*Disclaimer*
The following is intended for entertainment only. The
Knight Sabres, AD Police and other recognizable characters are
copyrighted by someone else. No money is being made by me, er
_this_, so legal action would really ruin all of our days. That
said, I hope we can all have fun with a good story. (If you don't
think this qualifies, write yer own!)
*End Disclaimer*
A Rural Darkness and Science Production
Of a story by Michael Watson
Oathbreaker's War: Book 1
The Origin
Part One: A Dark Child of Light
Memo to Chairman Quincy, GENOM Corp.
From: S.D., head of Security Personnel: Training
RE: Morpheus Project
The subject we have chosen shows great promise. I hope
the memory erasure process will not impair that. I have
plans for this one.
I'd let fate and whim decide my path for too long. I could
just head downhill till I found a stream and then follow it to
civilization, but no, I'd let vague feelings be my guide and I
seemed to be heading away from any such place. Places where they
might be able to tell me who I am. I have a name, its written on
a little badge I'm wearing. In a language I have some difficulty
puzzling out, it says "Wa-ta-shi wa Ma-i-ko-ru de-su". It means
'I am Michael' in a language that comes more naturally to my
thoughts. Mi nombre es Miguel and Let SELF$="Michael" also come
to mind in various other language groups. As my mind wanders
over the concept of language and wonders at the need for more
than one, my feet have yet again set a wandering course at odds
with the sensible one.
I go around a grove of trees like several others I'd gone
around that day. The group of buildings seems to spring into
existence, as does the small group of people that surround me
pointing various weapons at me.
"Sumimasen," I begin though I have no idea why I'm speaking
in one of the languages I barely know, it just seems right. I
also realize that I also have no idea how to convey my problem in
the language.
My struggles to link concepts to words are rudely interrupted
when three of them rush to attack, "Shinei!" they cry.
I smile at my correct guess at these folks language, then the
meaning hits. "Shinei ka? Die? What'd I do to you?"
I begin to raise my arms in surrender when a voice cuts
through the air like I expected one of those swords to cut
through my neck. "Iie! Mateo!" the voice continues in rapid fire
instructions and I can't pick out separate words. The speaker is
a lovely young woman with the timeless beauty claimed by so many
oriental women and possessed by so few. For a bit I wonder that
a woman would have this much authority, but a few moments
observation of her personality and presense proved the
inevitiblity of her authority. The last part of her speach is
directed toward me and ends on a questioning note.
Guessing that she is asking who I am, I reply, "Watashi wa
Maikoru desu." just like it says on my nametag, "As for who that
makes me, I wish I knew myself, but I don't have the words to
tell you that in your language. Maybe you can understand mine?
Wakarimasu ka?"
"Ah, an English speaker. American by the accent, northwest
United States unless I miss my guess." She looks at my confused
expression, "This is news to you, isn't it? You have amnesia, you
have lost your memories?" At my slow nod a calculating gleam
appears in her eyes for a moment then is replaced by warmth. "You
can stay here with us while you wait for your memory to return. I
see great potential in you and I know several of our instructors
would love the chance to teach you."
I could only nod, and wonder what I'd done to be described as
having 'great potential'. "So this is a school then?"
The lady smiles as if I'd made a joke, "Yes, this is my...
school... and while you are here you will be under MY authority.
You will answer only to Shadow Dancer. Wakarimasu, understand?"
I smile too at having found a place so easily, "Hai
wakarimasu Shadow Dancer sensei."
Part Two: A Light Child of Darkness
Memo to Chairman Quincy, GENOM Corp.
From: S.D., head of Security Personnel: Training
RE: Morpheus Project
I must complement you on your memory erasure techniques,
my instructors say it has actually _increased_ his potential
to absorb new information. An 'empty sponge' effect they
call it. However, we may have been too tenative in their use
on this first subject, much of his moral structure remains.
Coupled with his strong will, a major selection criteria I
know, his morals may prove problematical to the success of
this test phase of the project. I suggest that future
subjects be erased more thoroughly, if the test case is any
measure, retraining basic skills will be the least of our
worries.
