by Reiter
“Really?!” Oedelorana asked, finding some delight in the comparison.
“Oh yeah, she’d be proud of you!"
“In that case, don’t forget the body armour,” the woman directed. “That is good House fashioning they’re wearing. We might be able to afford a large cabin on a liner!”
“Well, that killed the comparisons,” Pulri muttered, hammering his fist down on one of the wounded men.
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Not much was said after the option was given, and it stabbed at Misharee’s heart to feel so utterly helpless in her consideration of going up against a Chevalier. She would not command her students to keep their ground, but she stood ready to defend those who wanted to defy the man. Patra only looked at her fellow students, while Phay looked at the floor and mumbled.
So many of them walked to Vhusetti, and then turned to his right, approaching the glowing aperture. There were the boys, two of which hurt Misharee the most. Braxton and Tenjas, a young boy they called Cadence due to his attention to detail and neatness, they were students K’Jolun had brought into the fold and had seemed the most eager to learn. They had also been the most accepting of Patra and Phay.
“How can I ask them to lay down their lives?” Misharee thought as she made eye contact with two girls. Neither could hold their teacher’s eyes for long. The dreams of changing the status quo in the Chevalier Community shattered when they looked away from their teacher.
“Where are you all going?!” Cleopatra cried out. “What were you twaining for? We have to fight this guy?!”
“Let them go, Patra,” Pharaoh directed. “They’re not ready for the code and they never will be.”
“Shut up, you little shit,” Braxton snapped.
“Make me, coward!”
“We do not fight each other,” Misharee stated, trying to maintain some level of order.
“Why not?” Pharaoh asked. “If I don’t fight him today, I’ll just have to fight him tomorrow! Only then he’ll be dressed like an Eastern Temple coward.”
“I said, shut up!” Braxton yelled, swinging with all his fury. Pharaoh ducked down while reaching to his back. His hand came around swinging nun-chuks that smacked hard against Braxton’s shin. As the seventeen year-old boy fell to the ground, Gru’s eyes squinted. Pharaoh remained in form; the nun-chuks never stopped moving, and as soon as Braxton fell, Pharaoh swung the weapon across the older boy’s chin. With the harsh clapping noise made upon impact, Gru thought the jaw might have broken. Pharaoh stood up slowly, still swinging the nun-chuks around his body until he tucked one end under his right arm; the other end was in his right hand. His left hand was nearly fully extended in front of his sternum.
“That boy’s got some focus!” Gru observed. “Maybe I should take them both!”
Braxton moaned as he rolled on the floor. He looked up at Pharaoh who did not have his eyes on any particular person. He was trying to see as much of the room as he could as he stood ready to strike with his favored weapon.
“Get up, boy,” Gru commanded. “Get through the aperture and we’ll get you looked at.”
“I gotcha, man,” Tenjas said, helping Braxton to his feet. He glared at Pharaoh as he assisted his friend and they labored their way toward the aperture.
“Patra,” Pharaoh called and the young girl moved to stand behind her brother.
“Well, it seems that most of you have made up your minds,” Gru said, looking at the remaining three students: Cleopatra, Pharaoh, and Creltharn who had been the very first of K’Jolun’s hastily collected followers. Creltharn looked nervous and unsure. “This is a decision as to which way of life you will choose. You can live with mine, or die with yours!” Gru’s body shook as he was shot in the back with a concealed dart launcher. The crackle of an electric discharge sounded as the guards turned to face Tenjas and Braxton as the latter fired his launcher. He was aiming for the neck where he had hoped the soft folds would not be proof against the dart, but it ricocheted off the shoulder of his intended target. Three of Gru’s men fired their rifle blasters, missing both of the boys as they dove for the far wall and rolled along the floor. The blasts instead struck the aperture, and Misharee could see the method behind her students’ actions. As the aperture sparked and began to fade, she could hear the screams of at least one man and one woman; backlash!
