Chapter Text
To his pursuers, the Humanoid Typhoon seemed like a tireless runner - but even he must have limits to how far and how fast he could keep running. And he did. Which is why he found himself hiding in a worm cavern. Despite his expended plant energy, he managed to outrun his pursuers. There was just enough time and distance for him to enter, then clamber up the cavern walls like a bug without witnesses.
The cavern seemed to serve as a nursery for multiple very large worms. There were plenty of tunnels leading in and out, plus the natural mouth of a rocky cavern that provided ventilation and warmth from outside. Clutches of eggs, hatched and unhatched, coated the walls and floors of Vash's latest hiding spot. He had holed himself up high in an empty nook inside one of the upper tunnels, facing away from the outside entry. All the tunnels were dimly lit by clutches of eggs and worker worms. The workers took no notice of him, but Vash had been careful not to squish or disturb any of them. This was their home.
To fit into the nook he had to compartmentalise himself into a roughly cube-ish shape. His arms held his legs squarely against his face and chest. His neck and chin were squeezed against the tops of his knees. Anyone smart enough would check the cavern, but he doubted anyone, maybe aside from his two favourite reporters, would even know how to spot him. Vash had noticed they had left the chase alongside the mob that was tailing him a while ago, possibly half a day ago. Had they given up their pursuit? Why did that disappoint him so much?
Peering from his secluded nook, he watched and listened to Terran soldiers, bounty hunters and bandits alike. All of them expressed their inability to find him verbally. He had hidden in worm tunnels and caverns before, taking shelter from the relentless sunshine on any typical day, but it had been so long since he had to hide from so many people. It was harder to be a stranger to the remaining planet's population after the Ark, and the Terran soldiers surely were trained on his appearance. It would take years, decades maybe, to settle back into the comfortable obscurity of being a stranger again.
Yet, now he was not simply content to keep running until things settled down again. He had a request to fulfill. Vash did not want to test her patience any further. Part of him wanted to crawl further into the tunnels until the worms took him and picked him clean, finally letting the planet claim him and feast upon his sins. In his half-year recovery there was a recurring scratching, gnawing at the sides of his mind where he thought that it would be better if he simply did not wake up again.
But that wouldn’t be fair to the people that had come to care for him, and those that had cared for him. His death and eventual absence would burn at the edges of their psyches. He thought about how losing Wolfwood had coalesced with the rest of his enduring grief. Plus, in any sort of afterlife Wolfwood would never let him hear the end of it for ‘taking the easy way out’. He wouldn’t be able to face Rem either, and all the lost faces that he still remembered, clear as the planet’s skies. He would continue for the sake of the living and the dead - he owed that much to everyone. He owed living to the handful of friends that he loved dearly.
Eventually he would find something to live for, past a perceived debt. The darkness in his mind would abate to the light of love, even if he had to tend to a tiny flame with small tinders of hope. He wanted to see Meryl again, Milly too. He wanted to see his family on Ship 3 and wherever Livio had ended up. Vash was exhausted, but he would push himself forward once again. The adrenaline was starting to fade and it was getting harder to stay awake, even bunched up like a cube. Sleep would be the one to find him, even with his limbs wedged together uncomfortably, and the occasional worm not knowing the meaning of personal space. The time between entries by his pursuers had increased, and he was sure he had dozed off at one point until he heard talking.
"I bet those reporter girls are hiding him. They seem to be in cahoots with him."
A ruggish voice, the echo bouncing off the stone walls of the cavern. While he could not quite see them from his nook, he could make out the footsteps of three people. There was a bit of weight to their footsteps, possibly from carrying weapons or armour. Or perhaps from chasing a red clad outlaw for nearly thirty-six hours.
Another voice, another man with a slight accent. Despite the century and a half on a desert planet, some accents persisted against homogenisation into new local accents.
"Yeah, nah. Those girls don't have 'im. My mate said they got searched by the Terrans. No sign of him. Apparently one of them said he's gotta find them first this time."
His imperfect messenger had answered one of the questions on his mind at least. Those reporter girls had stopped following him. He would need to chase after them this time. But she would wait for him, as he had asked. The metaphorical light inside him burned a little brighter. He wanted to come home to them.
Vash kept still as possible as the three men searched through the caverns, who were climbing over eggs and stalagmites haphazardly. They shone a light near his location, but the glistening reflection of a worm was the only thing that met their torches. Like the others, they wandered around, voiced their complaints to one another and left. The worm had provided another layer of cover for his hiding spot, and he was starting to suspect it was doing that on purpose. While he did not understand it, the worms sang in a frequency most humans did not hear, and the resonance seemed to shift when anyone looking for him entered the cave.
