So moe for Makoto it's funny.
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Location: NC, NJ, MN
Rank: Ace Attorney
Joined: Tue Feb 27, 2007 4:24 am
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Rawr, Chapter One of this…
behemoth.In case it wasn’t clear by the first post, the Gyakuten MECHA project is a
complete retelling of the first three Gyakuten Saiban / Phoenix Wright games, in a science fiction / ‘giant robots! anime’ setting. Though, it’s not exactly game for game, as, uh, you’ll see in a bit.
Pretty much every single character from the series will have at least SOME role in GyakuMECH, some more prominent than others, of course. So if there’s a character you’re oddly fond of, worry not! They’ll be in this thing! :P
There will be characters from Gyakuten Saiban 3 / Trials and Tribulations in this story (yes, even in the first arc) … but as they’re not in the situations they are in the game, it’s really only a personality/appearance thing, and are minor spoilers at best.
Finally, I actually have a HUGE request—we’ve got a great crew working on this already, whether it comes to writing or the art side of things. However, especially with art, we’re always looking for more people to come contribute what they can to the GyakuMECH project!
Specifically, there’s a minor art project alongside the raging beast that is GyakuMECH, which we’ve dubbed “Project Stargazer.” If you’re an artist who’s pretty good with a pencil/tablet/whatever… and you might be intrigued in just helping out by contributing a single (or multiple, if you’d like!) pictures, please drop me a line at
cantfakethefunk@gmail.com, with some examples of your artwork!
“Stargazer” will officially start next chapter, though, so if you’d like to wait off until then to see what it’s all about, you can do that too. Next chapter, too, will feature the introduction of another side ‘project,’ the wonderful and amazing Urby’s
“Go For It, Phoenix!”(Yes, the name is a blatant ripoff… er… homage.)
Hm. I think that’s just about it…
Enjoy the show!
(And please comment/review. Comments and reviews nourish my soul.)
The Ties That Bind
Chapter One
End of December, 4001
CalypsoIt was cold on the large moon of the water planet Odyssey, as winters often were. Still, despite the frost on the ground and the snow that would gently drift from the overcast gray skies, a child’s enthusiasm is not often dampened by such things. The three friends—Phoenix Wright, Larry Butz, and Miles Edgeworth—in absence of schooling for their winter break, would meet every day at the corner near Phoenix’s house to band together for the day’s adventure.
Until one day, Miles Edgeworth didn’t come.
That in itself was nothing unusual—perhaps he’d caught a cold from the winter chill? Certainly not out of the question. However, when Phoenix and Larry went to the small house that was Miles’ home to visit their undoubtedly sick friend, there was nobody there. Even
that wasn’t all that strange. They’d all run away from home at times, and in fact Larry had once been prone to entering hysterics and fleeing home multiple times a week. Surely, Miles would return within a day.
He didn’t.
Nor did he return the next day. Or within a week.
Though the two remaining friends kept meeting at the same place at the same time every day for the next month, Miles Edgeworth did not join them. Even after school resumed, Phoenix would wait at the same street corner like he always did, often accompanied by his absent-minded blond friend. It made no sense. How could someone who was always there just vanish? Surely, he’d be there
today if nothing else!
But Miles Edgeworth never came back.
-------
November 3rd, 4016, 1343 Ship’s Time
Alliance Cruiser ARS Kurain
In the Asteroid Field surrounding MuspelEven though it was really just a hunk of metal, and he’d only been attached to it for less than eight months, the large white bulk of the
Kurain really did seem like home. Phoenix gingerly guided his own hunk of metal and circuitry through the treacherous belt of spaceborne rock that surrounded the immense gas giant Muspel, weaving in and out between the slowly spinning asteroids that had provided him with the cover he’d needed in his minor skirmish not moments ago.
The
Kurain was a rather large flat wedge, like one gigantic airplane wing that didn’t quite have a fuselage in the middle. The space near the ship was relatively clear of asteroids (their weapons techs had done an almost-
too-thorough job when they’d first arrived), though if Phoenix looked closely he could watch the smaller rocks bouncing off the ship’s kinetic shielding with bright blue energy sparks and an imaginary ‘spang!’ in his head. The young pilot’s hands gently and deftly worked the familiar controls, steering his mech under the large craft to the main hangar.
As he passed through the invisible magnetic field that kept all the air and good things that made life possible ‘in’ (and most of the minor, life-threatening things in empty space that weren’t exactly helpful to most living things ‘out’), Phoenix felt a little “pop” around him as he always did. Giving an extra-hard twist to the dark red handle on his right side to ensure that his craft’s plasma wings were most definitely and completely ‘off,’ the pilot landed expertly and smoothly, and—now that he no longer had to worry about controlling a giant engine of destruction—reached up to pop the seals on his helmet and placed it to the side of his pilot’s chair.
Phoenix heaved a little sigh as he ran a gloved hand through his spiky black hair, relishing the feeling of relatively fresh air in his lungs other than the stale recycled stuff in his flight suit. Still, the suit would keep him alive if something went wrong, so he supposed he couldn’t complain
too much.
