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A Little Stagger Snippet - Pyeknu - 06-27-2012 Hello, everyone, It's been a while for me since I last was on this board, so I hope all's well with everyone here, including our delightful hosts. Anyhow, here's a little something I just wrote tonight. The muses are being silly with me today. Cheers! Fred **** **** **** The Loon and the Ladies from Avalon by Fred Herriot **** **** **** Based on Drunkard's Walk, created by Robert M. Schroeck; and Phoenix From the Ashes, created by Fred Herriot **** **** **** Local date: Unknown, Location: Unknown I woke up in a tall field of grass. Blinking as I noted the sun high in the sky, I then sensed some dirt lying on my face and touching my lips. Spitting out same as I reached up to wipe my face clean, I then moaned as I slowly boosted myself into a sitting position with my elbows. Looking through my helmet's eye protectors, I was quick to notice that I was in what appeared to be a well-trampled military training reservation. The worn-down track ruts – while quite fresh – clearly indicated this was some sort of tank range. Before I could take a detailed look around, my ears then picked up something. A tank's diesel engine. Sensing the slight tremor in the Earth under my butt, I quickly turned to look where the noise was coming from . . . and then gaped on seeing a very impressive-looking machine come out from behind a thick stand of trees, racing down a nearby path at a VERY good clip. On recognising said tank as a Leopard 2 – the main battle tank of the German Army and a few other armies – I then blinked as nearly-forgotten briefings on such machines came back to me. Leopards were diesel-driven machines; they didn't have the turbine engine an M1A1 Abrams possessed. Yet this machine here . . .! I then winced as said machine suddenly came to a screeching halt – a "combat stop" as it was called amongst regular Army boys worldwide – and then the commander's hatch popped open to allow said commander to lean out and look my way. Whoo, boy . . . "There you are!" I perked on hearing that shout from somewhere to my left, and then I turned . . . . . . to find a small group of women walking towards me, visibly armed in what seemed to be fighting order and clearly out for a wonderful constitutional in the boonies. While not recognising the actual pattern of their camouflage shirts and pants – not to mention their web gear and even then boots! – I was quick to see the low-visibility flags on their shoulders. One with a simple design of dark sides with a pale middle the same width as the flag's height, a stylised maple leaf placed there. Okay. I was somewhere in Canada. Or possibly in Germany butting in on a NATO exercise being run by the First Canadian Infantry Division, whose 4th Brigade was – as I barely could remember in my universe – based in the Black Forest of Baden-Württemberg near the Rhine River. A glance back at the tank. Yep. Black maple leaf on the turret. "I'm in Germany, aren't I?" I then asked the person whom I believe called out to me. A shake of the head as a too cute for words smile crossed her camouflaged face. "No, you're currently in the exercise area of Canadian Forces Base Niagara, sir," she answered in a polite voice as she slung her rifle – an M16A2 derivative, not the Canadian-built FN FAL rifle soldiers of that nation used when I was last on my Earth – over her shoulder. Her friends were also relaxing as they slung their weapons. That struck me immediately as odd. Unless . . . "Am I home?" I whispered. Sympathy seemed to flow out from all their faces. "No, sir," the woman who had spoken to me replied, looking as if she wished to take personal responsibly for my decades-long separation from my home dimension and my wife. What the heck? "Haida detected the space-warp that brought you onto the exercise range about ten minutes ago. We were busy enjoying some time out in the field after coming back to rejoin our battalion after graduating from trades training at the Valcartier Garrison." I smiled. "Vandoos?!" A grin came back. "No. Canadian Guards. First Battalion." A nod. Canadian troops assigned to the Warriors often came from that youngest of the Dominion's six full-time infantry regiments. "A unit worthy of its hire," I then complemented them, which made them blush to their toes even under the camouflage. "Thank you," she replied as she gave me a knowing look. "I assume you come from a universe where the Regiment also exists?" she asked. "It does, Guardsman," I replied, noting her rank slip-on on her front was blank over the unit tag CG; obviously, the short-form title of the Regiment of Canadian Guards. "Sometimes frowned on by the old boys in the Vandoos, the Royal Canadians and the Princess Pats, but they do their job and take good pride in it." I then moved to stand. "I apologise for butting in on your exercise. How is it . . .?" Turning to gaze to the southwest, I stopped . . . . . . on seeing HER. "Oh – my – GOD!" The guardsmen all grinned. "That's Haida," the one who had been talking to me proudly declared. I blinked, gazed on her for a moment, and then turned back to gaze on the cigar-shaped starship floating serenely over the ground in the near-distance. One honkin' HUGE starship to boot! And incredible as this is going to sound . . . . . . it had the Canadian flag painted on the hull aft of amidships. "Yeah . . .!" I breathed out. THIS was going to be different . . . * * * Local date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 1322 hours EDT Local location: Over Canadian Forces Base Niagara (east of Welland, Ontario), "Hey!" I perked on hearing that voice, and then looked up to see a smiling Navy medic – I assumed she was Navy given her nearly-black work dress uniform, black beret with the badge of the Canadian Forces Medical Services on it and the blank rank slip-ons on her shoulders, though those were decorated with a very nicely-designed unit tag with the word HAIDA in orange-gold on a dark blue field surrounded by ship's rope and topped by a British-type naval coronet – gazing at me. "Yeah?" I asked. "You sure you don't need to get into Sickbay?" she asked. For the fifth time since I got aboard this rather LARGE shuttlecraft – it was called a "Star Flare" and looked like a weird mix of a Lambda-class shuttle from Star Wars and the Gemini-class shuttle from Battlestar Galactica – which had, some minutes before, picked up Mrs. Sangoir's only son from the exercise field now over a kilometre below the keel and was now taking me aboard Her Majesty's Canadian Starship Haida. Yep. You read that right, folks. Starship. In the Year of Our Lord TWO-THOUSAND AND ELEVEN, to boot! How the HELL that was possible, I couldn't BEGIN to guess. Still, it was a change of pace compared to other times over the last several decades that I've initially arrived in other dimensions. Clearly, the tech – which was WAY above Earth baseline for MY own dimension, not to mention all the other places I've been to in my travels – could sniff out dimensional breaches with great ease. And clearly, whoever was controlling the tech in Canada was either knowledgeable enough or experienced enough to make going out to find my lonesome self quite easy. Even better, I didn't have to cook up false identities and find some way to fit in while I waited for the chance to find a proper Gate song to move onto the next step of my journey. That told me one good thing about these people. They had experience in dealing with dimensional crossings. How that would benefit me, I couldn't begin to guess. But I hoped to barter my own experiences for all the help they could give me. Noting a pair of very lovely green eyes staring knowingly at me, I gave the medic – her family name was SASAMOTO as stitched on her left chest under the twin-headed thunderbird ship's crest of Haida – a smirk. "When I normally drop unexpected into a new dimension, I'm normally quite whole and healthy if not conscious at the time the transition occurs, Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto," I explained. "I'm just glad that after doing my latest Gate jump, I came to a place where I could get help right away in lieu of being sneaky about it and being forced into quasi-legal and sometimes-immoral acts to forge a false identity so I could interface with the local population." "Wow! He's roughing it, isn't he?" the guardsman – I spotted her name, CROCE, on her tunic – said as she exchanged a knowing look with the medic. "That he is, Henrietta-chan," the medic answered. I then blinked. They were talking in Japanese . . . . . . while my ears picked up their words in clear English. "Translation field?" I asked in Nihon-go. "Omni-translation field," the medic stated as those green eyes of hers sparkled with amusement. "It can interpret any language a sentient can speak and translate it automatically into the native language of the speaker. So if you're more comfortable speaking English, sir, speak in English. We can all understand you." I nodded. "How come you're travelling from dimension to dimension?" Guardsman Croce – I felt it a little improper to call her "Henrietta" even if she struck me as being about twenty years of age – then asked. "Are you an explorer?" A sigh as I decided to honour their obvious concern with the truth. "I'm a metahuman warrior who serves in a group working for the United Nations in my universe," I explained. "In a battle many decades ago in my time-line, I was propelled into an alternate universe. Over the following years, I've travelled from universe to universe in hopes of rejoining my friends and my wife." I opened up my jacket and pulled out the necklace bearing my wedding band. "It's been quite interesting, but believe me . . . HEY!" The "hey" came from something that reminded me a little too much of Minakami Wataru's twelve half-sisters – save Chikage, of course – and how they reacted whenever something their "Big Brother" did or said broke their hearts. An honest-to-goodness Hug of True Love from the medic and ALL the guardsmen! I tried not to blush TOO much on feeling that . . . * * * The landing of the Star Flare on the upper flight deck of H.M.C.S. Haida was pretty much like the landing of any shipboard helicopter aboard any navy vessel that wasn't a purpose-built aircraft carrier: Come to a hover over the green flight deck with the yellow landing lines and the white HA at the aft end, square off on the centre of the deck, and then gently drop down until solid rubber tires kissed metal deck. Even better, since the ship was only about a kilometre above the Welland By-Pass that split its home base from the urban part of the Rose City of Ontario, the outside atmosphere was quite breathable . . . as witness the opening of the Flare's cargo doors aft onto the deck, thus allowing myself and my current escorts – with Guardsman Croce and Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto having wrapped one of their arms around one of mine – to walk onto a very clear day over the Niagara region, with Lake Erie in the near distance. As soon as we were aboard the starship – and my mind was STILL boggling at the idea of a NATION on Earth having a STARSHIP of all things! – proper, the group around me paused as they straightened to attention, and then saluted the large ensign flying off what appeared to be a sensor vane sticking up from the fantail of the ship between the exhaust ports of a pair of ramjet-like engines that could swallow a whole AIRCRAFT CARRIER from my universe with room to spare! Realising that despite these girls' quite friendly attitudes that they were still-serving soldiers and sailors of the Queen of Canada, I straightened myself and gave the flag – a Canadian version of the British White Ensign with a blue cross and the Maple Leaf Flag in the canton – a Sandhurst-perfect salute. That caused my companions to all blink in surprise. "Are you a serviceman?" OS Sasamoto then asked. "Technically, I'm a colonel in the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Force, code-named 'Warriors Alpha,'" I explained. "The rank is honorary to me but to those who care for it, it's quite real." I gave her a wink. "I assume British shipboard rules still run the Royal Canadian Navy? Or is it still Canadian Forces Maritime Command?" "MARCOM for now," the medic stated, a smirk crossing her face. "That might change in the near future; you know how RUMINT can be at times." I smirked. RUMINT: Rumour Intelligence, sometimes the most reliable information one could get in the military. "Indeed I do. And . . . " I straightened myself as I properly saluted her. "Permission to come aboard, Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto?" She returned my salute. "Grated, Colonel . . .?" "Douglas Q. Sangoir, code-named 'Looney Tunes.' Call me Doug." She smiled as she lowered her arm. "Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto Narumi. We use proper Oriental name-order in the United Nations Earth Defence Force. Welcome aboard." I shook her hand . . . and then perked as someone came walking our way from the large hangar deck structure forward, where the Star Flare that brought us aboard was now being wheeled into to join three sisters already folded up in their parking spaces. Said person, I was quick to note, also appeared Japanese . . . even if her brown hair was done up in a high beehive on the back of her head and she had amethyst eyes. She was in the same uniform Narumi wore, but her shoulder boards had the single gold stripe – with that funny circular loop British navy officers wore on their uniforms – of their equivalent of a United States Navy ensign over her ship's unit tags. She also had the badge of the Naval Operations Branch of the Canadian Forces on her beret. "Our traveller from another dimension, Narumi-chan?" she asked, smiling. "Hai, Tomomi-chan. May I present Douglas Sangoir-taisa of the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Forces in his dimension. His battle-name is 'Looney Tunes,'" Narumi then stated. "Doug-san, this is Yoshino Tomomi-shoi, junior ship's combat warfare director. In case you don't know, her rank in Canada is 'acting sub-lieutenant;' I can hear the London accent in your voice even if your words are clearly American." "Yes, I am American, Narumi-chan," I said as I reached up to unbuckle and slip off my helmet. I was quick to sense the appraising looks all the girls around me were giving, though Tomomi was quick to see my wedding band. "And believe me, that I'm in the land of my homeland's brother born of the same mother does my heart a world of good." "Wonderful," Tomomi stated. "In the meantime, Hiromi-onesama awaits. This way." She turned and headed to a recessed stairwell in the middle of the flight deck close to the hangar. "What do you want done with your motorcycle, Doug-san?" Henrietta asked. "Could you put it somewhere safe, Henrietta-chan?" I asked in turn. "And PLEASE, don't take it apart! I had a nosy goddess of the future do that in one of my longer stays and I prefer not to go through putting it back together again." "Which goddess of the future?" Tomomi asked. "Skuld." A surprised look crossed her face. "From A Megami-sama?!" I blinked in confusion . . . * * * Somewhere, a different dimension, "AH-CHOO!" "Bless you, Skuld! Are you alright?" A moan. "Someone's talking about me, One-sama!" Belldandy hummed. "I wonder who would it be . . .?" * * * - Bob Schroeck - 06-27-2012 Hey, Fred, welcome back! And that was a fun fragment. Any chance of there being more? -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - Pyeknu - 06-27-2012 Might be. How would Doug react to something like the UNEDF in the year 2011? Did I get it right? - Pyeknu - 06-27-2012 Quick snippet before work. **** **** **** Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 1331 hours EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A12 Aft, Flag Officer's Level, Tomomi knocked at the open doorway. "One-sama?" "Enter, minna," a voice called back in Japanese. "You found him?" "Hai, One-sama, we did," Henrietta stated as she waved me into the room. Looking around, I was quickly taken by the somewhat spartan nature of what appeared to be a reception room for visitors. There was a work desk aft with a small meeting table in the middle of the room. Bookshelves lined all the bulkheads save for the main door and a side door that I assumed opened into the personal living quarters of the – as Tomomi had explained when we came here – Director of the Volunteer United Nations Earth Defence Force. Whose insignia – a blue U.N. flag with the wreathed globe over a cross crusader sword and Japanese katana – was hanging from the wall, bracketed on both sides by the Canadian White Ensign and the national flag of Japan. Which made sense since the woman who had greeted Tomomi had also spoken in Japanese. So what was she doing on a Canadian starship? Starship . . . Damn! I'm STILL boggling over that! Said woman – who had been seated at her work desk typing away on some sort of laptop computer – turned to gaze at me, and then smiled. "Welcome aboard, good traveller," she said as she stood up and walked over, her hand out. "Are you alright?" I was gaping at her. The Director of the Force was a teenager?! Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay . . . this was DEFINITELY a new one on me . . . * * * Gazing at the handsome man – she put his physical age at about early thirties, though his eyes flashed a look that indicated that he was a lot older; Are the humans of his Earth as long lived as Vosians or Avalonians? – Moroboshi Hiromi then smiled as she pulled her hand away, giving him a knowing look. "Never expected something like this?" He blinked and then flustered. "Not really . . . " A chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about that, good sir," she stated. "You'll find a lot of things in this universe to be quite unique. But I'm sure that your universe has its own many mysteries as well, especially given the fact that you are a metahuman." As he gaped at her, she smirked. "Our sensors picked up those interesting quirks in your DNA when we first detected you on the training range. Natural-born or fate-gifted?" He gaped. "Um, natural-born . . . " A nod. "Well, no doubt whatever Powers control our lives felt you worthy to gain such gifts," she stated as she waved him to a chair. "Here, sit! Be comfortable! You've probably had a bit of a harrowing journey, so you need to relax." Another blink, and then he did as she bade. "One-sama, this is Douglas Sangoir-taisa, a member of the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Forces in his universe," Narumi then stated. "He's known by the battle-name 'Looney Tunes' and he prefers to be called 'Doug.' Doug-san, this is Moroboshi Hiromi-onêsama, the Director of the United Nations Earth Defence Force. Her battle-name amongst those like her is 'Ryuko Kyorei.' Also a third-year high school student at Tomobiki High School, Class Four." He blinked several times, and then he gaped. "TOMOBIKI?!" * * * Update and Some Changes - Pyeknu - 06-28-2012 Decided to do some minor tweaks after thinking about it while I was busy handling customers' needs. And add some more. **** **** **** Local date and time: Monday 10 May 2011, 5:11 AM JST, Local location: Senshobu-jinja, Tomobiki-cho, Nishitokyo-shi, Tokyo-to, "No . . . this is wrong . . . " Hearing that moaning voice from the heiden of Tomobiki's only serving Shinto shrine, Sakurambo Sakura turned to look at her young ward as she focused her mind and soul upon the ancient device that had saved so many lives over the previous year. "Mizuho . . . " the shrine miko/part-time school nurse whispered. As she stood to walk over and try to comfort the shaking Inada Mizuho, Sakura's mage-sight clicked in as she sensed powerful tendrils of energy – invisible to the naked eye – emit from the transmitter crystal of the Staff of Gihan to probe into the young girl's mind. After a moment of incomprehensible mumbling, Mizuho's normally pale blue eyes then snapped open as she stared at the high ceiling. "NEVER!" The Staff's focusing crystal flared to full power and sent a burning bolt of raw energy through the roof of the heiden – not damaging it, much to Sakura's private relief – and into the skies over Tomobiki, disappearing behind some clouds as it rocketed into space . . . and then broke through the dimensional barriers to go Elsewhere. Sakura blinked as Mizuho seemed to slump into a barely-conscious daze on the floor as a side door opened to reveal the younger girl's bond-mate, Niimi Rena. As the other would-be shrine miko moved to comfort the would-be Zoroastrian warrior-priestess, Sakura tried not to sigh too much . . . before her cell phone rang. "Moshi-moshi." "I will be there in ten minutes, Sakura." Click. Dial tone. Moaning as she hung up her phone, Sakura shook her head. "What happened?" Rena blinked as she gazed at her guardian. "Mizuho sensed a wandering warrior caught in the vortex between dimensions . . . and sensed something dark and evil about to destroy him. She . . . brought him here for his own personal safety." "Where?" Rena gave the older woman a knowing look. "Wonderful . . . " Sakura muttered as she moved to head back into her kitchen. Hiromi won't like this . . .! **** **** **** The Loon and the Ladies from Avalon by Fred Herriot **** **** **** Based on Drunkard's Walk, created by Robert M. Schroeck; and Phoenix From the Ashes, created by Fred Herriot **** **** **** Local date: Unknown, Local location: Unknown I woke up in a tall field of grass. Blinking as I noted the sun high in the sky, I then sensed some dirt lying on my face and touching my lips. Spitting out same as I reached up to wipe my face clean, I then moaned as I slowly boosted myself into a sitting position with my elbows. Looking through my helmet's eye protectors, I was quick to notice that I was in what appeared to be a well-trampled military training reservation. The worn-down track ruts nearby – while quite fresh – clearly indicated this was some sort of tank range. Before I could take a detailed look around, my ears then picked up something. A tank's diesel engine going full-throttle. Sensing the slight tremor in the Earth under my butt, I quickly turned to look where the noise was coming from . . . and then gaped on seeing a very impressive-looking machine come out from behind a thick stand of trees, racing down a nearby path at a VERY good clip. On recognising said tank as a Leopard 2 – the main battle tank of the German Army and a few other armies – I then blinked as nearly-forgotten briefings on such machines came back to me. Leopards were diesel-driven machines; they didn't have the turbine engine an M1A1 Abrams possessed. Yet this machine here . . .! I then winced as said machine suddenly came to a screeching halt – a "combat stop" as it was called amongst regular Army boys worldwide – and then the commander's hatch popped open to allow said commander to lean out and look my way. Whoo, boy . . . "There you are!" I perked on hearing that shout from somewhere to my left, and then I turned . . . . . . to find a small group of women walking towards me, visibly armed in what seemed to be fighting order and clearly out for a wonderful constitutional in the boonies. While not recognising the actual pattern of their camouflage shirts and pants – not to mention their web gear and even then boots! – I was quick to see the low-visibility flags on their shoulders. One with a simple design of dark sides with a pale middle the same width as the flag's height, a stylised maple leaf placed there. Okay. I was somewhere in Canada. Or possibly in Germany butting in on a NATO exercise being run by the First Canadian Infantry Division, whose 4th Brigade was – as I barely could remember in my universe – based in the Black Forest of Baden-Württemberg near the Rhine River. A glance back at the tank. Yep. Black maple leaf on the turret. "I'm in Germany, aren't I?" I then asked the person whom I believe called out to me. A shake of the head as a too cute for words smile crossed her camouflaged face. "No, you're currently in the exercise area of Canadian Forces Base Niagara, sir," she answered in a polite voice as she slung her rifle – an M16A2 derivative, not the Canadian-built FN FAL rifle soldiers of that nation used when I was last on my Earth – over her shoulder. Her friends were also relaxing as they slung their weapons. That struck me immediately as odd. "You're just outside the city of Welland in Ontario," the soldier then said. She waved to where I believed was the west according to the sun's position in the sky, and then she waved northeast. "Niagara Falls is about fifteen kilometres that way." Unless . . . "Am I home?" I whispered. Sympathy seemed to flow out from all their faces. "No, sir," the woman who had spoken to me replied, looking as if she wished to take personal responsibly for my decades-long separation from my home dimension and my wife. What the heck . . .? "Haida detected the space-warp that brought you onto the exercise range about ten minutes ago. We were busy enjoying some time out in the field after coming back to rejoin our battalion after graduating from trades training at the Valcartier Garrison." I smiled. "Vandoos?!" A grin came back. "No. Canadian Guards. First Battalion." A nod. Canadian troops assigned to the Warriors often came from that youngest of the Dominion's six full-time infantry regiments. "A unit worthy of its hire," I then complemented them, which made them blush to their toes even under the camouflage. "Thank you," she replied as she gave me a knowing look. "I assume you come from a universe where the Regiment also exists?" she asked. "It does, Guardsman," I replied, noting her rank slip-on on her front was blank over the unit tag CG; obviously, the short-form title of the Regiment of Canadian Guards. Having lived in London for a long time, I knew all the peculiarities about the various units of the Household Guards, which had been replicated with the Canadian Guards when they were formed in the 1950s. "Sometimes frowned on by the boys in the Vandoos, the Royal Canadians and the Princess Pats, but they do their job and take pride in it." I moved to stand. "I apologise for butting in on your exercise. How is it . . .?" Turning to gaze to the southwest, I stopped . . . . . . on seeing HER. "Oh – my – GOD!" The guardsmen all grinned. "That's Haida," the one who had been talking to me proudly declared. I blinked, gazed on her for a moment, and then turned back to gaze on the cigar-shaped starship floating serenely over the ground in the near-distance. One honkin' HUGE starship to boot! And incredible as this is going to sound . . . . . . it had the Canadian flag painted on the hull aft of amidships. "Yeah . . .!" I breathed out. THIS was going to be different . . . * * * Local date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 1322 hours EDT Local location: Over Canadian Forces Base Niagara (east of Welland, Ontario), "Hey!" I perked on hearing that voice, and then looked up to see a smiling Navy medic – I assumed she was Navy given her nearly-black work dress uniform, black beret with the badge of the Canadian Forces Medical Services on it and the blank rank slip-ons on her shoulders, though those were decorated with a very nicely-designed unit tag with the word HAIDA in orange-gold on a dark blue field surrounded by ship's rope and topped by a British-type naval coronet – gazing at me. "Yeah?" I asked. "You sure you don't need to get into Sickbay?" she asked. For the fifth time since I got aboard this rather LARGE shuttlecraft – it was called a "Star Flare" and looked like a weird mix of a Lambda-class shuttle from Star Wars and the Gemini-class shuttle from Battlestar Galactica – which had, some minutes before, picked up Mrs. Sangoir's only son from the exercise field now over a kilometre below the keel and was now taking me aboard Her Majesty's Canadian Starship Haida. Yep. You read that right, folks. Starship. In the Year of Our Lord TWO-THOUSAND AND ELEVEN, to boot! How the HELL that was possible, I couldn't BEGIN to guess. Still, it was a change of pace compared to other times over the last several decades that I've initially arrived in other dimensions. Clearly, the tech – which was WAY above Earth baseline for MY own dimension, not to mention all the other places I've been to in my travels – could sniff out dimensional breaches with great ease. And clearly, whoever was controlling the tech in Canada was either knowledgeable enough or experienced enough to make going out to find my lonesome self quite easy. Even better, I didn't have to cook up false identities and find some way to fit in while I waited for the chance to find a proper Gate song to move onto the next step of my journey. That told me one good thing about these people. They had experience in dealing with dimensional crossings. How that would benefit me, I couldn't begin to guess. But I hoped to barter my own experiences for all the help they could give me. Noting a pair of very lovely green eyes staring knowingly at me, I gave the medic – her family name was SASAMOTO as stitched in gold on her left chest under the twin-headed thunderbird ship's crest of Haida – a smirk. "When I normally drop unexpected into a new dimension, I'm normally quite whole and healthy if not conscious at the time the actual transition occurs, Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto," I explained. "I'm just glad that after doing my latest Gate jump, I came to a place where I could get help right away in lieu of being sneaky about it and being forced into quasi-legal and sometimes-immoral acts to forge a false identity so I could interface with the local population." "Wow! He's roughing it, isn't he?" the guardsman – I spotted her name, CROCE, on her tunic – who had talked to me earlier said as she exchanged a look with the medic. "That he is, Henrietta-chan," the medic answered. I then blinked. They were talking in Japanese . . . . . . while my ears picked up their words in clear English. "Translation field?" I asked in my accented Nihon-go. "Omni-translation field," the medic stated as those green eyes of hers sparkled with amusement. "It can interpret any language a sentient can speak and translate it automatically into the native language of the speaker. So if you're more comfortable speaking English, sir, speak in English. We can all understand you." I nodded. "How come you're travelling from dimension to dimension?" Guardsman Croce – I felt it a little improper to call her "Henrietta" even if she struck me as being about twenty years of age – then asked. "Are you an explorer?" A sigh as I decided to honour their obvious concern with the truth. "I'm a metahuman warrior who serves in a group working for the United Nations in my universe," I then explained. "In a battle many decades ago in my time-line, I was propelled into an alternate universe. Over the following years, I've travelled from universe to universe in hopes of rejoining my wife." I opened up my jacket and pulled out the necklace bearing my wedding band. "It's been quite interesting, but believe me . . . HEY!" The "hey" came from something that reminded me a little too much of Minakami Wataru's twelve half-sisters – save Chikage, of course – and how they reacted whenever something their "Big Brother" did or said broke their hearts. An honest-to-goodness Hug of True Love from the medic and ALL the guardsmen! I tried not to blush TOO much on feeling that . . . * * * The landing of the Star Flare on the upper flight deck of H.M.C.S. Haida was pretty much like the landing of any shipboard helicopter aboard any navy vessel that wasn't a purpose-built aircraft carrier: Come to a hover over the green flight deck with the yellow landing lines and the white HA at the aft end, square off on the centre of the deck, and then gently drop down until solid rubber tires kissed metal deck. Even better, since the ship was only about a kilometre above the Welland By-Pass that split her home base from the urban part of the Rose City of Ontario, the outside atmosphere was breathable . . . as witness the opening of the Flare's cargo doors aft onto the deck, thus allowing myself and my current escorts – with Guardsman Croce and Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto having wrapped one of their arms around one of mine – to walk onto a very clear day over the Niagara peninsula, with Lake Erie in the near distance. As soon as we were aboard the starship – and my mind was STILL boggling at the idea of a NATION on Earth having a STARSHIP of all things! – proper, the group around me paused as they straightened to attention, and then saluted the large ensign flying off what appeared to be a sensor vane sticking up from the fantail of the ship between the exhaust ports of a pair of ramjet-like engines that could swallow whole AIRCRAFT CARRIERS from my universe with room to spare! Realising that despite these girls' quite friendly attitudes that they were still-serving soldiers and sailors of the Queen of Canada, I straightened myself and gave the flag – a Canadian version of the British White Ensign with a blue cross and the Maple Leaf Flag in the canton – a Sandhurst-perfect salute. That caused my companions to all blink in surprise. "Are you a serviceman?" Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto then asked. "Technically, I'm a colonel in the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Force, code-named 'Warriors Alpha,'" I explained. "The rank is honorary to me but to those who care for it, it's quite real." I gave her a wink. "I assume British shipboard rules still run the Royal Canadian Navy? Or is it still Canadian Forces Maritime Command?" "MARCOM for now," the medic stated, a smirk crossing her face. "That might change in the near future; you know how RUMINT can be at times." I smirked. RUMINT: Rumour Intelligence, sometimes the most reliable information one could get in the military. "Indeed I do. And . . . " I straightened myself as I properly saluted her. "Permission to come aboard, Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto?" She returned my salute. "Grated, Colonel . . .?" "Douglas Q. Sangoir, code-named 'Looney Tunes.' Call me Doug." She smiled. "Ordinary Seaman Sasamoto Narumi. Call me Narumi. We use proper Oriental name-order in the United Nations Earth Defence Force. Welcome aboard, Doug-san." I shook her hand . . . and then perked as someone came walking our way from the large hangar deck structure forward, where the Star Flare that brought us aboard was now being wheeled into to join three sisters already folded up in their parking spaces. Said person, I was quick to note, also appeared Japanese . . . even if her brown hair was done up in a low bonnet on the lower side of her head and she had amethyst eyes. She was in the same uniform Narumi wore, but her shoulder boards had the single gold stripe – with that funny circular loop British navy officers wore on their uniforms – of their equivalent of a United States Navy ensign over her ship's unit tags. She also had the badge of the Naval Operations Branch of the Canadian Forces on her beret. "Our traveller from another dimension, Narumi-chan?" she asked, smiling. "Hai, Tomomi-chan. May I present Douglas Sangoir-taisa of the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Forces in his home dimension? His battle-name is 'Looney Tunes,'" Narumi then stated. "Doug-san, this is Yoshino Tomomi-shoi, junior ship's combat warfare director. In case you don't know, her rank in Canada is 'acting sub-lieutenant;' I can hear the London accent in your voice even if your words are clearly American." "Yes, I am American, Narumi-chan," I said as I reached up to unbuckle and slip off my helmet. I was quick to sense the appraising looks all the girls around me were giving on unmasking myself. Tomomi's eyes flashed with interest until she focused on my wedding ring, and then she nodded in understanding. "And believe me, that I'm in the land of my homeland's brothers born of the same mother does my heart a world of good." "Wonderful," Tomomi stated. "In the meantime, Hiromi-onesama awaits us. This way." She turned and headed to a recessed stairwell in the middle of the flight deck close to the hangar. "What do you want done with your motorcycle, Doug-san?" Henrietta asked. "Could you put it somewhere safe, Henrietta-chan?" I asked in turn. "And PLEASE, don't take it apart! I had a nosy goddess of the future do that in one of my longer stays and I prefer not to go through putting it back together again." "Which goddess of the future?" Tomomi asked. "Skuld." A surprised look crossed her face. "From A Megami-sama?!" I blinked in confusion . . . * * * Somewhere, a different dimension, "AH-CHOO!" "Bless you, Skuld! Are you alright?" A moan. "Someone's talking about me, One-sama!" Belldandy hummed. "I wonder who would it be . . .?" * * * Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 1331 hours EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A12 Aft, Flag Officer's Level, Tomomi knocked at the open doorway. "One-sama?" "Enter, minna-san," a voice called back in Japanese. "You found him?" "Hai, One-sama, we did," Henrietta stated as she waved me into the room. Looking around, I was quickly taken by the somewhat spartan nature of what appeared to be a reception room for visitors. There was a work desk aft with a small meeting table in the middle of the room. Bookshelves lined all the bulkheads save for the main door and a side door that I assumed opened into the personal living quarters of the – as Tomomi had explained when we came here – Director of the Volunteer United Nations Earth Defence Force. Whose insignia – a blue U.N. flag with the wreathed globe over a cross crusader sword and Japanese katana – was hanging from the wall, bracketed on both sides by the Canadian White Ensign and the national flag of Japan. Which made sense since the woman who had greeted Tomomi had also spoken in Japanese. So what was she doing on a Canadian starship? Starship . . . Damn! I'm STILL boggling over that! Said woman – who had been seated at her work desk typing away on some sort of laptop computer – turned to gaze at me, and then smiled. "Welcome aboard, good traveller," she said as she stood up and walked over, her hand out. "Are you alright?" I was gaping at her. The Director of the Force was a teenager?! Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay . . . this was DEFINITELY a new one on me . . . * * * Gazing at the handsome man – she put his physical age at about early thirties, though his eyes flashed a look that indicated that he was a lot older; Are the humans of his Earth as long lived as Vosians or Avalonians? – Moroboshi Hiromi then smiled as she pulled her hand away, giving him a knowing look. "Never expected something like this?" He blinked and then flustered. "Not really . . . " A chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about that, good sir," she stated. "You'll find a lot of things in this universe to be quite unique. But I'm sure that your universe has its own many mysteries as well, especially given the fact that you are a metahuman." As he gaped at her, she smirked. "Our sensors picked up those interesting quirks in your DNA when we first detected you on the training range. Natural-born or fate-gifted?" He gaped. "Um, natural-born . . . " A nod. "Well, no doubt whatever Powers control our lives felt you worthy to gain such gifts," she stated as she waved him to a chair. "Here, sit! Be comfortable! You've probably had a bit of a harrowing journey, so you need to relax." Another blink, and then he did as she bade. "One-sama, this is Douglas Sangoir-taisa, a member of the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Forces in his universe," Narumi then stated. "He's known by the battle-name 'Looney Tunes' and he would prefer to be called 'Doug.' Doug-san, this is Moroboshi Hiromi-onesama, the Director of the United Nations Earth Defence Force. Her battle-name amongst those like her is 'Ryuko Kyorei.' Also a third-year high school student at Tomobiki High School, Class Four." He blinked several times, and then he gaped. "How old are you?" He then flustered on noting that he asked a VERY rude question as it would be seen in the West. Hiromi then chuckled. "It depends on what you actually mean by one's age, Doug-san. Physically, I'm eighteen years old. Chronologically – in this life – I'm only two. And spiritually, I'm over eighteen hundred years old. Take your pick." Doug's jaw dropped . . . * * * THAT answer surprised me like nothing I had ever heard before. Without hesitation, my mage-sight clicked in as I gazed on my host. The result . . . Oh, SHIT . . .! Instantly, I was on my knees as I prostrated myself before this living Celestial in the form of what I simply had no choice but to believe was a fully-organic biological android to boot! "Forgive me, Most Holy One, for invading . . .!" "ENOUGH!" My ears were nearly ripped apart by that shout. A tired sigh. "Doug-san, please! I am an emperor of nothing! On top of that – while some of the witless dullards I've met since I was allowed to take this body for my own two years ago would think me a phoenix reborn – I do not demand worship from ANYONE!" the woman/phoenix/bioroid before me growled in clear annoyance at my simple show of respect to a Celestial. "I would assume you used some sort of ki-sight on me?" I gazed up at her to find her dark brown eyes flashing with annoyance . . . with a bare fleck of amusement. "Actually, mage-sight, Moroboshi-sama," I confessed. Her jaw dropped. "You're a sorcerer?" A chuckle. "I've dabbled with magic from time to time." "Well, do sit down, please!" she stated. "I care not to speak to someone's BACK, especially if they're kneeling before me. I may have been the Xiàolíng Emperor of Hàn in my first life, but I claim no such title now." She then glared off to my right rear. "And may I ask, little sisters, what you're all doing STANDING there?!" A chorus of sucked-in breaths made me turned to see looks of profound embarrassment on the faces of all the girls who had escorted me there. They then bowed low to my current host. "We're sorry, One-sama!" they chanted as one. "Tomomi-chan, go find Seina-chan," my host then barked out in a command voice. "I need tea, coffee and fruit juices in case our guest has a queasy stomach from his transition into our universe. Some soft snacks as well. Rest of you, be off with you!" "HAI!" And with that, they nearly knocked themselves out getting out of the room! A tired sigh then escaped my host. "I do apologise for that, Doug-san," she then said with a voice touched with a little weariness. "I can sense you have your own sense of propriety towards dealing with those strongly touched by the Te'a . . . but despite my origins and my many gifts, I desire only to be a normal girl. Fate, sadly, decreed otherwise." She then smiled at me. "So please, call me Hiromi. And try not to use '-sama' with my name, good sir. Or I will call you 'Sangoir-taisa' until you're sick to death of hearing it . . . AND arrange for proper navy side parties when you step on and off this ship or any of her sisterships while you're with us." She winked, which made me laugh. Okay, I could go along with that. "Deal, Hiromi-chan!" I said as I offered my hand to her, which she took in both of her own and gave it a very tender squeeze. "So your Earth has developed bioroid tech?" "It was forced on our Earth two years ago when my adopted race – we call ourselves 'Avalonians' as a whole – fled lives of sexual slavery which they had been subjected to for a century after the bioroid factory was discovered by a race calling themselves 'Niphentaxians.'" She then hummed. "Are you a Trekker, Doug-san?" "Somewhat familiar with the series," I replied, trying not to tremble with outrage at what my host just said. "Though my experience in travelling in other dimensions has shown me that there are considerable differences between various realities when it comes to how various forms of fiction are played out." A nod. "We're familiar with that. Are you aware of the Iotians the Enterprise under Jim Kirk encountered in the second year of their voyage of exploration?" "A race of mimics." "The Niphentaxians are our equivalent of them, but possessed with a religious fervour that truly is quite frightening to behold," Hiromi stated as I relaxed myself. "Atop that, once they discovered the many benefits of having the Avalonians enslaved to them, they lost a lot of their technological, cultural and social replicating knowledge. One of the men who discovered the Avalon factory, Master Ganzo dai-Louc, came to realise what was happening right away and struggled for decades to see them free." "He succeeded." "With much help." A nod. Damn! Almost like the universe of Megatokyo in 2034 where I encountered the Knight Sabres and helped destroy my native counterpart in that city, James D. Quincy. "So your people fled here," I mused. "What's to stop them from retaliating?" "Well, confronting celestial dragons from two different planets, facing two armies of the finest warriors, plus wrecking not just their space fleet but their space factories and everything else they could muster to strike back on Earth – thus making them quite vulnerable to a race known as the Ipraedies – made them see the light. Furthermore, the leader of the latest 'church' to seize control of Phentax Two – their homeworld – was arrested over a year ago and sent to a planet named Vos to be imprisoned for life for a wretched incident nearly eight years ago when a biological warfare device was unleashed on that world's capital city, murdering five million sentient beings." I paled. Bio-war . . . Oh, joy . . . "My sympathies," I whispered before perking as a knock at the main door, and then I turned to see a tomboyish girl – also an Avalonian bioroid, my mage-sight quickly confirmed – in the same type of uniform Tomomi and Narumi wore. She was brown-haired and had blue-grey eyes. In one of her hands, she carried a big tray of drinks and a plate of snacks. "Please excuse me for bothering you, Hiromi-onesama, Doug-san," she – her family name was YAMAGUCHI; no doubt, this was the "Seina" that Hiromi just asked for – said as she walked in and moved to serve use. "What would you like?" she asked as she gazed at me. "Is that coffee Tim's?" I asked. A smirk. "Of course!" "Double-double, please!" "Hai!" * * * Watching Yamaguchi Seina serve her current guest, Hiromi relaxed herself as she waited her turn, her ki-sight quickly clicking in as she scanned Doug's body. The result amazed her. The fellow before him was physically over a hundred years old – even if he looked like a man in his early thirties at the most; Some sort of age-stopping power? the reborn emperor of the Toshi of the Three Kingdoms wondered to herself – and bore the considerable physical and mental scars of a life that had been rocked by battle after battle throughout his lengthy travels. His emotional ki aura indicated he was determined to do everything to get home to his wife and friends no matter what; noting the streaks of loyalty he felt towards his spouse, Hiromi had to nod in admiration at such devotion. Atop that, there were the clear signs of magical hexes and curses upon the man. On noting that, Hiromi sighed. A plaything of the gods! How depressing . . .! * * * Elsewhere, else when . . . AH-CHOO! AH-CHOO! AH-CHOO! * * * "One-sama?" A sigh. "My apologies, Seina-chan. My usual." "Hai!" Tea was then served, and then Seina left the room, closing the door behind her. On sensing that, Doug then sighed. "You scanned me, didn't you? Martial artist?" "Jonin-rank in my family's Art: Saiko Jinseijutsu-ryu." A blink. "'Way of the Supreme Life?'" A smile. "A little pretentious, I agree . . . but it is a very thorough school that not just teaches fighting but how to live life with as minimal wear-and-tear on one's physical form as possible," Hiromi admitted. "Sadly, part of the reason I came to be the way I am in this life forced such knowledge on my heart and soul, so I do my best to honour my family's Art and teach it – despite my considerable lack of teaching experience – to those whom I could help better their lives. My elder sister, Moroboshi Negako-onesama – our planet's first true artificial intelligence to be frank – is the Grandmaster of the Art. Even if she LOATHES the word 'sensei!'" He laughed. "First true A.I., huh? How created?" "A form of powerful soul-magic based on meson that allowed various warriors of our overall family to contribute their memories and experiences into a mental 'database' of knowledge. Eight hundred years after it was first created, it woke up into One-sama. But since the Avalonians were still many decades away, members of my family took up a powerful magical oath known as the 'Promise of Bunka Go-nen' to keep One-sama alive and well.' My adopted brother – and the DNA template for my body – was the fifty-seventh such person to take the Sacred Promise. It was fulfilled two years ago." He gave her a knowing look. "With cost, I take it?" "A permanently sundered soul which gave him a true twin sister in Tariko-onesan. Both One-sama's soul and my own – which was trapped in my earring . . . " – she pointed to her magatama – " . . . made it happen over a period of ten years." A sigh. "You weathered it well." "Arigato. Now, what on Earth am I going to do with you, Doug-san?" He gave her a helpless shrug . . . * * * - Bob Schroeck - 06-28-2012 Heh. The only quibbles I'd have are that Doug doesn't automatically show respect to a Celestial -- he's far too distrustful of them as a whole. The bit you're copying from DW5 was actually Doug trying to save his own skin and get out of wherever he'd found himself before something went radically wrong. He'd be more likely to suspect Hiromi of pulling some kind of divine scam, actively deceiving those around her about her true nature for either some ineffable game or for her own personal amusement. And unless you're intending for him to be actively hiding his talents, Doug does not "dabble" in magic. He is one of the top 100 experts, world-wide, in magical theory and practice in Warriors' World. If he weren't forced to operate almost entirely on an instinctive/unconscious level, he would be an archmage to reckon with. Oh, and even if it's Tim Hortons's, Doug's not a coffee-drinker, he's very much a tea man. He only drinks coffee medicinally. Those few little things aside, though, I'm very much enjoying this. -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - robkelk - 06-28-2012 While reading the story so far, this popped into my head. (I think it's because of Bob's posted snippet from "Rune Soldier Louie"...) Pyeknu Wrote:A tired sigh then escaped my host. "I do apologise for that, Doug-san," she then said with a voice touched with a little weariness. "I can sense you have your own sense of propriety towards dealing with those strongly touched by the Te'a . . . but despite my origins and my many gifts, I desire only to be a normal girl. Fate, sadly, decreed otherwise." She then smiled at me. "So please, call me Hiromi. And try not to use '-sama' with my name, good sir. Or I will call you 'Sangoir-taisa' until you're sick to death of hearing it . . . AND arrange for proper navy side parties when you step on and off this ship or any of her sisterships while you're with us.""You say that as if it's a bad thing," I replied. Then, after a pause but before she could answer, I smiled and continued, "Okay, it is a bad thing. But don't assume everybody hates ceremony, Hiromi-san." Oh, yes... Timmies? Really? Poor girls... -- Rob Kelk "Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of the same sovereign, servants of the same law." - Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012 Bob's and Rob's Comments - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 To Bob: Thank you for indicating that point concerning Doug and Celestials. Any ideas on how I should re-write that part? Thanks also for reminding me about his liking tea. Then again, Tim Hortons does sell tea as much as they do coffee, so it's not that difficult. Any particular blend? I'd think English breakfast tea since he did live quite a white in London. After all, Earl Grey is too much of a hint towards Star Trek - The Next Generation . . . not to mention Hiromi's encounter with Jean-Luc Picard in Avalonians and Questors. Oh, darn! Forgot to include the red pepper powder in Hiromi's tea. My bad! To Rob: With your permission, I'd like to incorporate Doug's comment into the story. To everyone: Today, I got some bad news: I'll be on medical leave YET AGAIN for the next couple of weeks to a month, so I'll be able to work more on this. - robkelk - 06-29-2012 Pyeknu Wrote:To Rob: With your permission, I'd like to incorporate Doug's comment into the story.Feel free! Pyeknu Wrote:To everyone: Today, I got some bad news: I'll be on medical leave YET AGAIN for the next couple of weeks to a month, so I'll be able to work more on this.Oh, dear... Nothing too serious, I hope? -- Rob Kelk "Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of the same sovereign, servants of the same law." - Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012 - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 Infection in the foot and a pain shooting up the inside of my left leg. The doctor first believed it was a blood clot, but ultrasound scans showed nothing. I'll be on an IV antibiotic for a while, so I'm NOT going to work in an enclosed space with bad climate control where people are prone to get whatever's in the air in the blink of an eye. And thank you, Rob. I will incorporate Doug's words pretty soon. But right now, my muses have decided to rewrite the whole scene concerning Doug discovering Hiromi's "celestial" nature . . . which allowed me to bring in another tôshi to the scene. Enjoy! **** **** **** THAT answer surprised me like nothing I had ever heard before. Without hesitation, my mage-sight clicked in as I gazed on my host. The result . . . Oh, HELL . . .! "You're a phoenix!" I then spat out. Her eyebrow arched. "No, I am not." "You sure?" I instantly challenged. "What the hell's this all about anyway?! What's your game?! Bringing this high-tech starship here and offering it to people who may not have any idea how to properly run it!" Ignoring the shocked gasps from all the girls behind me, I pointed at her. "So what's the damned deal here?!" "Doug-san!" Narumi cried out. "Enough!" I jolted as I felt that powerful wave of ki hit me, instantly cutting out my burning groove of anger over being YET AGAIN brought into the presence of a Celestial of all things . . . and then I noticed a knowing look then cross her face. "I take it from your outburst just now that you've had bad encounters with divinities and their ilk?" she asked with a virtual tidal wave of scorn, which made me blink in complete surprise. "Yes, there are some witless dullards on this planet who've mistaken me as a phoenix given how I came to this life two years ago, then strove to save those like me from some uncaring 'fate of the sacred bead' the souls of their first-selves were forced into eighteen centuries ago in the Three Kingdoms period of China!" As my mind nearly crashed from THAT tsunami of information – as my traitorous mage-sight quickly locked in on the soul or whatever-it-was trapped in my host's magatama-shaped earring, said thing tied with links of purest neutronium with the soul of the young woman before me – she took a deep breath, her own heart billowing with a very ugly anger of her own. "I suspect you might be able to imagine this, Doug-san," she said in a voice full of helpless outrage. "The noble worthies of the Latter Hàn when I first walked this life as Liú Hóng. Not to mention the noble worthies of Shu Hàn, Cáo Wèi and Dong Wú . . . to say anything of the Nánmán and the other tribes that existed in the Middle Kingdom at that time! Dying regardless of cause . . . yet to have their very SOULS trapped in these things!" She pointed to her earring. "To be worn on the persons of innocents after innocents for dozens of generations across China, then Korea, then Japan! And for your further amusement, allow me to tell you this!" She raised a finger in emphasis. "When those countless thousands of innocent souls over the last eighteen centuries DID wake up to what they bore within their magatama, they were forced to RE-LIVE the lives and the fates of the ones whose souls were trapped in those things! WHY, I ASK?!" she then demanded. "Tell me WHY, Doug-san! Why would the uncaring Fates do that to those such as my own cousin Liú Bèi, the truly wise and determined Cáo Cao, the beloved siblings of the Sun Clan, the every-questing Lu Bù and all the others?! Not to mention the great warriors of ancient Ireland and heaven only knows how many more throughout history! If I have a phoenix inside me, Doug-san, WHY WAS I NEVER TOLD THAT?!" Staring at a now teary-eyed woman – as my brain finally started to catch up to all the other things she had said – I found myself simply unable to give her an answer . . . * * * Cursing herself for her lack of self-control over someone who desperately needed help – and had no doubt been dragged into this universe by a well-meaning Inada Mizuho if what Sakurambo Sakura had just told her an hour before was true – Hiromi took a deep breath. "You have my deepest apologies, Doug-san. I did not mean to heap all that over you," she stated. "Am I a phoenix? Some believe so. I personally cannot