#No shackle scars even with the wreckage. In this world this place she did not have scars either. — ROWAN SCARS GONE😭

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 20 …

oh my gods chapter 20…

I am dead inside.

And somehow dying more per chapter.

Ow. THE NIGHTMARE DREAM SEQUENCE

"Do you know the story of the queen who walked through worlds?"

Seated on the mossy carpet of an ancient glen, one hand toying with the small white flowers strewn across it, Aelin shook her head.

In the towering oaks that formed a lattice over the clearing, small stars blinked and shimmered, as if they'd been snared by the branches themselves. Beyond them, bathing the forest with light bright enough to see by, a full moon had risen. All around them, faint, lilting singing floated on the warm summer air.

"It is a sad story," her aunt said, one corner of her red-painted mouth curling upward as she leaned back on her seat carved into a granite boulder. Her usual place, while they had these lessons, these long, peaceful chats deep into the balmy summer nights. "And an old one."

Aelin lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't I a little old for faerie stories?" She'd indeed just celebrated her twentieth birthday three days ago, in another clearing not too far from here. Half of Doranelle had come, it had seemed, and yet her mate had found a way to sneak her from the revelry. All the way to a secluded pool in the forest's heart. Her face still warmed to think of that moonlit swim, what Rowan had made her feel, how he'd worshipped her in the sun-warmed water.

Mate. The word was still a surprise. As it had been to arrive here at spring's end and see him beside her aunt's throne and simply know. And in the months since, their courting ... Aelin indeed blushed at the thought of it. What they'd done in that forest pool had been the culmination of those months. And an unleashing. The mating marks on her neck— and on Rowan's-proved it. She would not be returning to Terrasen alone when autumn arrived.

"No one is too old for faerie stories," her aunt said, faint smile growing. "And as you are part faerie yourself, I would think you'd have some interest in them."

Aelin smiled back, bowing her head. "Fair enough, Aunt."

Aunt wasn't entirely accurate, not with generations and millennia separating them, but it was the only thing the queen had suggested Aelin call her.

Maeve settled further into her seat. "Long ago, when the world was new, when there were no human kingdoms, when no wars had marred the earth, a young queen was born."

Aelin folded her legs beneath her, angling her head.

"She did not know she was a queen. Amongst her people, power was not inherited, but simply born. And as she grew, her strength rose with her. She found the land she dwelled in to be too small for that power. Too dark and cold and grim. She had gifts similar to many wielded by her kind, but she had been given more, her power a sharper, more intricate weapon-enough that she was different. Her people saw that power and bowed to it, and she ruled them.

"Word spread of her gifts, and three kings came to seek her hand. To form an alliance between their throne and the one she had built for herself, small as it might have been. For a time, she thought it would be the newness, the challenge that she had always craved. The three kings were brothers, each mighty in his own right, their power vast and terrifying. She picked the eldest among them, not for any particular skill or grace, but for his countless libraries. What she might learn in his lands, what she might do with her power ... It was that knowledge she craved, not the king himself."

A strange story. Aelin's brows rose, but her aunt continued on.

"So they were wed, and she left her small territory to join him in his castle. For a time, she was contented, both by her husband and the knowledge his home offered her. He and his two brothers were conquerors, and spent much of their time away, leashing new lands to their shared throne. She did not mind, not when it gave her freedom to learn as she would. But her husband's libraries contained knowledge even he did not realize was held within. Lore and wisdom from worlds long since turned to dust. She learned that there were indeed other worlds. Not the dark, blasted realm in which they lived, but worlds beyond that, living atop one another and never realizing it. Worlds where the sun was not a watery trickle through the ash-clouds, but a golden stream of warmth. Worlds where green existed. She had never heard of such a color. Green. Nor had she heard of blue-not the shade of sky that was described. She could not so much as picture it."

Aelin frowned. "A pitiful existence."

Maeve nodded grimly. "It was. And the more she read about these other worlds, where long-dead wayfarers had once roamed, the more she wanted to see them. To know the kiss of the sun on her face. To hear the morning songs of sparrows, the crying of gulls over the sea. The sea that, too, was foreign to her. An endless sprawl of water, with its own moods and hidden depths. All they had in her lands were shallow, murky lakes and half-dried streams. So while her husband and his two brothers were off waging yet another war, she began to ponder how she might find a way into one of those worlds. How she might leave."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Something nagged at her, as if it might indeed be true, but perhaps that was one of her own mother's tales, or even Marion's, tugging on her memory.

Maeve nodded. "It was. Using the very language of existence itself, doors might be opened, however briefly, between worlds. It was forbidden, outlawed long before her husband and his brothers were born. Once the last of the ancient wayfarers had died out, the paths between realms were sealed, their methods of world-walking lost with them. Or so all had thought. But deep in her husband's private library, she found the old spells. She began with small experiments. First, she opened a door to the realm of resting, to find one of those wayfarers and ask her how it was properly done." A knowing smile. "The wayfarer refused to tell her. So the queen began to teach herself. Opening and closing doors long since forgotten or sealed. Peering deep into the workings of the cosmos. Her own world became a cage. She grew tired of her husband's warring, his casual cruelty. And when he went away to war once again, the queen gathered her closest handmaidens, opened a door to a new world, and left the one she'd been born into."

"She left?" Aelin blurted. "She she just left her own world? Permanently?"

"It had never been her world, not really. She had been born to rule others."

"Where did she go?"

That smile grew a bit. "To a fair, lovely world. Where there was no war, no darkness. Not like that in which she had been born. She was made a queen there, too. Was able to hide herself within a new body so that none could know what she was beneath, so that even her own husband would not recognize her."

"Did he ever find her again?"

"No, though he looked. Found out all she'd learned, and taught it to himself and his brothers. They tore apart world after world to find her. And when they arrived at the world where she had made her new home, they did not know her. Even as they went to war, she did not reveal herself. She won, and two of the kings, her husband included, were banished back to their own world. The third remained trapped, his power nearly broken. He crawled off into the depths of the earth, and the victorious queen spent her long, long existence preparing for his return, preparing her people for it. For the three kings had gone beyond her methods of world-walking. They had found a way to permanently open a gate between worlds, and had made three keys to do so. To wield those keys was to control all worlds, to have the power of eternity in the palm of your hand. She wished to find them, only so she might possess the strength to banish any enemies, banish her husband's youngest brother back to his realm. To protect her new, lovely world. It was all she ever wanted: to dwell in peace, without the shadow of her past hunting her."

From far away, that ghost of memory pushed. As if she'd forgotten to douse a flame left burning in her room. "And did the queen find the keys?"

Maeve's smile turned sad. "Do you think she did, Aelin?"

Aelin considered. So many of their chats, their lessons in this glen, held deeper puzzles, questions for her to work through, to help her when she one day took her throne, Rowan at her side.

As if she'd summoned him, the pine-and-snow scent of her mate filled the clearing. A rustle of wings, and there he was, perched in hawk form on one of the towering oaks. Her warrior-prince.

She smiled toward him, as she had for weeks now, when he'd come to escort her back to her rooms in the river palace. It was during those walks from forest to mist-shrouded city that she had come to know him, love him. More than she had ever loved anything.

Aelin again faced her aunt. "The queen was clever, and ambitious. I would think she could do anything, even find the keys."

"So you would believe. And yet they eluded her."

"Where did they go?"

Maeve's dark stare unwaveringly held hers.

"Where do you think they went?"

Aelin opened her mouth. "I think —

She blinked. Paused

Maeve's smile returned, soft and kind. As her aunt had been to her from the start. "Where do you think the keys are, Aelin?"

She opened her mouth once more. And again halted.

Like an invisible chain yanked her back. Silenced her.

Chain—a chain. She glanced down at her hands, her wrists. As if expecting them to be there.

She had never felt a shackle's bite in her life. And yet she stared at the empty place on her wrist where she could have sworn there was a scar. Only smooth, sun-kissed skin remained.

"If this world were at risk, if those three terrible kings threatened to destroy it, where would you go to find the keys?" Aelin looked up at her aunt.

Another world. There was another world Like a fragment of a dream, there was another world, and in it, she had a wrist with a scar on it. Had scars all over.

And her mate, perched overhead ... He had a tattoo down his face and neck and arm in that world. A sad story—his tattoo told a sad, awful story. About loss. Loss caused by a dark queen.

"Where are the keys hidden, Aelin?" That placid, loving smile remained on

Maeve's face. And yet ...

And yet.

"No," Aelin breathed

Something slithered in the depths of her aunt's stare. "No what?"

This wasn't her existence, her life. This place, these blissful months learning in Doranelle, finding her mate—Blood and sand and crashing waves.

"No."

Her voice was a thunderclap through the peaceful glen.

Aelin bared her teeth, fingers curling in the moss.

Maeve let out a soft laugh. Rowan flapped from the branches to land on the queen's upraised arm.

He didn't so much as fight it when she wrapped her thin white hands around his neck. And snapped it. Aelin screamed. Screamed, clutching at her chest, at the shredding mating bond—

She screamed again. Screamed at her ruined arm, the unscarred skin, screamed at the lingering echo of the severed mating bond.

"Do you know what pains me most, Aelin?" Maeve's words were soft as a lover's. "It's that you believe I'm the villain in this."

Whenever that had been. If it had even happened at all.

"I have no doubt that your mate or Elena or even Brannon himself filled your head with lies about what I'll do with the keys." Maeve ran a hand over the stone lip of the altar, right through her splattered blood and shards of bone. "I meant what I said. I like this world. I do not wish to destroy it. Only improve it. Imagine a realm where there is no hunger, no pain. Isn't that what you and your cohorts are fighting for? A better world?"

The words were a mockery. A mockery of what she'd promised so many. What she had promised Terrasen, and still owed it.

Aelin tried not to shift against the chains, against her broken arms, against the tight pressure pushing on her skin from the inside. A rising intensity along her bones, in her head. little more, every day.

Maeve heaved a small sigh. "I know what you think of me, Fire-Bringer. What you assume. But there are some truths that cannot be shared. Even for the keys." Yet the growing strain cracking within her, smothering the pain ... perhaps worse. Maeve cupped her cheek over the mask.

"The Queen Who Was Promised. I wish to save you from that sacrifice, offered up by a headstrong girl." A soft laugh. "I'd even let you have Rowan. The two of you here, together. While you and I work to save this world."

The words were lies. She knew it, though she couldn't quite remember where one truth ended and the lie began. If her mate had belonged to another before her. Been given away. Or had that been the nightmare?

Gods, the pressure in her body. Her blood.

You do not yield.

"You can feel it, even now," Maeve went on. "The urge of your body to say yes." Aelin opened her eyes, and confusion must have glittered there, because Maeve smiled. "Do you know what being encased in iron does to a magic-wielder? You wouldn't feel it immediately, but as time goes on ... your magic needs release, Aelin. That pressure is your magic screaming it wants you to come free of these chains and release the strain. Your very blood tells you to heed me."

Truth. Not the submission part, but the deepening pressure she knew would be worse than any pain from burnout. She'd felt it once, when plunging as far into her power as she'd ever gone.

That would be nothing compared to this.

"I am leaving for a few days," Maeve said.

Aelin stilled.

Maeve shook her head in a mockery of disappointment.

Fenrys sat by the wall, concern bright in his eyes as he blinked. Are you all right?

She blinked twice. No.

No, she was not anywhere near to all right.

Maeve had been waiting for this, waiting for this pressure to begin, worse than anything Cairn might do. And with the collar Maeve now went to personally retrieve … She couldn't let herself contemplate it. A more horrific form of slavery, one she might never escape, never be able to fight.

Not a breaking of the Fire-Bringer, but an erasure.

To take all she was, power and knowledge, and rip it from her. To have her trapped inside while she witnessed her own voice yield the location of the Wyrdkeys. Swear the blood oath to Maeve. Wholly submit to her.

Fenrys blinked four times. I am here, I am with you.

She answered in kind. I am here, I am with you.

Her magic surged, seeking a way out, filling the gaps between her breath and bones. She couldn't find room for it, couldn't do anything to soothe it.

You do not yield.

She focused on the words. On her mother's voice. Perhaps the magic would devour her from the inside before Maeve returned.

But she did not know how she'd endure it.

Endure another few days of this, let alone the next hour. To ease the strain, just a fraction ...

She shut down the thoughts that snaked into her mind. Her own or Maeve's, she didn't care.

Fenrys blinked again, the same message over and over. I am here, I am with you.

Aelin closed her eyes, praying for oblivion.

"Get up." A mockery of words she'd once heard.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 1 of 30]

Summary: Erik Stevens has fully embraced his new identity as Killmonger and infiltrated a mercenary group with ties to Ulysses Klaue. Invited to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands to meet for the first time, Klaue is impressed with Erik, unaware that the man before him is the son of Prince N'Jobu Udaku, a man he betrayed on a failed mission in Wakanda years ago.

Erik ingratiates himself to Klaue and is found to be a useful member of the new mercenary team the black market arms dealer and smuggler is putting together.

As a reward for hard and profitable work for him, Ulysses allows Erik to stay a summer at his stash/safe house to keep a close eye on some stolen artifacts hidden there. Erik uses that time to hatch the long term plan of using Klaue to gain access to Wakanda, however, he becomes distracted by  Klaue's housekeeper who allows Erik glimpses into a possible different life he could have if he ever let go of his plans for revenge...

For mature audiences only. NSFW. 

C.W.: Some violence in the beginning.

Please let me know what you think, share/reblog/etc. Off to get the next update up and ready!

"Bad man, nuh talk, West London me walk No bad vibes in mi yard, or yuh hear di ting back (boom) Gyally dem ah call, see the money and the car Celly ah ring off, rum-rum, haffi start, ya hear me? Mi buss ah Champ' and then they watch we, ya hear me? Mi have di liquor and di big tree, ya hear me? No commotion in my circle Potent herb and a sweet, sweet girl Take you 'round the world No-no-no bad vibes in my yard, hmm Inna my yard, inna my yard, inna my yard…"

Goldlink – "Yard"

What's past is prologue…

Ulysses Klaue had heard rumors of a large hoard of ancient gold coins worth €4 million hidden inside Assyrian-era giant winged bulls. The entire cache of five-foot statues themselves could not be transported nor disguised because of their weight and size, but some of the heads were removed and sold on the black market. Dating back 3,000 years, they were a hot commodity after the destruction of the Mosul Museum in Iraq. Klaue knew this because he had buyers salivating for a chance to procure the heads. And some of those heads had coins hidden in them. It was why he found himself standing now in front of a tall young Black man, American, with gold slugs on his two bottom canines, and a mop of neatly braided locs.

Klaue stared at the intel he had on his field computer.

"You're saying the statues we're looking for are gone already?" Klaue asked.

"ISIL already transported all that shit."

Wide-legged stance, protective ballistic body armor draped over an impressive build, his hands holding an AR-15 pointed right at Klaue's head, this man was in control of the situation. He had five other men from his team standing behind him backing him up with their weapons drawn too. Serious beefy looking men who would shoot if their leader even blinked. The red dot on Klaue's chest was a polite way of letting him know there were snipers on his ass too.

"Stand down," Klaue ordered his men behind him. A rough motley crew of six international soldiers of fortune.

"Alhusul ealaa al'ashya' alkhasat bihim," the Black man said.

Men that Klaue and his team didn't even know were behind them materialized like ghosts, snatching up their weapons and frisking them for more.

"Is this necessary?" Klaue asked as a thick-set mercenary felt on his balls and behind his back squeezing his ass.

"Gotta be thorough in this bitch."

Klaue smirked.

"May I ask who I have the pleasure of getting my nuts tweaked by?" Klaue said.

The man rolled his tongue along his bottom teeth, the gold slugs shining in the sunset. He nodded his head to his team to round Klaue's men up. Once the men were secured and a non-threat, the man lowered his weapon. His dark brown eyes were razor sharp and they regarded Klaue with calculated verve.

"Killmonger."

###

The oldest profession in the world was prostitution.

The second…killers for hire.

Of course, there were kinder more veiled names for mercenaries nowadays:

Soldiers of Fortune.

Private Military Contractors.

Professional Hired Fighters.

Dogs of War.

But Erik "Killmonger" Stevens knew what it was. Murder Incorporated—monetized madness.

The business of war was to keep a perpetual cycle of conflict all over the world so fat cats could make their coins under the guise of professional conflict management. If his mother were still alive, she would say what she always said around her women friends and his very own father…men were trash.

And she was right.

Unfortunately, she gave birth to a son who had to maneuver among the garbage so that he could fulfill his destiny. A destiny of revenge. A making right of what had been wrong for so long.

On the days that he did have downtime and could sit and do nothing at all, Erik would catch a news report or some ticker tape lede on the bottom of C-SPAN, CNN, MSNBC, or the BBC—just about any global news outlet—and catch glimpses of his final endgame. T'Chaka Udaku.

A king.

An elder statesmen.

A blood relative.

A lifelong enemy.

Erik's body would coil tight and hot when he let his mind imagine the day he would be in the presence of his Uncle. He foresaw the moment he would pull back the thick flesh of his bottom lip, the glowing blue vibram tattoo his father gave him as a child embedded deep in the skin of his inner mouth.

He ached to show the ring his father had left for him dangling around his neck, ached to taste and feed on the moment he would reveal all to King T'Chaka, unveil his birthright, and then snap the old man's neck with his bare hands, appreciating the feel of vertebrae cracking and twisting beneath his powerful calloused fingers. Or maybe he would fashion panther claws for himself and rip the man's heart out through his chest. Erik relished the thought. He would bring down—no…eradicate—he would eradicate the old House of Udaku, destroy T'Chaka's bloodline branch and take the throne of Wakanda for himself. A new sun would set on the golden city of Birnin Zana, the place of his father's birth.

Erik was his father's son, but he was also his mother's child, and Califia Stevens didn't raise no simpering punk. He was taught to be a soldier the moment he fell out of his mother's womb. The war he was going to rage was groomed by all of the things that happened in his life and all the things he was learning while biding his time in the ranks of private armies. Sitting back in the cut, gathering new skills and Intel, moving closer to finding the man he needed to get him into Wakanda: Ulysses Klaue. A man who sat at the top of his kill list for right now.

Erik sat crossed-legged overlooking a sand berm keeping watch for a particular caravan of armored S.U.V.s to traverse their path. The sun was making its way to a sluggish sunset, and his military-issue sunglasses protected his tired eyes. He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours and the job he was meant to complete was only halfway finished.

Earlier in the day, his crack team of fifteen men pulled off a bold daytime robbery of highly-sought after Assyrian gold coins. Disguised as U.N. peace-keepers dedicated to preserving artifacts, Erik was the only American on the removal team. He was tasked with masquerading as an art historian since the Canadians with them couldn't sound like authentic Londoners. The non-prescription glasses he wore and the crisp British accent he perfected allowed him to dupe a few Iraqi guards, especially with his fluency with Arabic and his thoughtful acknowledgment of Jumu'ah, the Friday prayers.

While Erik pretended to sit aside respectfully on an offered prayer rug in the midst of an isolated bunker holding the goods they sought, his phony U.N. gear a bit too tight, the guards thanked him for respecting their time in contemplation of Allah. The beneficent. The merciful. Moments later they were tied up and blind-folded left shackled together in the interior of the ravaged bunker that hid the last of the priceless winged bull statues that were hidden for their protection. Erik did let them finish their prayers though.

Time wasn't wasted, what needed to be found was found and bagged up, the heavy weight of the gold bending the backs of five men carting it out onto phony U.N. Jeeps. On the wings of hummingbirds as his great-grandmother used to say when it came to speed and efficiency. An expert strategist and obsessive pre-planner, Erik facilitated the logistics and implementation of the entire operation. They had to be gone before dusk as the heavy hitters from various political factions began to roam. The dry heat was fucking exhausting, made breathing laborious, and the lack of sleep was messing with Erik's focus. His men were ready to dip, but he had to wait, had to take the chance that the man he was scouting for would show.

"Killmonger."

Tahir, the one man Erik considered as close of a so-called friend with the work that he did, stood next to him, his AK-47 resting on his hip, his tan and black shemagh covering his neck and head. Erik glanced up, his own shemagh twisting around his neck tight. He loosened it.

"We should probably leave while it is still quiet."

"Nah. We got time." Gruff and brusque. That's how Erik kept it with the men.

Tahir placed his left hand on his hip and glanced behind him. He was always the one sent to question Erik. The rest were afraid of him, afraid of his quick temper. Afraid of the self-inflicted keloid scars that covered most of his upper body.

Erik looked past Tahir, could see the only other two Iraqis, Amit, and Wassef eyeing him from their sniper positions. He could feel the eyes of the others on him, the Greek, the Egyptian, the two Jordanians, the Russian and the three Canadians. The rest were hidden with their two Mi-17's a quarter of a mile away among the bullet-ridden wreckage of left behind helicopters from failed wars inflicted by the U.S. military.

"We have the gold. Let's go get paid and have some drinks. We can be in Lebanon in a few hours, I know some pretty girls, some nice clubs…"

"We'll wait. I need to see if this dude shows," Erik said, softening his tone with Tahir.

"You should eat something."

"Later," Erik whispered as he saw the approach of the caravan he was looking for.

###

A smart mercenary always checked out their target before any engagement. Someone on Klaue's team didn't do their homework and Erik had the man in his crosshairs. Klaue was shorter and ruddier than he thought the man would be. His reputation seemed larger than life, but the reality was a bit of a disappointment. Little dick energy all the way around. He was also slipping because Erik knew for a fact that some of his men tipped Erik's team off to the coins in the abandoned bunker. Getting past I.E.D's, insurgents, and American PMC checkpoints, Klaue's people looked pretty sorry in front of their main man being plucked by Erik.

"Listen, Killmonger. We'll just be on our way. No harm, no foul," Klaue said as he sat on the ground looking up at Erik.

No harm no foul. Yeah, right. Klaue would take any opening to put a bullet in Erik's head, and in the dome of whoever allowed this clusterfuck on his side.

"We just came for statues," Klaue said.

"With what? Three S.U.V.s? You can't even fit the head of one statue in those. Come again."

Klaue's eyes grew suspicious. Just as Erik expected.

"We have the coins," Erik said.

Klaue let his head drop down and he chuckled, his gold-rimmed teeth glinting. The snake had to come up with a plan fast.

The rat-a-tat-tat-tat sound of machine gun fire in the distance caught Erik's attention. Time was up. It was time to set the trap for this man. Erik knelt down.

Takka takka!

The gunfire was ticking closer.

"Just take the fucking coins and let us go."

An AR-15 near him and Klaue wasn't even flinching. The sweat on his forehead was just from the heat. Erik flipped his weapon behind him.

"I don't give a fuck about those coins. My boss does. But I'm here for something more valuable and it's not here." Erik kept his voice low enough so that only Klaue could hear him.

Klaue's eyes observed him with keen curiosity.

Erik dipped closer to Klaue's ear lobe, making his own men nervous. Erik's sour breath warmed Klaue's ear.

"I'm looking for vibranium," Erik said. He sat back on his haunches and tapped the man's prosthetic left arm that was bound tight. Erik wasn't taking any chances. He was well aware that the arm was a dangerous weapon. Klaue could easily wipe them out, but he was a pursuer of information, and more than illicit goods, useful intel was golden. This bitch was squirming on the hook. None of these motherfuckers around them knew what vibranium was.

"Who are you?" Klaue said, his voice sounding like it was in awe.

"The stash that was supposed to be here isn't. I don't know who got to it first, but it wasn't you or me—"

SSssss-BLAM!

The RPG came in fast and destroyed the first S.U.V. in Klaue's entourage.

Erik's men returned fire for cover as Tahir radioed for their choppers to extract them and the gold. Erik grabbed Klaue by his collar and hoisted him up to his feet. Tahir threw a yellow smoke grenade and stood in front of Erik and Klaue.

The hard whop-whop sounds of their Mi-17s surrounded them as Wassef and Amit slung their RPGs on their shoulders and returned rocket grenades to buy them time. The first chopper landed and their surly Canadian side gunner Wally G rolled the chopper door open and waved for them frantically.

"We got incoming from the north," Wally G yelled.

Erik's men quickly loaded their bounty of gold and split up to enter both choppers for the extraction.

"Move your asses!" Wally G screamed.

Erik yanked on the handcuffed and rope-bound Klaue and dragged him over to the first Mi-17 and threw him in.

"Let's go!" Erik yelled propping his AR-15 in position to help protect his side gunners on the chopper. His return fire bought Tahir more time to move.