Vash breathed a sigh of relief after he could no longer hear their voices or vehicles. He loosened his hiding position and curled against the tunnel floor to sleep. After spending months recovering in an actual house, he was starting to miss the company, and the upholstery, badly. He could feel the warm air and bright light permeate the cavern entrance. His nook stayed cool and relatively dark in comparison. Using his bag as a pillow, he drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of waking up in a comfy bed, nestled in fluffy pillows and a duvet. All his friends would be there when he woke up, and downstairs everyone would have a big cooked breakfast together.
Instead he would wake up to a worm trying to squeeze past him in the tunnelway where he slept. He shifted to the side sleepily, and the worm pushed past without thanks. Judging by the amount of light and heat, the sun outside had started to set not too long ago. Night-time was better to travel in, and he had a lot of ground to cover. He had already made Meryl wait months - and he would also interview better with a good night's rest. Vash slid down from his nook, thanked the worms for their hospitality and exited into the night, bag slung over his shoulder.
The box sat in the middle of the table, and Milly puffed up the pretty bow made of red ribbon tying the present together. Meryl sat across from the box at the table, her lips pursed in thought. They had just packed up the table after eating and Milly seemingly conjured the present out of thin air after she declared its existence over breakfast. She hadn’t seen Milly even obtain the box, let alone its contents. It's not the shape of a punnet of doughnuts, which she would have smelt. It's too large to be something small, like jewellery. The box was a similar size to a shoe box, but not the right shape. It wasn’t food or clothing, but anything it could have been could have been an unnecessary purchase. Their wages (after essentials, of course) had been sent home to Milly’s family or paid toward rebuilding efforts. She's surprised that Milly can afford, let alone find a present (and a nice box) in the fallout of the Ark incident, but tries not to question it too much. Milly had a way of getting things done and if she was intent on giving her a promotion present she wouldn't stop her, but it did mean she would have to one up and get her a present too.
"It's not a gun, is it?" Meryl asked, half guessing.
"Don't be silly, senpai! I'm not giving you another derringer. That wouldn't be a fun present."
True - and Meryl had downsized her derringer collection. Mostly due to necessity during the Ark incident, and for her own carrying capacity with all the new reporter tech. She had only the one left now - her first one, for mostly sentimental reasons. It still served as protection too in case Milly's stun gun didn't do the job. Now her reputation was her greatest weapon now - she didn't need the firepower to back it up. Being a well known reporter had its perks, but helping so many people saw better merits.
Meryl’s fingers went to toy with the bow’s tassels, but Milly gently smacked her hand away before she touched it.
“No opening the present until Vash gets here."
Was it for him too? Meryl pouted. Maybe it was a box of doughnuts. A knock on the door interrupted the both of them.
“I’ll get it!” Milly voiced her excitement and raced to answer the door.
The duo had been staying in a once-abandoned ranch, using it as an impromptu base of operations. Its original occupants had not returned for it. Bernadelli had been hounding them to get back on reporting on Vash, but had eased off once their other reports had shown improved morale and boosted viewership. It was an intentional play on their part, they had both gotten pretty good at finding him, time and time again. If they wanted to, they could find him easily enough, but now it was his turn to find them, his turn to make good on his promise.
Much to Milly’s visible disappointment, it was not Vash on the other side of the door. Instead stood what looked to be a Terran official of some kind, a dressed down version of their on-ground soldiers. Their face was covered by a helmet and visor, and they passed Milly an envelope without so much as a word. Back at the dining table, Meryl tensed up and gripped at the edges of the table. Had those guys come to invasively search the house and the van again? Vash was not here, and for once they didn’t know where he was - why couldn’t they just leave him alone? The Terran, clearly just a courier or messenger, politely bowed and ran back to their motorbike parked a short distance away. The metallic hum of the engine starting up and the bike racing off could still be heard behind the closed door.
The tall woman returned back to Meryl and passed her the envelope. Meryl ran her thumb over the envelope. It's silky smooth, bright white in the overhanging lights. The glare almost hurt to look at. On the front it’s addressed to her personally, her name in pretty cursive writing - but she can’t feel the indents a pen would normally make on paper. On the back is a stamped seal with an intricate holographic pattern courtesy of the official governing body of Earth and its colonies.
It had been a little over six months since the Ark, and just a couple of days after she and Milly had last seen Vash. While they were tasked with reporting on a certain Humanoid Typhoon, they had been reporting on and pitching in on rebuilding efforts in his absence instead. Their charitable work probably isn’t why Meryl has caught the attention of Earth officials, she figures, but rather with Mr. Vance’s report of the situation months prior.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Milly leans over, taking a seat next to Meryl.
She could at least now open one of the things given to her today, at least. Her thumb pressed open the back of the envelope, and the seal popped up. Inside was a letter and several attached pages of wordy documents. She placed the letter in between her and Milly so the both of them could read it at the same time.
