Well, as I said in the letter prefacing chapter 1, this story
isn't quite new, yet it isn't quite a repost either. The first 2 chapters
have been to RAAC, and are on Barry Cadwgan's web page. The third wasn't
been seen at all, until now. This is one of my slower going fics, and
unlike Tangled Skeins, is chopped up into chapters. So.. if anti-otaku
self-insertion fics where the hero regularly gets the snot beaten out of
himself don't appeal to you, feel free to skip this.
If you like dark humor? Then read on. Jeanne Hedge, Bert Van
Vliet, Darren Steffler, John 'Firehawke' Peasely, and several others
insist on telling me that I do good prose, and excellent dark humor.
*shrug* What do they know, anyway?
Anyway, if you read it, have fun, and don't take it too seriously.
Ed Becerra
"Dreamers may die, but the dream is eternal..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, here we go again...
Ed Becerra coming at you with another fan fic (of sorts!)
It's the grand and glorious start of Chapter 2 of "Legion's Quest 2"!
(Yeah, I know. Sounds real pompous, eh?)
As always, my thanks to:
My first fans, Dieter Hirsbrunner (drh@cherry-semi.com), Bree Duffy
(bree.duffy@chemek.com), Calvin T. Ellison (Zwiak@ix.netcom.com),
Louis-Philippe "Phoenix" Giroux (mgiroux@upc.qc.ca) and Kevin Eav
(geist@holly.colostate.edu) who sent me my first fan letters and some
greatly needed words of encouragement. I'm very grateful. Thanks, guys.
Darren Steffler, Chris Schumacher, and Bert Van Vliet. Their works
introduced me to fan fiction. I owe you guys.
And always to the UF gang. MegaZone, Gryphon, ReRob, PCHammer, Chris,
Adam, Larry Mann and 'Doc Mui. Thank you all.
Enjoy the show.
Fortuna bless...
***********************************
"Nobody here but us folk heroes...."
- Doonesbury
"Did that hurt? It looked _real_ painful."
- Eddie Murphy, "48 Hours"
* * *
In the reality of "Dominion Tank Police":
Underneath the rubble of a jazz bar and restaurant was a _really_ irate
customer. Fortunately for the people cleaning up the rubble, he was buried
deep enough that they couldn't hear what he was saying.
After a while, Ed ran out of unusual languages to swear in, and he took a
look around. Or tried to, anyway.
*Jesus X. Bushmaster! This is HEAVY! How much damn rubble landed on me
anyway? I can't even turn my head! Waitaminute... I'm buried alive!*
He panicked for several moments, then calmed when he realized that being
buried alive didn't seem to be making much of a difference. Once calm, he
called out.
"Hey! Anyone there? Can anybody hear me?"
{I can, lover,} buzzed a quiet voice in his ear. {Don't worry. There are
rescue workers going through the wreckage. They don't really expect to find
anyone alive, though. You're going to give them a _big_ surprise, boss.}
{Minerva!} He sighed in relief. {Girl, you damn near gave me a heart
attack! But it's good to hear you. What the hell happened? Why can't I get
this junk off of me?}
{Well, first, you're not in any life-threatening danger.}
{Okay, I'll buy that. What's second?}
{After the lunatic in the micro-tank blasted through the bar, a few stray
shots hit the base of a near-by office building.}
{You mean...}
{You have about a hundred floors worth of rubble on top of you, boss. It
isn't a pretty sight.}
A few hundred oaths later, she interupted him. {Boss, why didn't you
_tell_ me you'd been reading the "Necronomicon"? I especially liked the one
about C'thulhu, the French Maid and Bill Clinton.}
Sigh. {Just tell me when you estimate they'll reach my position, okay?}
{Best guess is 14 to 18 hours, b'wana. They're using heavy equipment, as
they don't expect any survivors.}
{Good. I might as well get some sleep. Give me a wake-up call when they
get near me.}
{Right. Nighty-night, lover.} A soft giggle in his ear.
*I really wish she'd take this more seriously. Ah, well. Hmm... I wonder
what Zoner would do in my position?*
* * *
STEEL BREEZE PRODUCTIONS
and
Industrial Might & Logic
Are Proud to Present
L E G I O N ' S Q U E S T 2 :
Tanks For The Memories
Chapter 2
or
(You're from where??)
