Part IV Bleeding System

She had rocked him all night in her gentle arms, slowly, letting his dreams melt into the nothingness. She had bathed his broken body in soft florid water, cleaning the blood away. Then she'd put alcohol into his numerous wounds, bandaging every one carefully. She had dressed him in clean clothe, some new ones she herself had ironed. Small tears welled in her eyes as she dressed his innocent body, battered and bruised, raped and cursed. It hurt her, but she stayed by his side all night, watching his closed eyes frightened as he dreamed. Those eyes, that had once been so beautiful and kind, now destined to suffer, robbed of their smile.

The young woman gasped as the old man closed the door behind himself.

"Monica, child, get some sleep."

The woman looked down at the sleeping boy's face. She looked at the man, who had slowly walked over to the boy's side, placing one hand on his bandaged head. The other hand, a three fingered metal device, he put inside his coat's pocket. He shook his head sadly and looked at the woman sternly.

"Monica," he said. "get some sleep, before you end up like poor Tres, out of your own account."

The old man walked away from the bed, the metal harness around his legs clanging loudly. He grinned widely, laughing to himself, as he reached up to dim one of the lanterns in the room. Monica stood up from the bed, obeying him. She had learned, long ago, not to confuse the old man's warnings with orders, but he was right. She needed sleep. Yet, her maternal soul wouldn't allow her. The boy was like her own child. She picked up the knitting she had been doing to keep herself from thinking and walked to the door. She turned as the old man called to her with his mechanical hand.

"Beware, Miss Lynn," he said. "Things are not what they used to be out there. Let one of the men drive you home." She nodded, folding her knitting and putting it in one of the pockets of her long skirt. She smiled, her lovely face brightening, her dark, curly hair bouncing slightly. She came close to the old man, her slender arms holding him, her fingers curling his white hair.

"I'll take care, Doctor." He smiled, the circular metal gadgets that were his eyes revolving as they did when he was pleased. She turned and made her way out of the room quietly, closing the door behind herself softly.

The old man went back to the boy's side, sitting on the edge of the bed with a groan. Things had changed in more ways than he'd dare admit. He reached down to pass a hand over the metal that harnessed his legs. He ran his good, flesh hand over his brow, over his metal eyes. The Federation had doubled the patrolling at the colony, tripled the guards and security. The place was, now more than ever, tightly under its control. Huge mobile suits were brought in, under General Berengena's orders. Peace was scarred deeper. Then Colonel Tres had been found dead, his body burnt in the trunk of his car. His wife and children were found dead in their home, poisoned by the central air system. Their peace had once more been broken to pieces. Somehow, the old man thought, he was to blame. Him and his missions. He looked at the boy, his ultimate project, as he slept. He smiled, listening to his breathing, proud of the boy's perfection, at his abilities and devotion. The perfect weapon, the perfect terrorist. But things in this colony were getting out of control and it was time to leave this place once more.

The old man was brought out of his thoughts as the boy's hands touched his arm. He turned to look at the boy, whose blue eyes searched his face. The boy reached his bandaged arms to hold the old man and buried his head in his lap.

"You did well, Hiro," the old man said. He caressed the boy's head, using his metal hand. Hiro smiled, pleased at his accomplishment, and sat up in bed. He looked at his bandaged hands, examining his bruised skin as if half believing they were still there. He looked at the dark room, at the boxes and gun cartridges on the walls, the metal window covered with a wood plate. Beside his bed lay his yellow boots, next to them were boxes with guns, ammo, and some helmets. He frowned as he saw the rocking chair that lay near the door, a pink shawl over one of its arms.

"Was Monica here, Dr. J ?" he asked. The old man's eyes rolled down, in a sad expression.

"Yes," he said. "She took care of you while you were out, all week. She feared that you would die, after she and her men went to save you, but I sent her home to rest." Hiro rubbed his face, worried that he'd been out a whole week. "She insisted to do it, but the real reason I let her stay was that I feared for her safety. I kept her here so she wouldn't suffer what Colonel Tres suffered." Hiro's eyes widened. "He's dead, boy."

The boy lay back in his pillow, his hand clawing the bed covers, his eyes blankly looking at the nothingness, like a mad man. "It's my fault."

Dr. J slammed his knees, the noise of his fists against the metal harness jutting Hiro. He frowned at the wall, expecting it to explain things to him. Answers for both him and his little boy. Why ? Why did good men have to die ? Hiro looked at the empty rocking chair. His mind feared for the woman's safety, imagining her soft eyes full of tears.

"We can't stay here anymore, Hiro," Dr. J said. "It isn't safe, or appropriate for the operation. The Federation has us in its sight, and it won't let us move as we please." The old man stood, leaning heavily on his cane. "For the sake of the mission and our safety, we must leave this place." He looked back at the boy, his metal eyes reeling darkly. Hiro's eyes, sunken in their sockets, stared at the darkness, his brows drawn together.