answer that, though. Tell me this: Are those divinities and other celestial spirits who have clearly earned your ire ever been unsure as to what they are and why?" Doug blinked before he shook his head. "Not in my experience." A nod. "Well, now you've gained a new experience. Perhaps that will allow you to overcome your mistrust of myself and those like me – for, if the idiots who like to harp on such things are to be believed, I happen to count a spiritual daughter of Mother Earth Herself and the Sagussan Master of Entropy as my own siblings, to say ANYTHING of the many people like myself touched by celestial dragons, both on Earth and elsewhere! – so we can get you on your way back to your true home." "And his wife." Hiromi gazed on Yoshino Tomomi. "You've been separated from your wife, Doug-san?" she then asked as she gazed on the metahuman before her. A tired sigh. "For what seems like forever." The reborn emperor blinked as she peered at him for a moment, and then – after moving to wipe her eyes clear of tears – leaned down to kiss her guest's forehead. "You are toshi." * * * Toshi. If my Japanese was dead on – and after my experiences in Megatokyo in 2037 with the Knight Sabres; Nekomi in 1997 with the Norns and their friends; Tokyo-3 in 2015 with Shinji, Asuka and Rei; amid other places, I had to admit that it was good – the word Hiromi just used on me was written with the kanji ??, meaning "fighting soldier." And while I still felt a level of mistrust towards the woman before me now, that she was willing to call me that made me think over what she had just been said. One small factoid came up right away. "You were a Chinese emperor?!" I demanded. A snort. "I was not much of an emperor, Doug-san. I was more interested in all my concubines and seeing to my own carnal lusts in lieu of dealing with matters of state," she confessed with frank honesty, which made me gape. She wasn't lying . . . But she was a phoenix of all things . . . Yet she DIDN'T know . . . What the HELL was going on here?! My mind recalled what Tomomi said when we got introduced. "'Ryuko Kyorei?'" I asked. "'Ryuko' is the Japanese way of reading 'Liú Hóng.' Where does 'Kyorei' come from?" "'Xiàolíng,'" she supplied. "My posthumous name: 'Filial and inattentive.'" A pained smirk then crossed her face. "Which, if you are familiar with the times, Doug-san . . . I certainly was that. Look how many suffered for it afterward?" "Hiromi-san, why do you keep doing this to yourself?" I perked, and then turned . . . . . . to find myself gazing on a woman that distantly reminded me of Belldandy in a way: Long silver hair on a classically-sculptured face over a body that – were Mrs. Maggie Sangoir's husband NOT faithful to her! – was literally to die for. But that was the only similarities between this newcomer – whom I immediately sensed had the power of a celestial DRAGON of all things inside her! – and the quite friendly aspect of the Norn of the Present I met years ago in another dimension. This woman was a skilled and trained warrior who was not afraid to take a life; her body's general aura hinted at that. She had also mastered the monster inside her . . . though such mastery had been with cost. She was quite prepared for a fight; the sheathed katana in her hand was a dead give-away. And she was tôshi; her earring was the same silver shade as Hiromi's. "You know my reasons," Hiromi whispered, and then she sighed. "Tomomi-chan?" Tomomi gasped. "Hai, One-sama?" "Will you be a dear and ask Seina-chan to fetch some tea and snacks for Kumomi-san and myself? What's your choice of morning drink, Doug-san?" "Tea's okay by me." I then smiled. "I assume that since this is a Canadian starship, the hot drinks are all provided by Tim Horton's?" "Naturally!" Hiromi stated. "Doug-san?" Tomomi asked. "English breakfast tea?" I wondered. An eager nod. "Hai!" With that, the acting sub-lieutenant headed out of the room. "Girls, we can take over from here," the newcomer then said as she "gazed" with those closed eyes at the guardsmen and Sasamoto Narumi. How the hell was she able to see . . . unless it was a type of ki sight or mage-sight? "While Doug-san's considerable anger towards those of a divine nature seems well founded, he strikes me as a civilised person. Despite the rapier wit and love for Warner Brothers cartoons I currently sense he possesses." As I nearly choked on THAT rather frank statement, the newcomer then gazed at me, her eyes then opening to reveal a pair of pale blue orbs, both now twinkling with laughter she wouldn't indulge in right now. Before I could wonder what the hell was THIS one's game, a chorus of "Hai, Kumomi-onesama! Please excuse us!" echoed from behind me as the girls who had walked me into this situation all bowed and left. With that, the newcomer then took a seat nearby, her eyes closing again. "Welcome to our universe, Master Looney Tunes," she then stated as Hiromi also took her chair at one end of the table. "Your actions in other dimensions echoed into this one long before you were pulled here by a young lady who simply desired to save a brave, gallant and noble warrior from facing an attack from quite dark and demonic beings while he himself was unconscious and transitioning through your 'world gate' process from your last port stop on the next step of your journey." As I gaped at her, she smiled. "I am Koeru Kumomi. My battle-name is 'Choun Shiryu.' Currently attending the Nan'yo Academy in Kimitsu-shi, Chiba-ken. Year Three, Class A. In my first life, I was Zhào Yún of Shu Hàn, styled 'Zilóng.' The dragon your mage-senses are no doubt picking up from within me calls himself 'Shùnpíng' after my first-self's posthumous title." I blinked. "How did you know?" "Your wit and your love of Master Bugs Bunny and his friends?" A smirk. "Your battle-name spoke it out as loud as possible. If you are a metahuman warrior – an arch-mage if my sense of your total capabilities is anywhere close to being accurate – yet call yourself 'Looney Tunes,' the conclusion is rather quite obvious." "And whatever is the matter with liking such wonderful entertainers as they?" Hiromi then asked as a smile of her own crossed her face. "Given our experiences in the universe of Star Trek at the turn of the New Year, the chances are there . . . " "That what happened to Michael Jordan-sensei in Space Jam DID happen somewhere!" More laughter. As I gaped at these two whatever-they-were, I couldn't help but grin as I recognised their reference to the 1996 movie where "Air" Jordan actually was pulled into the Looney Tunes universe to help Bugs Bunny et al defend themselves from a bunch of VERY not-so-funny creeps called the Nerdlucks. I then stopped as something else Hiromi just said hit me. "You actually went to the Star Trek universe?!" "Indeed we did, Doug-san. Around the time of the events depicted in Generations; the year 2371 Earth-time in their universe," she answered me matter-of-factly. "If this is not true in your universe, the movie itself was released here in 1994." "When exactly did you leave your own dimension, Doug-san?" Kumomi asked. A sigh. "Too long ago," I admitted while part of me tried to muster ANY sort of mistrust and anger towards these two beings. But DAMN it all to the lowest pit of Hell – ignoring everything my own damned mage-senses were telling me – everything about them screamed TRUTH to me! So what the HELL does that make ME? "A wise traveller, Master Looney Tunes. One who will live to reunite with his wife." I jolted as Kumomi gave me a very knowing look . . . Yeah, even with CLOSED eyes! "One who has been disappointed many times as you've been shuttled from universe to universe since you were first expelled from your native Earth. In battle, I presume?" As I nodded, she sighed. "By the way – in case you're wondering – your body's ki aura well reflects your experiences over the years." As I felt myself relax a little bit more at that admission, she added, "You've also felt yourself forced to make deals with various celestials, deals which you later came to wonder were such good things in the end, right?" As I nodded again, she shook her head. "Much that neither my Emperor or myself would personally never do anything to hurt someone like you . . . " "Shiryu-dono . . . " Kumomi then seemed to freeze for a moment before she turned . . . . . . to have a VERY pissed-off Hiromi literally LEAN right into her face. "How many times must I continue to say this to you: I AM AN EMPEROR OF NOTHING!" The other girl gulped. "H-h-hai . . .!" I blinked as I gazed at this scene. Okay, THAT was weird . . .! * * * To give a little background information . . . As readers of these chronicles will have long come to note by now, I personally don't really care too much for Celestials of ANY sort. Especially if they're of the variety who are often called "gods" or "deities." And ESPECIALLY if said gods or deities feel it their Fate-given right to MEDDLE in the affairs and destinies of humble mortals such as yours truly. My own commanding officer in the Warriors Alpha team back in my own reality, Rear-Admiral Helene Diedmeier a.k.a. "Wetter Hexe," excepted of course. Hence my initial reaction after using my mage-sight on Moroboshi Hiromi. And while she wasn't a true "god" like the three Norns whom I met years ago and many dimensions behind me, she clearly had the power of such a being within her. Though I will grant one small caveat. The celestial power within Hiromi's body came off as a phoenix to my mage-senses. And while I did have the pleasure to meet a real magical phoenix – Professor Albus Dumbledore's friend Fawkes while I spent a year being the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts some years and dimension ago – who wouldn't harm a soul, I DID sense from Hiromi that she was quite willing to cause much harm to those she loathed. Fawkes would NEVER do something like that. It was utterly against his very nature. So I could be very wrong about Hiromi. Wouldn't be the first time. Sure as hell wouldn't be the last, either. Thinking about that, I hummed. A Chinese fènghuáng perhaps . . .? It would make sense given her stated origins . . . * * * As for Koeru Kumomi, a.k.a. Choun Shiryu, it was cut-and-dried. She was the living avatar of a celestial DRAGON! While I never had cause to encounter such beings before, I do know about them. All those lessons could be wrapped up in one statement: "Treat them with respect . . . for you are crunchy and would go good with ketchup!" And while I wouldn't trust Kumomi just yet, if ever . . . . . . Mama Sangnoir did NOT raise an idiot for a son! No, sir! * * * A knock made me turn . . . At the main door was a tomboyish girl in the same type of uniform Tomomi and Narumi had worn when I had met them, though I'd put this one in her mid-twenties. She was brown-haired and had blue-grey eyes. In one hand, she carried a tray of drinks. "Please excuse me for bothering you, Hiromi-onesama, Kumomi-onesama, Doug-san," she – her family name was YAMAGUCHI; no doubt, this was the "Seina" Hiromi had asked Tomomi to come by with snacks and food – said as she served us. "One English breakfast tea," she said as she placed a cup of tea – with the bag in it, of course – before me, served in a fine mug with Haida's ship's crest on it. "One cup of gyokuro," she then said as she placed the next mug in front of Kumomi, that filled with a jade-shaded green tea that was quite expensive in Japan. "And one cup of spiced Noukiite ginseng tea," she then said as she placed a cup of golden tea – topped with RED CHILLI PEPPER POWDER! – in front of Hiromi. She then placed down some milk, cream, sugar and sweetener on the table between us before turning to bow. "Sandwiches will be ten minutes." "Arigato, Seina-chan," Hiromi said as she took up her teaspoon and moved to stir the red flakes on the surface of her tea into the mixture. I felt my eyebrow arch. "Spiced tea?" An amused smile came back. "One of the alien races who control space close to us – they actually control the Alpha Centauri system; their colony there is called 'Teng-ch'ehek' locally and 'Tengsei' elsewhere – are as passionately in love with spices as the noble natives of the Land of the Morning Calm, Doug-san," Hiromi explained. "In the days before and after I acquired the body I possess now, I – and the gestalt of souls that existed in my elder brother Ataru's body before we were separated – had no choice but to conform to the local cuisine if we were to be helped become true masters of our destinies." She picked up the cup and sipped from it. "Eventually, the addictive nature of Noukiite eta powder became too much for all of us." I breathed out. "Okay . . . " Well, when in Rome . . . I then perked on hearing a whistle – which sounded like the intercom alert from the original Star Trek series – echo through the room. "Chief Shipwright to the Director," a man's voice called out. "Are you busy, ma'am?" Hiromi reached over to tap a control on the table; I was quick to note there was a touch-screen unit there. Thinking about a recent companion who had joined me some universes ago, I wondered what Eimi would think of this ship and the tech that ran her. "No, Chief Davidson," she answered. "What seems to be the problem?" "What do you want done with the motorcycle the girls pulled up from the range, ma'am?" the voice of the chief shipwright – the senior hull technician aboard Haida if I recalled how things worked on warships descent from British traditions – asked. "The Little Genius is looking at it and he's just SALAVATING to get at it, ma'am!" As I instantly had a flashback about what a certain pre-teen goddess of the future had done to my machine back in a temple in Nekomi, Hiromi then moaned. "Kogetsuei-dono!" A squawk coming from someone who clearly was even YOUNGER than Hiromi by several years echoed from the intercom. "My E-e-Emperor . . .?" sputtered out next. "Tsukihana-kun, if you even THINK of touching our honoured guest's trusty mount, I will see to it personally that Ryoko-chan will not speak to you for a MONTH!" Stunned silence followed. "'Kogetsuei?'" I whispered to Kumomi. "Huáng Yuèying," she whispered back. "In this life, Ki Tsukihana. He's one of the two bright people who built this ship and her sisters for all of Earth." As my mind nearly crashed from THAT little avalanche of information, I then perked on hearing a sob echo from the intercom. "One-chan . . .!" Tsukihana then moaned. A sigh. "Tsukihana-kun, our honoured guest has suffered at the hands of various so-called 'divinities' many times in the past. One of them actually – or so the pilot of the Star Flare that brought Doug-san aboard relayed to me – had the audacity to rip apart his machine into its component parts." As I gaped, she winked at me. "So, please. For our new friend's continued good mental health, leave the cycle alone." "You are SHITTING me!" That, I realised, was the chief shipwright. "What is wrong?" Hiromi asked. "Someone literally RIPPED this bike apart, Director?!" the other man snapped. "Whoever did that deserves to be shot and pissed on! And not particularly in that order!" As my mind interpreted that ribald comment, I simply had no choice. I fell on my ass, laughing my guts out! * * * Somewhere, a different dimension, "AH-CHOO!" "Bless you, Skuld!" * * * **** **** **** To Bob: I hope you don't mind if I gave Hexe military rank. Since Doug has it, she seems to deserve it as well. HMCS Haida's Theme Song - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 In A Class of Her Own (production date unknown), written and produced for a video by Parks Canada for the H.M.C.S. Haida National Historic Site of Canada, copyright by Her Majesty the Queen in Right of Canada; the lyrics used here under the applicable non-commercial reproduction provisions of the Copyright Act (R.S.C., 1985, c. C-42) of Canada. Waving goodbye with tears in our eyes, We left our loved ones behind. Many of us never been off-shore, Not knowing what Fate had in store. For twenty years upon her we sailed From Múrmansk to the Bay of Biscay, Serving King, Queen and Country; In battle and peace we prevailed . . . We came from the East, We came from the West, Brothers in arms, (Brothers in arms . . . ) Good men one and all . . .!Twenty-seven Tribals set out to sea. Thirteen sunk. Thirteen gone. Only Haida lives on! She's in a class of her own! In a class of her own! The years went by and she lay still But threats still remained. People cried out to save her greatness, Her greatness and her name. She stands tall honouring all who died So we could be free. No sacrifice never too great Lest we forget the Tribals' legacy! We came from the East, We came from the West, Brothers in arms, (Brothers in arms . . . ) Proud sailors one and all! Twenty-seven Tribals set out to sea. Thirteen sunk. Thirteen gone. Only Haida lives on! She's in a class of her own! In a class of her own! (Instrumental Interlude) We shared joy and fear, Laughter and sorrow, Victory and loss . . . To ship and comrades, raise a tot!Many memories we have stored, The journey from life aboard. To the end of our watch, Lives on a ship forever moored! Twenty-seven Tribals set out to sea. Thirteen sunk. Thirteen gone. Only Haida lives on . . .! (Only Haida lives on . . .!) She's in a class of her own! (She's in a class of her own!) In a class of her own! Twenty-seven Tribals set out to sea. (Twenty-seven Tribals . . . ) Thirteen sunk. Thirteen gone. (Thirteen gone . . . ) Only Haida lives on . . .! (Only Haida lives on . . .!) She's in a class of her own! (She's in a class of her own!) In a class of her own! She's in a class of her own . . . For those who wish to see the video, go here: http://www.youtube.com/wa...CkRVGhI1Q&playnext=4 - Bob Schroeck - 06-29-2012 Pyeknu Wrote:To Bob: Thank you for indicating that point concerning Doug and Celestials. Any ideas on how I should re-write that part?It's really simple, actually. He's not at all reverent. He'd be more likely to say something like, "I can see what you are. What are you doing with these people?" Remember how he first considered Belldandy in DW5 -- as something akin to Cthulhu playing a sadistic game with Keiichi. That's more or less his default opinion of gods, especially ones going out of their way to interact with mortals on a regular basis. It might be out of the goodness of their hearts, but he doesn't consider it at all likely. Pyeknu Wrote:Thanks also for reminding me about his liking tea. Then again, Tim Hortons does sell tea as much as they do coffee, so it's not that difficult. Any particular blend? I'd think English breakfast tea since he did live quite a white in London.That or just a regular orange pekoe/pekoe-cut black tea. -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - Bob Schroeck - 06-29-2012 Pyeknu Wrote:To Bob: I hope you don't mind if I gave Hexe military rank. Since Doug has it, she seems to deserve it as well.I see I should have read ahead before writing my last response. I think you nailed what I was trying to describe, right on target. I'll have to pass "Rear-Admiral" past Helen and see what she thinks. I've generally been using Army-style ranks in the Walk, though -- Shadowwalker is a major, as we noted in the