Amit fired one last RPG to protect Klaue's men. Erik sent most over to the second chopper, and once Amit jumped aboard the first Mi-17, Erik waved his arm and their pilot Elias took off.

A sizeable enemy force swept into where they once stood. The chopper Erik was on was picking up fire from everywhere. Erik shot back from the open door and he could hear Elias bitching from the cockpit.

"Why the fuck did you have us wait?" Elias screeched.

"Just fly the fucking bird!" Erik shouted while still returning fire.

A stream of fuel ran down the inside of the chopper’s windscreen.

"Fuck!" Elias yelled, "One of my feed tanks is out!"

"Jesus Christ!" a man screamed.

Erik looked back into the rear of the chopper, two of Klaue's men had been hit, the screams of the wounded mixing in with the rapid-fire babble of Erik's men trying to figure out their next move. They were outnumbered by the men on the ground and the number of vehicles chasing after the limping Mi-17.

They were spilling volumes of fuel.

"Stop fucking shooting!" Erik cried out. All he needed was for one of their bullets to ricochet and spark the fuel vapors filling up the chopper. They could explode in mid-air.

"I gotta put her down, Killmonger!"

Erik moved to the cockpit and grabbed the radio.

"Banks! Banks! We gotta find a clear LZ. We've been hit!"

"Dammit, Killmonger!" Banks fired back with crackled intensity through the radio speaker.

Erik and the others felt the sudden drop and swoop of the chopper as Elias did his best to make a soft landing.

Night had fallen and Erik's men disembarked with Klaue's men. Through it all, Klaue was cool as a cucumber, watching Erik's every move. Tahir, eased over to Erik, his eyes watching the horizon as vehicle lights traced them in the distance.

"Too many of us, we all won't fit," Tahir grumbled.

"I'll make it work," Erik hissed, his eyes thwarted by the flash and hiss of an enemy RPG.

"Incoming!" Tahir screamed, and the grenade blew up a mere two hundred feet from them tossing dark sand into the air.

The second chopper pilot, Banks, landed and they loaded up. They were more than the number of bodies allowed based on the flight manual. Erik pulled Klaue up by his arms.

"Crunching numbers time. Who do you fuck with and who did you dirty?" Erik asked.

"Killmonger!" Banks yelled.

The enemy was getting closer.

Klaue glared at his men, his eyes going to the three that Erik already knew played him. Erik gave a cruel sneer and cut Klaue loose from the rope that bound his arms.

"See ya!" Erik said giving Tahir a head nod. The men were pushed out of the chopper.

"Klaue!" one of them screamed.

"Let's go!" Erik shouted to Banks.

The Mi-17 lifted up and Klaue's traitorous men flailed their arms begging to be taken.

Erik heard the sharp hiss and loud explosion of an RPG down below.

He already knew those men were in bloody pieces now. His eyes glanced over at Klaue who was stuffed between two of his henchmen. Erik's boys watched them like hawks, but Erik wasn't worried about them trying anything. Their lives had been saved. If Erik and his crew weren't there, they would've been killed by turncoats. Gold coins were probably the last things on their minds as the Mi-17 dipped and swooped amid rocket grenades.

The chopper headed toward a remote airstrip.

Erik stared at Tahir and grabbed at his stomach.

"Yo, I'm hungry as fuck."

###

The mid-morning American Airlines flight touched down at the Cyril E. King Airport with a soft bounce. Walking down the ramp and onto the tarmac, the wet heat engulfed Erik's face. He wore a light cream-collared linen long-sleeve shirt and loose jeans. He always kept his arms covered when he traveled, his keloid markings too much of a distraction in public. His two large bags were waiting for him at guest services. His flight from Miami had been delayed because of tropical storm weather, but for some strange reason, his luggage went out on an earlier flight.

He saw one of Klaue's men holding a handwritten sign with his name on it. Killmonger. Erik waved and carried his things to the tall Black man with the clean-shaven face and dark mocha skin.

"I'm Polk," the man said. Polk was dressed in comfortable basketball shorts, a plain white t-shirt and slip on sandals. Vacation gear.

They shared a handshake and Erik followed him out to a nice burgundy Mazda S.U.V. idling with another burly man in the driver's seat.

"That's Huntsman," Polk said helping Erik put his suitcases in the trunk.

Huntsman regarded Erik cooly, his pale white skin sunburned and overly pink in spots as Erik stepped into the back of the Mazda.

"Welcome to the team," Huntsman said and Erik picked up the Afrikaans accent in his voice.

"Thanks," Erik said.

"You hungry? We can grab something on the way to the house," Polk said as he stared back at Erik from the passenger seat.

"Nah, I'm good," Erik said.

Erik had to orient himself to the driving once he realized St. Thomas residents drove on the left side like the English.

"We have our own cook, so if you do get hungry later, she can whip something up for you," Polk said. Erik nodded, his eyes watching the crowd of cars jammed on the two-lane road leading away from the airport.

The scenery eventually swept past as they drove into Charlotte Amalie. Erik saw the port dock that housed the large cruise ships, floating cities on the way up into the hills.

"You ever been to the islands before?" Polk asked.

"Nah. Never found the time," Erik said still staring out of the window.

St. Thomas was not very big, only thirty-two square miles. In about twenty minutes the car was already crawling into an area of hills that elevated them. Erik noticed quite a few green and multi-colored iguanas lounging in the street and meandering on the sides of the road.

"Harmless," Polk said when he noticed Erik staring at them, "they are everywhere. Think of them as the squirrels of the island."

Erik nodded.

"We're here," Huntsman said.

The Mazda entered a guarded gate. Once it was opened and they drove through, Erik realized they were actually on a compound that had a grouping of houses. They parked in front of the main house. Polk helped Erik with his things.

"I'll walk him down to our area," Polk said.

Erik rolled his heaviest suitcase and trailed Polk as they made their way down a path blooming with colorful foliage and crawling with more iguanas. One large iguana blocked their path and Erik looked at the regal creature. It was blue and pink in the face with a mottled pink and brown body that had what looked like green plant-like growths on it. It hissed and Polk had them walk around it with a wide berth.

"Harmless, but a bit of an attitude sometimes," Polk said.

Erik chuckled and soon found himself entering a tastefully furnished house.

"You can have the room on the right. When we get full, we usually have to bunk with people, but this first week there are only eight of us here, so plenty of room and privacy.

Erik nodded.

"I'll let you get settled. Meet us at the front house around 1 p.m.? Klaue will want to see you for lunch."

Erik nodded and Polk left him alone.

The room assigned to Erik was nice and airy. He opened the window across from his bed to bring in the fresh island air. Unpacking slowly and methodically, he organized his space and was happy that he had his own bathroom.

He took a quick shower to wash away the flight and travel sweat from his body. He touched the two new keloid scars under the waterproof bandage that his cousin Marisol helped place on his lower back the month before. They were healing, slowly, the itch and scarring pain still present. Lately, he had been flying to Sao Paulo Brazil more often, and Marisol was not happy to perform the scarring ritual for him anymore, especially when his visits brought her pain because they were short-lived, often only for two or three days and then he was gone to the next assignment. She knew what the marks were for. She had one on her own side hip that he helped put there for her.

He allowed the water to run over his locs and then tilted his head back, letting the cool liquid drench his beard. He was tired and antsy at the same time. He had to be very careful in the lion's den.

"What are you doing down here?"

The melodious voice startled him, it was so close to the small frosted window he cracked open in the bathroom, and he turned to try and see who was speaking.

Erik was about to answer, but then he realized the person wasn't talking to him at all but to someone else outside.

"What I tell you 'bout coming down here? Don't look at me like that. You stay up above. Hear me now?"

The woman's island voice was sweet, lyrical almost, and had the fussy quality that reminded him of his great-grandmother when she was fussing with his mother. Whoever she was addressing didn't answer.

"Jerome! You hear me. Get yourself back up top. Now!"

Erik heard the stomping of feet.

"What are you doin' making all this noise?"

Another woman's voice joined the first.

"Jerome. His wife and alla his pickney up at the front house waiting on him. And he's down here being nosey. Get!"

"Gyal! Leave that thing alone. Him no listen to all that shrillness comin' from your mouth. Like he'll understand you—"

"They understand me. When I told him to move his ass from the driveway before that devil man ran him over, you seen how fast he move. Him know what I say. Right, Jerome?"

Erik dried off and tried to get dressed in fresh clothes fast when he heard a knock on the front door.

"Inside," the voice of the second woman greeted him kindly.

Erik pulled on a pair of black sweats and opened the front door.

An older woman with graying neat plaits stared at his chest. The scars startled her.

"Sorry," she said averting her eyes. Her hands carried clean beach towels and sunblock.

"It's cool," Erik said. His eyes swept past her looking for the person he heard moments before.

"I'm Miss Leona. I do the cooking and help take care of the property. I came down to ask if you had any food allergies."

"No, I can eat anything."

"Good," she said, her eyes focusing on his face. The graying hair didn't seem to match her youthful face and big bright white teeth.

"Just so you know, bathroom etiquette is simple. If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. Use the bottled water for drinking, and all laundry can be done at the front house in the laundry room down below. There's a little apartment down there. Just drop the things you need to be cleaned in the laundry bag—"

"I can do my own laundry," Erik said.

Leona nodded and handed him the towels and sunblock.

"We have a pool at the middle house, and if you prefer sea water, there's a path by the pool that leads down to the private beach area. The water is very warm this season, and stays warm into the night."

Leona allowed her eyes to flit across his chest as she regarded his scars again.

"Is that…is that a condition? Do you need any creams or ointments? I can bring some—"

"I'm good. Thank you for asking."

"I don't mean to stare Mr. Killmonger. I have a nephew that has some tissue damage on his back, and it looks like that."

"No worries."

"I will leave you be then—"

"Who was the person you were talking to a minute ago? I heard someone else and she was talking to someone…Jerome?"

Leona laughed and pointed behind her.

"That was just Yani, my niece. She helps me out around here. She was just chatting with him."

Leona pointed and Erik saw the rainbow-colored iguana perched on a small tree in front of the house.

Erik smiled.

"I thought she was really talking to someone."

"Oh, she was. She and Jerome have a history together. She's known him since he was a baby. He doesn't listen to anyone but her."

"He's a big dude."

"Yes. But he won't bother you if you don't bother him. Get Yani if he does give you trouble."

"Will do. Thanks. How many houses are on the property?"

"Three. Mr. Klaue stays in the house down below. The two other houses are for his…men."

"Okay. Thanks Miss Leona."

"You're welcome. I will see you at lunch then? Mr. Klaue likes a late lunch, so I usually have things prepared by 1:30. Today will be a light sesame salad with salmon."

"Any local fish?"

"Sometimes. Mr. Klaue has me ship in things when he wants them. See you at lunch!"

Leona left him, and he was left standing in front of Jerome who watched him with wary eyes from his place in the tree.

"Don't make me call Yani on your ass," he said glaring at the iguana.

Erik finished dressing in a short-sleeved soccer shirt. He laced up a pair of New Balance sneakers and took a walk around the property.

He walked around the small pool that was only six feet deep and found the trail that led down to the beach. If Leona hadn't told him there was a path near the pool, he would never have found it. As it was, he felt secretive slipping down the hill and working his way to the sounds of open water.

"Whoa," he sighed when he finally found the entrance to a breathtaking sight. Clear water with soft sugary white sand and a beautiful view of an isolated smaller island further out in the sea. The sun beat down on him and he looked around to see if there was anyone else around. No one. It was quiet and hidden by part of a cove that had rock structures that curved away from where Erik stood. There were no other footprints or signs of any other human presence.

The water called to him.

Erik looked around again, then slipped off his shoes, pants, underwear and shirt. What a way to start his first day in paradise. He splashed into the water and it felt like he was crawling into the womb of life, the warmth cradling his tired limbs.

Paradise.

The place where he would plot against Klaue. Right in his own home.

###

Yani Galiber was always fussing with Jerome.

Ever since she rescued him from his first car accident as a baby when one of Klaue's drivers ran over his tail seven years previous. She had been fourteen and devastated, thinking her little friend would die. But then his tail grew back and she had been fussing with him ever since.

She was sent by her Aunt Leona to check the water cistern on Klaue's main house where he stayed. Sometimes an iguana would fall in and clog the waterway, and the man had been asking about water pressure. She made a point to check the roof gutters that helped collect water in case there was plant refuse or some other detritus stuck up there. When she ran into Jerome on the way back up, she noticed cuts on his skin. He must've been fighting the other male iguana that had moved into his territory. Unlike most of the iguanas around the property, Jerome was a drama queen and started trouble with other iguanas that weren't his children or mates, and sometimes he went after humans he didn't like.

After leaving her Aunt with Jerome, she headed back to the front house to grab a soda before her Aunt had her helping with lunch. She thought she may have time use her breast pump in private to fix her baby daughter Sydette's bottles for the evening when she had to go to work at her night job as a hostess at Havana Blue, a beach-front restaurant in the main part of Charlotte Amalie. Her cousin Monice would pick her up by 2:30 and drop her off at her Aunt Leona's apartment where she would spend time with Sydette before handing her over to her other cousin Twyla who would watch Sydette until Yani made it home to sleep. And depending on how busy Klaue kept her Aunt, Yani would travel back and forth to help work at the compound.

Yani cobbled together a life and set her sights on saving enough money to attend nursing school since her university plans of becoming a doctor had been derailed with the birth of her daughter. It was still a touchy subject with her parents who had allowed her to take a year off after she graduated high school to follow the crazy dream she had with her then-boyfriend Chez who was going to be the biggest rapper from St. Thomas after he was signed to a small record company in Miami.

Yani had sung background vocals for him around island clubs there and when they island hopped to Puerto Rico or Jamaica and as far as Trinidad. Chez was supposed to make it big and pay for Yani's education, but a year after graduating, Yani fell pregnant, she broke up with Chez, he lost the record contract due to a failed single not charting anywhere, and she was stuck living with her cousin and Aunt because she couldn't afford anywhere on her own and her parents didn't want the stigma in their home among her younger sisters. She was the tainted oldest child who had thrown her life away by having a baby with a SoundCloud level struggle rapper. For shame.

Her baby girl Sydette was a joy, but Yani found it difficult to nurse a baby and still try and nurse a medical career of some kind. A nurse was about as high as she could go now, and she set her sights on getting into the nursing college of her choice the following year. She just needed to get her money right to help take care of Sydette and tuition.

Klaue's compound was a way to make good money, especially when he had a lot of people there. Her Aunt Leona always made sure to pull her in to work for the under the table cash. Klaue paid well. The more men there, the more they made.

Yani and her Aunt were fully aware that Klaue was into some nefarious dealings. Even though he owned two jewelry stores, one in Charlotte Amalie, and one on St. John island, they were just legal fronts for some bad guy stuff. Leona didn't think they were drug dealers, but they did sell something illegal. Did something that required a private compound and sometimes armed guards when Klaue was gone. But as long as the money was good and they stayed out of the way when not needed, Yani had no problem working there. Her Aunt had been doing it for twelve years.

Yani took some time to slip into a bedroom in the front house with her breast pump. She filled three bottles and put them in a plastic bag inside the kitchen freezer to take home later for Sydette. Bottles made, she helped prepare lunch with her Aunt. All the houses were clean and prepped for Klaue's people, so Yani enjoyed the respite.

"What time are they eating, Auntie?"

"Mr. Klaue said around 1:30."

Yani washed her hands in the kitchen sink. She sneaked a nectarine from a bowl on the dining table.

"That's for the guests."

"They won't miss one piece of fruit."

"Where you goin'?"

"The beach—"

"Don't stay down there all day, Yani—"

"Just a quick dip. I promise."

"I'll need your help putting things out—"

"I'll be back. Quick, quick…" she said flouncing out of sight.

###

The path was a tiny sanctuary.

It felt like she was traveling into a secret garden.

Even though she grew up around water all her life, was nicknamed The Mermaid because of her love for it and knew practically every bay and cove on the island, there was something special about this small patch of land that led to this particular little private beach. Private only because the topography made it difficult for small boats to get to and tourists to walk without having to climb some terrain.

Klaue wasn't a swimmer, not all that much anyway, and his men never came down this way, so it was hers. Yaniland.

She ate the nectarine and began pulling her top off when she halted, fruit dangling between her teeth.

Someone was in her private paradise.

A man was swimming in her water.

She felt vexed until she walked closer.

He was floating naked on his back oblivious to her gawking at him full of irritation. He was spoiling her space. She pulled the fruit from her mouth.

"Hey! You out there! What are you doin' here?"

The man dunked under the crystal waters and when he came back up, he shook loose locs around the crown of his head.

Yani shielded her eyes.

"You talking to me?" he asked.

"You see anyone else here?"

"Why you so salty? You don't even know me, Ma!"

"Ma? You call me your mother? Do I look like your mother to you?"

"Relax Steve Irwin—"

"What you call me?"

"You the one talking to the iguana?"

"What iguana?"

"Earlier, up at the middle house…Jerome."

Yani scrunched up her face.

"How you know I talked to Jerome?"

"I was in the house. I'm the new guy."

"Killmonger?"

"Yeah."

"Who told you to come down here?"

"Your Aunt."

Yani sucked her teeth. It was loud enough for him to hear and he laughed at her.

"Is this your private beach?"

"No," she said folding her arms across her chest.

"Then I can swim here."

He moved in closer until the water was at his waist.

There were bumps all over his chest and waist, but none below…

Lookie.

His privates were distorted a bit from the sun's angle hitting the water, but she could see it closer. She felt her eyes fuse in her skull. She was staring at a naked man she didn't know.

"Were you planning on getting in? I can leave if you want some privacy."

"I was, but you can stay in…"

He looked down at himself then back at her.

"I'll leave—"

"Wait!"

Yani stepped back and her nectarine fell out of her hand.

"I don't want to make this weird for you. I'll leave first so you can swim or put your clothes on."

"Close your eyes. You walked all the way down here to enjoy yourself. I'll put on my stuff and let you have at it."

Yani closed her eyes and she heard the splash of water as the man left the sea.

"All good now," he said.

When she opened her eyes, he had his sweatpants on and held his shirt and shoes in his hands.

"Yani?" he asked.

"Yeah…"

She felt her voice die in her throat when she saw his bottom canines between his lips. She wasn't shy about staring at his scars. He was much taller than her.

Killmonger.

This was the man Klaue was bragging on the last two days. The man that Polk and Huntsman grumbled about at the dinner the previous night. It seemed Killmonger had favor with Klaue and those two brutes didn't like it so much. Yani had heard Huntsman call the man an ursurper. She expected to see some piggish white man with swine-like features and dragon fire spewing from his mouth. The only unsettling thing about him was the keloid scars. And only because they didn't look random at all nor accidental.

"You not hot wearing that on your head?" he asked.

Yani touched the top of her head. She still had her beanie on from earlier in the day. It had been cold that morning when she arrived. She wore a dark Naruto t-shirt and baggy orange sweats and just because he mentioned her head cover, she suddenly felt overheated wearing so much clothing on the beach. The heat was beating her down. She needed to be in the water. But she needed him to leave because she too liked to swim nude. But now that he knew about this place, she would probably have to change the times she came down. And she most definitely couldn't swim naked again while he was here. He was ruining everything.

She pulled her beanie off. Her scalp was grateful, her short buzz cut allowing the heat to toast the dyed blonde hair on her head.

"I'll go check on Jerome," he said.

Up close his voice had a playful raspy quality to it. His gold slugs peeked at her again when he smiled. He had dimples like her Sydette.

"Oh!" she said.

She wanted to grab her breasts when she felt her nipples leaking suddenly.

"What?" he asked, his face looking curious.

"I forgot something!"

She took off running back up to the front house clutching at her chest.

Leona was clearing space on the dining table for the lunch meal when Yani ran in.

"What's going on?"

"My titties are leaking."

"You're not wearing that special padded bra I bought for you? I got you four of those to help with that.

"I forgot," Yani called from the bathroom. She wiped down her nipples and stuffed tissue inside her bra to soak up anything else that decided to express itself from her tits. She couldn't wait for Sydette to be done with breastfeeding so her titty milk could dry up.

She walked out of the bathroom to find her Aunt talking to Killmonger and she felt her nipples acting up again. The tissue would have to work miracles.

Watching Killmonger converse she noticed how giddy her Aunt was acting with him. He was sweet with her, asking questions about the island, about her, what she did when she didn't work at the house. Before she knew it, lunch was ready and Killmonger was helping Leona bring the food to the table. Now he was taking over her job.

The other men arrived and Yani joined her Aunt in the kitchen to stay out of their way. Klaue sat at the head of the table with Killmonger by his side, and when she heard the new man speak again, she realized that her tits were reacting to his voice, her milk was leaking again. Only her baby could do that to her sometimes when she cried or needed something.

What the hell was this man doing to her?

She pressed her fingers against her nipples to push the tissue paper closer to her tips.

Who was he?

###

Smooth sun-kissed brown skin. Lips plump. Eyes big and bright. Eyebrows dark and thick.

Yani favored her Aunt and Erik found himself staring at her while he ate lunch with the men and Klaue.

One minute she was making him feel like he didn't belong in her space and the next he was watching her run away from him, her thick ass cheeks bouncing and making him think thoughts he had put aside. He hadn't been with a woman for about three months and quite frankly, hadn't missed the company because of all the work he had been doing. Once he hooked Klaue into his orbit, all Erik could think about was Wakanda and waiting for the perfect time to move on the East African nation.

She was young. This girl, Yani. Probably in her twenties. Mouthy. He liked that. Saw him naked and didn't give a fuck. Until he came closer to her. Then she became modest, probably for his sake and hers. A young woman like her around some treacherous men, she had to be careful.

He wasn't the only one peeping her in the kitchen at lunch. Huntsman was clocking her also. This bothered Erik. So openly wanton.

She was covered up looking like some skater punk he could see on any street corner back home, but she had some curves that strained against the sweatpants. Waist tight probably from swimming a lot. Full breasts. It was the blonde hair that made her dark eyebrows pop. Right now, those eyebrows were furrowed and she was looking right at him. Like she was still mad he had trespassed on her world. The girl who spoke affectionately to iguanas like they were human and yelled at him like he was a big lizard. Erik gave her a grin and she cut her eyes to look at her Aunt who was washing dishes.

By the time lunch was over, Yani was reaching into a refrigerator and grabbing a plastic bag and leaving the house for the day.

The rest of the day was a period of rest and acclimation.

Klaue didn't want to talk shop until the next day, and Erik was happy he could just wander the secure compound. He spotted security cameras everywhere. He learned that each house could be locked down from the inside and secured easily. Klaue called the estate "Our Lady's Manor", naming it after Leona who Klaue affectionately referred to as "My Lady" every chance he got. Leona didn't seem to mind, and she got on well with Klaue in that practiced way that Black people had when in the employ of white people. Klaue may have thought they were close, like family even by the way he fawned over her, but Leona was about her job and getting her work done as expeditiously as possible without getting in anyone's way. Friendly but distant. Smart woman. Klaue was not to be trusted. The presence of guns and ammo didn't faze her or Yani. Money was money.

Erik looked for Yani at dinner and she wasn't around for it. Gone for the rest of the night he assumed. He didn't want to ask Leona about her, afraid of making the older woman suspicious of him for asking about her young niece. He just wanted to let her know that he would be going to the beach early in the morning so that she could have her own personal beach time.

Erik slept well in his new room after smoking some decent herb that Polk gave him to tune out. When his alarm went off at five in the morning, he slipped into some light blue swim trunks and walked barefoot at dawn to the beach.

Body rested, mind clear and sharp, he felt like the wind had been punched out of him when he saw Yani in the water already.

Naked.

Water pearled down her cinnamon brown skin as if she wore diamonds in the early morning waves. Her hips flared out showcasing the beauty of her round posterior that flexed as she poured water over her head.

Once, when he was a child, Erik's mother had taken him to carnival in Sao Paulo and while standing next to his play cousin Marisol and holding his father's hand, Erik saw Yemanjá dancing on a float, the drums of Candomblé pounding in his ears, his little hips moving in time to the rhythm. He thought the woman on the float dressed in gauzy blue scarves was a real Goddess and his mother gently corrected him and explained that she was a representation. That first sensation, the tangible feeling of his heart bursting wide open to make room for the orixá of the sea had stayed with him for a long time. That woman long ago may have been a false divinity, and he could be forgiven for making the mistake with the eyes of a child. But he was a man now, and the being before him splashing in the warm sea was real and divine. Black deities were real. She was in front of him. Yemanjá. He had to be near her.

