt, eyes starting to twitch from the discomfiture. "Maybe I want someone who actually has a heck of a lot more depth than they appeared to have." He immediately felt embarrassed afterwards for ever throwing out that statement, which may come off a tad deprecating to some._

"_You do know guys can run out of time, too, right?" asked Thomas obliviously._

"_Hey, will you let me explain myself, yeah?" called out Matt at last in protest for his exoneration, his face as crimson as a strawberry, nonetheless trying to suppress his laughter at the same time. "I'm 30 years old… what d'you think? I do keep a timeline, if that's what you're wondering about. I'm trying to beat a deadline too, for crying out loud!"_

"_Pfff… Ha ha ha ha ha!" came Thomas bursting out in laughter, seeing that he could no longer contain it. He at last caught Matt in his own game._

"_Ohoho, OK… I get it," mellowed Matt with a relinquishing smile, shaking his head in slight incredulity as he leaned back on his chair. While looking amiably at the lieutenant, he said, "I guess a finally got what I deserved, huh? I'm happy to see that you finally mastered the art of loosening up."_

"_Sorry," said Thomas naughtily (amidst chuckles dampening down) at the carelessness for eventually monopolizing the whole conversation, which he admitted nonetheless._

"_I just want it to be special… that's all," Matt continued, again tackling the subject of commitment. He exhibited a facial expression appearing to grow more solemn this time. "I really hate the idea of experimenting and gaining experience through trial and error by jumping from one relationship to the other, even though a lot would say that's the inadvertent course. I know, it sounds far from my reach, but if ever I finally get into a relationship, I want it to be it, y'know… lasting… lifelong… along with the one and only girl I'll ever have the honor and pleasure of spending my whole life with. Somehow, you can tell if this girl is your soulmate… and I'm not trading any chance at finding her for anything else. I'd rather grow old being alone and continuing to search for her rather than settle down with someone who's not right for me. D'you hear what I'm saying?"_

"_Yeah, I hear you there, bro," went Thomas' reply, in agreement with Matt for once during the whole duration of the guy-talk. "Too bad that's too ideal… especially for us."_

_Matt listlessly raised his arms to the back of his neck to utilize them as an anatomically provisional headrest. "'Ideal' is a relative term, Thomas," he said in an unstrained tone while gluing his stare to the ceiling; his posture wasn't necessarily indicative of being taken over by disillusionment._

"_About Fiona…" Matt continued shortly. His tone betrayed a strong hint of sensibility and concern, which seemed rather inconsistent when placed alongside contesting the relativity of the connotation of something 'ideal.' "Don't you think she's beginning to seem like a lost cause? I mean, she's long been involved with someone else, in case you haven't notice it until now."_

"_Don't say that," said Thomas calmly, but with some upset evident in his eyes. He felt like something dug into his chest that was threatening to suck out any modicum of hope for love he had left. "Van sort of confronted me a few days back. He sounded rather possessive. I didn't know how he knew about my feelings for Fiona… but it felt like he wanted to throw down the gauntlet… so it seemed… that was, until a stupid distraction came. Everything was sort of left in midair, so I never got a chance of knowing what he wanted to happen. It sounds stupid…_ everything _sounds stupid… but it somewhat gave me the idea that he was bracing himself to fight me to keep Fiona with him. I hate to regard Fiona as some prize to be fought over – and the two of them didn't seem to be taking anything to the next level – but that instance made me feel like Van accepted me as a worthy adversary…"_

"_I see where you're getting at," said Matt, acknowledging Thomas' unfaltering decision not to let go of his tight grasp on the thought of the ancient Zoidian. "You've grown old enough to handle it… and I'm proud of you because of that. But don't forget… things like these tend to blow up strongly in your face. I'm just offering concerned words of advice. I don't want you dwelling so much on something that'll be part of the cause of your ruin… something you'll greatly regret in the end."_

_Both simultaneously breathed in deeply and gave out sighs of exasperation. "Another great person I know told me time and again that everyone is truly loved at least at one point in their lives," started Thomas. "I don't expect you to take it in just like that. Truth is I also find myself looking out for such a chance… with that important someone truly loving you back. I'm just wondering what's taking it so long for us, though."_

"_I guess there are still a lot of members of the opposite sex who don't fully understand guys like us… y'know, guys with idiosyncrasies that are just too noticeable to overlook," said Matt. "Whether you like it or not, guys like us will still be seen as hormone-driven dogs who don't actually take love seriously. Being fair and all, I think it's also true that a lot of guys still don't understanding women as well._

"_Y'know what, Thomas?" Matt continued after taking a moment to ponder. "The two of us… it's like we've both got the personality of the wolf – alone but longs for the company of others. And they're fascinatingly monogamous, too. I've got a hunch, though, that if fate finally smiles on us, it'll be love that'll definitely last a lifetime. And_ that,_ bro, is the sweetest thing. Y'know what they say: 'Always keep your eyes peeled.'"_

_Thomas propped his head up upon hearing Matt's last phrase. Clues that kept reminding him of Dr. Koebner continued coming around lately. He almost felt like the whole mess was telling him something, but he chose not to bring the psychologist up in this conversation. He absolutely didn't expect Matt to be quoting lines unknowingly from Koebner, who now became for him a tremendously illustrious individual. But he sure did catch his drift on bringing up the wolf's personality._

_Matt then leaned forward, coming closer to the computer screen, as if trying to whisper something to Thomas. "Say, Thomas…" he began. The lieutenant lifted his eyes up in curiosity at the sudden change of tempo._

"_Is… uh… Gisela… err… seeing anyone?" Matt asked awkwardly, trying to avoid Thomas' naturally probing gaze, again playing out the mannerism of rubbing the space between his upper lip and nose with a forefinger._

_Thomas leered at Matt. He knows for a fact that the dynamics between Gisela and O'Connell are synonymous to his towards Fiona, and that the cadet private held real feelings for the major. Whether Gisela, in sweet revenge, actually gave the game away or not didn't matter much at that moment; he knew how sensitive the topic on Gisela was, but even if it wasn't so, he'd never break a promise. Who knows, maybe fate might be beginning to smile on Matt. Thomas had to admit, Matt does look a bit like O'Connell, so there might be a chance for Gisela to fall for him._

_Little did he know, however, that Gisela already did._

"_No, she isn't," answered Thomas. Matt uttered something after that… something sounding towards a morph of relief and excitement. The lieutenant didn't catch the word in its entire clarity, but seeing Matt's lips move, he was pretty sure he said an excited 'Great!' under his breath._

"_Oh, I almost forgot," said Matt suddenly. "Dad doesn't keep a contact number or whatnot of Mohl, just as Mohl doesn't divulge any contact information of his to anyone. So when you finally meet him, strike up an interesting conversation with him at once. He has a knack for ancient Zoidian coinage. Maybe you can start with that one to catch his attention. Of course, you can always go for the obvious; used zoid parts interest him as much as it does Dad. Just as long as you recite this sentence shortly as you go along…"_

Thomas then ends the reminiscence, finding himself wholly exposed to the stinging cold of the Axides airstream for the first time. Wind velocity was just tolerable, though the draft still made a scathing noise against his ears. He unfolded the bottom part of the same crumpled paper still in his hand. He switched on a torch built in his headgear and started reading the last line silently.

'_Fortune manages to find the person who needs it the most.'_

Bringing his other accouterments with him (that including a printout of the map Vera and Matt provided), and seeing that he hadn't forgotten anything, Thomas got out of the cockpit, slammed the canopy lid shut, and climbed down the towering DiBison. In seconds, his feet were firmly planted on the cold slabs of solid rock that may have otherwise been the monumental highway that siphons northbound travelers to the very spot where he had parked his artillery zoid.

He gazed back at the piece of paper he was holding to make sure he read every scribbled information right. After memorizing the vital data, he scrunched the rumpled leaf up into a little ball and chucked it in his mouth. As he started chewing his unlikely meal, he tried to extend his sight beyond five meters, but the visibility was tremendously appalling because of the thick fog. Only then when it struck him lock, stock and barrel: was this worth risking his life for? The most the bright side of things could offer him was that he'll have enough indigestible fiber in his stomach to last him for a few hours, that is, aside from saving him the worry of disposing the piece of paper completely and properly without anyone in Axides getting wind of it.

The lieutenant quickly swallowed the nonnutritive roughage altogether (with difficultly). He then connected a few wires from his portable Beek piece to his goggles, and hid his AI strategically under his fuzzy headgear. "From here on, it'll just be the two of us, Beek. It's a good thing there isn't any snow, or we'll be in real big trouble."

With that said, Thomas activated the stealth mechanism installed in the DiBison's circuitry. In an instant, the lofty mass of the zoid disappeared into thin air. "I'll come back for you, ol' buddy," he spoke to his faithful zoid. "Keep yourself safe, alright?"

The lieutenant heaved the bloated backpack onto his back and started walking a few steps forward carefully. "Scan the surface for any obstacles or crevices, Beek," ordered Thomas. "From here on out, you'll be my eyes."

Beek bleeped in response. At that same instant, Thomas' field of vision (through his goggles) lighted up a dark green, as if seeing the world through thermoscan vision… only not. Icons flashed every now and then, darting schematics and grids to outline the edges of jotting rocks and pitting depressions on the jagged pavement he was walking on. A small diagram of a compass flashed on the left lower corner of the field; he followed an 'N 30 E' direction, just as what the map indicated. It was going to be a slow stride, but he'd choose arriving safely in one piece amongst anything else at any day of the week.

"Get me anything you can find about ancient Zoidian currency while you're at it, Beek," Thomas added to the array of commands for his AI. He'll have to wait until he gets to the Axides town proper before he could go over whatever literature Beek could provide him to learn about bygone numismatics. Getting himself out of the biting chill and into a warm bed was his top priority for the time being. But he reckoned he could still afford to continue playing his recollections to at least keep him entertained throughout the remaining on-foot trek.

_He remembers going down the hangar, with the program disc containing the aforementioned software in one pocket, and Sebastian's hologram-inducer and notes in the other. It was around 2100 hours, an hour before the night float starts to assume duty, but the hangar lights were already out. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if anyone with the proper identification came doing repairs on a zoid at this unusual hour, so Thomas switched on the lights at where the DiBison endured motionless._

_Outfitted with his laptop under his arm, Thomas stopped to study his zoid. The permanent dents on the DiBison's metallic hooves are only a few of the unavoidable defacements that it had to inflict upon itself to keep up with the Lightning Saix and the Blade Liger. If only the lieutenant could offer his zoid some kind of caudle for these bloodless wounds, he would. "Well, buddy, we may never know if our stars can be changed anytime soon, but I'm sure as hell not just going to lounge around and wait for blessings that may never come to simply fall on our laps," was all he could say on the other hand._

_He then took out Sebastian's notebook to make some last minute cramming on the mechanics of the hologram-inducer. While going through the instructions, he placed the black apparatus a few meters to the left of the DiBison. After pressing another button hidden behind its retractable latch, a silky slit-like beam emanated from it and scanned the entirety of the zoid. The process didn't make any noise, but the beam was too bright. Thomas was afraid that the light scattering and finding its way out of the hangar might attract the attention of sentries outside counting off the remaining minutes of their shift. Darting through any possibility of avoiding getting caught, he repeated the procedure as fast as he could with the device scanning the front, back, right, and bottom of the soaring artillery zoid._

_Finally, the hologram-inducer had all the input it needed to make an exact illusory replica of the DiBison. The exhilaration of running the risk of being caught brought beads of cold sweat over the lieutenant's face and neck. He quickly picked up the cubic contraption off the hangar floor and closed the latch. His heart was racing from the excitement and tension, and the first thing that came to his mind was giving out a deep sigh of relief. His apprehension calmed down a bit after that. He felt better following the exhalation, and his body gradually became calm. The new feeling that eventually overcame him was bizarrely warm yet inviting. He knew he sensed something like this before, but couldn't exactly put his finger on it._

_As soothing as the feeling entailed, Thomas brought his guard up suddenly again; he knew things as good as this always had a catch. In an act out of impulsion, he hastily turned around._

_There he saw Fiona standing, to the lieutenant's great surprise. Was it she and her radiance that he sensed?_

"_Good evening, Thomas," greeted Fiona warmly. "I didn't know you were still up."_

_Thomas promptly stuffed the hologram-inducer back into one of his pockets inconspicuously as he hurriedly straightened himself up. "U-uh, g-good evening, too, Miss Fiona," he said in a voice jiggled around by the butterflies that started fluttering swiftly in his stomach. "Just got bored, I guess." He was careful not to tell what he planned to do with the DiBison._

"_How's everything with you?" she asked serenely afterwards._

"_Alright, I suppose," replied Thomas hesitatingly. He wasn't feeling apologetic for lying at that moment, not because he hadn't the liberty of telling how he really felt as one of the presenting options. He just didn't want to worry Fiona or put her in an uncomfortable situation. What he got in return from the ancient Zoidian, however, was a strange and unexpected look. It almost felt like she had an immense concern for him. He was unsure if his body-language yet again made a grand give-away of his emotions… and it was undoubtedly scaring him._

"_How's the investigation going?" asked Thomas quickly, in the hope of diverting all attention from the beguiling awkwardness._

_Fiona, though putting on a faint smile, still preserved her consoling yet mystically penetrating gaze. "It's been slow," she simply answered. "There's nothing conclusive yet… though there has been something going on up north in Axides, so Van and the others figured…"_

_She didn't finish her sentence, but Thomas already deduced what the Zoidian beauty wanted to say. A gap of silence ensued and Fiona's gaze became more intense. It was a bit too much for the lieutenant to handle… so much that it became all too nerve-racking for him. Something was telling him (possibly his intuition) that he wasn't going to like what was to follow this._

"_Van proposed to me," said Fiona softly, her appearance giving no hint of departing from the growing expression she formerly displayed._

_Thomas stared back at her in a pitifully stunned manner, as he played that phrase over and over again in his mind… hoping it would take forever for it to sink in. But it didn't; he vividly comprehended its entailed import almost instantly without being allowed any breathing space. Another of his supposedly outlandish hunches has come true… the curse of having an intuition. The overall sight is probably what anyone could unthinkingly label as 'the most pathetic.'_

_Thomas knew he couldn't hide his dismay and desperation any longer, so he made it look like he unintentionally dropped something to give him a wide open chance to turn his face away from Fiona. "Excuse me," he muttered submissively as he purposefully released Sebastian's notebook onto the hangar floor._

_He took all the time he could to keep his face away from Fiona, forcing his need to pick up the item he 'fortuitously' made to slump down on the ground to be his slow and shallow excuse. He only had that short an allotted time to squeeze out his heart-aching grimace without giving anything away._

_Aside from its use doing nothing to describe it, the word 'pathetic' blatantly insults sensibility as well. Perhaps no word could get close to illustrate what one feels when everything he dreamed for is cruelly downsized._

'_So you've formally secured your victory, Van,' thought Thomas painfully as he straightened himself up again and deposited the notebook he theatrically picked up and transferred into one of his upper-garment pockets. It's been four years since Thomas had known Fiona. Putting that up against that same amount of time plus the previous years she and Van have spent kindling their friendship may probably be just one of the many factors guaranteeing the latter his ascendancy. But Thomas completely understood that Fiona's feelings came first. He cannot make her choose one over the other… though he was pretty sure she would choose Van without a moment's hesitation. Thomas loves her too much to impose his yearnings on her._

_It's been said that the true strength of one's love for another shows if he or she learns to totally let go for the other's behalf… but that wouldn't do much nor mean much for Thomas now. He wasn't sure himself if he was ready to let go, for he had the pervasive feeling Fiona wouldn't come back to him in kind if he finally did. If only he could hold on to what never was for as long as he could…_

_This indeed caught him sharply at an unexpected time, but he knew he fought a good fight. He foresaw that something like this would finally come along, but it never crossed his mind that it would occur in such circumstances. Others would say 'it's about time,' but all the words the blonde lieutenant could fork out from his throat in the end were…_

"_Good for you, Fiona. When did he propose to you?"_

"_It's been a month now," answered Fiona solemnly, without a tinge of reservation._

"_So, when's the big day you tie the knot?" continued Thomas complete with a cheerful grin, trying to sound thrilled and casual as much as he can. He wondered if Fiona knows the truth, and that the serendipitous news was utterly killing him._

"_We haven't planned that far yet," said Fiona. Her once dawning serene smile was starting to fade. The immense concern Thomas initially sensed from her started to feel more like pity. This provided an additional sting to his pincushion of embarrassment._

"_Congratulations," greeted a seemingly gleeful Thomas, precautious of unnecessarily revealing the smarting twinge in his eyes as he fought to hold himself back. This is but another defeat he'll have to receive, no matter the reluctance. "I'll make sure I extend my felicitations to Van when I drop by his quarters."_

_With everything proper exchanged, he expected (and, now deep down, wanted) Fiona to leave without anything further to declare. As he urbanely set his laptop on the hangar floor and started it up, he waited for the warm arcane aura to wane, but it didn't. He opened a latch of a compartment in one of the DiBison's legs in his nonchalant best and started gently pulling out rolls of wire which he connected to the back of his laptop. Still he could sense Fiona unwaveringly standing where he saw her. Maintaining his sincerest smile, he looked back at the ancient Zoidian and politely asked, "Is there anything else you wish to share with me, Miss Fiona?"_

_Fiona still had that unusual look; this time, it started to make the younger Schubaltz feel like he was every bit responsible for it._

"_I'm sorry, Miss Fiona?" queried Thomas worriedly. His trademark stuttering in times like these had depicted itself in its most overbearing. "Is it because of… w-was… was it something I said?"_

"_No," said Fiona. It was the most reassuring a pleasingly laconic response can be… despite the pretense it might have been for Thomas. Though still not perceiving anything unpleasant in Fiona's demeanor, her intent look began shading over with an astute hue. Still not taking her eyes off the lieutenant, she asked, "What do you truly think about all this, Thomas? What is it that you're thinking about now?"_

_Thomas never expected to hear anything like that from Fiona. He battled himself to respond as dismissingly as he could (still kneeling on one knee before his laptop and typing commands on it) by saying with interludes of supposedly amused chuckling, "What sort of questions are you asking me, Miss Fiona? Like I said – good for you. I-I'm happy when you're happy."_

"_Why are you still pretending that you're alright with all this?" asked Fiona openly. A dumbfounded Thomas halted everything he was doing. What Fiona said disabled him instantly, as if a ton of bricks rained down on him. But somehow, he felt he had that one coming. After all, if he can actually sense Fiona's being now, there's no doubt Fiona would have known what was in the lieutenant's mind. He wanted to move… to stand up and run away from the embarrassment… but he was helplessly reduced to staring motionlessly at the laptop screen._

"_Is there still a need to ask that?" asked Thomas resolutely in response. It seemed like his stammering self had abandoned him. Maybe the likelihood of having his klutzy nature briefly cease to be as prevalent as it ought to be for a change was a plausible enough premise worthy of being debated on after all. He likewise wondered subconsciously if it was just because of the heat of the moment._

"_I just want to know what it is really…" spoke Fiona calmly, though it may have sounded almost like demanding. "What do you really think about this, Thomas?"_

"_Wanting me to say out loud something that you already know is rather ironic… not to mention redundant… even for you, Miss Fiona," said Thomas tentatively._

_Fiona remained quiet for a moment, and then spoke, "I don't know what thoughts are racing through your mind, but I can to feel your pain, Thomas." Her tone then muted a bit as she continued, "However, I don't know if there is anything I can do about your pain."_

_Those words cut through Thomas like a knife. The connotative affirmation of her mien should have been reason enough for the younger Schubaltz to believe that he may have meant nothing at all to Fiona. In the midst of all the craziness in his life, the ancient Zoidian represented all the hope he can hold on to… and he has a distinct impression that by now Fiona would have already known that much. But simultaneously, he was also under the distinct impression that Fiona was again unknowingly toying around with him, wanting to see more, as if seeing him fumble or repeatedly lose himself wasn't anymore entertaining as it had been in the past._

"_What else do you want me to say, Miss Fiona?" asked Thomas resignedly. "What else do you want me to do?" When he said this, his gaze was already away from the computer, and straight into Fiona's pink irises. His lips then went and remained inert, but his eyes conveyed everything loud and clear: 'You know how much I'm dying inside… so what else do you want from me?' His mind spoke stridently enough that it sent an aura that jolted Fiona's expression._

_Fiona gently clasped her hands against her heart. Starting to breathe uneasily, she answered, "I want you to be honest, Thomas… especially with yourself."_

_Thomas' ears started to hear a piercing and uncomfortable ringing, complicating the feeling of something breaking inside. "What's in it for you to hear what I think or feel? Can't you tell by just looking at me?" he shot indiscreetly, feeling the same probe of despair shearing and sinking through his chest again. It all happened too fast. He wanted the searing pain to stop. The next thing the lieutenant knew, strong words were already falling from his lips in a bellowing voice. "What's in it for you that you have to hear it straight from me? Why are you telling me this? Is there a sensible enough reason for you to put me through all this again?"_

_Fiona's pleasing eyes began to be noticeably watery, but no indication of shaking was demonstrable in her steadfast voice. "I love Van, Thomas. His asking my permission to spend his whole life with me in marriage, and my granting of that permission, are but other ways of professing our love for each other, only deeper…"_

"_You've accepted his proposal… so what else do you need me for?" snapped Thomas, slowly shedding off every bit of inhibition towards Fiona that had always swaddled him tightly._

"_You are holding me back, Thomas," said Fiona gently, with the same eyes that have now grown misty. "I can feel Van's strong devotion for me. The love that the two of us share is sealing itself, but it can't seal itself completely, for I can still feel the clashing distraught emotions of others who have established significance in my life."_

"_I see," said Thomas cynically in despondency. "Again, I'm very much mistaken for ever thinking that you came to me because you're truly concerned about me. Man, why did I even take a stab at hoping for all these years? I'm sure 'significance' is just another fancy word… mostly just a front being nowhere near having that much meaning, I suppose?"_

"_I am concerned about you, Thomas," said Fiona. "More than you'll ever know."_

"_Then what do you want from me?" demanded Thomas imploringly, weary to the bone from the emotionally draining ordeal of deciphering every seemingly contradictory statement. "You've got to say something more convincing than that, 'coz I'm finding it hard to believe."_

"_There is no simpler way to put it," continued Fiona, still as solemnly as she had always been. "You have an insurmountable mass of unconveyed uncertainties and abstractions that I can't see through. These… these uncertainties are slowly choking me. Please, Thomas… I beg of you… tell me what is really on your mind. I need… I need to hear so I can move on without any further impediments. If I know what your thoughts are, it'll be easier for my inner being to understand… and it'll be easier for me to breathe. Please, Thomas… I don't want you to love me anymore. I don't want to be torn between two people anymore. You have to let me go, even if it means making you hate me… even if it means you getting hurt in the process."_

_Hearing those words instantly froze Thomas' whole body numb._

_Her voice then came to an unexpected softness that was almost inaudible, uncertain if it remained loud enough for the lieutenant to hear. "And even if it means me getting hurt along the way."_

"_I didn't know it depended on that," uttered Thomas in an aggrieved tone, trying to hold back his tears in light of the upsetting revelation. "I didn't know bearing my soul in such an embarrassing way was needed for you to be happy together with Van. I've had my multiple shares of hurt before, but I've never had it this bad. If this is what's keeping you from being truly happy, then by all means, I'm going to drive the last nail through my coffin of shame."_

_Thomas' voice increasingly grew louder and more ominous with every word spoken: "Being true to your feelings cuts both ways, does it? I've been careful in keeping them a secret, making sure that the blade only cuts_ me _and not you. I'm not expecting anything lavish in return for that. And never once have I ever thought of it going down unappreciated by you… that is, up until now. If you want to hear it straight from the horse's mouth… then here it is: I love you, Fiona. I love your all… your perfections… your flaws… everything! I've fought my demons inside savagely to get myself to resolve that Van is the right man for you and not me. I thought seeing you happy from a distance would be enough… but it's not! I love you and I'm disgustingly jealous of Van! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?"_

_Tears had already streaked down Fiona's cheeks when Thomas finally fixed a focused look on her, much to the lieutenant's aghast regret. But she appeared strangely calm, as if the whole revealing display was actually relieving for the ancient Zoidian. Thomas could have been happy at the same time to see it turn out as such. But he couldn't help but take it as some form of lack of appreciation that was translating the whole time he kept his feelings a secret supposedly to protect Fiona into just a measly trifle, as well as the notion of telling all his carefully-guarded feelings at the right time into something dramatically adolescent. Irony had never been so stalwartly pronounced. He was hurting very badly, and it was impossible for him to ignore it._

"_I never even had a chance to say to you my true feelings back then," Thomas continued. "You, on the other hand, never even took a chance at finding out how it is to be loved by someone like me. Thinking it might only complicate things, I repeatedly abandoned the thought of spilling my guts to you. But then again, a voice inside kept telling me to go for it, even if it would mean forcing me to settle for some sort of personal closure. It kept telling me that I'm only young once to let a first-and-last chance to tell you how I really feel slip through my grasp again. I don't want to go on through life wondering whether or not you knew, just because I didn't do what my heart kept telling me to do. And just when I've mustered enough courage to tell it, stupid distractions come about. It was like everyone was scheming against what I want… Moonbay… Irvine… even Zeke. I somehow knew you sensed this going on as well, but you still seemingly chose to walk on by obliviously."_

