Foreword
This is the beginning of a series of short (blah, blah , blah). For
now it doesn't have any other anime shows in it, it just sets the
scene for the rest of the series.
I need experienced fanfic authors to look my stuff over and
give me some feedback, please email me directly if need be. All the
characters are mine (the brian daly (c) 1997) and others characters,
places, etc are owned by others. Oh and sorry for the weird format,
I'll see if I can fix it.
Timelords
Part 1: The Hunt Begins
The sweltering heat of a Houston night didn't phase the party goers
as they stumbled from club to club guided by the gaudy lights. The
whole scene had an aged feel with ancient trees lurching forth from
the sidewalks along the wide street in front of once proud homes that
now fall apart from neglect. Underneath the flickering light of a
street light was a dirty man buddled in ragged clothing. His old hat
hiding his long black greasy hair was nearly as dirty as his beard.
The filthy man took a few tries to bat away a few greasy strands of
hair from his face as the people passed by catching quick glimpses.
But the man didn't care as he just sat there, waiting patiently. The
drunkard's attention was drawn to a man dressed in a white wool
jacket and creased trousers;
"Eeex-cuish me. Could yoou give a' down
man a donashin?" the drunkard slurred as he got right in the well
dressed man's face.
"Why would I give you crap?" the man made a sour
face as he smelled the drunkard's rotten breath.
"Pleasish?" the
drunkard's face softened and tried to plead his case further.
"Whatever." the well dressed man pushed the drunkard out of his way
roughly as he made his way to the night club just down the block.
As the man turned his back and readjusted his white jacket, the demeanor
of the drunkard changed from slouched to rigid as he growled soberly
under his breath towards the man walking away.
"I said please."
The man's eyes opened up as he heard this, he knew he was caught. As the
man in the white jacket reached inside his jacket to get his gun, the
drunkard tackled him making the gun fly out of his hand. The man in
the jacket was on his back and could see the determined face of the
drunkard on top of him which could only mean he was in trouble. The
crowds of people in the streets made way for the two combatants as
they went flying around and through the streets crashing into
anything in the way as the drunkard laid down hard punches to the
other.
"Someone call the police! He's going to kill him!" someone
yelled. It didn't matter as the man in the ragged clothes tossed the
other through a fence into a backyard. There the fight continued.
Through a cracked window, nothing much could be seen except the
silhouette of an obese man dressed in just his underwear and T-shirt
was engrossed in the program on his TV as he squirmed in the
comforting arms of his lazyboy chair. A loud crash from his backyard
made the man pause. He looked for its source from the safety of his
chair when he heard another crash making the fat man jump
involuntarily. The cursing of two men near by forced the terrified
fat man to go investigate. As the fat man reluctantly arose from
his chair, two men busted through the wall to his left and landed
directly between him and the TV. A man with long black hair had just
pinned down a beaten man in a torn white jacket and had just grabbed
the collar of the white jacket. The fat man could see the reflection
of a long thick blade on the right hand of the black haired man that
was position to strike.
"ARRGGHHHH!" the man on top screamed in
anger as they were engulfed in a bright light and disappeared before
the blade could strike. The fat man just stared at the rumble on his
living room floor, the only evidence left of the two intruders as the
sounds of ambulances and a panicked crowd nearby are drowned out by
the TV blurting out old jokes and pre-recorded laughs.
The wind blowing through the sagebrush and cactus needles was the
only thing that broke the silence of the desert. The heat of the sun
beat down upon the out cropping of cliffs, big jagged hills, and
plateaus scattered through the country side. A gleam of light
appeared over the summit on one of the plateaus which expanded and
grew brighter. It kept growing until two men emerged on the edge
struggling with each other. The light dissipated to reveal a man
with black hair on top of another with a torn up white jacket. The
black haired man was in the motion of striking his victim underneath
him with a silver blade that melted into his right arm. The man
below rolled a little evading the strike making the blade imbed
itself in the rock of the plateau. The black haired man lost his
balance and fell off the edge. The black haired hung from his bladed
hand awkwardly and moved to face the edge as best as he could. The
man in the tattered jacket got up and looks down at the struggling
man trying to get up.
"How dare you try to kill me! Damn timelords!
Well you know you can't win, the Society is now the new order." the
man screams were echoed through the empty space around him as the
black haired tried to pull himself up.