last chapter of DW5. Which would mean Hexe is a general. I couldn't tell you what subvariety, though, right now. ETA: The bit with the phoenix-recognition amuses me, if only because of synchronicity -- I just wrote the scene for DW8 where Doug first encounters Fawkes yesterday... -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 LOL! Well, in my own works concerning Major Raeburn and everything I imagine concerning her, I view the division of power styles among the three parts of the Canadian Forces this way: Royal Canadian Navy: Psionics and magicals Canadian Army: Physical (FISS-type) powers & use of meta-type weapons Royal Canadian Air Force: Non-magical and non-psionic energy powers Anyhow, I'm off to the nurse's station to get my first IV. Later! General and Flag Officers - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 FYI, the general and flag officer ranks: One star/maple leaf: RCN - Commodore (Cmdre), CA - Brigadier General (BGen), RCAF - Air Commodore (A/C) Two star/maple leaf: RCN - Rear Admiral (RAdm), CA - Major General (MGen), RCAF - Air Vice-Marshal (A/VM) Three star/maple leaf: RCN - Vice Admiral (VAdm), CA - Lieutenant General (LGen), RCAF - Air Marshal (A/M) Four star/maple leaf: RCN - Admiral (Adm), CA - General (Gen), RCAF - Air Chief Marshal (A/CM) Unlike Britain and America, Canada never had five star/maple leaf rank, but if ever it did happen, it'd probably be this: Five star/maple leaf: RCN - Fleet Admiral (FAdm), CA - Field Marshal (FM), RCAF - Marshal of the Royal Canadian Air Force (M/RCAF) But given the unified nature of the Canadian military and the leaning towards American-type traditions in recent years (ever since Unification in 1968), the five star/maple leaf rank might go this way: RCN - Admiral of the Forces (AdmF), CA - General of the Forces (GenF), RCAF - Air Chief Marshal of the Forces (A/CMF) Oh what the hell... - Bob Schroeck - 06-29-2012 Quote:ETA: The bit with the phoenix-recognition amuses me, if only because of synchronicity -- I just wrote the scene for DW8 where Doug first encounters Fawkes yesterday... Go look in the DW8 forum. -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - Pyeknu - 06-29-2012 I will do so after I post this. BTW, I would strongly desire your opinion of what Mizuho wants to do in this case. **** **** **** Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 2:16 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A12 Aft, Flag Officer's Level, Seina soon came in with a tray of finger sandwiches – all clearly hand-made by her and her friends, I was quick to sense – and then she stepped out of the room. As I relaxed, enjoyed my tea and nibbled on the fresh-cut Black Forest ham-and-marble cheese sandwich slices with shredded lettuce and a pinch of mustard in them, I was quick to sense both Hiromi and Kumomi gaze at me – again, the latter doing it with closed eyes – with clearly a type of ki sight. "So what exactly are toshi?" I then asked. "A type of mutant?" I was quick to note THAT word made both girls wince. "Doug-san, please don't use that word here," Hiromi then pleaded. "I'm sure the word is quite accepted in your universe . . . but here, we're trying to steer away from such terms." She winked. "Here, we would call you a 'naturally-born metahuman.' Those who gain powers through accidents, deliberate genetic modification or such are 'fate-gifted metahumans.'" "Not 'mutates,'" Kumomi added. I gaped. "Oh . . . " "Given your use of such a word, I assume in your universe, those who possess such powers are not discriminated against," Kumomi then asked. I shook my head. "Of course not." "What of artificial intelligences?" Hiromi wondered. A shrug. "Nothing wrong with them." Kumomi: "Including androids, gynoids and the like?" "No restrictions if they're seen as fully sentient and capable of making their own choices," I asserted. Where the hell were these two going with this? "Bioroids as well, I would assume. Clones, perhaps?" Hiromi mused. "I've never encountered bioroids," I admitted. "I assume you mean 'biological android' by that." As they nodded, I added, "As for cloning, doing same without the permission of the DNA donor is forbidden across my planet. But if a clone is created illegally yet develops a personality of his own, he has the same rights as anyone else." Both of them nodded again. "Then you may relax, Doug-san," Hiromi then stated. "As you'll probably remember from my words earlier before you discovered the 'phoenix' inside me . . . " – She made finger-quotes on saying that – " . . . that I said that I was chronologically only two years old." As I gazed at her, she smiled. "I am a bioroid, the DNA moulded with permission by my brother Ataru to make me a genetic twin sister of his. My other sisters, Negako-onesama and Tariko-onesan, are the same way. Kumomi-san's present body is a bioroid as well; it was cloned for her about a year ago in the wake of our first deep-space mission as a way of breaking her from her 'fate.'" As I gaped at them – and my mage-sight quickly locked in on how YOUNG their bodies really were! – she added, "You wonder why we have the technology that created Haida and her sisterships with us now in the year 2011, Doug-san? It is because a RACE of bioroids who had been treated for the most part as SEX-SLAVES for the last century Earth-time – on finally gaining their liberation from such an existence; I will not dignify it with the term 'life' – decided that their future was best guaranteed by coming to Earth." As my mind rocked from THAT tsunami of information – and flashbacks of my experiences in Megatokyo in 2037 dealing with Genom's boomers came back to me – she added, "And thus, effectively crippling the alliance of local galactic powers that – thanks to their willingness to adhere to the principles of realpolitik every time something threatened them – allowed them to suffer for as long as they did." I fought down the outrage billowing in my heart. "What of their former masters?" "Defeated. Effectively rendered helpless," Kumomi flatly announced. "Hiromi-san and her siblings – this was over a month after their souls were pulled from Ataru-san's mind – joined a combined force of humanoid warriors from the planets Noukiios and Yehisril, aided by celestial dragons from both worlds – to attack the planet where the bioroid factory that created our numerous sisters was located." As I gazed at her, a huntsman's smile crossed her face. "Thanks to the blessings of the Heavens – though I'll certainly understand if you refuse to acknowledge such as a 'blessing' – the liberation of our sisters occurred without loss to any of them. Though their 'masters' suffered grievously for their grotesque behaviour: Five million died on Phentax Twelve – the planet where the bioroid factory was one – and over three million in the space fleet our sisters' former masters possessed; that was destroyed by the ch'uokyek of Noukiios and the ib'f of Yehisril." I interpreted those terms as "great dragons" and "dragons" respectively. "As restitution, the space dry-docks and space factories the Niphentaxians – the Avalonians' ex-masters – possessed were seized as 'war booty' and brought to Earth." I nodded; obviously, the race-name "Avalonian" was the term used for bioroids of my hosts' particular type. "What about possible retaliation?" I then asked. Hiromi sighed. "In a way, we were very lucky, Doug-san. By the time we moved to free the Avalonians from slavery, the Niphentaxians – who are genetically a race of mimics similar to the Iotians from Star Trek – had simply become too lazy. You're an American. You know the history of your country from before the War Between the States, do you not? How did the people of the states which tried to form the Confederacy in 1861 view their lifestyle, all supported by chattel slaves once imported from Africa?" As I nodded – even if I was an engineer by training, I did know my country's past quite well; working in a team of warriors from across the planet, insults and comments about the bad side of being an American were commonplace – she smiled. "While there is a chance that the Niphentaxians might seek some retribution should they shake away their years of laziness, there are those amongst their kind who DO understand what happened and why . . . and are working to make the remainder of their society confirm. For those who – if luck shines their way – wish to press issues, this ship we're on . . . " "Helps guard against it," I finished for her. "Hai." Hiromi then looked weary. "When I first truly became my own person, Doug-san, all I was concerned about at the time was ensuring my family – Onii-san, One-sama and One-san – was safe and sound. On returning to Earth after helping the Avalonians free themselves, we met up with Tsukihana-kun and a friend of his, who had spent the previous several months using an abandoned starship construction satellite they found in a dead solar system not too far from here to construct Haida and forty-nine other such ships. And given Onii-san's experiences with other aliens – provoked two years ago when the Niphentaxians' allies, the Urusians, threatened to 'invade' us . . . to be staved off when Onii-san won a game of tag against the Urusian champion – I realised I had no choice but to make sure Earth was protected as much as all the Avalonians needed and deserved to be protected." A smile. "So – when the United Nations here, in their wisdom, declared me to be the leader of the Earth Defence Force – I ultimately became responsible for the good welfare of nearly TEN BILLION sentient beings, Doug-san. Over seven billion Terrans and nearly three billion Avalonians." "What about overpopulation issues?" I then asked, my mind boggling at those numbers. "Fortunately for us, our defeat of the Niphentaxians – and, by the extension, the Urusians; they are, for the most part, a very arrogant and selfish species – impressed one of our closer galactic neighbours: The Seifukusu Dominion," Kumomi stated. "So much so, in fact, that they were willing to allow us to take control of THIRTY Class M worlds – again, using the Star Trek term – in many solar systems to the galactic 'west' and 'south' of us that they had no use for anymore. The total territory size is about two hundred by three hundred light-years in a roughly trapezoidal shape." As I gaped at her, she smiled. "And right now, people who wish to get away from crowded cities and breath clean country air are lining up to migrate to those new worlds, which are being divided according to overall Terran population at this time. Japan, for example, will share a planet named 'Pacifica' with the Koreas, Taiwan and Mongolia. Canada will share a planet named 'Vinland' with many Caribbean states. It goes on and on." "Wow . . .!" I breathed out, and then I perked as something came to me. "Are Terrans and Avalonians genetically compatible?" "Certainly," Hiromi said with a smirk. "So atop a considerable technological leap forward into the future, there's going to be a considerable evolutional leap as well. Maybe not to the Yizibajohei extreme, but the chances are that fate-gifted and naturally-born metahumans will be making their appearance here as well." "For the first time since the Second World War," Kumomi added. "Wow . . .!" I breathed out again . . . . . . and then perked as the other door leading into this room opened, revealing a woman Hiromi's age, though she had long blue-green hair and brown-grey eyes under reading glasses. She was dressed in casual civilians in the same general fashion as Hiromi wore – though this one had a jean skirt in lieu of jeans – and she had a gold headband holding part of her hair down. As my mage-sight clicked in, I noted she was also a bioroid – and yes, a toshi as well, though her earring was gold and not silver – and I was quick to pick up on the celestial dragon within her. Though in THIS one's case, the being within her was truly ALIEN and not Terran-type like Kumomi's. "Husband, aren't you . . . who's this?" she then asked as she gazed on me. I blinked. Shades of Ten'o Haruka and Kai'o Michiru! Hiromi was gay. And if that was accepted here . . .! Hiromi chuckled. "A visitor from another dimension, my wife," she said. "Doug-san, may I present one of my lovers in this life and my second wife in my first, Izuku Mioko. She's known by the battle-name 'Kamikyo Reishi.' Mioko, this is Douglas Sangnoir-taisa of the United Nations Metahuman Peacekeeping Force. He goes by the battle-name 'Looney Tunes' and he's a sorcerer, arch-mage class." Mioko perked, and then she smiled at me. "Well met, Master Douglas," she said as she gave me a classical kung fu-like salute with her hands, though it was the right fist into the left palm and not the other way around. "I trust you weren't hurt." "He was unconscious when he arrived and we sent down Henrietta-chan and her friends to go fetch him, My Empress," Kumomi stated. I was quick to note that Mioko seemed not to mind being called "empress." "This is not the first time he's been forced to move from dimension to dimension. He's been separated from his home dimension – and a most caring wife – for nearly fifteen decades in his personal time-line." As Hiromi and Mioko gasped on hearing that, their eyes tearing in honest sympathy, Kumomi added, "No doubt, whatever fickle fate decided to force him on such a journey will stop at nothing to push, push and keep on pushing until he either breaks or they show mercy to him." "Oh, really?" Mioko stated with a look of pure disgust. "Then I suggest we go send Negako-sama out to thrash the louts for their petty behaviour." "Getting One-sama to do that will be difficult, Mioko-vayae," Hiromi noted. I smirked on sensing the translation of that honorific: My beloved. And that made sense to me. Despite my personal preference to avoid celestial beings like phoenixes and dragons, I knew they mated for life. "Well, it should still be done, Dearest," Mioko stated with the voice of someone who was clearly used to commanding others to do her bidding. What the hell was the difference between Hiromi – who was an actual EMPEROR of China in her first life! – and Mioko, who was simply Hiromi's wife and mother to his/her children back then? "If Master Douglas has remained devoted to his beloved all this time, he deserves to be returned home as quickly as can be done!" "Why couldn't you be one of the Fates?" I then pleaded. Laughter filled the room . . . and then a voice called out, "What's so funny, Mama?" I blinked before I turned . . . . . . and then gaped on seeing what had to be the CUTEST seven year-old kid I'd EVER encountered in my travels. Clearly possessing the genetics of both Hiromi and Mioko in her body – and yes, this one was a bioroid, too; the body was about the same age as Mioko's – she was dressed in a pinafore with a red T-shirt underneath, the design of which clearly matched what her parents wore. Given the sprinting jackrabbit insignia over the kanji ?? for "Tomobiki" – the name was one of the six days in the Japanese calendar that marked what sort of luck one might experience – I would assume this was the couple's high school. But WHY on Earth would someone go out and name a high school of all things after the concept of bad luck descending on a person's friends? "We have a guest, Arami-chan," Mioko said as she leaned down to lift the girl into her arms. "We have a grand sorcerer with us." She waved to me. "This is Master Douglas Sangnoir, who calls himself 'Looney Tunes.'" She blinked. "'Looney Tunes?'" "My mage-gift is centred on music, Mioko-san," I answered her. Yes, she was a dragon – and an ALIEN one at that! – but hers and Hiromi's child had not been touched at all by Celestial power . . . and by the feel of pure love Arami's parents felt, they seemed to prefer that Arami lived that way. So clearly, even if Celestial power was involved with toshi – Arami's earring was a crimson-red shade; she didn't strike me as even a beginner fighter – they still seemed to strive to be as normal human as possible. And while there was a shrinking yet still present part of me that still demanded to know what the game was, I was starting to realise that in THIS universe, it was possible for mortals to be touched by Celestials and NOT be corrupted or influenced by such infinite power. What was the secret here? "Any specific type of music?" Hiromi then wondered, clearly curious by my gifts. "Any type that has lyrics that I can interpret," I answered. "Using the song as inspiration, I can channel my magic to do all sorts of things." I paused as I wondered if I should do this in front of these beings, and then – despite the part of me warning me NOT to indulge my deepest desire now, especially in the presence of three Celestials-in-mortal form – I picked up my helmet and flipped open the external speakers to the "on" position. Once done, I flipped open the keypad and searched for the song I wanted. As the three older women in the room patiently waited, Arami motioned with her arms to be let down to the deck. Once Mioko had obliged her, the young girl scampered around the table, then got up onto the chair next to mine to look at my helmet. I stared at her, and then smiled. What the heck! "Here, press this," I then bade. Arami did so . . . The Darkside is coming, now nothing is real. She'll never know just how I feel. From out of the shadows, she walks like a dream. Make me feel crazy! Make me feel so mean! "Hey, Gorgeous!" that wonderful voice echoed from nearby. "Hey! What's this place?!" * * * Local date and time: Monday 10 May 2011, 3:28 AM JST Local location: Senshobu-jinja, Tomobiki-cho, Nishitokyo-shi, Tokyo-to, "Mizuho . . . " "No . . . his pain . . . " "MIZUHO!" Inada Mizuho – who had been hovering on the edge of total emotional collapse ever since her mind locked in on the travelling arch-mage sorcerer she had sensed three hours before – gasped on hearing that barked voice, and then she shook her head for a moment as the powerful empathic link between her and Douglas Sangnoir faded from her mind. "I . . . so lonely, Negako-sama . . .!" she moaned out as she gazed with tear-filled eyes at Moroboshi Negako. "He loves her so much . . .!" Negako took a deep breath. "To answer the question you clearly wish to ask, Mizuho: YES, you can bring Margaret to this dimension." She then leaned close to gaze with her almost-black eyes upon the younger survivor of The Program. "But ask yourself this, Mizuho: What will happen to Margaret when she and Douglas attempt to leave this dimension together and enter those realms influenced by the beings you immediately believed planned to threaten Douglas' life before you brought him to Welland?" Mizuho blinked, and then she shuddered as her respect and near-reverence for the grandmaster of Saiko Jinseijutsu-ryu clashed HARD with her own personal sense of romance, a typical affliction for fifteen year-old Japanese high school freshmen despite her being psi-bonded to Niimi Rena for the last five months. Atop that, her own powerful sense of right and wrong was mixing together with her personal beliefs to urge her to give in to her desire to use the Staff of Gihan to reach out through the Multiverse and locate one Maggie Sangnoir to bring her to