* * *
Hours later...
{Boss. Hey, boss! Wakey, wakey! They're almost reached you. Get ready.}
{Thanks, m'dear. Nice nap, while it lasted. Gotta go, girl.}
"Hey! We've got a survivor here!"
"Impossible!"
"Tell that to him!"
*Better go into the act.* thought Ed. *The last thing I need is a
suspicious rescue team.*
"Would somebody get this junk off of me!" *Jeez! This is _embarassing_!*
A police officer tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, sir. We'll have you
out in a few moments. Just don't move. We're bringing in the cutting gear
now. Just remain calm."
"I understand that. And I would appreciate it if you'd HURRY THE HELL
UP!!"
* * *
A medic was trying to check Ed out, and no matter how hard he tried, he
just couldn't seem to get rid of the man.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine! Now would you leave me alone? I've got places
to go, things to do and people to see."
The officer who'd spoken to him before stepped up. "I'm afraid that's
impossible right now, sir. After the paramedic is done examining you, we'd
like for you to come down to headquarters to answer some questions."
"What for?" Ed demanded. "Am I under arrest? And if so, what are the
charges?"
"We'd just like to ask you about what happened in the bar, sir. And how
you managed to catch the falling support beam. Several of the witnesses who
you rescued mentioned that. Understandably, we're curious."
*ARRRGHHHH! I _KNEW_ saving those people was a mistake. Damn. `No good
deed goes unpunished.' Might as well go along with the nice officer. I can
always wait 'til they put me in a cell. Minerva can beam me up, and I'll
have simply `disappeared'. Better an unsolved mystery than the truth. And an
unsolved mystery is just as good as an explanation, as long as it's
mysterious within a normal framework.*
"All right. I'll try to answer your questions. Just get this... this
_leech_ away from me!" He shook his arm free of the blood pressure cuff the
medic was trying to attach. "By the way, Officer, I didn't catch your name."
The officer smiled. "I didn't throw it. But the name is Wills. Lt.
Detective David Wills."
He started strongly at the name. *Why me? Why did it have to be me? Why
couldn't Smith have messed with somebody else's life? First vacationing
authors, and now hentai bumas from another dimension. I hate my life.* He
sighed deeply.
"All right, Leftenant. Let's be on our way. I got a story that'll just
fascinate the hell outta you."
He got into the back of the squad car and slumped dejectedly into the
seat, next to several two-litre bottles of Mountain Dew. The detective
looked at him curiously.
"What's the matter?"
"Lt. Wills, a bit of advice. `Do not call up that which you cannot put
down.' In other words, there are some things you're just better off not
knowing about. Trust me. I _know_ what I'm talking about." He laughed
bitterly. "Let's go. I'm sure you've all sorts of superiors who'd just love
to talk with me."
***********************************
The lieutenant looked at the person in the back of his squad car with
more than a little curiousity. In a case like this, he'd usually write off
the unusual strength and durability as just another rogue buma... but this
person didn't register as a buma. He didn't register at all, for that
matter. Wills wasn't getting anything from the survivor aside from height,
weight and general appearance.
*I would like _very_ much to know just "how" a human could survive that
collapse. And if he has a kawaii sister...*
"Hey, Lieutenant! Do you mind if I have some Dew?"
"No, go ahead and help yourself." Wills eyes widened as he watched the
young-looking man (?) drain a two litre bottle in one long swallow. Then a
second bottle. Then a third. *Ack! He finished my last bottle! We've got to
stop at the nearest Seven-Eleven immediately!*
"Ahhhhh..... I _needed_ that. Thank you, Lieutenant. It was mighty dry
underneath all that rubble." He gave the officer an odd look. "Why the kid
gloves treatment? If you think I've got something to hide, why not the third
degree?"
"For one thing, there were all the lives you saved. With the exception of
two bodies we can't identify, everyone in the bar escaped uninjured, thanks
to your actions."
"And for another thing...?"
"You look like someone on the run. But you're not in any of _our_
databases as a criminal. So, as long as you haven't done anything in my
jurisdiction, you haven't anything to worry about." Wills frowned. "Unless
someone is following you with extradition papers?" This didn't get the
response he expected. Fear, anger, guilt, any of the standard looks. The
last thing in the world he expected was laughter.