"Monica..."

Dr. J took the boy's hand, squeezing it softly. His metal hand clanged open and shut repeatedly before the boy's face. Hiro stared at it, hypnotized by its movements, eyes half closed. He reached up to hold onto the old man tightly. Dr. J lay his hand over his back.

"I know she's like a mother for you, eh, Hiro ?" The boy nodded slowly. Dr. J smiled. "She won't die, then." Hiro's face calmed down, the old man caressing his hair.

The old man frowned to himself, glad that he was the only one that could ever see this side to Hiro, glad to see that the boy's heart still felt, even after he himself had made him into the cold murderer that killed officers so easily. Hiro didn't show his feelings to anyone, no matter who it was, save for Dr. J, the man he had lived with for so long, since he was a child. The scientist had reared him, taught him everything. He was close to being a father to him, even if people called him crazy and deformed.

Hiro's eyes became hard once more, his courage returning, as his body became strong once more. Dr. J reached to turn off the lantern and leave the boy to sleep. He'd need him at his fullest potential to make the mad race out from the colony, and that would have to be real soon, judging by the way things were turning out.

Hiro lay back on the pillows, closing his eyes, thankful for the chance to rest. Dr. J opened the door, the noise of men talking outside drifting in, their loud voices sounding like a madness. Hiro wondered how many more had died as he had been out, or trying to save him. He'd been a foolish boy, unworthy of his training.

"No time to think, Hiro," Dr. J said as he was about to exit the room. "Rest. We'll be leaving this colony as soon as there is a chance."

The boy tried to stay awake, striving to understand what the men outside his room were talking about, but his tired eyes wouldn't stay open. He fell asleep, his small head falling to one side of the pillow. Dr. J closed the door softly.

 
Part V Insanity in the Light

Intensity. Insanity. Tearing and breaking the body apart, marring the soul- eating it slowly. His hands tried to remove the pain, shove it aside and wake up, but he couldn't shake it off. His hands clawed the covers. Once more, the wicked system is was getting the best of him, driving him insane. He gasped loudly, his eyes flying open with a start. He sat up in bed.

Nothingness. Darkness. The dark room was still silent, just as it had been before he'd woken, but he had heard his name being called. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his small palms. His door, half open, let the bright light come in, the hushed voices of the men outside drawled in. he got up in bed, feeling his body tense as he stepped around, his bones still sore.

He walked into the living room, the lights at first hurting his eyes, then slowly the view became normal. Some men and women stood there, talking in hushed voices, some standing, others sitting in the few chairs there. An extremely tall man in a brown suit stood by the sofa in the corner, leaning over the body of a woman that lay on it. His dark brown hair a bit messy from many worries.

The young boy felt his tired soul about to break as he caught sight of who it was that lay on the couch. The tall man turned around, noticing the boy and his face twisted in sadness. He reached in a paternal embrace for the young boy, who ran into his arms.

"Hiro," said the man, holding the boy's body. "Thank heaven's you are safe."

Hiro buried his face on the man's chest, feeling the warmth there, the familiarity of the one man that he secretly called his father. The woman on the couch reached a hand to touch Hiro's bare feet and smiled. The other people next to them come closer, glad that the boy was safe. One of the men helped the woman to a sitting position, careful not to hurt her. She smiled, her face once lovely, now bore two huge purple bruises on her temple.

Hiro's eyes, slightly shaken of from their coldness, looked at her, his soul relieved that she lived, but his lip trembling slightly at seeing his mother hurt so. The man that helped her crossed his arms over his chest.

"Federation officers attacked her house," he said. "Broke in and burnt the kitchen. Would've gotten her and her husband, if I wasn't there. Dr. J sent me with her just in case. Damned Federation!"

Mrs. Lynn hushed him, her searching Hiro's face, thankful that he was safe. Thankful that the boy showed no apparent distress over the abuse he had been under. The tall man that held Hiro laughed wryly, shaking the boy. Hiro's eyes stared at him, at his small moustache and the bits of grey on the hairs by his ears.

The boy frowned, feeling that it was his fault that all of this was happening. General Berengena had meant to hurt him for daring to destroy his base and kill his men. His fists hardened, his soul angry, but he remained silent, smelling the man's after shave.

"We're getting out of this place, gentlemen."

Hiro turned his head and looked at Dr. J, who had walked into the room, making his way slowly across it leaning heavily on his cane. The boy's eyes grew even more distant, the violet darkening deeper. He became free from the man's tender embrace, easing into his usual quiet, cold self. The others next to him looked at each other, wondering about the odds Dr. J was implying.

"Leave the colony? What other one would we go to, or are we going to Earth?"

"Won't the feds suspect us and our cargo? They've doubled the patrolling security. It will be impossible to bypass."