Giving a quick check around the cockpit to make sure everything that should be off was off, the spiky-headed pilot unbuckled the straps holding him to the craft’s control seat and hit the control to pop the main entranceway. In front of him, a crack of bright light formed at the top of the door (he had to hold up a hand in front of his face until his eyes adjusted) and slowly grew bigger with the soft whir of servos. The front of the cockpit opened outwards and downwards, becoming a platform of sorts for him to exit the craft onto the pilots’ scaffolding in front of him.
Before he left his ship, Phoenix paused and looked back in at the mostly-dark cockpit with a frown on his face. “RYUUICHI,” he said out loud at last. “Do you think you could run a diagnostic on the lateral thrust controls for me? It felt a bit ‘sticky’ out there today.” Oh sure, the lateral movement hadn’t really hindered him at all, but he could feel something strange, and even a little bit of strangeness in a multi-ton war machine wasn’t quite good for business.
With a beep, the AI acknowledged him in its strangely-human voice, “Of course, Lieutenant Wright.” A series of running lights on the main console lit up like a holiday tree, indicating that the AI was busy with its new task.
Phoenix caught the eye of the Deck Officer below and tossed him a short if friendly wave. The Deck Officer, whose job it was to regulate all the more boring aspects of flight—logging times, coordinating mechanic work, et cetera—was a fairly non-descript brown-haired man who managed to be rather friendly and yet quite stern at the same time. Really, though, Phoenix liked him. He was a real pro at his job, after all.
“Wright, the Captain sent down a message for you,” called the Officer in his deep voice. “She’s a bit busy discussing things with Commander Kaminogi right now, so she’ll send for you when it’s time for the debriefing. So just hang tight for a while, or go get something to eat.”
“All right,” returned Phoenix, scratching his head with a frown as the Deck Officer returned to his duties. Well, then… he’d been supposing he’d take care of his debriefing first, but if he had time, he might as well put it to good use. The young pilot spun 180 degrees and returned the way he’d come, heading back to his mech.
Okay, technically it was the Fusegi Alliance’s mech. But it was often said that pilots formed a bond with their machines, and Phoenix Wright was no exception. He’d grown attached to this ‘hunk of metal’ over the months he’d been piloting it. It was about 70 or so feet tall, easily dwarfing him (in fact, even the pilots’ scaffolding barely came up to the cockpit nestled in its “chest”, and it was a good 45 feet off the ground!)… of course, if you counted the three back-swept golden crests on the “head” of the machine, that number got even higher.
It was, like most mecha used for space combat, humanoid, and given its speed tended to the more slender end of the spectrum—though it was fairly well armored, and Phoenix was embarrassed to admit that if that hadn’t been the case, his career as a pilot would have been much shorter than he’d have liked (along with his life.) However, given the crests that looked almost like a plume, the large, almost winglike “shoulder” compartments that housed his two auxiliary miniguns, and the fact that the armor on the “head” gave it a more pointed, beak-like appearance than a human face… Phoenix thought it looked rather avian. Particularly when he’d engaged the plasma wings, though that would be a fairly poor idea inside the ship’s atmosphere.
Especially given its fiery, red-yellow-and-orange color scheme, Phoenix Wright thought its name was rather fitting. Apparently, ages ago on Old Earth, the Huma had been a mystical bird worshipped by some group of people called the ‘Persians,’ a bird that was a blessing of good luck and immortal to boot, restoring itself in a burst of fire upon death. All in all? Having an immortal good-luck symbol as your ship in an interplanetary war seemed to be a fairly good thing.
Still, immortal fire-bird or not, that sticky lateral thrust would be a pain in his neck if unchecked. RYUUICHI was a powerful AI and the task hadn’t exactly been what one would call taxing—by the time Phoenix returned, the lights were blank, indicating that the diagnostic had been finished. “Did you find anything?”
Even though Phoenix had turned the visual representation off, he could imagine the AI shaking its head as it responded, “Negative. No irregularities detected.” Not all mech AI constructs talked in such a formal tone of voice—it depended on the personality of its original human base, of course—but no matter how many times Phoenix told this one to knock it off, it didn’t.
However, the frown on Phoenix’s face wasn’t due to the AI’s irritating speech habits. That was odd. The diagnostics were usually fairly thorough. “And you ran a complete analysis of all systems that could be the issue?”
“Affirmative.”
Phoenix sighed to himself. Really, the more advanced technology seemed to get, the more problems popped up right alongside it. Well, he had time, and there really was no substitute for some old-fashioned hands-on work. Granted, he wasn’t the best mechanic, but he knew his stuff, especially when it came to the Huma. “RYUUICHI, can you pop the dorsal service ports?” There was a beep of acknowledgement and a hiss of hydraulics from further back on the fire-colored robot as the access panels slid open.