"_Thomas, that's not how-…" started Fiona meekly._

"_So how was it then?" The younger Schubaltz had finally heard himself shout in an unbecomingly ungallant manner. He paused to indifferently snort an ambiguous admission of guilt. He soon regained his already tattered composure, and calmly said, "It doesn't matter now. You came what you sought for. If there's any compensation at all for me, it's that I've finally told you that I love you… something I had never thought I'd live to see the day."_

_Still clutching the hologram-inducer firmly in his upper-garment pocket, Thomas turned his overwrought gaze away to face the DiBison. The persistent flickering of one of the ceiling lights suspended above the artillery zoid reflected on the metallic hooves a dull sheen that was parrying as it has been emblematic in some way. "I guess that'll be all for me," sighed Thomas indignantly. "The idea of me never getting another chance to pass down this path I desire ever is going to take some… no… a _lot_ of getting used to. I'm sure as hell you'd love to hear this from me as well… but I want you to leave me alone now. I want to be left alone now. At least that way, we'd be parting ways with you happy."_

_After wiping her tear-streaked face, Fiona alleviatingly let go of her clasp on her chest. She lowered her inscrutable gaze to the hangar floor just as Thomas turned his back at her. "There is one more thing before you go," he started unpropitiously before pausing abruptly. He waited for Fiona's stare to rejoin his before he continued, "I've never asked much from you, but before you go, I want to ask you that same question you asked me. If you say I'm significant enough to be a part of your life, then what do you really think of me?"_

"_Thomas…" said Fiona, almost pleading._

"_More importantly, have you ever felt anything for me at all?" interrupted Thomas, summarily superseding and ignoring Fiona's intended plea altogether. "I have to know that one square out." Having lost her impetus, Fiona remained speechless where she was. Nonetheless, her enigmatic stare persevered the supplication of ending the appalling tragedy it turned out to be._

"_Now you answer me with full honesty the way I had kept my end of the bargain," stressed Thomas challengingly. "Even if it means getting you hurt in the process," he added shortly. Those inherently vicious words weren't the kind to be heard from someone who'd move a mountain for love, but the panacea that was Fiona was no longer there. The untimely declaration was probably the greatest cruelty Fiona had ever shown to Thomas; finding no absolute incentive not to say those same vicious words was almost understandable._

_Suddenly, the central aisle of the hangar lighted up… something that usually happens when the edifice's chief internal access – the one branching immediately from the main conference room – was opened from the other side. The hoydenish sound that resonated across the hall calling out Fiona's name could only belong to Moonbay. From the unmindful way she was moving around, Thomas was certain she hadn't heard the shouting coming from inside; he made sure the hangar entrance had been shut tight the whole time after he came in. The tanned transporter then moved saltantly from one zoid plot to the other in search of her friend, for the zoids parked in these spaces were particularly obstructing the view._

"_Hmph, divine interruption… just in time to pan everything out," breathed a pained Thomas disdainfully. Fiona remained static in her stance before the lieutenant, her look beginning to tail off from the effect of the strong emotions that were cut down to size by the unforeseen interference. Thomas looked into her eyes from his distance one more time before spitefully kneeling back down in front of his laptop to recommence his previously adjourned task. That might probably be the last time he'll ever look straight into the Zoidian beauty's eyes._

"_So there you are, Fiona," Moonbay recited lightly, walking towards the ancient Zoidian. "I've been looking all over for you. Dr. D needs you to assist him with something. The guys have been going through some stuff we found and…" Her statement was then cut short when she saw Thomas entering her field of vision just as she got around one Hammer Rock zoid._

"_Oh, you're with _him_," Moonbay said distastefully, failing to effect an introduction, as she stopped to shoot a seething glance at the lieutenant from the side of her head. Thomas threw her an unpretentious look for a moment before going back to what he was doing with his computer. Good thing the hologram-inducer and Sebastian's notebook were snugly tucked away in his pocket. He didn't want anyone to smell something suspicious, much more Moonbay, who has a magnificent talent for snooping around._

"_It's alright, Moonbay," said Fiona unenergetically with a deadpan expression. "I'll be right there shortly."_

"_Hey Fiona, are you O.K.?" Moonbay asked as she walked nearer to Fiona in concern. "You seem a bit flustered." The way the transporter carried herself, though, sustained the devil-may-care attitude she always put up around people she had a low regard of… meaning Thomas._

"_T-This is nothing," replied Fiona halfheartedly. Thomas simply closed his eyes quietly in soreness on hearing that swift depiction of everything that transpired._

"_They just brought in refreshments to the main," said Moonbay gleefully. "Maybe a couple of those will fix you up in a jiffy."_

_Fiona smiled feebly as she gently nodded her affirmation to Moonbay. Without saying anything more, the ancient Zoidian seized the chance to leave the scene, leaving the transporter and the younger Schubaltz behind._

_After Fiona was just about beyond earshot, Moonbay then set her eyes back on Thomas, this time with a contemptuous air. The lieutenant, on the other hand, acted heedless of the transporter's presence by clicking on the window on his computer screen showing the status bars of another routine uploading process._

"_Y'know, this picture of you typing arbitrarily on that keyboard of yours… it almost looks like you're actually doing something," Moonbay simpered as she languidly observed the blonde lieutenant. ('Sheesh, couldn't you get any lamer than that?' she muttered under her breath afterwards)_

"_I was essentially on to something enlightening, until you dropped in uninvited to ruin the atmosphere," said Thomas caustically, not taking his eyes off the computer screen._

"_Glad to be of service," responded Moonbay, bowing in a demeanor that was just as sarcastic as the previous. "Besides, anyone would be bored to death in the blink of an eye with all your computer junk. Clearly, making Fiona head off to join the others has done her a greater deal of good than leaving her here to chat with you…"_

"_Yeah, you're certainly doing every effort in making sure of her welfare, aren't you?" rejoined Thomas shortly with a suggested shrewdness._

"_In case you're too dense to notice, I did her a huge favor by keeping her out of the nightmare of having to keep looking at you," said Moonbay in outright rudeness. "Everybody knows, Thomas…"_

"_Just go away, Moonbay," interrupted Thomas succinctly._

"_You just don't know when to give up, don't you?" she jeered, not letting herself give in to the thought of being insolently cut off in mid-sentence._

"_Excuse me?" Thomas asked forebodingly as indignation at the position into which Moonbay has been trying to place him at. His emerald-green eyes automatically glowered in an unnerving gaze that sent another aura similar to the preceding one that struck Fiona head-on a few minutes back. Moonbay felt her chest momentarily tighten a bit as a consequence… which she was able to shake it off proficiently in a matter of seconds. She was expecting something like that to come about._

"_You heard me, and I know you know what I mean," continued Moonbay provokingly… thinking that casting an unusually scary glare was just another transient occurrence that Thomas, at his best, could come up with. She strutted forward as she continued, "A friendly word of advice, Thomas…"_

"'_Friendly'?" snarled Thomas, showing every sign of interrupting. Likewise, his progressively piercing gaze demonstrated every indication that it didn't have any well-defined point onto where it could simply stop._

_Moonbay, however, refused to take the hint, and proceeded to what she wanted to say, "Like I said, a friendly word of advice… stay away from Fiona if you know what's good for you."_

"_Have you been delegated by someone we both know to deliver that warning for him instead of handing it over personally to me himself?" accosted Thomas threateningly, canines gradually baring themselves with every word uttered._

"_Oh, Van's way too civil for that," said Moonbay trivializingly, still trying to keep up the façade of defiantly ignoring the hazard implied in Thomas' gaze by thumbing her nose in supposed triumph. "I'm doing it on my own accord. As I was saying (before you butted-in), all of us know about your fantasies you like so much to package as 'love'… Ugh!"_

"_How dare you…" slowly came Thomas' voice that sounded dangerously deep with a commencing ghastliness. "How dare you speak of it so lightly to make it sound like something perverse?"_

"_Whatever," said Moonbay flippantly. "So, what happened here just now?"_

"_None of your goddamn business," replied Thomas, the same precarious voice unchanging. Moonbay again ignored the restrained warning; instead, she saw further opportunities for pushing the lieutenant's buttons all the more inviting that she wanted to repeatedly interrupt any retaliation._

"_Oh, c'mon, Tommy Boy… no need for all that swearing," went on Moonbay's gibe; she made shrugging off Thomas' rising disquiet appear rather effortless. "Did you profess your love at point blank range finally? The whole time you tried to bring that out, did you imagine grabbing her in your arms and smooching her for all you were worth? Do you honestly think you could just overwhelm her into submission?" Injecting a babyish timbre in the talk made the mockery all the more concentrated._

"_You shut your mouth," admonished Thomas darkly, his face turning ghoulish as quickly as his gaze grew more and more frightening._

"_Why should I when I'm having the time of my life," countered Moonbay. "I like to know the details… After all, I'm the one who spilled the beans, so I guess it's just fair…" That was just enough prodding to make something snap inside Thomas._

"_What?" rumbled Thomas' expletively inhospitable riposte. That absolutely pinpointed to one of the culprits who had contributed to everything's devastation. On saying that, the transporter unexpectedly started to feel her heartbeat pick up speed uncomfortably as Thomas continued to take hold of her with his fortuitously imprisoning glare. Thomas' gaze was proving to be more immobilizing that what she expected!_

_Moonbay was surprised to feel a sweat bead beginning to form on her temple, and unconsciously took a couple of steps back… seeing Thomas for once like someone with a different and ghastly personality that had laid dormant inside for so long awaken to consume her soul that reeked of newfound fear. "Ehehe… what d'you expect?" she sniggered nervously. "What you project becomes fair game for everyone…"_

"_There's a reason why I've never told anyone…" said Thomas sinisterly as he stood steadily from previously kneeling in front of the computer. The dim light poorly illuminating the spot made it seem like the lieutenant's emerald-green eyes were glowing an uncanny shimmer. "There's a reason why I never rushed into telling her anything…"_

_Moonbay couldn't believe her eyes as she gulped uneasily at the lieutenant's incipient aberrancy; it became apparent to her that she'd done it this time. Thomas advanced menacingly toward her a few steps, adding more to the transporter's sheer disconcertment._

"_You running after her and ogling at her without her knowing makes me sick," said Moonbay, almost toppling over her words; her defense has been breached eventually, leaving her in the lurch. The younger Schubaltz, on the other hand, had no intention of harming her; he simply wanted to put his foot down, albeit harshly as intended for anyone who wouldn't listen to reason._

"_And you had to ask why she looked flustered," supplemented the lieutenant in a raised voice. "Where the hell do you get off this?"_

"_Why don't you just get a life, you wimp?" barked Moonbay much like a dog would as a last resort after being overpowered and trapped in a corner. "Stop looking at me like that!" She tried everything to offset the effect of Thomas' unnerving gaze._

"_Who's going to make me?" hollered Thomas. "I'm not going to change how I should think or act or feel to the way that suits you because you tell me to, so how sure are you that you'll be able to stop me from talking to Fiona?"_

"_You stop that or I'll…"_

"_Or you'll _what? _ Call on Irvine? Go right ahead! Be my guest! Let's see if he can make me do what you all want. He's been itching to have a go with me ever since… so now here's his chance. Love to see how that turns out. Go get him! I'll be waiting right here. Maybe then you'll understand how much you don't know what you're treading with here."_

"_Stop… s-stop it!" reacted Moonbay jitteringly, going almost as white as a sheet, heart pulsating wrathfully against her chest, and starting to feel lightheaded. She retreated a few more steps back. Thomas, however, didn't have to advance any further to the formerly portentous girl._

"_Save your irritating whines for someone who can still stomach them," the lieutenant snarled ferociously. "What is it with you and your attitude? What have I ever done to you? What the hell do you have against me? You do this to anyone who doesn't suit your self-styled golden gauge of coolness, or do you just fancy singling me out 'coz I'm the easiest target?"_

_Moonbay muted herself agonizingly in reflection of the unremitting attrition of her haughty deportment. Thomas wasn't the same doofus in her eyes any longer. He has morphed into a totally different person… and not in a soothing way._

"_Now's a good time to tell me what the hell your problem is," said Thomas unforgivingly._

_Moonbay remained voiceless, with legs finely trembling as she tried to recuperate her strength from the energy-sapping ordeal brought about all of a sudden by Thomas._

"_Why the silence?" Thomas continued to bellow sarcastically. "It's so not like you to pass up even the smallest chance of insulting me! Why aren't you saying anything now, huh?"_

_Now was Thomas' rare chance at a sweet revenge. He was dead set at making anyone he thought originally to be friends to suffer atrociously, just as he endured the whole time._

"_I have absolutely no patience anymore to keep putting up with this!" the lieutenant went on vexedly as his questions came back unanswered. "If you don't have anything more valuable to say, get your so-called friendly words of advice and take them with you out of here! I don't want to be haunted by the memory of ever receiving them from you!"_

_Moonbay's horrified silence lingered. Her misty eyes were absolutely blank and void of emotion… in an absolute state of shock she just couldn't wake out of. But she can hear and understand Thomas loud and clear._

"_What are you waiting for?" yelled Thomas. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! UNLESS YOU'LL BE COMING BACK ALONG WITH IRVINE FOR HIM TO CHALLENGE ME TO A SHOWDOWN, DON'T YOU EVER SHOW YOUR FACE TO ME UNTIL YOU'VE GOT ANYTHING CULTURED TO SAY!"_

_Moonbay was roughly shaken out of her trance by Thomas' roar. Still pale from the consternation caused by the younger Schubaltz startling air, she quickly gathered her fallen-apart self and scampered out of the hangar without another word._

_The next thing Thomas knew was his chest heavily heaving breaths. His hands were trembling from baffling emotions, undecided whether to cry to a precious loss that can never again be retrieved for eternity, or shout in fear of what other things he might be capable of doing. He closed his eyes and counted slowly to buffer off any snag that'd steal away any needed distraction. As the fury placated, the lieutenant felt like being shaken out of pensiveness as well. He asked himself silently what he was doing a few steps away from his laptop left beside the DiBison. Then he quickly remembered… his rage had been set free. Moonbay was the unlucky one to have received its full brunt for tenaciously playing a part in its unleashing._

_But there were no feelings of remorse unsettling the blonde lieutenant._

"_That was brutal of you, Thomas," bleeped Beek._

"_She was asking for it," answered Thomas wearily._

_He was expecting Irvine to come any minute. But he didn't care one bit. He wasn't scared of him. On the contrary, he was ready for him or for any contingency for that matter. Others constantly seemed to fail to realize that he, too, is just like anyone else who has a tolerance threshold… and for that, Moonbay – who never stopped to read the signs – had caught him at a bad time._

BEEP-BEEP then sounded the lieutenant's timepiece in a loud buzz. It had a pitch distinct from Beek's bleeps with which he was used to, and that was sufficient to wake him up from his flashback. He realized he had been walking for almost an hour through the nearly-subzero Axides climate. The wind was gushing stronger now. Were the conditions any harsher, then that would've put him squarely between a rock and a hard place. He rechecked his position; he was roughly five kilometers away from his destination. He rechecked the sentry report; no one has noticed his absence yet. Everything was working to his advantage so far.

As much as Thomas abhorred even the thought of it, he took a swig from a canister containing an alcoholic beverage. He wasn't used to this kind of climate, and he'd unreservedly welcome any means to keep his body warm, even if it implied giving in to a shot or two of the potentially hepatotoxic cocktail. He took just enough to make him feel flushed all over. He didn't want to drift off and get lost entirely into another one of his reveries again.

And as predicted, the lieutenant's mind invoked another flashback to keep itself entertained while sleep wasn't listed on the menu yet.

_He remembered spending over an hour in the hangar to get his new program software up. Irvine didn't show himself, though… much to the lieutenant's astonishment. He could only presume that this frightening aura of his managed to gain an extension that vesseled through Moonbay, which scared the ex-mercenary off as well. He guessed he'll never know the answer tonight; summoning that other side of him again under the guise of an experiment methodology to find out that particular piece of information might not be a bad idea after all. Besides, he could no longer recall the last time he conducted any form of research._

_But summoning lightheartedness, on the other hand, after what happened was beleaguered by the despair that had established its strong predominance._

_Finally, the DiBison's software upgrade was complete. There was no further cause to keep himself in the hangar. But for no apparent reason, he stayed behind for another half hour. His mind had become a virtual tabula rasa. He had not stayed behind stock-still to reflect on things. He just didn't know now what to do…_

_Until it dawned upon him…_

_He quickly got up, returned the wires systematically back into the DiBison, collected his laptop, and marched hastily out of the hangar without another moment to lose. Ignoring any detour, he went straight to the base dormitories._

"_Romy! It's me, Thomas. Open up!" he called out._

"_Hey, Thomas… wazzup?" asked Romy, as he opened the door to his quarters in response to the blonde lieutenant's knocking. The other lieutenant appeared clad in rugged attire that may as well be his sleeping clothes, with a guitar under his right arm._

_Thomas immediately advanced into the room without waiting for Romy to invite him in. "Lock the door," he said._

"_What's the matter, Thomas?" asked Romy concernedly. "Is something wrong?"_

"_Everything's clear," answered Thomas plainly. "Everything's never been clearer…" The suggestively incoherent response wasn't the one Romy had in mind that Thomas would typically give._

"_Alright, bro, you're creeping me out," rejoined Romy as he placed his guitar down on his bed. "I think you'd better take a seat. I want to know what's up with you."_

_Thomas obeyed; he pulled out the nearest chair he could grab while Romy parked himself on his bed._

"_I'm not going to beat around the bush," said Thomas. "I'm going to Axides tonight to get some of the stuff we'll need. I need you to stand-in for me, and keep me posted of happenings while I'm gone."_

"_Say what?" asked Romy bewilderedly._

"_I said I'm going to Axides tonight…" said Thomas impatiently._

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa… rewind! Axides? Tonight?" voiced out Romy, emphasizing every word in his own attempt to elucidate Thomas' impulse._

"_That's right. Do I still need to repeat myself?" Thomas said irritatedly._

"_Are you_ crazy?"

"_Like I said, everything's never been clearer…"_

"_Hang on, Thomas… slow down," said Romy as he tried to mellow down Thomas' restlessness into sense. "Something's definitely wrong with this picture. It's all so sudden. Any way we can talk about it first?"_

_Thomas looked away momentarily with a manifested disgust that was just too vivid to hide. Without a doubt he was trying to avoid his co-lieutenant's question._

"_Silence is not an answer, Thomas," probed Romy, staring intently at the younger Schubaltz._

"_Lay off it, Romy!" Thomas raised his voice all of a sudden. "What I'm feeling is not the reason why I'm here. Whether I talk to you about it or not is _my _choice, just as yours is with talking about what happened between you and Garth, or with whatever the hell he has on you! You don't want to talk to us about your story… that's fine. But don't go forcing others to tell theirs! You said so yourself you'd want to see this through so all of us can move on. I'm doing my part, am I?"_

_Romy was stunned speechless at Thomas' outburst. He never expected his helping hand to be bitten like that. He unobtrusively bit his lower lip as he uncomfortably looked away and tapped lightly on his guitar strings._

_Thomas absolutely felt rotten at the sight. "I-I'm sorry, Romy," he apologized. "I didn't mean to lash out at you like that. But please try to understand… I'll tell you when I'm ready. I'll tell you… and Annie… and Gisela… and Sebastian… all of you, in due time. Just leave my thoughts to myself for now, and trust me on this. I don't want any of you to worry yourselves more over matters such as this. Believe me, there is no better time for me than tonight."_

_Romy good-naturedly understood. "What is it you want me to do?" he asked calmly._

"_Remember when you scared the crap out of me and Annie back in Documentations where you imitated Major Herman's voice?" asked Thomas leadingly. Romy smirked leisurely at the memory in response._

"_Can you imitate mine as well, or at least make your voice sound like mine over the communicator?" came another question from Thomas._

"_Are you kidding me? It's my hobby!" said Romy animatedly. "I do that a lot when I'm bored, and that happens only when I'm in Documentations. Remember the time when Annie first arrived in the department and she gave you her empty toothpaste tubes? You had absolutely no idea why she'd give them to you since you never asked for it, but she kept insisting that it was you who asked her over the phone to give them to you since she thought you collected stuff like that. That was me all along, hehe."_

_Thomas recalled the occasion and clearly understood the pun intended, but understandably only had that much drive to produce an ephemeral chuckle, given what he had just been through. But nonetheless he was thankful that one of his problems was solved. "Now I know," he said. "Crafty and crazy… just like you. She must've thought I was the weirdest person alive."_

"_Hehe, yeah," said Romy. "She didn't know at first that we didn't give a rat's ass about seniority, so naturally she complied."_

"_There's another thing," resumed Thomas. "I need you and Annie to keep this thing going while I'm gone, and to make sure it keeps going until I get back. It'll project an image of my DiBison." He then handed Romy Sebastian's hologram-inducer. "Mechanical engineering casts a wide scope. I'm pretty sure optics is included in it as well, so maintaining this thing wouldn't be much of a trouble… I hope."_

_Romy gingerly removed the black metallic casing using a miniature screwdriver he harvested from one of his drawers, and carefully examined the gadgetry within. His upper lip crinkled and said "It's true that mechanical engineering umbrellas a lot of subsets, but it's not always necessarily true with optics unless…"_

_Thomas, having completely forgotten about it, quickly handed Sebastian's threadbare notebook over to his co-lieutenant. "Here. I think this'll be of help," he said._

_Romy then browsed through the dog-eared pages of the notebook. Arriving towards the end after a few minutes of skimming, he slowly nodded and said "Now we're going somewhere."_

_After hearing more good news that added further to his relief, Thomas then entrusted his laptop to Romy, and taught him how to use his Beek program on his hard drive so he can be able to convey information to him via his earpiece Beek while being stuck all the way up north in Ladratos._

"We're here," bleeped Beek expectedly into Thomas' ear just in time for recollections to be wrapped up. Standing on the fringe taking at quasi-worm's-eye-view of the hinterland that is Axides, his heart sank at the first actual impression that it left instantaneously. It appeared like a being in the aftermath of a recent inundation. No lighting was apposite on even the major paths; what appeared to be blurry shimmers were limited only to points the lieutenant reckoned to be windows of residences whose wretched standards are but acceptable in design for the setting that he's in. The fog only made matters worse to those unequipped with his self-fabricated machinery. Of course, he wasn't hoping to see much from a place endlessly assaulted by frostiness, but he didn't expect it to be much more desolate that what he blindly pictured it to be. It may have rendered a different effect, however, if he was spared the hustle and bustle of the 'notorietous' state of affairs.

He alternately shook and rubbed his hands stringently at the loss of sensation from the cold after he lighted the torch built in his headgear. Feeling like he wasn't holding anything in his hands from the numbness, he clumsily unfolded the downloaded map (for which his head light was turned on) that he painstakingly printed and pasted together. The size of it couldn't be deposited into the portable AI's memory in one setting, so he settled for making do with the low-tech version.

'If this isn't the 'school of hard knocks' Rob Herman was ranting about, then I don't know what is,' he bleatingly thought.

He then followed the shortest course to a highlighted icon on the map – the nearest inn from where his was unwantingly freezing himself over. To his calculations, it would be another twenty to thirty minutes to reach there. He summoned the last few saps of strength and gumption he never knew he had to escape this meteorological rout en route to a warm bunk he can drop himself onto. That was enough to bring out another chapter of his mind's memoir to keep him rousing.