"It'll be suicide, professor!"

Dr. J laughed, his sharp voice becoming a melody with the noise of the clanking of his metal fingers. Hiro felt Mr. Lynn, who had put a hand over his shoulder, nodding at the doctor's words. Dr. J tapped his cane on the floor sharply.

"It's either leave this colony while we can," Dr. J said. "or abandon the operation."

Mrs. Lynn grabbed Hiro's small hand, looking at the boy kindly, ignoring the transparent stare he gave her. The boy was the core of their operation, but she would forsake any military command to protect him. Hiro stopped looking at her and turned his attention back to Dr. J. All of them would have to forsake what they had, leave the the things they'd begun on this base. Leave their lives on this colony, but they had to. Operation Meteo depended on them.

Still, the men around him were growing tired, restless. It had taken so much to get things going on this colony. To start again would be so hard. A woman that stood by the door, her arms crossed bravely over her chest, felt her eyes water. So many things had to be lost in order to issue freedom. The man next to Mrs. Lynn swore, repeating under his breath that it was suicide, simply suicide.

"I've already contacted Mil at Sec-U, gentlemen," Dr. J said. "Those who will escape with me should be ready by dawn tomorrow."

Part VI Zero Gravity Beneath the Acid

Breaking the small top off with his teeth, Hiro opened the small bottle and put the thin needle into its mouth. Narrowing his eyes, he tilted the bottle, filling the needle completely and tapped it with his finger. He bit his tongue as he punctured his arm with it, the hot acid shooting into his blood. His head sagged to one side, his mouth gasping for air as the acid began to numb his muscles and his bones. He could feel almost nothing in seconds.

The sounds of the men working in the room brought him out of his stupor. People loading guns and opening boxes of ammo. Heavy arms being tossed from hand to hand and hidden inside jackets and boxes. He blinked, watching the men who worked with Dr. J meticulously hide tons of armament in secret pockets in jackets, then carefully sowing them into place with a hard cloth made to bypass the security system. They took care to sow the bullets into ordinary jeans and blouses, the women then taking the stuffed clothes and arranging them into luggage. Like ordinary travel packing.

Mrs. Lynn was helping her husband take the heel of some shoes. Her husband then attached bullets to the sole and covered then, afterwards placing the heel in its place. She stood back, watching him work, every once in a while looking at Hiro, her hands on her lap. The darkness made her face appear older than it was, her laugh lines deeper. Her dark hair was tied in a bun behind her, her good clothes replaced by ordinary jeans and a shirt. Her husband had removed his good brown suit, rolled up his sleeves, and taken of his tie.

Hiro removed the needle from his arm, trying desperately not to smile at them every time they looked at him. The tall man had pointed his way countless of times, holding up one of the shoes he was working on, making some joke. His wife had wanted the boy to go to their side, but he had remained were he was. He hadn't smiled at them, no matter how his soul ached to go to them, to hold them, like a son holds his parents. He didn't want to make them his parents. It hurt too much.

"Hiro," Dr. J said. He turned his head to look at the old man. "Here. We must be ready soon, or we'll be late at the port."

The boy sat straight, crossing his legs, taking the knife the doctor gave him. Dr. J gave one as well to the other men that now came up to the boy, sitting next to him, their faces grim. They stared at it silently.

Mr. Lynn gave the last shoe to his wife, and came to sit next to the boy, taking one himself. Mrs. Lynn went outside the room, not wanting to witness the what the men would do to the boy. Dr. J patted her arms, telling her that Hiro was ready for such pain and much more. Still, small tears fell down her cheeks and she left to help the other women pack the food supplies. Dr. J closed the door after she exited, his mouth twisted into a smile, his metal eyes rolling coldly.

Hiro swallowed, his eyes hardening, his blood turning cold and held his breath. The strong acid had made his veins thinner, his skin tougher, like common leather. He was sure that his body was ready.

He removed his clothes, folding his shirt and pants neatly and giving it to one of the men. He lay on the small table, naked save for his underwear and his yellow boots, on of the men had pulled up some time before. Silent. Serene.

He stared at the men, who came close, standing over him and looking down at him. They held his arms and legs, careful not to bruise him. Dr. J placed his flesh hand on his neck, holding him firmly. Hiro smiled, his mouth twisting wickedly, yet confident on each one of the men there.

He held his knife over his arm and began to move it slowly over his skin, teasingly, searching for real hard spot in his arm to puncture. Mr. Lynn frowned as Hiro's maddened eyes flickered savagely, as if the boy enjoyed this, as he found the perfect place and broke into it with the knife. Hiro bit his lip as he dug the blade in deep, bringing it up, cutting his skin like a long pocket.

One of the men next to him lifted the skin so that he could cut sideways, while another placed a wet towel over the slit to stop the blood from coming. He put a slender tube into the slit, connected to a pumping machine that began to shake as he turned it on. One of them stood by the machine, regulating the blood flow.