"Bwahahahahaha! Heheheheh!" Ed snorted Dew through his nose. "I'm sorry,
Detective. Extradition papers are the _last_ thing I've got to worry about.
Hahahahaha!"
He laughed all the way to headquarters.
***********************************
"One man's `magic' is another man's engineering. `Supernatural' is a null
word."
- Robert A. Heinlein, "The Notebooks of Lazarus Long"
"So, Mister... Becerra? Did I pronounce that correctly?"
"Close enough. It's Basque, originally. But call me Ed. Most everyone
does."
"All right, Ed. What's your story?" The detective leaned back into his
swivel chair.
"Hmm... Well, first, I think I'd better tell you that I know what _you_
are, Detective Wills." He began to recite from memory.
"Name: David E. Wills Gender: Male
Height: 175cm (254cm in Buma form)
Weight: 65kg (233kg in Buma form)
Age: n.a. (25-30 in appearance)
Hair: Brown Eyes: Blue
Model: GENOM: Bu 99-hS-1EX-0
Activated: 680313 Deactivated: [FAILED]
Occupation: H-otaku
Aliaes: Jack Flack, Biocrete, Spoogemiester."
The detective looked astonished. The blood drained from his face. "How
did you..."
"It's a _very_ long story, Detective Wills. You got a couple of hours
free?"
"I think I'd better MAKE a couple of hours free." He shut and locked the
office door and pulled down all the window shades. "This looks interesting."
He reached for a bottle of Mountain Dew. "Want one?"
"Thank you." Ed drained half of it and began. "It all started some months
ago, in Colorado, on the campus of Northeastern Junior College..."
* * *
A few hours later:
"That was the most... different story I've ever heard."
Ed shrugged. "You should try it from my side." He pitched an empty bottle
of Dew into the growing pile near the wastebasket. "My life has definitely
taken a sharp right turn straight into the Twilight Zone. Anyway, if you
find it hard to believe, I'm ready to back it up with hard evidence."
"What sort of proof do you have?"
"Would you accept my ship as proof enough? I can have Minerva beam the
both of us straight to the bridge. There's enough high tech aboard her to
choke a horse. But if I do, you'll have to keep it a secret. From what
little I know of this reality, there are at least a dozen or more groups
who'd happily kill the entire city just to get their hands on her."
"I think that would be more than enough to satisfy me. You said beam up?
Like a transporter?" Wills looked curious.
"Exactly that. A lot of the technology was taken straight from Star
Fleet. Gryphon's shipyards at Utopia Planetia helped to refit her."
"Then let's do it. How long will it take?"
"This long. Minerva?"
{Here, b'wana.}
"Two to beam up, m'dear."
{Boss, he's a boomer. Can you trust him?}
Ed frowned. "I don't really have that much choice, girl. He trusted me.
It's a matter of honor."
{Your call, lover. Just say when.}
"You'd better let folks know not to disturb you for a while, Detective."
Wills tapped the intercom and explained he'd be unavailable to speak with
anyone for a while and asked not to be interrupted. Then he turned to Ed.
"I'm ready."
"All right. Now, girl."
A shimmer of light surrounded them. As it faded, so did they.
***********************************
As they appeared on the bridge, Detective Wills looked around,
fascinated.
"So this is the Calypso. Nice ship. But I thought you said it was a
Klingon Bird of Prey. It doesn't look like it from the inside."
"My future self re-decorated. Klingon decore lacks a certain something,"
Ed snickered. "So, you want the dollar tour?"
"Definitely. It's not every day a cop gets to tour a starship."
"Hey, it's not every day I end up owning a starship." He turned to the
main screen. "Minerva, would you like to help?"
She rezzed up at the navagation station. "Any thing for you, b'wana. What
would you like to see, Lieutenant?"
*Ah...* he thought, eyeing the hologram. *How about something in red and
black lace...* "Just the highlights, ma'am. We don't have a lot of time.
I've got to get back to the office soon." He began to drool heavily, looking
at her tight black dress.
She giggled. "I'm not a `ma'am', officer, but thank you for the
compliment. And be warned, you letch. I'm just a hologram, when I want to
be. So glomping on me means you'll just be groping air. Unless you like
carressing computer chips." She stepped to the exit. "Now wipe the drool
from your chin, and come along."