The young pilot leaned into the cockpit to unclasp the toolbox fastened securely to the wall by the floor, and holding it in one hand, gingerly walked along the small ledge that led around the Huma’s body from the main door to the dorsal service hatches. He was all too aware of the ground 45 feet below, after all. Thankfully, there was significantly more stable ground in the back of the craft where the access panels had opened, and Phoenix crouched down, setting the toolbox down on the ground and preparing to enter the crawlspace.
“Wright!” came the deep voice of the Deck Officer from below. “You doing maintenance? Need me to get a mechanic on that?” He really
didn’t miss anything—quite a pro at what he did, thought Phoenix for the second time.
“No, it’s all right!” Phoenix called back. “I’m just doing a little check-up of my own.” Besides, even though it was selfish and a little bit irrational… the Huma was his ship. He had that connection to it, and actually found himself not liking people who weren’t him messing around with its workings. After all, he was the one who had to fly the damn thing into the heat of combat, and he wanted it working just the way he liked it.
Phoenix returned to the crawlspace that gave him access to the servos that controlled the left-side thrust cluster, taking his gloves off and tucking them into one of the pockets of his dark blue flight-suit. Okay, yeah, the suit wasn’t exactly meant for this, but it was sturdy and not entirely uncomfortable, and it was better to get oil and grease on this than his normal jacket, right?
He grabbed a spanner from the toolbox, put a small flashlight between his lips, and looked to see if he could find anything out of the ordinary.
The pilot had long gotten over the feeling of intense claustrophobia in the small crawlspace, but it was still cramped lying on his back in the tunnel, surrounded by gadgets and gizmos of every size and color. Phoenix thought to himself as he shone the flashlight at the various devices, trying to piece together what could be screwing up this time.
It’d been most apparent when moving to the right, so perhaps it had to do with the left thruster control? He shifted onto his side, the flashlight in his mouth illuminating a series of red wires and circuits… but though he looked at them carefully, and prodded a few to make sure they were securely connected, nothing looked out of place.
“NICK! HEY, NICK!”
The loud voice from outside the Huma’s crawlspace startled him, and Phoenix reflexively tried to sit up—and then hissed in pain, lying back down on his back once more as he gingerly cradled the part of his spiky head he’d just bumped against the top of the tunnel.
Geez, that smarts… As Phoenix lay there fighting the throbbing pain in his forehead, the voice continued—a male voice, with a sort of hysterical bent that Phoenix Wright knew all too well. “C’mon Nick, I know you’re there!” Naturally he recognized the voice, having heard it in various forms since he was four years old. Though little sparks still danced in his vision, the young pilot slid his way out of the service crawlspace, sitting up (continuing to press his hand to his forehead) and giving a side.
“I’m over here, Larry,” called Phoenix reluctantly, making sure to grab onto a little handle on the side of the Huma as he stood up. Though he was a bit dizzy, he knew Larry well enough to know that trusting him on a small catwalk above a 45-foot drop wasn’t the best idea one could make. Phoenix sidled along the ledge alongside his mech until his friend came into view.
Over the years, Phoenix had seen Larry Butz in many various states of emotion, though his excitable, even hysterical nature had remained a constant. He was spacey, easily excited (and even more easily distracted), and not even Phoenix—who’d known him for over two decades now—knew what he was thinking at times. Yet despite that, he meant well, was a (usually) dependable friend, and a competent wingman. Plus, Phoenix would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t a little bit attached to the guy.
Currently, Larry wasn’t wearing his garish orange flightsuit, instead clad in his just-as-garish and just-as-orange jacket and thankfully-less-deafeningly-loud black slacks. He was standing on the pilots’ scaffolding, and he looked to be… crying? “Nick!” he cried as he saw his friend. “Nick! You gotta help me, Nick!
Phoenix sighed to himself, running a hand through his black hair.
Aww geez. Not again. “Larry… did you get dumped by,”
Ack! Was it… was it Hilary? No, it was… “Kiyance? Is that what happened?” His overly-excitable friend had a predilection for getting into relationships with attractive and temperamental women—and getting out of them just as quickly.
For a second, Larry’s face sobered up into a quizzical frown. “Kiyance? What? No, man, Kiyance was like… a month ago! It was Cindy, Nick! Cindy dumped me!” he returned to crying, the tears trickling down his face and sparkling in the white fluorescent lights of the hangar.
Oh, right, Cindy. He expects me to keep all of them straight…?“Er… I’m sorry to hear that, Larry,” said Phoenix, resting a hand on his blond friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else…”
That is, if we haven’t already run out of female spotters on the Kurain,
of course! That was
also a penchant of Larry’s. Almost every mech pilot was assigned their own personal spotter, who’d watch the “big picture” for them, warn them of anything they might not have seen, and in general just watch their back. For his friend, though? He always requested female spotters, and almost always, invariably, fell for them.
So, for Larry, his spotters were almost more of a distraction than anything else, and Phoenix had been forced to bail his wingman out of more than one sticky situation resulting from the absent-minded blond man flirting with his spotter instead of paying attention to the battlefield.