Dismissed from the Northern Temple, Misharee knew her mental talents were weak in comparison to the spell capability a full-fledged Eastern Temple Chevalier. The three men were still firing their weapons, turning to adjust their aim. Misharee’s telekinesis grabbed the barrel of the closest firing weapon. She pulled on it sharply and the man fired into the back of two of his compatriots.
Taking advantage of the group’s shock, Misharee snatched a pulse-grenade from one of the belts.
“It’s live!” she yelled as the pin was removed and the grenade was dropped at the man’s feet.
“Clear out!” one of the men yelled.
“Sweep ‘em, Patra!” Pharaoh directed and the young girl stepped forward, reaching for her chain. As she squatted down to swing low, a thin line of raw MannA trailed from the end, cutting across the knees of the armoured men. One of the men fell right beside the grenade as Pharaoh grabbed his sister and put his body between her and the expected blast. The device came away from the floor before releasing the contained Force energy. The windows were blown out by the burst of as an armoured body came through the wall between the window frames.
“That seemed like a better idea in my mind,” Misharee thought, looking around and quickly locating her students. The five of them seemed to be fine save for temporary dizziness and some hearing loss, but the door out of the room was blocked by an armoured man who was rolling over on his chest.
“To the windows,” she projected telepathically. As most of the students moved, Cleopatra grabbed Pharaoh’s sleeve and gave it a sharp tug. The slightly dizzy young boy looked around and Cleopatra pointed to her hand before pointing at the window.
“Follow me!” Pharaoh shouted. He bolted for the window, but not the one closest to him. He ran for the one closest to his corner. “Stop, three, go,” he yelled, running toward the windowsill. Without slowing, he jumped out of the window.
“Phay,” Misharee screamed as she ushered Braxton by her.
“One, two, three,” Cleopatra counted out loud and then she too ran and jumped out of the window.
Creltharn was the first of the older students to make it to the window. He looked out and down and chuckled. “I should’ve known,” he muttered as he climbed up into the frame. “Can you handle me?”
“Jump!” Pharaoh replied. “You’re late already!” Creltharn jumped just as Misharee made it to the window. She gasped as she looked down to see Pharaoh hanging by his legs from a branch of one of the trees in the courtyard. He swung his body out and caught the hands of Creltharn, swinging him toward the tree.
“Come on,” Misharee said, stepping up into the windowsill, “both of you will jump with me!”
“Aww Kot!” Braxton said as he climbed up. Tenjas muttered something no one could understand, and Misharee put a hand in the center of either back and jumped straight out from the wall. Her telekinesis was engaged and they cleared the trees, landing in the middle of the walkway that ran down the center of the courtyard. The landing was a little hard, but no one was hurt. Misharee could feel a headache coming on as she stood up. They all turned at the sound of applause coming from the gate.
“That was amazing,” Vhusetti said as he stopped clapping. “I’ve always thought Northerners were weak, and that little demonstration only confirmed my suspicions. But still, it was so dramatic!” Gru activated his En-Blade and glared at Misharee. “I wonder if your swordsmanship is as wanting.”
Misharee drew her weapon and activated it. “There is one way to find out. I’m not going to let you take these children, Gru,” Misharee said as she stepped in front of the children. “I will die first!”
“Yes, Mi
sharee,” Gru nodded as he set himself. “Yes, you will.” Twelve of the armoured men flew out of the room and used their flight packs to land safely on the ground. “… and, as you can see, your little trick has barely cut into the ranks of my men. But they’re quite angry with you. After I’ve taken your weapon, I have a good mind to let them have their way with you!”
“Kiai!” K’Jolun yelled, swinging down as he landed. The power of his voice exceeded the sound made by his En-Blade as it passed down through the shoulder, chest, and ribs of the man he had struck. The ground trembled with his landing, and K’Jolun stood up spinning. He came to a stop as the head of a second man rolled off of his shoulders and into the grass. “No, tend to me first!”
“Cage, will you never cease to amaze?” Gru sighed as he fanfared his weapon.
“Misharee, get the students out of here,” K’Jolun said, looking at Gru’s men. “I have this!”