this dimension and reunite her with her beloved husband. After all, to a devoted Zoroastrian, the supreme deity was the Creator Himself, Ahura Mazda. The only other being of near-equal rank to the "Master" – as Mizuho always addressed Him as – was Ahura Mazda's arch-rival, A?ra Mainiuu, the living Spirit of Entropy and all that was not good with Creation. And to Mizuho's mind, the idea of a devoted couple being SEPARATED by these "fates" for nearly FIFTEEN CENTURIES – in the husband's viewpoint – was WRONG! It could NOT be tolerated! Yet . . . Yet . . . Yet . . . "He misses her so much, Negako-sama . . .!" Mizuho moaned. A nod. "That he should given his devotion to his own personal beliefs. But even if deities and other such entities had strict controls over their actions in OUR part of the Multiverse, that is not so true elsewhere," Negako warned. "There are beings out there who desire Douglas to continue to travel from dimension to dimension and timeline to timeline on his 'quest' to his home dimension. In their eyes, his interaction with people such as the Knight Sabres, the Nornir living in Nekomi, the Evangelion pilots and others, Douglas has contributed most positively to the lives of those he has interacted with. They desire him to continue such a process within reason." A sigh. "And yes, there are those entities such as those you sensed three hours ago that would desire Douglas' permanent demise to prevent him from performing more such deeds." "In other words, if you bring Mrs. Sangnoir here, you present TWO targets to those dark kami you sensed earlier this evening, Mizuho-chan," Sakura added. Mizuho blinked. "What should I do . . .?" "Ask him." She perked, and then turned to gaze on Rena. "Beloved . . . " "Tell him what forced you to bring him here, Mizuho-vayae," Rena stated. "And ASK him if he thinks it's okay to bring his wife here. Once he says 'yes,' do it." Mizuho blinked, and then she nodded before grasping the Staff. In a flash of energy, she vanished from Japan. Watching her go, Sakura moaned, and then she gazed in annoyance at Negako. "Is THIS helping her control that thing?!" "She will learn from Douglas, Sakura. Never fear," the ninjutsu grandmaster noted. The Shinto shrine miko moaned . . . * * * - Pyeknu - 06-30-2012 The final small part before crunch-time. **** **** **** Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 2:31 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A12 Aft, Flag Officer's Level, To even TALK to Maggie – even just a magical simulacra of her – hurt so much. It hurt so much . . . "Doug-san, I don't even know what to begin to say to you . . . " I blinked on hearing those words from Hiromi, and then I found myself smiling as Arami gave me a tender hug. As I turned to kiss the young girl on the forehead, I gazed on my host for a moment, and then I sighed. "Director Moroboshi, I owe you a very deep apology," I then declared. "I must confess that given my past experiences with beings I tend to view under the catch-all term 'Celestials,' the fact that you are touched by a power I believe akin to that of a phoenix – as your lover and your friend here are touched by dragons – certainly doesn't take away from the fact that you are all striving to live normal lives despite your current circumstances. In many ways, you remind me of my own commanding officer, who – while possessing a Celestial aspect to her own being – also lives her life as 'normally' as possible even if she could be seen as an elder storm goddess by some. You clearly desire to assist me in my trip back to my home dimension and time-line. I would welcome such help. In turn, I will gladly offer anything within reason to allow the Earth Defence Force to better prepare itself for its mission ahead for both Terran and Avalonian alike." Hiromi – hers and Mioko's cheeks were wet from the tears they had shed when they had seen Maggie's simulacra; even Kumomi had been moved – nodded. "Your apology, I accept, Lord Colonel Sangnoir," she said. "Though I ask one thing right now." "Ask, please." A wink. "Please do NOT call me 'Director' or anything save my name!" she pleaded, which made Mioko giggle, Arami – who was trying to fight back the sorrow she felt for me – snicker and Kumomi smirk. "And if you may, good sir, please try not to use '-sama' with my name! Or I will have no choice but to call you 'Sangnoir-taisa' until you're sick to death of hearing it . . . AND arrange for proper navy side parties when you step on and off this ship or any of her sisters while you're with us." "You say that as if it's a bad thing," I then cautioned as I raised a warning finger. Then, after a pause but – before she could answer – I smiled. "Okay, it is a bad thing. But don't assume that everybody hates ceremony, Hiromi-chan." "He does have a point, My Emperor," Kumomi noted. As Hiromi grumbled under her breath, I was quick to sense the light smile on Kumomi's face after she said that. Noting that despite the ancient bonds of loyalty that drove the latter girl towards calling my host by her first-life's title, she did have a sense of humour, I relaxed myself. "It's a deal, Hiromi-chan," I vowed. "Well, that's a good thing," Mioko stated. "Though Master Douglas, may I humbly give you some wise advice?" As I gazed at her, Hiromi's lover winked. "When you gain the chance to meet my beloved's sister Negako-sama, please do NOT call her 'sensei' or any other title beyond either the '-sama' honorific or its cognates in other languages." "True advice, my love," Hiromi affirmed. "One-sama has been often mistaken as a living avatar of Mother Gaia Herself due to her origins, Doug-san. Atop that, her viewpoint on life as a whole is as pure a form of Taoism as Master Laozi himself." As I nodded – quickly recognising the reference to Lao Tzu; no doubt, Hiromi spoke Mandarin Chinese in lieu of Cantonese or any of the other main dialects – she added, "To her, there is the living world we are in . . . and there is the Te'a. Because our souls emerge from the Te'a at birth and return to the Te'a upon our passing from this life, the need of have such titles is ultimately useless." She then smirked. "Though I will confess there is only ONE person she will address by rank: The Heavenly Sovereign of Japan." I blinked. Through the ship's translation fields, "Te'a" was interpreted as "that which is above mortal understanding," which made no sense to me . . . until I realised that whatever its origin, such clearly was an odd interpretation of the Taoist concept of Non-Being. Perhaps mixed with the Force concept from Star Wars, but I'd have to dig deeper into that. Was THIS the big secret of this universe? "What is she?" I asked. "Our world's first true artificial intelligence, Doug-san," Kumomi answered. As I gaped at her, she smiled. "That which would eventually become Negako-san was first created by a corporeal immortal being named Hozan Hirosuke a thousand years ago as a mental storehouse of martial arts knowledge and experience which could be added onto by memory-copying of select ninjutsu-ka – to borrow the modern term – from the family that was giving this 'gift' by the Immortal Master: Hiromi-san's very own ancestors, so to speak." As I nodded, she added, "Over the years, the 'databank' eventually acquired the name given to the Art it was meant to serve as the ultimate library to: Saiko Jinseijutsu-ryu, one of the accepted daughter-schools of the Immortal One's own school, the Tensei-ryu. When one was the host of such a being, one was literally an unstoppable warrior . . . as many tôshi centuries ago learned to their cost." "Those who bore that which would become One-sama were often used as special enforcers in the name of the Heavenly Sovereigns by the Shogun to kill off toshi and other such malcontents when they began making TOO much noise after the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600 effectively united the nation," Hiromi added. "However, in 1808, my ancestors learned that there was another such database of knowledge held by a then-unknown clan from remote Hokkaido, the Hana family. We learned it this way: In the midst of a tsunami, when they were rescuing drowning fishermen, the host of the Hana family's version of the Saiko Jinseijutsu drowned. And in his last act, he forced his own database into the mind of my ancestor. Once the two databases became one being . . . " "The sentience threshold was surpassed," I finished. "Negako-san literally 'woke up.'" "Aye. In that incident, a terrible conundrum for both families was then presented," my host stated. "While they did understand magicals and immortals and other such beings, they couldn't – for the most part – comprehend an artificial intelligence like One-sama. And when she – rightly so, I might add – decided she wanted to have her own body for herself instead of living in my ancestor's subconscious mind, that profound incomprehension turned into blind fear. In the battle that resulted from that, half of Hokkaido was laid waste until One-sama's then-host made a very sacred promise." "To find some way to give her what she wanted," I concluded. A nod. "Aye. And thus began the Promise of Bunka Go-nen; that is the Japanese era name and year date that is the equivalent to 1808 in the Gregorian calendar. Since that time, One-sama's soul – not to mince words – was carefully preserved by those who took up the Sacred Promise from the time the soul-transference until the death of the host necessitated another soul-transference. When One-sama was made a part of Onii-san's mind eleven years ago, he became the fifty-seventh person to make the Promise." She then smiled. "And the one who survived to see it fulfilled." Wow! THAT was a lot to take in! "So when you do meet Negako-san, do not be surprised if she is rather curt and neutral in her behaviour towards you," Kumomi stated. "She has had little cause to trust and respect human beings over the last two centuries. Her hosts and a few others notwithstanding." A knowing smile. "I dare say that your delightful companion housed now in that laptop computer you have stored in the cargo compartment of your motorcycle would interest Negako-san MUCH more than you would." As I gaped at her – How the hell did she sense Eimi?! I immediately demanded – she opened her eyes to wink at me. "And speaking of which, I do believe the Elder Mother of the Avalonians now aboard . . . " A knock. "Enter, Naoko-chan!" Hiromi bade. The main door opened to reveal a pretty girl of about twenty or so, with shaggy hair the shade of evergreen and amethyst eyes. She was also in Navy work dress, the looped stripe of an acting sub-lieutenant on her shoulder boards. Her family name TAKANASHI was written on her nametag. She also had a wedding band of some sort on one finger. "I apologise for intruding on you like this, One-sama, but Doug-san's guest quarters have been prepared," she said before she gave me a friendly smile. "Captain Gamblin insisted that he be quartered in the guess cabin on the senior officer's level in the forward superstructure given his rank in his universe. When he's had a chance to rest up and everything, he'll be invited to the captain's cabin for supper, of course." As I gaped at her, Naoko smiled. "Would you like to get your things first, Doug-san?" I slowly nodded . . . * * * Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 3:23 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A10 Forward, Senior Officer's Quarters, "Still not there yet, huh?" "Afraid not, Eimi," I said in return as I gazed on the cute image on my laptop computer screen in the spacious room I had been given to rest and relax in for however long I might be in this dimension. "But I was detected right away; the local tech is high enough to detect world-gates. I take it you've sensed where we're at now." Eimi seemed to blink-blink for a moment as her central consciousness sought out the modem cable that now connected the device she was in to Haida's part of this world's Tapestry . . . and then a look of sheer disbelief crossed her face for a moment as the information finally started to came in; Hiromi had arranged to grant me unlimited Top Secret access to all the files that were stored in this ship's mainframe computer. "A starship . . .?" I smirked. I rather guessed for all her sophistication and sentience, she had long got used to the lower levels of tech that we had encountered since we began travelling together many years and dimensions ago. To find herself in Tapestry HEAVEN . . .! "Nearly transwarp capable by the Star Trek scale; can hop from one end of the galaxy to the other in mere minutes," I provided for her; looking over Haida's schematics had been the first thing I had done through the desktop machine that was provided for me by the smiling Takanashi Naoko, who was now moving to unpack my clothing and put it away. "With enough firepower to turn a living planet Earth's size into a cinder in space. Though my current hosts wouldn't ever dream of doing something like that." "A starship . . .?" "Yep," I answered. Eimi gaped at me, which seemed to concern Naoko as she came over to gaze over my shoulder at my friend. "I hope she's not going to suffer a breakdown, Doug-san." Eimi blinked several times as she focused on Naoko, and then she gaped. No doubt, she had just learned about the Avalonians. "You're a bioroid?" "Terran-form Avalonian," Naoko stated. "Peace, logic and harmony unto you, Eimi-san." My friend gaped for a second, and then she sighed. "Wow . . .!" "Tell me this, Doug-san: Does Eimi-san like being in a box?" I jolted on hearing that slightly-cold voice, and then I turned to see a girl with green-highlighted black hair standing at the open doorway to my cabin. She was in Navy combat dress – as the local black work dress was called here – but had Air Force blue epaulettes on her shoulders, they marked with the unit tag 21 ACCS, which indicated the 21st Air Communications and Control Squadron, the mobile signals command and support group for Haida's aerospace contingent, 21 Space Wing of the Canadian Forces Air Command. Her family name ASAI was on her chest under the squadron's crest, a sky blue field with a two-headed thunderbird of Haida over a trio of lightning flashes emitting from the Earth under the thunderbird's tail. "Mayumi-chan!" Naoko then snapped. "Even if you'd want to help Eimi-san like you did Lal-san when we met up with the Enterprise crew at Christmas time, there IS the problem of what happens when something from another dimension transits to this dimension and vice-versa." As Eimi and I both gaped at her, Naoko added, "Especially if you decide to create a bioroid body for her!" "There is a problem with your theory, oh Ashi'cha of mine," Mayumi then stated as she slipped off her reading glasses to clean them. I was quick to interpret that phrase as meaning "elder mother" in what I suspected was the Avalonian language. "Doug-san shows the signs of residing for decades on many strops in his journey." As I blinked, wondering how this girl got hold of my life-scan readings – Did she hack into Narumi-chan's medical logs? – Mayumi put her glasses on. "Given he seems to be shielded by unknown means from being forced back into his home dimension, the chances are good that if I did create a physical body for Eimi-san, she will be so likely blessed." "Don't start!" Naoko stated. "While Eimi-san might like a change of scenery, she was created in her current form and would probably find the transition to corporeal form traumatic. Try to be more empathic, please! You were built for it, remember?" "So were you, Naoko-chan," Mayumi noted. "I AM being empathic about it. But I have my own morals and beliefs to acknowledge as well." A nod to me, and then she was off. I blinked several times. "You resident mad scientist, I take it?" "She was modelled that way," Naoko confessed. "Where from?" Eimi asked. My current guide smiled. "Eimi-san, go into the personnel files section of the ship's memory," she then said. "My personal file folder is under my name in Western name format. Passcode is 'S-H-I-N-O-B-I-4-E-V-E-R.' Access all the files marked under the sub-folder 'Grand Prix.' Look at the pictures there and you'll get the idea." Eimi blinked . . . and then a look of righteous outrage crossed her face. "HENTAI SUKEBE! WHO THE HECK MODELLED YOU AFTER SOMETHING LIKE THAT, NAOKO-SAN?!" "My would-be master." Naoko then gazed at me. "Though fortunately, unlike so many of my own sisters on Earth and beyond, I never had the displeasure of meeting the man." "What happened?" I asked. "Tsukihana-oniisama and Ayami-onesama happened," she replied. I knew that the latter name hinted at Haida's co-designer and co-builder, Hakaru Ayami. "As our would-be master – there were a total of 415 of us – was returning home from a shopping trip on Zeiwan, they happened upon us in Arizona and Yamato. We were all in our storage tubes, having just got out of gestation aboard the factory on Phentax Twelve before we were programmed and woken. As to why that happened this way, I can't say. But when we were sensed by Arizona's life sensors and identified as having a Sagussan genetic profile, we were all beamed out before our master was any the wiser. After he realised we had been 'stolen' from him, he contacted Onii-sama and One-sama and threatened us with the retribution of the 'One True Church of Lum' for their actions." I grinned. "What happened?" "He was beamed into one of his ship's own escape pods and it was made to jettison from his ship . . . just before Yamato's guns wrecked it." As Eimi cheered and I laughed, Naoko stated. "My first waking moment was finding myself on Haida after Onii-sama and One-sama met up with Hiromi-onesama and we were inbound to Sol. Over the following months, I became her major-domo on this ship and was acknowledged as Ashi'cha after my soul was augmented with the souls of one of the amnesiac toshi then trapped within a device known as the Dragon Jade." She pointed to her own earring in emphasis. I looked at it. It was like Hiromi's magatama, though it was shaped like a maple leaf cut right out of the Canadian flag and was shaded evergreen. It had a fouled anchor and a British naval coronet etched on it. A trade badge of some sort, I realised. "So what are you doing right now?" I wondered. "Haida was just commissioned last summer. You all came here last February in your time-line. Basic training?" "MARS – that's naval operations – training for myself at H.M.C.S. Venture in Esquimalt," Naoko stated. "Ditto with Tomomi-chan and several others. Others have either passed their basic trades training in the ranks or are still going through it. Even if, in some places, they don't need it." A wink. "Military mentality, I'm afraid." I laughed . . . and then perked on hearing a knock at my door. I looked over to see an elderly man with a golden Canadian coat of arms insignia on his shoulder boards. He had the same type of branch badge as Tomomi wore on his beret. No doubt, this man was the equivalent of a British Army regimental sergeant-major on this ship, though I had no idea what it was called in the Canadian Navy. "Yes?" I asked. "Sorry to bother you, Colonel Sangnoir, but the lady who actually brought you