"But I'm not..." He looked down, and noticed the small puddle growing at
his feet. "Uh, yeah... right."
* * *
"I see what you mean by criminals wanting to get their hands on the
Calypso. You've got enough weaponry aboard to fight a medium-sized war."
David frowned. "What's with the heavy artillery?"
"I got folks looking for me. Remember, I mentioned picking up a few
things during my unintentional trip through infinity. There are some being
out there who think that _they_ have the monopoly on reality-altering. As
far as they're concerned, I either join their little self-congratulatory
club and abide by their rules, or die." A stormy look filled Ed's face. "I
_do not_ like being pushed around. It gets me angry. And when they push, I
like to be able to push back."
"That's understandable." Wills nodded. "But we have to get back. My
partner will be getting suspicious. She's probably thinking I've got a
kawaii babe in the office."
"What, you mean you don't do that?" smirked Ed
"Wellll.... I try to cut down, during duty hours."
"Sheyeah, right."
Wills clutched at his heart (hydralic pump?) dramatically. "Oooh! Right
here it hurts... Does no one trust me? Et tu, et tu..."
***********************************
"When a place gets crowded enough to require ID's, social collapse is not
far away. It is time to go elsewhere. The best thing about space travel
is that it made it possible to go elsewhere."
- Robert Heinlein, "The Notebooks Of Lazarus Long"
Back in Lt. Wills' office...
"So, what do we do about your ID problem? You don't have anything that
can pass here."
"Humph." Ed scratched at the scar on his forehead. "You've standard
access to the police computers, right?"
"Yes.. But my clearance isn't high enough to fake an identity for you."
"That's not what I was thinking of. Minerva can do it for you. It's
breaking the security that causes problems. Do it stealthy, and it takes
forever. Do it quick, and somebody always sounds the alarm. But with you to
get her past the first line security..."
Wills nodded. "Sounds like a plan. So, what? I just log on?"
"Yeah. She tries to keep an eye and ear on me all the time." He paused.
{You ready, m'dear?}
{Always, lover.}
"Okay, Dave, just log on to your account and stand back. Watch a true
mistress of cyberspace at work."
* * *
A few moments later, a new identity took shape on the office terminal.
Lt. Wills watched in admiration.
"Hey! I really like the way she wove in that bit about your birth
certificate being destroyed during the last earthquake!"
"Minerva's quite artistic. She just can't resist putting in those little
flourishes."
A few more minutes and it was done. Minerva had even included a brief
passage detailing how Lt. Wills had voluntarily assisted Mr. Becerra in
reconstructing his identity papers. David smirked at that.
Then there came a loud hammering at the door.
"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, YOU PERVERT! SO TELL THE GIRL TO GET HER CLOTHES
ON!"
Wills panicked for a brief moment. *Oh no! The jig's up! Quick, hide the
gal! Hide the gal!! Oh, wait... <whew>*
"Who's that?" asked Ed.
David rolled his eyes. "That's my partner, Lt. Mariko Konjou."
Ed gave forth with an evil grin. "All right, let _ME_ get the door,
then. I've got an idea..."
He silently stepped over to the door and quick yanked it open. Mariko
rushed in to find a fully clothed, non-raving, officer of the law sitting
peacefully behind his desk speaking with a male citizen.
"Yes, Mr. Becerra, we of the police are always happy to assist those in
distress. I'm only sorry that we weren't able to rebuild and restore your
papers sooner."
"That's quite all right, Lieutenant. I'm most grateful for the help, and
your efforts in digging me out from under the wreckage of the restaurant."
The expression on Mariko's face was priceless. David forever after
regretted not having a camera on hand.
***********************************
Personal Log: Entry 95
Well, things have settled down, finally. Detective Wills added a little
something to my cover story. He noted the fact that my last name was of
Basque derivation, and when his partner noticed a few holes in my new ID (no
paper trail, that is) he swung into action.
He told her that I was a volunteer undercover operative who'd infiltrated
the Basque Liberation Front. My cover had been blown by a double agent in
Interpol, and I was running for my life. The `unusual' physical abilities
I'd shown were explaned away as the result of the BLF terrorists having used
me as a human guinea pig for one of their bio-warfare experiments, before
I'd managed to escape. It's a regular defense in depth.