“Oh, I get it now!” Gru said, pointing at K’Jolun. “You took the brunt of the spell with your head!”
“Go, I said!” K’Jolun snapped and Misharee, along with her students, jumped at the urgency in his shout. Misharee touched Tenjas’ shoulder, directing him toward the gate. One of the armoured men moved to intercept them and an En-Blade speared him through the faceplate.
“You should never throw your weapon!” Gru yelled, hurling a MannA bolt. K’Jolun stepped back, activating another En-Blade, swatting the bolt out of the air.
“That was our dojo up there, idiot,” K’Jolun sniped. “Even though we set it up fairly quickly, do you know how many En-Blades there were? No? At least three more!” K’Jolun jumped up and back, hurling the weapon he was holding and another he managed to activate and throw before landing. He landed with his own En-Blade activated and firmly in hand. The first weapon flew through a man’s chest. The second was in a flat spin, scoring the head of one man and the shoulder of another.
“Son of a bitch!” one man yelled as he fired his weapon. The energy blast hit K’Jolun’s shoulder, but there was no visible effect. K’Jolun smiled at the man as his eyes flared with the same energy he had been shot with.
“Impossible,” Gru whispered.
“That is your reality,” K’Jolun argued.
The man who had fired at K’Jolun tried to turn and run, but the eye-blast burned into and through the back of his neck. Without looking, K’Jolun deflected another MannA bolt to the ground.
“Dismiss your remaining men to take care of the lost souls, Gru,” K’Jolun suggested. “Do that and I will make your introduction to my reality as quick and painless as I am able.” Vhusetti answered him by throwing a bolt that split into two. With his En-Blade still in hand, K’Jolun used telekinesis to catch both bolts, joining them together before he absorbed them. “Thank you for the additional power.” K’Jolun lifted his free hand toward Gru and his men and closed his eyes. “By the will of the Pearl Sun!” From his open palm a beam shot out – one for each target – and each man was blasted; with the exception of Vhusetti, each one encapsulated in a field of pearly-white light. Each was held there and unable to move. The field never fully formed over Vhusetti, who yelled something K’Jolun could not understand. The field of light was broken and Chevalier stumbled back. He laughed as he looked around, seeing that he no longer had any assistance.
“First EnerJa, with the eye-blast thing… then telekinesis, but then again, you are of the Northern Temple.”
“Was of the Northern Temple,” K’Jolun corrected him.
“As you say, then… but then an Entreaty Spell?!” Gru asked as he lifted his weapon. “Not a bad spell either.”
“It’s bound all that it needed to,” K’Jolun replied, circling toward the walkway.
“You’re really going to try to make this work after all, aren’t you?”
“The Southern Temple has begun, Easterner.”
“You’re chasing dreams, boy!”
“Yes, but I dream with my eyes wide open,” K’Jolun replied.
“You’re a fool, Cage,” Vhusetti stated, readying himself. “Zeu Rex was the exception, not the rule!”
“Zeu Rex is a man,” K’Jolun argued. “As rare as any other… as unique as you or I. But still, just a man.”
“No one can wield three different Energies!”
“You may not live through my discourse!” K’Jolun said, using telekinesis to lift Vhusetti off his feet and pull the man toward him.
Though he was expecting to be hurled in the opposite direction, Vhusetti quickly regained his balance and thrust his blade for K’Jolun’s chest as he flew toward him. A child of a dojo that centered on weapons forms, K’Jolun stepped forward, swinging his weapon down to deflect the thrust as he lifted his forearm into the face of the approaching man. What was commonly referred to clotheslining, it had the unfortunate conclusion of placing one’s opponent on their back after bringing their forward progress to a halt. Dropping to one knee while spinning, K’Jolun’s En-Blade removed the export-ring of Gru’s weapon. His En-Blade faded from sight as K’Jolun’s spun around the man’s body, slowly passing through the older man’s chest. The pain from the burn made the man scream his last breath.
