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TRY MY NEW(KIND OF) FANFIC: ONE PIECE: SOL RAGNAROK
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(The Ark)
The Ark has recently become a dying machine, its air thick with the cold reality of slow decay. In the medical bay, Dr. Abigail Griffin moved with the determination of someone fighting a losing battle. She was operating on minimal sleep and maximum effort. Their only hope lay thousands of miles below, with the children they had sentenced to Earth.
Her accomplice, Raven Reyes, the Ark's most brilliant and stubborn mechanic, was already in the heavily secured docking bay. Raven was finishing the preparations for a mission that was, by all logical measures, a suicide run. The small, modified emergency life-pod was their last, best chance to confirm if the 100 had survived the place they called home long ago.
"The launch sequence is calibrated, Abby," Raven's voice crackled through the comms built into Abby's uniform. "But without that pressure regulator, the Manta is just a metal coffin. The atmospheric friction will shear the thermal shielding off and incinerate the hull long before I even reach the outer atmosphere. I need that part, and it has to be perfect."
"I know the risk, Raven. And I know the stakes," Abby whispered back, pulling on a technician's utility suit. The regulator, which was a bulky, complex piece of equipment crucial for stabilizing the ship during extreme temperature shifts, was not an easy part to find. It was locked away in the restricted storage sector of Alpha Station, under automated surveillance and armed guard. "I have the clearance codes for the dome. I need fifteen minutes inside the vault. You focus on reinforcing the emergency ballast lines."
The plan was reckless, demanding perfect timing and total silence. Abby moved through the silent corridors of Alpha Station. She bypassed the initial security drones with a series of quick, practiced keyboard inputs, while her hands were trembling. The vault itself was a massive, climate-controlled dome, holding decades of salvaged historical technology filled with treasures labeled irrelevant until the moment the Ark began to choke.
Luckily, she quickly located the regulator, which was kept high on a central shelving unit. Abby managed to poke the regulator loose. Just as she picked the heavy piece of equipment, the main corridor access hissed open.
A voice cut through the room. Marcus Kane stood in the doorway, flanked by two armed guards, his face visible with disappointment and duty.
"Abigail. Stand down," Kane ordered.
"Marcus, please," Abby pleaded, clutching the regulator. Her desperation overcame her fear. "This is not treason. This is our only chance at saving everyone. The children are the key to survival. They must be alive."
"The children are criminals who violated every law we hold sacred, and you are committing high treason," Kane stated, stepping further into the dome. "You tampered with vital life-support systems to access this equipment. The safety of the Ark must come before your parental desperation. Your actions could have initiated a catastrophic depressurization in this sector."
Abby knew arguing was useless. She slid the heavy regulator on the floor, aiming it directly at a small, recessed ventilation shaft near the floor.
"Raven! Now! I'm sending it!"
Kane's guards lunged, but they were a second too slow. Abby was placed in restraints, the cold metal cuffs clicking shut on her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back.
As the guards led her away, forcing her toward the detention block, Abby looked back at Kane, her eyes burning with a fierce, absolute conviction.
"You cling to rules while we all die, Marcus. I found a way to save us. You just arrested the only doctor willing to use it."
Meanwhile, in the isolated, pressurized docking bay hundreds of feet away, Raven Reyes received the heavy part. It clanged into the airlock receiver with a loud thud, narrowly missing the delicate optical scanners.
"Copy that, Abby. Regulator received. Launching now."
Raven slammed the exterior docking seal shut and strapped herself into the pilot's seat of the dropship. She operated the controls with furious speed, her mind racing ahead of the alarms that were now echoing throughout the station. She overrode the main computer lockouts and initiated the launch sequence manually. The small shuttle shuddered violently as the explosive bolts detonated, separating the fragile craft from the mother ship.
Raven had no co-pilot, no navigation team, and no backup plan. All she had was her raw engineering genius and a deep, driving need to reach the boy she loved. She guided the modified life pod towards the targeted site. She watched the Ark shrink behind her.
