A Little Stagger Snippet

[Pyeknu]

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]

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]

Might be.  How would Doug react to something like the UNEDF in the year 2011?  Did I get it right?

[Pyeknu]

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?!"

*    *   
*

[Pyeknu]

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]

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]

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"...)

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

[Pyeknu]

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]

To Rob:  With your permission, I'd like to incorporate Doug's comment into the story.

Feel free!

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]

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.

[Pyeknu]

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]

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.

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]

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]

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!

[Pyeknu]

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)

[Bob Schroeck]

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]

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]

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 . . .

*    *   
*

[Pyeknu]

By the by, Bob, how would Doug's powers react to In A Class of Her Own?

[robkelk]

The final small part before crunch-time.

I've written complete stories that are longer than these "small parts"...

"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!"

"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]

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]

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

[Pyeknu]

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]

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]

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!