“Hey, Larry,” volunteered Phoenix at last, “You know… maybe you don’t always have to date your spotters, right?” This of course was true, and if Larry kept ending up on the bad sides of the
Kurain’s female crew, there might not be any more willing to take him as their pilot before long, anyway!
“What?!” there was a sparkle other than tears in Larry’s eyes now, and Phoenix repressed a sigh, because he knew that look well. “How can you say that, Nick?! There’s a bond—a special bond between support crew and pilot that nothing else can equal! It’s a bond of trust, I trust her with my life! It’s beautiful, there’s nothing possibly stronger than it in the
entire universe, Nick! How can I possibly say no to that!”
It’s not like I actually expected that to work, anyway. “Well, then… maybe you should request a male spotter for next time? Just, y’know, for a bit of variety?”
Larry straightened up, tilting his head to the side and looking at his black-haired childhood friend, an expression on his face that fell somewhere between utter confusion, deep shock, and a bit of disgust. “W-what? A guy? Nick… what are you saying? You think I’m…?! Nick, man, I’m not into that!”
“That wasn’t what I—nevermind, Larry,” Phoenix sighed audibly. “Nevermind. You’ll get over Cindy, you know. You always do.”
The blond pilot wrung his hands together. “Well, yeah, but… she dumped me, Nick! Why’d she do such an awful thing! She was my sweetie!”
Oh, I haven’t the foggiest… “I’m sure she… just had things to work out on her own,” Phoenix assured his friend. “Trust me, she’ll come to her senses in no time.”
And request a transfer. With a sniff, Larry shook his head, using the sleeve of his bright orange jacket to wipe away the traces of tears from his cheeks. “I guess… you’re right, Nick. You always are. What a pal!”
“Thanks, Larry. Say… I’ve got to get back to—” but Larry was already walking away, a more noticeable spring in his stride even now. Phoenix fell silent, hand still frozen mid-air where it had been resting on Larry’s shoulder as he watched his friend leave, feeling the throb in his head start to ache even stronger.
He shrugged and sidled along the catwalk once more to return to the crawlspace. Maybe he should check the thrust compressors on the left side, too…
However, the thrust compressors seemed to be absolutely fine. As did the accelerator circuitry, the spatial response failsafe switches, and even the redirection inducers… though the right inducer did have a few slightly loose bolts, but they were only a bit loose and Phoenix didn’t think the inducer had much of an effect on lateral thrust, he tightened them anyway.
Phoenix was still searching for a definite cause to his problem when a second voice called out his name. “Hey, Nick! Are you there?”
For the second time that day, he reflexively tried to sit up—and then with a bonk and a groan, sank back to the ground clutching his forehead, really wishing he hadn’t. He could have sworn that the stars were supposed to be
outside the ship, not inside his mech, really…
“Nick!” the voice was calling, and this time it was female, and significantly less hysterical (though no less energetic) than Larry’s. It was also a voice that Phoenix knew quite well.
What does she want? asked Phoenix mentally as he slid out of the service entrance, nursing his second collision-induced headache and standing to his feet once more.
However, before he could climb around the side of the Huma yet another time to go meet this new intruder… it seemed she’d decided to seek him out instead. Sticking her head out around the side of the fiery-colored mech, Maya Fey beamed when she saw Phoenix. “There you are! You…” she fell silent for a moment, looking at the rather magnificent bump on his head. “You okay, Nick?”
“…Yeah, I’m fine,” Phoenix said at last, shaking his head and stepping back, giving Maya room to join him on the service platform. “Just… just bumped my head, is all.” The girl stepped into full view, though she was holding her hands behind her back.
Is she hiding something? “What’s up, Maya?”
Maya’s face was cheerful as always, and she was certainly a welcome change from his hysterical last visitor. Whereas Larry’s relationships with his spotters tended to last exactly as long as his personal ones (which, obviously, wasn’t very)… Maya had been Phoenix’s spotter almost as long as he’d been on the
Kurain, and he’d admittedly bonded with her over the months.
She was energetic (spunky, even), cheerful, warm, and also one damn good spotter. Though Phoenix really didn’t know all that much about it, he knew that Maya’s family (naturally including her older sister, the Captain Mia Fey) were known for having a… sort of sixth sense, as it were, an ‘awareness’ that served particularly well in a battle sense. It was part of what made the elder Fey sister such an able commander, but it also made the younger Fey someone Phoenix was glad to have at his back.
His spotter was in her usual purple and lavender jumpsuit that she often wore around the
Kurain (not because she was expecting to do any exercise, but because it was comfortable, she’d told him). However, her long black hair that she wore in a loosely gathered tail was topped by a snow-white officers’-style cap. Obviously, that wasn’t hers.
In a swift motion, she swung her arms out from behind her back, a silvery box contained in her hands, which she presented to Phoenix proudly. “Ta-da! Sis told me you’d been out on patrol for a few hours, so… I brought you lunch!”