Mr. Lynn cursed under his breath, watching as the men tore Hiro's skin, making a sort of pocket. As he looked at the boy's, face he frowned deeper. Hiro's eyes were glazed, cold, not looking at any of them. His semblance perfectly still, feeling no pain, no regret. There was a hint of evil madness behind his eyes, his small tongue liking his teeth absentmindedly. Dr. J held him firmly, his metal hand on the boy's chest. Mr. Lynn shook his head.

One of the men broke a package of new bullets, handling them to the men that held the slit open. One of them held the skin apart and the other pushed the metal thing into Hiro's flesh. Mr. Lynn watched as the slit was filled with the bullets, new packets opened, each tiny capsule dug into the boy's flesh, bathed in blood. He heard Hiro's breathing pick up, as he held on to the boy's arm. Hiro moaned as the men began to close the slit with a hard, thread, stitching the skin like cloth. It was already as hard as plastic, so it was like sowing a shoe. Almost. This was human skin.

Hiro ripped open another slit and another, allowing the men, Mr. Lynn included, to bury the armament in him. The men worked quickly, sowing his skin quickly, their faces grim. The machine next to them pumped the boy's lost blood back into his veins, connected by a wired tube, at a good rhythm. Mr. Lynn covered the boy's wounds, cleaning them with alcohol and iodine. He placed parches over the slits as the other men kept filling the new slits, their hands reddened with the boy's blood. They closed the wounds with equal velocity.

Hiro then reached down and opened a slit over his left thigh. The men worked on it calmly, taking a small disk that Dr. J handled them, and placing it inside his skin. The operation's core master plans. Some other disks were inserted inside along with it, all the master disks to the mission, the backbone. Dr. J smiled, pleased that as the skin was sown, no one could notice that they were hidden there.

Mr. Lynn was glad that they were almost done with the gruesome task. The men were sowing some of the last slits into place, cleaning the blood carefully. Suddenly, the men were brought out of their careful work, jerked out of their thoughts by Hiro's small laughter. Cruel and sinister, at first just a small whisper, then slowly growing louder. Echoing in the darkness of the room. Mr. Lynn closed his eyes, cursing himself, striving to take Hiro's laughter to the back of his mind. But he couldn't. It hurt his soul.

Dr. J smiled, his metal eyes glistening, listening to Hiro laugh, watching the men become restless at its sound.

Once the many slits were opened, filled and closed, the blood pumped back into the boy, the wounds parched with huge rubber patches, the men dressed Hiro again. The boy sagged in their arms, still laughing weakly, too much blood lost. Dr. J held his face, making him drink a sleeping drug to make him ease his mind.

The other men worked fast, disposing of the empty boxes. They removed the table, cleaning the floor, going over the boxes, the packing and the left overs a thousand times. They cleared the room quickly, going on to the next rooms and doing the same. Some joined the women in the upstairs room, giving them the last bits of packages.

Hiro's small body fell sideways and into Mr. Lynn's arms. The tall man took the boy gently, rocking his body against his chest softly. There were small tears in his eyes, his soul saddened by the cruel fate the child had been chosen for.

Dr. J was watching him, leaning heavily in his cane, inspecting the job the men had done, the job they had done with the room.

Mr. Lynn shook his head, feeling Hiro's heavy arms dangle, the boy's body racking of blood, his flesh destroyed by their actions. He took the boy with him, walking up the stairs to join his wife in her packing. He'd give Hiro a good bath, dress him and feed him something. He pressed the boy to his chest, wanting to steel some of his courage. He felt Dr. J's metal eyes on him, on his actions, but he didn't care. He left the room, never to return to it again, leaving the terrible things they had done in it behind.

The dawn would be here in a few hours.

 
Part VII Spirals Down into Darkness

The yellow lights of the street posts shone over their bodies, making the night seem unreal and sick. They were hardly any help in the shadowed alley and the cold air broke down through them into their bones. Shivering and cold, like rats, the rebels stood together in the shadows waiting for their new mission to begin.

Hiro's half closed eyes took in the night, his nostrils breathing the cold air, leaning on Mr. Lynn's leg, the man's gloved hand over his chest. The boy had been given a bath and food before he was put to bed. He had been allowed to sleep soundly until dawn had come. He wore a long black shirt over his short pants, to conceal the scars and patches. Mrs. Lynn had bathed his skin in soothing oil, so the sting would go away and he now stood silent and lethal, his senses ready for the mission.

