The REAL Chapter five.......
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Bubble Gum Crisis is copyrighted Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc.
Highlander, the specific concepts of Immortality, the characters
of Duncan MacLeod, Amanda, Joe Dawson, and the Hunters are the
property of Rysher Entertainment. I am just borrowing the characters
for a little while, and promise not to bend, fold, or staple them
- unless I can come up with a good reason to do so. I can be
contacted at the Email address above. C&C will be accepted, out
and out flames will result in a Boomer or two being sent
after you.
Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe.....
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Chapter 4
Sylia's Apartment
District 2
April 10, 2036
6:08am
...The light in the area was indifferent at best, most of
the lamposts being without power, lightbulbs, or the inside
wiring. there were very few cars, older models for the most part,
parked along the street. The street was deserted, and the only
sounds beside her footfalls were distant and without definition.
But something gnawed at her, and she stopped, and survayed the
area around her. Something was wrong, her instincts cried. But
what?
She reached into her coat for the large semi automatic
pistol she had just started carrying, when she heard the sounds
of shots, muffled by the buildings around her. A long, high
pitched, ripping sound of at least two machine guns, punctuated
with the thudering booms of a heavy caliber of a pistol. They
were coming from the poolhall, and the glass in the Niko's front
door shattered as a wild shot passed through it.
<Fargo! He's in trouble!> She spun, the pistol out and
ready to fire once a target presented itself. When none did, she
started back towards the poolhall at an uneasy jog.
She'd covered half the distance to the damaged door when an
amplified electronic voice shouted "SYLIA! TWO HOSTILES AT SEVEN
O'CLOCK, ADVANCING ON YOUR POSITON!"
Without thought, she turned and started tracking the closer
of the two figures running towards her. They had appeared from an
alley half a block down the street, and in the dim light, all
Sylia could make out was they both male, wore the worn clothing
of street people, and carried assault rifles.
<The N-Police on some type of raid?> she thought. <Where
are the sirens, and the uniformed officers?>
"AD Police!" she yelled at them. "Identify yourself!"
The nearer figure stopped fifty meters away, snapped the
assault rifle he carried to his shoulder and opened fire. The
muzzle vomited flame, and a high pitched ripping sound started.
<Damm! That answers my question!> Sylia dropped to one
knee and fired twice, the flat crack of her pistol startling in
the once silent night. Her target folded over and collasped, the
rifle falling out of his hand and clattering on the street....
The sound of something loud snapped Sylia out of her sleep.
She sat up quickly, her breath coming in quick ragged breaths. It
took her several seconds to remember the dream, and she closed
her eyes. <Damm! Not again!> The event had happened nearly five
months ago, and it still haunted her, like a angry spector,
robbing her of sleep.
The banging on her front door alerted her that something was
wrong in the real world. She opened her eyes, and glaned at the
clock on the table next to her bed. Frowing at the display of
time, she looked in the direction of the apartment's front door
in puzzlement. <Who the hell wants to see me this early?>
She got out of bed, and wraped herself in a thick robe. She
hesitated for a second, then pulled open the nightstand's drawer
and carefully pulled out the automatic she'd used five months
ago. A swift double check of the magazine, then a quick pulling
back of the pistol's slide, and she was ready.
She walked slowly to the apartment's front door, holding the
pistol along her side. She glanced at the security monitor
located near the front door. Priss was standing there, one arm
suporting another woman around the waist, while ponding on
Sylia's front door with the other.
Sylia pocketed the gun, glided to the front door, unlocked
it, and stepped back to allow Priss to assist her companion into
the apartment. Priss look of irritation at Sylia curtailed any
questions, so Sylia closed and locked the front door again before
helping Priss carry the woman over to the couch. As they laid the
woman out on the couch, Sylia noticed the bloodstained blouse for
the first time. She glanced up at Priss.
Priss shook her head. "I don't think it's hers. Not that much
blood."
Sylia quickly examined the woman, and found that with the
exception of shock and chill, the woman seemed to be all right.