Then, Mariko told her friends, they told their friends, and so on. The
story spread like wildfire. As my father once told me, the only thing faster
than the speed of light, is the speed of gossip.
As a result, I'm being treated like a minor hero by most of the law
enforcement officers in the city. Dave told them I don't like to talk about
it, so they simply say things like: "Lt. Wills tells me that there are
things you don't want to talk about. Nobody will speak of them to you. We're
all happy that you're with us; we'd like you to make our city your new
home."
That particular quote came from Wills' supervisor, as a matter of fact.
And they've covered for me with the press, as well. When I had to go receive
an award from the city for saving those people in the restaurant, the
department's undercover squad gave me a make over with the same kit they use
for their agents. By the time they were through with me, even my own mother
wouldn't have recognized me. Not that she could recognized me now, after the
accident.
And the chief of police has offered me a job. Not as sworn personnel,
mind you. He was trying to solve two problems with one solution. Seems that
they just can't keep any good mechanics in the Tank Police. One _particular_
officer keeps frightening them away, or beating the crap out of them. Her
excuse? They just aren't treating her beloved Bonaparte properly. Three
guesses as to which officer _that_ might be. The Chief thinks that since I
happen to be particularly... err... durable, so to speak, I'd make an
excellent mechanic for her tank.
I figured, why not? Minerva was right. I _do_ need a rest. And I think
I'll take it right here. Aside from a bit of crime here and there, this
isn't a bad reality. There's the bacterial cloud, but that's not something I
need to worry about, what with the new body I have. And it's not that
different from home. The technology is a bit more advanced than that of
1995, but after all those months living in Utopia Planetia, then the weeks
aboard the Calypso, high tech isn't really that much of a shock anymore.
The only real difficulty that I can see is the rampant crime, and given
that the muggers I... uhh... disabled have been spreading the word about me,
I don't have to worry about street crime anymore. And after a break-in or
two, burglers won't be much trouble either. I'm letting Minerva take care of
the security at my apartment. She's rather... _strict_ when it comes to
people who try to take my property. I just hope the first few thieves who
attemp it can survive her!
After I find a place to stay, I'll be reporting to work the following
Monday. It ought to be interesting. The irresistable force (Officer Ozaki)
meets the immovable object (me). Both the Tank Police and the ADP are laying
bets on how big the resulting explosion is going to be. I've already bet ten
ounces of gold on myself, at two to one odds. In my favor. Heh!
End Log Entry 95
***********************************
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in
awhile, you might miss it."
- Ferris Beuller, "Ferris Beuller's Day Off"
Ed looked around at the appartment. It was roomy and well lit, with a
large window in the living room that looked out over the city. A excellent
appartment, in fact. It made him wonder.
"How'd you find this place, Dave?"
"Oh, I just happened to hear that it was available. Over the grapevine,
you know."
Lt. Wills looked innocent. TOO innocent, thought Ed to himself. *That
expression is the look of someone hiding something. I'd best find out what.
Before I walk into something unexpected.*
"Okay, Dave. Spill it. Just what's wrong with this appartment? The rent
is _far_ to low for a place this nice, and the manager seemed desperate to
get me to sign. What's going on?"
The look of utter innocence on David's face intensified, amazing Ed, who
didn't think that was physically possible. "I haven't got a clue. Honest, I
don't!"
*All right, time for the big guns. Hey, if it works for his partner,
Mariko, it'll work for me. Problem is, I can't pull one-ton mallets out of
thin air. I may be living in a anime universe, but I'm _not_ an anime
character.* Then an idea struck him. *Cartoon cliche' Number 2 - "That's so
crazy, it just might work!" Besides, I miss Yach'o, Wach'o and Dh'ot. And
all the fun I had with their crazy practical jokes. This one's for them.*
{Minerva?}
{Yes, lover?}
{I need your help, m'dear.} He explained his idea.
{That's _evil_, boss. Truly sick and twisted. I'm proud of you! I'd be
happy to help.}
The air in the apartment sizzled with the sound of the transporter
effect, and an Acme brand 50 kilo anvil suddenly appeared in mid-air,
directly above Lt. Wills' head.
!! C L A N G !!
"Ooooooh...." moaned the officer. He had assumed the standard anime
position, arms out-stretched, looking rather like a stepped-on cockroach.