Dr. J had been talking for a long time in a hushed voice with MIl, who had come to meet them. Their contact with the mobilizing forces of Sec-U. A huge dark truck had come a few minutes later and some of the rebels had gotten in, loading the bags and luggage. Some had stayed seated inside the truck, waiting. In total they were eight rebels, and all of them strong. Dr. Mil Tell, a short, fat man with white hair and a dark moustache, was still explaining the full procedure of their manoeuvres, in rich details. Mr. Lynn, his wife and Hiro had moved a way from the truck and sat by the curve, the dark grass wet under their feet. One of the women had sat a few feet away, smoking a cigarette, huddled in a dark brown coat. Waiting.

Mil sounded a bit agitated, worried that the heavy Fed security would manage to spot Sec-U this time, but Dr. J patted the old jew in the back, his metal hand cold against the old man's worries. The night would turn out fine, the scientist hoped, and he trusted everyone to do their best. Hiro crossed his arms, watching the two men talk, and mirroring the same action that Mil made, and closed his eyes. The woman a few feet away tossed her cigarette to the grass, the red but dying in the wet grass slowly. Hiro stared at the dying light quietly for a long time until the growl of the truck's engine woke him up. The boy got up and followed the woman, listening in a dream like state to Dr. Tell's voice, calling them into the truck.

Mr. Lynn hoisted Hiro up, a bit playfully, and helped in get inside the crowded back seat. He smiled a bit wearily, too many cups of coffee. Behind him, one of the men, Ochenta Parker, laughed grimly, his breath frozen in the air. Hiro stared at both their faces, as if in some drug trip, not fully grasping the reality.

"The journey begins, " Mr. Lynn said in a grim joke. Ochenta laughed again as he helped Mrs. Lynn board the back seat. Her eyes were huge and she had to push a whole lot for all of them to fit. The woman that had been smoking, Cien, drew Hiro to herself, wanting the boy's strength to become part of her. Hiro stared up at her face, watching her brows knit in a perpetual frown. Like his. Dr. J sat in front with Mil, joking quietly with the old jew about his harnessed legs and about how tightly squeezed the rebels looked in the back. Cien released Hiro and he climbed over the seat to sit between the two old men. He heard Mr. Lynn whistle as the man closed the door after they all got in.

"Ready?" Mil called as he grasped the driver's wheel. The other woman, Siete, answered with a grunt, complaining that she had someone's elbow in her ribs. Hiro let his back sink into the seat as the truck headed off into the night, leaving the old hideout behind; that old house becoming a dark silhouette in the dawn's fog.

They looked like ordinary tourists, their hand bags and baggage just like the other travellers, their clothes normal complete even for the sun glasses, which Ochenta wore just for the fun of it, as they cluttered at gate 32A. Dr. J was still laughing from the joy of having cleared all of the check posts with no problems. The guards that had inspected them had found nothing, not even a belt, that had made the system beep. Their bags cleared all the X ray machines and the aduana centre. Their bags were loaded into the train, which they were taking to the space port. From there they would take a space ship to L1, leaving this colony for good.

Mil sat in one of the waiting chairs, opening his newspaper casually, and grinned at Mr. Lynn, who was organizing a few things in his briefcase.

"Are we on a non smoking car?"

Mr. Lynn chuckled at the old man's question, but he fell silent as he spotted a Federation soldier crossing the waiting area before them. He saw the soldier give the group a long stare, but then the soldier moved on. Mr. Lynn closed his bag and sat next to his wife, who was talking with Siete about the movies the train was showing. He fell on his seat with grim silence, his eyes looking at Hiro, sitting a few seats away, not part of their group.

Hiro leaned his head over his folded arms, leaning side ways over his seat. He looked at the travellers grimly, his face dark, drinking in the air of the colony one last time. He frowned as he watched silently the different passengers, with their children, small and cute, so unlike him. The woman and men talking excitedly with each other as their kids laughed and ran around the waiting area. Happy people. Hiro closed his eyes, wondering how many of them had any idea that rebels travelled in their car, or how many even thought that could be possible. He opened them again, his eyes growing even colder, as a young child sat in the seat next to his.

The other boy swung his legs as he sat, rocking the seats, and smiled playfully at Hiro, his red curls and blue eyes shinning. Hiro stared at him silently, his face hardening. The boy smiled wider, regardless of Hiro's expression.

"I can't wait until the train ride is over," he said. "When I get there, I'm going to the biggest park in all the colonies. My mom is taking me there. Are you going to it as well?"

"No."

The kid raised an eyebrow, a bit hurt by Hiro's cold reply. Hiro ignored the boy's look and rubbed his arms, which had begun to sting, his wounds aching. The red haired boy swung his legs again and brought out a huge coloured book from his hand bag, turning the pages to show Hiro the park he was talking about. Hiro's blank eyes flickered, the pretty park drawing some pain, that he wanted gone from his system. He forced his eyes to remain distant, but the red head kept talking, pointing at the drawings and telling him about the fun stuff in the park. Hiro bit his lip.