"_You're sure about this, Thomas?" murmured Annie worriedly to the younger Schubaltz as he made last-minute checks on his gear to see if he had left anything out. The both of them and Romy were waiting furtively in a dark corner for the hangar sentries to switch. It is a routine drill that took roughly five to ten minutes; it was a slim window of opportunity for the trio to operate their last-ditch plan. The Red River Base's administration made it a point to time these substitutions sporadically to hypothetically throw off any intruder – potentially harmful or otherwise – from their momentum. But whatever the policy was, it wasn't changing the fact that all three of them were definitely starting to develop cramps from crouching too long under the cover of darkness._

"_I'm sure," was Thomas' languorous answer to Annie's question._

_Annie felt she had nothing left to say that'd derive even an inkling of convincement of the blonde lieutenant to ditch whatever insinuatingly masochistic strategy he was cooking up. She chose to speak no further, being unable to think of anything else more persuading to verbalize. Romy, however, took the dropped initiative to speak on her behalf._

"_This is your last chance, Thomas," he said. "You seem confident that this plan is infallible. But there are always pitfalls even with the most delicately planned tactics… meaning there's still a possibility that this hologram device may malfunction in a way that only Sebastian can fix. So just stop and think for a while before doing all this. Think… what if you get caught and we can't conjure up an explanation to cover things up?"_

"_I already did my portion of thinking, believe me… and I don't care," said Thomas nihilistically. "I've no regrets on my part. I've got nothing more to lose now anyway."_

_Annie grew infuriated in hearing that. "Damn it, Thomas, what do you mean by that?" said the cadet private angrily (but keeping her voice down all the same). "Please, don't keep holding us at arm's length…"_

"_It's nothing about that," interrupted Thomas gently. "I'll be alright, I promise."_

"_But…"_

"_Tell me, when was the last time I broke a promise to any of you guys?"_

_Again, Annie was hushed at a loss for words upon seeing Thomas' eerily decisive look. Just then, Romy noticed the sentries falling out from their posts. He looked at his watch; it was five minutes before midnight. "They're off," he said._

_As soon as the sentries were out of sight, Romy scurried to the hangar's wide exit and pressed a red illuminated button jutting out on the adjacent wall to open the wide alloy shutters. As metal gnashed drearily against metal while the shutters lifted themselves up slowly, all three ran light-footedly as fast as they could to a relatively less darker spot some feet away from the awaiting DiBison._

"_That's the fastest I can get the shutters to open without making much sound that'd alert anyone," explained Romy. "Don't worry about any alarms, though. I cut a few wires beforehand; I just splice them back, and no one is the smartest."_

"_It's clear now that nothing's going to stop you," said Annie apprehensively, though much mellowed down now compared to a while back. "But they're bound to notice you not showing up at work at some point over the next few days. Are you sure they're going to buy this excuse you made up for me to tell the higher-ups? I mean, you've made frequent visits to the hospital wing before, so probably another might be asking too much."_

"_Again, thanks for reminding me of things I'd rather forget," pouted Thomas in a purposefully silly voice as a way that'd supposedly lightening up the tense moment. "The hospital wing avoids the flu like the plague, so they're not going to complain at all if I 'quarantine' myself in my room. And if that isn't believable enough for them, here's a medical letter with my signature on it that you can present to our superiors and the hospital staff. You've my permission to forge it accordingly."_

"_Just come back safe to us," said Annie sighing surrenderingly after accepting Thomas' phony excuse letter._

"_I second that," added Romy. "Besides, we've got more places to explore where I can bring you and Sebastian to… y'know."_

_Annie threw a knee-jerk disapproving frown at Romy's remark._

"_What's with the look?" the brown-haired lieutenant protested. "I meant decent places where I can pair the two of them up with decent women…"_

"_Why can't you stop kidding even at a time like this?" muttered Annie antagonistically._

"_Anyway," continued Romy, beckoning an optimistic mood. "Speaking candidly, I'm every bit certain I made myself clear previously that I'm not going to let you hog up all the action. I want a piece of it too, but I guess I can do a lot more by staying here and keeping an eye on things. Besides, it's your personal mission in the first place. So I'm letting this one go for now."_

_Thomas' lips curled up into a brief smile, nodded a 'thank you' for both of them, turned his back and went straight to his DiBison._

"_Sometimes I really don't understand guys," Annie said to Romy as both of them watched Thomas climbing into the DiBison's cockpit. "Why do you have to go through such great lengths? And for what?"_

"_I'm sure he's got his reasons," said Romy. "And his mind's definitely made up."_

_The DiBison's motor then gave off a temperate rumble as its engine started up. As it advanced progressively towards the hangar exit, Thomas looked back from the top and waved his goodbye to the other two on the ground (who waved back as well) before slamming the canopy shut. Both Romy and Annie followed the gigantic zoid alongside as it passed surely through the egress. Afterwards, Romy again pushed the same red illuminated button, bringing the heavy shutters back down to how they originally were._

"_Go find yourself again, Thomas," said Romy as he watched the DiBison disappear into the horizon. Annie turned her head to Romy with an astounded expression on hearing that. It was only then when it hit her… and she felt she was beginning to understand that person who had taken off unexpectedly into the night._

At last, Thomas reached his objective for the time being. There he stood vacuously before a wide, sturdy two-storied concrete structure that looked more like a dome and only had a door and an array of small boiler exhausts as its only apertures. He knew beforehand that Axides was the mining region of the continent… not much of a tourist attraction to make establishments spend extra on useless ornamentation.

The lieutenant then pulled firmly on a string hanging from a ledge over the only door of the building… at least on the front side of it. After a few moments, the solitary access was opened by a tall, beady-eyed and heavily-built man appearing in his late forties. Thomas gulped as he slowly lifted his gawk to examine how far up the guy's massive frame reached.

The gigantic man's outwardly gruff stare, comparable to a surveillance camera lens glassily focusing, looked back at Thomas. Seeing that the newcomer was carrying a backpack almost half his size, the colossus stepped aside to clear the way and indolently said to him in a deep voice "Come on in."

It was obvious from his get-up that Thomas is a traveler, and his arrival at the inn would be serving no purpose other than seeking refuge from the biting cold. Having barely more than a taste for the worst weather that Axides has in store, Thomas had to conform to the thriftily-worded invitation. After all, it was his shotgun decision to leave the base giving only such a short notice to his very few trusted comrades, and in the context of a random change at that.

The anxiety dampened down, however, the moment he stepped inside. It may have been a narrow hallway with a couple of doors feeding onto other different rooms, but the cold cement ground Thomas previously stood on before entering was immediately replaced by an overlayer of polished light-colored wooden flooring. The temperature had changed abruptly likewise into a cozy warmth that he straight away began to sweat a little under his multi-tiered woolen insulation. His hands haven't thawed out yet though from staying too long in the wind, so he decided to keep his coat on in the meantime.

The place was also well-lighted, compared to the fog-cloaked outdoors, that it enhanced the somewhat aesthetic plain-cream shades of the plastered walls. 'Not bad interior design… for an arrangement looking almost like that of the last mile of a prison,' Thomas thought.

"Check-in's down the hall," said the burly guy sparingly afterwards. True enough, as Thomas converged his sight towards the end of the antechamber, he spotted a counter with a big master logbook spread open on it, complete with a key-rack hanging beside it on the adjacent wall. There wasn't anyone sitting behind the desk, however. He turned back to call the attention of the beefy man from earlier, only to find him close one of the other doors leading out of the hallway shut after entering it. He smelled something inviting, though, being blown his way when the brawny man swung the door close. He figured that the neighboring room might probably be the inn's kitchen, and the burly man the establishment's cook.

'No worries about food getting spoiled quickly in a cold place like this,' the lieutenant thought again. His stomach grumbled as his olfactory senses guzzled down the alluring aroma. He just remembered that it has been ages since his last decent meal.

The sooner he checked in, the sooner he might be able to help himself to some grub… or so that's what he thought. He still has to find the receptionist organizing the place. Trying not to be a glib, he knocked on the desk to call the attention of anyone nearby.

"What the hell do you want, Periggo?" came a stern male voice with a strong northern accent calling somewhere from beneath the counter's opposite edge. Bending over the desk, Thomas saw someone reclining on the floor, snuggled underneath the covers of a quilted futon.

"Comfy place you've got here," said Thomas to him, picking a complement for the centralized heating system tempered just right as an opening line.

"Oh… I thought it was that lunkhead Periggo again," came the response that was comparably as gruff as the earlier greeter's welcoming stare. His looks were that of a wrinkled old man in his seventies, luckily still with a full set of hair on his head (though white and tousled about in a disorderly display); his stature didn't appear to be far from half Thomas' height. He stood himself up carefully, holding on to any stable support he could grasp onto within his reach, while cursing creakily from joint pains. The lieutenant extended out a free arm to help him, only to be shooed away by the decrepit grump, who seemed to have a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of his rheumatism.

"Let me guess… you need a room," said the old man non-obligingly as he straightened himself up. Before Thomas could answer, the old man tossed to him a key that he took out from the rack and said "You're in room four, to your left."

Inviting as the place relatively has been so far, the hosts weren't that much accommodating attitude-wise to the lieutenant's observation. He quickly overlooked the cantankerous reception on account of the nagging hunger pangs in his stomach. Though tired and starving, he still had the presence of mind to remember that he is undercover from that point onwards.

"Excuse me, but have you got anything to eat around here?" asked Thomas deferentially.

"That first door from where you came in… that's where the kitchen is," the old man answered crabbily shortly after breathing in a yawn. "Don't let me stop you from helping yourself to whatever's left… if you're lucky to even get any."

Thomas peered back at the old man quizzically; it wasn't the usual rah-rah response anyone would get from a trained receptionist. "O-kaaay… thanks for your help," the younger Schubaltz said in a slow uncertain pace before starting on his way.

Just when the lieutenant had turned around to search for his room, his attention was re-sequestered by the old man as he croaked again in a husky voice that seemed to be his usual. "You're new here, I can tell. Moving about so gentle and naïve… pah, it sickens me. So what are you? A college student with a verve for philanthropy, coming all this way to make a survey to experience the struggle of the proletariat? People here may take on any disgusting job imaginable to squeeze water out of a rock, but we ain't stupid to be just studied like a bunch of lab rats."

"You're fairly hasty to make a conclusion there," Thomas struck back calmly at the allegation. He was starting to think of the relic as Dr. Koebner's complete opposite.

The old man sneered a comeback at Thomas. "So what are you then? Hah!… Don't tell me you're gonna work in the mines. A scrawny pup like you won't last the week in one."

Thomas didn't have that kind of time to waste on someone with whom he has no bone to pick with. "I'm just someone who thought of trying out his luck here in Axides. Think whatever you want with that."

"Heh, good luck with _that_," said the old man sarcastically, half-laughing. "You're a long way off from anywhere promising, boy."

"Yeah, whatever," muttered Thomas inaudibly under his breath as he walked away from the counter and into the aisle leading to his room. He had to agree that he had indeed come a long way, but not for everything to mean nothing now.

"By the way, this is just a halfway stopover for newbies like you, and the turnover's fast… so you'd better be out by the end of the week," called out the old man afterwards from his desk (in continuation of his previous quip) to Thomas who was already at the far end of the aisle… though the lieutenant wasn't really hearing anything much from the exhaustion.

Vegetable soup and milk were all that was left, but both were warmed up nicely, nonetheless. That was good enough for him. It has become far too tasty a treat to pass up in the situation he was in. Periggo may have struck him as a gentle giant, but he preferred bringing the leftover potage in his own makeshift room rather than slurping it in the kitchen with a pair of beady eyes ogling from a corner keeping him company.

In a matter of minutes, he finished up what remained on the galley's menu then buried himself in bed. No other soporific compares to a nice mug of warm milk. Though tremendously saddened from love and fate's pooled ruthlessness, he hadn't any force left to at least shed tears for his release.

"I've got nothing to lose now…" were the last words he mouthed silently before falling into a deep slumber.

Whew, that was a long chapter! Chapter XIV coming soon.


	14. Chapter XIV

_Whoa! It didn't know it has already been four months since my last entry. Time flies so fast, doesn't it? I promised more action in this chapter… and so here it is, though not involving zoid battles for the moment. Save the best for last!_

_I'm happy, though, that there are more Thomas fans than I thought there were. It's nice to see some new fics about him coming out giving him the depth he very much deserves._

_My thanks I extend to those who shared their insights and constructive criticisms through review, and of course to the Early Cherubim to whom I credit 'Conundrum.'_

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER XIV**

"It's a nice evening, isn't it, Miss Fiona?" greeted Thomas chivalrously when he saw standing on the balcony someone who has always been for him the most beautiful woman in Planet Zi. The gentle breeze of the warm summer air that blew had wafted the silk dress she was wearing in sparkly artistic waves. With the delicate radiance of the full moon in that cloudless night, the elegant silhouette of the younger Schubaltz's tireless inspiration has completed its accentuation.

He could hear the chamber mantra of a string quartet singing in the background. Though the tantalizing blend of classical acoustics and the burning lights from the chandeliers inside the hall endeavored to heighten their domination, they have been quickly ignored in sweet abandon in favor of the moonlight, as far as Thomas was concerned. It was everybody's time to celebrate – every single member of staff of the joint Imperial and Republican governments – for the zoids parts smugglers… every last one of them… have at long last been brought to justice. So now for sure, the war is truly over. Though it had been his long-overdue dream as well, Thomas was glad to leave it to the rest to celebrate that for him. With Fiona right in front of him in all her beauty, how could he ask for more?

Fiona, however, kept looking out over the edge of the lanai, as if earnestly anticipating a different kind of arrival. Thomas couldn't see it with the light from where he was standing, albeit beautiful the effect it had given that evening, but the ancient Zoidian's expression painted that of worry… worry of being attacked or violated… not in a good way when pairing with the striking silk dress she was clad in.

"I'm sorry for not being exactly in the right clothes for the occasion… but at least dressed in this, I'm hoping not to stir up much of a grandstanding," tittered Thomas in an awkward joke, referring to (or more like deriding) his stereotyped lieutenant's uniform with colors faded from repeated washing in army-issued detergent. "I kind of got wind of this event on very short notice, so I didn't have time to prepare," continued the blonde lieutenant in clarification, hopefully trying to abate the dress-code gaffe with his excuse.

Fiona however remained quiet, still staring out into the open, appearing not to hear a single word from Thomas. Thinking that maybe he wasn't near enough for her to hear him speak, the younger Schubaltz took a few steps closer toward his love interest. He felt happy just being able to do that alone without any hesitation or trepidation on his part. The only other thing he had to worry about then is more inappropriate distractions that purposefully choose to appear during such events.

With every step he took approaching Fiona, he gradually saw that expression of worry on her face becoming clearer and clearer… and that in itself, as was always the case in the past, made the younger Schubaltz concerned as well. Though he may have formerly segued across the veranda, the lieutenant's bliss started to fritter away as he perceived the vision of the ancient Zoidian floating further and further away from him. As his originally calm gait picked up its pace in beleaguered speed, the harder it became for him to reach her. As his mind commanded his walk to shoot up to a frank dash, his legs strangely began feeling heavier, eventually deteriorating into an unexpected manner where his feet seemed to be futilely dislodging ungodly slabs of rock underneath them.

Thomas then desperately called out, arms reaching out: "M-Miss Fiona… what's happening? Why are you so far away?"

Finally, Fiona showed her face as she looked towards him. Clearly in the moonlight, the fear in her eyes burned intensely as she winced away from what was supposed to be Thomas stretching out for help. She didn't even dare to extend a hand out to aid him.

Feeling that the ground was starting to devour him, the lieutenant wailed like a wounded animal sending out a distress call. The decorative sounds of violins previously in the air have now been drowned by his injured howls. "Miss Fiona, what is happening? Why won't you help me? It's still me… Thomas. I'm not going to hurt you!" But amidst that, even his own words he could no longer comprehend, just as he couldn't understand what was happening to him. The more it made Fiona wince away in revulsion.

Now it all became clear: the worry on her face… she was trying to get away from Thomas. Every bit of horror she expressed has been proportioned to the exclusive debauchery and perverseness she inadvertently perceived from the younger Schubaltz… and from which she was frantically trying to escape from.

"I'm not giving up, Miss Fiona!" continued Thomas' baying as he struggled to break free from whatever was holding him back. Just then, he realized he could no longer feel the presence of his legs. Looking down, he found himself half-buried grotesquely into the concrete. He instinctively started digging himself out of the ground's ravenous jaws that went on swallowing him whole. Fingernails screeched and scratched against stone until the stain of blood painted the blocks a raw crimsoned red as he tried to clear the rubble with his bear hands.

Another half-unexpected vision suddenly appeared before him. It was the specter of Van landing beside Fiona, with dazzling flames surrounding him like phoenix's wings. It was him that she has been waiting for all along. She clasped herself in passionate embrace to that one paramour who stood sturdily at her side, while leaving Thomas relentlessly calling out with a hoarse voice that couldn't resound anything more beyond sibilant noises.

"I love you, Miss Fiona… I won't do anything to hurt you," repeatedly whispered Thomas in his weary state, whilst obstinately digging himself out of the pit he was in. He had nothing else left to say that made more absolute sense than that.

"All is fair in love and war, Thomas," stated Van simply. With Fiona safe under his arm, his eyes began glowing in a threateningly ember hue. That made the flames around him grow higher and higher, ready at any time to come pouring down on the younger Schubaltz.

"Fiona is not a prize to win!" contested Thomas with every last bit of strength he had left before being devoured entirely in flames. He knew his voice was now so badly strained from screaming that he couldn't engender something stronger than a squeak… but he swore internally that he wouldn't allow every chance, even down to the last moment, to tell what he had to tell… what he wanted to tell.

But everything may have been too late now. The inferno summoned by Van came plummeting down on the younger Schubaltz, enveloping him in an unimaginably stinging blaze.

Then came a blinding flash of light…

Thomas quickly rose up from his bed covered in cold sweat, gasping heavily for breath. That flash of light… the last thing he could remember before exiting the nightmare… it was only but a balmy beam of sunshine hitting his face.

The lieutenant seated himself up on the edge of his bed, chest still heaving like mad from the bad dream, as he tried to shake himself awake. He used the patched sheets of the covers to wipe away his sweat, but even that didn't help to alleviate the feeling of being nauseated. For a moment there, he thought he was back at the Red River Base celebrating what he thought was the first-ever victory of his life. At that instance, he supposed that everything was back to how they were… that the ugly confrontations of before did not happen… that everything was back to normal (or at least back to his definition of normal). Unfortunately, he was very much mistaken. It was all but an evanescent memory… an utterly cheapened embarrassing memory.

"Even in my dreams, I lose," thought Thomas downheartedly at how even his own subconscious had turned on him by playing that particularly stomach-turning nightmare in his mind when it could have cooked up any other less disagreeable dream.

And to think that it featured Fiona as a trophy for some kind of competition…

Equally in fairness and in reality, Thomas was sure Van doesn't look at Fiona that way… but as for the rest… so far all other predictions in a lot of his seemingly clairvoyant dream have been true.

That distinct night in the zoids hangar was the roughest. Apart from being itself another harsh reminder of how solitary he really was in life, it brought the worst monster out of him… and a realization that he really didn't hold anything exceptionally special he could possibly share with someone else. As much as he wanted to be near her, now he undoubtedly gets the real picture of why Fiona kept pushing him away in a manner of speaking. More losses for him if he came around to really think about it. That night in the zoids hangar may not have just been any ordinary episode, but as far as the record books go, that has been the most striking for the lieutenant. It felt a lot like completing a heavily onerous task from which he won a bounty alike a sudden intuitive leap of understanding that finally gave him the discerning inhibition to learn a vital survival lesson… and that was to tell himself what he was too mortified to say:

"Forget her, Thomas. She doesn't care about you one bit."

The sun is up. It must be 8 o'clock in the morning local time, at the latest, but the horizon was a lot less fair than the one back down south. Thomas shook his head coarsely and slapped his cheeks one last time before washing his face in icy-cold northern-continent water. He came to Axides on a mission, and he has absolutely no time to get sidetracked or to stick around for leisure. He had to find Dagobert Mohl before he finds himself in deep trouble for leaving the Red River Base without permission. The bright side to it, though, was that he only had himself to worry about. Annie and the others won't have any part in the castigation should he get caught being involved in any 'suspicious activity,' as their military handbook would label it.

Putting back on the weighty layers of warmers he wore the night before was next on the task line-up naturally. Besides that, his worry was increasing that he didn't even notice the twinge of his hunger. He has absolutely no idea if his illicit absence has already been found out by someone back at the base, and he had no way of finding out on account of his monitor being stuck back where he left his DiBison. Despite the stir, it was not even coming close to being up to scratch as an effective diversion that's supposed to keep him from throwing up. Something looming to cloud his judgment was the last thing he wanted at the moment, and it was going to take a miracle to ward off one from jumping up from behind him to bite him in the ass.

Thomas marched out of the door ungraciously, expecting another hit-and-miss rant from the insufferable ramshackle receptionist of last night. He was confident enough to shrug them off collectively by calling to mind this morning's crammed rehearsal of it, but after seeing Periggo, the quiet beady-eyed galley giant, standing in place of the old man in his post instead, annoyance from the anticlimax prevailed accordingly. He was thankful for the change, though, for it meant not having to try thinking of new quick-hitting tacks when answering for now. As expected, an inexpressive grunt was all the response that escaped from of the giant's throat when the lieutenant greeted an obligatory 'good morning' before taking off.

And now having stepped outside back into the biting cold weather, the worry grew even worse when Thomas started to think about his DiBison left unaccompanied miles away from the city boundaries, with the stealth camouflage its only protection. He'd never live it down if something bad would happen to his only trusted friend. If it wasn't for the task at hand, he'd run back to his zoid anytime just to soothe his whims. But for now, he'll just have to have faith in the ingenuity of its fragile disguise.

He took out the map, and folded it into the smallest size possible to strategically keep it out of sight from everyone else without compromising the purpose of its use. He didn't want to publicize his outsider repute openly. Being at the most vulnerable, he just wants to make it to where he was supposed to get himself to and get out quickly before it happened to attract even the slightest bit of attention. An advantage of working solo, however, apart from having only one's self to be concerned about, is never being blamed as useless deadweight.

Thomas now had a better view of the surroundings as opposed to last night. Striding briskly across a couple of streets, with the skin-breaking air adding only to the prevailing cold, he started feeling something was amiss when he spotted a couple of tributary roads being existent only on the map. It can't be an error on Jon Copper's part. He knew how he and his posse worked, and the map is as accurate as it can get. Although Axides is a vast place, he knew for a fact from Vera that people living here aren't of the migratory type, so everyone belonging together in one locality practically knows each other like family members. Virtually cut off from the rest of the world, the lieutenant has no idea of the latest occurrences of the locale, and suspicions of intrusion might just arise if he wouldn't plan his moves carefully. Remembering Periggo from this morning at the reception, blood quickly drained from his face in unrest as he prayed that the old man be either sick or hibernating for the winter and not presently blowing his cover announcing to the rest of the community that an interloper is in town. The townspeople didn't seem to be that accommodating judging by the way he was received last night, and he has no idea how hostile the locals are towards foreigners. Although the eyes were the only body parts not covered by the multilayered outfits, as how everyone else in Axides clothed themselves, his emerald-green irises weren't making evasion any easier for the lieutenant.

Detour signs were scattered everywhere, and it was all getting pretty confusing. As was a natural assumption, Thomas supposed that a gale of devastating magnitude must have plowed through this part of the region, judging the way rubble came pouring into nearby alleys. In the midst of the entire morass and to the lieutenant's own surprise, he still managed to see one of the satellite-fed cameras that Van and Irvine installed, albeit a little bit out of place and almost toppled to the ground. But the manner in which it was secured looked like it would take a significant earth-moving force to put it in the way it is… and it's what seemed to have happened in this case, contradicting his earlier force-of-nature hypothesis. It was a wonder, though, how no one from the place noticed it until now.

Luckily, that part of the municipality was deserted for the time being, allowing him a freehand doodling of the electronic device. He checked the camera to run a diagnostic… after which he felt relieved to find it still fully functional. Discovering that his own crafts couldn't even stand the action of the elements after putting in his all to make them durable is another thing he simply couldn't live down.

Knowing the gadget like the back of his hand, he prodded a few spots on the circuit board to supposedly botch up the transmission temporarily while doing the rest of the fix-up. Though the broadcast was in black-and-white, the idea of someone in Axides mending up the camera when headquarters didn't send anyone out there is a move just as stupid as the other that can just be easily picked up by everyone back at home… a very grave mistake, indeed. He didn't have much with him, but he got all the makeshift tools he needed to secure the device back to its original position.

Finally, Thomas got the camera back up and running, and was now adding a few final touches on concealing it to blend the rest of the surroundings. Dusting off the earth on his gloves, he turned his head suddenly towards an unexpected sound of voices… hostile voices from a fair distance. No one was there in sight but he could hear running footsteps approaching…

Out of nowhere came a female voice that shouted "Get out of the way!"

Then, there was a loud thud…

"YEOW!" yelped Thomas.

And the next thing he knew, both he and the charging female were on the ground.

"Oooh, what hit me?" groaned Thomas, clasping his forehead, a little dizzy from the impact. Now the female voice sounded nearer and more distinct… comprising a moan of pain almost abutting to crying.

A few feet away sprawled a girl estimated to be in her twenties, inching to sit herself up on one side. With neck wrapped twice in a long scarf, and likewise clad in woolen garments presumably a layer less than the total Thomas was wearing, the younger Schubaltz could see her face almost as pale as his, with sky-blue eyes and fairly short brown tousled hair. She quickly nursed an ankle, wincing in pain.

Gaining back his bearings, Thomas got himself up on his feet and moved closer to the girl. "You're hurt," he said instinctively.

"Gee, you think?" the girl snapped derisively. But before anything else was said, other voices resounded at the verge of looming out of different street corners. They were male voices… angry male voices.

"Where is she? Where did that tramp run off to?"

The girl's eyes widened in panic as the sound of more pairs of footsteps came closing in. Forcing herself up in spite of the pain, she said to the lieutenant, "You'd better make tracks now."

"Look here, you're hurt," reasoned Thomas. "I think you'd better let me help you up there… Whoa!" That was when the girl pulled out a big combat knife, though she didn't point it at the younger Schubaltz.

"Are you a little short of brains there?" she shouted. "Get out of here while you still can, dammit!"

"What the hell's the matter?" asked Thomas, getting more apprehensive in trying to blanket the swift change of events under his comprehension. "Are you trying to get away from someone?"

"Yeah… us."

Thomas turned around to see where the gruff voice was coming from. Appearing before him were five men more or less the same built as his older brother Karl. One seeming to stand as the bellwether of the gang was carrying a long chain covered in dry grease, which he was swaying about, heavy enough to take anyone out with it with one swing against the head. The others were brandishing either bats or knives… appearing like bolstering lackeys looking for a fight, patently sent to do some damage control for whatever it was that the girl did. The lieutenant was just unfortunate to unserendipitously get caught right in the middle of it.

"Oh, hell!" was all Thomas could breathe out from flabbergast. It was fight or flight now. With the state the girl was in, it seemed there was no other alternative but to wreck havoc by coming to blows this time. Out of the blue, he thought of how much he needs Van's help right about now on hand-to-hand combat, as much as he hated to admit needing his help with anything to begin with. Gulping, he thought, alluding Dr. Koebner, 'Well, think of this as your very first courier job… without the help of your zoid. From here on out you'll just have to remember your military training, ol' buddy.'

"Looks like I stepped on a landmine here," said Thomas simply, trying to gather as much confidence in his words as he could.

"Boy, you're catching on quick," replied the girl sarcastically. "I bet you take a longer time than everyone else to grow smarter than you should…"

"Quiet, you!" barked the head thug at the girl. "You… who the hell are you?" he then asked Thomas, clearly growing impatient, muscles toning up, itching for a brawl.