"Oh really, Fitsroy? Not if I
have a say in this." the black haired man spat out as he tried
valiantly to pull himself.
"You've been following me? Hee, well
that's as good excuse as any to kill you. I value my privacy, you
know. I guess I can now brag I killed a timelord to the my Society
brotheren." the man said as he tried to kick the blade loose from
the rock.
Suddenly the black haired man saw an opportunity and
grabbed the other man's foot and used it to hold himself for a moment
as the his bladed hand melted into a claw. Letting go of the other
man's foot and dug the claw into the edge of the rock. Fitsroy fell
backwards and the black haired man pulled himself up onto the
plateau's summit. The man on the ground tried to get up but the
black haired man quickly put him back down with a bareknuckled punch
to his face. He immediately pounced upon Fitsroy and brought the
silver claw to his face.
"Now tell me who your leader is!" the black
haired man demanded.
"No I won't tell you crap!" Fitsroy shouted
back nervously.
"You don't and I'll kill you right now, ya bastard!"
the claw was being brought closer to Fitsroy's face.
Fitsroy now started to sweat a little looking nervously at the claw just a few
centimeters from his face,
"Ok! I don't know much," the claw was
advanced further and Fitsroy cringed, "All I know is my superior's a
woman."
The black haired man put the sharp tips of the claw right on
Fitsroy's trembling face, "A name. I need a name!"
"It's Xendyte!" Fitsroy screamed in agony as he felt the tips start to puncture his
skin.
"Good now we're on a roll. Who's your leader?" the silver
claw pushed in a little deeper.
"I swear I don't know. All I know is
Xendyte is my superior!" tears streamed down from his face as he
felt the claw dig deeper into his face.
The black haired man raised
his claw above his head away from the other's face, "Thanks."
With that the black haired man quickly brought down the claw into
Fitsroy's face with a low thud, before he could make a sound.
"Thank you very much." said the black haired man as he cleaned the
silverish red liquid off his claw on the deceased Fitsroy's white
jacket.
The black haired man looked around at the mountainous desert
from the view atop the plateau. The black haired man signed as he
idly brushed away a lock of his hair from his face. He looked down at
his wrist and pressed a button on a device that looked similar to a
watch. The result was a blank screen appearing in front of the man
awaiting his commands.
"To the members of the Counsule from timelord
Tracer," the black haired man smirked as his dictated words would
appear on the screen, "I have some new information concerning the
Society."
Timelords
Part 2: The Drone and the Mystery
Tracer made his way through the clear and clean streets of his home,
the Community. The wind picked up a little as he passed an alleyway
and he brushed his hand through his rather long jet black hair idly.
Tracer loved this place with its white almost glowing walls. Not
much color to the place but the intensity of white from the
rectangular buildings made him feel warm, which was a feeling he
didn't get very much anymore. Tracer was making his way to the
Counsule's building, the center of this Community. The Counsule's
building was one of the few non-rectangular buildings around, the
building was more of a dome surrounded by four cone-like structures
that was at each corner of the square that the building rested. The
square opened to four main roads on each side and a web of alleyways
branched from that. Tracer always remembered the story behind the
Community, it was one of the few things he remembered from his formal
education of history. The Community was a symbol of the beliefs of
one being's push for order in the anarchy that followed the Genisis
Accident, an accident that had many lasting effects. At the time of
the Genisis Accident his race was very technologically advanced and
had prospered greatly. They were toying with the secrets of universe
when this accident ripped a hole through space and time desimating
most of the population and bestowed the survivors with the ability to
time travel. Yet most of the survivors died because their blood had
turned slowly to mercury, a lethal element to his race, but
fortunately one man had saved them from total elimination. That man
was known by many nicknames, but the most commonly used name was
Overlord. He pioneered the biotechnology that used the mercury as
fuel and could be intergrated into their living tissue. Thus people
lived on and made Overlord their savior, and became infamous in his
people's history. Some say that Overlord's spirit still can be felt
around in the Community. They were people dedicated to helping each
other and living peacefully calling themselves the Community. That
was until the Great War came. The Nomads, people who refused to join
the Community, invaded to gain the biotechnology, the Community's
secret for surviving the mercury poisoning of their bodies. Tracer
didn't know much about it because it happened just before he was
born, but he did know that it had many traveller casualties and the
lives in the dimesions involved were forever scarred. The effects of
this war were so devastating, the Counsule made the Passive Travel
Decree. This decree declared that no time traveller could be outside
the Community, and the Temporal Flux Network (TFN) over the Community
kept track of the comings and goings of any from the Community. If a
traveller was caught outside the Community by a timelord they were
executed, or even worse excommunicated. Being excommunicated was
worst than death because one would never again be able to gain access
to the Community and leaving them to the wrath of the Nomads. The
only legal way out of the Community was to gain enough credits, and
when a traveller was out in the time stream involvement was suppose
to be kept at a minimum. The credits were earned by doing
specialized skilled service for the Community. Any level of skill
could earn credits but inovators and engineers were more highly
valued. Unfortunately it had one major down fall in that if someone
was skilled in an area already flooded the person wouldn't be able to
earn enough credits to leave, making the Community their prison.