K’Jolun closed his eyes, kneeling beside a dead man whom he had called friend, one he had started to trust and love… one who had betrayed him and the life-path that was only now becoming clear to his mind and reachable by his talent. He opened his eyes, stood up, and turned off the En-Blade. Attaching it to his side, he turned to leave the courtyard, only to see all of his students and Misharee armed and ready to fight.
“You said ‘get them out of here’,” Misharee repeated. “We were in the courtyard at the time. We’re now out on the sidewalk. And there were En-Blades lying about!”
“That sounds like something you would think up,” K’Jolun glared, pointing at Pharaoh. The young boy quickly held up his hands and shook his head ‘no’.
“It was my idea, Master,” Braxton said as he stepped forward. “Something I picked up from Patra when I wanted some privacy in the bathroom.” K’Jolun snickered, losing his angry glare. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“We got the data stowage n’ most of the weapons,” Cleopatra added. “We couldn’t weave you… that’s not part of the code!” K’Jolun closed his eyes and nodded gently in agreement.
“Neither is standing out in the open when there are bodies about,” he added. “We need to find some place out of sight. We’re too close to stop now.”
“Too close?” Misharee asked. “What did you find today?”
“Absolutely nothing,” K’Jolun admitted. “But my leaving was just a… maneuver…” K’Jolun stopped talking and looked back at the building; his mind was turning thoughts over in his head.
“What is it?” Misharee asked.
“I’m not sure.” K’Jolun ran back for the front door. Everyone but Pharaoh followed him. When he reached the front of the building, he leaned in the doorway and took a moment to compose himself. He had not yet recovered from applying so many forms in a very short time. “I think it is safe to let you in on something. That data storage device is interactive. It’s also adaptive. While you and most of the others were meditating to train with ThoughtWill, Pharaoh used Chi to bridge with me.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Because Z told him to! Two days ago, during our group meditation, I was taken into a garden where I met a woman named Satithe. She maintains the Z files and speaks for him in their matters. She asked me one question: why do you bother to call it Martial Arts instead of Martial Art.” Misharee frowned at question and K’Jolun nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I thought it was weird too, but I told her that there’s more than one form… more than one method. She said, ‘Exactly, welcome to the three-pattern Temple Technique’.”
Walking inside the building, K’Jolun stretched his neck and breathed deeply. “There’s lots of other details, like how he’s able to life-lock with Patra at will and, if he sends through Patra, he c
an bridge with Braxton.” Misharee looked over at Braxton who was too engaged in the moment to react to what K’Jolun had said, but the fight between he and Phay had been explained and Misharee knew that, like everyone else in the room, she had been distracted while Tenjas procured the dart launchers. “In the most simple terms, the brace-com researched all of us, and it found what the Northern Temple didn’t about Gru. It knew he wasn’t on the level. Phay and I put our own little counterplan into action and while he kept an eye on Gru, I dealt with the men he had watching us.
“I don’t think we’re the only ones who are working in the shadows. And according to the Z-files, we are being watched by other people – people who might help us.” K’Jolun entered the building, now devoid of the homeless people. “That man… he told me that I could not see…” The young man stopped and truly did not know what to think.
“Couldn’t see?” Misharee pressed, getting frustrated at receiving only bits of information.
“The writing on the wall,” K’Jolun finished, pointing at the wall. The very wall he had been facing when he had removed the man from his arm. Written in charcoal were the words: South Dock, Slip 5, Slot 7. 2100 hours. Misharee looked at her watch and her eyes flared.
“It’s 1948 hours now. South Dock is on the far side of the city!”
“Which means we can’t use the tram,” K’Jolun quickly concluded. “Check the bodies for credits,” he commanded. Braxton, Tenjas, and Creltharn bolted out of the front door. “Especially Gru!”
“Credits?” Misharee asked, very confused.
“We need to give some unfortunate soul something for their troubles.”
“Yes,” Misharee agreed after little contemplation. “I suppose we do at that. All right everyone… you all heard Cage. Let’s get to work!”
A man must be big enough to admit his mistakes, smart enough to profit from them, and strong enough to correct them.