Ochenta stood up form his seat, gathering his bags and calling to the rest, who gathered their things as well. It was time to board the train. Nervous looks were replaced by solid, silent expressions. They were masters of illusions, of lies, perfect terrorists and infiltrates. Hiro got up as well, ready to say goodbye to this place where he's lived in for a long time, but the red head kid held on to his sleeve. Desperate.

"I'm scared of trains," he said. "I hate this trip. They scare me, they are the only thing I hate about going to this park."

Hiro's cold eyes regarded the boy silently, the boy's crystal blue eyes pitiful. Hiro's mouth softened if only for a moment. Both boys looked at each other silently, as the world went on around them.

"I'm going to die when I get off this train," Hiro said.

The young boy almost cried out as Hiro walked away, feeling his heart about to brake. He pressed his arms to his chest, willing the nightmare to end. Hiro kept on walking, not caring about anything that happened around him, only caring to join the group and board the car they were assigned. As he stood on the steps, he turned around one last time, then went inside, silent, like the rest of the rebels. They did not look back again.

The Feds had doubled the security on the train stop that was their destination. When the train arrived, Dr. J was aghast to find Fed patrol officers in the building, the trains delayed for inspection and the travellers being checked heavily. The stop was completely taken over, patrolled and soldiers escorted the passengers out from the train. Dr. J tapped his cane impassively, angered by such a show of force, such mobilization of forces. There was something those soldiers wanted to find.

Mil cursed under his breath, not having expected this delay. He and Dr. J had begun to talk in hushed tones again, their grey brows knitted, yet, going on with the plans. Hiro's dead eyes froze with hatred as he got off the train and saw the heavy patrolling. He sat silent in the baggage claim, watching the families inspected, the passengers oblivious as to why they had to be searched. He bit his lip, staring at the Federation soldier that kept looking at him, questioning the group. He let his head fall into the waiting seat, tired of the trip, tired of waiting. Mr. Lynn sighed and sat by the luggage as well, joining the boy. He breathed hotly, like a father on a trip, tired of waiting for the train that has been delayed, as if nothing was happening. Yet, his eyes betrayed the true worry he had inside. Dr. J sat across from them, looking hotly at the way each bag was opened again and again, five soldiers each going through the luggage. The passengers were a bit annoyed at all of this, angered that they were forced to such treatment. Mrs. Lynn mad a small prayer, hoping that the bags would not be found offensive. Hiro simply watched, detached from the world.

"As if they expected us, " Mr. Lynn whispered under his breath.

The soldiers bent down, watching as each rebel opened their bags and showed them the contents. Clothes, toothbrushes, shoes, underwear, combs, gifts. All of was taken and spread, searched and revised by all of the five soldiers. After being revised, each object was unceremoniously tossed aside, the rebels trying to make the bags as fast as they could. They answered the questions they asked paying little attention to anything or anyone. Mil smiled at Dr. J, glad that they were such incredible experts at camouflage and hiding. Both old man turned as the officer in charge spoke aloud, looking at the whole group.

"What do you want me to do with these ones, sergeant?"

The last bag, Siete's purse, was shoved aside. The sergeant answered coldly, staring down at Hiro, who stood next to his bag, after getting the stuff back inside.

"Nothing."

Hiro smirked silently as the soldiers released the group and let them go, passing the inspection. Dr. J banged the cane impatiently, ordering the rebels to hurry. Their spaceship was going to leave them, if they did not hurry. The old man reached down to hold Hiro closer, sending a harsh look towards the guards that lined the doors. Hiro looked up at him, noticing the way his metal eyes moved, as if when he is afraid. He took the old man by the hand, feeling the cold metal fingers enclose over his.

The darkness outside ate them as they dragged their bags outside, stepping out to the dim lit street.

The yellow lights from the posts hung down over their bodies, painting their bodies sickly against the dark, in the fog. They crossed the streets, their steps brisk and hurried. The space port loomed before them, its tall building majestic against the dark sky. White light posts lined the entrance, making the place look inviting and pleasant. The run way loomed above it, a long ramp that reached for the dome of the colony. The noise of a lifting shuttle broke the silence of the alley. The place was crowded with people travelling to other colonies and to earth.

A couple, their bags in hand, was headed for the space port as well, and crossed a few feet away from them, crossing without looking at them. The rebels crossed the street, following them close behind, shaking the bits of anxiety they still had inside. Their bags messy, from the hasty re packing, their steps fast.

"Stop-"

Hiro's breath stopped as the voice called out to them in the darkness. The group ignored it, walking on.

"Stop!"

Dr. J swore and tugged at the boy to walk faster, the men and women speeding as well. They heard the guard that had called walking after them, and were surprised to see two more guards at the port's entrance.