The ship accelerated, its small engines straining against the vacuum. Raven monitored the newly installed pressure regulator. It was holding steady. Her true test, however, was still ahead: the heat of re-entry.
"If the 100 made it," Raven muttered, her knuckles white on the stick, "then I can make it too."
(Trikru Territory - Tonas Village)
Two days had passed since the meeting, and the Trikru leadership had been busy. Mike had spent the time checking up on the deep forest surveillance cameras, a web of surveillance he had laid down to safeguard the Trikru territory.
Anya stood near the perimeter of the command encampment, her gaze fixed on the jungle.
After a while, Mike emerged, his clothes a little damp, carrying a waterproof sealed pack that contained surveillance equipment.
"Adding another layer of cameras?" Anya asked.
"The kids are staying put, who knows when they move again, plus you can never be sure with the mountain men," Mike replied, dropping his pack. "I swept the western ridge. All of the cameras are fine and working."
He pointed toward the thick treeline. The surveillance system was one of the many impressive tools he had in his so-called 'ancient' tomb.
Flashback
Mike moved through the dense forest. His plan? Using his 'toys'. He had installed the tiny, thermal-sensing cameras high up in the dense canopy, concealed by thick vines and foliage. He used a small, wrist-mounted electronic tether to link them all back to a buried, low-frequency transmitter near the village. These weren't security cameras; they were intelligence collectors. This system was how they had always been able to successfully track any mountain men entering their territory undetected. Mike had repurposed them for gathering strategic intelligence. The system provided continuous, real-time thermal and motion data in a ten-mile radius around their capital.
"The power regulators are holding just fine; they draw barely any electricity, and the solar collectors keep the battery topped up for continuous recording. Damn, this stuff is perfect."
End Flashback
Mike paused, his eyes drifting toward the central command tent. "And while I was out there, I checked the perimeter." He smiled as he turned back towards his beautiful wife. "I saw the latest additions to the central canvas(The bodies on the cross). I have to say that was a fine piece of work you added to the 'art-work' in my absence. The cuts of the tidal flats and the eastern ridge fortifications? You really carved patterns on that poor lady. When did you grow so much?"
Anya's sharp expression softened into a genuine smile. "You have a way with words, Blad-de-Trikru. Flattery will get you exactly where you want to be."
She crossed the short space, pulling him into a sudden kiss.
After a long moment, she pulled back. Both of them just stared at each other for a while, then started laughing together. It was a rare moment of peace in their world of constant battles.
Just then, the moment was ruined by the sound of boots crushing the packed earth outside the tent. A warrior marched to them and performed a short, stiff salute.
"Chief. Blad-de-Trikru. We have caught two unknowns near the Southern border. They were running through the woods with no direction. By their clothing, they must be with the SkyKru."
Anya's smile vanished instantly, replaced by the coldness of the chief. "Bring them."
Mike's eyes widened slightly, a low whistle escaping his lips. "Well, would you look at that. That was fast. The forest does the work for us."
He watched the warrior leave, then looked back at Anya, wondering what was cooking in her mind. The warrior returned, forcing two captives forward with the points of their spears.
The first was a tall, pale youth, his clothing ripped, his face a mask of terror and hatred, the ultimate cockroach of this world, the one and only: Murphy. The second was a tiny, shaking girl, her head bowed, her face full of dried tears. She was none other than the youngest member of the 100: Charlotte.
Mike instantly recognized them: the bully who ran, and the child who caused the chaos.
'Talk about butterfly effects, '
Mike thought, suppressing a grin. Murphy running. Charlotte running. The two biggest catalysts for chaos in that camp, delivered right to our doorstep. This is better than a parley. The universe just handed them the perfect opportunity.
He stepped forward, his expression turning serious.
"Things just got a lot easier," Mike said quietly. "We don't need to infiltrate their camp; their failures are literally falling into our hands."
Anya stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the broken figures before her. "We will find out exactly what they are worth."