Well now, he certainly hadn’t been expecting
that… but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome, and Phoenix realized that his stomach had been growling. It had been hours since he’d last eaten—but one really didn’t think about such things when in the cockpit of a giant war machine, after all. “Thanks, Maya. I was getting hungry.” He smiled at her, taking the silver container from her—he could feel the warmth from the self-contained heat-source through the outer shell, which felt quite nice against his hands.
…however, it wasn’t entirely sealed like it was supposed to be. A corner of the foil up in the top right had been peeled back. With a frown, Phoenix opened the rest of the container to find that there was certainly less of his “mashed potatoes” (really just flavored protein, but certainly not unpalatable and surprisingly accurate in taste) than there should have been.
Phoenix looked down at her, arching a black eyebrow wordlessly, though the bemusedly-irritated expression on his face that he knew Maya knew quite well spoke volumes. Though he didn’t say a thing, the girl got the message. “I was hungry,” she said defensively, putting a hand on her hip. “And I’d already finished mine!”
Shaking his head—though the sudden flash of pain from his temples made him vow to not it again for the next hour or so—Phoenix chuckled softly, sitting down on the edge of the service platform, dangling his legs over the ledge. He wasn’t
that hungry, really.
He looked up at where she was standing, indicating the white cap crowning her black hair with a tilt of his head. “That’s your sister’s, isn’t it?”
Maya nodded, smiling down at her pilot again. “Yep! …so?” she asked, though the smile never left her face. “I think it looks good on me, Nick!” the young Fey sister reached up to grab the black brim and playfully tilt it down inclining over her face, striking a silly little pose as she did so. “Someday, right? ‘Captain Maya Fey’… what do you think about that, Nick?”
I think I’m going to keep my mouth shut. “…maybe when you’re your sister’s age,” shrugged Phoenix as he continued to eat the meal she’d brought him.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” pouted Maya, as she sat down beside him, straightening the cap on her head. Phoenix could see her peering over at his rations out of the corner of his eyes. She really wasn’t very subtle when it came to food. Nor was she very subtle when it came to, uh, anything else, really.
“You already had some,” he reminded her. “Besides, didn’t you have… uh… training of some sort to go to, today?” Phoenix still wasn’t clear on if it were training or just schooling of some sort, but he knew that with some exceptions—say, a battle—Maya would usually be busy around this time.
She shook her head, her long black hair flying wildly. “Nope. Well, not until 1400, anyway.”
Maya paused, quiet for once as she seemed to be thinking. “Hey Nick,” she ventured, and there was a slight tone of uncertainty in her voice. “…what time is it?”
There was an audible ‘squawk’ and then a pop as the ship-wide intercom turned on. Phoenix reflexively looked up at the ceiling where the large speakers were installed, curious as to what would be said.
A slightly-tinny, harsh-sounding female voice came over the speakers, said one phrase, and then fell silent with a second pop indicating the intercom was turned off. “Will Maya Fey report to the training center
on the double?” Beside him, he could see Maya visibly flinch and then stiffen up. Phoenix turned to her, raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he continued to eat.
After a split second of remaining frozen, she scrambled to her feet and then practically dashed out of sight around the Huma—but then stopped, poking her head back around. “Sorry for eating some of your lunch!”
He heard the clanking of her shoes on the pilots’ scaffolding as she ran off in quite a hurry, desperate to avoid being
too in trouble. It would be even worse for her, Phoenix supposed, given that she was the Captain’s little sister. Mia’d probably give her a talking-to, anyway.
Phoenix finished the rest of his lunch in relative peace and quiet without being disturbed, and then decided to give the mechanic-ing one last try. Machines could be so temperamental sometimes…
After being interrupted twice and suffering blunt trauma both times, the pilot from Calypso was oddly prepared for the third. “Wright!” came the deep voice of the Deck Officer calling up for him. This time, Phoenix simply slid out from the maintenance crawlway without injuring himself (which wasn’t all that much to be proud about, but he took pride where he could get it).
The pilot stood up, peering down into the rest of the hangar bay where the blue-suited officer was looking up at him. “Yes?”
“Captain’s called for you. Head up to her office!”
Phoenix nodded an affirmative, and turned to go—but then remembered that he’d left his tools in the maintenance crawlspace. He crouched down to collect them all and put them in the toolbox, tightly shut and clasped the box, and then stood back up. However, he’d forgotten about the open access hatch above him, and with a magnificent “clang,” the metal met the back of his head.
Fighting the urge to swear, Phoenix grabbed the back of his head with his free hand, closing his eyes tightly and leaning up against the hull of the Huma, waiting for the continuous throbbing to let up a bit. He supposed he should be somewhat thankful that it was the back of his head this time.
At least I’m giving myself evenly distributed concussions.Once the world finally stopped spinning, he went to put away his tools and go meet the Captain as ordered.
-------
The buzzer that indicated someone was waiting outside her office door sounded. Without looking up from the data-display on her desk, Captain Mia Fey called, “Enter,” and heard the door slide open.
“Phoenix Wright reporting as ordered, Captain.”