Thomas slowly turned his head back at the interrogator in defiance and answered "I'm someone who doesn't get his kicks picking on helpless girls."

"Are you out of your mind?" exclaimed the girl in astonishment. "Do you want to die?"

"Hmm, dying?" Thomas recalled how all he had lived for was instantaneously snuffed out at that night in the zoids hangar. "Mm-hmm, dying. I wouldn't mind taking a shot at that…" he continued calmly. On saying that, he eerily felt more fearless than he ever could in his lifetime.

He looked back at the girl and said "Sorry, miss. I'm not too big on five-against-one matches. Besides, it's not my style to leave a damsel in distress high and dry." On hearing this, all the girl could do was roll her eyes upwards and exhale in disgust.

"Oh, spare me the chivalry bullshit," said the head thug in an insultingly mellifluous tone. "Say your sweet goodbyes already, so we can kill you. I ain't got all day…"

"I have no bone to pick with you," interrupted Thomas as he addressed the attackers. "I've had a very bad night last night, so if we could just go on our own little separate ways, no one gets hurt." Astonished, even the lieutenant couldn't believe the words he just said… the kind that only falls from his lips when the thrill of the frenzied rush is brought about by tight situations such as this.

"What's this?" uttered the bellwether guy, at the brink of laughing. "Acting the diplomatic tough guy now? Are you expecting us to drop it just like that?"

"I thought you wouldn't," said the lieutenant unforcefully. "By the looks of things, I don't think I'll be expecting us to do _any _form of civilized business here."

The gang leader felt slighted by Thomas' disregarded strike to his intellect; his eyes started twitching frantically as he got more and more irritable. Feeling that the exchange of blows will be occurring any time soon, on the other hand, Thomas started putting back his goggles on his face, and positioning Beek back over his left ear.

The head thug was however amused by Thomas' resultant appearance with the goggles and the Beek console stuck to his head. "Hey, check this out," he guffawed boisterously to his lackeys, as if finally finding an opportunity to strike a quick comeback to save face. "This bastard's a real comedian."

Shifting his gaze back at Thomas, he added "Too bad you won't live too long for your next stand-up gig."

"Take your best shot, fool," challenged Thomas in an unfalteringly relaxed pitch. He activated his electronic goggles and said in an undertone "Alright, Beek… time to get down and dirty. Let's give this software a cut of the action and see if all those months' work has been worth it."

"Roger that," bleeped Beek.

"Waste him, boys," ordered the thug leader. In a matter of seconds, two of the other four lackeys came hurtling towards the lieutenant, one with a dagger in hand, and the other about to lunge a huge metallic beam at him.

Beek didn't waste any time. He instructed the younger Schubaltz with his bleeps to crouch down and ram his whole body against the legs of the metal beam-wielding assailant with full force, which he shortly followed accordingly. In doing so, it made the attacker trip and lose his footing while swinging his weapon in full force… and this made him accidentally hit the other attacker squarely in the face, instantly knocking the latter out cold.

"The program works! It actually works!" jubilated Thomas to himself. "Good job, Beek!" he called out loud afterwards… and that was him trying to contain his excitement.

"We're not out of the woods yet," bleeped Beek warningly. "That's only one down."

"You're right… w-what the… I'm against the wall here," cried Thomas upon discovering his position after smashing himself into the enemy, who then managed to recover from the momentary stunning. He acquired his anesthetized partner's jungle blade and was now bracing himself, with both hands on the hilt, to thrust it full within the lieutenant's way.

"Steady," cautioned Beek in anticipation.

"Aaaaarrgh!" bawled the assaulter as he made another swift and powerful lunge to stab Thomas in the torso.

"Shift your weight to the left… NOW!"

The blade merely missed Thomas' chest by a couple of inches, and it opportunely buried itself firmly into the stone wall, thanks to the strength of its handler.

"Were you aiming for the wall?" jeered the lieutenant. And before the unlucky minion could manage to free the blade, Thomas already landed a sharp blow to his mandible, knocking him unconscious.

"Goddamn!" Thomas winced groaningly as his hand seared in pain after delivering the punch. Pacifism by choice kept him from hitting people left and right, and clearly it was a long time since he had to do something barbaric to another fellow human being.

Unable to contain her amazement for the capability of the unexpected stranger, though, the girl had to give it a piece of her thoughts in words: "I got to hand it to you. Stupid as you may seem, your punch packs up a wallop! Amateurish, yes, but…"

"Whatever gets the job done," interrupted Thomas irately while quickly shaking the importunate pain off his hand. "And I'll just pretend for now that you meant that as a complement…"

"Watch out!" bleeped Beek frantically.

Before Beek's heads-up could so much as spark off a response from the lieutenant, a knife already sank into one of Thomas' shoulders, and the sharp pain directly made him forget about the soreness in his hand. With a stinging yelp, the lieutenant's vision got queasy, but he still managed to land a roundhouse kick on the third attacker's neck, military style.

"Two can play that game, you know?" said Thomas as he tried to keep himself together from succumbing to the blurring vision and queasiness. With the knife still buried in his shoulder, he somehow managed to grab hold of the metallic bat one of the thugs dropped previously. With ears still ringing furiously in reaction to the pain, he could still manage to make out of the bleeps of his AI:

"Make another wide swing to your right, 2 o'clock… NOW!"

The younger Schubaltz couldn't discern what happened while doing what Beek commanded on account of his condition, but the next thing he saw was the fourth lackey spread-eagled on the ground, out cold as well.

"What the f…," exclaimed the gang leader in surprise after seeing his whole party felled to the ground single-handedly by someone as lanky as the lieutenant. With somewhat of a bruised ego, he narrowed his eyes while watching Thomas beginning to show hints of wobbling on his legs, and said "I underestimated you, but I'm not going to make that same mistake twice." In saying so, he reached out for his side-pocket and pulled out a revolver.

"Not in this lifetime, pal," called out the girl without warning in reemergence as she hurled her combat knife at the last standing mugger, slashing clean across his gun-holding hand, thus forestalling his planned finishing move on Thomas.

The gang leader cursed vehemently at the flinching sensation of sharp metal slicing through flesh and tendons with precision, making him lose his grip on the revolver. Not noticing her closing in while he tried to retrieve the cold firearm on the ground, his unfortunate cheekbone shortly met the girl's foot in a charging kick… all happening before he could even get himself up after kneeling down to reach for the dropped weapon with his intact nondominant hand.

"Now we're on equal footing," said the girl afterwards with a satisfied grin on her face, albeit looking more like a grimace when taken together with her being sprawled back on the chilly concrete once more, thanks to her injury not further sustaining her weight. Checking on the head thug to confirm his finally knocked-out state, the girl again attempted to prop herself back up to standing, mostly to the effect of dealing with the agony of victory owing to the additionally sustained impairment to her already ill-treated ankle.

Though still wobbly at his stance, Thomas couldn't help but vocalize his observation: "I thought your foot hurts."

"It still does… a lot," answered the girl amidst hobbling back in annoyance to where the lieutenant stood. "But not as much as how it would feel had a bullet gone ripping through it."

"OK, glad to hear that…" were the last calm words a pale-faced Thomas said as his eyes rolled upward before losing consciousness himself.

"H-hey! You OK?" gasped the girl, aghast after seeing Thomas slumped on the ground along with the rest… suddenly realizing that he just got stabbed in the shoulder. She limped hurriedly to the lieutenant's aid, fearing that he might have lost a lot of blood from a pierced major artery, or that maybe the blade may have punctured a lung…

"C'mon now, don't you die on me," pleaded the girl nervously as she tried her best to shake the younger Schubaltz awake on her lap. There was no response, though she was hopeful to see the lieutenant still breathing. Panicky, she quickly yanked out the knife from his shoulder unthinkingly, vigilant for any gush of blood that may spring out of the area. Instinctively, she pulled back the thick hood covering most of Thomas' head, and began removing the long scarf that wrapped around his neck and lower face one time too many… all to keep his airway clear of any obstruction.

On clearing his face of any encumbering fabric, the girl suddenly paused what she was doing; due to some strange reason, she couldn't keep her eyes off Thomas' already fully-exposed face…

Shaking herself back to her senses, she started ridding the unconscious Thomas' stabbed shoulder of the heavy layers of wool to assess the wound… only to find he had wore on him a lot of sweaters that made a buffering shield too thick even for the blade to inflict as much as a full-layered penetrating pierce through his skin.

"T-this is it… this is actually it," whispered Thomas softly. "I can feel the cold embrace of the afterlife," he added, misinterpreting the chill brushing against his naked shoulder. "Goodbye, Miss Fiona… I pray you have a good life with Va…"

"Will you snap out of it?" yelled the girl, eyes and mouth wide with annoyance, while landing a clonk on the back of the younger Schubaltz's head. ("Yeow!" yelped Thomas for third time since meeting the feisty girl, consequently waking him up from his bemused state of dying.) "You've got a hell of a pain threshold there," she added scoldingly. "Damn it, you got me worried…"

"It's not everyday someone stabs me in the shoulder, so cut me some slack, will ya?" rejoined Thomas while putting his garments, scarf and hood back on.

"It's just a freakin' gash!" announced the girl exasperatedly in an 'oh-for-crying-out-loud' way. "Just bandage it up and it'll be healed in no time!" Annoyed as she may be, she still strangely felt relieved seeing warm mist rhythmically blowing out of Thomas' mouth.

At that moment, a shrill noise came tearing through the air… louder than how it would have sounded back south, where the climate was warmer. Stunned, both the girl and the lieutenant scanned every corner hurriedly to see where the strident sound may have been coming from. Like a set of chameleon's eye, Thomas' and the girl's wandering sights eventually focused on the gang leader relentlessly blowing on a whistle while still laying chest down on the ground. Before long, more weapon-brandishing ruffians came scurrying out from surrounding street corners… one helping the mayday-caller up in due course. Half of them were sneering grotesquely as the others spat while waywardly slapping the heavy metal pipes and bats they were wielding against their free hands… all gradually closing in on the seemingly cornered turncoat duo.

"Man! How many of these friends of yours have you pissed off, really?" queried Thomas, though trying to assuage the flustered situation with his unintentionally inherent comical mien that came along with the package.

"Try guessing about all of them," answered the girl guardedly while maintaining a vigilant gaze at the slowly approaching assailants.

In the meantime, Beek automatically continued assessing the unanticipated circumstances with the help of the mathematical program. Situated above the nearing louts appeared to be a heavy-looking metal scaffold presumably used as some sort of a skywalk that connected floors of neighboring buildings originally (a lot like a drawbridge that was lifted up and lowered down to link two points across a moat) before all structures were leveled to the ground. Thomas also noticed that the scaffold had a thick cable keeping it up in place; the cable ran inconspicuously across in parallel onto a pulley built into one of the supporting walls of the immediately adjacent ill-fated building, and from there, was coiled around a crank cemented onto the ground just right under the pulley. The whole set-up appeared to have been used previously for the purpose that the lieutenant had in mind.

Soon enough, Beek's instructing bleeps came pouring into the younger Schubaltz's ear: "Hurl your bat to that crank's handle. That thing's too rusted that any impact's supposed to disengage the lock… and it'll bring the whole structure down on them."

Just then, the other muggers that were earlier knocked out started coming to. Feeling the odds going more and more against them, Thomas swung the bat back hard to take aim… but since the cold had already numbed his hands' proprioception, the bat simply slipped through his careless grasp.

"Oh, crap," muttered the lieutenant helplessly.

"Of all the boneheaded…" blurted the girl in inapt exasperation. "What the hell was that about? You thought you needed a challenge?"

Soon, all the other members of the gang stood around their leader, all obviously back to their full senses. "I told you this bastard's a real comedian," added the boss with a malicious chuckle.

"Ehehe… looks like we've overstayed our welcome here," joked Thomas nervously, sweatdrops forming.

"You should be running at this point!" started the girl, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she took off, yanking Thomas by the arm along with her.

"You don't have to tell me twice," seconded Thomas as he doubled his speed, yanking along the girl in return.

Both ran as quickly as they could, with the girl guiding as to what alley to nip in hoping to shake the pursuers off their trail. They may have gotten a good head start in the chase, but the twinge of the girl's injury was beginning to slow them down. Though she was trying very hard to hide it, Thomas knew that there was only that much cumulative physical shock her poor ankle can take.

"Are they still on our tail?" asked the girl desperately… a little bit sounding like wondering how much longer she was going to last, considering she may have already ran a great distance to get away before bumping unexpectedly into the blonde lieutenant.

"Yup, and closing in…" answered Thomas frankly in between heaves of breaths, barely taking time to glimpse back and make a better estimate of how far off the chasers were from them. A sudden "Ulp!" churning out from his voice box then shortly followed an abrupt haul on his arm by the girl, on account of evidently falling back on the ground. Her sore ankle finally gave way.

The view of the approaching assailants, armed to the teeth and dangerous as murder, was stopping Thomas' breathing. His mind was racing like mad. He took everything back about wanting to take a stab at dying. He didn't want to die… not just yet, and in a very ignominious and stupid way at that. Nerve-wracked, and with a burst of adrenalin, he plopped the practically immobilized girl on his back, and scuttled like there was no tomorrow. "Just run away… run the hell away," he kept saying over and over while making that last mad dash to wherever his feet were supposed to take him.

The girl started talking amidst the tumult. "I don't know if we can make it out of this alive… but just so you know… for all it's worth… I think it's impressive… you making a solo performance on kicking their asses…" She sounded exhausted… running for dear life can make anyone sound like that. Maybe these attackers really meant to kill the poor girl, thought the younger Schubaltz. She rested her weary head on the shoulder of that unlikely redeemer who just happened to pass by… and yes, it's on the one supposedly stabbed earlier.

Though blushing despite the crisp atmosphere, Thomas ignored what was transpiring on him. Since he never felt that happening to him before, let alone get as close as that to a member of the opposite sex, could he be blamed if he defensively said "Great, now she's delirious"? Reflexively, he now changed his chant to "More running, less talking."

Just then, something made the girl prop her warm head back up from the shoulder it rested on, much to the blonde lieutenant's dismay. "Wait…" she alerted all of a sudden. "I don't think I remember going through these parts…"

"Yeah, well, I don't think we can afford to slow down at a time like this just to smell the flowers," said Thomas shortly, legs beginning to feel the pressure of carrying a total load twice his weight. "Just as long as there's a way out… oh, shit!" His feet screeched to a sliding stop just after making a sharp turn into an alley that appeared to be the only outflow where they were. "Just what we need right now!"

Situated right in front of them was a dead end; another crumbled building totally clogged the way.

"What's with all this rubble everywhere?" breathed Thomas exasperatedly.

Hopping off Thomas' back uneasily, the girl then asked "So what now, genius?" The sound of it amazed Thomas in a sudden turn, thinking for a second he may have actually connected with her while he was still running for dear life with her on his back. Though feeling like giving all quasi-complements back to the sender, he quickly discerned her trying to sound tough given their situation. She wasn't very good at acting it, however. After all, he didn't initially take her advice of following an alternative route.

Impatiently trying to play along, the lieutenant answered, "Hey, I'm making this up as I go. I'm all you have right now. So buck up and trust me on this one, alright? If you've got a better idea, please don't be shy and feel free to share it with me." He quickly scanned the surroundings for a potential way out in the meantime. All he could find, however, was another scaffold similar to earlier, and he was having a hard time conjuring up any possible usefulness from it… not with him and the girl standing between it and the nearing horde of cutthroats.

One by one, the aggressors appeared on the other end, each showing faint hints of catching their breaths. All convened into one bunch, sneering ominously at the two runaways as if sadistically savoring what could be the last moments of their prey before swooping down on them for the kill.

With an impending feeling of disaster, Thomas desperately pleaded "A little help here, Beek."

"System error" was all Beek's bleeps decoded into; its unpromising meaning made the younger Schubaltz's terrorized heart pound even more furiously in his chest. If it wasn't on account of the tense state of affairs they were in, he would extensively justify with a number of unremitting reasons in line why the program may seem like having still a few more bugs to straighten out.

"I don't know if we still have any more cards to play," muttered Thomas precariously, pulling gently on the girl's arm as he slowly shuffled his feet backwards, away from the assailants slowly inching in on them as well. He had to think of a plan fast.

"We can always let you go afterwards…" said the gang leader ominously. "Just as long as you leave your heads behind." He then gave out a maniacal laughter, as he devilishly licked the blood from the earlier inflicted wound on his hand… enough to make pious purists' hairs to stand on end. "You're gonna pay for what you did, tramp!"

Not looking at Thomas, the girl breathed in bleakly with fear, as much as she tried to hide it. Still keeping a stiff face, she squeezed the lieutenant's hand in disgust… seeming to wish she had a gun handy at the moment. Suddenly, something hard and cold nudged them lightly on their backs at the same time. They found themselves pushed back against the wall again.

"Looks like the end of the line for you here," snarled one of the lackeys in a demented joke. Half of his face appeared blue and swollen… apparently he was one who had a bat smashed against it in the previous round. But instead of feeling like wanting to die from extreme fear, a recrudescent spark shot out from Thomas' eyes as the same cogs in his brain started to turn again upon hearing the word 'line.' He quickly scanned the overlying scaffold and followed his eyes along the thick cable that supported it towards another rusted pulley screwed tightly to the concrete ground.

"Is it?" said Thomas defiantly in response, hoping to buy some more time for them. Drifting sideways slowly, he inconspicuously tugged at the girl's arm, signaling her nonverbally to move along with him towards the pulley, careful at the same time not to make any sudden movements that may trigger any undesirable response from the side of the attackers.

"You asked for a whole mess of trouble when you meddled in our affairs," said the head honcho intimidatingly. Not taking any chances, he called two more of his men to back him up as all three of them neared in and circled around Thomas and the girl like a trio of vultures. The rest of the cutthroats watched on hideously. "This wild chase ends now," he added afterwards.

"Seems like you've got a lot to hide," riposted Thomas slyly, trying not to show his desperateness in preempting their demise. Nearing the pulley, he whispered to the girl (who clutched onto his arm firmly to keep herself upright), "When I say 'go', make for the cable and hold on to it tightly…"

"In the mood for a plan now?" whispered back the girl amidst the tension.

"Just do what I say if you want to live long enough to start looking for a nursing home!" snapped Thomas softly in an end-all retort. The girl was taken aback at that unexpected display of assertiveness.

"That foot of your looks painful," observed the head gangster with a hue of ridicule. "Let me do you a favor by ending your misery," he shortly affixed to his previous phrase before swiftly drawing his pistol again.

"GO!" shouted Thomas as he brusquely pushed the girl towards the taut cable. A loud shot cracked into the cold air, deafeningly echoing against the tall walls of the untimely cul-de-sac everyone was in. Owing to the rapid careless aim of the gang bellwether, the bullet merely grazed the girl's woolen clothes before ricocheting away. She shortly found herself on the foot of the pulley into which the cable curled around compactly. Doing as she was told, she shortly understood what the lieutenant wanted to happen.

Just then, more shots were fired. Slugs either dug into or rebounded from the surrounding walls. Dust flew everywhere as Thomas slid at his swiftest onto the ground to dodge the flying bullets; along with the dust from the walls as they were sculpted by metallic projectiles, it providentially covered his escape. In seconds, he joined the girl, whom he abruptly slumped on his back again, at the very spot where the pulley sat stilly.

Climbing along and grasping the soot-covered cable after telling the girl to hold on tightly on his back, the lieutenant kicked the corroded crank with all the strength his leg could muster. Immediately after releasing the lock upon the delivery of force, both Thomas and the girl on his back were rocketed up to the upper floors of the adjacent dilapidated building, just as their counterweight that was the massive scaffold simultaneously plummeted unto the ground.

"I'm not going to hang around for round two with the likes of you," Thomas yelled back victoriously at the failed assailants that were left down below. No one dared to grab hold of the cable being released by the unfastened pulley lest they get crushed underneath the plunging catwalk. In the middle of the flurry, the younger Schubaltz could see the gang leader hurl his gun, magazine presumably empty, swearing incomprehensibly with the utmost frustration.

The triumphant celebration playing in the lieutenant's mind was cut short, however. His thoughts were shook unexpectedly when a thunderous thud suddenly roared as the heavy scaffold smashed against the ground, with the strong inertia catapulting both him and the girl on his back brutally away. Both gave out frightened yells all throughout their airborne course until smacking luckily onto the rooftop of a nearby building still standing vertically despite the surrounding ruin. The thickness of their garments fortunately cushioned their fall.

After orientating themselves back into position, they looked back over the edge of the rooftop at their assailants whose feet remained planted to the ground in surprise at their escape that was nothing short of miraculous.

"Hah! In your faces, bastards!" shouted the girl back in delight, just as a part of the pursuer group scattered around to look for other means of getting to that same rooftop. By the looks of it, they couldn't afford letting the girl escape from their custody… like their lives depended on it. Keen enough to notice it as well, Thomas exhaled a sigh of disquiet as he regrettably thought 'What have I gotten myself into?'

"Still in one piece there?" Thomas finally asked the girl as his way of diverting his troubled thoughts, at the same time trying to subtly wheedle some answers from her.

"Yeah, barely," she responded, strangely still looking guardedly down below. "For a second there, I thought I was going to die. Good for us, though… that down there was actually a dead end… well, it still is, especially with all this wreckage. There's no way those ass-wipes can get to us now."

"I though you didn't know these parts?" asked Thomas probingly right after.

"I do now, looking from this point of view," said the girl informatively. "I remember now… this building used to be a sweatshop, but so much for business now that it has closed down after what happened. Nice place to hang around, though, as long as the buckos that worked here don't find you. Not too many eyes watching here… not like what you get from the usual places."

She then started to limp around, however familiarly. Naturally, Thomas extended out a hand to help. "I think I can stand up on my own now," said the girl conversely. "If none of the doors following this one are locked, you can find your way back to the ground floor onto the other side of this building easily. Otherwise, you can always use the fire-escape. You can go now… I don't mind sticking around here longer."

The red flag that popped up after that last sentence was too obvious for the younger Schubaltz to pass up. She has to hide away from the pursuers and where the two of them are now was the only haven left… for the time being at most. Now that he got himself involved and is on to something, he might as well probe on for more answers. "So you're letting me go just like that… without even a thank you?" he said suggestively. "And what do you mean 'after what happened'? Was there a gale that leveled this part of the city?"

"A gale, you say?" asked the girl mockingly, trying to can in her laughter. "Locals can tell that you're not from around here by just looking at you, and it's amazing you're still alive at this point."

"Really?" said Thomas, starting to get annoyed himself. "Care to shed some light on that?"

"First of all, where on earth did you get those rags that you're wearing?" she answered, looking at the blonde lieutenant from head to foot. "The pattern's so fine and nitty-gritty. It's clearly not made from anywhere around here… and people can tell from a mile away."

Thinking that thanking the girl for complementing his knitting skills as a snide comeback is far from being a good idea, Thomas simply gritted his teeth and said "Good time to tell me the other things I don't know."

"There's been a big cave-in, and it affected some parts of the city," she answered simply. "Ore has been running dry in the principal mines, so some started excavating for it elsewhere. It wasn't a storm that brought the whole thing down. The last gale that hit this place was probably more than a hundred years ago."

"Now why would they dig too close to the surface?" asked Thomas.

"Beats me," replied the girl, shrugging her shoulders indifferently. "Why not ask those dumbasses who thought of the idea of illegally digging tunnels right under where people are actually living?"

"And nobody knows of these activities?" asked Thomas again, this time with a calculating glint in his eyes, in hope that sharply staring the way he did with Fiona and Moonbay would coerce the answers he needed out of the girl.

"You obviously don't know the financial situation in these parts of Zi, my friend," said the girl snootily instead. "But if you ask me, looking for ore where they shouldn't even dream of is just a flimsy front."

"So you're telling me there's more illegal stuff to it than what some people want everyone to think…"

"Call me a conspiracy theorist, but something as fishy as the stench of trafficking needs more than just a mountain of earth to smother its scent."

"Let me guess… zoid parts?" pried Thomas with his emerald-green eyes narrowing.

"Bingo!" said the girl with a slithery wink. At least now, Thomas thinks he's on the right track, but he remained undecided whether or not to thank his stars for ever meeting this girl.

Out of nothing, however, the girl spoke again: "And why the hell should I thank you for doing what you did? I could have taken them all down by myself!"

"In that state you're in?" exclaimed Thomas in a tone he would usually use when conversing with an ingrate.

"Well, excuse me, Mister Wiseguy," retaliated the girl with a sarcastic twang. "I wouldn't have sprained my ankle if you weren't such a busybody in the first place."

"At least I saved your sorry little behind," snapped Thomas, really getting annoyed this time. "I, too, almost got killed there… in case you didn't know."

"And I wonder whose fault that was…"

Both briskly looked away from each other in disgust. After no longer than a few minutes, Thomas went on his way towards to rooftop exit door. But before disappearing through it, he looked back and said "Well, you're welcome anyway. And thanks for this little chat. At least now I know they traffic zoid parts here in Axides. I think you don't have to be reminded that many lives have been lost because of the war, and even though everyone else thinks it's finally over, I for one don't think so. If through some extraordinary means this illegal tradeoff of zoid parts is entirely put to an end, only then can I truly rest when I'm dead. And for you to refer to the trafficking as sickening, I can only speculate that you may have had a very bad experience with it… and I don't blame you for acting that way… in fact, I understand you very clearly. If I've caused you more trouble than there should, which I highly doubt, I apologize for it. You take care of yourself now."