*Heheh! Kind of reminds me of Ranma, after Akane hits him with a table.*
He sniggered helplessly. "Now, are you gonna tell me the truth? Or do I have
to go for the one hundred kilo anvil?"
"Ooooggh...."
"I can do this all day, Dave. And I'll never run out of anvils."
"NoOoOoOo..." Wills groaned. "I cOnfeSs. It's mY faUlt. I liVe uPstaIrs."
"Oh. Oho! Now it all makes _sense_! Wild parties, eh? Half-nude, kawaii
babes running around all hours of the night? The landlord must have had a
hellish time trying to rent this one with you right above it." He smirked.
"All right, Minerva, lose the anvil."
Another sizzle, and the anvil vanished. David slowly climbed to his feet,
rubbing the rather large lump on his skull. "He threatened to evict me if I
didn't help him find someone to rent this place to. And there aren't that
many places left that would take me." He grinned foolishly. "My reputation
preceeds me."
"Well, don't worry. I'll take it." His eyes narrowed. "But not with the
original contract, mind you. I'm willing to bet that if I inspected the fine
print, I'd find some unbreakable clause that would keep me paying rent even
if I decided to move out. Right?" He shot a stern glance at the lecherous
police officer, who simply looked a little more guilty than he already had.
"Ahh... well... you see..."
"Never mind. I don't mind wild parties. And besides, it's a nice place.
I'll sign the contract right now. _After_ that penalty clause is removed,
that is. Now let's go get some Mountain Dew!"
***********************************
It took a day or two to move in. Ed didn't want Minerva to beam in his
belongings for fear of making the landlord suspicious. So he rented a small
storage warehouse for a few days, had some of his stuff beamed directly
there, and then hired a regular moving firm to haul it from there to his new
apartment.
After that, came the fun part. The first day on the job.
/* Dire Straights "Money for Nothing" */
*I've always hated this. Whether it's school, the army, or just plain
shlepping the 9 to 5 bit, I _hate_ the first day.* he thought as he waited
for the bus. *And having to face Leona Ozaki, well... Thank the deity of
your choice, Allah to Zeus, that I'm semi-invulnerable. That little gal may
be the kawaii sort that David drools over, but her obsession with that tank
of hers is just a little sick, if you ask me.*
After reaching headquaters and receiving his ID pass, he headed over to
the tank motor pool. Looking around, he spotted Lt. Britain slumped in a
corner.
*Has to be Britain. Who else would be picking his teeth with a knife and
reading `KILL' magazine?*
He walked over. "Lt. Britain? I'm your new mechanic, Edward Becerra."
Britain jerked upright, spilling his pistol from it's holster, which fell
to the ground and went off.
!SPANG!
The shot ricocheted off several walls and a few tanks before coming to a
stop. Neither of them noticed that the stray bullet had scratched
Bonaparte's paint job.
"Who the HELL are you and what are you doing here in Tank Police
territory? TALK!" Britain shouted.
Ed took a moment to wipe the spit from his face. *Say it, don't spray
it.* he thought. "I'm your new tank mechanic, Lieutenant. Edward Becerra.
I've just been assigned to your unit. I was told that you're having a bit of
trouble trying to keep a mechanic assigned to Officer Ozaki's machine." He
shrugged. "I'm a little harder to discourage than most, so they sent me."
Britain snatched up his pistol, and favored Ed with a nasty look. "I got
news for ya, newbie. Nobody maintains Ozaki's tank but Ozaki," he sneered.
"The last few guys who tried are still recovering from the double
orchidectomies she gave them."
"Yeah, well, I'm still gonna try, Lieutenant. Besides, she might get a
surprise if she tried that on me."
"Yer funeral, boy. Don't say I didn't _warn_ ya."
Ed nodded. "So where is she? I might as well give her the bad news in
person."
Just then a scream split the air.
"Boney! Boney, baby! Who did this to you? Who hurt you, baby? I'll make
them suffer for this..."
"There she is, boy. You go tell her that you're her new mech." Britain
ducked behind his magazine.
"All right, Lieutenant." He started over, then a thought popped into his
head. He looked at Bonapart, calculated the angles, and looked back at where
the Lieutenant's pistol had fallen. He turned back. "Oh, Lieutenant?"