I can't forget sensei's first reaction to my condition. As
nice as she and the rest of the instructors are being, that
first calculating gleem colors my perceptions. Shadow Dancer is
not keeping me here out of the goodness of her heart nor for the
sake of Japanese hospitality, she wants a new tool, and in me she
has a blank form to create any tool she wishes. This place is
no school, it is a training camp for Shadow Dancer's clan of
ninja. I've searched what few clear feelings I have and found
it unacceptable for me to become one of them, though I will need
all the skills they so eagerly teach me to escape them. I am a
good student too, the best they've seen since Shadow Dancer
herself.
Along with the common rogue's skills of stealth and thievery
the clan has developed an unusual martial art. The Art has no
set routines of movement, no formal katas to perform in this or
that way without deviation. Instead the art of this ninja clan
teaches its students to exploit the flaws in other's patterns
while keeping your own movements from falling into patterns that
may in turn be exploited by your opponent. In place of katas,
lines are drawn on the floor in complex maze-like forms and the
student is expected to reach the center without touching the
lines. Top marks go to those who succeed with the fastest times
and the most graceful movements. I admit to questioning the
effectiveness of this training as a fighting art, but it's
strength is proven to me one night...
I have taken to wandering the woods surrounding the
compound, I'd found several comfortable little clearings where I
can lie down and look at the sky. I was hoping the cold light of
the unchanging moon and stars would clear the shadows from my
mind, both the ones of amnesia and the ones Shadow Dancer is
encourging. There have been a couple of times when an odd group
of stars would almost stir up a memory, but the shadows are too
thick. I sigh in resignation and just watch the sky.
Suddenly, the noise of several feet and voices reach my
distracted awareness, "Ah! If it isn't the teachers' new pet
foreigner! What are you doing out alone, gaijin? Domestic pets
have _accidents_ when they're let run loose at night."
They aren't _not_ gonna fight. It's pretty much the same
group that gretted me on my first day. They're working
together, surrounding me, making ready with their weapons.
*Together,* my eyes narrow, *together they have to work in
predictable patterns, and if there's one thing I've learned in
the past few months it's that patterns have weaknesses;
weaknesses I've been trained to exploit.*
They too have been trained in this so my reply is geared to
anger them and keep them from thinking, "As for being a pet,
I've had no choice. You certainly haven't been accepting of
me, I've had no one else to turn to. Besides, pets have some
advantages that wild animals such as yourselves don't, they get
taught to do tricks."
I move within the pattern their attacks form. It is a joy
like no other, I am everywhere amongst them and they can not
touch me, but I can touch them and they can not defend against
me without getting in each other's way. The pattern gains
focus, a center, and with the lightest of touches I unbalance
that center and the pattern falls apart, I am alone once more in
the middle of a clearing now full of unconscious bodies. I look
upon what I have done with sadness, *At least Shadow Dancer
sensei will be proud of this night's work.*
The next day...
I stand before the class, their bruises testament to the
effectiveness of my training. Shadow Dancer is beside me
looking at them with undisguised loathing.
"Incompetent fools! You, with your lifetime of training
have allowed one new student with only a few short month's
training to defeat you all so easily?" She screams to the group,
then turns to me the expression not altering one bit, "and this
student with all his mastery of the arts committed one grave
error, he should have killed every last one of you."
I did not need to look to sense the renewed hatred and
determination on my fellow student's faces. When their next
attempt comes I will have to kill them all, just to stop them.
Then Shadow Dancer will no longer need _them_, she'll have _me_.
Fortunately my instructors have deemed me ready for the
final test of my mastery of the art. In the central room of the
dojo there is inscribed a complex weave of patterns in various
colors. Successful running of a pattern grants great power.
Shadow Dancer had run one of the darker patterns and gained
mastery over all shadows and many shadow-related abilities. I
saw only one way to overcome Shadow Dancer's power and
experience to escape her. I would have to dance _two_ patterns
simultaneously.