With back still turned towards Thomas, the girl closed her eyes slowly in self-loathing after hearing what the lieutenant said. "Wait!" she finally called out just as Thomas was about to land his first step on the flight of stairs immediately leading to the floor below. The lieutenant, of course, was just too happy to stop, though trying to protract the poker-faced look.

"What now?" Thomas asked, mimicking his annoyed tone of earlier.

"You don't happen to be from the Guardian Force… are you?" asked the girl in turn, this time facing the younger Schubaltz, leaning on the ebony balustrade… still keeping her tough-girl stance as obvious as she could.

Having been the underdog for so long in the Red River Base, the lieutenant can clearly tell if he's being sized up for something. Taking a crack at concealing his surprise, Thomas asked "What makes you think I'm a member of the Guardian Force? I could be a gruesome axe murderer in hiding for all you know."

"Axe-murderer? You? Puh-lease!" purred the girl contemptuously. "Now why would an outsider who goes around wearing an extra coat or two want to go 'in hiding,' so to say, in these parts of all places? I mean, c'mon… what's to find in this dump? Well, that's unless you're up to something… and that can most likely be you're looking for these zoid-parts smugglers either to strike a deal with them or to infiltrate their network. How do I know? It's so elementary for someone like me who's from the outside but has spent a greater deal of time here than you to know the place and what really happens behind these walls."

Thomas eyed her suspiciously. It almost sounded like the girl was unthinkingly blurting out the information he sought for to make a point, and he found it funny how it simply came up to him instead of still having to go far and wide looking for it. This time, he was definitely on the right track! He wasn't sure yet, however, if the girl knew anything about the amalgams. "What's in it for you if I told you I was?" he then asked.

"So then you are…"

"I never said I was."

"For my purpose, I'll just have to take that as a 'yes,'" said the girl cheekily. "I like to strike up a deal with you as well…"

"I knew there was a catch," interrupted Thomas as he gently shook his head, with a faint exasperation in his voice. Someone suggesting using him was another one of the last things he'd wish for in the world.

"Of course," said the girl deliberately. "What doesn't? You thought I would just leave it at that empty-handed? It's a dog-eat-dog world we live in, y'know."

"Oh-kaaaay… why don't you go find another dog to eat you up, 'coz this one's fed up already. Oh, and by the way, I'm not here for the traffickers… at least not yet… for your information, like that matters anyway. Bye now, it was nice knowing you." After getting across his annoyed message, which he made sure the other end of the line felt, Thomas started making his way down the stairway leading from the rooftop exit.

"Alright, alright… here's the thing…" called out the girl again. She didn't have time making herself sound convincing that works for the now unsympathetic lieutenant.

"Save it for the unsuspecting idiot who happens to bump into you next," the lieutenant called back, ignoring altogether what now seemed like an authentic plead for help.

"Oh, c'mon now… have a heart," said the girl jokingly, though almost pleading.

"I'm not hearing anything…" called Thomas back musically, continuing to walk on by.

"Please…"

Still ignoring the girl, Thomas started whistling an old Europa tune he learned during the time he stayed there, though missing a few notes as he tried to recall the assimilated melody from memory.

"I'm desperately asking for help, OK?" shouted the girl in a breath of imploration, almost at the verge of breaking down in tears (and Thomas didn't exactly expect that after the bravado she so much endeavored to exhibit). "Please… I've got nowhere else left to go…"

Left with no other choice, Thomas turned his head back towards the girl to listen what she had to say.

"There's no point now in continuing to pretend I'm having the time of my life here," the girl went on, wiping her misty eyes. "You saw right through me, alright? You happy? I used to work for the Imperial government. That's all I can tell you for now. I can't tell you everything else at the moment, for my sake, but right now I'm in dire need of asylum. I can't go back to the Empire like this on my own… they'll jail me right away without a fair trial the moment I step across the gates. I'm lucky I'm still alive… but if you call this living…"

Exhaustion now clearly crept over the poor girl's muscles. Leaning wearily against the balustrade, her back steadily slid down against it until the ground was near enough for her to sit. Still with no other alternative, the blonde lieutenant approached, mien gradually morphing into an amiable one despite his green eyes' naturally unleashing hue. He sat next to her; without the need to speak, the gesture alone was comprehensible enough to convey that he was ready to listen.

"I hate my life here… first foraging for scraps… then taking on backbreaking work that barely got me through day after day… and now forced to hide like a rat in the sewers," spoke the girl solemnly, kneeling down the cold rooftop floor, staring blankly into space just as one is resorted into on account of fatigue. Feeling a little more relieved after sighing in a deep breath, she continued: "Listen to me… anything to evade arrest, ehehe. I completely understand if you don't trust me one bit, just as I don't completely trust you yet even though you took the heat off of me back there. After all that's happened, who'd think I was actually telling the truth even if I really was? But I can't do anything much about that now. Please, I beg of you… help me. I swear I'll tell you everything when the time is right…"

"And when is that?" interrupted Thomas gently, making sure he wasn't judgmental but still remaining assertive in his timbre. "When we're unexpectedly pinned against the wall again?"

"Not right now, I can tell you that," answered the girl resignedly. "Rest assured another stint like that won't happen again, as soon as we get our butts out of here, before someone walks off with our belongings… or worse, our heads." ('Geez, talk about skullduggery,' though Thomas silently)

"I'm happy to oblige," said the younger Schubaltz shortly thereafter, with attempts at sounding encouraging. "But I'm not leaving the city just yet. I still haven't gotten what I sought for here in the first place."

"What is it?" asked the girl innocently.

The reply she got from Thomas was a raised eyebrow.

"Right… I understand," she retreated at the lieutenant's circumspection. "It's a fair bargain. But I'm dead sure you're one of those Guardian Force guys, and for one to come here for whatever reason almost never happens…"

"Whoa, whoa… back up at bit there," intruded Thomas again as his sharp intuitive instincts started kicking in. "You haven't by any chance seen any Guardian Force members sulking around?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," said the girl, throwing towards Thomas a quizzical look.

"O.K., I'm not going to ask anymore how you knew they were from the Guardian Force," commented Thomas surrenderingly in between.

"There were two of them… they came during the dead of the night some weeks ago," resumed the girl. "They started installing some sort of surveillance gadgets… they looked a lot like cameras… which they painstakingly and elaborately camouflaged. Why? Do you know them?"

Thomas chose not to answer the girl's question. The silence entailed an all-too-welcome message for her, on the other hand. "So you _are_ one of them," she said reassuredly, confident of her assumption. "Thank goodness."

The lieutenant stared into the grateful gleam in the girl's eyes. All it did was make him recall that he hadn't actually ask for any formal permission from the higher-ups to go beyond the bounds of the Red River Base… and there still was his abandoned DiBison that was incessantly worrying him. But being the transparently soft-hearted contrast he was to his brother, this was definitely one situation he couldn't say no to. 'Great… just great!' he thought deridingly as he sighed another one of his worried sighs, beholding the predicament he unwittingly lodged himself into.

He then glances back at the girl. Gumption encompasses any compromise for the untenable state. Instead of thinking his thoughts out loud, with a tired lungful of air, he said "Why didn't you say something sooner if you needed my help that badly?"

The girl gently turned her head towards the blonde lieutenant, a warm and thankful smile painted across it. She wrapped her arms around the younger Schubaltz in genuine gratitude, causing the latter to blush furiously in consequence. "Thank you," she said. "I owe you big. I'm sorry I had to be shrewish with you. It's hard to be tough… but anything to survive in these streets…"

"No harm done," said Thomas nonchalantly. "You can come along with me… on two conditions, however."

"Name it," said the girl in newfound enthusiasm.

"First," continued Thomas. "If there's any information deemed useful, please… by all means… volunteer it at once, alright? Don't mind me when filling both of us in on whatnot anytime."

"Alright."

"Second," Thomas recommenced, gradually sounding more serious. "I'm doing you a favor here. Don't think for a second that everything's for free! I don't ask much from anyone, and if ever there's anything, they'll probably just be trivial courtesies… and don't get any funny ideas in your head. I'm not that kind of guy, so you should know. I can't think of any way you can make up for it just yet, but all I ask of you is this: _don't screw me over_. The moment you do, you're going to find me the most unforgiving. It's straight to the slammer for you as soon as I manage to get out of this mess. Got that?"

"Yeah… I can live with that," said the girl. Somehow she senses the lieutenant wasn't at all comfortable himself in saying that. She knew he had to be assertive, if they want to make it out alive, now that she practically turned a big part of the townspeople against them.

"Alright, just to get things straight…" reiterated Thomas. "As I can recall from our handbook, the law states that if someone in custody gets endorsed over as a prisoner or captive, the one directly responsible for his or her detention can recommend granting the decision to offer asylum, especially if the prisoner's a defector for whatever reason. I don't know how that stupid ruling came about, but clearly you're trying to work it to your advantage. I can understand, though. I can make it look like I've known you long enough to discriminate that you're remorseful of your offenses… just like what the conditions state. I don't know why I'm doing it… in fact, I really don't understand myself sometimes… but just play along with it so it'll be easier for the both of us. The sooner we're both done with this, the sooner we get out of each other's hair. But remember, I can only recommend asylum; it's the panel of generals who hand over the final decision. There's a possibility you can still go to jail. You're fine with that?"

"Sounds like the plan I have in mind as well," replied the girl surrenderingly. "You sure do catch on quick! That's expected of you. I scratch your back, and you scratch mine, if that's O.K. with you. After all, I've got no other place to go, so…"

"I get that part…" clarified the lieutenant during which he again slotted in an interruption. "I just wonder though when you'll eventually be able to scratch my back. Well… as long as you don't stab it, we'll get along just fine."

"When can I be able to convince you that I'd rather perish the thought of it?" said the girl a tad playfully, though Thomas didn't seem to be receptive to a humorous mood yet. Trying to push her weight back up against the wall with her feet, she quickly knelt back on the floor giving out a painful "Ouch!"

"Here, you better let me take a look at that," said Thomas instinctively. Before the girl could say anything else, the blonde lieutenant already started unfastening her weathered footwear. After doing a few gentle maneuvers, he got his scarf and ripped off a thinner strip from it. With it, he neatly wrapped the injured ankle like one would with an elastic bandage.

"Joint seems to be stable," Thomas said as he helped the girl put back her boot. "There isn't any sign of bruising or major swelling, so it seems you haven't torn anything."

"Where did you learn that stuff?" asked the girl quite inquisitively as she eased her injured leg straight. "Are you a doctor?"

"No… my mother was," answered Thomas. "Whenever I had the chance to spend more time with her… that is whenever I needed a break from tinkering with gadgets from the scrapheap (he added in an undertone)… I chose to spend it watching her with her patients. They're the little bits and pieces of knowledge you pick up and internalize as you grow up. I always wished I got to spend more time that way with my father." He paused for a few seconds. "Say, you sure know your way around here, not to mention being good with the knife," he began shortly, shrugging off that bit of bitter reminiscing.

"You learn what you gotta learn to survive in these streets," said the girl plainly, not taking her sight off Thomas, still fixated with the certain air that emerged as the lieutenant paused during that wordless moment. Unable to help express some concern, she asked "Your father… what happened to him?"

The younger Schubaltz gazed back at her with a slight sternness. His innately unnerving green eyes carried on the conversation… as if they were saying 'Slow down… you and I are not _that_ close.'

"Sorry," she muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed at the short encounter.

Thomas didn't say anything right afterwards. Later than a few minutes, he took out a couple of pills from his coat pocket and handed them to the girl. "Here, take a couple of these," he said. "It helps me with my headaches. It'll numb the pain for the time being while we can't afford to stick around longer to take the weight off our feet."

The girl obeyed the lieutenant without further ado. She expeditiously gulped the pills without water down her dry throat. Thereafter, both remained quiet, staring ingenuously into the gray horizon. It was estimated to be 1000 hours local time, but it looked more like the sun will never get a chance to pierce its rays through the thick clouds.

"Now what?" It was Thomas who broke the silence, having grown tired of the dead air that prevailed. Both have now caught up with their breaths, so naturally they had to get a move on. Both eased to stand up and get the blood flowing into their legs.

"Haven't you still got unfinished business here?" asked the girl frankly. "For starters, you'd better get that over with before going back down south."

'Easy for you to say,' Thomas thought as he alluded to his situation that just grew more complicated. A recommendation for asylum he can give, if disciplinary action against him for being out of post doesn't get in the way. "I knew you'd say something like that," he verbalized yieldingly, trying to avoid avenues for further quibbles. "How's the foot?"

"Walking on it's starting to get bearable… thanks," said the girl. Looking at the lieutenant putting back his mangled scarf, she couldn't help but curve her lips upward in an innocuous smile.

"What are you grinning at?" asked the younger Schubaltz, spotting the expression on the girl's face.

"Nothing," she said. "Maybe at the fact that we're still alive. Plus I also have to ask… what were you thinking back there, taking on that horde of lunatics on your own? You should know they're all trained assassins! I don't know how to put it… it's either you're unbelievably lionhearted or incredibly stupid."

"Ever get the feeling that so much has happened in your life that weighing things down before taking action has become so completely useless that you feel like you no longer fear any consequence… oh, forget it!" Thomas ended his explanation abruptly at the first clue of sounding corny. "If they're trained assassins… well… I'm a trained soldier," he interjected awkwardly to conclude his dialogue.

Teasingly, Beek bleeped into Thomas' ear: "You just got lucky."

'Shut up, Beek… I'm trying to impress here,' he muttered to it under his breath irritably.

"Whether they are or not…" reasoned the girl, again beginning to sound fretful like she did formerly. "…The possibility still should at least make you stop to think first. Believe me; you don't want to get them at their angriest."

"It never stopped you before."

"No offense, but having spent barely two days in Axides, I'm afraid you don't know squat to earn the privilege to say that," she said gently. "For your own good, we don't want to go on assuming things."

"Fine… you know Axides much better than I do," said Thomas edgily, very much wanting to get out of the biting cold. "I'm not going to argue with you over that anymore."

Both started towards the rooftop exit, entered it, and went down a few floors; the whole time, the two didn't utter a word to each other. As soon as they got to the second floor, however, the girl started talking: "First, we gotta get out of these clothes. I'm sure you've noticed… people here wouldn't know who their talking to until they go indoors. They're still on to us, and they'll be sure to find us if we keep these rags on."

"Good idea," said Thomas, commending at the thought, though not at all trying to sound optimistic. "Nice to know we're starting to agree on things."

"A good sign," echoed the girl. "Anyway, this used to be a factory, so I'm pretty sure they've got a couple of homegrown garments stashed away in the locker room. Every sweatshop in Axides has one. The building's practically abandoned, so I'm sure no one will mind. Hey, that's something that looks like a locker; let's go check it out…"

"Look…" began Thomas, taking a shot at skewering the discomfiture, making the girl turn back to the suggesting lieutenant in deterrence from her started-up search. "I've been thinking… If we're to make it out of this alive and kicking, we're going to have to work together on this…"

"Ditto," concurred the girl, placing her arms languidly in akimbo. "So what do you propose?"

"We start with a clean slate," said Thomas, stretching out his hand in polite gesture with a callow smile, doing his best to overcome the awkwardness. "Since we haven't introduced each other formally, I'm First Lieutenant Thomas Richard Schubaltz. You can just call me Thomas if that suits you."

The girl looked undauntedly into the younger Schubaltz's eyes appearing currently on edge, but warmth in it present all the same. She unhurriedly smiled at the sight and took his hand in turn to shake it.

"The name's Carol," she said.

In the meantime, back at the Red River Base zoids hangar, Romy and Annie stand across the spot where the DiBison was supposed to be parked. Both of them were gazing instead at a still intact hologram projection duplicate of it, for which they actually came over to check on. Everything seemed to be in order, to their half-baked relief… but as much as they hated it, both couldn't discount feeling an irksome lack of complacency.

"Any word from him yet?" asked Annie worriedly.

"No, none yet," came Romy's straightforward answer, finding beating around the bush to be quite a needless inconvenience. Though he inwardly admits being good at making up reasons to slip out of tight situations through manners of speech, he couldn't exactly say the same for long when it comes to standing in Thomas' place, moving higher-ups to believe that the younger Schubaltz voluntarily confined himself to quarters in quarantine by impersonating his voice over the phone, with a touch of sounding like someone down with a cold. The haggle may be good but it was unfortunately destined to expire in less than twenty-four hours.

"Dammit, Thomas… you could have at least sent us out a signal that you're still alright," Annie muttered to the horizon.

"The die's cast, Annie," Romy stated ultimately, looking as if unperturbed in his rationalization. "No use trying to hope for things to go our way this time. Thomas did say he can't bring his DiBison all they way there, so right now, he's incommunicado. All we can do now is to bear with the silence. We'll just have to trust him in this. Just sit back and wait. He knows what he's doing… at least I know he does."

"I think not this time, though," disputed Annie, pertaining to her contrary feelings. "I'm sorry if this doesn't come out nice, but sometimes I fear for his stability. I'm not trying to put him down, but to me, he seemed to be at the brink of a nervous breakdown sometimes. That night we watched him go from this very same spot, it felt like he abandoned all hope that the first chance to a ticket down the garden path of disaster was all he wanted to end it all. You can only imagine how much that scares me."

"You doubt him that much?" commented Romy in discreet surprise. "You're giving him a lot less credit than he deserves. Sure, he can be weird in some respects, but he's too smart to give in to insanity. We have to understand too that of the three of us, he's receiving the bigger brunt of the stringency. I admit he could use a little break from time to time. We all do."

Annie was surprised at Romy's sudden show of apparent shrewdness. She recalled how he described Thomas' behavior when he dropped by unexpected at the brown-haired lieutenant's dorm the night he took off.

"He could have at least told us what was bothering him," said Annie softly.

"Maybe he wasn't ready," reasoned Romy again. "I know Thomas can be a tough one to crack sometimes… just when you think you've figured him out… but we gotta give him some space too."

"He could have tried something else apart from traveling all the way to the north," said Annie, not seeming to run out of 'he-could-haves.' It was conspicuous however, even to Romy, how she hates the overbearing sense of regret one could feel at the mere thought of losing someone she finally realized to have found a friend in.

"I think it's better we get back inside," said Romy, trying to divert Annie's attention. After all, he was finding no other reason to prolong their stay in the hangar.

The moment the cadet private and lieutenant departed from the hangar completely, a silhouette behind an adjacent zoid suddenly stepped into the light. It was Rob Herman carrying out his compulsory rounds for the day.

'Why are they talking about Thomas Schubaltz like that?' he thought to himself perplexedly, eyeing the exit cautiously, somehow expecting Annie or Romy go back in by chance. He scratched his chin evenly in deep thought at what he just overheard… at least the latter half of it. He let his sight move about the vicinity at his convenience… stopping eventually at the view of the DiBison.

'I'm sure he's down with a cold… he called me up himself,' continued Herman's musing… though in time he did remember that he hadn't send a sector doctor down to his quarters to have a look at him and report back, as had always been required. The major thought he'd do away with protocol for once; he knew he could trust Thomas not to be malingering, since he always showed up to report in every single day.

But very soon thereafter, he would begin questioning that trust…

He wanted to run his hand over the frayed alloy of the DiBison as his way of marveling over the amount of punishment it had to take over the missions. But something bewildering met his senses when his hand went right through what he originally thought was firm metallic matter.

"What the hell-…!" he gasped in shock.

Have to cut this short. It was getting long again. CHAPTER XV will come, don't worry.

A/N: It'll take me longer to get CHAPTER XV out. My priorities will be changing abruptly over the next months and I may not find enough time to continue writing my fanfic like I did in the past. Rest assured, the subsequent chapter _will _come out. That's a promise of a lifetime. Bear with me.


	15. Chapter XV

_It's been a long time since my last entry. Imagine taking more than a year just to get this one chapter out. But then again, you can't imagine how crazy it has been these past several months! Because of that, my writing skills have sadly gone rusty. I wonder what the reviews will be as I come out of the introspective shell and go for broke on shifting to a more adventurous genre._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER XV**

"I hate to be the first one to complain of impatience, but what exactly are we looking for?"

Thomas was starting to wish he had just left Carol back at the derelict sweatshop to undo his regret of pampering her with a vulnerary and bringing her along. Still pestered by this nagging feeling that he would need her in the future, he instead irately answered "For a tavern… how many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Well, can I at least know what the tavern's called?" asked Carol like an annoyingly persistent child. "There's only a handful to name…"

"Now why should I tell you that?"

"Uh, I know this place in case you haven't noticed it by now…" said Carol in brazen sarcasm.

"I have a map," retorted Thomas calmly, waving the item obviously. "I'll ask for your help when I need it. So now it's either 'shut up' or 'get lost' for you."

He didn't want to say that, but taking the risk of calling a bluff every now and then seemed like a useful tool in ascertaining one's loyalty.

"Stop being unreasonable, will you?" contested Carol. "Can't you tell when help's already staring at you in the face? I'm just sticking to the conditions you laid out. How long are you going to stay on that high horse of yours?"

"You're not trying to be helpful, you're trying to be manipulative… and I'm not going to fall for that," accused Thomas manneredly. "I'm beginning to get angry, and it happens when I'm around Svengalis."

"Alright, alright… I'm shutting up now," said Carol in surrender, finding it useless to keep on arguing while being forced back to assume the submissive prisoner role. "Jeez, I wonder what happened to starting out with a clean slate."

Thomas pretended he didn't hear that last comment, and continued studying the map in his search for Dagobert Mohl. The morning wore on, with their pursuit bordering on the fruitless. The lieutenant was starting to feel discouraged, doubting if his plan he was so intently driven to put together would ever materialize. Wandering around aimlessly treading every possible route indicated on the map for the last two hours wasn't something he would mind; he figured it was part of the whole underdog process. But with the subzero air and a critiquing audience at his heels, he wistfully wished he was back in the same old Red River Base hospital wing he grew so familiar with, sipping on a warm batch of chicken soup.

Seeing himself about to bite the dust, Thomas looked up towards the dimly lit cloudy sky as if he was trying to speak to someone from above for advice: 'Can you give us a clue here? Where exactly would you head to if it were you down here?'

"It wouldn't hurt to ask for directions, y'know." It was Beek gently bleeping into the lieutenant's ear. The younger Schubaltz's heart simply sank in embarrassment, hearing how much more sensible the AI was than its creator. That bitter slice of humble pie was sure to leave a mordant taste in the lieutenant's mouth.

Thomas cleared his throat after finally yielding to Beek's suggestion. Not wanting to look back to avert Carol's gaze that'd add more to his humiliation, he starkly place his arms akimbo and said somberly, almost to himself, "I'm stumped… we should have reached the 'Barren Refuge' by now."

"Say that again…" quickly spoke Carol, like a hunting dog propping its ears up at the first sound of its prey's footsteps.

"It's the 'Barren Refuge' I'm trying to get to, alright," waived the lieutenant wearily. "You happy now?"

"Oh, for the love of…" came another exasperated comeback phrase from the girl after hearing Thomas' retort. "If you had just spoken up sooner, I could have told you this tavern's been demolished. It could have saved us a whole lot of trouble… not to mention energy… but nooo, you just had to act the proud independent guy and keep it to yourself."

The expression on the lieutenant's face quickly changed. "What was that?" asked Thomas hurriedly, completely ignoring the act of saving face altogether. He quickly turned his gaze back to Carol for an answer, outfitting his mien unintentionally with apprehension as if his carefully-laid plans were all about to go up in smoke.

"If you're meaning to hear again what happened to that tavern you're talking about… it's all but a pile of rubble now," answered Carol, simultaneously raising an eyebrow quizzically as she sensed the worried tone in the lieutenant's expression. "Perhaps I don't have to spell out to you how that happened. Looking around you, I'm sure you'll figure…"

Thomas hurled the map down to the ground in absolute disgust. "Again, information I would very much benefited from if you just spilled it out sooner," came the first knee-jerk reply that slid off his tongue. He had repeatedly berated himself long enough that he reflexively thought that it was about time he sought for another party to pour the boiling oil of blame on. "That's strike one for you. Two more and you're on your own."

"What the hell…? I don't believe this!" shot off Carol as expected.

"Just like when you first bumped into me back wherever desolate alley that was; we could have had a head-start in escaping from those thugs have you told me earlier that you were running away from someone before we got us both involved with much deeper sh-,… Pah! I'm not even going to say it!" went on Thomas before Carol could so much as say anything else in edgeways.

Too incensed to say anything else, Carol replied when she finally had the chance, "For fear of sounding redundant… WHAT THE HELL?"

"Communication, Carol…" said Thomas, slowly realizing that by acting obliviously in a manner of saving face, and by talking down on her that he was already pushing the girl's buttons to her annoyance, very much like what Van would do to him. "It'd make things a lot easier," he added teasingly just for the fun of it. He knew at some point in this personal mission of his that he was going to feel like his travails were all going to be for nothing… so for now, he was deriving as much entertainment as he can from the situation. Somehow it felt triumphant for him to annoy someone for once, the same way Van had purposefully annoyed him in the past; with that, he started chuckling to himself inwardly.

"You know what I think?" started Carol in recovery. "Without any reservation, I think you've got a lot of issues going on. Not a difficult pick-up, seeing you first come into view."

"What?" replied Thomas in aghast. "Speak for yourself!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Carol irascibly, throwing the same quizzical look she had earlier. "I so don't have the issues you have…"

"Namely what?" prodded Thomas.