Mil swore as he dived left, dragging Siete with him, as the shot rang in the darkness, barely getting him on the back. Mrs. Lynn screamed, realizing that they were being shot at. The rest of the rebels gasped, separating from each other. The couple in front screamed as the bullet rang in the dark street. Hiro felt his body react as the guards in the port gates drew up their guns. Mr. Lynn cursed, yelling as the group broke apart, each one running for their life. Plans had changed.

"I've found them, sergeant! I found the rebels!"

Hiro spun on his feet, gun in hand, and shot at the young man that was calling at the sergeant. Mrs. Lynn turned her head, covering her mouth as the young soldier screamed as death took him. Siete fired at the guards on the gates, dashing into the alley ways that sprung from the street. She rolled on the ground, taking a good shot at the soldiers. Mil laughed sarcastically as he helped Dr. J dash into a corner. He emerged again, watching the other rebels dunk safely into the dark alleys, agile. His eyes narrowed, making sure they had all escaped the guards' shots.

Hiro felt his body being dragged into one of the dark alleys as Mr. Lynn reached for him, away from the Feds' range. Hiro felt the man's ragged breath against his back.

"We have to separate, " Dr. J breathed, loud enough for the rebels to hear.

His metallic eyes spun, his brow sweaty with fear for them. Hiro glanced at him one last time, before the old man made a thumbs up thing, a mad signal to get going. Mil screamed, his ragged voice reaching all of them, giving them courage for the madness they flung themselves at. Hiro felt his breath still in his chest, his heart aching for the rest of the rebels that now nodded sadly, yet bravely, accepting the end that was coming.

"We'll meet at runway 11," Mil said. "Some one has to give us some time. Someone has to run out there heads on to the Feds, so the rest can get away."

The group fell silent, their minds working fast, taking in the suicidal order. Hiro pressed his lips and stepped forwards, but felt his body pulled back by Mr. Lynn, strongly holding him from getting killed. The boy watched as one of the rebels jumped out of the shadows and out at the Feds', two guns in hand. He smiled at the boy, who was hiding in the alley right before his, and ran madly to meet his death. Hiro cried out, wanting to stop the man, as he gave them one last look and a thumbs up sign.

"Long live the free colonies!"

"Ochenta!"

The shots rang in the dark street, loud and terrible. Mr. Lynn covered the boy's face, catching Mil's teary faced sob, as the young man was torn to pieces. The rebels sprung like mad men from their hiding places, not wasting Ochenta's death sacrifice. Wild animals running for their lives, headed in the yellow dark streets towards the place where Sec-U would meet them.

Hiro turned around, frozen in the street. his heart racing as he heard more shots and heard Ochenta scream again. He curled his lip, raising his gun before him and taking a young officer that had emerged from the shadows a few feet away. The young man fell, his yell horrible in the dark. Hiro smiled. Cruel and terrible. Like any one of them.

The boy followed blindly, running like a mad rat in a maze, after Mr. Lynn and his wife, dumping trash cans, jumping water wholes, smashing through fences. Mr. Lynn smashed his hand on the wall, watching for the vicinity of any Fed and waited for his wife and the boy to catch up with him. The man frowned, his eyes becoming dark and sad. Gateway 11 lay so far away, a few yards from the maze streets they ran across, to the left. Mr. Lynn felt Hiro's tired head fall against his leg, the boy's ragged breath caught in his lungs.

"Robert, " Monica whispered. "What shall we do now?"

Mr. Lynn cocked his head, his ears picking the sound coming from the alleys. Boots. Hiro caressed his gun, ignoring the adults, his mind calculating the distance between the gate and them. He had heard the boots as well.

Mr. Lynn gasped and yelled as the boy sprung out and fired at the incoming soldier. The body fell at Hiro's feet. The boy smiled, his eyes wicked, and dashed out, not caring whether the man and woman followed. The three of them ran wild under the yellow sick lights. Unaware of the soldier's feeble movements.

Hiro thought he could make out the screams of a thousand soldiers, both Feds and rebels, in the alleys. His eyes grew wide as he dashed in the streets, his heart racing like mad, his pupils dilated, afraid. The gate loomed before them, dimly lit with feeble search lights, in the field. The dark ships of the Sec-U could be seen buried in the shadows.

"You wont get away."

Hiro yelled silently as the bullet caught him in his back, below his lungs. He fell to the floor rolling like an animal, and cocked his gun, ready to kill the one that had done this to him. He gritted his teeth in horrible anguish.

"My God, Hiro..." Mr. Lynn turned around, reaching back for the boy. He reached down for the boy, but retracted quickly, pushing his wife backwards into the wall. She screamed as she hit the wall and the soldier's shots caught her husband.

Hiro yelled as Mr. Lynn's body fell backwards, into the floor, just before him. Still, the man struggled to get the boy up to his feet, pulling him up by his collar. The soldier emerged from his hiding place in the alley, cocking his gun again. Mr. Lynn coughed, dragging Hiro's body from the ground, the boy looking at his eyes silently.

