And on to a fic that stirred up a bit o' controversy.

Deadman's Swing
Douglass Weeks
weeksdo1@pilot.msu.edu

     Now I'm sure that there are many people out there screaming, 'A
Bebop continuation? For the love of god why?'  Easy answer.  Because
there are so many horrendous Bebop continuations out there, I decided to
do one that took most the cliches spawned by those, and try and make a
decent story out of it.  And the result:

Heh. Not having read any other Bebop continuations, I can't comment on that
aspect of it. Truthfully, didn't know there was that much CB stuff out
there, though I did come up with an idea of how things could have been
continued with an interesting twist or two.

Deadman's Swing

Like the title, though I'm not sure 'Swing' is really a term I associate
with Jazz myself.

     What woke him wasn't the pain, but the complete lack of.  For as
long as he could remember there had been nothing but endless agony, and
then nothing, a stop so abrupt that the absence was almost as bad as the
pain itself.  At first he didn't know that he was awake.  There was
darkness, and he knew that there was some way to end it, but he couldn't
remember what that was.  Something had existed before the darkness, but
the memory was elusive and the dark was soft and smothering, and he
couldn't muster the will to try and leave it.

Interesting enough first paragraph.

     He wasn't sure if he'd become unconscious again but

again, but (I think)

with how.
     Finally, just before he thought it would drive him insane, the
noise faded.  "Audio connections have been finalized," an unseen voice
said.  "All lines are green."  There was a pause and the sound of
movement.  "Damn it, you messed up the visual lines."

Ah ha. He's RoboSpike. Like RoboCop, but less clunky and more sarcastic. :)

     A voice behind the butterfly spoke.  "Ocular response normal,
patient is conscious although he has not yet attempted to vocalize."
     "That's because we haven't connected his larynx yet,"

Yes, that would do it.

     "Put him out again." The first voice sounded distracted, and he
heard metal on metal sounds.  "Since we've confirmed greenlines on all
the vital nervous connections, we don't need him to be awake anymore."
     "I'm on it."
    Something picked him up and squeezed him, crushing him into a tiny
pinpoint, then crushing that tiny point of being even smaller, and the
light and the sound faded once more.

Actually it does remind me overmuch of Robocop. The movie inspire this at
all?

existed.  He blinked several times, and he could've sworn that something
in his head _clicked_  and the watery, multicolored blurs in front of
his eyes resolved into a doctor, only his eyes showing through the cap
and facemask.  Another man stood behind the doctor, carefully keeping
his distance.  He kept a mask pressed over his mouth with one hand, and
wore the distinctive 'uniform' of one of the syndicate's foot soldiers.

Don't really recall them having uniforms of any kind.

     Spike was surprised as well.  The accumulation of wounds that he'd
gained during his fight to Vicious' sanctum would've proven mortal, he
was sure of that.  Vicious' last stroke should have cut him in half,
would have, if he hadn't just put a bullet in the middle of his
prot�g�'s forehead,

Eh? I thought they were equals. Protege impies Spike taught Vicious, and
that doesn't ring true to me.

     The doctor gave the goon a nervous glance and then cleared his
throat.  "I said, that there was very little I couldn't fix, so long as
I had an intact brain to work with.  You made sure that in Sir Vicious'
case, I didn't."

Sir? Would think 'Mr.' would have been more applicable.

     Spike tried to laugh, but for some reason he couldn't.  "You go and
think all you want, it won't change the way-."  His head suddenly seemed
hollow as he realized what he was being asked, the goon's words echoing
endlessly, hammering away at his brain.  "You want me to lead the
syndicate?" he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse and hollow.
     The goon nodded earnestly.  "If you don't, then we're all dead.
The syndicate won't survive."

That's not a bad thing.

spidery, skittery, skirting the edge of insanity.  "You turned me into a
robot?  I don't believe it."
     "Mr. Spiegel, please understand, it was the only way.  I know that
you've undergone cyber surgery before so this is nothing new to you.
The only difference this time around is the scope."
     The laughter subsided, but Spike could feel it bubbling in his
throat, waiting to burst forth again.  "Nope, you're going to have to
peddle your bullshit somewhere else, 'cause I ain't buying."

You think he would spend at least a thought for Julia. That's the thing that
triggered his suicide run after all.

     "I don't care how hard it is," the goon interrupted.  "You are
going to keep him alive.  I don't care if you dope him up to the gills,
just leave him in a condition where he can appear to lead, and do it
fast.  I've already lost control of our people on Europa.  Venus is
balanced on the edge, waiting to see how we deal with Europa before it
decides which way to jump.  We loose Venus and the entire syndicate is
going to unravel."

Nice to see they are doing this for self-centered reasons. Using Spike as
their puppet could work to their advantage too.

     Spike closed his eyes until the doctor turned him away from the
cylinders.  The chill was fading from his brain, making it easier to
think.  He'd died once to get away from the syndicate.  He'd died a
second time to settle his past accounts, and now...  He hated being
called Mr. Spiegel.  No one had ever done that.  From the time he was a
child, he'd always just been called Spike.  Now... he couldn't think of
the doctor, or the goon, or anyone calling him anything else.  Spike was
dead.  Spike was floating in pieces in a row of cylinders.  "Yeah," he
said to the goon, and the urge to laugh was only slight.  "I guess you
got your man."

He gave in way too easy.

     Ed hummed to herself as she skipped along, Ein trotting at her
heels.  She didn't really want to admit it, but it felt really good to
be free again.  The -Bebop- had been good, but she'd felt the shaping of
things to come, knew that it would be no place for a little girl, or a
dog.