"Trust, for one," replied Carol straightforwardly. "Pardon my candor, but you strike me as the prototype of a man who's afraid of getting close to anyone…"

"It's the best defense mechanism ever known… you should try it sometime," said Thomas without a moment's vacillation, nodding slyly.

"What's wrong with you?" asked the girl ambivalently, the look on her face starting to change. "You don't sound the same like you did on the rooftop. It's like you're morphing into another person. I may not know much about you, but…"

"You're absolutely right," said Thomas, staring at Carol unwaveringly. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

Carol wasn't liking how Thomas was acting. It wasn't that of repugnance against how the lieutenant was turning out to be at that very moment, but more of a growing melancholy and fear at the chance that that kind side of his which became apparent back on the sweatshop rooftop when he was tending to her foot won't be able to show itself ever again.

But in the midst of the girl's dispiriting musing, an unexpected noise came cutting into the cold air…

It was Thomas' stomach growling.

An edgy silence interposed by the sound of a frigid gust of wind followed. Carol narrowed her eyes at Thomas (who was now blushing and evading her stare, hoping that she didn't hear his hunger pang just now) and asked "Tell me, when was the last time you ate a decent meal?"

Even before Thomas could conjure up a crafty riposte, another sound of a croaking gut came resounding. This time it was Carol's belly yelping in starvation.

"Probably the same time you did…" answered the younger Schubaltz instead. Then came a lighthearted and relieved laughter, an absolute departure from the tense atmosphere of a few moments ago. Each of them was internally grateful that it was only hunger that was causing the edginess.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," spoke Carol eventually. "It's a good time to go get something to eat."

"Since you claim to know the vicinity very well, why don't you lead us to some place where they sell cheap grub?" suggested Thomas after picking up his map from the ground. "I'm sure Axides has its own attractions, though I highly doubt we'll find many…"

"Do I look like a tour-guide to you?" answered Carol cheekily. "Besides, I'm now officially functioning as a vagabond, if you recall… so who said anything about buying food?"

"By that, I strongly hope you mean hunting for food instead…" said Thomas softly, wishing a silly statement such as that would ward off any idea of doing something unlawful.

"The day I see a wild boar foraging around in this bitter cold is the day all hell freezes over as well," announced Carol sassily as she wandered her gaze into the neighboring streets. "The only specimens of pork you'll see around here are the ones suspended by hooks, with all of its innards removed, traveling monthly by dozens to these parts refrigerated in Gustavs…" She finally zeroed in her surveying stare at a rundown concrete shed, with a glass window too dirty for anyone to see the inside from a distance. It appeared to be a shop of some sort.

"Jackpot," said the girl delightedly. "Let this be your first lesson in Survival in Axides 101… Observe."

"By that, I strongly hope you mean obtaining dole-outs from pitying shop owners through flirtatious means," said Thomas softly again, almost to a fault, technically wording his sentence in that same attempt as previous. It was just him reluctantly anticipating the worst of what the girl might do.

"If you think I'm that easy, think again…" snapped Carol in annoyance at what Thomas said. Before the lieutenant could say anything else, the almost hoydenish female started strutting towards the shop urbanely. In less than a minute, she disappeared through its door. Thomas, however, stayed where he was. In times like these, his gut feeling would tell him to keep his distance, should he make a run for it.

Even before five minutes have elapsed, the younger Schubaltz started hearing shouts from the shop, mixed with the sound of a couple of metallic pots clanging against the floor. In seconds, Carol came bustling through the door, carrying a package under her arm, yelling "Run, run, run!"

"That girl's absolutely crazy!" muttered the lieutenant animatedly, shortly following Carol in a sprint after catching a glimpse of the shop owners doing the same while brandishing butchering knives. His intuition had again served him well.

"Back to the sweatshop," instructed Carol between heaves of breaths. "They'll never find us there."

"Now I see how you keep your list of friends long," sneered Thomas disgustedly as he marveled at finding himself running away yet again from an angry crowd.

After successfully shaking the group of furious meat-handlers off their trail, the both of them find themselves again on the rooftop of that same deserted sweatshop where they started off their search for the illusive tavern.

"Great," grunted Thomas disdainfully, trying to catch his breath. "If you know of any way to brush off that sinking feeling that we're back to square one, please tell me so before I purposefully hit my head against the wall."

"Looks like you're giving up already," said Carol, catching her breath likewise. "I don't remember that being hailed as a motto in the Guardian Force. How about seeing the glass half full for a change?"

"Well, what more can I say… under the current circumstances, we're both screwed big time," declared Thomas as if it were the universal truth. "You for one won't be able to prance about on these streets again without being recognized by anyone within three degrees of separation from those thugs we danced to the tune of death with for whatever it was you've done to make them extremely unhappy. All the more I need to get you out of this place the soonest time possible."

"Is it just me, or is that a hint of concern for me that I just felt from you?" asked Carol mischievously, looking at Thomas from the side of her head. "Having lived here in Axides for two years, don't you think it should be the other way around?"

"Oh well, what's the use…," Thomas continued in an undertone, ignoring Carol as he waddled in the pool of his own dissuasion. 'As far as I'm concerned, I've already been screwed from the beginning, no matter how hard I try to redeem myself. But seeing myself exit with a blast… now at least that's something worth watching,' he thought to himself.

Carol sighed a bit of concern on the whole matter. However, the last thing she needed right now was being eaten up inside by despair. Though embarrassed to show it, she was internally grateful for what Thomas was doing.

"Here," said Carol as she passed to the younger Schubaltz something which she harvested from the package she stole from the shop. "It's white meat, salted and steamed until it's just about ready to eat. It lasts longer that way in these parts."

"Thanks," answered Thomas generically. It wasn't his favorite dish, but then again, he was extremely hungry… and beggars definitely can't be choosers.

"As I see it, we're both starving, that's why we can't think straight," reasoned Carol as she took a bite out of her ration. "With this abandoned sweatshop as our haven for now, we can both stop, step back to look at the whole picture, and regroup. So think of this as having bigger fish to fry."

Thomas looked at her straightly, taking bites from the piece of salted meat he got. "I can see where you're going with this," he said in a tone that sounded like the phrase 'which is a good thing' (though unsaid) has been brought across vividly.

"Darn right you do," said Carol humouredly, gaining more confidence. "Sticking to the conditions you laid out, I'll tell you what my ideas on this whole thing are… which I'm dead sure you'll find useful."

"That'd better be," said Thomas. "Go on. I'm listening."

"He he he," chortled Carol teasingly. "Was that you needing my help I just sensed just now?"

"Just get on with it, will you?" retorted Thomas, though with a smile itching to get out.

"Success: I got a smile out of you," said Carol, sounding quite relieved seeing the food she stole doing the trick. "It's refreshing to inject a bit of a sense of humor every now and then.

"Anyway, here are my thoughts," she continued after biting off another piece of meat. "Now that we know the 'Barren Refuge' is no more, the next thing to expect is for its long-established patrons to look someplace else for their daily dose of booze… y'know… to 'keep themselves warm.' Knowing this place, they'll probably perch at the 'Horizon Sun,' a few kilometers west from here… right about… there!" That was right about the time she pointed out the mildewed glass window towards the cloudy topography where the saloon was supposed to be. "At least that pub's a good place for us to start searching for whoever it is you're looking for… I mean, it's better than nothing."

"I agree," said Thomas as he leaned against the windowsill, wiping and peering through the dirty glass, trying to extend his vision towards the aerial avenue Carol was pointing to. "I'm almost certain we'll be able to find that place on the map," he said, alluding to Jon Copper's cartographic skills, which for him remains undisputed.

"I'm sure we'll do," ascertained Carol. "It was built the same time as the 'Barren Refuge' a number of years back if I remember what I learned correctly. Competition was fierce, with the former losing out, given the other's locational advantage. But now that the 'Barren Refuge' is out of the way, it's now enjoying business very much."

"I take it this bird's eye view of the place can't get any better than this because of the fog," observed Thomas. "But at least from here, we can be able to plan where we can pave our path to steer clear of those delightful comrades of yours."

"Precisely," said Carol. "'Horizon Sun' is a pretty inappropriate name for any commercial establishment in any point here in Axides. You never see the sun show itself past this perpetual mist, even at summertime."

"Even so, it'll work well for us," reassured Thomas, hoping to derive some use from the fog in terms of concealment in the future. "There. I've found where it is. The first bit of the road going there's a tad long and winding, but it eventually feeds into a main highway, so it won't be a problem for us finding our way."

"Good," answered Carol, reflexively feeling relief at what she just heard. "We can use this time to rest; pubs don't open 'til evening… but you know that already, right?"

Although taking a good rest first is a very nice idea, the lieutenant was very much aware that the more he overextends his stay in Axides, the greater he puts himself at risk of being found out. He finally breathed out the deepest sigh of surrender before saying, "Oh well, since you're going to tag along with me, there's no point in concealing who I'm supposed to meet up with."

So Thomas began telling his story by finally admitting being a member of the Guardian Force ("Aha, I knew it," said Carol excitedly), and that his whole purpose of going to Axides in the guise of someone wanting to work in the mines was to obtain hard-to-find machine parts from Dagobert Mohl. He kept the scope of his tale to what Carol needed to know as well so that they'd be in agreement for the most part whenever concerted teamwork is needed to bail them out of certain death. He knew he'd be opening another can of worms just by the mere mention of zoid-parts smuggling, not to mention starting a life-changing avalanche of events that would follow (at least for Romy) if they manage to successfully unlock the mystery behind that outlawed covert assemblage to bring them all to justice.

Plus, he didn't know her that much to start trusting her the way he would Romy or Annie. He had learned a lot from experience.

"Dagobert Mohl," muttered Carol as she pondered on the name. "Sounds awfully familiar. I hear that name thrown in every now and then in old-folk conversation. Funny… 'coz he always gets associated with ancient coinage and not with zoid parts."

"Really?" uttered Thomas unrestfully, sensing he was treading on the right path. "Not even the slightest association with zoid parts?"

"Nope," answered Carol curtly.

"Anything else you know about this man?" queried Thomas further, trying to paste together bits and pieces that are hints to this Dagobert character.

"At this point, what you know is as much as I know, I'm afraid," said Carol.

Thomas remained quiet, conceiving feelings of distraught that didn't come forth despite his efforts of venting them out, probably because he was just too tired to do so. Though Dagobert Mohl is still of an illusory feature to him at present, he just sensed that fostering a two-way interaction with him at the very least was going to be a huge mountain to climb over. It was bad enough that he has major doubts as to whether or not this carefully-laid scheme of his will be a smash hit (let alone him having doubts if the plan was really carefully laid out to begin with). To make matters worse, he'd easily get downhearted when venturing out to try one of his outlandish means… and he's very much aware of that tendency of his. He'd inadvertently recall how, through others' eyes, he'd be seen by far as satisfying the role of 'bookishly unimaginative;' the assigned stigma was so strong that it was almost believable to naïve listeners, and it made any way out of it virtually impossible. But he knew the decisive life-and-death nature of this encounter with the zoid parts dealer that ignoring these quirks shouldn't be half-baked.

Just then, he realized that being a good actor as the whole essence of being undercover was the very cornerstone. It was pretty unconventional for his taste… but then again, his attempts of making a name for himself in the unforgiving terrain that was the Guardian Force was unpurposefully painting a self-portrait of 'vociferously unconventional'… and not working to his advantage at that, since he doesn't have the universally acceptable manly physical attributes to back it up.

Seeing that the lieutenant was lost in deep thought, Carol volunteered to break the silence…

"Uh… about earlier," she began, rather sheepishly at that, contrasting her earlier hoydenish demeanor. "I'm sorry if I offended you by saying that you were afraid of getting close to anyone. I mean, I can only imagine what you've been through or may be going through right now to feel guarded… but I can tell that everything's been rather undue. I've been through a lot of crap myself… hell, you can even say I've been to the Triangle Daras and back. It's rather selfish of me to not try to understand others when I have always been expecting others to understand me for my predicaments. For me to have blurted that inconsiderate comment out without thinking was absolutely uncalled for. For that I apologize."

Wearied as Thomas looked, he couldn't help but curl his lips in a faint smile of gratitude at Carol for taking a stab at understanding him. The imp inside him however decided to tease the girl a little bit. Breaking the grin to clear his throat, he said, "Sorry's all you have to say? You think you can get off that easily? I want to see you grovel first…"

"Oh, shut up," said Carol, almost chuckling, seeing right through the younger Schubaltz's mischief in a second. A puckish grin resurfaced on Thomas' face at the sign of Carol's reaction. "But seriously, I wasn't trying to put you down. It was probably just the hunger talking."

The lieutenant then removed the thermoscan goggles he had wrapped around his forehead earlier to make some impromptu adjustment to its settings… just to keep himself preoccupied. Little did he know that Carol had been observing him the whole time after that.

"Y'know, I could recall at least one other person who has the same green eyes you have back when I was still in the Imperial Army," she harmlessly commented.

"You must be referring to my brother," replied Thomas matter-of-factly while still tinkering on the settings of his custom-designed goggles almost in a preoccupied comportment.

"You're kidding, right," said Carol in disbelief, trying to sound as nonchalant as she can. "Colonel Karl Schubaltz is your brother?"

"The one and only," said Thomas, although not trying to be cynical. His older brother more often than not has always been used as a gauge for comparison whenever dialogues similar to this took place. Although he did not appreciate being, in the process, reminded of his low grade point average when it comes to getting girls to like him (and reflexively of how getting as much character-building experiences as he possibly can will never change it), he doesn't feel bitter about it towards his brother.

"Who would have thought… small world, isn't it," said Carol after that, a tad uneasily, trying to sound plain. To Thomas, she sounded like she knew his older brother a little more than just on a mere acquaintance scale… not that it concerned him significantly. "Looks good, though… the green eyes, I mean," she added by her own volition.

It came a bit of a surprise for the lieutenant, though, to feel some bit of appreciation from someone of the opposite sex. "Hmm, did I do something noble annoyingly to deserve such decent recognition?" he asked teasingly with no restraint.

Carol tried to suppress a snicker at the manner of how Thomas delivered his last line. "In fairness, you're not as stuck-up as I thought you were," said Carol, deferring to give a straight answer.

"Thank you very much for that wonderful observation," responded Thomas, however lightheartedly. "Throw me a bone, why don't you?"

"Here's your bone," Carol said right away, throwing him another piece of salted meat. "You need to build up your strength," she added while walking towards a door connecting to a small balcony, winking at Thomas before she exited. The lieutenant kept observing her from afar as she sat and stretched out on the baluster, placidly finishing the piece of salted meat in her hand. How she sounded when the subject of him being Karl's brother was brought up somehow lingered to bug him. Going back to how she wanted to seek amnesty sort of got him thinking of what she might have done that made her seem on edge at the mere sight of green irises that are the Schubaltz's identifying mark.

The afternoon continued uneventfully. Out of boredom, Carol chose to scout the rundown building to rummage for items she might find useful. The lieutenant adjourned her invitation to accompany her in foraging, however. He decided to stayed put to finish making adjustments to his thermoscan goggles to make it project a small hologram screen. After doing so, Thomas began cramming down all the information Beek gathered regarding numismatics, both ancient and recent. With rest periods in between, he would download some general facts and figures about Axides both to see where he stands at and to equip him for his own protection in a manner of speaking. Although the northern territories boast its exports of only the highest quality ore on planet Zi, it embarrassingly harbors renegades, runaways, escaped convicts, and deserters as well. Thanks to its eternally foggy terrain, they have become untouchables to the peacekeeping bureau and military. All of a sudden, the cold air the lieutenant was feeling through his garments just got chillier. Just what other things do people do around here for a living, he thought nervously.

In a couple of hours, the light from the sun started to wane. Thomas could have brought his portable light with him had he anticipated bumping into Carol along the way, spiraling him into this sudden change of events. Just in time, Carol resurfaced with a kerosene lamp in one hand and a sack which no doubt contained a cornucopia of junk.

"Man, I could start a business selling all these," came Carol's high-spirited voice, not seeming to have grown tired from this morning's events. Thomas would have loved to ask what her secret is. Luckily for him, he had assimilated in his short-term memory all that needed to be known about coinage.

"Hey, you haven't left that spot since I last saw you," Carol commented harmlessly. Thomas had to agree; he felt his butt starting to become one with the floor from sitting on it for too long.

He wrapped everything up by simply turning off the hologram screen he was staring at for the past two hours. "What've you got there?" asked the lieutenant in between twisting his body back and forth to stretch out the creaks after getting up.

Carol cringed upon hearing the cracking sounds made by the joints of Thomas' spine. "Gross! It's just revolting how some people can do that," she said. Nonetheless, with a smile, she dug into the sack for an item which she passed on to the younger Schubaltz. "You seemed extremely absorbed with the hologram screen... what've you been up to?" she added curiously.

"Nothing much… just figuring out how we can lure our big fish to the bait," he answered metaphorically as he examined the pack that was passed on to him just now. With the light emanating form the kerosene lamp, he could decipher cooking instructions on the back of the vacuum-wrapped item. Seeing Carol lighting up a travel-sized stove which she harvested along with a pot from the sack she was carrying, the ever familiar sensation of feeling rotten made another unwanted come back.

"I didn't know you were actually out looking for food," said Thomas, almost apologetically, thinking that she was just once again displaying her knack for anything weird. "I should have come along to help you at least."

"You're such a typical guy," Carol said straightforwardly, almost in a joking timbre however. "You won't believe how many times I've heard that empty line. Don't worry; I'm a strong enough girl to keep me from depending on some man." There was a streak of severity to it though originally meant on a trivial level. The blonde lieutenant simply looked away distraught.

"I'm sorry," apologized Carol, immediately distressed after realizing what she just said. "Looks like I spoke again without thinking. Someone as nice as you shouldn't deserve that…"

"A moment ago, I just got labeled as a typical guy," answered Thomas in a relaxed disposition, although leaning towards a challenging tone. "Now you think I'm nice. Tell me, how do you know what I'm really like? We just met."

"Touché," said Carol yieldingly, struck by Thomas' reasoning, expecting that one coming her way. "True, I've only known you for a number of hours." She chuckled in between. "I guess I wouldn't get over myself saying this, but you've got a gentle and sincere air about you… and I'm not just saying that to iron out the wrinkles."

"Well… Thanks… I guess," said Thomas simply. "That's the first real complement I've received in a long time." He immediately took back what he initially thought about Carol… not all she brought back was junk.

"You're welcome," said Carol. "Here, let me prepare that for you," she added while taking the vacuum-sealed pack of quick nourishment from the lieutenant's hands.

Both of them ate their supper, with the lieutenant not uttering a single word the whole time. The whole time, figuring that he really didn't have any other choice, he listened to the stories Carol recited about her daily life and struggles in Axides. He was amazed at how easily she found in him an outlet for her restlessness, as if she hadn't talked to anyone else in a long time.

Four o'clock in the afternoon was like nine o'clock in the evening back in Europa. The surrounding became so pitch-black from the fog that it felt like the kerosene lamp was the only source of light in the whole universe.

"We'd better get some sleep for now," said Carol ultimately, sounding more homely this time. "It's just a few more hours before we commence burning tracks. I don't know about you, but I think this will eventually turn out to be a very long night for us… and we need all the rest we can get." She then went over to Thomas and leaned gently on his shoulder to reach the kerosene lamp situated more or less behind him.

That, however, was absolutely unexpected for Thomas. She could have turned off the only light-emanating source in the room without putting her hand kindly on his shoulder. Searching for a reason for it only unruffled him; just one simple gesture started him to feel a cascade of conflict inside.

'What could she possibly find in me?' he thought fiercely. 'Is she actually seeing me as me, or are these just borne out of sympathy? Is she playing with my feelings, just like what everybody else has been doing?'

He tried to shake off these thoughts, trying to spuriously introduce a feeling of happiness that someone is appreciative of him for once. He, however, couldn't steal a wink of sleep throughout the remaining time of rest he had left before advancing towards his endpoint for setting foot in Axides. Partly, he was afraid of being engulfed by another wrenching nightmare that an overstepped vigilance was kind of expected.

The next thing he knew was feeling someone shaking him back and forth, shuttling him right back into the waking realm. His sleep wasn't deep enough to allow him to dream. Seeing nothing else but pitch black, everything was a jumbled mix of queues until the rest of his senses were able to catch on to make him appreciate the echoing calls of 'Wake up.'

"Hey, Thomas… you with me?" Carol spoke gently. "It's time. How long do you think it'll take us to get there on foot?" Carol's silhouette started to form detail as Thomas' eyes began adjusting to the dim background light of the kerosene lamp from earlier.

As a primitive flustered response, he yanked himself up pretty much the way a student would after realizing that he overslept and is late for class. Apparently, he forgot to prompt Beek to wake him up.

"Whoa… whoa… easy there," exclaimed Carol, pulling down a momentarily frantic Thomas as if trying to tame a wild beast of labor. "It's alright… no one's out to get you."

"I'm sorry," said Thomas finally after quickly settling down, however extremely embarrassed at his unconscious behavior.

"Don't sweat it," reassured Carol. "It happens to the best of us."

After collecting themselves, both expeditiously started their way down the flight of stairs of their new hideout which might as well be the most accommodating place in all of Axides for the duo. As much as the lieutenant abhorred leaving their haven, meeting up with Dagobert Mohl was something he had to do, and nothing simply can supersede it. The way Carol was facilitating the tour, it was almost like she was speaking on his behalf; she however knew better to let Thomas do the driving in a manner of speaking, since he had the map.

At that juncture, Thomas was more concerned however about receiving any report from Romy as to what the status of the situation back at the Red River Base was. In time, his prayer was answered when Beek bleeped a 'message received' in his system. The lieutenant was relieved to know that everyone still thinks he's out sick. Although the message was about four to five hours apart from the time it was sent on account of the poor signal, he conceded it to be better than nothing. Those set the only boundaries of comfort he can hold on to.

They carried on treading the monotonously dark streets and highways, feeling their way as careful as they can to avoid bumping into anyone suspicious (then again, everyone in Axides had to be considered suspicious). It was supposed to be six o'clock in the evening when everyone should already be settling in their homes (or at least on their way home, for that matter) but strangely, not even shimmers of indoor light can be seen through the frosted windows of the styleless apartments that paved the road on both sides.

"You do know how he looks like, don't you?" asked Thomas finally, unable to contain his unrest any further.

"I guess," replied Carol dispassionately.

"You _guess_?!"

"Yee-ah…," said Carol slowly, just as nonchalant as the last remark. "You know how stock knowledge works. It pops up when you need it. Then again, we could dangle him name around casually and see if someone will bite."

"That's better than nothing," breathed Thomas, a bit exasperatedly and almost to a mutter. "I've got a better idea, though. We can just loosely mention ancient coinage. That way we won't be scaring him away blurting out his name left and right."

"O.K.," was all Carol said, and in a docile tone at that.

"It's amazing how you can be so relaxed in a time like this," remarked Thomas at an observation that was rather difficult to ignore in light of the circumstances they were in.

"I'm in the process of getting past the stage of being utterly worked up over things I'm not quite sure I have control of," said Carol crisply as she continued shuffling her feet along the dark road. "If I can make the river flow the way I want to, then that's fine. But if it clearly becomes a case where you won't have any power over, there's no point in beating yourself up… though the loss of control can really bug me sometimes. Besides, it saves your energy quite efficiently… and that's the effect I'm really after. And I think it's actually working."

From the looks of it, neither have the slightest clue of what they were getting into. They both guessed it was safe to assume that things can only get pretty dangerous.

The next couple of hours stretched on with nothing else going on except for the two of them keeping their eyes wide open making sure they were still on the right track to the 'Horizon Sun.' Soon thereafter, they could see clearly from their distance the most festive display of lights by far in Axides… relatively. At least, the sign that had 'Horizon Sun' written on it was well-lighted.

"Jackpot," thought Thomas, keeping his jubilation to himself.

Both invited themselves in the tavern. Fortunately for them, tonight was open house. There wasn't a single filtering bouncer about to let in only selected guests; the managers reckoned it was bad for business. Ironically, the ambiance was still a tad decent considering the crowd comprised of mine-workers and others of their caliber. Although the concoctions of every variety of alcoholic drink reeked the place distinctly, the air didn't really stink of smoke (perhaps because the air was already thin that substituting with carbon monoxide the oxygen that was just enough for sustenance was downright stupid). Half of the patrons were absorbed in a game using steel balls being played by knocking one against another on a clearing in one corner of the wide hall. A few were engaged in darts, with other people swarming around rooting for the players they placed a hefty bet on. The rest simply lounged about by the bar and at tables, swigging their favorite drinks.

Feeling conscious of their appearance and unhandy of their movements, the girl and the lieutenant tried their best to act coolly to blend in. Thomas was starting to feel an itch in his scalp from the soot his companion used as improvised hair coloring to make his mane look black. With Carol's familiarity amongst people of questionable morals, both could only hope their best that the disguises they found in the dilapidated sweatshop would keep the wool pulled over people's eyes until they are able to hightail out of the Northern continent. Taking their first few baby steps in almost made them clumsily collide with each other.

"Try to loosen up your face a little bit," instructed Carol, trying her best to curb her anxiety.

"Speak for yourself," grumbled Thomas. "You move as if you've got two left feet!"

"I do _not_ have a funny walk," reacted Carol accordingly.

"Just leave everything to me on this one for now, will you?" implored Thomas, trying to avoid an argument as if both their very lives depended upon it by changing the subject and focusing on the task at hand.

"Alright, alright," said Carol a little irately. "Forget about loosening your face up. Just try to make your eyes naturally squinty so they won't notice those exotic green eyes of yours."