The soldier shot again.

The street's silence were broken by Monica's scream. Hiro shot again and again, his mind crying in pain as Mr. Lynn cried out in agony. The man's heart burned as the boy emptied his gun on the soldier. The boy didn't notice the woman come close to him, trying to take the gun from his hands.

"Stop," she sobbed struggling with Hiro's maddened hands. "Stop! He's dead already, Hiro!"

Hiro cried out, his sob breaking the silence of the alley. Mr. Lynn body lay across his legs, struggling feebly to get up. The boy turned the man over, caressing his face softly, his fingers red with blood, his face twisted in pain.

"Hiro..."

Mrs. Lynn reached for her husband's hand, willing him to remain alive, willing him to look at her. The man grinned wryly, his life stronger than death. He reached to hold Hiro's hand and his wife's. The boy only stared down at the man that would be his father, at the only man he called like that in his dreams. Mr. Lynn reached up to brush the boy's tears softly.

And Hiro let himself be touched.

Hiro helped him to his feet, taking the man's weight over his body. Mrs Lynn grabbed her husband tight, helping him move slowly down the alley, leaning on the wall to their left. Gateway 11 was still a few yards away. Hiro let the woman carry the man, and ran ahead to make sure the way was clear. He looked behind himself every once in a while, his gun raised, ready to kill to defend his parents. His throat hurt strangely.

The boy gritted his teeth, savouring the pain that broke across his spine. He turned, his keen senses going mad, and raised his gun. He left the man and woman behind him, his mind screaming for them to be safe. But, he had to leave them behind. He couldn't care for them. He leaned over the wall, noticing the rail that led down into the field, where Gate 11 branched out.

"Kill me too, boy."

Hiro cursed as the cold metal hit his temple. A small caress. He closed his eyes feeling the cold hatred against his skin. The Federation soldier drew closer, a wicked grin in his lips. He was a young man, dark hair, a small glazed look in his eyes. Hatred in his voice. Hiro felt his breathing grow slower, as he listened to the gun's trigger being released.

Hiro's eyes met those of his killer, dark and full of hatred, yet revealing small tears. The soldier bit his lip, his eyes speaking a hundred words. Hiro's blue eyes searched the young man's face, seeing what the soldier had seen. THis was not an abusive general or a perverted lieutenant, only a soldier, who probably lost his best bunk friend to Hiro's rage. The trigger moved slowly.

"...Hiro...!"

The young boy felt his breath knocked out of his system, his life taken as the soldier turned sideways and shot at the person that had run forward. Mr. Lynn, who had dragged his sorry body, had not managed to get closer than a few steps, his screams alerting the soldier.

Mr. Lynn's crumpled body fell forwards, kneeling into the ground. His wife's scream echoed horribly in the dark alley. The soldier shot at her too, his aim taking her in her shoulder and her legs. Her body crashed against the wall.

"Long live the free colonies!"

Hiro couldn't move, his body frozen, his blue eyes still, his mind dead as the soldier shot at the man again. And again. And again. Mr. Lynn's harsh screams, his voice loud, grew louder in the night.

"Long live the free colonies!"

Hiro could only watch as the man that would be his father's body fell forward, his last breath a defiance of the colonial rule, as his mother's agonizing eyes pleaded for forgiveness, as his father's lips broke into a smile, looking at the boy, at his son.

Hiro felt his throat become alive with his scream, as he yelled out to his father, but his mouth uttered nothing. The boy was dead. Truly dead. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but he couldn't. His eyes found those of the soldier, silently, still. Like a machine without any feelings, the bodies of his parents by his feet, behind him the metal railing that lead down into the gateway, the last thing left to be crossed before all of them could have made it.

The soldier laughed as he opened fire on Hiro's body. The boy said nothing, just closed his eyes, lifting his arms slowly by his sides, letting the bullets hit him, tear him apart. Killing what was left of his scarred body.

His back hit the rail, falling backwards and over the rail, the soldier's shots taking his body over it. The soldier laughed like a madman as Hiro's body fell down the slanted wall railing, sliding down into the dark pit that lead into the side of the runway's field.

Hiro could feel nothing, see nothing, as he hit the floor. He felt his soul break free, his mind go crazy in the dark. Horribly dark. His eyes frozen and wide, his body crushed in the wet grass, his mouth open, but he was dead.

Hiro felt around the sides of his suit for the homing device Dr. J had put on his pants. The light went off, red in the darkness. The rebels would find him soon and they would take him to the ship, back to the mission. Destiny would keep him alive, ready to kill again. He closed his eyes painfully, forgetting the blinking light by his leg, his mind numb.

His body would be saved. He would make it to Operation Meteo, to drive the Gundam Machine whose model plans he carried on his leg's flesh. He'd walk again and kill again, without mercy, but he was already dead.