"WHAT?"
"Just a friendly piece of advise. You might want to police up that shell
casing before Leona notices it and figures things out. If she guesses that
it was one of _your_ bullets that just scratched Bonaparte, well..."
Britain went chalk-white, and made a sudden grab for the errant
cartridge. He quickly hid it in a pocket. "Thanks, kid." he growled
"Don't mention it. Happy to help."
As he walked over to where Leona was raving, he eyed the small tank. *Not
a bad design. She did a pretty good job building that, considering she
started with nothing but scrap from other tanks. I'll have to tell her that,
once I get to know her.*
The frantic officer quieted suddenly when she noticed Ed approach with a
toolkit. "Just what do you think *you're* doing?" she demanded.
"My job. I'm your new mechanic, ma'am." He pulled out a small buffer and
began to smooth out the scratch. "They told me you had a problem with
mechanics. That's why I'm here."
He heard a metallic clanking, and then felt a blow to the back of his
head. *Hmmm... I'd say that was a torque wrench, probably with a 10 mm
socket. Could have seriously injured someone else.* He finished feathering
the scratch, and noted that the bullet hadn't marred the metal underneath.
Reaching for a piece of cardboard, he used it to mask off the area and began
to apply a matching enamel. While he was doing this, several more blows
rained down, accompanied by some truly sulferous language.
*I wonder where she learned to swear like that. I hope she doesn't _eat_
with that mouth.*
As he waited for the enamel to dry, he began to whistle a little tune,
and then started singing.
"Slow down, you move too fast.
You've got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the down the cobble stones,
Looking for fun and feelin' groovy!
Hello, Lampost, whatcha' knowin'?
I come to watch your flowers growin'
Ain't ya got no rhymes for me?
Shooby-de-doo-boop, feelin' groovy!"
Once the enamel was dry, he buffed it to a high polish. By the time he
was done, the various assaults had stopped. He finished by applying a coat
of carnuba wax.
Turning around, he saw Leona staring at him, her jaw hanging limply and
her eyes the size of saucers. Behind her stood the rest of Britain's unit,
looking at him in astonishment. He shrugged.
"What? Haven't you ever seen anyone repair a tank before?" He glanced
over at Lt. Britain. "You got a bad mosquito problem, sir. I could feel the
little annoyances all over, trying to bite me while I worked. You really
oughta spray for them."
Chaplain laughed, and held out a hand to Mohawk, who grumbled and reached
for his wallet. He dug out a fist-full of bills and passed them over the
reverend.
"Thou should not have doubted the skill and ability of our newest
mechanic, friend Mohawk." Chaplain smiled. "I have spoken with our
accquantance in the ADP, the dedicated, albeit lecherous, Lt. Wills. He
assured me that our new friend would prove worthy of caring for Leona's
beloved Bonaparte."
***********************************
"I only battled dragons when it was absolutely necessary, I rigorously
avoided deeds of heroism, great or otherwise, and this place may be
strange enough, but I wish I'd never seen it and I bet you all do too."
- Wiz Zumwalt, "The Wizardry Consulted."
A week later, life was going fine. Ed was keeping busy patching up
Bonaparte after Leona drove it into one problem after another, and
occasionally lent a hand to the other mechanics. It helped to be able to
lift a ton or so.
That Friday night, however...
Walking down the hall to his apartment, he noticed a large package
sitting there. He reached down, and examined the attached card.
"Belated apartment warming present. Hope you like it..." It was signed
'Dave'.
Ed opened the package, and grinned at the contents. "Oh, yeah! One gallon
of Industrial Strength Mountain Dew Syrup!" He shook his head ruefully. "You
are a buma of refined tastes, my friend." He set the package down, and
reached for his door key. He froze when he noticed that the door was
unlocked.
{Minerva? Minerva? Where are you, girl?} he called. He didn't get any
answer. A small muscle in his jaw began to twitch, and he shoved the door
open and stepped inside.
"Hello, Edward. We've been waiting for you. I hope you don't mind that I
made myself at home?"
Ed glared at the intruder. "So, you've found me."
The intruder lifted an eyebrow. "You're aware of who I am?"
"Given your present appearance, either you're a crazed Corben Bernsen
fan, or you're Q."