"Whatever," commented Thomas, though obeying Carol's suggestion in due course. "Just let me do the talking, while you just keep agreeing with what I'm saying. It's just for this instance; you can think out loud all you want about me afterwards when we're far away from this place and safe."

"Fine," said Carol. "We've got to find him first, though."

"Right," affirmed the lieutenant. "Time to put your stock knowledge to work." Carol's vision began skimming through the place, turning her head urbanely, careful not to appear too theatrical. Thomas followed suit. He surveyed the hall as well with eyes awkwardly squinted, as Carol had directed him to do. With that, and black entirely covering the originally dirty blonde hue of his hair, he almost looked like a different person. But before he could even twist his neck to a full one-eighty, he stopped in shock as he spied an unexpected scene.

It was Van and Irvine sitting by a table a number of meters away from where they were standing! They were sipping a couple of drinks, moving their lips as if engaged in conversation, but eyes studying every feature of every one… clearly hawk-like. Thomas recognized the modus operandi in a second.

"Shit!" swore Thomas under his breath, wide-eyed, as he swiftly turned his back away from what he saw, feeling his very life-force being drained out of him, and wondering flusteredly what the heck those two were doing in Axides of all places. Carol's voice however resuscitated his breath almost immediately when he heard her say:

"I think I've found him."

Finding an opportunity open to him, the younger Schubaltz approached the bar to have a ledge to lean on. He lured Carol towards him, keeping his back turned away and face hidden from the two proclaimed Guardian Force icons present in the same room. Carol led the lieutenant's eyes to where the illusive Dagobert Mohl was at. Luckily for the younger Schubaltz, Carol appeared too preoccupied with the target that she failed to notice Van and Irvine just a modest distance behind them… thinking then again that odds are she most likely didn't cross paths with any of them in the past. He would later find out how brazenly mistaken he was.

The person they were looking for was seated also a few meters away from where Thomas and Carol stood (as if those two points, along with the spot where Van and Irvine are, formed an isometric triangle). Observing the man's features, they could appreciate him having deep nasolabial creases, a well-squared chinned, deepset eyes, and tousled short brown hair, making him look like someone in his mid-forties. Clad in the prototype Axides attire, he was sipping his drink placidly, with a faraway introspective look painted on his face. Before taking a second look, Thomas almost thought he was one step away from being inebriated, though he rationalized all the same that years of chronic alcohol intake would do that to a person… making assumptions at the same time that this guy was probably lucky to have made it this far with handling his alcohol with finesse.

Blood imbibed with alcohol Dagobert may seem to be at times, Thomas recalled Vera's initial warning of how this character could easily give people the slip, and the lieutenant understood in time that he had to avoid his direct gaze like the plague. He had the numismatic almanac ready which he intended to blurt out casually within earshot to allure the zoids-parts dealer.

"There's a vacant table just right behind him, by the window," pointed out Carol. "That seems to be a cautious point to maneuver our entry…"

"I agree," said Thomas. With that, they approached the spot informally, however with the younger Schubaltz stealthily eyeing Van and Irvine from the side of his head, making sure their eyes weren't following him and Carol. Luckily, the other lieutenant and the mercenary were momentarily distracted by a sudden burst of cheers from the darts section when a player successfully closed a bull's eye. How lucky he was he spotted those two first before they spotted him!

"I can't wait to get my hands on that coin collection," said Thomas, imitating a thrilled tone as he approached the table with Carol following just behind him, hoping he wasn't overdoing it. He always knew deep down that he sucked at acting.

"I know, dear," echoed Carol. "I just hope you can sleep tonight with all that excitement. You know how you get when you come across a thrilling find like that in those mines you work in," She apparently was a better actor than the younger Schubaltz.

"'Dear'?" Thomas mouthed with eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Just play along with it," mouthed Carol back.

The supposed couple finally sat themselves around the handy table. Thomas strategically abutted himself back to back from Dagobert's seat. Facing a glass window from where he was, he positioned at an angle that'd keep Van and Irvine's reflection on it within sight. Although the light bulb from above them was flickering, it didn't hamper him from recognizing the other two's silhouettes on the reflection.

Trying to shake the edgy feeling off, Thomas continued. "I sure hope so," he said, picking up the staged conversation from Carol's last spoken sentence. "Who would have known I'd find Bahdou-Edda coins down there of all places… well, at least that's what those bigwig experts say they are. I can't believe the nerve of them charging consultation fees just to accurately identify what time period those coins are from."

"I know," responded Carol playfully. "I mean, it doesn't take a genius to know what they are."

Thomas started finding every reason to get edgier; he just hoped Carol won't overdo it that it'd blow the lid off their plan. "Right," affirmed the lieutenant mandatorily. "Judging by how crude these coins were minted, you'd tell that those were at lease a millennium and a half year old. God knows how old these coins can be. And who'd believe too that despite how they appear, they don't have an ounce of gold in them! You'd think alchemy wasn't a pseudoscience after all. I guess secrets from the Eastern Continent will stay in the Eastern Continent after all. Well, gold or no gold, they're still valuable by virtue of time."

"Oh… no, no, no," said Carol quite unexpectedly. "This time you've got it all wrong. Alchemy? Please. I'm sure there's gold in those coins. How else would those get any value?"

The lieutenant's eyes widened once more (squinting them unnaturally can be tiresome). "What are you doing?" asked Thomas uneasily with gritting teeth, pressuredly keeping his voice in an undertone. That statement of Carol's sounded absolutely brainless coming from a smart girl like her.

"Actually, your husband's correct." It was Dagobert talking directly to Carol. His comment came completely out of nowhere, as if he just could not resist interjecting his own expertise on coinage. Thomas' eyes widened even further, both from hearing him being referred to as someone's husband, and from deciding whether or not what Carol did was the smartest thing she had ever done in the whole length of this set-up for Dagobert to go straight for the bait. In just that one moment, they finally have Dagobert dancing on the palms of their hands.

"Those who didn't know any better melted these coins and molded them into jewelry with discouraging results," Dagobert continued. "They found themselves equally disappointed in the end after finding out that these coins didn't contain any gold at all. It's an intricate mix of alloy and minerals exported from the Eastern Continent before the whole land mass got cut off from the rest of the world. Only Eastern Continent natives know the whole metallurgic process, and when it so happened that the stocks of these illustrious materials ran out eventually, and the last of the Eastern Continent citizens who weren't able to go back home to their land eventually grew old and died, the Empire had to take the coins out of circulation. No alchemy involved whatsoever."

"Interesting," said Carol, who had to admit being taken aback as well.

Turning back again after reaching for his drink from his table, he asked the disguised duo, "Mind if I join you?"

"N-not at all," answered Thomas almost speechless at the turn of events.

"Thanks," said Dagobert as he turned back yet again to drag his chair towards the neighboring table. Shifting his gaze automatically at Carol, Thomas received a wink from her, finally realizing what she had just done for him by taking that uncalculated risk.

The moment Dagobert got off his seat to move it beside Thomas', the lieutenant caught a glimpse from the window's reflection the sight of both Irvine and Van looking straight at where he and his party was sitting. He knew he had to keep things together, but with his heart rate picking up…

"So, what are you?" began Dagobert in curiosity. "Some kind of coin enthusiast or something?"

"Something like that," answered Thomas keeping his cool. "At least you've got the enthusiast part right."

Dagobert laughed enjoyably, thinking Thomas was trying to be funny. The latter, however, cared more at the moment about being able to shift his gaze towards the glass window's reflection. Just as long as Van and Irvine stayed where they were, everything would be fine, because as of now, he can't think as far ahead as what to do should the two decide to come and join them intrudingly at their table. If either Van or Irvine found out what the younger Schubaltz was up to, it'll only spell out trouble of unimaginable magnitude. Somehow, the thrill of everything was strangely keeping Thomas from collapsing under pressure… and he sure was under a lot of pressure at the moment.

"Oh, a lot of things interest him," interposed Carol to continue the flow of dialogue. "That's what I love about him." Thomas started feeling his face warm up in a blush; he wasn't at all use to hearing stuff like that.

"Ehehe," chuckled Thomas sheepishly, scratching his soot-caked head. "Hearing that makes me feel lucky we found each other, dear."

Carol chuckled genuinely in return. Thomas can tell she was starting to enjoy this whole undercover business.

Right after, the lieutenant cleared his throat and faced Dagobert with an unfaltering gaze. "After all," Thomas ventured further; now was his chance. "_Fortune manages to find the person who needs it the most._"

That was quite bewildering on Dagobert's part. After momentarily taken aback, his lips then slowly curled into a satisfied smile. "I got the goods if you got the coins with you," he said finally.

A triumphant quiver crept under the younger Schubaltz's skin. The happy feeling however didn't last long when he saw, reflecting from the glass window, Van and Irvine slowly getting up from their chairs. The sight grew even more threatening as the two slowly approached where he was sitting. His already inherently pale face became even sweatier. He argued within himself if those two will actually do something drastic like start a struggle without stirring up a riot from the rest of the tavern patrons… or else it'd be the two of them versus the rest of the crowd. No matter how much he would rationalize it, it wasn't keeping the two other Guardian Force members from shortening their distance between him and them. He felt strongly in his bones that the two were after him, afraid that they might have already found out about his illegal absence from the Red River Base that they came all the way to Axides just to collect him personally. He had to do something fast that wouldn't rein in their plan, or at least Carol's safety.

"Is there something wrong, dear?" It was Carol's voice that he heard on top of all the nerve-wracking ringing in his ears. Just then, the only thing he could voice out was…

"I need to go to the men's room!"

Sleekly, he walked away from the table with face still strategically turned away from the approaching Van and Irvine, just in time to add before departing "I'll be right back." This left behind a surprised Carol with another quizzically raised eyebrow at Thomas upping and leaving all of a sudden. "I hope those pieces of salted meat I gave him didn't make him sick," she thought.

Thomas was expecting Van and Irvine to follow him right into the men's room. He made it through the restroom door without turning his head back. Hearing the double-hinged door swing open and closed again behind him, he swiftly turned around saying "Alright, I know you two are after me. Let's get this over with then and…"

"Eh?" grunted someone totally unfamiliar to the lieutenant, who was apparently about to open the faucet of a nearby sink to wash his hands. Van and Irvine weren't following him after all. Although feeling rather silly, that relieved Thomas for a bit. But all of a sudden, he thought… if Van and Irvine weren't after him, then…

Thomas immediately scampered and peered out the restroom door, finding Van and Irvine standing around Dagobert Mohl.

Back at the table, Dagobert placidly leaned back more on his chair to have a better look at the two young men you approached. On the other hand, Carol looked stunned as she clearly recognized one of the two new faces that entered the scene. However, it didn't look like Irvine recognized Carol at the very least.

"Are you Dagobert Mohl?" It was Van who asked the first question.

"Who wants to know?" responded Dagobert calmly to the query.

"The Guardian Force does," answered Van simply, flashing a badge with the GF emblem. "There have been repeated attacks at locations in the Northern Haazthar territory, and insurgences arising likewise within the boundaries of Opporeth. We've got reason to believe that illegal zoids parts dealers have been working in concert with these insurgents; we think you can shed light on this."

"If you already knew me that well, why did you have to go through the trouble of asking me who I was?" asked Dagobert cheekily, clearly not shaken one bit by the gravity of things.

"We need you to come with us quietly," said Irvine in reply.

"I don't think so," said Dagobert defiantly. "Just because I sell hardware doesn't mean I sell them illegally."

"Please, sir," continued Irvine, still completely oblivious of Carol who was sitting just across him. "We just need information that we may find useful…"

"And what?" questioned Dagobert, almost protesting. "Throw me into jail the moment I arrive at where you plan to take me? You think I'm stupid?"

"Please do not make us resort to force, sir," went on Irvine, this time grasping Dagobert by his arm.

"Hey, what the hell?" countered Dagobert, yanking is arm back from Irvine's grasp. "I don't see a warrant on you. I'm a civilian and I have my rights! You better not lay a finger on me, damn it!"

It seemed that push was turning into shove from where Thomas was standing. He figured Van and Irvine won't be this provocative to go all out on the offensive if they have to in a place like this without any backup lurking about. In the meantime, however, the two were starting to overpower Dagobert, forcing him to come along with them. As expected, in the midst of the festive noise, everyone else in the tavern just ignored what was going on, thinking this was just another one of those instances where they had to throw out someone who had a little too much to drink. Despite the potential frenzy, Thomas had to wonder how much Dagobert is known to the Guardian Force books that they had to send Van and Irvine to take him in for questioning.

"Damn it, Thomas… think!" Clearly, the situation was getting precarious. He had to do something fast, or else all the answers he spent so much energy on looking for will merely be thrown out of the window.

In the process of the brewing struggle Thomas was witnessing, Van accidentally bumped the light overhanging the table… the one with the flickering light bulb. That was all it needed to give Thomas an idea.

Being around electricals more than half his life, Thomas surmised the main power relay system should just be nearby occupying a small room in the building. True enough, he spotted a narrow door just beside that of the restroom's; it was situated behind a concrete division that leads to some sort of back door exit, it being the most unsightly feature of the tavern's interior. His heart leaped as he guessed right about what was behind that narrow door.

With him out of the jurisdiction of everyone else's notice, he quickly surveyed the different cranks and switches that riddled the electrical panel. Seeing what he thinks is the master switch, he slapped his thermoscan goggles back on his face, crossed his fingers, grasped the switch handle, and pulled.

Everything was pitch black in an instant. The formerly festive air turned frantic at the darkness. Not having enough time to think things through, Thomas activated his thermoscan goggles and quickly ran to where Dagobert and Carol were. With him having the obvious advantage, he effortlessly freed Dagobert from his captors' grasp. With a couple of nimble foot sweeps, he easily tripped both Van and Irvine, making them fall over to the floor. After quickly clasping Dagobert's hand in one, and reaching for Carol's from the other side of the table, he hurriedly yanked them into a running pace.

Just as the lieutenant was a few feet away from where he started running from, with Dagobert on one side and Carol on the other, someone's burly and towering structure appeared out of nowhere in Thomas' thermoscanned field of vision. Shortly, a blinding light appeared. It seemed this supposedly beefy person was carrying a flashlight which he shone right into Thomas' face.

"Goddamn!" Thomas yelped in pain as the thermoscan mode of his goggles augmented the luminosity of the light that hit his face head-on to a hundredfold. With eyes reflexively shut tight and not seeing where he was going, he inadvertently bumped into the robust frame right before him, ramming his face straight into a flabby abdomen.

"Umph!" Thomas felt his body slump to the ground. Head shaken, and eyes seeing flurries of floaters, he felt an arm wrap around his waist that started carrying him away… just about how much his muffled senses would allow him to appreciate.

After a few minutes, the lights came back on with the sound of motor engines humming in the air; the establishment's emergency generator function had finally kicked in. After recovering from a moment's daze, both Van and Irvine picked themselves up from the floor. A couple of chairs were toppled over and a table was overturned, but Dagobert Mohl was no longer in the house.

"Looks like we've lost him," breathed Van in frustration.

"Damn it!" cursed Irvine vehemently. He kicked one of the toppled chairs, breaking a few of its wooden legs in half, while the rest of the people in the tavern gazed on in bewilderment. Moments later, five individuals in common casual Axides attire came running from the crowd and swarmed around the two Guardian Force officers; they were undercover Imperial and Republican soldiers regrouping with their superiors.

"This is Lieutenant Fleiheit," Van spoke eventually into an audio transmitter he was carrying. "The mission's blown. We're moving out."

(I'll try to get Chapter XVI out as soon as I can.)


	16. Chapter XVI

_I looked at the date when I last updated this fanfic. 06-04-07! It's been more than a year now. I don't think I should say more._

**Wild Card**

**CHAPTER XVI**

"W-where am I?" groaned Thomas, finally coming to his senses after realizing that he was supposed to liberate Carol and Dagobert from their would-be captors. He found himself lying on his back, thermoscan goggles pulled down to his neck, and with a sack containing God knows what under his head for a pillow. A dirty incandescent bulb was hanging overhead, feebly lighting up what looked like a storage room half-filled with more of the same rough-and-ready satchel that was cushioning his previously shaken cranium.

As his thoughts eventually gathered themselves into focus, he quickly got himself up in unrest to find out if his two other companions are still with him… only to feel lightheaded again in a matter of seconds as blood started pooling down into the veins of his legs.

"You okay there?" sounded a vaguely-familiar gruff voice Thomas was certain he had heard somewhere at some recent time. As his eyes gradually accommodated in the factually lackluster room (he could finally decipher the word 'grain' tattooed on the sacks stacked up everywhere in vertical piles, which made him presume that they were provisions for a place that fails to grow any staple food), he saw none other than Periggo from the half-way shelter he checked himself into earlier! His massive frame for one was a great giveaway.

"I'll be fine," said Thomas, straightening his thermoscan goggles that hung askew. "Fancy bumping into you… literally," he added, thinking a double-entendre riposte would suit the moment. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see him, nor was he apprehensive either. Nearby stood Carol, a bit stunned, but managing to keep her poise like the way she always had. Seated beside her was Dagobert, catching his breath, heavy mist blowing out his mouth with every lungful of air. Judging by how flushed his face was, it was either he's a total stranger to even the occasional short-distance sprint or Thomas was out unconscious only until soon after his carrier laid him down on his back.

"I'm sorry," continued Periggo, which just as much mist emancipated with every pickwickian grunt as Dagobert was blowing out. "Those men looked like they were up to no good. I thought I had to help out by getting you all out of there."

"If only I knew as well why they're here…" though Thomas to himself. That was the first time the lieutenant heard Periggo utter out anything longer than two phrases. The tone still sounded blunted as before, however. Though his contingency plans weren't turning out the way they were supposed to, it didn't seem like this unexpected turn of events had an ominous air to it either. Whether or not it was luck that put the gentle giant in that tavern tonight, it didn't seem like Periggo cared a whole lot about the happenings.

"Uh, well… thank you," said Thomas inelegantly. He had to be grateful, somehow. Recalling events when he had to grab the bull by its horns, there was always the risk of ending up dead. After all, that being the worst thing that can happen, it probably wouldn't hurt a bit to have an ally or two here and there. "Where are we, anyway?"

"In a shed where they keep truckan grain, just a fair distance away from the tavern," answered Periggo, scarcely showing any emotion.

"I see," replied the lieutenant, trying to sound interested. A fair distance away is good enough, as long as they aren't found out.

"O.K., I'll be off then to get some booze in me," said they burly giant after that, seeing no further reason to be around. Naturally, those who'd help another out of a sticky situation would be to a certain degree interested in why they got into that sort of mess in the first place. "The tavern's emergency lights should be running by now, and you guys seem to be fine," he added. "It won't be until after a month when the old man gives me another night off." The statement that didn't quite seem to fit the goings-on came out all of a sudden. With Periggo being Periggo, it clearly sounded unstressed and unaccentuated of course.

Before the lieutenant could even lay forth his two cents about the situation, Periggo had already shifted himself out of the shed with as much effort as he had empathy. After everything said, it wasn't as if he was in a rush like a scalded cat to get right back in.

"Is it just me, or wasn't that the strangest thing that just happened?" asked Thomas out loud, hoping to hear some verbal response from others present in the room. However, silence was the only feedback he got. Dagobert was still sitting on the ground, still catching his breath, while Carol walked a few steps away from him, her arms wrapping apprehensively around herself which Thomas at first thought was probably because of the cold. After seeing her looking away with a frown, however, the story changed for him. Knowing how she has been living in Axides for the past two years, he was pretty sure there was something else that happened there that he may not have readily picked up. After all, it was just Van and Irvine who came up to them; it was not like she knew them at a personal level. Still, there may be something a lot more that meets the eye for her to be placed in such disquiet.

But that wasn't the only thing worrying Thomas now. It was absolutely strange how Periggo seemed to be right where they needed him… to be where he should. Coincidental… maybe, maybe not. Somehow the younger Schubaltz had a pervasive feeling that he knew more than he should, judging by how he conveniently exited the picture. It was a feeling he did not like one bit. It seemed at face value something in the line of an obscured random act of kindness that he just couldn't put his finger on. And yet he let him go just like that. All he could do right now was to retrace his steps, making sure he hadn't said anything for the indifferent giant to suspect.

Seeing Carol start to pace uneasily, Thomas now couldn't hold himself back to ask "Are you alright?"

It looked after a while that Carol was in such deep thought that she neglected to hear Thomas' concerned question. "Carol?" called Thomas once again.

"Huh? What?" answered a startled Carol, as if woken up brusquely from a bad dream. After seeing Thomas throw her an inquiring glance then did she start to catch on.

"Are you alright?" asked Thomas again calmly.

"I-I'm fine," answered Carol succinctly, her demeanor however betraying foreboding.

"Doesn't seem like it," followed Thomas observantly.

"It's nothing," said Carol curtly. "Worry about yourself. You're the one who got knocked out."

"Oh, don't worry about me… I'm doing just fine where I'm sitting." It was Dagobert who finally spoke out, with a twinge of scorn probably budding from physical inability of keeping up with the other two in the room. Taking in breaths a lot lesser this time, he waved a ceding arm as if gesturing Thomas to help him up to his feet.

"You'll live," spat Thomas in slender vehemence as he pulled Dagobert up, indignant at the gut feeling of ingratitude he was expecting to spring out of the zoid-parts dealer's mouth at the first possible chance, hearing how he had just spoken.

"Who the hell were they?" asked Dagobert offhandedly as he shook the earth off his backside. His beer-reeking breath was starting to prove to be a bit too much for Thomas.

"They were Guardian Force officers," answered Thomas matter-of-factly.

"I know who they are, dammit," snapped Dagobert, perceiving Thomas' reply to be a tad smart-alecked. "Why the hell were they after me?"

"I don't know, you tell me," probed the lieutenant in reply, unable to keep his fact-finding instinct from kicking in.

"Look, I ain't someone with that much notoriety for them to be after me," defended Dagobert as he yanked his arm away from Thomas' supporting grasp.

'I'm starting to doubt that,' thought Thomas, with a brow already up in the air in cynicism.

"Don't give me that look," said Dagobert, who to the younger Schubaltz was starting to sound paranoid.

"Man, you're turning out to be one of the most unsociable creatures I've ever helped," said Thomas frankly.

"Whatever," snarled Dagobert. "As far as others are concerned, I'm just a lowly zoid-parts dealer, earning his keep honestly and legitimately like the rest of the peasants here in Axides…"

"That's what I thought as well until now after seeing that the Guardian Force is after you," interrupted Thomas derisively, not so much because of Dagobert's lack of appreciation, but rather for the whole Guardian Force again keeping him in the dark about this zoid's part dealer who at that point seems to appear as a distinguished figure in the books of the combined Republic and Imperial governments. Then again, to them the lieutenant was now merely someone who works at Documentations.

Dagobert narrowed his gaze at the younger Schubaltz. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?" he asked darkly.

"I'm just another interested customer for your honest business venture," answered Thomas, finally beginning to feel insulted at the tone of the ingrate struggling to keep his balance before him. Refusing to be intimidated by the likes of him, he added, "We're the ones who just saved your ass from sure incarceration, in case you haven't noticed."

"Then what the hell do you want me to do?" asked Dagobert, more in the manner of that of a wounded and cornered dog barking. "Look here, I'm done with dealing crap. Even if you kill me right here, I'm not doing it anymore…"

"What are you talking about?" asked Thomas in sudden curiosity at what he just unexpectedly heard.

"Don't act like you don't know," said Dagobert, voice sounding more defensive than ever. "That was a long time ago, alright. I was in a lot of debt… I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I'm OUT already… you hear me?"

"Look pal, I just met you," reasoned Thomas. "I don't know anything about you… well, except that you sell used zoid parts and that you fancy money in more ways than one…"

For some reason, the tenseness in Dagobert's face relaxed a bit. "You better not be feeding me with any bullsh-…"

His sentence was cut short when his face suddenly distorted into an interluding grimace. "I'll be taking that, if you don't mind," said Carol, with one hand holding Dagobert strategically in an armlock and the other holding a gun which she swiped from the zoid-parts dealer's trousers. Though it didn't seem like he was about to reach for the firearm and use it on the lieutenant, Carol thought she'd just make sure. Thomas was left awestruck. At least now he really knows that Carol is alright. In the meantime, the air became flooded with a plethora of swear words as Dagobert tried to break free without popping his immobilized shoulder out of its socket.

"Is there anything else besides ancient coinage that can stuff a cork into that foul mouth of yours?" asked Thomas. Seeing that the older man was no longer a threat to them, the lieutenant asked Carol to let go of the armlock.

"You didn't have to do that," yelled Dagobert, kneeling while nursing his sore shoulder. "That gun's not loaded! What the hell would an unloaded gun be of any use to me?"

"Hmm, he's right," affirmed Carol as she checked the firearm. "Funny how you'd bring an unloaded gun around with you."

"If you need to kill me, just go ahead and do it," continued Dagobert, relentless about thinking of Thomas and Carol as hired assassins. "You're not gonna get anything out of me. My life's good as over anyway. That empty gun's a memento of a good friend of mine that I just carry around with me for old times' sake… though it's not at all a bad idea to meet him again in the afterlife."

"O.K., we need to clear the air once and for all," said Thomas, growing impatient of keeping the conversation diplomatic. "We are not spies, assassins, or God forbid, illegal zoids dealers, or whatever it is you think of us. I just need some satellite transmitters so we can be on our way. I've got some money to pay for it, so it won't be a problem…"

"I've never seen you before," interjected Dagobert. "I have my usual customers, and they're the only ones who know the code phrase. For you to know it, either you've tortured it out of one of them and killed them afterwards, just like what those power-thirsty underground dealers do…"

"I'm not that!" growled Thomas with an angry scowl, now just taunts away from delivering a punch to Dagobert's face. "Never associated me with those people," he added threateningly.