After the Great War peace returned when the Society reared its ugly
head. Tracer paused in the middle of the path and closed his eyes,
he really disliked them and what they stood for. The Society were
the coming sign of chaos that would ruin his peaceful world. They
were dishonorable and mysterious, it was his job to get all the
information he could and eliminate them. Tracer then resumed his way
to the Counsule building as he opened his eyes with a renewed vigor
in his step. That was his duty bestowed upon him by the Counsule as
a timelord. Very little was known of this Society except they were
created sometime just after the Great War and that they were planning
a rebellion. The Counsule depended on the timelords to get more
information on this very ellusive Society. Timelords were well
trained and cunning soldiers. Tracer, of course, was the most
effective timelord out there, reckless at times, but the ends
justified the means. He was the first to learn that the leader of
this Society was an ex-general from the Great War, and that they were
planning something big. Now he had a name of a higher officer,
Xendyte. Tracer approached the square where the Counsule building
sat. Tracer passed between the two cone structures on either side of
him finally reaching the blank wall of the domed structure. A flat
screen appeared on the blank wall with the image of a face studying
the intruder standing before it.
"Identification number and rank please." the gruff image of the AI barked out irritated over the com
link.
"10578, Timelord class." Tracer said relaxed and confident.
The manner of the face changed, "Oh sorry, um, Tracer. The Counsule
has been expecting you."
With that an outline of a door frame
appeared and opened to reveal a hall. The hall had a low arched
ceiling and went for about 20 feet where it forked. Tracer took the
one that went right and passed through a series sensors that covered
every angle possible in the bowels of the building. It feed into the
highly advanced Artificial Inteligence (AI) defense system that had
eyes in every room. It was alerted to everyone's presence in the
building and the AI could actually morph the halls to trap any
intruders and dispatch guards to the area. Such precautions were
taken for two reasons; first of all the Counsule ran all it's
operartions out of here; and second they have living quaters located
here also. Tracer kept walking till the hall opened up to the large
main wall where two lagre guards stood guard while the Counsule was
in session. Tracer looked at them both addressing them accordingly,
"Hey it's Curly and Moe." Tracer said slyly.
He had just come from the 20th century and was presuming they
wouldn't know what he meant.
Apparently a loud disaproving grunt from the large guard on his right
proved his assumtion wrong. Tracer looked at them both a little
embarrassed but kept his cool.
"Anyway the Counsule wanted to see
me," a moment of silience, "um, I'm the timelord Tracer, 10578?"
The two guards slowly moved and a huge door frame appeared and opened to
the brightly lit Counsule's Chambers. Tracer walked towards the
court infront of a panel in raised seats where five old people in
brillant white robes were waiting. The seats had different levels of
height like a pyramid, with the two outside being the lowest and the
one in the middle being the highest. The highest raised seat was
where the head elder of the Counsule sat. The head elder looked at
Tracer inquizitively and stared at him for a moment and addressed
him. "Well Tracer we hear you have an update on the Society
situation." said the head elder in a distracted tone.
"Yes I have come closer to identifying the leader." Tracer informed in a
dignified soldier manner.
"And what is it you have?" said the high
elder.
"Well I have a name of a superior officer." Tracer said
letting his dignified manner disguise his enjoyment in antagonizing
the head elder.
"And that name." the elder was starting to sound a
little irritated.
"Xendyte. I haven't had a chance to look into her
profile yet." Tracer noticed the elder flinch a little when he
mentioned her name.