True

     Seeing fatherfigure again had been what'd finally made her
decision.  Nothing bound him; he lived the life he wanted the way he
wanted and was happy.  Ed had been happy on Bebop, but it hadn't been
the right kind of happy.  Here the air always moved, gravity never
changed, and the only things that Ed had to worry about were keeping her
computer out of the rain and the occasional rock fall.  On the -Bebop-
there had always been the sensation, like hacking over an open line,
that something was sneaking up behind you, something never quite seen
and all the more terrifying because of it.

Hmm. Ed tended to seek out trouble and enjoyed it more often than not. Not
sure I buy this she wasn't happy bit.

     Jet found something grimly amusing in his complete lack of
concern.  There was something strangely seductive about giving into the
overwhelming lethargy that gripped him.  He closed his eyes, letting his
body go limp.  It was so silent out in space that he could pretend that
aside from himself, there was absolutely nothing else at all.
Nonexistence felt strangely appealing.  His suit beeped, projecting a
warning message onto the inside of his visor.  His air tanks were
running low, and the recyclers were at their limit.  Jet ignored it.

Nice look into his mind, though

     He closed the locker and headed up to the bridge, where Faye was
lounging, seemingly not paying attention to anything in particular.  Jet
though

thought

about asking her who'd activated the tether control, but it

would've been pointlessly antagonistic, and he couldn't find the energy
even for that.
     "We're going to have to set a course sometime," Faye said finally.
"Any idea of where to go?"
     Jet shrugged slowly.  "Ganymede I suppose.  One place is as good as
another."  What he wanted to say was that one place was as pointless as
another.  They could go to Jupiter, or Venus, or Earth, and they could
chase bounties, but why, how, did any of it fit into a larger scheme?

There was a larger scheme before? ^_^

They should hook up with the cowboy that was Spike's equal. I have a feeling
by his very nature he'd get them into trouble they'd have to care about.

     He lingered on the bridge for a short while, for no other reason
than that he didn't feel like investing the effort to go anywhere else.

This is getting redundent. You've made his lethergy very clear. I'd drop all
but a handful of further references to it.

     The ship was too big Jet

big, Jet (I think)

decided.  It'd never

It had (recommend spelling it out in this case)

     "The foresight of your romani

Romani (I think. Might even be Romany, but not sure)

     "It's certainly strange to hear you wax philosophic."

She's had the time, though

     He felt disconnected from his body, separate.  Sometimes it felt
like none of this was really happening to him, that he was watching a
video program though someone else's eyes.  The doctor had warned him
that cyber surgery on the scale that he'd undergone frequently lead to
what the doctor had termed 'third person syndrome.'  Although cybernetic
technology had advanced to the point where almost any part of the body
could be successfully duplicated, recreating the nerves for tactile
input was just too complex, too time consuming, and ultimately too bulky
to make it practical for use except for in a few select areas.  When so
much of the total sensory input was eliminated it became difficult to
convince the nervous system that the body was intact and functioning
normally.  Sometime Spike felt so detached that all it would take was a
small breeze and he'd simply drift away.  At times like these the doctor
would inject him with something and he'd feel better, for a little
while.

Nice explaination. I liked the way the paragraph flowed.

     "The ship you were asking about.  It made it back to orbit about
three weeks ago and headed out-system without filing a destination.  It
hasn't registered at any other port, nor has anyone reported seeing it
since it broke orbit.  I can commit syndicate resources to an active
search if-."
     "Just forget about it.  It's not important."  So even that part of
Spike's life was lost.

And it seems he's giving up way too soon on them.

     Dagara shrugged a bit uncertainly.  "If you say so sir," he said,
making a fist.
     _Flow like water._  Spike thought as he raised his hands.  _Flow
like-_.  He hit the floor hard.  His jaw didn't hurt where Dagara had
struck him, although the sensation that he'd felt wasn't exactly
pleasant either.

Good. Wouldn't want him to recover too soon.

      He suddenly felt dizzy.  What was left of Spike Spiegel?  That
man's body, his friends, even his enemies, all of them were gone.  He
ran his hands up his face.  It felt almost real, so close too

to

     "Turn the lights off on your way out, would you?"
     "Of course, sir," Dagara replied, backing quickly towards the door,
his hand shaking visibly as he reached for the handle.

     There was no lag between sleep and consciousness, no pause as his
body acclimated itself to its waking state.  He opened his eyes and was
immediately ready to go.

That must be disturbing

     "He is the leader of the Red Dragon Syndicate.  He is the Fan
Kuei."
     "Fan..."  Dagara's throat closed, choking off the rest of his
words.   "What about.... Spike Spiegel?"
     The figure's expression darkened, his hand clenching into a fist,
and he stared determinedly out into the rain.  "I told you, a man long
dead."

Hmm. Interesting. But since this is only part one, you'll not end it like
this. Wouldn't mind seeing Spike truly bury what he once was, and just exist
as something not Spike.

minutes more before he rose, releasing a deep breath.  "Thank you for
your counsel," he said, and stepped towards the door.  "I believe that I
now know the path that the Dragon must follow."  He stopped at the door
and turned towards the figure, bowing deeply.  "I thank you for your
patience, Sir Vicious."

Hmm. Interesting. Didn't suspect he was still alive, though I don't know why
they are bothering if he is incapable of any movement at all.

Overall, not bad. Not great yet either. Would have to see more to judge it
and see where you are going with this. Prose flowed well and didn't see any
grammar errors. Will look forward to more later.

D.B. Sommer

             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'