She covered the woman with a thick blanket, then motioned to
Priss towards the kitchen. Once there, Sylia filled the coffee
machine. "What happened?" she asked, turning the coffee maker on.
Priss explain the chance meeting on the Badlands, and how
the woman had pleaded not to be taken to the hospital. "She said
something about being found and being killed again if I took her
to a hospital."
"Did she give you a name?"
Priss nodded. "Natalia Korsgaard."
"Did she say why she was out there?"
"No."
Sylia removed three cups from an overhead cabnet. "Are you
sure she's human?"
"I'm sure."
"Did she say anything else?"
Priss was silent for a minute, then said, "She said
something about having to reach holy ground."
Sylia looked at her. "Holy Ground? Did she say what Holy
Ground?"
"No."
"Can you remeber anything else that happened when this woman
approched you?"
"Maybe." Priss looked uncertain. "When I stopped to find out
what was going on, I thought I heard...what sounded like a
swordfight in the distance."
"A swordfight?"
"Or someone banging two metal rods together in an erratic
manner. I'm not sure, and I didn't want to hang around and find
out."
Sylia nodded, and poured two cups of coffee. She handed one
to Priss. "I'll have Nene run a background check on Natalia
Korsgaard, and see what turns up. In the meantime, we'll put her
into Mackie's room and let her sleep for a while. I'll warn Nene
and Linna to stay away for now, until we know more."
"Fair enough." Priss sipped her coffee. "I'll crash here for
a couple of hours, then go back to my place."
"Let's get our visitor tucked in, then I'll call Nene."
********** ********** **********
MegaTokyo Grand Hotel
April 10, 2036
7:49am
Ducan tipped the human bellhop generously, then tossed both
bags onto the bed. He pulled a small monitor and scanned the room
for listening devices. After a though survey of the hotel suite,
he said to Amanda, "The room's clean."
When she had entered the suite, Amanda had at once gone to
the window. She stood there, smiling at the view that spread out
before here. "I can't believe how large this city has become in
only five hundred years."
"Oh?"
"I can remember when this place was nothing more then two
dozen huts huddled near the banks of a river."
"A bit before my time," he said diplomaticly. "What were you
doing here at the time?"
She turned and smiled at him. "I was seeing what the world
had to offer then."
"In transportable wealth?"
She turned and pouted at him. "It wasn't like that."
"Of course not. You always visit poor, out of the way places
just for the fun of it."
She came over to him, and put her arms around his neck, and
said in a husky voice, "I could say that I wanted to check the
rumor that the shogun had a sword made of pure gold."
He looked down at her, and smiled. "That's more like it. Did
he have such a sword?"
She shrugged. "It was only gold plated, and not really worth
the effort to steal it."
"You mean it wasn't worth loosing your head over. I know
what the penalty was for a theft like that in those times."
She sighed deeply. "You take the fun out of my stories."
"Just bringing them into some senblence of reality." He
untangled himself from her arms and went over to the window. He
placed a small box, about the size of a fingernail, against the
top right corner of the window. He then stood there and admired
the view.
Amanda flopped onto the bed and laid there, savering the
comfort. "What did Joe want?"
Ducan turned to look at her. "What?"
"What did Joe call you on the plane about?"
"How did you know he'd called me?"
She sat up and looked at him in disapointment. "When you
were asleep, I asked the flight attendent."
"Oh." He turned and looked out the window again.
"Macleod, what's wrong?"
He couldn't look at her. "The Hunters are back."
"Are you sure?" she asked quietly, the warm feeling in the
room disapating quickly.
"That's what Joe called about. An old friend of his pass
along word that Master Lee Chang's Monastery was attacked last
week, and most of the Imortals studying there were killed."
Amanda climbed off the bed slowly, her face showing shock.
"All of them?"
"All except one. Jason Storm was away when the monastery was
attacked. He's here in MegaTokyo right now, tracking the
Hunters."
"I don't know him."
"I do. Storm doesn't undertake vengeance lightly. He'll
either wipe out the Hunters, or they'll get him."