"Very well, go and look into this and report as
soon as you get more information." the elder looked rather nervous as
he said this leaving an odd pause.
"If you will excuse me but I was
wondering if you could tell about my father. I was just wondering if
anything new has come out about him?" Tracer asked humbly.
The elder looked relieved at the change of subject and addressed it sincerely,
"Well, you're father hasn't been found yet, is that right Naes?"
The elder to his left side nodded and said in an official tone, "Yes that
is correct head elder Nairb. Nothing more has surfaced about
Trekker."
The head elder turned back to Tracer, "You have to remember
you're father was an ex-general in the Great War. Maybe he had some
bad memories return after your birth and had to go somewhere to get
himself together. But your poor mother though was too heartbroken to
believe that he could do such a thing. That also could explain her
shortened life."
A disheartened Tracer averted the eyes of the
Counsule, he wasn't one to remember the past. Nairb immediately
noticed Tracer's sudden change of mood, "But let's not bring up old
dirt like this, he was a great ex-general in the war and be proud of
that."
Tracer now looked into the eyes of the head elder again with
determination burning in his soul. He was going to find this
ex-general that lead this bedamned Society, and make him pay for all
he had done.
Tracer left the Counsule Building to where many open air shops that
bartered and sold food, weapons, books, and other odd objects lay
along the main road that Tracer was walking down. Many shop owners
yelled sell pitches from the windows of their shops to passers by.
Tracer came along to a familiar shop down the road and
entered. The inside of the shop was adorn with trinkets, weapons,
and dusty books. Tracer looked around till he saw an old man with a
thin white goatee with even whiter hair greet him; "Oh hello Tracer
I've been expecting you." the old man smiled playfully.
"You say that everytime I come in here, Briar." Tracer smiled back, the shop
keeper was one of the only non-timelord associate he knew. He was
the one who helped him with a few of his problems with his 'special'
AI he had. Plus he always gave Tracer great bargins on weapons.
Briar was one of the very select few who he trusted for help.
"So you have anything worth speaking about?" Tracer asked leisurely.
"Since you asked, I'm going on a salvage run. I could get you a few rare
manuals on various weapons, machines," the old man smiled, "And free
thinking AIs."
Tracer gave the old man a rather scolding look as he
responded, "What's wrong with you? Don't you know those things are
illegal for you to sell."
"Oh right, you're a timelord. Have to up hold the law." the old man's smiling
face then changed to a solemn expression, "Considering your reputation as a
highly regarded timelord I wanted you to do something for me."
The old man once again turned around and rumaged through some items
out of Tracer's sight.
The old man turned around to offer Tracer a long object covered in
rags. Tracer pulled back some of the rags to reveal a wooden hilt.
Once Tracer touched the hilt he immediately felt a sense of being
with one with the sword. It flooded his senses with something he
hadn't felt before. He couldn't quite indentify it but it felt. . .
good. Tracer recovered from this new feeling and turned to the old
man once more who was smiling abroad.
"What is this?" Tracer
questioned in wonderment.
"Something wonderful." the old man gave
Tracer a knowing look, "It's something that I want you take care of
for me while go on a salvage run."
"Man how ever did I meet you?"
Tracer smiled at Briar holding the hilt as Briar ushered him towards
the door. "Maybe it's the spirit or good fortune of Overlord?"
With that Briar gestured the half dazed Tracer out the doorway. The
shutting door finally brought Tracer back to reality. Tracer
blinked, taking a moment to ponder what had just transgressed, before
he excitedly pulled the rags off the concealed object. It had a sharp
smooth crystal blade, until it flowered out near the hilt. The hilt
seemed to be made of some sort of highly polished wood with three red
jewels inbedded in it. One jewel was in one side of the hilt and
another directly opposite of the other while the third was dead
center in the hilt's handle. The strangest quality about the sword
was it had a soft glow.
'Odd, very odd.' he thought.
Tracer now in reflection now had mixed feelings about this sword.
'Could the side effects to these feelings be deadly?' he reasoned in his mind
further.
'Just trust your true feelings about the sword Tracer.' a
voice echoed in his head.
Tracer shook his head in puzzlement and
gazed at the sword in his hands. What were his feelings deep down
inside about this object? They seemed comforting and whole.
'So then what was stopping me from trusting them.' Tracer thought.