Mia looked up at the young pilot she’d grown fond of over the past few months, and favored him with a small smile, keeping her exhaustion from her face. He was standing just inside the doorway in a formal salute, and she could see spots of grease and oil on his blue jumpsuit. “Come in, Wright. Sit down.” She gestured to the seat in front of her desk.
Her office wasn’t large—space was a luxury on a warship, and there was no point in being more extravagant than she had to. It was mostly empty, though there were various pieces of art hanging from the walls, and a potted plant over in the corner that was oddly peaceful to water. Her desk, likewise, was clear other than her work equipment and a simple holographic photo. The photo was of Mia and her younger sister, clearly much younger. Both of them were laughing at a moment long forgotten, though the picture always made her smile when she looked at it.
The young pilot relaxed, and moved to sit in the white chair. Mia noticed he seemed to be wincing as he moved his head, but said nothing. She indicated the grease on his flightsuit with a wave of her hand. “Doing a bit of mechanic work?”
Phoenix nodded, a bit of a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, didn’t have time to get cleaned up first… and when I was out there, the lateral movement felt a bit ‘sticky,’ I guess. Tried to see if I could poke around and find what was wrong, since the diagnostics turned up blank.”
The Captain frowned, absentmindedly taking off her white officer’s cap and straightening her long brown hair as she spoke. “Sticky? Did you check the thrust compressors?”
Nodding again, Phoenix shrugged. “That was the first thing I really checked.”
“…what about the accelerator circuits?”
“Those were the second. The inducers had a few loose bolts, but I don’t think that was the problem.”
Mia paused in thought, before shaking her head. “That shouldn’t be it, you’re right. I’ll send a mechanic down to check it out, okay?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I’ll… I’ll poke around a bit after we’re done here.”
There was another pause as Mia smiled softly and knowingly, shaking her head. “Oh, Wright. Don’t want anyone messing around with your mech, do you?” She chuckled warmly to herself, “pilots are all the same. I was like that, too.” Dropping the subject, she swiveled in her chair, tapping at the console to her right and looking at some information that just had popped up on the screen. Though she did her best to conceal it, Phoenix could see the frown that momentarily crossed her attractive face, but he said nothing.
“Anyway, I won’t keep you long. Just need you to confirm what we saw here. You were out on patrol, when a Federation skiff Jumped in and released four mecha to scout the asteroid field, correct?”
Phoenix nodded in affirmation. “Yes. I’m fairly sure that two of them were AI-controlled, but two of them were manned. They were moving in a search pattern, like they were looking for something.”
Mia was silent in thought for a second before she slowly nodded to herself. “All right, I see. You engaged all four, and took them out in a matter of seconds. Quite impressive, Wright.”
He looked embarrassed, and reached up to scratch at his spiky black hair—but winced as he did so. “I had the advantage of surprise, and they were older, mass-produced models…”
The Captain raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face. “Wright… learn to take a compliment. You flew extremely well out there today, and you’ve only been getting better.”
His face flushed slightly, but he nodded in acceptance. “Thank you, Captain.”
“So… you think they knew we were here?”
Phoenix thought for a moment, and then responded, certainty in his voice. “They knew
something was here, but I can’t say if they were looking for us directly, or they just happened to come across us.”
“Understood. Thank you, Lieutenant Wright, that’ll be all.” Mia smiled at Phoenix again. “You’re dismissed. Go back to tinkering with your mech… oh, and Wright? Put some ice on those lumps. They look painful.”
Phoenix Wright stood, gave her a salute, and then left her office, the door sliding closed behind him with a barely audible whisper.
Once he was gone, Mia Fey sighed to herself, tugging once on her snow-white Captain’s tunic to smooth the wrinkles, and then sinking back into her relatively comfortable chair, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Really, she hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep in the past three days…
The buzzer sounded again, and she was fairly sure she knew who it was. “Come in,” she called. The door slid open, proving her guess right. It was her First Officer, Commander Souryuu Kaminogi. Kaminogi was a tall, slim man with dark skin and a neatly trimmed black goatee that wasn’t
quite regulation, but Mia let it slide. He was clad in the uniform that high-ranking male officers in the Fusegi Alliance were issued, with a neatly clasped white tunic with rank insignia over the left breast and black, cleanly pressed slacks below that. However, Mia always felt that the way Kaminogi wore it made it seem more like a dapper suit than a military uniform… but as to exactly why? Well, she’d never quite been able to place it.
He wasn’t wearing the white officers’ cap, though Mia didn’t quite think it would have comfortably fit over his bushy black hair anyway. Still, she was admittedly glad that he didn’t cut it, because it looked good on him.
“Souryuu,” she said at last, “Do you think you could bring me a cup of coffee?” She’d been able to hide her fatigue from Phoenix, but Kaminogi was another story entirely. Mia was rarely able to conceal her feelings from her second-in-command even when they weren’t involved with one another. Now? He could read her like a book, and it really wasn’t worth the effort.