to our dimension is aboard and in the observation lounge now," the other man said. "She's got everything for a formal tea ceremony set up there. She wants to talk to you." I gaped . . . * * * HMCS Haida's Theme Song - Doug's Mage-Gift Reaction? - Pyeknu - 06-30-2012 By the by, Bob, how would Doug's powers react to In A Class of Her Own? - robkelk - 06-30-2012 Pyeknu Wrote:The final small part before crunch-time.I've written complete stories that are longer than these "small parts"... Pyeknu Wrote:"Tell me this, Doug-san: Does Eimi-san like being in a box?""This is some strange new meaning of 'help' that I wasn't previously aware of. As for the question, I can speak for myself, thank you very much. My father offered to build a human form for me months before I met Doug. I refused. And you don't need to know why." Oh, dear. Eimi's angry. That's never good. Maybe she won't do anything rash - she's probably downloading the Haida's entire database by now and obtaining new knowledge always cheers her up - but I'd better have a talk with her later, just to be sure. And I doubt Eimi will ever be friends with Mayumi-chan. (Naoko gets Eimi's reason right, BTW - she was built that way, and Eimi's comfortable in her own body. But because of the way Mayumi asked, Eimi will never confirm that while she's in this universe.) -- Rob Kelk "Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of the same sovereign, servants of the same law." - Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012 - Pyeknu - 06-30-2012 I'll see if I can sneak this in, Rob. Thanks. Anyhow, after being woken up at oh-dark hundred by my IV pump demanding a new bag of meds, I'm going to crash for a bit. - robkelk - 06-30-2012 You're welcome, and take care of yourself... -- Rob Kelk "Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of the same sovereign, servants of the same law." - Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012 First Part of Chapter Two, Initial Draft - Pyeknu - 07-02-2012 To make things easier for me, I'm going to put the scene snippets in this comment thread while make separate threads for completed parts. Anyhow, here's the first part of Part 2: **** **** **** Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 4:24 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A12 Aft, Flag Officer's Level, "A TRAVELLER FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION?!" Moroboshi Hiromi nodded. "Aye, my friends. A most delightful fellow . . . though quite a tad distrustful of those possessed by what he terms 'celestials.'" "Which would include the haoryu inside people like myself, the ch'uokyek power Mioko-san and her sister possess . . . not to mention yourself, Ataru-kun and Negako-san to boot!" Koro Sonami noted from her apartment in Chichibu. All of Hiromi's "special advisors" – in effect, the leaders of the Seven Battle Schools of Kanto and their affiliate schools, plus others – had been alerted to what was now happening in south-central Ontario by special text message alerts and were waiting for a chance to hear from their reborn emperor. "Were you able to show him we didn't mean him any harm?" "He eventually got the message, cousin. Even apologised for his earlier behaviour," Hiromi said as she gave the current leader of Seito and her favourite adopted cousin a kind look. "I think it was Arami-chan and her NOT having any sort of 'celestial' power within her that convinced Master Douglas that people such as myself and Kumomi-san weren't like the selfish dullards he's no doubt had to deal with in the past." "That's a relief," Tsukasa Torusuke noted. "Negako-san warned us of what Mizuho-chan sensed when she moved to bring him here. Could these things threaten us?" "I do not believe so, Torusuke-sempai," Koeru Kumomi said from Hiromi's left side. Izuku Mioko was seated to her reborn husband's right in the UNEDF director's meeting room. "Clearly when they moved to stop Mizuho-chan from pulling their 'prey' away, they sensed something about our universe which did not agree to them." "But they could be out there waiting for Doug-san to emerge from under the protection of our dimension," Kokoni Kichimi noted from her private apartment near Gogun Senior High School. "Once he's out in the open and ready to be targeted again . . . " "Open season on the man," Futoshi Itsuku noted from his place beside Kichimi. "What if we tried to get him home on Haida or one of the other ships?" Kashira Emi asked from her private quarters at Nanban High School. "There is that possibility, Emi-san," Hiromi mused. "But before we do anything, I want to make sure the whole situation is thoroughly analysed before we make a move." The others nodded. "So what's he like?!" a cheery voice then asked. "What do you mean, Tsueko-san?" Hiromi asked, dreading what Mago Tsueko wanted to know. "Is he a good fighter?!" the leader of the Nan'yo Academy asked. Hiromi rolled her eyes as the others either laughed or snickered . . . **** **** **** The Loon and the Ladies from Avalon by Fred Herriot **** **** **** Killing Me Softly with His Song (1973) as performed by Roberta Flack, written by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox. **** **** **** Comments and story suggestions by Robert M. Schroeck and Rob Kelk. **** **** **** Based on the situations depicted in Drunkard's Walk, created by Robert M. Schroeck; and Phoenix From the Ashes, created by Fred Herriot. **** **** **** Including characters and situations created by Fred Herriot, Robert M. Schroeck, Peggy Schroeck, Helen Imre, Mike Smith and Gregg Sharp. **** **** **** Also including characters, situations and references from Men in Black, created by Lowell Cunningham; Zenkoku Seifuku Bishojo Grand Prix, created by Lyceen; Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, written by Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon and directed by Stephen Herek; Ojosama Express, created by Mediaworks and Seven Bright; Ikkitosen, created by Shiozaki Yuji; Urusei Yatsura, created by Takahashi Rumiko; Battle Royale, created by Takami Koshun; Top Gun, created by Ehud Yonay, Jim Cash and Jack Epps Jr.; and Doki Doki Pretty League, created by Xing. **** **** **** DISCLAIMER: Concurrent with fair dealing clauses of the Copyright Act (R.S.C., 1985, c. C-42) of Canada and fair use clauses in copyright legislation in other nations, this is a work that was created solely for entertainment purposes. Furthermore, it is posted freely on the Internet without expectation or requirement of remuneration. **** **** **** Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 7:02 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A10 Forward, Senior Officer's Quarters, I was tempted. I have to personally admit that I had NEVER been tempted by anything quite at the scale than what Inada Mizuho – out of the goodness of her heart – offered to me today. To actually use the Staff of Gihan – which, after I did get the chance to use my mage-sight on it after it toned down the power intake it drew in from the Te'a so that I didn't short out my magical sensing gifts even temporarily – to reach out back to the dimension of my birth and bring my wife here to let me be with her after so long. I had never been tempted to give in to my heart's desire like that! So why did I refuse her? Well, it was pretty much as what Moroboshi Negako had warned Mizuho before we met. Bringing Maggie to me would present those Big, Ugly Critters that had been gunning for my handsome tushie TWO targets to go after should something go wrong and we wind up elsewhere in lieu of our proper home dimension of residence after our stay here. And much that I know Maggie can take care of herself in a fight . . .! ** ** ** "Are you sure, Master Douglas?" Mizuho had asked. I shook my head. "I want to be with her. But I want her to be safe, Mizuho." With that, she reluctantly nodded . . . ** ** ** After the cha no yu ended, I returned to my cabin as Mizuho and Rimi went back to their home, which was a Shinto shrine in Tomobiki, a suburb of Tokyo located west of Nerima Ward. Of course, Mizuho had vowed that if I changed my mind, she could come over right away to bring Maggie here, and then we'd work together to finally get me home. Before I could ever consider that, I would have to do some things first. Chief of which – when it came to my rescuer – was to help her better master the literal planet-wrecking doomsday weapon she now was bonded heart-and-soul to. While I personally did accept the Staff's explanation as to its origins – an A.I. created on the planet Sagussa 17,000 years ago by a whack-job master scientist called Gihan who wanted to create the ultimate personal weapons system, then mated to a focusing crystal that could allow it to cause stars to nova! – I wondered if there was some sort of stealthy Celestial or Celestial-like influence on the thing that could find its way into making things bad for the lady I now owed a life-debt to. And much that the Staff did seem on the side of the angels in this case – for what true reason, I had yet to learn, but had vowed to do same as quickly as I could – there was always the chance of something going very wrong. And with the Staff's power . . .! I'm sure a lot of people would appreciate some sort of control on that thing. In thinking of that, I then wondered this: Were there MORE of those things out there somewhere? Better to be safe than sorry . . . * * * After getting back to my cabin and taking the chance to shower and freshen up for supper, I was then escorted by Yamaguchi Seina into the living quarters of my military host, the commanding officer of H.M.C.S. Haida, a former submariner who had spent time commanding every type of warship Canada possessed these days named Brian Gamblin. Brian (as he insisted I call him since we were equal in rank by any nation's standards) is a silver-haired fellow with pale blue-grey eyes who currently had TWO rosettes on the Canadian Forces Decoration on his work shirt . . . which indicated a career of at least THIRTY-TWO years in Her Majesty's Navy! Even now, he seemed a little shell-shocked on being asked to command a starship, even though it was closing in on the first anniversary since he officiated at Haida's commissioning over Hamilton Harbour northwest of Welland when Queen Elizabeth II officially welcomed her into Maritime Command. But despite the overwhelming looks he showed to me at times when he described Haida's capabilities and her missions since the trip to a planet named Yaminokuni – that a world which was cloaked in darkness was called with the phrase "dark kingdom" in Japanese just made me laugh – inaugurated the Earth Defence Force proper, he did have a professional submariner's flexibility in thinking, which certainly helped. Of course, one of the running arguments he had with his counterpart on United States Starship Arizona, Captain Tom "Iceman" Kazanski, was the question as to what would make the ideal starship commanding officer, especially for the Type One ships which were the cornerstone of the proposed fleet. Brian Gamblin believed that submariners – as they were trained from day one to think in three dimensions – would make the right sort of starship C.O. Tom Kazanski – it took me just a minute to realise where I had once heard that name; in my universe, he was a character from a Tom Cruise movie named Top Gun that came out in 1986, played by Val Kilmer – was of the opinion that naval aviators or their equivalents for landlocked nations represented in the UNEDF would best fit the role, especially for the Haida-class Type One space battleship/carriers. "We agree to disagree on that," Gamblin told me, which made me laugh. In fact, it really stuck me as odd that despite this Earth's continuing conflicts – including a massive popular uprising across most of the Middle East that had already toppled governments in Egypt (which had a Haida-class ship, the an-Nil, as part of its Navy) and threatened to do the same in Saudi Arabia (home country to another of Haida's sisterships, the Al Su'ud), Yemen (home country of the al-Qasim al-Kabir) and Syria (home nation of the Madinatul Yasmin) – all the ships and crews of the UNEDF were dedicated to protecting the whole planet, even protecting the peoples individual crews might view as traditional enemies. Of course, the Tomobiki Treaty – called such because it had been signed at Hiromi's family dojo in Tomobiki when it had been written up the previous autumn – forbade any use of EDF ships or materials when dealing with local matters. Unless – and my mind just boggled at THIS! – it had been properly confirmed by the United Nations Special Committee on Alien Activities (the organisation that had dealt with issues of alien immigration and contacts with other words . . . and were seen as the civilian counterparts to the UNEDF) first. The SCAA were popularly known as the "Men In Black." And – after I had asked Hiromi this – I confirmed there was an Agent Kay (who looked a LOT like Tommy Lee Jones) and an Agent Jay (who could be Will Smith's twin brother) currently working as senior field officers for the UNSCAA. Hiromi and Brian – after I explained it to them – found it pretty funny, too! * * * After a delightful meal with Brian, I was invited by Chief Petty Officer 1st Class Jacques Beaulieu, Haida's coxswain – the term Canadians used for the senior non-commissioned officer on a Navy ship or shore station – to take the two-loonie tour of my current temporary home-away-from-home. And I have to admit – especially when I got a look at the giant warp drive ramjet systems that could propel this big ship at many MILLIONS of times past the speed of light – that the Sagussans really got a lot of things right on the nose when it came to high technology. Even better so, they clearly agreed to the Star Trek style of starship aesthetics even if Haida didn't even come CLOSE to looking like any version of the starship Enterprise in looks: Keep it clean, keep it nice and keep it warm and welcoming for the people who lived on this ship. Of course, the instant that they learned that "Master Looney Tunes" – as Koeru Kumomi had come to address me when the formal tones harkening back to the days of old China when her first-self lived – was taking the chance to look around, two unstoppable typhoons of energy named Ki Tsukihana and Hakaru Ayami were quick to make themselves available to explain all the wonderful details of their great creation. I will admit this, folks: On seeing both of them, I nearly broke down and cried. Tsukihana is fourteen. Ayami is almost sixteen. Both had not known the lives of normal kids for FOUR years! Chief Beaulieu – unlike his captain, Haida's coxswain was a stickler for military protocol, so he always called me "Colonel" and insisted I call him "Chief" in return – explained everything to me: When they were kids, both Tsukihana and Ayami were kidnapped with their parents by agents of a race called the Ipraedies. Think of them as green-skinned versions of Klingons from the original Star Trek television series with a massive love of Enlightenment-era clothing and you get the right idea. Since the Ipraedies – whose homeworld, Ipraedos, was located to Earth's galactic "east" at about seventy light-years range – saw themselves surrounded by enemies on all sides of their little domain, they decided they would strike out at the weakest point. And as luck would have it, Earth was the weakest point. To prepare themselves ahead of time, an estimated FIVE HUNDRED people – including the Ki and Hakaru families – were taken to Ipraedos and subjected to all sorts of special tortures and interrogations to learn what Earth people were like before a potential invasion would be launched. In the midst of this happening, both Tsukihana and Ayami lost their parents . . . which, ironically, won them sympathies by more peacefully-minded Ipraedies and helped them escape the planet when their captors were looking the wrong way. In their travels, they chanced upon a lucky find: A starship construction satellite the physical size of the Five Boroughs of New York City, Greater London and Metropolitan Tokyo COMBINED that had been abandoned in a dead star system known by the name "Den'sha" by the Avalonians' creators, the Sagussans, many millennia ago. Well, on realising what they had just found, the two orphaned kids decided that if the Ipraedies – or anyone else – was going to invade Earth, they'd run into something that would rip them apart before they realised they had waltzed into a fire sack. Three guesses as to what they built . . . . . . and the first two don't count, folks! And while all the military people I had met gladly admitted that these two kids had done a world of good by building Haida and her sisterships . . . . . . I just simply couldn't help but remember Ikari Shinji and Soryu Asuka Langley. Innocent kids that had been forced by Fate to become warriors. How many times was I going to run into this sort of thing . . .? * * * Of course, after I was done, I came back to my guest quarters where Seina – who seemed to have made it her personal mission in life to make sure yours truly was fed, watered and tucked in at night – was leaving behind some snacks and Red Rose orange pekoe tea. Before she could head off to make sure Brian and his fellow senior officers – the Wing Commander of 21 Space Wing, Colonel Mark Sullivan; and the Commanding Officer of the 1st Battalion of the Canadian Guards, Lieutenant-Colonel Allain Leclerc – were alright before turning in for the night, I asked her if she would be willing to be interviewed by me so I could get a better analysis of what an Avalonian actually was for my journey report that I would allow my friends to see once I got back to my home dimension. Seina was more than willing to agree; unlike many of her 212 "plank owner" sisters that formed the nucleus of Haida's crew over a year before, she had graduated from trades training at the Canadian Forces School of Administration and Logistics in Borden north of Toronto back near the end of March. And while her girlfriend, Matsu'ura Ai, would be heading back to the Canadian Forces Fleet School in Esquimalt to continue her basic training as a hull technician – what Americans would classify as a "hull maintenance technician" – first thing in the morning and repeating same every Monday morning (until Friday evening) until near the end of June, said Ordinary Seaman Matsu'ura had actually ORDERED Ordinary Seaman Yamaguchi to do everything to make sure that their Hiromi-onesama's wonderful guest felt right at home aboard H.M.C.S. Haida. Punishment for dereliction of duty: No sex for a MONTH! Ouch! I wasn't going to force a poor girl through THAT! No, sir! So . . . * * * Avalonians, I learned right away, were an ALL-FEMALE race of bioroids. The factory satellite unit itself had never been designed or programmed to make boys. This, I realised, was what helped contribute to the Niphentaxians' overall attitudes towards the Avalonians . . . though Seina had heard from older Avalonians whom she had met with over the last year that there had been those who saw the bioroids – to one extent or another – as living people in lieu of handy love-dolls. For every Avalonian who