Shadow Dancer and my other instructors enter the room from a
door on the other side of the patterns. I have chosen a green
pattern and a gold pattern that share a common center point. I
take my first step, several patterns fade out, the rest
intensify. I spin, leap, and when I come to ground only ten
patterns remain. The dark pattern is one of those that fade
away, and the light shining from the ten remaining banish some
of the shadows from my mind. I remember.
Cloudless blue is the sky as I walk to WSU's computer lab in
Sloan Hall. My name _is_ Michael and a surname is recalled to me
as well, Watson. I was an Electrical Engineering student
maintaining a 3.x GPA despite an increasing fascination with
anime, manga, and their associated fan-fiction. I now realize
why I'm so uncomfortable among these ninja, I considered myself
a knight! More samurai or ronin than shinobi. My resolve to
escape Shadow Dancer's influence deepens.
I crouch and do a somersault leap and in landing cause half
of the remaining patterns to phase out. The instructors are
muttering something, but I can't pay enough attention to
understand as the five remaining patterns press in on my mind
with whispered promises of power. With a spinning sidestep only
my two chosen patterns remain. Five whispers become two shouts
in my head as the two patterns vie with each other giving me
visions of how to use their power to escape Shadow Dancer. A
cartwheel with a handspring and still two remain. The rest of
my instructors have to restrain Shadow Dancer as my intention to
compleat both patterns becomes clear. I allow myself a smile,
interference now would be the end of both of us.
One of the instructor's words carries over, "Your foundling
hawk seems not inclined to stay amongst us ravens."
The two patterns' shouts increase in intensity as I approach
their common center, and I reply to them in my mind, *Enough!
One of you _may_ be enough to escape Shadow Dancer, but I'll
definately need _both_ of you to keep her at bay!* This
actually seems to give them pause, allowing me enough
concentration to do a triple axle leap to their center point.
The combined radiance of the two patterns, still in conflict
with each other, washes out almost as much as the earlier light
had revealed of myself. The dojo room disappears in a wash of
green/gold light and I see no more.
Part 3: Breaking Oaths
A red-headed young lady sits at a computer station, typing
madly. A dark-haired woman looks over her shoulder with a
concerned expression. Soon the red-head stops typing and sighs
in relief as she stretches to relieve tense muscles.
"Sorry Sylia," The red-head begins, "That's all I could get
before GENOM's security brought the hammer down. The references
to memory erasure are disturbing, but what's so important about
a training program?"
"This is the first non-boomer security force GENOM has
employed in years, Nene. I have to know why." Sylia replies.
I open my eyes to find myself still in the ninja compound,
my bunk in the barracks to be precise. There is a bright flow
of energy running the length of the room, a ley line says
knowledge imparted by the Green Pattern, part of a
world-spanning network of mystic energy. I can still feel both
patterns, the green one is dominant at the moment, but there's
also something else. Before I can ponder this much, a figure
comes into my field of view. Near instinctively, I draw on the
ley line's energy forming it into three shuriken which I throw
towards the intruder.
Fortunately, the doctor is also one of my better instructors,
and dodges the attack easily. "Conjuration, interesting that you
are already manifesting. That was a most foolish thing you did,
Maikoru, we have few enough examples of what just one Pattern can
do to a mind and body, I dare not predict what two could do to
you." the doctor explains, "Any initial impressions you could
share with me?"
~FLICKER~
"That's too bad." the doctor continues to my confusion. He
hadn't gotten an answer yet, had he? "Well physically you seem
fit enough, we instructors have missed our star student."
I experience discontinuities like that twice more that day,
and many more in the week to follow. They occur mostly in times
of stress, but a few of them happen just as I'm about to ask if
any of the others notice anything odd. They last anywhere from
a few minutes to a few hours long.