He shucked his trunks and took his time approaching her.

She dived under the water and he felt that his heart would break if she didn't come back up, wouldn't be surprised at all if she didn't return to the surface, but he needed to see her eyes, needed to make sure she was real.

He stopped short when a small wave crashed into his chest and he allowed himself to be swept with it.

Yani popped back to the surface wiping her hand over her face. She didn't jump or cry out when she saw him wading in the water, didn't try to shield her breasts or the neatly clipped bikini area of her sex, her vulva pouty and rounded, the split between her legs making his dick jump. She was a true ethereal vision and the reverence in his eyes must've stalled any thoughts she may have had of him being a weirdo coming for her.

"Killmonger," she said with no trepidation in her voice, "I see this is going to be a problem, no?"

"Erik," he whispered, trying to find his own voice, "my name is Erik."

[Part 1]

[Part 2]  [Part 3]  [Part 4]  [Part 5]  [Part 6]

Tag List:

@fonville-designs​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow @janelledarling

[akiwisfics]

In the Middle Chapter 8

Notes: No longer a crosspost, technically, but chapter already written. If you get annoyed by this, please savior ‘kiwi crossposts’ to save your eyes.

Description:  The war's over, but the mess is still left behind. Kasumi finds herself among the wreckage with unexpected companions and questions that seem almost impossible to answer for. Life keeps moving forward, however, and the surprises it leaves behind aren't always pleasant ones.

Pairing: KasumixSha’ira

--

Kasumi was never a cook. Oh she craved good food like anyone that had the taste of fine life, fine wine-- an opportunity to know the difference between a perfect cut of perfect temperature of steak to scraps left behind from a meal between bored batarian slavers more concerned with profits than artistry and fine dining. But she didn’t have the chance to know how to make it herself. Not surprisingly-- she was a child when she was taken, and by the time that she was freed of her shackles, she was more concerned with the constant burning and itching  at the back of her skull than the differences of various fish filets.

Ah, but soon, she would taste riches, and sometimes, it enraptured her in a way that only art came close to.

But the richest of the rich didn’t know either. They couldn’t until that food was taken from them. No doubt many of those old blood capitalists and tyrants craved now, now that the old system was gone. 

She enjoyed taking samples when she crashed dinner parties, flirting with the idea of being among their elite and making people guess how and where they had seen her before. It was part of the fun. She learned the differences and specifics of turian, asari, quarian cuisine-- the history of different cuts and fishes that once passed alien hands in their own celebrations. She would say it was for research, to keep the guessing game going, but well.

Nothing compared to her grandmother’s cooking.

They only knew each other for about a month or so before she passed, when Kasumi was trying to figure out how to be human in the deepest dark of her despair. At times, she thought on the time and wished she’d been kinder. Spoke more, shared love and affection with her grandmother and aunt more freely. But she hadn’t known how to do it, not after losing someone so tremendous so recently. 

But every day, her grandmother would pull her from the reaches and into their tiny apartment kitchen, the thick smell of salty broth and noodles pulling her back into reality. The mere reminder of it could make Kasumi’s mouth water-- rich, melting in her mouth, leaving a soft warmth behind in her chest.

She would find out over time more specifics of what she made. It was a style of miso ramen, made specifically for the harsh winters in Japan’s northern region. Her grandmother had a restaurant for a time on Earth before moving her family to the Citadel after humanity discovered the Mass Relays and made contact with the rest of the galaxy. She had tried running a few shops there in the Wards, but had retired early to help the family adjust to life in space. 

Her grandmother served them ramen in two large, expensive bowls, chopsticks and spoon-- as was traditional back home. Kasumi would get a fork the first week until she learned how to move the chopsticks with ease (it wasn’t much different than any other work she did honestly; a little practice and a little deft work and it was done). The broth-- a thick combination of miso and fish-- easily overtook the small space between them as it soaked rich wheat noodles. Her grandmother claimed the sliced pork inside was fresh, even if that was probably impossible, topped with sweet corn, sprouts, and plenty of garlic. If she was really lucky, there would be a sliced boiled egg floating on top.

It was divine. A true labor of love each and every day. 

“You’re starting to get some meat on your bones.” Her grandmother had a sharp eye too. She could see the resemblance between them. Thick brown eyes that had been hers once, the same nose and round jaw. Her hair had lengthened well past her shoulders after decades, though Kasumi rarely saw it free from the loose bun she wrapped it in. Much the same reason she had kept her own short-- easy and out of the way of work.

She had carried her age with grace, and in her most optimistic moods, she had imagined herself looking much the same, perhaps with a grandchild of her own lingering in the kitchen, waiting for the ramen to soak like she so often did. 

30 short days, and yet they seemed to have known each other for years.

“Nanami?”

She had looked over the bowl of steam, mirroring a smile that she knew now was a family trait. “Sorry, I just--”

“What were the colonies like?”

Kasumi hadn’t known. What specks of memories she still had about her first home weren’t concrete enough to give. There was similar thick aromas in her father’s kitchen, late nights where her mother returned home covered in oil and grime. Fights and games shared with her sister. A bundle of blankets tightly wrapping around a baby boy, keeping him warm and secured. 

The mines and fields she worked after weren’t colonies. Not the romanticized ones so often advertised over the vids. Sometimes it sickened her so badly that she had to switch the channel-- something that hadn’t been lost by the other two occupants in the home.

“Mom and Dad were happy,” she said instead.

“I don’t doubt it. They would be happy to see us all here again.”

She could’ve asked a million things. What were they like? Why did they go out into the colonies in the first place? Had she kept contact? Questions that another day, another season, Kasumi would have been happy to be occupied in finding out, but as it stood, she was hurting, and as it stood, they never asked her how she came to be there.

She’d been afraid then. Unfortunately for her grandmother, the geth would find her before Kasumi had the strength to ask.

--

Dark fell quickly over their campsite-- clear as the day had been with leftover spring warmth that made it easy for her group members to stay out longer than usually. Many of them mingled awkwardly with their salarian counterparts, though fewer in number as the day wore on. If Kasumi had to guess, they were moving their camp closer. Strength in numbers. Their preoccupation would make it easy to get out, though increased her chances in running into a member or two later on in her venture.

The sea of stars above was stunning with constellations and lights that likely hadn’t been seen on London soil in decades, freed of manmade pollution and electricity. If she had time, it wouldn’t be so bad to make her way to a mostly intact building or two to stargaze. How much time she would actually have though entirely depended on how urgent someone would be to find her though. How much Major Kirrahe actually trusted her to behave.

Considering she was in her catsuit already, the lack of trust was right, however irritating it might have been. It wasn’t as if she trusted any of the STG either. Still, the catsuit felt nice after so long, fitted perfectly and adjusted for whatever tumbles and climbs she would need to make throughout her trip. 

No one was keeping a close eye to her tent. Big mistake. She activated her cloaking immediately and kept her steps quiet as she made her exit. The heavy darkness and night that blanketed the rest of the empty streets was felt immediately as soon as she crossed the perimeter, but the stars and moon were perfect for the occasion. Just enough light to help guide her way. 

There were lots of little signs of life along the way. Nests of different finch birds, a quick sonata of crickets somewhere in the distance-- out of sight and out of mind. She could see holes dug in on old gods where animals tried to make them home. Plants, grass, weeds worming their way through the cracks of broken concrete. The art that would be inspired by this wonderful rejuvenation would be wonderful to see.

The smoke that permeated so much of the asphalt seemed to fade just a bit once she did reach the graffiti wall again, as if the world was also calming down the further she left her little pocket of civilization. There weren’t any more names left on the wall, though the fact hadn’t surprised her. From here, her and Sha’ira had gone about a half-block down, over the fallen reaper. It would be a tight squeeze still, but she could move faster without someone trailing behind. She really should get something to thank the consort. Though Kasumi wasn’t sure what all could be found that was… luxurious in the ruins, there may have been a nook or cranny or two that the Alliance hadn’t touched yet--

And oh. Her omni-tool was beeping. She let the cloak fall for now as she recognized the name on the other end. Just the girl she wanted to talk to.

“Evening!” Kasumi answered into her ear piece, eyes keeping watch of the area around her. Just in case. “I thought you might be asleep already.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have called at all if you thought that.” Khalisah’s voice was groggy. She felt sort of honored that she would wake up just for little ol’ Kasumi. “If this is about the murders, I already planned on moving my camp in the morning. But you know if I get close, STG will be on my ass within minutes.”

Kasumi ignored it. “Do you know about the other groups around here?”

The hissing sigh on the other end was long and exasperated, but she heard her rustling through her belongings, grumbling the entire time. “My notes are around here, hold on… Couldn’t you just ask for this when it’s not in the middle of the night?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You fucking suck,” but there wasn’t as much bite as there was usually. Kasumi smiled. She heard pages (paper? Oh how old-school) being quickly flipped through before Khalisah finally spoke again. “There’s another volunteer group southwest from you guys? Pretty much the same. Only thing that stood out was an older guy with half his face scarred to shit.”

“Yellow armor? Real terminus system vibe to it?” Not ideal, but if Zaeed was close, he might be bored enough to lend a hand. Security detail for a volunteer group seemed a bit low energy for him, but maybe their benefactor had about as much credit as theirs did. 

“Yeah. Figures you’d know the only other shady person in the area.”

“Be nice. He’s just cranky, usually.” And had a lot of guns and explosives on hand. He also was real handy with booby traps. If she could get her hands on another proximity mine, he could tell her something that she wouldn’t know already. Especially if their batarian neighbors were more mercenary than refugee. “Could you do me a favor?”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know what blackmail means, Ms. Goto.”

“I could’ve just let the batarians kill you, you know,” she teased. Good-naturedly. Promise.

Khalisah sighed. “Fine, fine. Whatever. What do you want?”

“Be happy. I was going to keep you up for the night before you told me that,” and suppressed a snort when she heard the snarl. “Make sure it’s Zaeed Massani, of course. And if you would, ask him to come by my camp tomorrow… morning is probably good. Before the others wake up.”

“What? You want me to wake up an angry mercenary now? I’m sure he’ll love the camera light in his face.”

“I have his channel. Assuming he hasn’t changed it anyway.”

“Then call him yourself!”

And risk him getting worked up without confirming anything? Clearly the woman hadn’t worked with many mercenaries before. Kasumi tsked. “I’m busy--”

“So was I. Sleeping!”

“Just send a nice, friendly email saying… ah.” Hmm. What should it say actually? If he was early, she wouldn’t exactly want him asking for her directly. Sure, it was about a 50-50 shot on finding someone that knew who she was at camp at this point, but Zaeed wasn’t exactly quiet. “Tell him Ms. Goto’s looking for him at camp, and if he doesn’t see me, just ask for Sha’ira or Kirrahe. Then wait til I get there.”

“And he’ll just go?”

“If you’re that worried, you’re welcomed to toss 500 credits down for me. Money does talk.”

She hung up on her instead. Rude. Kasumi was going to offer to pay her back, but maybe the message came off a bit strongly. She still sent a quick message off with his channel information, in case the reporter did decide to follow through on the request. If not, he probably wouldn’t be hard to find. Guess she couldn’t fault her for getting antsy though. Since their deal was made, Kasumi hadn’t actually followed through with anything, though in her defense, she was spending that time warning her instead. 

It could and would wait for now though. She reactivated her cloaking device and continued her trek toward the murder scene, mentally wording whatever apology email she’d need to make to Khalisah later along the way. The hushed landscape made it easy to concentrate on it, disappointingly absent of any tracks or evidence of others that may have passed through in the meantime. 

If this was newly staked batarian territory, they weren’t using obvious wider paths. Either they didn’t want to be found, or were acutely aware of the possibility of someone tracking them. Could be both, or neither. 

She shimmied around the dead god’s head, and found little had changed in the last few days. It was still a clearing, shadowed by crumbled buildings, half-shapened concrete blocks-- debris of either the buildings around them or elsewhere. She had spent plenty of days memorizing the reach of reaper lasers and various weaponry for the many, many runs she did for the Alliance. Sometimes, the fact that they had won at all still seemed utterly surreal. They were creatures perfectly suited for Lovecraftian lore, hulking, massive creatures  that extended and did things beyond human imagination.

And yet… they were like any other piece of machinery. Artificial, metal, wires. A very scary thought, that over the years, they wouldn’t just dispose of the pieces, but reuse them. Shape something new out of it. With any luck, Kasumi would be dead before that bit humanity in the ass.

She shook those thoughts away and located the alleyway from before. There was still a blackened spot from where the proximity mine had gone off, stretching out like tendrils toward the slab that Kasumi landed on. Noticeably, however, was that any shrapnel had been picked up. The slab looked clean and dusted off. Someone was trying to cover their tracks.

Just at her feet, another red light stretched across the width of the alleyway. It was so easy to spot now that there was evidence of a previous detonation. It wasn’t meant as a trap then. More like a security measure. The sound would be picked up by any guards in the area, allowing them to retaliate to whoever wasn’t hurt by the mine, or move the group before they were found. Their camp may be close by then, if they hadn’t been spooked by their visitation from the other day.  

Nothing special. Kasumi had disabled hundreds of mines in her lifetime. A quick scan of her omni-tool and it short-circuited, allowing her to pick up the mine safely and quietly. Initial look and it seemed… simple. Looked to be scrapped together with various shrapnel from old signs if she had to guess. The circuitry of the actual proximity program would be hard to see without opening it up, but she doubted there was anything unique about it. The maker was experienced, that much Kasumi was sure. If they had any resources from outside Earth however, it was probably gone by now.

She kept it for now, and made sure to study the alley closely for anymore. None on this side. Rationing carefully then, or just that confident in whatever guards they had in the area to act quickly. 

The alley opened up to an even larger clearing than the one before, in what Kasumi could only figure was a rather nice square before. There was still remnants of old cobblestone, ones that had been there centuries and lived through more wars than she could count. Street ways that had been there once, brushed over by dirt and grime, cracked into pieces where weeds and grass sprouted in between. The fountain in the middle was in about the same shape, once wondrous and calming, spouting water from a jar a… cherub perhaps? Was holding into a pool that had been empty for some time. Much of the smaller details were lost by the throes of time and war. The curvature of marble surrounding it still stood enough to be a tempting seat for weary walkers.

Likely why she found the spatter of dried blue blood on its rim. Sura mentioned Thyra wasn’t much for walking for long periods. Yet she managed to dodge the proximity mine…?

The east entrance was blocked by a section of broken highway, but the west was clear enough to come through it looked like. She doubted their killer would cover the alleyway and not such a wide berth of area. Too wide for a simple proximity trip though. Perhaps more traditional mines? Kasumi would have to check as she investigated then. A good thing Major gave her mods back.

Well, presumably she died there, unless there was another turian victim in the interim. That narrowed the scope a bit. A sniper would want the highest building they could get. Probably wasn’t any building on the other side of the fountain. Then…

Ah. A parking deck about a 60 degree angle. It was a good place to start, though maybe not the easiest to climb. It was structurally sound, and compared to most parking decks found in say the Citadels or Illium, wasn’t too high. Most parking decks on Earth had been converted to top level access only once skycars became commonplace. Valets would take over parking once an individual skycar landed on the roof, and would be retrieved by the valet when the visitor returned. 

However, employees and visitors still needed an entrance on the ground level. That would be the place to start. She brought up her omni-tool once again to scan the area between the fountain and the parking deck, but kept her eyes on the rooftops and upper levels just in case. No obvious red lights, and a glint of armor would be difficult to spot in the moonlight. She couldn’t see any signs of smoke ventilation or fire, but toward the very top, it looked like there was… haphazard plating maybe? Someone covering holes that were left from various skirmishes. The metal didn’t fit the rest of the building. Where she’d find her camp then.

And no mines based on the scan. Made sense if they have kids or just regular people with them. That lended credence to what Darshan had told them before about it being a settlement. Mines were also extensive to maintain and keep from dumb mercenaries from accidentally killing themselves though. They could just have them installed along the openings. If they had a shuttle or skycar handy, they wouldn’t have to walk out of the clearing ever, though to rely on enough clearance to land was risky in a ruined city. 

The actual entrance facing the square looked caved in sadly, but after a few minutes circling the building, she noticed a discreet sheet of metal ever so slightly askewed. A very small crack in the corner. Peeking inside only showed a thick blanket of darkness within. Could be wearing night vision goggles, but more than likely, the lower level here was unguarded. No obvious signs of tampering for a trap or bomb of some kind. With careful hands, Kasumi peeled the metal back.

Sure enough, no guns suddenly pointed in her direction. Risky to leave their entrance unmanned. If they had a sniper on the roof though, they may have noticed the metal moving. So long as she was careful though, they wouldn’t find her. Any explosive trap was unlikely at this point, unless they wanted to risk blowing the support beams with it. They were left mostly intact, but if Kasumi studied close enough, she’d see the beginning cracks of wear and tear. 

Most of the skycars inside were gutted and cut open, eviscerated of their wiring and circuitry. Where they were getting the shrapnel to make the bombs then. Smart. They had enough there to last them a good while. There was a ramp further back, though it took some climbing to get to it. 

Mostly climbing over corpses. Not human, at least… not anymore. The wiring that stuck out of rotting flesh told her exactly what sort of things that were littering this parking deck. … It looked like they were being gutted too. She hoped just for the wires and not… anything else. Husks and cannibals mostly, one brute that she nearly tripped over as she navigated the darkness, it’s jawless turian skull another of plenty of images that she really, really wished wouldn’t be haunting her to her grave.

She had dreams about it sometimes. Sometimes of being forced onto one of many pikes, feeling it rip through her chest and continue to breathe and survive until she was more metal than bone, more wire than flesh. Other times, it wasn’t the reapers. Other times, it was Cerberus. Finding her again, trying to entice her with a contract, only to--

Oh. Hm. Rudimentary, but effective when electricity wasn’t always available. A simple wire strewn across the bottom of the ramp. Likely went up further to the higher levels. Properly paranoid, then. Kasumi could respect it. She had been fortunate to keep several back up generators for her various security systems at both locations that survived the invasion. She stepped over the wire easily, and then noticed the lone light further up the ramp, stretching long and lonely on the asphalt.

Though the cloak would keep her from being spotted, Kasumi still kept to the outer wall, eying the ground carefully for any scattered rocks or pebbles-- anything that might give away her presence to the guard above. The catsuit wasn’t just for style, fortunately, equipped with various sound dampeners from the padding to her shoulders to the soles of her shoes. A listless guard or two would have a hard time picking up muffled steps.

Just one it seemed. Batarian, as Darshan said. He looked younger, fuller face on him with scuffed up navy armor. The vindicator loose in his hands was in good shape, a couple of mods that focused on power and increased ammo in the thermal clip. Trying to make the best out of every shot it seemed. He sat on an old lawn chair with a flashlight by his feet, the harsh shadows making him seem more intimidating than he actually was. Even from her distance though, Kasumi could see those dark eyes drooping, just a minute or so from dozing off. She slipped past him easily.

Fewer corpses on this level, and she doubted she’d seen any on the next. They were making it a home for themselves clearly. Two more batarians sat on crates around a campfire west from their sleepy friend, conversing to themselves. No tents, but sleeping bags it looked like. She ducked behind a gutted car and tried to listen in.

“Dinner was rough tonight.”

“We’re running low on rations. It’d be nice to go out and actually hunt soon, but…”

“Yeah, I get it. At least the salarian had some nice shit on him--”

“Dumbass, that’s precisely why. You saw the datapads in there yourself!”

Sounded like the STG murder was an accident then. They had plenty of resources as far as scrap metal and wiring went here, so why were they bothering with that? Medical and food supplies maybe? Information would’ve been an obvious decision if it’d been on purpose, but.

“... What are we going to do…?”

“... Just let boss work it out. Everything will be fine, Sakul... alright?”

“Guess we don’t have much choice.”

Didn’t seem worse than the run-of-the-mill mercenary group then. Inconsistent armors, so not likely to be from any major organization or anything. She would be reluctant to just kill a bunch of dumb people for the whole mess, but STG would likely disagree. And they weren’t exactly innocent. They hadn’t regretted Thyra’s death. Not yet anyway. 

They would soon enough though. She crept past their campfire with as much ease and stepped over another wire alarm as she continued her trek up. All too quickly, the dim light that was swallowed by the darkness above. Quiet, too temptingly so. She made sure to wait long enough for her vision to adjust to the change in light. As Kasumi suspected, there weren’t any reaper remnants on this floor. The batarians were doing some clean up, at least. With as much work as they’ve done with their security systems, it wouldn’t surprise her if they planned to stay for a while.

She spotted a glint in the darkness though, off in the corner. A quick flash of her omni-tool and she recognized the turret installed there. Seemed to be turned off though. After a few minutes of menial work, taking and pocketing a wire or two, and Kasumi made sure it would stay that way. 

The fourth and fifth floor were set up much the same, blanketed completely in darkness with a few turrets stationed in various corners and hiding spots. It confirmed that the group was small at least, and the area was too large to cover with manual resources. Sneaking past was hardly a challenge, but she hadn’t had one in a while. Not in the technical aspects anyway. Still, it felt… nice going back to normal for her. She really wasn’t suited for civilian life. Too much monotony and people were just strange. Or hurt to see them.

She wasn’t sure how Sha’ira thought she would be okay with it. Being a consort wasn’t nearly as violent or illegal as her job, but it wasn’t normal either. It wasn’t the 9-5, or just trying to pick up the pieces with family and friends. She was meant for something. 

Maybe they could talk about it later. Maybe it would get the consort from prying too much about the greybox. 

She finally found the camp on the sixth level, just one floor short from the roof. Kasumi could understand the choice. The enclosed space protected them from exposure and the higher elevation kept them from running into vermin species that likely still scurried around London streets. Any lights had long since been extinguished by the time she arrived, save for the campfire that was still glowing brightly, right in the center of the halo of tents. They were close together-- any sound from one would obviously carry to others. 

More batarian guards sitting at the actual fire, too quiet to hear as she watched on the outskirts of the camp. While tempting to listen in on their conversation, it was probably too risky with the amount of tents that were around. By her estimate, there were about 20 or so located in the tents themselves-- a rather large camp for as decimated the hegemony had been by the war. 

She crept along the edge of the camp, hugging the makeshift walls facing the square and the outer walls of the tents. No one would likely pick up any movement at this late from within, but Kasumi wasn’t one to overstay her welcome. The firelight danced lazily against the white, offering brief flickers of shadows inside. Most didn’t have cots or personal effects, it looked like-- sleeping on simple bags or pallets made out of well worn blankets and pillows.

Smaller shapes, others a more feminine contour. Women, children. Not many, but enough. Their tents were closer to the fire, to keep the little ones from getting cold at night. 

… Darshan’s story checked out then. That was going to make this a lot more complicated. STG specialized in extraction though, missions especially like this. While she would have trouble kidnapping someone tonight, perhaps they had a few suggestions that wouldn’t end in unnecessary bloodshed. Or they wouldn’t care-- though Major Kirrahe didn’t strike her as cold. 

The other option of course, would be to take care of the sniper herself. She knew how to make it clean and efficient enough-- perhaps frame the scene as an accident to avoid backlash from the batarians. They were already a bit flighty, considering they murdered one person for just going into their territory. … They might put the blame on STG if she did do it though. If they kept them busy for a while,  it would give her the opportunity to get the logs they had on her and destroy them. Hmm. Didn’t exactly avoid the whole bloodshed thing, but, ah shit. Samara knew she was coming out here tonight.

She would have to meet this sniper and go from there, she supposed. 

Kasumi slipped past the camp, it’s final tent about ten feet or so from the ramp that led up to the roof. She was surprised to see that it was in as good of shape as it was. There was some crumbling along the edges, faded lane paint, but it had little in way of debris. If not for her dampeners, her steps would probably echo on such an empty expanse. The moonlight was bright and clear in the sky above, crescent with all the stars and constellations she had admired before. The view of the city alone must be spectacular. It wouldn’t be so bad as a dating spot, honestly. 

One last wire alarm at the top of the ramp, easily stepped over. The roof had been cleaned up about as well as the lower floors it looked like. A skycar or two that had yet been cleaned of materials. A decrepit alcove where steps were before, now resembling more like a jagged spike sprouting on the pavement. 