Amanda's brows furred in puzlement. "But wasn't Master Chang
like Darius? From what I've heard over the years, he was a holy
man."
Ducan shook his head. "Master Chang was a warrior, first and
formost. He spent most of his life either on the battlefield, or
in the monastery. Yes, he taught peace and harmony like Darius
did. But he also taught his students to be warriors, and to
survive as Immortals."
"And Storm?"
Ducan smiled thinly. "Jason Storm is probably the best
student Master Chang ever taught."
"Is he that good a fighter?"
"Both with a sword, and without. He's spent most of the last
hundred years either at Master Chang monastery, or serving in
Special Forces units across the western world. He could
conceivably destroy the Hunters all by himself."
"So why is he here?"
"The Hunters used Boomers in the raid against the
Monastery."
Amanda's mouth tightened. "And he's here because he has
evidence the Boomers came from here."
"That's what Joe told me."
"And we're going to look for him?"
"Not unless the Hunters come after us, or we stumbled across
Storm."
She smiled lazyly at him. "Liar," she said. "So, what are we
really going to do?"
Ducan turned and smiled back at her. "For now, we get some
rest. Later, I'll check some sources, then we'll do some
shopping."
"Does it have to be total rest?" she asked huskly.
********** ********** **********
Jason's Safehouse
District 5
April 10, 2036
9:28am
Jason opened his eyes slowly, and stared at the ceiling for
several seconds. He closed his eyes again, and took a deep
breath. Here goes nothing.
Slowly, He raised his left arm until it was perpendicular to
his body. He made a fist, open the hand, then made another fist.
It felt stiff, but there no pain.
Satified his arm was healed, he slowly sat up. The areas
where he had been serious burnt were now fully recovered. He
tested his limbs carefully before he slid out of bed and walked
slowly over to the kitchen area of his safehouse.
His safehouse was the top floor of a small three story
warehouse not far from the University of MegaToyko main campus.
With the help of an account Master Chang had set up for him,
Jason had purchased the werehouse and the surrounding grounds
several years ago. With it's location known only to Jason
himself, it was the perfect place for him to hide and rest while
he planed his next move.
The third floor was twenty meters wide, thirty meters long,
with a line of pillers running down the middle that seperated the
room. Half a dozen small windows ran the lenght of each longer
walls. One half of the room was empty. The other side had only a
bed against one wall, a small open kitchen area in one corner, a
bathroom in the other corner, and several chairs and a single
sofa clustered the space between the bed and the kitchen. Jason
didn't mind the lack of creature comforts. He had spent most of
his Immortal life at the Monastery - where this would have been
considered soft living.
He prepared a small meal for himself, and ate in silence.
After he cleaned up breakfast, he changed into a pair of loose
fitting pants. Picking up his sheathed sword, he strode over to
the empty part of the room. He sat crossed legged in the middle
of the floor, placed the sword on his lap, and meditated for
fifteen minutes.
As he meditated, his thoughts drifted back to the monestary
and Master Chang....
KOREA, 1882
Jason found the master in the small garden located behind
the main temple. The older Immortal was on his knees, genly
weeding a patch of brightly colored flowers. He was shorter then
Jason, and wirery. His iron grey hair was cut close to his scalp,
and a long whispery mustache hung below his chin.
"You wish to speak to me, Jason?" he asked in Korean,
without looking up from his work.
Jason, use to the Master's abilities, replied quietly, "Yes,
Master. I would like to ask you a question, if I could."
Master Chang streighten, and without effort, rose to his
feet. He turned and smiled at Jason. "And your question?"
Jason took a deep breath. "I have been here for over fifteen
years. I have trained very hard, and have not questioned anything
you have asked of me."
"True."
Embolden by his master's intrest, Jason continued. "One day,
I want to go beyond the walls of this monestary, and see how the
world has changed."
"If you wish to leave, I will not stop you."
Jason shook his head. "Not now. Sometime in the future."