The omnipotent being smirked at him. "You're not quite as slow as the
others said you were. You get points for that. And before you ask, yes, I am
the one preventing your AI from reaching you. I didn't want her interfering
with this."
"And what might 'this' be, Q?" His voice sounded polite and reasonable.
Too reasonable.
"Why, you're coming with me, to the continuum. To be trained and taught.
You're not a human. You don't belong here with them. You're part of the
continuum, now."
"And if I don't _want_ to be?"
"What you want and don't want are irrelevant. You're coming to the
continuum, like it or not." Q frowned. "Are you really foolish enough to
think you're capable of defying the Q? You're nowhere _near_ being able to
understand your powers, let alone _use_ them."
Ed blinked at him. "No, I don't think I'm capable of fighting you on your
level..."
Q smiled. "Good, now let's be going."
"... but I _can_ drag you down to MY level!" He took several quick steps
forward and grabbed Q by the throat. There was a flare of brilliant light.
But when it faded, Q was still there, with Ed's hands wrapped firmly around
his neck.
"You know something, Q? You REALLY should have asked youself, did he get
anything from his future self, and can he use it! I may not be able to
understand or control most of my new abilities but I can use this one!"
All he got from Q was a strangled squawk.
"Legion left me a lesson in this little trick, Q. As long as I
concentrate, everyone has to play by MY rules. They have to live by MY
limits! And since I'm not much more than a human, still, you're stuck with
that. No Q powers, no flashy escapes. You can't do anything I can't do."
Q stared at him with hate in his eyes. But Ed didn't give him any chance
to express it.
"You know, I'll get too tired, and you'll get away, eventually. And I
don't want to kill you. So I think, instead, that a little lesson in pain is
in order. Class is now in session!"
He released Q and swiftly kneed him in the groin. As the retching being
dropped, Ed lashed out with the edge of one hand and broke Q's nose. He let
Q writhe for a moment, then kicked him in the ribs, breaking several. As a
final touch, he crushed Q's kneecap. Then he stopped.
After a very long fifteen minutes, he spoke again. "I know that hurts, Q
just as I know you'll heal yourself as soon as you can get away from me. But
the memory of that pain will stay with you. Perhaps it will teach you a
lesson. The same one your brother learned aboard the Enterprise-D. Now, I
want you to take a message."
"Wha.. What message?" the agonized Q got out.
"If you clowns want me, that's one thing. I can live with the Q chasing
me, I can put up with the Timelords of Gallifrey and the Guardians of Oa, as
well. But you touch anyone or anything else, and I'm gonna be all over you
idiots like a blanket. I'm sick and tired of innocents getting caught in the
line of fire. You got that?!"
Q nodded weakly.
"Good. Now bail. Get the hell out of my apartment. I don't want you
fouling it up."
The flare of light appeared again, and this time, when it faded, the Q
went with it.
{BOSS!} rang in his mind. {Boss! Are you all right?!}
"I'm okay. m'dear. Everything's all right now."
{But what happened?! I got cut off from the apartment, and when you
entered the building, from you as well!}
Ed chuckled. "That's a long story, girl. A very long story. Let me fix
myself a drink, and I'll tell it to you..." He stopped, and looked down at
his hands, which were trembling violently. "How remarkable..." he observed
in a detached sounding voice. "I must have over-exerted..."
As he began to perform faceplant manouver Number 1 into the carpet, he
hoped that Minerva wouldn't panic. He could hear her screaming thinly in his
head as he crashed into the coffee table.
*I'm sorry, baby...*
***********************************
And that's chapter 2. I'd like to thank my good
net.acquaintance, David Wills, the Official Raving
Hentai Lunatic of world.std.com for permission to
use him and his partner, Lt. Mariko Konjou, as
characters in this story.
Thank you, Dave. I hope you like it so far.
Dominion Tank Police, Star Trek, and all other
characters are (c)opyrighted by their owners and
appear in this work of fan fiction without any
official permission whatsoever. Lt. Dave Wills and
Lt. Mariko Konjou are (c)opyrighted by, and appear
courtesy of, David Wills.
Hope you like the story so far. It's got a ways
to go, yet. And, as always, if you enjoyed it, then
e-mail me at eabecerr@henge.com. I always like to
hear from a fan.
And remember,
"Anime... It's not just for breakfast, anymore!"