Her target was laying on their belly, the concrete rim cleared away to allow the sniper rifle freedom of movement. They had a pale lavender sheet over them to stave off the cold. As Kasumi approached, more personal touches became clearer. They had a flashlight off to the side, keeping them illuminated for any other snipers that could be stationed on neighboring buildings. Stench of overcooked varren meat from a plate left abandoned on the hood of a skycar cleaved in two from a reaper beam. Canteen by the front fender. Yellow tulips beside it. Cute.

By their feet, she recognized the model of the sniper rifle. Standard M-98 Mantis, though the scope looked modded for extended range. Whoever was handling their weapons was very familiar with the modding process. Taking it might have some advantages, but she would need to distract the actual gunman holding it. 

She retreated back, and careful not to alert the guard, picked up the canteen. With a quick under-handed toss, she chucked the canteen closer to the ramp, clinking against the hard ground and denting the well-worn equipment further. She ducked around the other side of the cleaved car, just as the sniper’s head shot up.

“What the fuck?!” 

He looked young too. Small. Smaller than the first guard she ran into on the way up the deck. He had plenty of fat left on his cheeks, not quite developing the small hairs and thick folds that signified adulthood in a batarian. The armor, a deep olive green, barely fit him as he stood to his feet and approached the canteen cautiously. His steps were heavy on the pavement, but he stumbled on every third. 

Just the rifle then. Kasumi moved quickly and quietly to his nest. The rifle was easy to swipe from underneath the sheets, same weight as a typical mantis. She folded it to its resting position, ready to holster it to her back.

Then she heard ringing. Her eyes snapped to the ramp, where the boy had bent over and tugged at the wire with two fingers. Then his eyes caught on hers-- or more likely-- the sniper rifle that appeared to be floating in the air. 

She was too greedy for her own good sometimes.

The young batarian kicked off in a sprint toward her position, fast, but only fists raised. Should be easy enough to incapacitate him and split, but now the batarians would know someone came by. She would have to make this quick. She snapped the sniper rifle to her back and stood, quickly reaching for a flashbang grenade in her back pocket. It’d disorient him and hurt, but--

She thought it was a lunge at first, clearly on a fight response already, but as she saw the sheer panic in his eyes as the momentum took him past her, Kasumi realized he tripped over his own shoes. On his own shoes toward the edge. Without thinking, she snapped a hand out, tightly gripping onto the back of his chest armor, one foot dangling in the open air of the square below. 

“I’ve got you,” she hushed as she noticed his slacked jaw as he stared down. His panicked panting, just at the edge of a scream, wasn’t helping matters any. He looked to the empty space holding him up, already too big eyes comically larger in his panic. Just a kid. Any other time, he may not have even known how to use the rifle she’d stolen from him. 

She released the cloak as she brought him closer, back onto safer ground, just as his ear piece crackled to life.

“Hey. We heard the cans from the roof. Everything alright?” much older voice on the other end. Either one of the more veteran guards on the lower floors or maybe Mr. Boss himself.

She pressed a finger to her own lips, “Just want to talk. Don’t do anything that’ll hurt someone. Especially you.”

The boy looked behind him, to the open air he had been just a split second from tumbling into, and just to emphasize her point, she tightened the grip on his collar, locking it tightly in her fingers. He gulped, visibly. “... Everything’s fine. Just accidentally tripped it dropping my canteen.”

“Be more careful, will you? Had about half the building in a panic.”

“S-sorry.”

The communication cut off, and Kasumi released him. His shoulders sagged immediately, though looked a bit lost now without the rifle in his hands. He kept looking at it on her back, as if trying to decide how to pry it off. “... What-- who are you?” though he kept his voice quiet. Smart.

She shrugged. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. How old are you?”

The boy hesitated before sitting down on the lavender sheet, rubbing the back of his neck. It looked a bit too warm for spring, with wool like texture. Maybe they nabbed it in the city somewhere. Kasumi was half-tempted to ask where they got it. “... 13.” His eyes wouldn’t meet her, even under the shade of her hood.

“Bit young to be killing people, isn’t it?” Still, she sat down across from him, trying to keep him calmed down, keep him from alerting those below. “How long have you been using this rifle?”

“What’s it to you?” He pressed on his ear piece, but Kasumi quickly held a finger up, tsking.

“Let’s not do that,” and she flashed her omni-tool, just enough to illustrate her point. “Overloading comms can knock out your hearing for a long time.” The boy deflated, arm loosely dropping, knuckles slightly scraping against the concrete. “I appreciate it. And really, I’m not trying to cause trouble. Just need to get a few details before I go.”

“About what?”

“Oh, just a couple things, really. Are you always the one manning this roof?”

“... Me or my dad. We take turns.”

“Do you remember a turian girl that came by a few days ago? Was it your dad that shot her?”

“... Oh…” He turned away from her, stretching out on the blanket as he peered over the edge. Back to her-- one of the worst things anyone could do in the terminus systems. He hadn’t been raised in the worst of it then. “... Figures you’d come for that.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not the worst of it, but I can keep your dad out of trouble,” she tilted her head, trying to catch his gaze. “You don’t have to protect him, and if you can convince him to--”

“I shot her.”

She was afraid he’d say that. On the bright side, STG would handle it better than the Alliance would, she’d imagine. They were a calculating bunch, but they didn’t have as much history as humanity did with them. It churned her stomach to even consider putting some teen in handcuffs though, not when he was just trying to protect his family. “I’m sorry. That’s a lot to put on you. Was that your first time?”

He finally looked at her, and the fragility behind his heavy gaze broke her heart. “... The wind’s different here than back home. I just meant to scare her off…”

“No one’s perfect.”

“... You’re weird for a human.” Still, he seemed pretty calm, and no one else had noticed her yet. Kasumi had located her suspect, but the others didn’t have to know, did they? “Dad said I need to be more careful. Batarians always get the bad rap, so we have to assume the worst and behave the best.”

“He sounds like a smart man,” ah but the fact that he was still alive, “Was he… well, you know.”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “He learned his lesson, if that’s what you’re asking. Said a-- a miskha -- a monster, I think is what you guys say? … Roughed him up real badly. He can’t really move much anymore, so we use sniper rifles instead.”

She’d heard that word before, though from where Kasumi couldn’t quite place. Legends from her old masters perhaps, horror stories they’d share with one another around the campfire as the varrens nipped at her heels and the whispers tugged and pulled at her. It wasn’t a kind word. Heavier than monster. Like a beast, beyond comprehension. 

“... Thank you,” Kasumi said and stood. She had plenty enough to think in any case. Easier to target the dad then. Easier to spin a former slaver back in the business, or… just trying to survive. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t nice. But she would take a former slaver’s blood over a kid’s any day. 

“Ma’am?” He called after a moment, just before she could really make the move to leave. “... What are you going to do now?”

Talk with Zaeed. See if he had any experience framing someone for murder. It wouldn’t do him any comfort. Telling him the truth, or even bringing up the STG would just hurt him. “Couple more passes around the neighborhood, I guess~. Night’s still young.” She stretched her arms, ready to switch the cloak back on, then heard the click of a heavy pistol behind her.

Oh, kid. Don’t do this. She offered a placid smile as she glanced to his hands. Carnifex, standard model. It was a favorite of hers back on the Normandy. Unfortunately for him, she had assembled and disassembled, modded, and overloaded far too many to be worried about it pointed at her face. 

“You’re gonna tell those salarians right? … I’m gonna die.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Don’t.”

Finger too close to the trigger. She sighed and swiped her omni-tool quickly, efficiently. Kasumi had done it hundreds of times at this point. Just a second delay, almost where the boy was squeezing the trigger, before the carnifex sparked and exploded in his hands. 

The jolt of electricity and fire was quick and immediate. The boy screamed out in pain as he threw the pistol aside. The charred, burning flesh nauseated her, a stench that had permeated constantly throughout the war. Please. Let it be enough. 

He dug his heel and charged her. Kasumi braced for the weight against her, but she wasn’t a heavy woman. Her head hit the ground hard as he toppled them both over, burned hands fumbling between strangling her or reaching for the sniper rifle behind her back. She curled her fists tight and threw it as hard as she could against the boy’s jaw, but he just wouldn’t get off. Instead he matched blow for blow, cracking a burnt knuckle against her eye socket.

She gritted her teeth and squirmed best she could for her back pocket for a flashbang, but suddenly felt one of those hands on sleek metal around her waist. The locust!

The omni-blade barely registered before it sank into the side of his chest, sliding perfectly between plates of armor and rib bones. His hands froze immediately, and he slumped against her, blood gurgling from his mouth. Kasumi sucked in a deep breath, trying to soothe the heavy pounding her heart. Let the adrenaline wash out of her. Eyes closed. Counted a few seconds. 

He was still alive, but not for long. Where the omni-blade landed would’ve punctured his lungs. While quick, it would be very painful. Numbly, she took the boy’s shoulders and pushed him off. He flopped like deadweight onto his back. Not much longer. She was sorry. So, so sorry.

She replaced her carnifex when she had left. Swiped a suppressor from a drunk soldier on Illium. That man was probably dead now too. She placed the muzzle on his temple and squeezed the trigger once. Any gasps, gurgles, halted movements of his chest-- they stopped immediately. 

Sloppy. So, so sloppy. So messy.

She took the earpiece.

“Korem?! What’s going on up there?! The guys on sixth said they heard screaming.”

What the fuck was wrong with her?

They would be up there any minute. It would be tricky to get out without a distraction splitting some of the forces. She peered over at the corpse beside her and sighed. 

Korem’s body crunched on impact, red and flesh mingling with the white pavement as it spattered in wild directions. 

“What the hell was that?! Someone go check that! Sixth floor, roof ASAP!”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry--”

Kasumi spared one last glance to memorize the shape of the broken body, his face frozen in horror as he stared unblinking to the starry sky, and tossed the ear piece over the roof with him. By the time the guards arrived to scope out the horror Kasumi left behind, her cloak was already activated, and she walked past-- letting the unfolding chaos and anguish distract from her exit.

--

Someone was calling again.

Somewhere, somehow in her hazy mind, Kasumi found herself sitting atop the graffiti wall, legs dangling over and staring upward. The air had cooled, and her right eye kept tearing. Bruising probably. Maybe some irritation from dirt and grime on that child’s hands. Child. She killed a child. What was she--

“Kasumi?”

Her hand clasped over her mouth as she felt the bile rise in her throat and swallowed, ignoring how the acid burned in her throat. No. Not right now. Deep breath. “Hey…” and she hated how steady her voice sounded. “I thought you’d be asleep already.”

Sha’ira sounded unsteady, as if unsure how to broach the topic. Her voice had more air to it than usual too-- still tired probably. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, “I was worried, but wasn’t sure you would answer a call right now.”

 “I… I was lonely, I guess. I usually don’t.” 

“Are you okay?”

 No. She was going to have to spend the rest of the night trying to find a canal or something to scrub the catsuit while trying not to vomit. She would have to explain her black eye in the morning to everyone, and she would have to explain that one of their big scary killers was a child, and she had just used his body to escape a hellfire of bullets. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go home and hold Keiji, or his image, or just feel something, anything else right now. 

“... Where are you right now?”

“I’ll be back soon. I don’t want you to get hurt. It’s kinda hard to see right now.”

“Kasumi.”

She didn’t want to be alone. But then Sha’ira would see this, and -- “Do you know where the nearest river is? Or like… a body of water?”

No hesitation, no pauses. Kasumi could even hear the smile on the other side. “I’ll bring a change of clothes. Whatever happened… we’ll get through it. Together.”

At least, it’d give her a chance to plan. They would be coming back for her, and she sure as hell wouldn’t fault them for it. 

--

As it turned out, an actual, functioning canal wasn’t super far from there. It was hardly clean, and absolutely guaranteed, she would smell like sewage or worse if she even tried. The canal’s water was moving though, which meant it had a better chance of being sterile than any other body of water that wasn’t an actual fucking river. It was water. It was flowing in a canal that was only holding itself together by the seams. Bridges connecting one side to another completely fallen apart, edges and sidewalks broken, husk corpses-- some of which were not-so pleasantly floating in the water.

It didn’t matter, because the blood was coming off. She had found a spot where the sidewalk had partially caved, providing a perfect ramp to the water. She had stripped off her catsuit with frightening efficiency and submerged the whole thing-- allowing her balled fists to stretch against the leather. The pads would take longer to dry, but fuck it. She didn’t care right now. She just wanted the blood off.

The first time it happened was on Omega, and she was a lot fresher faced and a lot more stupid. Eclipse merc used a hostage. Thought she wouldn’t go that far. Had, and wished she hadn’t. Kiera lectured her for days for how sick she felt. Kids didn’t know better. They couldn’t know better. They were just put in places by dumb adults and then dumber adults killed them. The recovery should have made them more important, but it didn’t and now a thirteen year old was dead. 

She couldn’t blame his father for it. He should have been safe on the roof with six floors of batarians with more experience between. Korem was old enough to want to contribute, and so he did. 

What could, should she tell the others? There wasn’t any framing to do now, but with how she left the place, the batarians would be going after STG next. Convenient for the shit she needed to get back, but it wasn’t their fault. They didn’t tell her to go. They didn’t tell her to kill a kid. And the truth… she wasn’t sure she could admit it. She never needed to the few times it had to happen. It’d been so long. It hurt. It hurt so bad. She didn’t even realize how badly until she was sitting on that stupid wall and that stupid call came in.

She shouldn’t care. It should be easy to just walk away. Take the shuttle, let them deal with the mess, and forget this ever happened. But she did care. She cared before those stupid batarians took her, before she met Keiji, before he died, before the fucking normandy. She wasn’t a monster that could just remove those thoughts and feelings aside. She wasn’t--

“Kasumi, I brought-- oh!”

And to Sha’ira, she probably looked a bit crazy at the moment. It’s not like she had a change of clothes with her when she stripped. So here was the consort, coming to help her friend in the middle of the night and finding her hunched over by a canal in her underwear, scrubbing at a catsuit and mumbling to herself. This was not a great look. Yeoman Chambers would’ve had a field day with that psych write-up. She wondered how she was doing. Probably not great. Few former Cerberus operatives were these days.

“Apologies. I imagine someone in your occupation would prefer some courtesy. I can turn around if you’d like. … I just thought you would be in the water already.”

The stench in her catsuit was going to be hard enough to get rid of. She didn’t need her whole body smelling like it. Did the consort seem a bit flustered? That surprised her. She peered over her shoulder, making out the curvature of Sha’ira back as she faced away and poised as gracefully as ever, and tried not to smile so wide. “The sewage smell isn’t the most appealing,” Kasumi remarked and pulled her catsuit from the water. Most of the blood was off, but a few spots were staining the pads. Ugh. “You can look by the way~. Just no cameras, of course.”

“Promise.” Though the offer was made, Kasumi didn’t really expect her to take it. The turn was quiet, barely discernible, but curious eyes studying her was obvious enough. It seemed fair after dragging her out of camp in the early morning hours, even though the offer had been reluctantly accepted on her part. She kept at her work however, this time finally separating the padding from the rest of the leather. The dried blood and stench nearly made her gag. 

Sha’ira stepped closer, less subtle steps, until standing just above her and studying the fabric that Kasumi was so desperately trying to get the stains out of. “... You’re injured.”

“Oh, it’s just bruising. It’ll be gone in a day or so.”

“Not a scratched cornea?” Probably not. Fists usually didn’t do that… she didn’t think. In any case, she could see fine, even if it was just a little blurry sometimes. What cybernetic work she had usually covered any surface hurt that could come out of a fight. Though the black eye would be hard to explain away once she did make it back to camp. Zaeed wouldn’t give a shit at least. “... I really am glad you’re alright.” 

She was never really in danger in the first place. It’s what she hated about thinking on her feet. Sometimes, Kasumi would come back and find about ten different plans that would’ve been plenty better than whatever stupidity adrenaline put her in. That ability to act, to not be paralyzed by fear or the unexpected, kept her alive for so long. But a great thief would never be in that situation in the first place. 

Sha’ira gripped her shoulder, squeezing once. The touch on her bare skin was temptingly warm, and distinctly, Kasumi remembered how much she craved.

Then she heard clothing shift as Sha’ira stood, and she turned her head back to her companion just in time to spot bare blue skin. Kasumi bit the urge to bawk as Sha’ira tossed her dress aside. “What are you doing?”

“It’s not ideal. I would agree with that. However, I do have perfumes to help mitigate the smell,” she offered casually, and Kasumi tried, very hard, to remember that nudity was more a human issue of decency than an asari one. This was fine. As if to emphasize its casualness and not a continuing symptom of Kasumi’s spiralling madness, Sha’ira stepped to the water’s edge, and without so much as a toe dip to test the temperature, submerged herself in murky depths. 

It was only a second later that she re-emerged by Kasumi’s hands, taking the soft padding between her own fingers and eying the fabric with a critical eye. The water was about chest-level, though Sha’ira hardly paid any mind to how odd the situation looked as she squeezed the fabric, letting the water it held to drip back into the canal. “I may have stain remover back in my tent. Though for blood, I would recommend bleach. I suppose if I had an idea on the material, I could make do with a combination of agents...”

The plain black bra was already soaked through. Kasumi was a bit surprised the fabric wasn’t sheer enough to be translucent from the water. Her freckles extended down to her shoulders, only becoming a lighter dusting as they approached the valley of her breasts. She… wasn’t in shape. It was actually sort of nice to see. She clearly took care of her body, but it wasn’t hardlined of muscle, of scars nicking her skin, and old war stories that never really went away in a person’s head. Her eyes curved easily with her smile, even as it looked odd examining bloodied material. Her hands weren’t calloused, long fingers that didn’t know strain as well as she did. 

Her smile widened just a little as Sha’ira spoke. “You must have a lot on your mind.”

She considered the padding between them and shrugged before tossing it back on the concrete shore. It landed in a rather unimpressive thump, joining the rest of the leather of her catsuit. Then, Kasumi eyed her with a half-hearted skepticism. “If I still stink after your dosing when we get back, I’m going to be pissed at you.”

“In my defense, your hands have already been in the water for a while, but I promise. You won’t leave my tent until you smell like roses, Kasumi.” And she waded herself a few feet back, giving Kasumi enough space to join her in the water. 

She slid in the water feet first and drew in a hiss as the chills ran up her spine. It wasn’t like ice, which she counted her blessings for, but cold water on an even colder evening was not pleasant. And Sha’ira had to have a damn good poker face not let that show when she dipped in.

The consort chuckled as she came closer, though refused to address Kasumi’s discomfort directly. “When was the last time anyone had seen you completely?”

An odd way to phrase nearly naked. “... Not since my partner? I’m sure Cerberus was a bit displeased with me disabling their cameras to ensure that.”

Sha’ira looked taken aback. “I… I can’t imagine you working for them for very long.”

“Oh! Oh no. That was with Shepard. And it was very much in the contract that it was a one-time deal. I just needed some extra help getting the…” Kasumi hesitated, though there was little point in it. “... Getting the greybox.”

“... Your partner was killed then?”

“Yeah. For the greybox.”

Sha’ira seemed pensive for a long moment, clearly different thoughts and suggestions coming together. Some being disregarded, others entertained more. She settled on one eventually though as she reached out, thumb lightly grazing against her bruised cheek before reaching the back of her skull, tracing the horizontal scar gnarled and aged in her olive skin. “... Is that how you got this?”

“No,” Kasumi admitted. “... That one’s been there for a while.”

“It’s deep. How old?”

“Ten.”

There was understanding there, sad but not pitying. It hadn’t surprised her that up close, Sha’ira recognized the scar for what it was. In her worst days, she thought she still heard the whispers and threats to her life if she didn’t obey. Sometimes, it felt like the plate was still there-- burning and itchy. But it wasn’t, and truly, it did make getting the greybox surgery much easier. The pain and recovery was nothing compared to that plate burning into her skin. Nothing compared to that. 

Her hand brushed through the shaved underside, through the short wisp of hair that had grown long enough in the front to brush into her eyes sometimes, and found the long, thin scar across her temple. “And this?”

“Sniper just barely missed. You know you’ll be at this for a while if you do this for everything?”

Sha’ira pulled her hand away, though the hum in her voice hadn’t completely left. “I hadn’t known until…”

“Yeah. My back tends to scare a lot of people. That’s what the tattoos are for.”

“This may surprise you, but you are remarkably well put together for someone that has gone through as much as you have.” She hesitated again, and she could feel her eyes following the path and lines of her skin-- what was undoubtedly a stark contrast to her own. Not just in the color either. Her olive skin had paled even further over the years of being in the shadows, and her skin had toned. Light enough to carry herself through the smallest nooks and crannies, but muscled just enough to get her from point A to point Z without taking the sidewalk. However, learning how to be a thief was hardly an easy walk in the park.

Some were from varren bites, lashes and beatings from old masters. She had the bullet holes and burns to prove her disastrous run-in in Illium, more from small incidents like tonight, others…

The tattoos were meant for covering others. She wasn’t the full body treatment like Jack, but she had a few. It was nice when she was younger and hated the skin she had been left with after so long. Abstract paintings were needled in mostly, splashes of color and whims that an old Omega roommate had illustrated beautifully. They dotted from the back of her neck to her shoulder blades, and even now when she would get the chance to look, she would admire the handiwork. There were other, smaller touches. Rose and thorns-- cliched but sentimental along her other hip, and her most recent addition, ‘SR-2’ on her right bicep. It took a lot of haggling to keep that artist quiet.

Her haircut was something more impressive once, but it wasn’t as if she had access to a hairdresser at the moment. The undercut did enough of a job, no matter how much Khalisah wanted to tease her about it. She used to have it longer, tied up in a bun like her grandmother had done before-- but it was so impractical. A few untimely somersaults and she would have wild black strands getting everywhere. It was a liability more than anything.

It was also very strange being studied like she was. There hadn’t been as much pressure as it was back when Kasumi had enough clothes to cover the most identifying parts of herself. Yet, there was something so inherently benign in the way Sha’ira observed her-- as if natural, as if there wasn’t anything else to do or worry about. 

She tried to lighten the mood. At least a little. “You make me feel like I should be posing or something~”

“It’s not necessary.” And Sha’ira smiled, and oh, there were only a few inches between them. She saw the water droplets slip lazily along the curvatures of her skin, separating in one valley and joining at another. Her hand fit easily along the lining of her jaw, nails lightly scratching as she held her. “... I want to memorize this. Like a rare flower found in the depths of a forest. I know how unique this is.”

So. Kasumi was being pampered. She knew this game too well to be bashful. She held her gaze, letting the smile ease onto her lips.

“Your arms were shaking before,” Sha’ira observed. “This is much better, isn’t it?”

It was hard to say. 

“Tell me what happened?”

“I killed a kid today.” The confession came out without a thought.

She felt the other hand fit around the other side, this time more careful, deliberate. “What happened?” she asked again. Maybe too close. It didn’t matter. The very look dared her to try and pull away. 

“I told him not to, but I freaked him out. … He killed Thyra. He just wanted to live.”

“Was he trying to--”

“I stabbed him and dumped his body over the parking deck.” Didn’t matter what he was doing. Samara would kill her for that alone, and the batarians would assume it was the STG. They didn’t know who she was. No matter how that conflict ended, more people would die and it would be her fault. The boy’s body was a broken jigsaw by the time it crunched against the pavement. If she studied close enough, pulled it from the depths of her own greybox, she could see every detail, down to those empty eyes starring above and how his arms and legs weren’t supposed to bend like that-- wondered how long Thyra’s death had stuck inside him, like every first kill did to someone. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t remember every detail, fully knowing she always would. She always would remember the exact shape his body made on the pavement, the way he gurgled and suffocated from the puncture in his lungs, from the beginnings of rot and blood overtaking the overcooked varren still left on his plate. She remembered everything because she had to. 

Sha’ira wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her tight against her. She barely registered her head resting against the crook of her shoulder, but as she felt those same uncalloused hands comb through black hair, soothing and gentle, she let her eyes flutter closed.

She didn’t deserve it, but Kasumi couldn’t find it in her to turn Sha’ira away.

[sama-qadomi]

She’s battled the hardest fights life could throw at her and the weight of the world weighs heavily on her.

She’s only ever had herself to depend on, so she doesn’t look to anyone else to help ease her burden.

Whatever you want to call her- broken, a mess, lost..she doesn’t care, because she stopped worrying about what others thought a long time ago.

She’s been to rock bottom too many times and picked herself up more times than she can count.