"What is really on your mind?" asked Chang. "You wish to ask
something, but you do not wish to offend me, correct?"
Jason took another deep breath. "You can always read me,
can't you?"
Chang smiled "I have a thousand years of experence, Jason."
He looked directly into Jason's eyes. "I see the question you
wish to ask. Why have I not taught you how to use a sword,
correct?"
"Yes Master."
"Very well." Without changing expression, the older Immortal
fired a hard kick at Jason's solor plexes. Jason spun away, and
came to a stop several feet away, in a fighting stance. Before
Jason could say anything, Chang launched a series of kicks and
hard strikes. Jason blocked or avoided all of the attacks, but
couldn't counter against the Master's attack. Finally, a hard
side kick blasted through Jason's guard, and slammed into his
sternum.
Jason felt his bones break under the terrific impact, and he
was flung back several feet. He landed heavily, the force
knocking the breath from his lungs. He blacked out.
He came out of the blackness with Master Chang leaning over
him, his face impassive. "How do you feel?" the older Immortal
asked.
Jason got up slowly, holding his sternum. "Lousey."
"It will pass. We will begin your training with the sword
tomorrow."
Jason looked up at Master Chang, puzzled. "What?"
The Master smiled. "Before I could teach you how to use a
tool such as a sword, we must teach you how to use your body." He
tapped his chest. "Your mind," he continued, tapping his head.
"And your sprit." He reached down and pulled Jason to his feet.
"You just now demonstrated that you have learned to use all three
well."
"But you beat me."
The Master looked at him carefully. "Of course. In skill, I
will always be better, because I have trained longer then you.
But you showed that you could hold you own against me, for a
little while. Which means there are few people out there that can
beat you, if you fight as hard as you did just now."
"I think I understand."
The Master smiled. "Your body, your mind, and your sprit.
Unlike a sword, they are weapons that can never be taken from
you. Always remember that...."
PRESENT
After meditating, he stood, leaving the sword on the floor
beside him, and stretched slowly. It took him awhile to work all
of the stiffness in his muscles out, but he didn't hurry. He knew
his routine, and knew his pace.
After the stretching came kicking exercises, followed by a
series of punching drills. He then moved into empty handed forms,
pausing at the end of each form only long enough to set himself
up for the next one. In each form, he flowed from one move to the
next with the smoothness and grace that comes from continual
practice. As he continued, the forms became more advanced, the
blocks and strikes more focused.
By the time he reached for the sword, a thin film of sweat
covered his body. He closed his eyes and drew the sword from it's
scabbard slowly. After carefully placing the scabbard on the
floor, he stepped back and opened his eyes.
He started working his way through the sword forms with the
same preciseness he'd had in the empty hand forms. Slashes,
thrusts, blocks, and cuts flowed from one to the next, each
executed without apparent flaw. As with the empty handed forms,
the sword forms became more complex and each move more important
then the last.
When he finished the last form, he relaxed, retreived the
scabbard from the floor, and sheathed the sword. He left the
sword on the bed while he took a quick shower. After the shower,
he came out and fetched box that held the items he used for sword
cleaning from the closet. He sat on the bed, and gently pulled
the sword free of the scabbard. Slowly and carefully, he examined
the sword's edge for any nicks or abrasions. Finding none, he
cleaned and polished the sword with the same care and attention
to detail he'd used when performing the forms. When he finished,
he returned the sword to its scabbard.
He dressed quickly in a thick T-shirt, blue jeans, and thick
soled, steel toed boots. He doubled checked the revolver he'd
used the night before placing it into a holster he was wearing
against the small of his back. Two knives were also checked and
placed into sheaths, one on his left forearm, the other in his
right boot. Finally, he carefully put on a light brown overcoat
and secured his sword in the specially made holder inside the
coat. He made several test draws of the sword before he was
satified with the results.
The last item he picked up was a small receiver unit that
fit easily in the palm of his hand. He turned it on, and was
rewarded with a faint beep. He nodded slowly. The Hunters would
have to wait. He had an Immortal to find before Marder did....