Tracer left the shop with his new sword hanging on his hip as made
his way to the Timelord Complex. The complex, obvious enough, housed
timelords while they weren't patroling, but Tracer would much prefer
patroling than the complex. Tracer frowned as he passed the dirty
and cheaply built walls of the complex when finally reached a section
of familiar blank wall. Tracer put his hand on a certain location
and waited a few seconds for the computer to varify it was him.
Suddenly an outline of a door appeared and opened to let him in.
Tracer's quaters were rather small, but Tracer didn't mind it too
much because he travelled light anyway. He had a window in which one
of the cone structures from the square could be seen. Tracer looked
around in the dim room and commanded, "Room turn on luminescents in
panels c-3 and c-4."
With that command two panels in the ceiling
started to make a floresent glow. Tracer looked up displeased for a
moment at the lighting.
"Who is the damn fool who sets these things,"
Tracer mumbled to himself, "Room, put light in default intensity."
With that the light became more of a natural glow. Tracer signed
with satisfation and sat down at his antigrav chair that hovered a
foot off the floor. In front of him was a streamline desk with a few
objects sitting on it and picked up a small, thin device with various
colored buttons on it from amongst the objects. Tracer pushed one
near the bottom and a screen appeared over the desk. The screen
glowed independent of any device and awaited its owner's orders.
"Hello and how was your day, Tracer." a voice from somewhere near
the screen came, it was Tracer's personal AI, Avex.
Everyone of the timelords had an AI, but they were the more common variety than the
newer complicated AI in the Counsule Building. Tracer's AI was
different because he 'salvaged' it from an abandoned space ship that
he found on one of his patrols. It could talk back and think rather
independently, unlike the issued AIs from the Counsule.
Tracer signed and answered the screen, "Well, Avex, I killed one of those bastards,
I met the Counsule, met a with a friend, and got a nice looking
sword."
"When you say 'one of those bastards' you mean a Society
member." the voice questioned innocently.
"Of course. Anyway enough
of the chat, Avex, I need all the files on a person named Xendyte
from the archives."
Tracer said as he leaned back in his floating
chair and relaxed. A few moments later the voice interrupted
Tracer's peaceful moment.
"Here's the infomation." the voice said
confidently.
"Uh-huh." Tracer said as he looked at the screen which
had writing and pictures on it. Tracer read all of her bio hoping to
find something that would connect her to the Society, who she knew,
what she learned, her likes and dislikes, anything. After reading
some he learned she was from a prosperous family, her father excelled
at biological engineering, she attended the best education centers
that any of the dimesions could offer, she excelled and had a liking
for time stream history, and she was dead.
"Wait a minute." he
mumured to himself as he leaned in further investigating the
information of the screen. He studied that part of her life closer.
Tracer touched the screen and it popped up the information of
Xendyte's death. It seemed her family was attacked by a band of
Nomads while travelling to another time. Everyone was slaughtered.
"Avex was Xendyte's death confirmed? Did they have an identifiable
body?" Tracer asked his AI.
"Yes." it responded quickly.
Tracer didn't feel right about the whole thing, there was more to this than
meets the eye. Finally Tracer popped up Xendyte's image. The image
he got was of her in her youth, about mid-adolescents, she had blonde
hair, dark blue eyes, looked exceptionally pretty for a young girl.
Tracer looked at her image for a moment and got an idea.
"Avex age her image to about my physical age." Tracer ordered. The picture was
morphed and when it finished Tracer was taken back.
The newly transformed image was of a stunning woman, to say the least. Her
eyes were opened very wide and her blue eyes glowed. Her hair stayed
short but still he thought that all together she looked striking
good. She looked as if she had a playful and friendly expression on
her face. Of course there was no telling what other outside factors
had changed her.
'The last thing I need is an infactuaion with a dead woman.' Tracer thought
as he pondered further, 'or supposedly dead, I mean there has to be more
info out there, but Avex is very thorough in its searches.'
Then Tracer remembered one of his fellow timelords saying he found a
restricted archive. Of course Tracer didn't think much of it at the time,
reasoning it as just a little bit of sensitive information about everyone.
Now things didn't feel right.
'I guess its time to give my friend Giro a call.'
Ok this is the first 2 parts, I'm hoping there will 6 parts to this.
Comments of any kind will do, thanks!!!
the brian