She’s not trying to be strong, a survivor or anything else, she is just trying to keep going.

She’s tired of suffering without an end in sight.

Truthfully, she found herself in the darkness when she couldn’t find anything else- not even the light.

She didn’t know how she’d survive the broken failure that was her life, but somehow, painfully, she did.

She clawed her way out of the abyss and slowly, she began to build her resolve.

It was never about flying high or succeeding to her, it was just about finding some peace in a world that never gave her a chance.

No one ever expected her to rise from the ashes, so when they saw her pulling herself out of the emotional wreckage of her life, they were stunned.

They didn’t know her life or her story, nor did they know her reasons..

They never knew that this scarred and flawed angel never wanted wings..she just wanted to breathe free.

Reeling from the pain and digging deep to find her courage, she uncovered the parts of herself that she never knew existed.

She wasn’t trying to be a hero or a role model, she was just trying to survive a story that didn’t give her any other choice..

She was broken.

She was lost.

She was counted out.

She rose again..

And using the pain to fuel the fires of her passion, she became something else entirely.

A warrior forged of fire and scarred by pain..she would never again let anyone hurt her so deeply, she vowed with the beautiful countenance of a strong woman who has walked through hell..and kept smiling.

As she broke free of the shackles of struggle that once held her down, she gleefully stepped into the light that had eluded her for so long..

In that moment, she found herself, finally, at a place she’d never known..but had long dreamt of..

And as she stepped into the dawn of a new chapter, out sprung wings she’d never cared a thing to have, but yet, she was always meant to possess..

But, finally having the courage and strength to fly high, she finally reached that place she had wanted to find as long as she could remember..

A place she’d sought her entire life-

Where she was, at least, free...free to breathe deeply and free to fly high.

So that’s just what she did..

And she never looked back.

[psychicdan]

Samurai Jack: Renegade Samurai

Rating M for graphic depictions, language, violence and suggestive themes

Warning:

The following is a work of fanfiction and is not intentionally connected to real world places, events, or people, nor intended to copy others’ work. Samurai Jack is the work of Genndy Tartakovsky, his team and affiliated studios and companies. This is solely fanfiction for fun and not profit.

Chapter VII: Mechanics and Death Metal

           Within the steel, towering Citadel that overlooked the grand Capital city of Novas Sanctum, the Lord Protector, Magnus, sat on his throne with his hand over his face in dismay. “So then, we lost Inquisitor Maxil?” he asked his closest aide Xander. “It would seem so, Lord Protector. His last report showed him closing in on Samurai Jack, and all communication from him and his troops vanished. We investigated Havenground, but found nothing conclusive, not even their remains.” Xander reported.

           Magnus sighed, saying “I figured as much. I could feel his presence vanish, which could only mean either the ward I placed on him was removed or he died.”. As part of each 1st Class Inquisitor’s vow to the Lord Protector, he placed wards on each of them, so that he could feel both their life force and loyalty to him. It was by no means a tracker, nor did it technically shackle their free will. But, if they died in service to him or their loyalty ever sway, he would know. As a result, if it was the second, then they would wish they were dead instead. That was how he kept his most powerful in check.

           “Well, Maxil was hardly the strongest of our Inquisitors. He was always too eager to improve his standing. But to lose such an accomplished soldier is unacceptable. It damages our morale, troubles the people, and is a damn insult to us all. Xander, who is the nearest 1st Class Inquisitor to the Samurai’s last spotted location?” Magnus inquired.

           Xander was streaming through the device’s reports, filtering through suspect data and military personnel information. “Let’s see, based on his last suspected sighting, the Samurai is likely in Sector E8, seen leaving with the defector Ashi from one of our settlements before Cyber Troopers arrived. Strange, the reports indicate a third person in a leather coat there with them.” he reported, a bit baffled.

           “Ignore it, Xander. Whoever it is can’t be important, probably just another dumbass over his head like Jack, but remember who the targets are.” Magnus stated. “Sorry, I’ll just list him as an accomplice and leave it at that. Now, from our listed personnel in that Sector, the nearest 1st Class in the area is…uhh, ohhh, umm…” Xander said with discomfort and pause. His face was cramped up, like he was eating a stale expired fruit cake.

           “Well, come on Xander, spit it out, we don’t have all day!” Magnus shouted, impatient for results. Xander gave a long sigh, knowing neither he nor the Lord Protector would like the response. “Inquisitor… Dreadskull, Lord Protector”. Magnus gave a long, audible groan as he facepalmed with both hands, already having a migraine hit him with that name. “You’ve got to be SHITTING ME! That dumbass?! UGGH! Of all 11 remaining Inquisitors, why HIM?! Why did we even let him change his name to that?!”.

           “He does get some results in, and before you approved him, he was quite competent as a 3rd and 2nd Class.” Xander countered. “And ever since then, I knew I made a mistake and he must have cheated his way somehow! The only reason he’s still where he is that power of his is somewhat useful. Otherwise, I would have dumped him on the streets and let him be someone else’s headache! God, what is he even doing there anyways?” Magnus lamented, feeling like his migraine was turning into a tumor just from thinking about it.

“According to the logs, he is reportedly on recruitment drive. But, the personnel we placed with him state he is doing so by having another one of his… concerts.” Xander said, feeling awkward from the unprofessional details. “Of course, he’s still plaguing the world with that trash he calls music. He must be tone deaf to not know how terrible he makes it. Great, I give him a real job, and instead he’s jerking off to that stupid guitar of his!” Magnus vented.

Magnus’s rage over this particular Inquisitor, in part, comes from a rather traumatic past experience. The Inquisitor in question had tried to hold one of his “concerts” in the main hall of the Citadel. The ensuing noise rocked the whole facility, and Magnus himself stampeded down to the area, unable to take another second. He destroyed all the equipment and threw the Inquisitor out on his ass, not removing his position, but the Lord Protector threatened if he pulled another stunt like that in the Citadel ever again, he was next on the execution list. Needless to say, that Inquisitor’s name alone pissed Magnus off to no end.

“Well, I don’t refuse that power gives him the advantage. Maybe he’ll blast the Samurai’s brains out or something with that trash. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll just kill each other.” Magnus mused. He knew he just said how bad it was to lose an Inquisitor, but he would be quite pleased to let this one go and take out the Renegade Samurai in the process. “All right, you handle informing him Xander. I want the renegades to suffer under that damn dumbass, not me.”.

…

A pair of motorcycles rode through the late day, the sun setting over the conifer treed area. Aside from these vehicles, the road, and of course the perpetual sign of occasional war wreckage, there was only nature to be seen. Jack, though he still had his eyes focused on the road, appreciated the sights and sounds of the trees and birds with a smile. Behind him, Ashi shared a similar expression, taking in the atmosphere as they drove on. “Wow, look at it all.” she said with a hint of wonder.

In the previous timeline, these natural landscapes were rare, as Aku had reduced many forests and other natural wonders to hopeless wastelands, one such sight being Jack’s proof of Aku’s true nature to Ashi. She had seen some vestiges of nature when searching for Jack, but they were a bit sparse and she had no time to gaze. In Jack’s time, when nature was almost untouched, it was as though she were living a dream, beholding unattainable majesty. When she had vanished and gained a new life in this new future, she had been confined to the steel walls of the Inner Sanctum, only knowing of nature thanks to her dreams and returned memories of the previous timeline with Jack.

Now that she had freed herself again from all that, she had witnessed with Jack the scenery of this world. It was honestly somewhere between Jack’s time and Aku’s time, but not really like either. Civilization was larger and more obstructive of nature than the people of Jack’s time, but there was still nature surrounding the cities at least, even plants within them, something Aku’s cities never had. There were no charred and barren wastelands like the demon’s world, at least as far as they knew, but that didn’t mean there were no scars.

Everywhere they went, reminders of the Near End War could be seen. Craters, skeletons, and war machine monoliths were scattered in every region, some sparse, others vastly littered, but it was never hard to find the remains of a battle. But, while this clearly ravaged the land in the past, nature was showing signs of revival, as only some battle areas remained partially barren and the area surrounding them lively again. Some battle sights were even returning to nature, with fauna and other plant life covering the war remains.

This forest was one such area, as the trees were rarely disrupted with the sight of a derelict monolith and continuing for miles. Instead of a battlefield, the swaying pine and leaf trees and passive wild life gave off a peaceful vibe, the kind only nature afforded.

“Even in the aftermath of such terrible strife and destruction, life flourishes and blooms.” Jack said in passive awe. He had seen many astounding sights, but none would amaze him more than the testament of nature itself. He felt Ashi tighten around his back, and Jack turned his head to see Ashi right beside his. He blushed as he smiled, as did she. “HEY! Lovebirds, eyes on the road!”.

Jack and Ashi broke sights in sheer embarrassment from that callout, not sure how to stare at each other. While Jack turned back to look at the road with an awkward discomfort, Ashi turned to look very upset at the one who ruined the moment.

“Will you shut it already!” she screamed across the road. Cassius, who was driving the other motorcycle behind, shrugged. “Dunno, depends on how many times you keep getting starlight in each other’s eyes. There’s a time and place for that you know. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten caught by that patrol earlier if you saved that for later.”. “Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten caught if you did your job and kept watch while we got supplies! I saw you, you were definitely taking a nap!” Ashi retorted. “I-I wasn’t. I was keeping a low profile, something you two need to learn.” Cassius said a bit suddenly. “Right, low profile. That snoring was a great signal by the way.” Ashi said sarcastically. Jack sighed in response, knowing he had to get accustomed to this. He thought that he and Ashi had a rough start, at least Aku’s doctrine was responsible for most of the physical and verbal violence then. Ashi’s upfront personality and Cassius’s dismissive attitude had been at complete odds since they met. Honestly, Jack was wondering if they were going to kill each other before Magnus got the chance.  

As though in response to that thought, the roar of engines similar to their own rumbled from behind. Jack looked behind to see five motorcycles of grey and black aesthetic, each armed with dual machine guns like his, and mounting each were Cyber Troopers. “Samurai Jack, in the name of the Lord Protector and our commanding Inquisitor, you will stand down or be terminated!” shouted one on a mechanized speaker then. “Oh great, look what you did! The bucket heads are on our six now!”. “Because you slept on the job!”.

Jack was not willing to obey the Cyber Troopers. nor deal with this heated argument. So, he sharply turned and swerved his motorcycle without losing too much speed, sending him into the opposite direction towards the pursuit. He held out his sword, and as he came near one of the Protectorate cycles, slashed across it in one clean hit. For a split second, nothing happened, then the Protectorate cycle came undone in two pieces as they, and the Cyber Trooper, got caught in a fiery explosion.

The other motorcycles tried to swerve in their direction, but they had forgotten Cassius, which was a fatal mistake. He readied and aimed his laser revolver, blowing the head off one Cyber Trooped and making the cycle crash. His would share the same fate though. as an upcoming Protectorate cycle shot up the motorcycle and tires, making it grow unstable. Cassius barely jumped off in time before the veering motorcycle came to a crash. He turned to face the Protectorate cycle about to run him over, till it received machine gun fire in return. He looked in the direction to see Jack using his own mounted machine guns to shoot up the opposing cycle, causing that one to explode to. Another one behind them tried to use that tactic as they closely fired behind. Ashi took the initiative, bringing out her SMG and firing at the cycle. It would be difficult to inflict fatal shots on the driver, so she aimed at the cycle and tires instead. Damage in the right spots caused the cycle to swerve and speed up uncontrollably. Suddenly, it was on a collision course for Jack’s cycle. “JUMP!” he shouted. The pair did so, seeing from the air their cycle colliding with the Protectorate one, as they both crashed into a wall of trees and explode.

The pair landed on the road, then turned up to see the last Protectorate motorcycle zeroing in on them. Jack stood there with his sword readied, waiting for the right moment. Finally, the cycle got in firing range and engaged. Jack jumped right before the gunfire reached him, somersaulting over the ground to the enemy cycle. The Cyber Trooper was startled see the incoming Samurai rapidly approach him as Jack slashed with his sword using his own momentum, bisecting the Cyber Trooper and part of the cycle as they crashed thereafter. Jack landed gracefully in the aftermath of the following explosion, his sword dripping with blood.

He was about to cleanse and sheath his sword, until he heard the sound of rolling steel coming their way. Ashi and Cassius returned to his sides, and soon thereafter, driving up the road was an armored Protectorate tank of sorts. The tank closed in with machine guns and cannon pointed at the trio. All three had tense expressions as they readied their weapons. Though they faced worse odds, this would be an intense fight. Or it was going to be, till all three saw an overhead missile shoot straight for the tank. It collided with the armored tank, turning it into a ball of fire and shrapnel, leaving a crater on the road with only flaming, blackened metal wreckage in its wake.

The trio stared at the sight dumbfounded for a second, then looked towards the source of the missile. Driving towards them was another armored vehicle. But this one was not Protectorate, in fact it was far from professional. It was all mismatched parts and makeshift composition, as though it was assembled from junk parts. Jack recognized the various parts were similar to the old war wreckage, surmising it was all likely made from salvage. The armored vehicle approached them and stopped, but did not give off hostile intent.

A brief moment later, the hatch opened, and from that, a young girl emerged. She appeared to be the same age as Cassius, a young adult in very early 20s. She had brown eyes and dark blue hair. Aside from the strangely naturality of the color to it, her hair was in tuffs to the sides, the rest in a ponytail that reached down as far as her neck. Her skin was white, but more brightly colored compared to Cassius’s somewhat pale skin. Her complexion was clean and youthful, only marred by smudges here and there. Her attire and vehicle hinted why. She wore a red mechanic jacket over a faded brown shirt, both seeing some wear. Bellow that she wore pocketed black denim shorts that reached down to her knees. Below that, she wore faded yellow worker boots, clearly worn yet durable. She was of similar height to Ashi, but their clothing was very different, Ashi’s tight so that she could move quietly and quickly, and this person garbed in looser clothing for comfort.

Their rescuer spoke then. “Hey, you alright? Well, yeah, you’re alright I guess, but that’s just what you ask with this situation and all. Oh dear, um, uh, you got a ride out of here?” she asked on the fly. She didn’t seem shy so much as bashful, as it seemed she just blurted out what she said and felt only a bit self-conscious. Given the situation though, conversation would be awkward. The three looked to their motorcycles which were now flaming scrap parts. “I’m…afraid not.” Jack said a bit awkwardly and troubled. “Yeah, thanks to someone getting their attention.” Cassius said a bit callously, Ashi once again glaring at him for that remark.

“What’s his problem?” the girl asked. “Ignore him, he’s stupid and inconsiderate.” Ashi said without looking at the insulted Cassius. “Ah, gotcha. Well, how about you hitch a ride? The cyber bastards have a base not too far, so those patrols are regular. I can take you to my place till we get you sorted out.”. Jack, Ashi, and Cassius looked at each other. With Ashi nodding and Cassius giving a reluctant shrug, Jack turned to the girl. “Thank you very much, for both saving us and helping us further, miss…uh…”, “Agalia, but cut the miss, thanks.” the girl said with a smile.

…

As the sun began setting over the forested area, the makeshift armored vehicle approached a junkyard of sorts. Jack was a bit puzzled as to why they were headed there, but then he noticed some of the massed salvage resembled buildings like a home and garage. When they entered, he recognized most of it as the same derelict war remains that constantly dotted the landscape. Then they entered and parked in the sizable garage, where a few other machines, some covered, lie in wait.

           The garage, like the junkyard, was far from tidy, with junk parts, tools, and fluid cans strewn all over the floor. The walls were covered in schematic designs and tool racks, giving not much space there either. “Uh, sorry, not used to house guests.”. Agalia said. “It… speaks great character.” Jack said a bit awkwardly. “This place is a dump.”, “Cass!” Ashi said with disapproval. “Yeah, but it’s my dump. Well, me and my aunt’s. It’s almost suppertime, come on!” she said with energy as she led them from the garage and into the living area. Though this building was made partly from salvage too, all the various furniture and decorations gave off a family vibe.  They could hear sounds and smell tantalizing scents from a lit room nearby.

In there was the kitchen, with an older woman, likely in her 50s, with short braided graying hair and garbed in similar mechanics clothing. She was tending over a stew pot when she looked up. “Agalia, where the hell have you been?! I’m here making dinner, then you disappear and, for all I know, went to cause a row with the soldiers again! You know it’s not good going out there!” Agalia’s aunt chastised. “Heh, sorry Boss. Maybe I did get into a scrap, but it was to help these guys, see?” Agalia said as she gestured to Jack’s group.

Her aunt gazed at them as though analyzing a trinket to see what it was worth. “Hm, well aren’t you an odd lot? Not hard to figure out why you might get into a snag with the bucket heads, but like I care, just don’t bring ‘em here. Oh, and sorry for having you put up with my trigger-fingered niece here.” Agalia’s aunt said as she turned a criticizing glance to said niece. Agalia tried to laugh it off, albeit uncomfortably.

“Ahahaha, well, this here is my aunt Andrea, but myself and everyone else who works in the junkyard calls her Boss. That’s about a third of the settlement some ways from here, so the name spread, now everyone calls her that.” Agalia explained. “Great, had to remind me. Why is everyone there a bunch of idiots?” Andrea dismayed. “You’re good at keeping everyone on track, even help the farmers and wildlife workers, remember?” Agalia explained. “Hmph, that reminds me, why am I doing everything around here?! Agalia, stop fooling around and help me! We’ve got a meal of 5 to get ready, so help me out! You three, the soup will be ready soon, so find the dining table and sit down till it’s ready, alright?” she said with a bit of sternness. Jack, Ashi, and Cassius found themselves unable to counter to an offer like that, so Jack simply said, “Thank you.” a bit awkwardly as they did as she told them. Soon, Andrea and Agalia came in, with Andrea setting the table and Agalia pouring out the heavy pot of soup. They all sat down and began to eat.

As they enjoyed the nicely made soup, Ashi began to inquire. “So, Agalia, you and your aunt bot live and work here?” she asked. “Yep, it’s only the two of us that live here. Everyone else who works here in the day lives in the settlement. Most people either salvage, work in farms, or tend to the wildlife. This place used to be a battle sight in the war, but the land was still fair afterwards, so it recovered well in those reforestation and recovery efforts that are still going on I hear. That’s what wildlife workers used to do, now they just make sure we don’t ruin the forest. As for us, we salvage and clean up all that war junk. It was just the cleanup at first, I hear, but now we make some good revenues by salvaging it and selling what we can. Course, we can’t rebuild those weapons, for, well, obvious reasons.” Agalia explained.

“Hold on, if that wasn’t a weapon, then what do you call it? A stroller?” Cassius asked with scepticism. Agalia became awkward at that, and Andrea spoke, if only to criticize her niece rather than explain. “Like I said, this here niece of mine is a trigger-fingered pain in the ass. She’s held a real grudge against the Protectorate for years, and now she keeps turning scrap into anything that shoots or goes boom! I kept trying to scrap it back to junk, but she just rebuilds everything in secret, so I stopped trying. Now I just keep her away from them by having her focus on the job, which apparently someone needs to learn.”.

“Did the Protectorate wrong you in some way?” Jack asked Agalia with a serious glance. Suddenly, Agalia’s cheerful and bashful nature vanished, as she now looked down with a somber gaze. Jack realized then that he must have inquired into something too personal, and tried to apologize. “I-I am sorry, I did not mean to…”, “I-it isn’t all complicated, I just hat those sons-of-bitches is all! I mean seriously, they started a fight with you on the road, I saw, and you don’t know how they’ve been acting lately. They keep harassing everyone, usually about raising the tax, or reminding us to be grateful to Magnus, yadda, yadda, yadda.” Agalia explained as she tried to defuse the oppressive atmosphere.

“The worst part though is the drafting. Those bucket heads apparently don’t get enough recruits. Heh, that’s surprising, considering their charming manners. So, they sometimes make an announcement that they need “fine, able recruits” to fill out their ranks. Not many volunteers then, probably because being turned into a cyborg doesn’t sound great. So, they sometimes just grab you right then and there. Heck, they barge into your home and take your family sometimes too.” Agalia said with bitterness.

“That’s enough, they only do that when the Sectors need more patrols, and it’s not like it’s all dangerous, so long as you’re not shooting them. Most join up without complaint, remember?” Andrea explained, trying to calm her niece. “They’ve been acting like jackasses! Hell, I hear that guy in charge of the base has been using some weird marketing tactic to get more recruits, how is that not bad?!” Agalia retorted. “That’s just one idiot, don’t let that get to you. This will all be over soon, alright? So stuff your gripes, I won’t have it!” Andrea shouted to finish this family argument. They all returned to eating the soup, Andrea and Agalia rather bitter about it, while Jack, Ashi, and Cassius were rather awkward as they ate following that heated conversation.

As they nearly finished, a loud banging came from the front door. They all got up and went to the door, as they were alarmed by the urgency. When opened, a young worker straggled in, out of breath. “B-boss! Agalia! We’ve got trouble!” he panted out with his breath. “Whoa, slow down, what happened?” Andrea asked with clear seriousness. The worker collected his thoughts and his breath as he recounted. “There were rumors going around that some huge music artist was touring in the area, and that got a lot of the young workers in the settlement excited. Some of the guys asked if I wanted to go with them, but I said I wasn’t interested. When I saw them off in those busses though, I saw some Cyber Troopers off to the distance, and the busses took off for their base! I think this is that recruitment scam thing that’s been going on!” the worker said with great fear.

Apprehension seized Agalia, as most of those people were peers and co-workers her own age, her friends. She stormed off then to the garage. “A-Agalia, what do you think you’re doing?!” Andrea screamed after her as they all followed. Agalia moved a schematic paper and pressed button beneath. Suddenly, the wall flipped, revealing a whole weapon rack of various makeshift tools of destruction. “Damn, this girl means business.” Cassius said with both astonishment and appreciation.

           Agalia began strapping on the various guns to her person and then loading what she couldn’t on to the armored vehicle. “Oh no, you are not going to go start a gun fight! It doesn’t matter if you bring bigger guns, they got a lot more guns and people there. I am not having my dumbass niece kill herself!” Andrea shouted as she moved to stop her. “Don’t worry, she’s not going this alone.” Cassius said as she stood by Agalia, Agalia herself being surprised by this. Jack and Ashi were similarly surprised, as it seemed Cassius was the type to follow others initiative rather than his own.

“Hey Jack, we are doing something about this right? I mean, we’re not about to let them pull this kind of shit, right?” Cassius said, a clear invitation for some assistance. Jack and Ashi understood, knowing that they would have helped anyways. “Don’t worry, Agalia, we’re going to stop them and get your fiends back.” Ashi said with resolve. “Y-you guys…” Agalia said, a bit shocked to receive support in her recklessness. Jack turned to bow his head to Andrea. “We are so very sorry for our imposition, but we would like to assist your niece in her endeavor. Please, we promise we will see to her safety and return her friends safely as well.” Jack promised.

Andrea gave a long sigh. “Honestly, I knew I couldn’t stop that dumbass, even if I dragged on her feet. I thought an old lady like myself would have to march there myself and take a shot for her. Well, you three look like you can handle yourselves well, so make sure that pain-in-the-ass comes back in one piece, you hear?”. Jack nodded with affirmation, promising not to let anything happen to her niece. “B-boss…” Agalia said, absolutely stunned by her aunt’s acceptance. “I keep putting up with the Protectorate, telling myself they got their reasons and such, and honestly, not many are that bad. But whoever’s running the show there really has his head up his ass, and messed with my employees. I’m going to be frank, go kick ass, Agalia.” Andrea said with a fierce smile. Agalia nodded back with a similar smile.

Soon enough, all four helped to pack up the armored vehicle. When they were done, Agalia turned back to Andrea. “I’ll be back with everyone, Boss.”, “You better, how’s a person my age supposed to handle all this heavy lifting?!”. They both laughed, and Agalia turned back to Jack and the rest. “Are you ready?” Jack asked. “Yeah, let’s go.”.

…

The armored vehicle drove through the evening-skied forest, with the stars beginning to replace the set sun. In the distance, Jack’s group could see a lit-up clearing which came into focus as they got closer. They were surprised by what they saw though.