Fearing for my sanity, I examine the memories I regained
while running the Patterns. Most of them are of me going to
college in the 1990's, which is odd because I look a bit younger
now in 2034 than I did then, nothing close to the 62 years I
should have. I find something helpful in an introductory
Psychology class I took as a humanities elective. My problems
fit the description of MPD, Multiple Personality Disorder. A
rare condition brought on by severe trauma that the mind
literally cracks to pieces to deal with. A trauma like having
two conflicted powers being forced upon me?
I have more to consider during this night's stargazing than
the still large gaps in my memory. Half jokingly I put thoughts
in words, *Hello? I know you are aware of me, you've stopped me
from alerting the others about our condition often enough.*
To my relief, and not a little horror, I get an answer, *You
have but to call, Keeper of Memory.* the thoughts 'sound'
feminine.
*I win Ryuko! It took him over a week to figure it out!* a
child says.
*How many of us are there?* I ask.
*Counting you, five.* answers another female, *I'm Ryuko,
Keeper of Vision.*
*My name is Paladina. I am Keeper of Honor.* the first one
says formally.
*Garion, Keeper of Vengeance.* growls a new one, male.
*Last, but not least! Tinker, Lord High...Ouch! Paladina!
You're no fun!* the young boy finishes with a pout, "Keeper of
Spirit.*
*And you Michael, are Keeper of Memory.* Ryuko states.
*Why did you wait for me to contact you? This week would
have been a lot less frustrating if I'd known what was going
on.* I ask.
Paladina answers, *As Keeper of Memory you are most like our
original, whole, self. None of us wanted disturb that.*
We talk into the night. The others have been experimenting
with the Pattern-granted powers. It seems they almost cancelled
each other out. If their conflict had not brought out a third,
latent ability from within me, _us_, niether would have been
availble for use. We have the ability to Shapeshift. Paladina
demonstrates, shifting to a female form, as she does I can feel
the two Patterns shift places, Yellow becoming dominant. It is
Telekinesis, the ability to sense and move objects with our mind.
The compromise the powers have adopted is that Conjuration only
works when we're in male forms, and Telekinesis only works in
female. Now that we are introduced to each other and I'm
brought up to speed on the nature of our supernatural abilities,
we decide that now is as good a time to try to make our escape as
any. This time I follow the logical path to civilization, always
downhill.
Part 4: Enter Knights
"Remember that 'Project Morpheus' thing you had me search for
last week?" Nene asks.
"Yes?" Sylia asks.
"I just checked on it again and there is a _lot_ of activity
under that heading in GENOM's communication system, it seems the
test subject has escaped, and they've tracked him here to
Mega-Tokyo!" Nene responds.
"Contact the others, the Knight Sabres are going on a patrol
of the city tonight." Sylia orders.
"Shadow Dancer thought you might turn up in Mega-Tokyo,
Oathbreaker." a voice grates out of the darkness.
*I _knew_ we shouldn't have used our own face!* Ryuko
complains.
*Hush Ryuko. If he's alone we can take him out before he
tells Shadow Dancer where we are.* Garion growls.
*_We_ don't know where we are.* Tinker sobs.
"Come along quietly and I won't have to hurt you." the
menacing voice interrupts my internal dialogue.
*Quietly? Shadow Dancer didn't tell him much about us did
she?* Paladina tenses getting ready to act.
The owner of the voice steps out into the light of a
streetlamp with an audible clank.
*Uh oh! Look sharp 'Dina! That thing's not human!* I warn.
The _large_ tower dominating the city's skyline and the
mechanical nature of our assailant come together to match some
memories we regained when running the Patterns. I'll confirm my
guess later, if we survive the coming fight.
Our martial arts training kicks in, there are few weaknesses
revealed by the boomer's movements. These things are _tough_!
*There, the wire at the knee joint.* Tinker points out.
Paladina acts, a lightnig-fast kick snaps a wire. And a bone
in our foot. "Ite!" we scream aloud in pain.
The boomer wears a confused expression as its leg stops
working and it falls to its side.
*Now the eyes!* Tinker urges.