served as "comfort women" . . . . . . there were Avalonians who served as surrogate daughters or sisters . . . . . . and yes, even mothers, too. Since Avalonians were genetically compatible with Niphentaxians, among the 2.5 billion bioroids that had fled the Phentax star system a year before . . . . . . were well over several hundred MILLION hybrid children, including BOYS. When Seina underwent her TQ3 steward training at CFSAL, she had shared quarters with a pretty woman who had been made as a replacement daughter for an elderly couple then resident on Phentax Fourteen. A couple who didn't care for the official "decrees of the One True Faith" when it came to their bioroid daughter. A couple who would pay for their attitudes with their lives the day Carolyn Stevens was pulled off that planet. While Seina had slept peacefully during those twelve weeks at Borden . . . . . . Carolyn endured many nightmares of watching her parents shot down before her eyes just as a transporter beam whisked her away to her true birthplace. Nightmares that wouldn't stop until Seina acted as a nakodo and introduced Carolyn to a resource management support clerk trainee originally from Phentax Two named Janice Garfield, who herself had been adopted recently by an elderly couple from Winnipeg and would gladly welcome another "orphaned" Avalonian girl into their family. Right now, Carolyn and Janice were posted aboard the newly-commissioned destroyer H.M.C.S. Onondaga, based out of Halifax in Nova Scotia. In married quarters, of course! * * * Given their genetic descent from the Sagussans, I then learned this: Avalonians as a race are all bisexual. And like any other race I have encountered in my travels, they are also bound to certain behavioural traits that dominated their ancestors' lives. One of those traits came out in the Awakening. The Awakening – happening when someone is physically around age 12 in Earth years – is when an Avalonian develops her personal sense of the Te'a. As Seina herself described it, the Te'a is an energy field – Shades of the Force! – that exists in all physical things, even the near-vacuum of deepest space. However – and this, I guessed when I remembered what the word Te'a translated to in English – Sagussans and Avalonians came to associate this field of orange-yellow energy they could see with their mind's eye as a living Element of the Divine. Because of that, while Avalonians on Earth gladly acknowledged the various religious faiths that their Terran neighbours, friends and adopted family held as their own . . . . . . it was always balanced by the presence of the Te'a in their own minds. And since Avalonians believed that because one simply can NEVER know what lay beyond the Veil of the Te'a, it would be next to impossible to truly BELIEVE in a God in the Christian, Jewish or Islamic sense of the term . . . to say anything of the mixed-deity cultures in places like India, China and Japan always allowed. Thus – while she did respect the beliefs of her co-workers and did attend shipboard church services held by the chaplain, Major Vincent Klein – there was a part of Seina who always asked herself this one simple question: "Is this truly right?" * * * Learning that, I had one thought: Damn! The conclusion was rather obvious: No Celestial that I knew of would care too much for an Avalonian. A Celestial's bread and butter, so to speak, was the power of Faith itself. Yes, folks, you read that right. Faith is a power, just like Magic! Give a Celestial such tokens of Faith – even a simple show of respect as what I had ultimately done ages ago in Megatokyo when I held two dead children in my arms after a boomer rampage – and they had a powerful snare into your heart and soul. Thinking that, I realised an Avalonian would be a hard thing for a Celestial to snare. After all – if what the Staff of Gihan told me was true – the Te'a was the remnants of the very energy that unleashed the Big Bang and created the modern Multiverse. Running with that argument, any person like Yamaguchi Seina – who had living proof of the existence of the Te'a in every waking and sleeping moment! – would believe in AND HAVE FAITH IN Something that has been around for over thirteen billion years! Or thirteen thousand million years according to the old British way of counting. In other words, the oldest POWER in the known Cosmos! Compared to that, even elder Celestials such as Hexe would be babes in the woods! Damn . . .! * * * "Doug, are you alright?!" I jolted on seeing Seina leaning into my face, her eyes boring into mine with a stare that would make the most penetrating mage-sight gaze look quite pale in comparison. Hard to believe this woman was only TWO YEARS OLD chronologically. "I . . .!" I began, and then reached over. She gasped as I drew her into my arms and held her close. After a moment, she seemed to relax, and then leaned her head against my shoulder. As we held each other close – while I hoped I was doing nothing that could be seen as blatantly suggestive to Seina – she then giggled before pulling herself away from me . . . and then she made me blush to my toes when she leaned in to kiss me on the tip of my nose. "It's horrible what you've been through," she said. I gaped at her. "How . . .?" "I'm touch-telepathic as well as being empathic, Doug. All Avalonians are," she then explained as she gave me an apologetic look. "Even a handshake allows us to sense what someone else is thinking of. It's as natural to us as breathing. And while we're not as rabid about AVOIDING contact with other beings as Vulcans are – from what we learned when we met members of that race on the Enterprise back at Christmas – we don't like normally probing other people's minds without their knowledge. However, you were . . . broadcasting quite strongly. What happened to you all those years ago?" "What did you see?" A sigh. "Wrecked building. Two children cut apart really badly. No doubt dead. Two of the Knight Sabres as well; Asagiri Priss and Yamazaki Linna if what I remember of their hardsuit colours is right. And then you did something for them . . . " I nodded. "I made a deal with three Celestials – the Fates – to bring them back. In return for them being restored to life, I had to perform a favour for them. The favour ultimately entailed giving the boomers Genom created the ability to live free lives." Seina gazed at me, and then she nodded. "That seemed an equitable trade." I perked. "Seina-chan!" I then teased. "You're one of perhaps the only race I've ever encountered that a Celestial would find almost IMPOSSIPLE to play their normal tricks with." As she laughed, I then sighed. "How do you view It?" She gazed at me. "The Te'a?" "Yeah." "It is a part of all that exists. Without It, nothing can exist. My soul was given life by It when my body was first created. When I die, my soul will either merge with It . . . or pass through It and I will learn what lies for me in the next life. As I don't have any physical proof of what the Te'a truly is, I can't say any which way." I gaped at her. "Do you believe in deities?" "As in the hypothetical 'God' . . . or what you'd call a 'celestial?'" Damn! That telepathy of hers was incredible! "The former." A sigh. "If there was a Creative Spirit that ushered in Existence at the start when the Primal Atom was first sundered all those billions of years ago, I cannot make myself believe in such a thing. There's no proof – at least in Sagussan experience – that such a being existed. And why would I wish to inflict humanoid thought processes on the Te'a or whatever lies beyond the Te'a? After all, in the eyes of your friend here, would her 'god' – if she believed in one, of course – be the same as yours?" She waved at the laptop computer on my desk that held Eimi within it. I looked at it, noting that Eimi – who had appeared from behind a screen saver when Seina mentioned her – was gazing in our direction. "Is there something wrong?" "Do you believe in God, Eimi-san?" Seina asked. Eimi blinked. "Well, I've never seen any proof of such a being." "There you go," Seina concluded as she pulled herself away from me. "Did you do the right thing with those children you saved, Doug? Yes, you did. You don't need any god to judge that. You are your own final judge in things." She then smiled. "We all – regardless of race or type of being – make choices that could be viewed by some as 'good' or 'evil.' Or 'in the spirit of Creation' or 'enhancing Entropy.' Or whatever people choose to decide such things. But the ultimate judge if you did right or wrong – unless you have no way of judging due to insanity or lack of experience – is you." "If you're so young, how are you so wise?" I asked. A smile. "Even if I don't find all he speaks of as something I can believe in, there are a lot of good things that Padre Vincent speaks about in his sermons. You might want to talk to him about what you've been through." Seina then winked at me. "Besides, I'm a steward. Being a glorified bartender is part of the job description." I stared at her, and then I howled with laughter . . . * * * Local Date and time: Sunday 9 May 2011, 8:33 PM EDT Location: H.M.C.S. Haida, Deck A10 Forward, Senior Officer's Quarters, After Seina had left, I got another visit from Takanashi Naoko, who wanted to make sure I was settling in alright as she herself would be off to sunny Victoria at the southern end of Vancouver Island for another week of learning her trade at Venture. After assuring her that I would be fine and that I'd go to Seina if I needed help, she left. As soon as the two of us were alone, Eimi – to my surprise – figuratively exploded! "That . . . that . . . HER! Could she have been any ruder?!" Her outburst confused me. "'Her?' 'Her' who? And what was so rude?" "That 'mad scientist' that's on this ship!" "Oh!" Private Asai Mayumi, in other words. I'd forgot about her. "Her question about you living in a box? It wasn't that bad, Eimi." "Not the question!" she snapped as her face seemed to take on a very nice shade of cherry. "Her addressing you about my feelings when she knew I was right there!" She started to sing . . . not play back a sound file, but actually sing in her own voice: He sang as if he knew me In all my dark despair. And then he looked right through me As if I wasn't there . . . I didn't even think of that. Yes, looking at the question through Eimi's eyes, Mayumi-chan hadn't been a paragon of tact. "Do you want me to talk to her about that?" "What?! No!" As Eimi continued, she started to calm down, "No, that would just make things worse! She'd think she was right in asking you about what I want instead of asking me directly. But thank you anyway . . . " "Then I don't know what I can do for you." She sighed. "Don't do anything, Doug. If Asai is going to think of me as a thing instead of a person, I can simply ignore her." Oh, boy. A LOT of misconceptions – on ALL sides! – had to be cleared up before somebody's feelings were hurt permanently. But how . . .? I then perked on hearing a knock, and then turned . . . . . . to see a tall tomboyish girl standing at the doorway to my room. With shaggy blonde hair and dark grey eyes, she was in Navy combat dress with the brassard slip-on on her upper arm which marked her as a member of the Canadian Forces Military Police. Noting that, I nodded; Haida, at full manning strength, would have 6,500 people aboard, so having an on-board internal security team made a world of sense. And given her trade, she had a web belt with sidearm holstered on her hip. Her family name read TAKIZAWA. She had no rank on her shoulders and – after a quick check with my mage-sight – I confirmed she was Avalonian. "Everything okay here, Doug-san?" I gave her an assuring look. "Just a little argument here, Seaman Takizawa." "Call me Kaori," she amended as she walked inside, and then she peered at Eimi for a moment before she shook her head. "Mayumi no baka . . .!" I gaped. Dear gods, I just learned about the empathy and telepathy Kaori's people were capable of using thanks to Seina, but to be THAT sensitive . . .! Could Kaori actually have a META-GIFT?! "You can sense ME?!" Eimi demanded. "You're a sentient being, Eimi-san. And I'm at the high end of empathic sensitivity for my species," Kaori said. On hearing that, I realised that the potential for meta-gifts to become commonplace on my hosts' Earth – at least in psioncs – were well on the sunny side of "excellent" in a few decades . . . to borrow the term often used by two friends of mine from another dimension, Theodore "Ted" Logan and Bill S. Preston Esq, that I bumped into some time ago when I found myself in their time-travelling phone booth after a particularly easy world-gate jump. "In my eyes – and yes, in Mayumi-chan's eyes, too! – you're no different than the colonel here." She waved to me. "She didn't have to be so rude about it!" Eimi snarled back. A sigh. "What happened?" Kaori asked. Eimi gave the visiting military policeman – whom, if soldiers back in my dimension ever saw her, would forever foreswear calling them "meatheads!" – a quick low-down of our encounter with Mayumi some hours before. After taking that in, Kaori seemed to think about it for a moment, and then she sighed before she bowed deeply to Eimi, which made her gape and me blink. "Eimi-san, on behalf of my friend and sister Asai Mayumi-chan, I give you my deepest and sincerest apologies for her mistreatment of you when she spoke to your honourable travelling companion about allowing you to live your life as a corporeal entity in lieu of your present living circumstances." As Eimi blinked-blinked – and I, no doubt, did the same – Kaori gazed at my friend. "To explain what happened, Mayumi-chan doesn't normally try to be rude . . . but she can't help herself at times. It was the way she was programmed from the beginning. Even after we all got the chance to truly become alive when we got these . . . " – she pointed to her green earring with the crossed duelling flintlock pistols of her trade on there – " . . . she's still governed by that behaviour even to this day." "Why?" I asked. Kaori smirked. "Doki Doki Pretty League." I blinked. "The video game whose characters you're modelled after?" Eimi asked. "Hai. Mayumi-chan's namesake was an inventive genius. Our would-be 'master' – Naoko-chan told you about him right?" As Eimi and I nodded, Kaori sighed. "Well, he wisely wanted someone who could be an expert at anything technical. Mayumi-chan got to be that person. It certainly helped when we bumped into the Enterprise and we offered to help Data-san get Lal-chan back on her feet again." As my friend and I nodded again – being a somewhat casual Trekker, I had always thought "The Offspring" to be a sad episode; that Mayumi had done something to restore Lal to life definitely earned her many brownie points in my eyes – our current guest stated, "No doubt, when she first learned about you – she's not as empathic as I am – Mayumi-chan simply felt it right to come investigate and, if it became warranted, do something about it." "So why would she not direct her offer to Eimi directly?" I asked. "Because you're the person responsible for her safety, Doug-san," Kaori answered. I blinked several times, and then it hit me. Damn! "Right . . .!" "Um . . . can someone tell me what's going on here?" Eimi asked. Kaori sighed. "Eimi-san, before I answer that, could you answer this first: Do YOU want a physical body?" She pointed at Eimi's image. "Regardless of type – gynoid, cyberdroid or bioroid – that can be made, do you want one? Yes or no?" Eimi seemed to pause for a moment, and then she sighed. "I never really thought about it before, Kaori-san. My father – my creator, I mean – offered it to me before I met Doug for the first time, but I turned him down." A shrug. "Naoko-san was right. I am a little scared of the idea of living a different life than this." "Nothing wrong with that," Kaori commented. "But now that Mayumi-san brought it up . . . " Another shrug. "I might consider it." "Okay. Now, here comes the problem." She then winked at me. "Observe, Master Looney Tunes, how fast RUMINT can run on this ship!" As I laughed, Kaori shrugged. "We all knew what Mizuho-san was planning to offer you within about fifteen minutes of the end of your little cha no yu in the observation lounge." As I gaped – Wow! That is fast, especially considering Haida's size! – she gazed on Eimi. "No doubt, if Mizuho-san CAN get you both back to where you're going in one shot, that's great. If that can happen, Mayumi-chan could make you a new body and you're on your way. But . . . " "What happens if there's another 'stop' along the way," I concluded. "Oh . . .!" Eimi breathed out. "Right," Kaori drawled. "Since he took you on as his travelling companion, Doug-san – As he is a military policeman at heart as THIS girl's empathy can sense!" – She winked at me, which made me wonder if I could discover a song that could SHIELD my emotions from how sensitive these girls were! – " . . . ALSO took on the responsibility of making sure you would STAY SAFE so you can make it back to London with him whole and intact!" As Eimi nodded in understanding, the blonde apprentice cop – military police training was, as I had learned over the years, normally quite long – crossed her arms. "How will Mayumi-chan look at this?! As an interesting intellectual exercise!" "Damn! She IS Wile E. Coyote!" I declared. "Well, not as arrogant as THAT moron!" Kaori stated. "But she will not be deterred once you say 'yay' or 'nay' to her offer, Eimi-san. She WILL find a way to make sure you make it whole and complete to London with Doug-san. And still remain you!" Silence fell as my friend considered that, and then she sighed. "Can I think about it, Kaori-san?" Eimi then asked. "This is a lot to take." A smirk. "Take your time. You've got some." She gave me a questioning look, which I responded with a nod. "Anyhow, I'll look in on you two later. 'Night." And with that, she was off. I watched her go, and then relaxed, inwardly relieved that – despite their lack of practical life experiences – the Avalonians on Haida were clearly quite diverse enough in their knowledge that one could cover for another's mistake so that I didn't have to find some way to prevent a "cold war" between Eimi and Asai Mayumi. After a moment, Eimi then sighed. "Doug?" "Yeah, Eimi?" "They're really nice, aren't they?" A nod. "Yeah." * * * - Bob Schroeck - 07-02-2012 Pyeknu Wrote:By the by, Bob, how would Doug's powers react to In A Class of Her Own?that's a hard one, but barring more thought on the matter, I'd suggest that, on the Haida itself, it would allow him to manifest the ship's spirit. What form that would take, I'm not sure. Probably a seaman with an ever-changing face. -- Bob --------- Then the horns kicked in... ...and my shoes began to squeak. - Pyeknu - 07-02-2012 Or possibly the central sigil of her ship's crest: A two-headed thunderbird. Haida's crest can be seen here, BTW: http://hmcshaida.ca/hlogo1.html Which, bringing in the whole divine spirit concept that would apply in Haida's universe, would give the starship herself the protection of a being that is the North American native version of the phoenix. With an ATTITUDE! |