“Of course, Cap’n,” he said with a little flourish, crossing to the far corner of her office and engaging the machine that would instantly brew a steaming pot of caffeinated goodness. He poured her a mug, and one for himself, then returned, setting the cup on her desk. Kaminogi went and sat in the seat Phoenix had vacated minutes before—though unlike Wright’s formal posture, he was almost…
lounging. “So,” he said at last, taking a long smell of the fragrant black coffee and shaking his head. “…a spy?” Kaminogi indicated the small panel to her right with a tilt of his bushy black-haired head.
Mia took her cap off and placed it on the desk, rubbing at her temples and giving him a wan smile. “A spy. I just made absolutely sure that I hadn’t been missing anything… and I hadn’t. Nobody knew we were going to be covering the supply route by Hobbes except the crew of this ship. But the Federation was ready for us, ambushed us, and we barely made it out of there alive. We’ve got a traitor in the ranks, Souryuu.”
“What makes you so sure that the leak was on this end?” the Commander pointed out, sipping his coffee. “We sent our course plans to HQ, the leak could’ve come from there.”
The Captain shook her head, her long brown hair glinting in the light of her office as she did so. “You remember. We Jumped into Hobbes on the other side of the planet for them, saw them coming, and were able to scramble our own forces in time to fight them off. The crew knew where we were going, but not the exact Jump points. We sent those to HQ,” Mia inclined her head, taking her own sip of the coffee and closing her eyes. “If they’d had our exact plans, they’d have been waiting for us and we wouldn’t have been able to escape.”
“Besides,” there was a wry if thin smile on her face. “If the leak came from HQ, you’re either saying that Admiral Grossberg’s a traitor… or they’ve managed to crack the Badge Protocol. Forgive me for being optimistic, but I’d rather not think either of those were true.” Mia sighed to herself. “Also, we just got a pulse transmission from Intelligence in response to our SOS. Apparently, they’d intercepted and decrypted a transmission from a source calling itself ‘Agent Blue,’ telling them that the
Kurain would be covering a supply run that went through the space around Hobbes. That’s fairly damning evidence.”
Kaminogi leaned back in the chair, resting one leg on the other. “Point. So, we’ve got a traitor. But, we were under communications blackout ever since we told the crew we were headed to Hobbes, and I checked the logs—there weren’t any transmissions sent, personal or otherwise, since we went dark. Let alone any mentioning such a ridiculous codename—I’d remember that.”
Mia paused, looking across the desk at her second-in-command, meeting his gaze with her own. “It’s one of the pilots. They’ve had the only opportunities to send messages without us detecting them when they’re out on patrol.”
“One of your hunches?” Kaminogi arched a black eyebrow, a knowing grin on his face despite the gravity of the situation.
“I… think so, yes,” nodded Mia.
“All right then, Cap’n. So… I doubt this ‘Agent Blue’ would be the type to let his pals blow him into space dust, so our three pilots that made it through the battle at Hobbes?” He looked down at the small pad he held in his hand, tapping in a few commands. “… Phoenix Wright, Redd White, or Larry Butz.”
The Captain shook her head quickly. “It… it’s not Wright. I don’t think it’s Butz either.”
His eyebrow remained arched. “So you’re saying that our traitor is Redd White, then? All right, I’ll go down and have him placed in detention,” Kaminogi moved like he was going to get up.
Mia’s voice was sharp, “Souryuu,” she said—and he sat back down, though the lopsided grin didn’t really leave his face. “It’s just one of my hunches. You should know better than anyone else… I’m not always right.” She rubbed at her temple again, nursing a growing headache. “There’s no evidence. I’m not going to throw one of my pilots in the brig and send him to court-martial based on a gut feeling, no matter
what my family name is.”
She continued, “After this, I’ll get the deck officer to pull his mech’s communications records. There should be something to prove it in there… if he really is the one.”
“No, you won’t,” though his face was more serious now, the grin was still in his voice. Mia paused, sort of puzzled at Kaminogi’s proclamation. “You’re exhausted, Cap’n. Get some rest. I’ll take care of that.”
Though she was unsuccessful in keeping the traces of annoyance off her face entirely, Mia had to admit that the proposal sounded quite wonderful. “All right, Souryuu, you can handle it,” she acquiesced.
Changing the subject, she stood up, as did Kaminogi—though he merely went over to sit on the edge of her desk. He was taller than her, of course, so even that made them just equal in height. “I’ve been looking at our options for repairs,” Mia began, resting a hand on the fake wood of her desk. “Whether or not they knew we were here beforehand, once that skiff gets back to the local sector authorities, they’ll know we’re here now. We’ve repaired the Jump drive as much as we can, but a long-range flight is out of the question.”
“We need to find a nearby place to get back up to full, and we’re running low on time,” agreed Kaminogi, idly reaching out to play with a stray strand of her long brown hair as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “So, Cap’n Fey, what’s your brilliant plan to save the day this time?”