In a flash we Conjure a pointed spike and drive it into the
boomer's left eye. Sparks fly as the thing's brain shorts out.
*You know what that thing is, don't you Mike?* Ryuko asks.
*Yes. I don't know how, but...* I begin to explain.
We are interrupted again, two armored figures on motorcycles
reach the scene. Despite the thickness of the armor, it is
obvious the two are female. One's suit is blue, the other's
green. Garion almost adopts a fighting stance before I can stop
him.
*Relax, I think they're friends.* I say to Garion. Aloud to
the two, "The Knight Sabres, for real? You probably have some
questions about this," I point to the disabled boomer, "lets get
out of here before the police show up."
The blue one looks like she'll shoot me on general
principles, but the other gestures to the back of her bike, "Get
on and hang on!"
The noise of the motorcycle prevents conversation, and gives
us time to think.
*No matter who these people are, we should keep our story
simple. We were taken in by a some sort of martial arts cult,
and escaped when they tried to brainwash us. The magic and
other stuff is too much.* Ryuko coaches.
*I suppose it helps that we really don't know the connection
between Shadow Dancer and that machine we shut down. I _do_
have some information on where we are though.* I show the others
what I recall of an anime series called Bubblegum Crisis plus a
few fanfictions based on them.
*We can't just blindly accept that this anime series is
gospel truth about _this_ Mega-Tokyo.* Garion cautions.
*Yeah, even one of those self-insertion fics showed the
trouble that could get us into.* Tinker agrees.
*So we do this as if we don't know anything about the Knight
Sabres or their identities, because we really don't yet.* Ryoko
says.
*We're stopping, who's going to tell the story?* Paladina
asks.
*It's Ryuko's game, she can lie with a straighter face than
I can.* I say.
*It's called prevarication, I don't lie, I just don't tell
the whole truth. Much easier to keep things consistent that
way.* Ryuko laughs, *Now hush, I've got work to do.*
"Who's are you?" the Knight Sabre in white asks us.
"I'm not really certain of that myself..." Ryuko begins
telling our story; including the amnesia, most of our
experiences with Shadow Dancer, but downplaying the mystical
stuff, and leaving out the multiple personalities and the
unlikely memories and powers we gained while running the
Patterns.
"You don't expect us to _beleive_ any of this crap, do you?"
exclaims the Knight Sabre in blue.
*The anime seems to have been spot on with the personalities
of the Knight Sabres at least.* Tinker comments.
The leader takes my story more calmly, "Calm down, his story
fits other information we've obtained, and if his skills allowed
him to defeat a C-55 boomer practically unarmed, it goes a long
way to explaining why GENOM has begun hiring human muscle
again."
*Shadow Dancer hired out to GENOM? Not good.* I shudder.
*We can't let them question us too closely, if they don't
beleive that story, the real one's even less credible.* Garion
worries.
"I got lucky." Ryuko covers, "If the boomer had realized I
was a threat before I acted, it could have wiped the alley with
me."
*Some armament might be a good idea next time, our foot
_hurts_!* Tinker complains.
"Almost did anyway." Ryuko continues, "I think I broke
something when I kicked that wire loose."
"I think we're done here." I can feel the eyes of the woman
in the white hardsuit peircing me from behind the helmet.
"You're sure there is nothing more you want to tell us?"
I shake our head mutely.
"OK, the blue Knight Sabre will take you to a clinic we know
where they don't ask questions." The white Knight Sabre states.
I don't hear anything from her, but something in the blue
Knight sabre's posture tells me she is protesting the order.
The television in the waiting room is set to a news channel.
The announcer's voice is calm despite the horrors he reports.
*The police _can't_ be taking losses like this _all_ the
time!* exclaims Paladina, shocked at the images.
*Yeah, they need help.* Garion remarks off the cuff.
I can feel the satisfaction coming from several of us at
Garion's words
So can Garion, *I didn't mean that _we_ should... Ah,
nuts!*
*Methinks he dost protest overmuch.* Ryuko teases.
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