"Who sent you?" pried Dagobert unapologetically.

While still looking darkly at Dagobert, Thomas reached for something under his garment's collar. He then extended a fist just before the zoid-parts dealer's face; a familiarly designed cross hanging from a fine metal chain came dangling in front of him when Thomas opened his proffered hand.

"Jon Copper did," answered the lieutenant. "That ringing any bells?"

Taken aback, Dagobert ultimately let out a gentle sigh as if acknowledging bitter humble defeat. Lifting his gaze back at Thomas, he asked "Let me guess, he told you I fancied ancient money?"

"Yes," came Thomas' curt reply.

"And those Bahdou-Edda coins you were talking about…" started Dagobert wistfully.

"I blurted them out audibly to lure you, since you're a major sucker to it," Thomas said with eyes narrowed, and with no reservation whatsoever. That was that one thing that made his night.

"Sneaky little bastard," muttered Dagobert. He finally got up, took his empty gun from Carol, and said (almost to the effect of an admission of guilt) "I guess I deserve it after being incredibly rude when I should be handcuffed in an interrogation room at this very moment hadn't be been because of you."

"You're welcome… and don't worry about it," said Carol unexpectedly in place of Thomas, who still seemed steamed at that point. Somehow she knew that he'd say the same in due time.

"And I take it that you guys aren't really husband and wife…"

"No," said Thomas quickly, cheeks exposing a blush.

"We're not," answered Carol evenly, in support to what the rather embarrassed lieutenant said.

"Too bad," said Dagobert after again straightening himself up. "You definitely looked believable back in there," he added, facing Carol and ignoring Thomas altogether when he spoke. "And he seems to be a good guy… could be a keeper, I should say. People try to hide a lot of things within themselves very much, but the eyes always speak the truth, being around as long as I have been." The tone sounded eerily sincere.

Thomas' face turned beet-red in seconds. 'Hello, I'm right here,' screamed his inner being in mortification. He was grandly thankful that Dagobert wasn't some body accessory tagging alongside that'd otherwise efficiently scare away all the females within range. The younger Schubaltz thought in puzzlement how the heck the cover-up looked realistic, knowing deep down that he was a sucky actor.

Oblivious of Thomas' discomfiture, Dagobert continued to say "First thing we should do is get out of this damn cold." He explained that the party should just go straight to his shop, since the Guardian Force was now seemingly hot on his tracks. It may not be at all safe right now to head straight back to his shack. Carol and Thomas unconditionally agreed to the plan. The zoid-parts dealer likewise elucidated (almost to the effect of a request) that since his stockroom was a fair distance away, added by him now very well under the radar of the peacekeeping as well, Thomas and Carol should stand on lookout as he leads them to their destination.

In a few minutes, the three of them started on their way. Twice that evening, the dark of night was taken advantage of. They all scurried on the earlier part through intricate street-mazes of the locality until it was felt that it was reasonably safe to slacken the pace. Surprisingly, Dagobert's deconditioned chest acquiesced to cooperate, making the task a whole lot easier.

Carol's eyes were practically hawk-like in surveillance, making sure to ward off anything undesirable… an instinctive behavior inculcated by the Imperial army. Thomas did the same as well, up until when the coast was relatively clearer. He couldn't keep his mind off that about the 'husband-and-wife' thing and at what Dagobert said; it sounded like he did it on purpose to the effect of making him incredibly uncomfortable in retaliation. It really felt awkward now being around Carol after what was said, though the latter didn't seem to be that majorly affected by it, by the looks of things.

"That looks like a smart thing to do… I mean, back there… keeping staple food out in the cold to keep it from spoiling… y'know, making use of the elements," began the lieutenant, trying to create conversation which he thought might help to redeem.

"It's truckan grain," said Carol, seeming to be more tranquil than how she was earlier. "It absorbs moist superbly. People here use them to keep basements dry. They even scatter it over pavements that have frozen over to improve footwear grip to keep you from slipping. It's hardly any source of sustenance."

Yet again made self-conscious about intellectually displaying his ignorance, his face simply distorted into an uneasily sheepish grin with a comical sweatdrop to top it. On the bright side, being in a stalemate he was in at the moment, at least Carol had paid due attention to the lieutenant when others usually wouldn't.

Thomas then decorously coughed to clear his throat. In renunciation, he went on and said "Look, about what that old fart said in the shed… it was pretty embarrassing… well, at least that's how I felt when I heard him say that." Carol then laid her gaze on Thomas' now blushing face as the lieutenant continued, "I'm sorry about that… and if in some way it makes you uncomfortable to be around me…"

"Don't worry," reassured Carol with an undemanding smile, as if finding Thomas' current demeanor likable. "It's common for people to often get the wrong idea about matters. That's one of those things that make them interesting." Evidently she was trying to be funny to lighten the mood and iron-out the uneasiness caused by Dagobert's extemporaneous opinion.

"Thanks," said Thomas, binds around his chest loosening up.

"No problem," answered Carol, again with an effortlessly genuine smile. She then looked back along Dagobert's way, purposefully away from Thomas. The expression on her face slowly became a bit perturbed, as if conveying a feeling of being torn apart inside. She started thinking of Irvine, whose face kept emerging in her mind, and why, at a time like this, he had to show himself again to her… and at that, without even realizing she was just right in front of him. She was beginning to have second thoughts about going back to the Red River Base in search of asylum.

As the trail went on, it seemed like the night could still become darker that it already was. Thomas thought it best to put his thermoscan goggles back on, seeing that it was increasingly harder to accommodate his vision to the darkness. At least that way, he'd be sure that his other two companions were still with him, not stumbling about on hard-to-see jagged rocks, or worse, get attacked. To the lieutenant's surprise, the area appeared to be more and more familiar. He perceived the path to be that bordering the west side of Axides… towards the place where he left his faithful beloved DiBison! The younger Schubaltz's heart started racing in anxiety, left in suspense, hoping that his zoid's hologram function did not break down from working overtime. He wouldn't know what he would do if he sees that all that's left of it were dismantled chunks of useless metal.

Several meters before reaching the spot where his zoid stayed put, the party took an unexpected detour, leading them to a causeway tangent to a steep hill overlooking the town on the face of it. Scouring through a forest of boulders, and reconnoitering several meters more past it, they eventually find themselves at the foot of a tall flight of stairs (possibly a hundred or so steps) rising toward a solemnly standing edifice.

"Hope you folks are god-fearing," spoke Dagobert eventually, making Thomas crumple his forehead perplexedly as he tried to digest the old man's phrase for something suggestive of a meaning. "Up there's a cathedral erected long before all of us were even born," Dagobert continued. "It hasn't had any visitors in so many years, and the last thing God would want is a bunch of heretics setting foot on this sanctified ground."

"Then let's hope there're metal rods up there just in case the heavens decide to send lightning bolts to smite us down," remarked Thomas impatiently, as he took the initiative to lead by starting to climb up the stairway. The others naturally followed suit without any more words said.

In a few minutes, all three of them were at the entrance at that place of worship appearing way past its heyday. "No lightning rods here," began Dagobert. "I guess we're in trouble now," he added with a chuckle in case the pun failed to sound funny. Unfortunately, both Carol and Thomas at that time weren't too big on joining in the esprit de corps.

"Believe it or not, I used to be an altar boy… not in these parts though," continued the zoid-parts dealer as he pushed the massive wooden doors open. "That was until I graduated to become reverend's assistant. That was a good few years until I was led astray by thoughts of becoming rich. Hustling became my thing, finding that I immediately was a pro in doing it. Brought me places… introduced me to people. Too bad I got mixed up with this Prozen guy, allowing myself to get manipulated by him. Before I knew it, I was already smuggling firearms to keep my neck off the chopping board."

Thomas' insides cringed upon hearing Prozen's name. But then again he wasn't surprised that his old network had such an extensive grasp.

"Money was always on my mind," went on the old man, as the three of them approached the altar at a dawdled pace. "Boy, I really had it good back then. But if people started dying because of it, it didn't seem glamorous like it used to be. So I wanted out… but that in itself wasn't easy." His face turned its melancholic side at what seems to be painful reminiscence. "Had to kill my best friend… the only person I ever trusted… with this same gun I'm carrying right now," he added stiffly. "Prozen's people maimed him so bad that he begged me to end his life. When I thought the two of you were about to kill me, I felt strangely relieved. But then I felt afraid after that. I asked myself… how could I face him if I get to see him again? If there was anything I can do to take back what I did…"

"If it was something you needed to do, your friend would have understood…" started Thomas, starting to feel a bit sorry for the old man.

"I don't know about that," said Dagobert wearily. "If I was part and cause of his suffering… maybe I do deserve a one-way ticket down the highway to hell."

Thomas was stymied. It hit him almost immediately right there that he just said supposedly comforting words only to realize he does not know of the circumstances one bit.

"You know what they say… right or wrong don't mean a thing in time of war," continued the old man. "I appreciate your concern, kid. Don't think I said what I said to make you feel bad."

"N-not at all," started Thomas clumsily. Just then, the zoids-part dealer started lunging with hands outstretched on the massive altar before them, trying to push it to one side. Thomas and Carol instinctively ran to his side to help.

Faces started to get flushed at the feeling of pushing something that felt like it weighed a ton. Effort was however not futile as the mass of wood and marble started budging. With every second thereafter, the altar slid aside a lot easier. Eventually, an opening on the floor underneath the heavy piece of ecclesiastic furniture revealed itself; Thomas at least could make out a flight of stairs leading underground given the measly supply of light there was.

"Follow me," commanded Dagobert as he went first onto the downward-leading stairs. With thermoscan goggles adjusted to keep the torches the old man and Carol were carrying from burning holes in his retina, Thomas followed, letting the other two go ahead of him.

The three walked in a queue down along the slowly spiraling track of the stairway. After several minutes of treading over the inclined footpath that smelled of earth, they came in front of another entrance, this time a computer-operated password-protected one… the kind that is found everywhere back at the Red River Base. As they entered through the door which automatically opened after a few numbers were punched by Dagobert onto the keypad beside it, the same scent of earth of early abruptly disappeared, and the ground felt a lot smoother to walk on. Seeing that the old man looked like he was reaching for a light switch, Thomas immediately removed his goggles and let his eyes adjust to the new light that emanated in all places from the ceiling.

Dozens of arrays of an assortment of zoids parts stretched meters long. Thomas let out an awestruck whistle of amazement… though deep down he felt that such doesn't even come close to describing how massively impressive Dagobert's stock is. Each part of every size and model lay side by side, carefully categorized to make finding the desired product easier. This shop has it all… switchboards, fuel purifiers, external power-source packs, shock dispersers. The list rolls on endlessly!

It looks as if the church was a cleverly constructed front. Basilicas like this seem to be ubiquitous in every old place… at least that's what Thomas noticed in Europa. Not one soul would even think a sophisticated warehouse like this actually exists within the walls of a house of worship.

"Were it satellite transmitters you said you needed?" asked out Dagobert. Without a moment's hesitation, Thomas was following right behind the old man as he started leading him to where he can find the distinguished electronic accessories… all before the younger Schubaltz even formulated a reply to the earlier-asked question.

Excitement took over. The younger Schubaltz unabashedly told the zoids-parts dealer how many he needed instead. It didn't take long for Dagobert to collect all what was asked of him; he fitted them all into a simple portable wooden box and handed it over unceremoniously to Thomas. Satellite transmitters never really took up a lot of space.

"I guess a fifty percent discount is in order," Dagobert said.

"W-wha-…" spluttered the lieutenant is disbelief at how much the mark down was. Before he could even start to speak out in protest, the old man efficiently shushed him back to silence as he began his slick businessman talk.

"Consider that as my way of apologizing for being incredibly uncouth to my rescuers," Dagobert said.

"I-I can't just accept it like this…" attempted Thomas in giving back the deal so generously offered to him, though deep down he thought with all honesty that his efforts at refusal… more to the effect of a bluff… was absolutely stupid.

"How about this," interrupted Dagobert. "Just tell me what you're going to use these for. If I don't like the answer, I'll bring the price back up."

Carol started to direct her interested glance back at Thomas, likewise awaiting for the blonde lieutenant's reply. She figured if she followed this guy far enough, she should at least be allowed to hear some answers as well.

Thomas stood motionless and silent for a few moments, silently berating himself for courteously refusing the rare generous offer in the first place, and wondering if the old man would believe the reason he was going to give, albeit earnest…

"You've no idea how much I want to get these terrorists," the lieutenant began, feeling it was futile to hide anything any longer. Both Carol and Dagobert intently looked on. "It's become personal…"

Just then, a metallic clink was heard echoing from a fair distance, distracting everyone altogether. "Who's there?" yelled Dagobert in a knee-jerk response, obviously fearing for his precious belongings. Without even thinking twice, the old zoids-parts dealer started scurrying towards where he thought he heard the noise, clearly reasoning regardless of his life.

"Are you nuts?" exclaimed Thomas as he started running after Dagobert. "Whoever that may be might be armed…"

Just then, with an air of desperation, someone clad in a fitting slick black outfit came running, knocking over a few of the accessories on display. "Hey!" yelled Thomas as he started running after the intruder, easily overtaking Dagobert with the age-limited speed the latter's sprint was allowed.

The absconder skillfully slid under the long shelves, taking advantage of the smoothness of the floor to get away from the pursuer. But with the help of his long legs, Thomas lightfootedly jumped on the shelves, knocking off more zoids parts off the display, hoping to catch the escapee upon reemergence from underneath the hollow ledges. He was forgetting his inherent clumsiness, however. In doing what he just did, the lieutenant carelessly slipped on one of the cylindrically shaped paraphernalia barring his path, making him lose his balance, sending him straight to the smooth floor. But again through some strange luck, he landed directly on the intruder just as the latter come into view from the bottom of the ledge Thomas was on moments ago.

After being stunned for a split second (this time thankfully not losing consciousness), Thomas then tried to subdue the intruder, who was fighting to break free from the younger Schubaltz's weight. Even the face was entirely clad in black fabric, naturally disabling identification. The lieutenant couldn't get his hands on the mask on account of arms swinging violently about. A startling punch landed on Thomas' face, loosening his grip on his prisoner. However, he still managed to grab hold of one of the sleeves. Unfortunately, all proved to be too late as the intruder successfully broke free from the younger Schubaltz's clutches.

The intruder's sleeve ripped off as Thomas was still clinging firmly to it. All Thomas could make out after that was a tattoo on the intruder's forearm, that looked like an 'X' superimposed on an 'O'. With the piece of fabric in his hand finally detaching from the rest of the concealing costume, the runaway started making tracks.

Still with the presence of mind, Thomas got right back on his feet and started running after the escapee. Every step of his right foot impacting the ground after commencing his chasing gallop unsurprisingly smarted the joint, which at that juncture was evidently hurt when he slipped off the shelf and fell to the floor earlier. The lieutenant gritted his teeth when he picked up his pace (seeing that the distance between him and the pursued was increasing), sucking up all the pain he was feeling right now as much as he can.

Thomas remembers being able to outrun the fastest of his classmates during his early teenage years in school. Could it be his lanky, scrawny built… he wasn't too sure. He remembered one of the members of their track-and-field team playing a prank on one of the girls, who did it by pulling away a laced ribbon that neatly tied her hair together in a smooth ponytail. Thomas remembered as well to have a big crush on this girl, and figured this was his chance to impress her… or at the very least get noticed by her. He ran as fast as he can towards the thief and skillfully yanked the laced ribbon back from his classmate's grasp… something that surprised even the younger Schubaltz himself!

Naturally, he handed the ribbon back to its rightful owner. He was unassumingly expecting, in a state of bliss, to see the girl's face with a blushing bashful expression and a gaze shyly trying to evade his. What came his way instead was a pair of tearful eyes that were pretty much portraying embarrassment of Thomas being her untimely savior. He vividly remembers the girl snatching the ribbon back from his placid clutch, and running away with her hands covering her face in sobs. The younger Schubaltz was extremely puzzled at the reaction, stymied where he stood, with hands – now empty – still extended. After getting over the momentary shock, he looked around him. A group of girls were on one side, looking on, crowding together, with hands sleekly covering their mouths in gossipy whispers. On another side were the other athletes and sporty boys looking on as well, shaking their heads with mocking smirks. In between were the ordinary folk and bookworms, walking on, trying not to get involved. Just then, it became a lot clearer: the unwritten law everyone was talking about. He learned the hard way that an inappropriately swift rise along the totem pole of popularity would only be met by suppression. Only then did he understand that he was apparently near to the bottom of it. He definitely didn't expect discovering his newfound talent to be the kind of event that would scar him for life.

His running has slowed somehow over the years. It could be age. It could be lack of practice from after abandoning the sport. Or it could just be that he wasn't getting much sleep or nutrition lately. But remembering that painful memory all of a sudden gave an unexpected burst of energy to run faster… an initiative fueled more by anger at the recollection. Ignoring the pain, he picked up his pace even more. Unfortunately, enough distance in between has already accumulated. The stealthy intruder made his way cleanly through an opening similar to the one the lieutenant, Carol, and Dagobert entered through to get into the warehouse. The outside was pitch black; luckily for Thomas, he put on his thermoscan goggles right in time before he stepped over the exit, only a couple of feet from which was a steep and sheer drop on the mountainside's face.

It seemed like the intruder's outfit was equipped with a gliding mechanism that enabled him to float down to the bottom of the mountain ridge, where a Helcat was waiting for him. With night vision enhanced by his thermoscan goggles, Thomas could tell that something was off with the Helcat's appearance. With Beek's help, he confirmed its unregistered status. Strangely as well, after making a visual diagnostic (also with Beek's help), it seemed the armament attached to the zoid, which was now accelerating towards its escape, looked significantly different. It weren't just run-of-the-mill upgrades, but rather some serious enhancements that can do a gargantuan amount of damage with one fire. It's not something one would expect with a mere registered Helcat.

"Damn it," sneered Thomas in disgust as he leaned by the exit, catching his breath. With the Helcat almost out of sight, he removed his thermoscan goggles off his face, seeing no further use of it for the moment. He knew that that encounter definitely opened a big new can of worms. It could only mean one thing… illegal zoid-parts smugglers are beginning to be hot on Dagobert's trail as well. Now he's got two people whose safety he has to be worried about.

"What have they done here?" huffed Dagobert, catching up with Thomas. Carol was following right behind him, jogging more than running now that the urgency has died down. Totally ignoring what was going on outside, the old man went straight to examine the control panel beside the now open mechanical door only to find it completely dead and nonfunctional.

"I don't know how he did it, but looks like he was able to breach security," declared Thomas exasperatedly, hating to point out the obvious.

"'He'?" asked Carol. "How do you know that was a guy?"

"I managed to rip off a sleeve," answered the lieutenant, showing Carol the torn piece of fabric. "The hair pattern and sinewiness of the arm is definitely male."

"This is not good… definitely not good," chanted Dagobert desperately, again conveniently ignoring anything else going on. He seemed on the surface like someone with too many matters in life, that having a one-tracked mind was actually protective. "I don't know how he did it, but looks like he was able to breach security," said the old man in addition.

'Didn't I just say that?' thought Thomas, face distorting in annoyance.

"I just hope none of my customers got tortured and killed for them to have found out where this place was," said Dagobert naturally simulating the cultural mores of concern in conversation, though in Thomas' opinion didn't sound genuinely worried. After powering up and manipulating a few buttons on the previously deactivated control panel, a heavy steel slab suddenly slid out from the upper groove of the exit to the floor, thus tightly sealing the orifice. "That should do it," the old man supplemented. "That should fix the problem for now."

"'Fix the problem for now'!?" reacted Thomas. "How about getting out of this place? Clearly we just had an intruder in your warehouse with security that's supposed to be infallible. You said so yourself that you've been involved with these smugglers before. That zoid that just took off is fortified with weapons that clearly have been developed illegally. Don't you think it's time to think that Axides isn't a safe place for you anymore?"

"And what?" riposted Dagobert. "Come back with you to the Guardian Force where evidently I'm on the most-wanted list?"

Thomas was stuck; he couldn't think of anything to say to counter that. He wanted to ask what all the defensive was all about, however Dagobert didn't seem to be the type to give a straight answer at this point. He'll have to wait until he gets back to the Red River Base and dig up what the Guardian Force database has on him (whatever has been gathered, that is). His curiosity has heightened to the point where the whole thing would now keep him from sleeping at night until it is finally satisfied.

"What are you going to do now, then?" asked Thomas with a bit of apprehension. "If you need any help…"

"Well, one thing's for sure… I probably won't be able to stay in my usual shop for now… not until this whole thing blows over," said the old man in unintended interruption.

"Both the Guardian Force and the underground smugglers have you in their bingo books," emphasized Carol calmly. "It's doubtful this will blow over that easily."

"Kids nowadays," commented Dagobert, a tad scornfully. "Too much misplaced worries."

Thomas rolled his eyes irritably. 'Why am I even working myself up worrying about you?' he thought.

"If there's one thing, that is… I'll probably have to move," said Dagobert in continuation. "It's just to bad I have to move out of this place after ten years. I've kinda taken a liking to this miserable place."

"What are you talking about?" asked Thomas. "Wouldn't that take weeks to do?"

"This whole room…," started Dagobert, walking expressively more like what a museum curator would do. "This whole room is a vessel. It's a Baratz zoid that can burrow through solid rock. If the right place is found, it digs its hole to place itself in, and it strategically hides itself from the open. Kinda neat, huh?"

The lieutenant was just dazzled at the inappropriately untroubled mien of the old man after just being broken in. Then again, it didn't seem like he needed Thomas or Carol's help.

"I'd love to keep you here a little while longer for some refreshments," reopened Dagobert, this time with seriousness in his tone. "But given this unexpected turn of events, I'm afraid I may need to make my big move tonight."

Dagobert then led Thomas and Carol back up the winding footpath to the surface. The younger Schubaltz was never really good at any spiel, and it didn't seem like now was the right time to start learning. All he could hope now is that the old man would manage to keep himself safe and not let the whole thing of not being able to help eat into his guilt.

The three of them finally emerged from the opening they initially entered. "Please, don't worry too much on my account… seriously," reassured Dagobert, as he started noticing the unsettling look on Thomas' face, while receiving the payment for the satellite transmitters. "I'm a grown man. A fuddy-duddy like me can take care of myself."

Thomas then lifted the box filled with the electronic paraphernalia he newly purchased over his right shoulder as soon as he and Carol stepped into the cold Axides outdoors. "Keep safe now, youngins," Dagobert bade shortly before he secured the door shut.

"I should be the one to tell you that," muttered Thomas as he went on his way down the mountainside, thermoscan goggles back on, to reunite with his DiBison. He had a sickeningly sinking feeling that that was probably the last time he'll see the zoid-parts dealer alive.

He didn't forget his deal with Carol. How he'll spend the next several hours inside the DiBison's cockpit alone for the first time with a woman is the least of his problems at present (although the fleeting thought of it made him blush a bit). He'll have to fabricate a hell of a good explanation once he gets back to the Red River Base, and he's got only several hours to do it. Right now, his mind was too worn out that he could not come up with anything. He just felt that this time there wouldn't be luck working at his side.

The lieutenant, with Carol following behind him, finally came to where he left his faithful zoid. His heart raced violently as he readied to deactivate the hologram function, which he installed with Sebastian's help. His legs began feeling like jelly in relief after seeing that the artillery zoid is still present in one piece. Carol was naturally awed at the sight of the towering DiBison as it suddenly came into vision from concealment. All the outpouring bottled-up excitement of not seeing a zoid for a long time made her seem like a little naïve child totally unfamiliar with the concept of restraint.

After finally making Carol settle down, the two of them climbed into the DiBison's cockpit. The amount of time it took Thomas to venture across the continent with his zoid's speed to get back to the Red River Base was about the same as how long it took for him to reach the Northern parts.

It was an hour to daybreak when they finally arrived at the Red River Base. Being all to familiar with the security mechanism of the base itself, Thomas used it (through Beek) to his advantage by painting his zoid invisible from the base's radars, allowing him to approach – under the cloak of the installed stealth function – undetected and without stirring up a commotion. With some minor modifications, he managed to distract the front gate guards into thinking that it was time for the relief switch.

The lieutenant's apprehension wasn't over yet even after he replaced the DiBison's hologram stand-in (which fortunately was still functional after working overtime) with the real thing. He wasn't sure what to do now with Carol. He thought about keeping her in his room… but for how long, God knows. Before he could think of something else, the very life of him quickly escaped him as he heard a familiar voice coming from behind…

"You look perfectly fine for someone with the flu." It was Major Rob Herman, clearly with a stern (and perhaps a disappointed) expression on his face.

"Oh, shit!" swore Thomas under his breath, frozen on the spot by Herman's austere watch. Simple exclamatory profanity wouldn't amount to the gravity of the situation his is in at the moment. With Carol at his side clutching his sleeve in unrest, he knew fully now how very, very serious the matter he got himself in is.

_After more than a year, I've finally got this chapter out!! It's not as long as the previous ones, unfortunately. Curse my workload killing my creative power. That gave me the worst case of writer's block. At least I got over one of those insurmountable humps where I thought I couldn't add anything to keep the flow of this story fluid. Hope you enjoyed. Chapter XVII I will be releasing in time. Bear with me as I try to tame this new monster called adulthood._


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