“Wait, that’s a base? Why is it all out in the open like that? Where are all the walls and stuff?” Ashi asked with bewilderment. The Protectorate “base” up ahead had to be the place, as the tracks led there and the busses could be seen, but it was hardly fortified. In fact, it looked like a stadium of some sort, with a wide-open field in the middle of rounded walls with seats in them. The lights strangely didn’t look outward to search, but shone on the area inside. There was a stage in front of the clearing to, and it looked like people were gathering in the field before it. The whole place looked like it was constructed on the go. There were Protectorate vehicles and provisional buildings nearby, but that was more of an additional encampment. What strategic purpose did this strange building serve?

“The rumor was something about a music artist touring through here. Maybe they set this all up to make the scam look convincing or something?” Cassius suggested as he scratched his head. For a drafting scam, this was going rather convincingly far, unnecessarily so, in fact. It had to be drafting, since the Magnus Protectorate was involved. They weren’t exactly patrons of the free arts, so there was no way they were sponsoring a music artist. Jack was a bit baffled as well, but he kept his guard up. This reminded him of the other timeline, where a servant of Aku used rave music altered by Aku’s dark magic to enslave youths to do his bidding. This all looked too familiar to that.

Beside him, Agalia was gripping some makeshift tool weapon. She explained earlier that it was something she made herself for both work and self-defense. On one end of the rod-like tool was something that could be interchanged with various tool ends like wrenches, screwdrivers, blowtorches, etc. Right now, she had a hammer affixed for fighting. The other end had a makeshift shotgun. She carried other firearms on her, but she said this was a personal favorite. She looked down at the stage area, undeterred by the bizarreness of it all and ready to take action.

Jack returned his gaze to the view, knowing now was the time. “Let’s go” he said. The vehicle drove down to the stadium entrance. Strangely, no Cyber Troopers could be seen, and the entrance was open. However, they couldn’t drive the vehicle through. Jack and company exited the vehicle and entered the stadium, cautiously watching out in each direction. Before them was the crowd, dressed up in a strange style. They wore all black clothing, some in tatters and some with strange diagrams like skulls and other gothic elements. Their accessories were like so as well, such metal armbands, chain necklaces and such. It probably had something to do with the theme of whatever music event they were expecting.

Suddenly, the lights went out, then centered on the stage. Smoke was gathering there, and then, BAM!, an explosion effect triggered there, and standing at the center of it all was a man with a guitar. He was tall and well-toned, but that was hardly most characteristic of him. He had long silver dyed hair and a face painted like a skull. His clothing and attire were similar to the crowd, but if analyzed, it could be seen his gothic style was also Protectorate themed, if only barely with the gray and black aesthetic.

Specifically, he was shirtless with only a grey, torn up open jacket on his top and wearing a spiked choker across his neck. Across his body were tattoos, such as a flaming skull on the front. On his right shoulder was the Magnus Protectorate shield and saluting figure insignia tattooed there as well, indicating he may, somehow, be affiliated with that group. He wore torn black leather pants and spiked leather shoes.

The man jumped over to the mike and began to yell into it. “YOOO, how is everybody?! Are you ready to ROCK?! Are you ready to party you souls to HELL?!”, “YEAHHHH!” the crowd cheered. “Alright, then get ready to tear up the ground, while I, INQUISITOR DREADSKULL, lay down some sick beats!” the Inquisitor yelled on. Suddenly he gripped his guitar, and using his pick, he started playing. Suddenly, two flaming skeleton figures appeared beside him and started playing bass and drums. Then the mix of guitar and drum noises kicked up in cacophonous manner.

“Stay down, stay low, for here come the armies of hell! Ravage savages, killer criminals, and all manners death bringer! You stay down, you stay low, wondering when the end will come. Suddenly you see him, you cheer him, and all the monsters cry before him! MAGNUS! Our Lord Protector! MAGNUS! Our savior and ruler!” Dreadskull sang on. His lyrics, sang in a mix of long guttural speech and high-pitched screeching, kept yelling about hell, monsters, and of course Magnus propaganda.

Apparently, no one liked it, as everyone, including Jack’s company, was kneeling down and covering their ears from the poor guitar playing, banging drums, and screaming that was going on. Jack tried to think through the pain, wondering how Magnus allowed anyone to sing this badly about him. “GAHH, what is this?!” Ashi screamed. “UGHHH, it’s death metal! Really shitty death metal though!” Cassius screamed back. Suddenly, the music stopped abruptly with a static pause.

“HEY, I heard that! Which one of you shitheads said my beats were shit?!” Dreadskull screamed. “BOOOO!” the whole cried out. “You suck!”, “Get off the stage!”, “This is shit!” were the various remarks people in the crowd were making. Dreadskull looked very upset, his ego unwilling to take any form of criticism. As far as he was concerned, he was a death metal god.

“Alright, that’s it! I wanted to invite you back country bumpkins to the Magnus Protectorate nicely and treat you to the best damn concert of your lives, but it seems no one in the sticks has taste! So guess what, I’m just drafting you all on the spot! Troops, be bros and put all these damn ingrates on the busses!” Dreadskull screamed out. Suddenly, the exit slammed shut, and from the stadium walls, Cyber Troopers stormed in with restraints. The crowd tried to run away, but they saw there was no way out. People at the edge screamed as the Troopers began to raise their weapons.

Suddenly, one of the Cyber Troopers cried out in death as a hammer slammed through their helmet. Agalia lifted her blood-soaked weapon from the corpse and looked at the enemy with resolve. The Cyber Troopers all prepared to fire, but then Jack, Ashi, and Cassius moved in cutting down the surprised Cyber Troopers who fought in vain. The company of four turned to look at Dreasdskull then, who looked surprise till he smiled with realization.

“Well, if it isn’t Samurai Jack, the Renegade Samurai who’s been stirring shit up. I gotta say, you really screwed with the wrong crowd. After what you did to Maxil, my main man the Lord Protector called me and told me to kick your ass! Well, he said to kill you, but you get the point! You really must have pissed him off. But to think you would have strolled right into my concert. Did you want my autograph, because I respect people who would die for it you know?” the Inquisitor gloated. Jack narrowed his eyes. This person acted in ridiculous manner, but something told him that this person was dangerous.

“Anyways, like I was saying, I was here doing my recruitment drive, inviting people to the cause with my sick beats, and then the Lord Protector tells me you’re passing through and to eliminate you at all cost. I was planning a road block concert or something, but you actually came here! Man, this is great! Maybe the Lord Protector will be a bro and let me do that apology concert in the Citadel for this!” Dreadskull mused on. He conveniently left out that it was Xander who told him as an acting proxy, not Magnus himself. He seemed to take Magnus’s threat of execution not all that seriously.

“Shut it! First, we’re gonna kick your ass for tricking all my friends here and trying to kidnap them! And second, you really suck at guitar and talk too much, you know that?!” Agalia screamed at him. Dreadskull scowled at that, then smirked in confidence. “Oh, you’re dead wrong about that, bitch! Let me show you how killer I am with this baby!”.

Dreadskull started thrashing on the guitar again. The ephemeral skeletons that played drum and base, who had vanished earlier, reappeared and started playing again. They weren’t alone though. Suddenly, a whole horde of ephemeral skeletons, dressed in gothic fashion similar to Dreadskull, manifested in front of Jack and the others.

“Oh, almost forgot. Troops, my bros, get started on that laser lightshow, like we rehearsed!” Dreadskull commanded. Suddenly, from the tops of the walls Cyber Troopers emerged in firing positions. Rather than bullet based firearms, they seemed to be using laser weapons, obviously a theatric Dreadskull was going for. “Shit, more of them. Looks like this guy’s an Inquisitor for a reason, at least one.” Cassius said as he stared from the overhead soldiers to the skeletal horde.

It was a ridiculous gimmick, but all four of them realized how deadly it was. Suddenly, the music intensified, and the horde charged and the troops fired. Jack and Ashi engaged the front charge, slashing at the skeletons who vanished with each hit, but more manifested from the rear to take their place. Cassius aimed at the overhead soldiers with his laser revolver, but it took time, and he only managed to shoot two before the horde forced him to defend with his cybernetic photon sword.

Agalia hammered at the coming skeletons, smashing them to bone bits before they vanished. She fired with the shot gun end, blowing back several in a line with each shot. But this fighting style did not help much against overwhelming numbers, and soon she was surrounded. As she stares at the flaming ephemeral skeletons, teeth gritted, she prepared for the onslaught when suddenly an unusual sword from behind them cut them up.

Running over the vanishing skeletal remains was Cassius, who looked a bit ragged and torn, but no worse for wear. “We should follow their lead and watch each other’s backs.” he said as he gestured to Jack and Ashi, who were keeping the skeletons from getting in each other’s quarters. Cassius and Agalia followed suit, cutting down skeletons that approached and keeping each other’s space from the enemy. However, that was starting to wear on all of them, and it did not help that they needed to dodge and block the laser fire from overhead.

“(Huffs) We’re getting run ragged here, and that damn music is getting on my nerves!” Cassius vented. “I got an idea, but first we need to take care of the bucket heads! Can you cover me for a bit?” Agalia asked. Cassius nodded, not sure what trick she had up her sleeve, but willing to trust it. As he fended off the skeletons from her, Agalia drew out some sort of control tablet and started giving inputs. Her specialty was mechanics, but she also knew some things about electronics too. She was glad she implemented this.

Outside the stadium, the armored vehicle Jack’s company drove in started up. Agalia could see a display of what the vehicles sights were, and started directing it to get in motion. Outside, it aimed its main weapon, then fired a missile. The troops were so focused on the stadium grounds, they never saw the missile or explosion that blew them and the portion of the wall off. Dreadskull and the troops were surprised, wondering where that fire was coming from. Suddenly, more explosions blew the tops of the stadium walls, taking out all the Cyber Troopers.

“Damn, this is why I prefer a solo career.” Dreadskull muttered. He didn’t count his ephemeral skeleton horde, it was his own power. The power the Lord Protector awakened in him fit his passions perfectly. It allowed him to manifest force into several forms, all based on the death metal he played. Often, he manifested these flaming ephemeral skeletons because of how cool they were and easy it was for him to imagine. How much he could manifest and how powerful depended on how loud and passionately he played, mostly loud though.

That’s why, despite how useful this power was in this situation, he couldn’t fully use it on the spot, so that’s part of the reason why Inquisitors like Maxil didn’t consider him fairly strong. In a concert though, he was king. That’s why, after the recruitment drive, he was going to set up a stage like road block, ambushing the Samurai in Dreadskull’s best advantage. Thanks to the Samurai’s meddling though, Dreadskull could finally please Magnus here and now. He didn’t stand a chance so long as he was still rockin’.

Jack was beginning to feel the fatigue take him, knowing that Dreadskull had the advantage and he needed to end it. He already figured out the music had something to do with it, as the bass and drums skeletons vanished when he stopped playing earlier. He just needed to get through the horde and get on stage to stop him, but that proved difficult.

“Jack, get back!” Agalia shouted. He did so, and saw a makeshift grenade got tossed into the horde. An explosion ripped through, and in its wake a portion of the area cleared. “Quickly!” Jack shouted as the others followed. They neared the stage when the skeletons reappeared completely and enclosed them. “Go, we’ll catch up!” Ashi told him. Jack nodded, and bracing himself, jumped from his spot, over the horde, and on to the stage.

Dreadskull faced him with his constant smirk. “Ha, they said you got chops! Not many make it to the stage in one piece. But you think that’s the only jam I got?!”. Dreadskull brought his hand down on the guitar strings, and from there a shockwave erupted that blasted Jack backwards. He felt blood trickle down his forehead, feeling a slight concussion from that. It seemed Dreadskull could manifest force into what it was as well, force.

Jack fired his pistol, but the shots stopped midair and crushed as Dreadskull continued playing, a force field stopping the gun fire. Jack scowled, knowing he could not defeat this enemy conventionally. If only he could stop the music, he thought. Then he noticed how the mike and other playing equipment had wires running in them. He saw that it all lead up from sound systems to the huge speakers behind Dreadskull, blasting his death metal to absurd volume. That was it!

Suddenly, Ashi, Cassius, and Agalia came up behind him. They barely managed to make it, and were a bit torn and bleeding here and there. “(Huffs)Ugh, so, can we kick this guy’s ass now?” Cassius asked as he huffed for stamina. “Not quite, his power is preventing all form of attack. But I think we can lessen it and use his own equipment to beat him.” Jack stated. “We can distract him, you do what you have to.” Ashi stated. “I need you all to clear out when I give the signal, understand?” Jack said to them all. They nodded, and so did he.

Ashi, Cassius, and Agalia charged at Dreadskull, and he just smirked even more. “Dumbassses, this will be easy!” he asserted as he blasted another force wave at the three. They barely dodged, and all three fired their firearms at him, only force him to stand there and block it with his force power music. More skeletons surrounded them now, and Cassius and Agalia decided to take them while Ashi kept Dreadskull busy with her SMG, since a frontal attack would have her blown away.

Thanks to their assault, Dreadskull didn’t notice Jack jump up on top of the massive speakers. Jack lifted his sword and let it reflect the overhead light. The three noticed and backed away, Dreadskull thinking they were backing off in fear. Jack cut the wires, causing the death metal-filled atmosphere to fall largely quiet with a static stop. The majority of the skeletons suddenly vanished, as Dreadskull suddenly felt his power drop drastically. “Huh, what the hell happened to my vibe?!” he said as he looked around at his equipment. He turned to the speakers as he saw them falling down towards him, Jack using all his leverage to tilt the top just a second ago.

Dreadskull became wide eyed, playing desperately to amass a strong enough forcefield in vain. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!”. The speakers crashed down on top of him with the sound of one last guitar sound, the sound itself indicating sudden interruption and loss of tempo. Jack looked from the fallen wreckage to his comrades. They were all roughed up like him, but mostly intact.

“YEAHHHH!” a crowd suddenly cheered. All four turned back to see the crowd from earlier cheering them on for their success, grateful for their actions. Agalia breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, glad all her local friends were safe. She turned to see Cassius walk up to her and smile. “Guess you’re their local star now. You’re on hell of a fighter.” he remarked. Agalia blushed slightly at this, not used to praise for her actions. “Th-thanks.” she said. Jack and Ashi looked on, a bit awkward at how to approach either those two or the crowd. “Hmph, and he criticizes us for that.”Ashi said as she smirked. Jack chuckled tentatively at that, not sure how he should comment. Still, he enjoyed the now pleasant atmosphere as he looked on.

…

           Jack and Ashi roused from their slumber and started to get dressed. Last night was quite the ordeal, so once they got to Agalia’s home, they didn’t celebrate or anything, just dropped into sleep. They were still a bit sore from then, but their wounds were patched up and their stamina good again. They turned to the kitchen. Inside was Cassius helping Agalia make breakfast, or rather the other way around, as he was used to scraps and was no cook. Andrea was giving him an earful, yelling “How the hell does a full grown young man not know how to feed himself?!”.

           All three turned at the pair’s approach. “Ah, look who woke from the dead. Breakfast will be ready soon, as long as your “ladies man” friend here stops screwing up.” Andrea said as she turned a criticizing eye to Cassius. “Hey, it’s not like that! J-just wanted to be useful, okay.” Cassius stuttered with slight embarrassment. For a guy who criticized Jack and Ashi on their romance, it seems relationships of that nature were actually unfamiliar to him. All of them except Cassius laughed lightly, Cassius himself sulking from that.

Once he was done burning food, they began eating what was saved for breakfast. As they munched on, Agalia brought up something she wanted to ask for a while. “So Jack, I never got to ask since we were fighting then, but it’s true, you’re THE Samurai Jack?!”. “Ah, well, yes, that is what I am called.” he said with slight embarrassment. He always felt this way about his reputation. “Oh my god, I always wondered what you were like! I mean, an actual samurai with a katana fighting the Magnus Protectorate, facing the odds, how cool is that?! I mean, we heard out here, but I didn’t know you guys were the renegades fighting the Protectorate. Except Cass, never heard of him before.” Agalia said in glee. “Hey, I’m still new, give me a break!” Cassius said in response to that comment.

Agalia then got a bit fidgeted and nervous. “S-so, I guess that means you’re up fighting Magnus and his soldiers, huh?” she asked tentatively. “Yes, it has… not been easy.” he said with dismay. Despite how far he came, it still felt like he had to cross an ocean and climb a mountain just to reach Magnus. That was how difficult he had come to realize his present ordeal. While Aku fought through deception and his minions, Magnus was a force to be reckoned with, blocking Jack off with every resource he had in an effort to crush him straight out. If Aku’s hand was deceptive and out of reach, then Magnus’s could be defined as imposing force.

“W-well, if it’s okay with you, maybe I can help and, uh, tag along?” Agalia finally asked. Jack and Ashi were dumbfounded, not really prepared for that kind of request. But they recovered quickly, understanding that it was not out of the blue. It became obvious that Agalia was very hostile to the Magnus Protectorate, so of course she would take a chance to fight them.

“You seem very capable, but are you sure about this? We are journeying to Novas Sanctum, it will be dangerous.” Jack said. “Seriously?! Then of course I’m going! If you’re fighting Magnus head on, I want to help! I mean, you guys helped me, so I have to help you, no buts!” Agalia stated. Jack sighed, knowing he couldn’t really turn down that enthusiasm. He turned to Ashi, who nodded with a smile. Then he turned to Cassius, who said “Why not? She was a real badass last night, I respect that.”.

Finally, he turned to Andrea. “Miss Andrea, I am sorry, but do you approve of your niece coming with us?”. ““Miss” Andrea? Sheesh, I thought men this needlessly polite were extinct. Well, can’t say I’m happy about it, but you all did right by me and this town last night. She’s an adult too, and she can look after herself, from what you said.” Andrea approved. “T-thanks Boss!” Agalia said as she hugged her. “Just one thing. If she gets to be a pain in the ass, then kick her ass back here, alright?”, “B-Boss?!” Andrea and Agalia bickered. “We will look after her, thank you.” Jack said.

           “Alright! I’m going to get my stuff and the ride ready, meet me in garage, okay?” she said as she took off. As everyone went get ready, Jack finally noticed something in the living room. There was a picture of a family. In it was a man in mechanic’s clothing with rough, blue hair, accompanied by a woman with dirty blond hair. Between them was a smiling blue haired girl. All of them were smiling. “Wondering about that, huh?” said a voice startling Jack. He saw it was Andrea, who had a somber expression.

“You probably knew earlier that Agalia has actual reasons for hating the Protectorate, not just because there are jackasses in it. Well, that there is the heart of it. The girl there is Agalia, and the goof of a man there is my brother and her father. That woman there is Agalia’s mother, kept my brother in check when I couldn’t. They helped me run things around town, we were a tight knit little community, and a good family.”.

“Well, one day the Protectorate tried dragging the sons of a friend’s family out for drafting. My brother and his wife wouldn’t stand for it, and gave them a good throttle. Then some 2nd Class Inquisitor went and shot them, right in front of Agalia, and took those young boys anyway. Could barely even get Agalia to eat, let alone speak. It took a whole year for the whole settlement to get Agalia to warm up again. We were all glad to have that sweet girl back. Except, ever since then, she hated the Protectorate. Spat at them, threw rocks at them, anything to vent out what she’s still feeling. That’s part of why she got so emotional about the drafting. A huge part of the reason why I’m such a hardass on her is because I don’t want her to end up like her parents.” Andrea lamented.

She turned to face Jack. “Listen, try not to bring this up to her, let her be the first. I just thought you should know in case she does something reckless. At my age, I can’t stop her anymore, so I’m hoping with people like you she will learn to move on and not throw her life away. Sorry to throw all this heavy stuff on you, but that girl’s sake means a lot to me.”. Jack sympathized with the both of them, knowing the pain and frustration of losing family like that, and not wanting to lose anyone, anymore. “Thank you, for telling me that. We will do what we can.” Jack said. “Thanks. Well, you better get a move on. That girl has too much energy, let me tell ya.”.

…

Jack’s company stood in the garage before the unveiled vehicle before them. It was decided not to take the armored tank like vehicle, as it was too slow to outrun pursuits. Fortunately, Agalia said she had a newer, more sleek combat vehicle she made herself. It was some four-wheeled car, somehow both sturdy and sleek. It was well armored, and had a sizable area in the bock for storing weapons. It even had a convertible function, in case of rain, she explained. There were mounted machine guns, fiercer than the ones on his motorcycle, and even a rocket launcher beneath. Whatever unfathomable car this was, there was no way it was legal. Not like that mattered in their case though.

“It is certainly a veritable vessel” Jack said with appreciation. “Thanks, I’ve been working on this badass for a while now, just finished last week. Since we’re going on a long journey and all, I decided to call her, “the Odyssey”.” Agalia said with pride. “The journey and story of the legendary Greek hero?” Jack recalled from his learning in his time. “Yep, inspiring, huh?” Agalia said. “Um, what’s the Odyssey, and what Greek hero?” Ashi asked. They all turned to her in surprise, unable to believe she never even heard of Odysseus, then Jack understood as he remembered her upbringing. “I will tell you the story later, I think you will enjoy it.” Jack said.

“Well Boss, I’m off.” Agalia said as she hugged Andrea goodbye. “Take care of yourself. Just one very important reminder. Watch out for that Cass fellow, he looks like the type that runs out on you.” Andrea said with a distrustful look to Cassius. “Alright, that’s enough! Do I look like womanizing scum to you?!”, “Yes.” she said without hesitation. Cassius sat in the car’s backseat, only capable of grumbling to himself. They all began to pack in the car. Jack thought Agalia was going to be in the driver’s seat, but instead she sat in the back.

“What, you’re the designated driver of this whole road trip, so you should be the one behind the wheel.” she said as she smiled. “V-very well, if you insist. He got into the driver’s seat, with Ashi occupying the opposite one. Though a bit different from a motorcycle, the mechanics were similar enough th omake the connections and understand what they did. Jack gripped the steering wheel and readied the ignition, the bristling engine flaring to life. “Ready to hit the road?” Ashi asked as she looked at him with a smile. “Yes, let’s go.” he said with another smile as the Odyssey drove out of the garage and onto the road leaving the junkyard.

…

“Ughhh, Ooooowww, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.” cried out a pathetic figure in a full body cast. Resting in this Magnus Protectorate care facility was Dreadskull, who had been literally crushed by the Renegade Samurai a few days prior and now receiving treatment for his severe injuries. If his remaining forces hadn’t found him, he’d probably have died underneath all that wreckage. It would take a long while till he was able again though.

“When I find that Samurai Jackass, I’m gonna…” Dreadskull said before he was interrupted. “Inquisitor, phone for you. It’s Chief Advisor Xander, he wants to talk to you about your mission.” said one of the care staff. “Uh, tell him I’m not here, no tell him I’m still knocked out, just don’t let him…”, “Inquisitor, ahem, “Dreadskull, is it true you failed to stop and eliminate the Samurai?” said a voice from the phone pressed to him. “Ah, well, see that’s a funny story, so you see…”, “Oh, give me that Xander! Theodore, you dumbass! You’re fired!” said the voice of Magnus as he seized the phone line from Xander.

“Wha, fired?! No, wait, Lord Protector, boss man, I can fix this, I, uh, hello, HELLO?!” Dreadskull, or rather, Theodore, as was his real name, pleaded when suddenly the phone line ended and was replaced with beeping. “Ah Shit.”.

Author’s Notes: Whoa, longest chapter yet. I planned a lot for this one, including bringing in a new character to join Jack, plus this new joke villain I came up with. That’s why it took longer than usual to write up this one, plus I’ve been a bit busy, but I spent a lot of thinking and writing here. Agalia is meant to be a more “cheerful” member of Jack’s group, but she’s a bit headstrong and trigger fingered, and you got the spiel about her own tragic past. In other words, she’s kind of this upbeat person carrying quite a bit of negative baggage and trying to hide it. You probably picked up something going on between her and Cassius. Right now, it’s just picking fun at him, but I’ll try to advance it further later.

Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten Jack and Ashi’s relationship, but try to remember, I don’t have much experience with this and romance isn’t my strong suit. Now, Dreadskull, or Theodore, was this joke villain I’ve been thinking up a while now. Samurai Jack has had plenty of joke characters, both good people and villains. So this guy was designed with them in mind, while I tried to be original. If he’s the same as another fictional character, sorry I didn’t know, not trying to plagiarize.

When I started, I was trying to think up a shtick, as most SJ villains have one, usually making them eccentric. I remembered the DJ from the original one, and I think Scaramouche is still rather fresh for everyone, so I decided to make another music loving villain, and chose death metal. I don’t hate death metal, not trying to trash it either, just thought it give him real flair. As part of the joke though, he sucks at it. I used the fact that I can’t write lyrics to save my life to help with that, haha. I kept him alive for that last gut punch at the end, plus I’m thinking up to bring him one more or even two more times later, in Arcs 2 and 3. Let’s just say he will be jamming that guitar again with a certain Season 5 flute lover.