Miss Stryfe,
As you may know, re-contact with your planet has not been ideal, and we believe you to be an exemplary model of the people of NO MAN’S LAND. We humbly request your assistance in cultivating the friendship between Earth and her colonies to include your planet’s people back into the fold of humanity.
We invite you and your colleague to personally visit our lovely home planet, and to create a means to fill the gaps of the last few centuries. You will personally create a correspondence series to be broadcast both on the planet NO MAN’S LAND and also to Earth and her colonies. We hope that this material will help people, both born on your planet and those still in cryostasis to better understand the galaxy as it is now.
Please find attached the details of what we expect from such a televised series and what to expect from a journey back to our lovely home planet, Earth.
Co-signed the director of the Ministry of Colony Affairs, and the head of the No-Man’s Broadcasting Department of Bernadelli.
Meryl recognised her boss’s signature, but not the name of the Earth official. Could she even afford to say no to this if her boss was on board with it? Why wasn’t Milly also properly addressed to? Skimming through the attached documents she saw travel itinerary details, the specs on the equipment to be loaned and some example segments she could report on. The last she had heard, Earth was a barren, toxic wasteland at the hands of humanity’s greed. She groaned and pushed the papers away from her. The people of No Man’s Land deserved to know about the rest of humanity, but this whole thing smelt of Terran propaganda.
“Why don’t you take Vash with you?” Milly was playing with the holographic seal from the envelope, twisting it every way under the lights.
“What?” Meryl blinked, unsure why her friend and colleague suddenly suggested that.
“It would be a good hiding spot. For Vash. No one would think to look for him back on Earth.”
Part of her hated to admit that it was a pretty clever idea. They had planned to hide Vash with their reporting work across the planet, but there was a huge risk of them being discovered. It didn’t feel right dragging along the plant on a leash - they both wanted him to have his autonomy and freedom. If they were, or rather when they would be discovered, Meryl and Milly would lose their jobs at the very least. Likely then imprisoned for harbouring a fugitive. Vash would be dragged off to some laboratory to be tested and prodded by the Terrans, perhaps cut open in an autopsy. Their friend deserved some semblance of a sheltered life, even if none of them led ‘normal’ lives.
The documentation and itinerary only allowed for one companion with Meryl. Milly already knew this, judging by her choice of words. She was so quick to give up the opportunity for Vash’s sake.
“It would be.” Meryl admitted. “But what would you do? I would feel bad for leaving you behind, and I’m sure Vash would too.”
“Well, I could finally properly visit my family.” There was a hint of sadness in Milly’s voice, but a bittersweet smile spread across her face. “And I could continue our work back here. Have a go at being in front of the camera. Your letters would make great material for the Milly newsletter too!”
“Fiiiiine. I’ll take the stupid propaganda job.” Meryl collected up the paperwork again, taking a closer look at the details. “But if Vash doesn’t want to go then it’s off. I’m not going to force him to come with me.”
“Deal. You’ll both need to write home often! I also expect you to be on your best behaviour around Mr. Vash without me.”
“Milly!” Meryl playfully smacked her on the nose with a tube of rolled up documents, hoping to wipe off the devious smile on her partner’s face.
The two reporters kept in contact with Bernardelli and the No Man’s Land Broadcasting department via the radio system integrated into the van. Meryl would radio in every morning after breakfast for the day’s assignment details and any updates from headquarters. Even with the letter’s arrival, today would be no different. Sitting in the driver’s seat, the engine idling, she dialled in HQ’s frequency and requested a response. HQ responded quickly and she heard the boss’s voice through the speaker.
“I got your letter about the Terran job.” Meryl held the receiver up to her face.
“Good. Can I assume you’re taking the job?”
“Milly and I need some time to think about it, if that’s okay.” They had to wait for Vash’s arrival first before they had a definite answer. “It’s a lot to take in.”
There was a brief silence of radio static. It was hard to gauge his reaction without seeing his face. How on board was he sending his closest connections to the fabled Humanoid Typhoon off planet, really.
“That’s… fair.” At least he was being reasonable about it. “I will need your answer within a few days though, Stryfe. Those Terrans expect an answer soon.”
“Yessir. Today Milly and I are going to continue on our report on that nearby town’s rebuilding efforts. Sound good?”
“No sign of the Humanoid Typhoon, I presume?” Meryl could practically feel him fume from the other end. Vash was his ticket to big viewership numbers and advertisement buyouts on the station. Nothing spelt double-dollars like a juicy exclusive report.
“No. You’ll be the first to know if we see him. Over and out.” She cut the transmission and turned the speakers off.
“I have a good feeling we’ll see Vash soon.” Milly climbed into the passenger’s seat, buckling herself in.
Meryl hoped so too, and they both drove towards their day's assignment.