“There’s an abandoned Alliance base on Elli, one of the moons of Yggdrasil. They had to abandon it due to supply issues, but supplies aren’t our problem. It’s far away enough from the Federation outposts that we should be able to quietly Jump into the system and limp our way there…”
Kaminogi nodded slowly. “The latest intel said the Yggdrasil garrison was pretty short-manned anyway, so even if they do see us coming, we should be able to fight them off—we’ve got top-of-the-line ships, four combat-ready pilots,”
Mia cut him off with a glare. “Three, Souryuu. Don’t you even
think about it. Besides, she’s not certified with any of the suits we’ve got on board.”
He grinned at her softly, deflecting her momentary ire with a lopsided smile. “All right then, three. My point still stands. So, we head to Yggdrasil, land on Elli, repair and then burn dust back to Persephone?”
She answered in the affirmative, nodding. “That’s the plan. I won’t be telling the crew, either—until we find the traitor once and for all, I can’t risk another ambush.”
The captain of the
Kurain closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them, there was a melancholy look on her attractive face, and a wistfulness in her gaze. “Souryuu,” she said softly. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
The entire time, he’d not stopped playing with her hair. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Kaminogi said with a chuckle before he stood up off her desk, gave her the most casual salute possible, and turned to leave. “Like you said, you’re not always right. Go get some rest, Cap’n. I’ll go talk to White—it’s about time for his patrol to start, anyway.”
Once the door had slid shut behind him, Captain Mia Fey sat back in her chair, closing her eyes with a sigh.
-------
Commander Souryuu Kaminogi encountered the pilot in the hallway right before the hangar itself. The older man—Kaminogi often felt he had no business in a pilots’ chair, but they took what they could get—was already dressed up in his flightsuit, and was about to enter the hangar. “White.”
Redd White turned, and seeing Kaminogi, threw a sloppy, half-hearted salute. “Ahh, Mr. First Officer. How can I be of helpsistance to you today?” Kaminogi mentally winced… ah yes, there was a reason he disliked talking to White, and it wasn’t the man’s incredibly
pink jumpsuit, or the almost-certainly-fake glittering jewelry he wore
over the damn thing. No, his attitude and vocabulary were a task in and of themselves to put up with.
“White. The Captain wants to see your mech’s communication logs. Hope you
don’t mind,” said the Commander, sipping the mug of coffee he still held with him. “So… think we could do that about now-ish?” Though he was watching White very closely for any sign of a nervous reaction, he got nothing—which was, admittedly, a bit puzzling.
The older pilot smiled broadly, scratching his lavender hair with a gloved hand—his jewelry sparkling in the hallway lights. “I’m terribly remorsagetic, Commander, but I’m quite afraid that ‘Jewel’ has a problem with the, ah, remembrific core. Transmissions simply can’t be recordified, you see. So that’s quite out of the question.”
Kaminogi was silent as he sipped his coffee, his dark eyes searching Redd’s grinning face for any sign that he was lying or otherwise trying to hide the truth—but there was nothing. “I see,” he said at last, simply. Without any further conversation, he strode quickly past White into the hangar bay, and called out for the officer on duty. “Deck Officer,” he said loudly, though lowered his voice once the blue-suited man came into reasonable speaking range. “Pilot White here tells me that his mech has a problem with the memory core?”
With a nod, the Deck Officer responded, “That’s correct, Commander Kaminogi, sir. ‘Jewel’ is an older model, and White brought it with him when he was attached to the
Kurain. It’s actually a bit of an irregularity, sir—we’ve tried to fix it several times, but haven’t been able to. Apologies, sir, but that’s just how it is.”
“I see,” Kaminogi said again at last. “Well, then, Deck Officer, Pilot… sorry to occupy your time. Go back to… whatever it is you were doing,” said the dark-skinned officer, walking away from the pair, a frown on his face. Redd’s story checked out… but it was
awfully coincidental. However, it didn’t look like they had any way around it yet…
-------
Once he was out in space, clear of the asteroid field—the
Kurain was no longer visible amidst the myriad clusters of floating rock—Redd White exhaled the sigh he’d been holding in ever since he’d seen Commander Kaminogi approaching him down the corridor. “APRIL,” he said at last to his AI, “code an encryptified pulse transmission…”
The bug he’d planted in the Captain’s office had told him all he’d needed to know. Captain Fey and Commander Kaminogi… they didn’t have any proof, but they were onto him. For Redd White, also known as ‘Agent Blue,’ a man who had long profited from selling information to both sides of the conflict…? Well, being caught would certainly be bad for business, and significantly worse for his quality of life.
It was unfortunate, it really was. He’d almost begun to like Captain Fey in his own way, but he couldn’t afford her on his trail any longer… because she was clever, and sooner or later, she’d find the piece of evidence to nail him for good… even someone as brilliant and professional as he was couldn’t hide for long.
The AI chirped an acknowledgement, indicating that the encryption was ready and awaiting his command. “This is Agent Blue,” began the information broker. “I am in possessification of some interesting newsformation regarding the
ARS Kurain. I suggest that the Federation garrison at Yggdrasil pay close watchention to what I have to say…”
Continued…

(Awesome sig art by Axl99!)