Now, I’m going to take a break, because I’m exhausted now, but I already got ideas for VIII. Jack’s group will be helping a group inspired by a faction from a videogame I love as they face a mutant plague, the Abominables. I’ll have one more chapter after that where Jack will be facing an Inquisitor who follows bushido customs like him and press more guilt onto Jack, and then we’ll be looking at the shocking end of Arc 1. Man, I just want to write this stuff now, but I’m so tired. Till next time, enjoy!

[psychicdan]

Chapter VII: As Jack, Ashi, and their new companion travel across Magnus's domain, they are ambushed by the forces of the Magnus Protectorate. They are soon helped by a young able mechanic, who requests their help to save her friends. But to do so, Jack must face the Inquisitor there, a new lethal adversary who is a...death metal artist?

Samurai Jack: Renegade Samurai

Rating M for graphic depictions, language, violence and suggestive themes

Warning:

The following is a work of fanfiction and is not intentionally connected to real world places, events, or people, nor intended to copy others’ work. Samurai Jack is the work of Genndy Tartakovsky, his team and affiliated studios and companies. This is solely fanfiction for fun and not profit.

Chapter VII: Mechanics and Death Metal

           Within the steel, towering Citadel that overlooked the grand Capital city of Novas Sanctum, the Lord Protector, Magnus, sat on his throne with his hand over his face in dismay. “So then, we lost Inquisitor Maxil?” he asked his closest aide Xander. “It would seem so, Lord Protector. His last report showed him closing in on Samurai Jack, and all communication from him and his troops vanished. We investigated Havenground, but found nothing conclusive, not even their remains.” Xander reported.

           Magnus sighed, saying “I figured as much. I could feel his presence vanish, which could only mean either the ward I placed on him was removed or he died.”. As part of each 1st Class Inquisitor’s vow to the Lord Protector, he placed wards on each of them, so that he could feel both their life force and loyalty to him. It was by no means a tracker, nor did it technically shackle their free will. But, if they died in service to him or their loyalty ever sway, he would know. As a result, if it was the second, then they would wish they were dead instead. That was how he kept his most powerful in check.

           “Well, Maxil was hardly the strongest of our Inquisitors. He was always too eager to improve his standing. But to lose such an accomplished soldier is unacceptable. It damages our morale, troubles the people, and is a damn insult to us all. Xander, who is the nearest 1st Class Inquisitor to the Samurai’s last spotted location?” Magnus inquired.

           Xander was streaming through the device’s reports, filtering through suspect data and military personnel information. “Let’s see, based on his last suspected sighting, the Samurai is likely in Sector E8, seen leaving with the defector Ashi from one of our settlements before Cyber Troopers arrived. Strange, the reports indicate a third person in a leather coat there with them.” he reported, a bit baffled.

           “Ignore it, Xander. Whoever it is can’t be important, probably just another dumbass over his head like Jack, but remember who the targets are.” Magnus stated. “Sorry, I’ll just list him as an accomplice and leave it at that. Now, from our listed personnel in that Sector, the nearest 1st Class in the area is…uhh, ohhh, umm…” Xander said with discomfort and pause. His face was cramped up, like he was eating a stale expired fruit cake.

           “Well, come on Xander, spit it out, we don’t have all day!” Magnus shouted, impatient for results. Xander gave a long sigh, knowing neither he nor the Lord Protector would like the response. “Inquisitor… Dreadskull, Lord Protector”. Magnus gave a long, audible groan as he facepalmed with both hands, already having a migraine hit him with that name. “You’ve got to be SHITTING ME! That dumbass?! UGGH! Of all 11 remaining Inquisitors, why HIM?! Why did we even let him change his name to that?!”.

           “He does get some results in, and before you approved him, he was quite competent as a 3rd and 2nd Class.” Xander countered. “And ever since then, I knew I made a mistake and he must have cheated his way somehow! The only reason he’s still where he is that power of his is somewhat useful. Otherwise, I would have dumped him on the streets and let him be someone else’s headache! God, what is he even doing there anyways?” Magnus lamented, feeling like his migraine was turning into a tumor just from thinking about it.

“According to the logs, he is reportedly on recruitment drive. But, the personnel we placed with him state he is doing so by having another one of his… concerts.” Xander said, feeling awkward from the unprofessional details. “Of course, he’s still plaguing the world with that trash he calls music. He must be tone deaf to not know how terrible he makes it. Great, I give him a real job, and instead he’s jerking off to that stupid guitar of his!” Magnus vented.

Magnus’s rage over this particular Inquisitor, in part, comes from a rather traumatic past experience. The Inquisitor in question had tried to hold one of his “concerts” in the main hall of the Citadel. The ensuing noise rocked the whole facility, and Magnus himself stampeded down to the area, unable to take another second. He destroyed all the equipment and threw the Inquisitor out on his ass, not removing his position, but the Lord Protector threatened if he pulled another stunt like that in the Citadel ever again, he was next on the execution list. Needless to say, that Inquisitor’s name alone pissed Magnus off to no end.

“Well, I don’t refuse that power gives him the advantage. Maybe he’ll blast the Samurai’s brains out or something with that trash. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll just kill each other.” Magnus mused. He knew he just said how bad it was to lose an Inquisitor, but he would be quite pleased to let this one go and take out the Renegade Samurai in the process. “All right, you handle informing him Xander. I want the renegades to suffer under that damn dumbass, not me.”.

…

A pair of motorcycles rode through the late day, the sun setting over the conifer treed area. Aside from these vehicles, the road, and of course the perpetual sign of occasional war wreckage, there was only nature to be seen. Jack, though he still had his eyes focused on the road, appreciated the sights and sounds of the trees and birds with a smile. Behind him, Ashi shared a similar expression, taking in the atmosphere as they drove on. “Wow, look at it all.” she said with a hint of wonder.

In the previous timeline, these natural landscapes were rare, as Aku had reduced many forests and other natural wonders to hopeless wastelands, one such sight being Jack’s proof of Aku’s true nature to Ashi. She had seen some vestiges of nature when searching for Jack, but they were a bit sparse and she had no time to gaze. In Jack’s time, when nature was almost untouched, it was as though she were living a dream, beholding unattainable majesty. When she had vanished and gained a new life in this new future, she had been confined to the steel walls of the Inner Sanctum, only knowing of nature thanks to her dreams and returned memories of the previous timeline with Jack.

Now that she had freed herself again from all that, she had witnessed with Jack the scenery of this world. It was honestly somewhere between Jack’s time and Aku’s time, but not really like either. Civilization was larger and more obstructive of nature than the people of Jack’s time, but there was still nature surrounding the cities at least, even plants within them, something Aku’s cities never had. There were no charred and barren wastelands like the demon’s world, at least as far as they knew, but that didn’t mean there were no scars.

Everywhere they went, reminders of the Near End War could be seen. Craters, skeletons, and war machine monoliths were scattered in every region, some sparse, others vastly littered, but it was never hard to find the remains of a battle. But, while this clearly ravaged the land in the past, nature was showing signs of revival, as only some battle areas remained partially barren and the area surrounding them lively again. Some battle sights were even returning to nature, with fauna and other plant life covering the war remains.

This forest was one such area, as the trees were rarely disrupted with the sight of a derelict monolith and continuing for miles. Instead of a battlefield, the swaying pine and leaf trees and passive wild life gave off a peaceful vibe, the kind only nature afforded.

“Even in the aftermath of such terrible strife and destruction, life flourishes and blooms.” Jack said in passive awe. He had seen many astounding sights, but none would amaze him more than the testament of nature itself. He felt Ashi tighten around his back, and Jack turned his head to see Ashi right beside his. He blushed as he smiled, as did she. “HEY! Lovebirds, eyes on the road!”.

Jack and Ashi broke sights in sheer embarrassment from that callout, not sure how to stare at each other. While Jack turned back to look at the road with an awkward discomfort, Ashi turned to look very upset at the one who ruined the moment.

“Will you shut it already!” she screamed across the road. Cassius, who was driving the other motorcycle behind, shrugged. “Dunno, depends on how many times you keep getting starlight in each other’s eyes. There’s a time and place for that you know. Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten caught by that patrol earlier if you saved that for later.”. “Maybe we wouldn’t have gotten caught if you did your job and kept watch while we got supplies! I saw you, you were definitely taking a nap!” Ashi retorted. “I-I wasn’t. I was keeping a low profile, something you two need to learn.” Cassius said a bit suddenly. “Right, low profile. That snoring was a great signal by the way.” Ashi said sarcastically. Jack sighed in response, knowing he had to get accustomed to this. He thought that he and Ashi had a rough start, at least Aku’s doctrine was responsible for most of the physical and verbal violence then. Ashi’s upfront personality and Cassius’s dismissive attitude had been at complete odds since they met. Honestly, Jack was wondering if they were going to kill each other before Magnus got the chance.  

As though in response to that thought, the roar of engines similar to their own rumbled from behind. Jack looked behind to see five motorcycles of grey and black aesthetic, each armed with dual machine guns like his, and mounting each were Cyber Troopers. “Samurai Jack, in the name of the Lord Protector and our commanding Inquisitor, you will stand down or be terminated!” shouted one on a mechanized speaker then. “Oh great, look what you did! The bucket heads are on our six now!”. “Because you slept on the job!”.

Jack was not willing to obey the Cyber Troopers. nor deal with this heated argument. So, he sharply turned and swerved his motorcycle without losing too much speed, sending him into the opposite direction towards the pursuit. He held out his sword, and as he came near one of the Protectorate cycles, slashed across it in one clean hit. For a split second, nothing happened, then the Protectorate cycle came undone in two pieces as they, and the Cyber Trooper, got caught in a fiery explosion.

The other motorcycles tried to swerve in their direction, but they had forgotten Cassius, which was a fatal mistake. He readied and aimed his laser revolver, blowing the head off one Cyber Trooped and making the cycle crash. His would share the same fate though. as an upcoming Protectorate cycle shot up the motorcycle and tires, making it grow unstable. Cassius barely jumped off in time before the veering motorcycle came to a crash. He turned to face the Protectorate cycle about to run him over, till it received machine gun fire in return. He looked in the direction to see Jack using his own mounted machine guns to shoot up the opposing cycle, causing that one to explode to. Another one behind them tried to use that tactic as they closely fired behind. Ashi took the initiative, bringing out her SMG and firing at the cycle. It would be difficult to inflict fatal shots on the driver, so she aimed at the cycle and tires instead. Damage in the right spots caused the cycle to swerve and speed up uncontrollably. Suddenly, it was on a collision course for Jack’s cycle. “JUMP!” he shouted. The pair did so, seeing from the air their cycle colliding with the Protectorate one, as they both crashed into a wall of trees and explode.

The pair landed on the road, then turned up to see the last Protectorate motorcycle zeroing in on them. Jack stood there with his sword readied, waiting for the right moment. Finally, the cycle got in firing range and engaged. Jack jumped right before the gunfire reached him, somersaulting over the ground to the enemy cycle. The Cyber Trooper was startled see the incoming Samurai rapidly approach him as Jack slashed with his sword using his own momentum, bisecting the Cyber Trooper and part of the cycle as they crashed thereafter. Jack landed gracefully in the aftermath of the following explosion, his sword dripping with blood.

He was about to cleanse and sheath his sword, until he heard the sound of rolling steel coming their way. Ashi and Cassius returned to his sides, and soon thereafter, driving up the road was an armored Protectorate tank of sorts. The tank closed in with machine guns and cannon pointed at the trio. All three had tense expressions as they readied their weapons. Though they faced worse odds, this would be an intense fight. Or it was going to be, till all three saw an overhead missile shoot straight for the tank. It collided with the armored tank, turning it into a ball of fire and shrapnel, leaving a crater on the road with only flaming, blackened metal wreckage in its wake.

The trio stared at the sight dumbfounded for a second, then looked towards the source of the missile. Driving towards them was another armored vehicle. But this one was not Protectorate, in fact it was far from professional. It was all mismatched parts and makeshift composition, as though it was assembled from junk parts. Jack recognized the various parts were similar to the old war wreckage, surmising it was all likely made from salvage. The armored vehicle approached them and stopped, but did not give off hostile intent.

A brief moment later, the hatch opened, and from that, a young girl emerged. She appeared to be the same age as Cassius, a young adult in very early 20s. She had brown eyes and dark blue hair. Aside from the strangely naturality of the color to it, her hair was in tuffs to the sides, the rest in a ponytail that reached down as far as her neck. Her skin was white, but more brightly colored compared to Cassius’s somewhat pale skin. Her complexion was clean and youthful, only marred by smudges here and there. Her attire and vehicle hinted why. She wore a red mechanic jacket over a faded brown shirt, both seeing some wear. Bellow that she wore pocketed black denim shorts that reached down to her knees. Below that, she wore faded yellow worker boots, clearly worn yet durable. She was of similar height to Ashi, but their clothing was very different, Ashi’s tight so that she could move quietly and quickly, and this person garbed in looser clothing for comfort.

Their rescuer spoke then. “Hey, you alright? Well, yeah, you’re alright I guess, but that’s just what you ask with this situation and all. Oh dear, um, uh, you got a ride out of here?” she asked on the fly. She didn’t seem shy so much as bashful, as it seemed she just blurted out what she said and felt only a bit self-conscious. Given the situation though, conversation would be awkward. The three looked to their motorcycles which were now flaming scrap parts. “I’m…afraid not.” Jack said a bit awkwardly and troubled. “Yeah, thanks to someone getting their attention.” Cassius said a bit callously, Ashi once again glaring at him for that remark.

“What’s his problem?” the girl asked. “Ignore him, he’s stupid and inconsiderate.” Ashi said without looking at the insulted Cassius. “Ah, gotcha. Well, how about you hitch a ride? The cyber bastards have a base not too far, so those patrols are regular. I can take you to my place till we get you sorted out.”. Jack, Ashi, and Cassius looked at each other. With Ashi nodding and Cassius giving a reluctant shrug, Jack turned to the girl. “Thank you very much, for both saving us and helping us further, miss…uh…”, “Agalia, but cut the miss, thanks.” the girl said with a smile.

…

As the sun began setting over the forested area, the makeshift armored vehicle approached a junkyard of sorts. Jack was a bit puzzled as to why they were headed there, but then he noticed some of the massed salvage resembled buildings like a home and garage. When they entered, he recognized most of it as the same derelict war remains that constantly dotted the landscape. Then they entered and parked in the sizable garage, where a few other machines, some covered, lie in wait.

           The garage, like the junkyard, was far from tidy, with junk parts, tools, and fluid cans strewn all over the floor. The walls were covered in schematic designs and tool racks, giving not much space there either. “Uh, sorry, not used to house guests.”. Agalia said. “It… speaks great character.” Jack said a bit awkwardly. “This place is a dump.”, “Cass!” Ashi said with disapproval. “Yeah, but it’s my dump. Well, me and my aunt’s. It’s almost suppertime, come on!” she said with energy as she led them from the garage and into the living area. Though this building was made partly from salvage too, all the various furniture and decorations gave off a family vibe.  They could hear sounds and smell tantalizing scents from a lit room nearby.

In there was the kitchen, with an older woman, likely in her 50s, with short braided graying hair and garbed in similar mechanics clothing. She was tending over a stew pot when she looked up. “Agalia, where the hell have you been?! I’m here making dinner, then you disappear and, for all I know, went to cause a row with the soldiers again! You know it’s not good going out there!” Agalia’s aunt chastised. “Heh, sorry Boss. Maybe I did get into a scrap, but it was to help these guys, see?” Agalia said as she gestured to Jack’s group.

Her aunt gazed at them as though analyzing a trinket to see what it was worth. “Hm, well aren’t you an odd lot? Not hard to figure out why you might get into a snag with the bucket heads, but like I care, just don’t bring ‘em here. Oh, and sorry for having you put up with my trigger-fingered niece here.” Agalia’s aunt said as she turned a criticizing glance to said niece. Agalia tried to laugh it off, albeit uncomfortably.

“Ahahaha, well, this here is my aunt Andrea, but myself and everyone else who works in the junkyard calls her Boss. That’s about a third of the settlement some ways from here, so the name spread, now everyone calls her that.” Agalia explained. “Great, had to remind me. Why is everyone there a bunch of idiots?” Andrea dismayed. “You’re good at keeping everyone on track, even help the farmers and wildlife workers, remember?” Agalia explained. “Hmph, that reminds me, why am I doing everything around here?! Agalia, stop fooling around and help me! We’ve got a meal of 5 to get ready, so help me out! You three, the soup will be ready soon, so find the dining table and sit down till it’s ready, alright?” she said with a bit of sternness. Jack, Ashi, and Cassius found themselves unable to counter to an offer like that, so Jack simply said, “Thank you.” a bit awkwardly as they did as she told them. Soon, Andrea and Agalia came in, with Andrea setting the table and Agalia pouring out the heavy pot of soup. They all sat down and began to eat.

As they enjoyed the nicely made soup, Ashi began to inquire. “So, Agalia, you and your aunt bot live and work here?” she asked. “Yep, it’s only the two of us that live here. Everyone else who works here in the day lives in the settlement. Most people either salvage, work in farms, or tend to the wildlife. This place used to be a battle sight in the war, but the land was still fair afterwards, so it recovered well in those reforestation and recovery efforts that are still going on I hear. That’s what wildlife workers used to do, now they just make sure we don’t ruin the forest. As for us, we salvage and clean up all that war junk. It was just the cleanup at first, I hear, but now we make some good revenues by salvaging it and selling what we can. Course, we can’t rebuild those weapons, for, well, obvious reasons.” Agalia explained.

“Hold on, if that wasn’t a weapon, then what do you call it? A stroller?” Cassius asked with scepticism. Agalia became awkward at that, and Andrea spoke, if only to criticize her niece rather than explain. “Like I said, this here niece of mine is a trigger-fingered pain in the ass. She’s held a real grudge against the Protectorate for years, and now she keeps turning scrap into anything that shoots or goes boom! I kept trying to scrap it back to junk, but she just rebuilds everything in secret, so I stopped trying. Now I just keep her away from them by having her focus on the job, which apparently someone needs to learn.”.

“Did the Protectorate wrong you in some way?” Jack asked Agalia with a serious glance. Suddenly, Agalia’s cheerful and bashful nature vanished, as she now looked down with a somber gaze. Jack realized then that he must have inquired into something too personal, and tried to apologize. “I-I am sorry, I did not mean to…”, “I-it isn’t all complicated, I just hat those sons-of-bitches is all! I mean seriously, they started a fight with you on the road, I saw, and you don’t know how they’ve been acting lately. They keep harassing everyone, usually about raising the tax, or reminding us to be grateful to Magnus, yadda, yadda, yadda.” Agalia explained as she tried to defuse the oppressive atmosphere.

“The worst part though is the drafting. Those bucket heads apparently don’t get enough recruits. Heh, that’s surprising, considering their charming manners. So, they sometimes make an announcement that they need “fine, able recruits” to fill out their ranks. Not many volunteers then, probably because being turned into a cyborg doesn’t sound great. So, they sometimes just grab you right then and there. Heck, they barge into your home and take your family sometimes too.” Agalia said with bitterness.

“That’s enough, they only do that when the Sectors need more patrols, and it’s not like it’s all dangerous, so long as you’re not shooting them. Most join up without complaint, remember?” Andrea explained, trying to calm her niece. “They’ve been acting like jackasses! Hell, I hear that guy in charge of the base has been using some weird marketing tactic to get more recruits, how is that not bad?!” Agalia retorted. “That’s just one idiot, don’t let that get to you. This will all be over soon, alright? So stuff your gripes, I won’t have it!” Andrea shouted to finish this family argument. They all returned to eating the soup, Andrea and Agalia rather bitter about it, while Jack, Ashi, and Cassius were rather awkward as they ate following that heated conversation.

As they nearly finished, a loud banging came from the front door. They all got up and went to the door, as they were alarmed by the urgency. When opened, a young worker straggled in, out of breath. “B-boss! Agalia! We’ve got trouble!” he panted out with his breath. “Whoa, slow down, what happened?” Andrea asked with clear seriousness. The worker collected his thoughts and his breath as he recounted. “There were rumors going around that some huge music artist was touring in the area, and that got a lot of the young workers in the settlement excited. Some of the guys asked if I wanted to go with them, but I said I wasn’t interested. When I saw them off in those busses though, I saw some Cyber Troopers off to the distance, and the busses took off for their base! I think this is that recruitment scam thing that’s been going on!” the worker said with great fear.

Apprehension seized Agalia, as most of those people were peers and co-workers her own age, her friends. She stormed off then to the garage. “A-Agalia, what do you think you’re doing?!” Andrea screamed after her as they all followed. Agalia moved a schematic paper and pressed button beneath. Suddenly, the wall flipped, revealing a whole weapon rack of various makeshift tools of destruction. “Damn, this girl means business.” Cassius said with both astonishment and appreciation.

           Agalia began strapping on the various guns to her person and then loading what she couldn’t on to the armored vehicle. “Oh no, you are not going to go start a gun fight! It doesn’t matter if you bring bigger guns, they got a lot more guns and people there. I am not having my dumbass niece kill herself!” Andrea shouted as she moved to stop her. “Don’t worry, she’s not going this alone.” Cassius said as she stood by Agalia, Agalia herself being surprised by this. Jack and Ashi were similarly surprised, as it seemed Cassius was the type to follow others initiative rather than his own.

“Hey Jack, we are doing something about this right? I mean, we’re not about to let them pull this kind of shit, right?” Cassius said, a clear invitation for some assistance. Jack and Ashi understood, knowing that they would have helped anyways. “Don’t worry, Agalia, we’re going to stop them and get your fiends back.” Ashi said with resolve. “Y-you guys…” Agalia said, a bit shocked to receive support in her recklessness. Jack turned to bow his head to Andrea. “We are so very sorry for our imposition, but we would like to assist your niece in her endeavor. Please, we promise we will see to her safety and return her friends safely as well.” Jack promised.

Andrea gave a long sigh. “Honestly, I knew I couldn’t stop that dumbass, even if I dragged on her feet. I thought an old lady like myself would have to march there myself and take a shot for her. Well, you three look like you can handle yourselves well, so make sure that pain-in-the-ass comes back in one piece, you hear?”. Jack nodded with affirmation, promising not to let anything happen to her niece. “B-boss…” Agalia said, absolutely stunned by her aunt’s acceptance. “I keep putting up with the Protectorate, telling myself they got their reasons and such, and honestly, not many are that bad. But whoever’s running the show there really has his head up his ass, and messed with my employees. I’m going to be frank, go kick ass, Agalia.” Andrea said with a fierce smile. Agalia nodded back with a similar smile.

Soon enough, all four helped to pack up the armored vehicle. When they were done, Agalia turned back to Andrea. “I’ll be back with everyone, Boss.”, “You better, how’s a person my age supposed to handle all this heavy lifting?!”. They both laughed, and Agalia turned back to Jack and the rest. “Are you ready?” Jack asked. “Yeah, let’s go.”.

…

The armored vehicle drove through the evening-skied forest, with the stars beginning to replace the set sun. In the distance, Jack’s group could see a lit-up clearing which came into focus as they got closer. They were surprised by what they saw though.

“Wait, that’s a base? Why is it all out in the open like that? Where are all the walls and stuff?” Ashi asked with bewilderment. The Protectorate “base” up ahead had to be the place, as the tracks led there and the busses could be seen, but it was hardly fortified. In fact, it looked like a stadium of some sort, with a wide-open field in the middle of rounded walls with seats in them. The lights strangely didn’t look outward to search, but shone on the area inside. There was a stage in front of the clearing to, and it looked like people were gathering in the field before it. The whole place looked like it was constructed on the go. There were Protectorate vehicles and provisional buildings nearby, but that was more of an additional encampment. What strategic purpose did this strange building serve?

“The rumor was something about a music artist touring through here. Maybe they set this all up to make the scam look convincing or something?” Cassius suggested as he scratched his head. For a drafting scam, this was going rather convincingly far, unnecessarily so, in fact. It had to be drafting, since the Magnus Protectorate was involved. They weren’t exactly patrons of the free arts, so there was no way they were sponsoring a music artist. Jack was a bit baffled as well, but he kept his guard up. This reminded him of the other timeline, where a servant of Aku used rave music altered by Aku’s dark magic to enslave youths to do his bidding. This all looked too familiar to that.

Beside him, Agalia was gripping some makeshift tool weapon. She explained earlier that it was something she made herself for both work and self-defense. On one end of the rod-like tool was something that could be interchanged with various tool ends like wrenches, screwdrivers, blowtorches, etc. Right now, she had a hammer affixed for fighting. The other end had a makeshift shotgun. She carried other firearms on her, but she said this was a personal favorite. She looked down at the stage area, undeterred by the bizarreness of it all and ready to take action.

Jack returned his gaze to the view, knowing now was the time. “Let’s go” he said. The vehicle drove down to the stadium entrance. Strangely, no Cyber Troopers could be seen, and the entrance was open. However, they couldn’t drive the vehicle through. Jack and company exited the vehicle and entered the stadium, cautiously watching out in each direction. Before them was the crowd, dressed up in a strange style. They wore all black clothing, some in tatters and some with strange diagrams like skulls and other gothic elements. Their accessories were like so as well, such metal armbands, chain necklaces and such. It probably had something to do with the theme of whatever music event they were expecting.

Suddenly, the lights went out, then centered on the stage. Smoke was gathering there, and then, BAM!, an explosion effect triggered there, and standing at the center of it all was a man with a guitar. He was tall and well-toned, but that was hardly most characteristic of him. He had long silver dyed hair and a face painted like a skull. His clothing and attire were similar to the crowd, but if analyzed, it could be seen his gothic style was also Protectorate themed, if only barely with the gray and black aesthetic.

Specifically, he was shirtless with only a grey, torn up open jacket on his top and wearing a spiked choker across his neck. Across his body were tattoos, such as a flaming skull on the front. On his right shoulder was the Magnus Protectorate shield and saluting figure insignia tattooed there as well, indicating he may, somehow, be affiliated with that group. He wore torn black leather pants and spiked leather shoes.

The man jumped over to the mike and began to yell into it. “YOOO, how is everybody?! Are you ready to ROCK?! Are you ready to party you souls to HELL?!”, “YEAHHHH!” the crowd cheered. “Alright, then get ready to tear up the ground, while I, INQUISITOR DREADSKULL, lay down some sick beats!” the Inquisitor yelled on. Suddenly he gripped his guitar, and using his pick, he started playing. Suddenly, two flaming skeleton figures appeared beside him and started playing bass and drums. Then the mix of guitar and drum noises kicked up in cacophonous manner.

“Stay down, stay low, for here come the armies of hell! Ravage savages, killer criminals, and all manners death bringer! You stay down, you stay low, wondering when the end will come. Suddenly you see him, you cheer him, and all the monsters cry before him! MAGNUS! Our Lord Protector! MAGNUS! Our savior and ruler!” Dreadskull sang on. His lyrics, sang in a mix of long guttural speech and high-pitched screeching, kept yelling about hell, monsters, and of course Magnus propaganda.

Apparently, no one liked it, as everyone, including Jack’s company, was kneeling down and covering their ears from the poor guitar playing, banging drums, and screaming that was going on. Jack tried to think through the pain, wondering how Magnus allowed anyone to sing this badly about him. “GAHH, what is this?!” Ashi screamed. “UGHHH, it’s death metal! Really shitty death metal though!” Cassius screamed back. Suddenly, the music stopped abruptly with a static pause.

“HEY, I heard that! Which one of you shitheads said my beats were shit?!” Dreadskull screamed. “BOOOO!” the whole cried out. “You suck!”, “Get off the stage!”, “This is shit!” were the various remarks people in the crowd were making. Dreadskull looked very upset, his ego unwilling to take any form of criticism. As far as he was concerned, he was a death metal god.

“Alright, that’s it! I wanted to invite you back country bumpkins to the Magnus Protectorate nicely and treat you to the best damn concert of your lives, but it seems no one in the sticks has taste! So guess what, I’m just drafting you all on the spot! Troops, be bros and put all these damn ingrates on the busses!” Dreadskull screamed out. Suddenly, the exit slammed shut, and from the stadium walls, Cyber Troopers stormed in with restraints. The crowd tried to run away, but they saw there was no way out. People at the edge screamed as the Troopers began to raise their weapons.

Suddenly, one of the Cyber Troopers cried out in death as a hammer slammed through their helmet. Agalia lifted her blood-soaked weapon from the corpse and looked at the enemy with resolve. The Cyber Troopers all prepared to fire, but then Jack, Ashi, and Cassius moved in cutting down the surprised Cyber Troopers who fought in vain. The company of four turned to look at Dreasdskull then, who looked surprise till he smiled with realization.

“Well, if it isn’t Samurai Jack, the Renegade Samurai who’s been stirring shit up. I gotta say, you really screwed with the wrong crowd. After what you did to Maxil, my main man the Lord Protector called me and told me to kick your ass! Well, he said to kill you, but you get the point! You really must have pissed him off. But to think you would have strolled right into my concert. Did you want my autograph, because I respect people who would die for it you know?” the Inquisitor gloated. Jack narrowed his eyes. This person acted in ridiculous manner, but something told him that this person was dangerous.

“Anyways, like I was saying, I was here doing my recruitment drive, inviting people to the cause with my sick beats, and then the Lord Protector tells me you’re passing through and to eliminate you at all cost. I was planning a road block concert or something, but you actually came here! Man, this is great! Maybe the Lord Protector will be a bro and let me do that apology concert in the Citadel for this!” Dreadskull mused on. He conveniently left out that it was Xander who told him as an acting proxy, not Magnus himself. He seemed to take Magnus’s threat of execution not all that seriously.

“Shut it! First, we’re gonna kick your ass for tricking all my friends here and trying to kidnap them! And second, you really suck at guitar and talk too much, you know that?!” Agalia screamed at him. Dreadskull scowled at that, then smirked in confidence. “Oh, you’re dead wrong about that, bitch! Let me show you how killer I am with this baby!”.

Dreadskull started thrashing on the guitar again. The ephemeral skeletons that played drum and base, who had vanished earlier, reappeared and started playing again. They weren’t alone though. Suddenly, a whole horde of ephemeral skeletons, dressed in gothic fashion similar to Dreadskull, manifested in front of Jack and the others.

“Oh, almost forgot. Troops, my bros, get started on that laser lightshow, like we rehearsed!” Dreadskull commanded. Suddenly, from the tops of the walls Cyber Troopers emerged in firing positions. Rather than bullet based firearms, they seemed to be using laser weapons, obviously a theatric Dreadskull was going for. “Shit, more of them. Looks like this guy’s an Inquisitor for a reason, at least one.” Cassius said as he stared from the overhead soldiers to the skeletal horde.

It was a ridiculous gimmick, but all four of them realized how deadly it was. Suddenly, the music intensified, and the horde charged and the troops fired. Jack and Ashi engaged the front charge, slashing at the skeletons who vanished with each hit, but more manifested from the rear to take their place. Cassius aimed at the overhead soldiers with his laser revolver, but it took time, and he only managed to shoot two before the horde forced him to defend with his cybernetic photon sword.

Agalia hammered at the coming skeletons, smashing them to bone bits before they vanished. She fired with the shot gun end, blowing back several in a line with each shot. But this fighting style did not help much against overwhelming numbers, and soon she was surrounded. As she stares at the flaming ephemeral skeletons, teeth gritted, she prepared for the onslaught when suddenly an unusual sword from behind them cut them up.

Running over the vanishing skeletal remains was Cassius, who looked a bit ragged and torn, but no worse for wear. “We should follow their lead and watch each other’s backs.” he said as he gestured to Jack and Ashi, who were keeping the skeletons from getting in each other’s quarters. Cassius and Agalia followed suit, cutting down skeletons that approached and keeping each other’s space from the enemy. However, that was starting to wear on all of them, and it did not help that they needed to dodge and block the laser fire from overhead.

“(Huffs) We’re getting run ragged here, and that damn music is getting on my nerves!” Cassius vented. “I got an idea, but first we need to take care of the bucket heads! Can you cover me for a bit?” Agalia asked. Cassius nodded, not sure what trick she had up her sleeve, but willing to trust it. As he fended off the skeletons from her, Agalia drew out some sort of control tablet and started giving inputs. Her specialty was mechanics, but she also knew some things about electronics too. She was glad she implemented this.

Outside the stadium, the armored vehicle Jack’s company drove in started up. Agalia could see a display of what the vehicles sights were, and started directing it to get in motion. Outside, it aimed its main weapon, then fired a missile. The troops were so focused on the stadium grounds, they never saw the missile or explosion that blew them and the portion of the wall off. Dreadskull and the troops were surprised, wondering where that fire was coming from. Suddenly, more explosions blew the tops of the stadium walls, taking out all the Cyber Troopers.

“Damn, this is why I prefer a solo career.” Dreadskull muttered. He didn’t count his ephemeral skeleton horde, it was his own power. The power the Lord Protector awakened in him fit his passions perfectly. It allowed him to manifest force into several forms, all based on the death metal he played. Often, he manifested these flaming ephemeral skeletons because of how cool they were and easy it was for him to imagine. How much he could manifest and how powerful depended on how loud and passionately he played, mostly loud though.

That’s why, despite how useful this power was in this situation, he couldn’t fully use it on the spot, so that’s part of the reason why Inquisitors like Maxil didn’t consider him fairly strong. In a concert though, he was king. That’s why, after the recruitment drive, he was going to set up a stage like road block, ambushing the Samurai in Dreadskull’s best advantage. Thanks to the Samurai’s meddling though, Dreadskull could finally please Magnus here and now. He didn’t stand a chance so long as he was still rockin’.

Jack was beginning to feel the fatigue take him, knowing that Dreadskull had the advantage and he needed to end it. He already figured out the music had something to do with it, as the bass and drums skeletons vanished when he stopped playing earlier. He just needed to get through the horde and get on stage to stop him, but that proved difficult.

“Jack, get back!” Agalia shouted. He did so, and saw a makeshift grenade got tossed into the horde. An explosion ripped through, and in its wake a portion of the area cleared. “Quickly!” Jack shouted as the others followed. They neared the stage when the skeletons reappeared completely and enclosed them. “Go, we’ll catch up!” Ashi told him. Jack nodded, and bracing himself, jumped from his spot, over the horde, and on to the stage.

Dreadskull faced him with his constant smirk. “Ha, they said you got chops! Not many make it to the stage in one piece. But you think that’s the only jam I got?!”. Dreadskull brought his hand down on the guitar strings, and from there a shockwave erupted that blasted Jack backwards. He felt blood trickle down his forehead, feeling a slight concussion from that. It seemed Dreadskull could manifest force into what it was as well, force.

Jack fired his pistol, but the shots stopped midair and crushed as Dreadskull continued playing, a force field stopping the gun fire. Jack scowled, knowing he could not defeat this enemy conventionally. If only he could stop the music, he thought. Then he noticed how the mike and other playing equipment had wires running in them. He saw that it all lead up from sound systems to the huge speakers behind Dreadskull, blasting his death metal to absurd volume. That was it!

Suddenly, Ashi, Cassius, and Agalia came up behind him. They barely managed to make it, and were a bit torn and bleeding here and there. “(Huffs)Ugh, so, can we kick this guy’s ass now?” Cassius asked as he huffed for stamina. “Not quite, his power is preventing all form of attack. But I think we can lessen it and use his own equipment to beat him.” Jack stated. “We can distract him, you do what you have to.” Ashi stated. “I need you all to clear out when I give the signal, understand?” Jack said to them all. They nodded, and so did he.

Ashi, Cassius, and Agalia charged at Dreadskull, and he just smirked even more. “Dumbassses, this will be easy!” he asserted as he blasted another force wave at the three. They barely dodged, and all three fired their firearms at him, only force him to stand there and block it with his force power music. More skeletons surrounded them now, and Cassius and Agalia decided to take them while Ashi kept Dreadskull busy with her SMG, since a frontal attack would have her blown away.

Thanks to their assault, Dreadskull didn’t notice Jack jump up on top of the massive speakers. Jack lifted his sword and let it reflect the overhead light. The three noticed and backed away, Dreadskull thinking they were backing off in fear. Jack cut the wires, causing the death metal-filled atmosphere to fall largely quiet with a static stop. The majority of the skeletons suddenly vanished, as Dreadskull suddenly felt his power drop drastically. “Huh, what the hell happened to my vibe?!” he said as he looked around at his equipment. He turned to the speakers as he saw them falling down towards him, Jack using all his leverage to tilt the top just a second ago.

Dreadskull became wide eyed, playing desperately to amass a strong enough forcefield in vain. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!”. The speakers crashed down on top of him with the sound of one last guitar sound, the sound itself indicating sudden interruption and loss of tempo. Jack looked from the fallen wreckage to his comrades. They were all roughed up like him, but mostly intact.

“YEAHHHH!” a crowd suddenly cheered. All four turned back to see the crowd from earlier cheering them on for their success, grateful for their actions. Agalia breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, glad all her local friends were safe. She turned to see Cassius walk up to her and smile. “Guess you’re their local star now. You’re on hell of a fighter.” he remarked. Agalia blushed slightly at this, not used to praise for her actions. “Th-thanks.” she said. Jack and Ashi looked on, a bit awkward at how to approach either those two or the crowd. “Hmph, and he criticizes us for that.”Ashi said as she smirked. Jack chuckled tentatively at that, not sure how he should comment. Still, he enjoyed the now pleasant atmosphere as he looked on.

…

           Jack and Ashi roused from their slumber and started to get dressed. Last night was quite the ordeal, so once they got to Agalia’s home, they didn’t celebrate or anything, just dropped into sleep. They were still a bit sore from then, but their wounds were patched up and their stamina good again. They turned to the kitchen. Inside was Cassius helping Agalia make breakfast, or rather the other way around, as he was used to scraps and was no cook. Andrea was giving him an earful, yelling “How the hell does a full grown young man not know how to feed himself?!”.

           All three turned at the pair’s approach. “Ah, look who woke from the dead. Breakfast will be ready soon, as long as your “ladies man” friend here stops screwing up.” Andrea said as she turned a criticizing eye to Cassius. “Hey, it’s not like that! J-just wanted to be useful, okay.” Cassius stuttered with slight embarrassment. For a guy who criticized Jack and Ashi on their romance, it seems relationships of that nature were actually unfamiliar to him. All of them except Cassius laughed lightly, Cassius himself sulking from that.

Once he was done burning food, they began eating what was saved for breakfast. As they munched on, Agalia brought up something she wanted to ask for a while. “So Jack, I never got to ask since we were fighting then, but it’s true, you’re THE Samurai Jack?!”. “Ah, well, yes, that is what I am called.” he said with slight embarrassment. He always felt this way about his reputation. “Oh my god, I always wondered what you were like! I mean, an actual samurai with a katana fighting the Magnus Protectorate, facing the odds, how cool is that?! I mean, we heard out here, but I didn’t know you guys were the renegades fighting the Protectorate. Except Cass, never heard of him before.” Agalia said in glee. “Hey, I’m still new, give me a break!” Cassius said in response to that comment.

Agalia then got a bit fidgeted and nervous. “S-so, I guess that means you’re up fighting Magnus and his soldiers, huh?” she asked tentatively. “Yes, it has… not been easy.” he said with dismay. Despite how far he came, it still felt like he had to cross an ocean and climb a mountain just to reach Magnus. That was how difficult he had come to realize his present ordeal. While Aku fought through deception and his minions, Magnus was a force to be reckoned with, blocking Jack off with every resource he had in an effort to crush him straight out. If Aku’s hand was deceptive and out of reach, then Magnus’s could be defined as imposing force.

“W-well, if it’s okay with you, maybe I can help and, uh, tag along?” Agalia finally asked. Jack and Ashi were dumbfounded, not really prepared for that kind of request. But they recovered quickly, understanding that it was not out of the blue. It became obvious that Agalia was very hostile to the Magnus Protectorate, so of course she would take a chance to fight them.

“You seem very capable, but are you sure about this? We are journeying to Novas Sanctum, it will be dangerous.” Jack said. “Seriously?! Then of course I’m going! If you’re fighting Magnus head on, I want to help! I mean, you guys helped me, so I have to help you, no buts!” Agalia stated. Jack sighed, knowing he couldn’t really turn down that enthusiasm. He turned to Ashi, who nodded with a smile. Then he turned to Cassius, who said “Why not? She was a real badass last night, I respect that.”.

Finally, he turned to Andrea. “Miss Andrea, I am sorry, but do you approve of your niece coming with us?”. ““Miss” Andrea? Sheesh, I thought men this needlessly polite were extinct. Well, can’t say I’m happy about it, but you all did right by me and this town last night. She’s an adult too, and she can look after herself, from what you said.” Andrea approved. “T-thanks Boss!” Agalia said as she hugged her. “Just one thing. If she gets to be a pain in the ass, then kick her ass back here, alright?”, “B-Boss?!” Andrea and Agalia bickered. “We will look after her, thank you.” Jack said.

           “Alright! I’m going to get my stuff and the ride ready, meet me in garage, okay?” she said as she took off. As everyone went get ready, Jack finally noticed something in the living room. There was a picture of a family. In it was a man in mechanic’s clothing with rough, blue hair, accompanied by a woman with dirty blond hair. Between them was a smiling blue haired girl. All of them were smiling. “Wondering about that, huh?” said a voice startling Jack. He saw it was Andrea, who had a somber expression.

“You probably knew earlier that Agalia has actual reasons for hating the Protectorate, not just because there are jackasses in it. Well, that there is the heart of it. The girl there is Agalia, and the goof of a man there is my brother and her father. That woman there is Agalia’s mother, kept my brother in check when I couldn’t. They helped me run things around town, we were a tight knit little community, and a good family.”.

“Well, one day the Protectorate tried dragging the sons of a friend’s family out for drafting. My brother and his wife wouldn’t stand for it, and gave them a good throttle. Then some 2nd Class Inquisitor went and shot them, right in front of Agalia, and took those young boys anyway. Could barely even get Agalia to eat, let alone speak. It took a whole year for the whole settlement to get Agalia to warm up again. We were all glad to have that sweet girl back. Except, ever since then, she hated the Protectorate. Spat at them, threw rocks at them, anything to vent out what she’s still feeling. That’s part of why she got so emotional about the drafting. A huge part of the reason why I’m such a hardass on her is because I don’t want her to end up like her parents.” Andrea lamented.

She turned to face Jack. “Listen, try not to bring this up to her, let her be the first. I just thought you should know in case she does something reckless. At my age, I can’t stop her anymore, so I’m hoping with people like you she will learn to move on and not throw her life away. Sorry to throw all this heavy stuff on you, but that girl’s sake means a lot to me.”. Jack sympathized with the both of them, knowing the pain and frustration of losing family like that, and not wanting to lose anyone, anymore. “Thank you, for telling me that. We will do what we can.” Jack said. “Thanks. Well, you better get a move on. That girl has too much energy, let me tell ya.”.

…

Jack’s company stood in the garage before the unveiled vehicle before them. It was decided not to take the armored tank like vehicle, as it was too slow to outrun pursuits. Fortunately, Agalia said she had a newer, more sleek combat vehicle she made herself. It was some four-wheeled car, somehow both sturdy and sleek. It was well armored, and had a sizable area in the bock for storing weapons. It even had a convertible function, in case of rain, she explained. There were mounted machine guns, fiercer than the ones on his motorcycle, and even a rocket launcher beneath. Whatever unfathomable car this was, there was no way it was legal. Not like that mattered in their case though.

“It is certainly a veritable vessel” Jack said with appreciation. “Thanks, I’ve been working on this badass for a while now, just finished last week. Since we’re going on a long journey and all, I decided to call her, “the Odyssey”.” Agalia said with pride. “The journey and story of the legendary Greek hero?” Jack recalled from his learning in his time. “Yep, inspiring, huh?” Agalia said. “Um, what’s the Odyssey, and what Greek hero?” Ashi asked. They all turned to her in surprise, unable to believe she never even heard of Odysseus, then Jack understood as he remembered her upbringing. “I will tell you the story later, I think you will enjoy it.” Jack said.

“Well Boss, I’m off.” Agalia said as she hugged Andrea goodbye. “Take care of yourself. Just one very important reminder. Watch out for that Cass fellow, he looks like the type that runs out on you.” Andrea said with a distrustful look to Cassius. “Alright, that’s enough! Do I look like womanizing scum to you?!”, “Yes.” she said without hesitation. Cassius sat in the car’s backseat, only capable of grumbling to himself. They all began to pack in the car. Jack thought Agalia was going to be in the driver’s seat, but instead she sat in the back.

“What, you’re the designated driver of this whole road trip, so you should be the one behind the wheel.” she said as she smiled. “V-very well, if you insist. He got into the driver’s seat, with Ashi occupying the opposite one. Though a bit different from a motorcycle, the mechanics were similar enough th omake the connections and understand what they did. Jack gripped the steering wheel and readied the ignition, the bristling engine flaring to life. “Ready to hit the road?” Ashi asked as she looked at him with a smile. “Yes, let’s go.” he said with another smile as the Odyssey drove out of the garage and onto the road leaving the junkyard.

…

“Ughhh, Ooooowww, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.” cried out a pathetic figure in a full body cast. Resting in this Magnus Protectorate care facility was Dreadskull, who had been literally crushed by the Renegade Samurai a few days prior and now receiving treatment for his severe injuries. If his remaining forces hadn’t found him, he’d probably have died underneath all that wreckage. It would take a long while till he was able again though.

“When I find that Samurai Jackass, I’m gonna…” Dreadskull said before he was interrupted. “Inquisitor, phone for you. It’s Chief Advisor Xander, he wants to talk to you about your mission.” said one of the care staff. “Uh, tell him I’m not here, no tell him I’m still knocked out, just don’t let him…”, “Inquisitor, ahem, “Dreadskull, is it true you failed to stop and eliminate the Samurai?” said a voice from the phone pressed to him. “Ah, well, see that’s a funny story, so you see…”, “Oh, give me that Xander! Theodore, you dumbass! You’re fired!” said the voice of Magnus as he seized the phone line from Xander.

“Wha, fired?! No, wait, Lord Protector, boss man, I can fix this, I, uh, hello, HELLO?!” Dreadskull, or rather, Theodore, as was his real name, pleaded when suddenly the phone line ended and was replaced with beeping. “Ah Shit.”.

Author’s Notes: Whoa, longest chapter yet. I planned a lot for this one, including bringing in a new character to join Jack, plus this new joke villain I came up with. That’s why it took longer than usual to write up this one, plus I’ve been a bit busy, but I spent a lot of thinking and writing here. Agalia is meant to be a more “cheerful” member of Jack’s group, but she’s a bit headstrong and trigger fingered, and you got the spiel about her own tragic past. In other words, she’s kind of this upbeat person carrying quite a bit of negative baggage and trying to hide it. You probably picked up something going on between her and Cassius. Right now, it’s just picking fun at him, but I’ll try to advance it further later.

Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten Jack and Ashi’s relationship, but try to remember, I don’t have much experience with this and romance isn’t my strong suit. Now, Dreadskull, or Theodore, was this joke villain I’ve been thinking up a while now. Samurai Jack has had plenty of joke characters, both good people and villains. So this guy was designed with them in mind, while I tried to be original. If he’s the same as another fictional character, sorry I didn’t know, not trying to plagiarize.

When I started, I was trying to think up a shtick, as most SJ villains have one, usually making them eccentric. I remembered the DJ from the original one, and I think Scaramouche is still rather fresh for everyone, so I decided to make another music loving villain, and chose death metal. I don’t hate death metal, not trying to trash it either, just thought it give him real flair. As part of the joke though, he sucks at it. I used the fact that I can’t write lyrics to save my life to help with that, haha. I kept him alive for that last gut punch at the end, plus I’m thinking up to bring him one more or even two more times later, in Arcs 2 and 3. Let’s just say he will be jamming that guitar again with a certain Season 5 flute lover.

Now, I’m going to take a break, because I’m exhausted now, but I already got ideas for VIII. Jack’s group will be helping a group inspired by a faction from a videogame I love as they face a mutant plague, the Abominables. I’ll have one more chapter after that where Jack will be facing an Inquisitor who follows bushido customs like him and press more guilt onto Jack, and then we’ll be looking at the shocking end of Arc 1. Man, I just want to write this stuff now, but I’m so tired. Till next time, enjoy!