Samurai Jack Fan Fiction 1

Jack in Rome

It was a cold, grim, day. The sun was absent from the daytime sky. The birds had already flown south to the warmer atmosphere of the Mediterranean. But as history has proven, man is a resistant creature. For man has withstood great pressures. He has survived war, plague, disease, sorrow, and in comparison to these, cold weather was not an issue. Despite man's naked body being the weakest when faced with the deadly nature of Mother Nature's wrath, a colony of stubborn men and women still sat in between the slopes of Mt. Raise and Mt. Helvellyn. These were a simple people, getting by on simple things. They had no need for the flying cars or the towering heights found elsewhere, but had more in common with the man who walked towards them. This man was no ordinary man. He saw the horrors of the east and challenged the monsters of the west. He did not flinch at the might of the South and his quest has brought him here, to north eastern England, to achieve his irreclaimable yet imperative objective.

The snow trembled as it caressed his ankles. The wind whipped his back as if he were an enslaved husky. Yet his will was unbent as the rod used to drive the incompetent forth. There was no derailing of this man's intentions. He had gone for seven days without an ounce of food. His belly demanded a meal, melting snow was no longer an option. Most fortunately for the Samurai, a village was approaching. He awoke that day at dawn and it was almost midday now. His quest had tested him with worse, hence his immovable drive, but he felt weak. Had he not caught a glimpse of the fire brewing in Grasmere, he would have surely begun to feel the vices of his stomach.

Grasmere was a simple village, built by simple people. Its huts were built of straw. Its produce was of farm and consisted of grain and fruit. Its manpower was backed by livestock of goats and sheep. This, to you or I, is a normal sight. There are such people who do not believe in such advancement and modernization as has occurred in the other settlements Jack had visited. Luckily for Jack, these were a people whose customs and traditions were oblivious to Emperor Constantine.

Emperor Constantine is the son of Emperor Romulus who was the son of Emperor Marcus before him. His dominion stretched from Old Rome to Nova Cartago, and to Hadrian's Wall in the North, making Grasmere directly under his control. He held a certain degree of influence in all places, a lesser degree when compared with his predecessors, but a degree nonetheless. Despite his royal title and styling, he holds no power. His only advantage over the overlord was his popularity amongst the people, and that is not a significant advantage in an empire where the will of people does not matter. His popularity arises from the fact that he was man, while the overseer is not. So who is this mystical overseer? Is he an alien? An animal? No, for he is none other than the Shogun of Sorrow himself, Aku.

Aku was a great demon who dwarfs the mightiest of mountains, and wields immeasurable power. He has a long, crooked, red beard that he loved to stroke ever so violently. He had wide eyes that were black as night and almost as black as his heart. He cloaked himself in dark skin that complimented his twisted fangs that protruded menacingly, ominously, and mercilessly above his green mouth. His eyes and ears were everywhere, his nose could smell the smallest hint of fear, and he was bent on capturing, and killing the Samurai called Jack, for Jack too was the son of an emperor who long ago, opposed the demon, and defeated him with the very same mystical sword Jack wields to this very day. When his father failed to hold back Aku's second attack, Jack trained tirelessly to avenge his father's failure by destroying Aku. However, when he was on the cusp of victory, Aku manage to muster up the last of his sorcery to send Jack into the future where Aku's evil is law. And now Jack is faced with ultimate dilemma, hence his impossible quest to find the demon, and destroy him as vengeance for unleashing his tyranny over the innocent people of the realm.

Aku has vassals everywhere, spies in every bar, and influence in every home. His bounty hunters searched for Jack day and night for the beautiful 10 million dollars that rested gently over his proverbial decapitated head. Constantine was one of those vassals. His decrees only served the purpose of Aku. Aku was the master of all things, and it was his will that was imposed on all people. Where his will was not found, Constantine could exercise his desires. Aku had no need for money or popularity, so Constantine sacks the towns. Aku has no desire to keep women and children alive, so Constantine rapes and murders them, but when Aku sets a trap in Grasmere, Constantine spares the villagers and ensures that the trap is sprung.

The Samurai came marching closer and closer, and the townsfolk did as they had always done, unknowing of the game that was set into motion. Aku watched anxiously from his lair, salivating as everything proceeded according to what he and Constantine envisioned, after all, if Jack survives the upcoming onslaught Constantine would take Jack's grave in his stead.

Finally, after countless hours of marching in the snow, Jack arrived at the town. Mrs. Antoine had just prepared a nice, warm pot of Cabbage stew. To them, that was the smell they enjoyed every Wednesday afternoon, but to Jack it was a rush of orgasmic ecstasy. His stomach jumped with excited, calwing at him, ordering him to march into the old woman's home and eat the stew in its entirety without regard for the hunger that might ensue on his fellow kinsmen, but his conscience forbade it. His mind would not accept it either. He knocked on her door eagerly and waited patiently for her to respond.

"May I help you dear?" she asked politely

"Greetings, Madame." He began. "They call me Jack. I have travelled long and far to come to your village, and I am severely weary of my travels. I humbly request your permission to take up lodging in your home."

"Oh my son, now that you mention it, you do look awfully pale. Come, join us, any passerby is a friend of ours. Please, come, come!"

She swung her door open and introduced her to her family. There was her husband Paul, a fat yet lovable bald man with cheeks red as plum. Her three children Anne, Gwen, and Harold, all siting cherubically with folded legs atop crimson cushions on the floor before the mat that was to receive their meal. Antoine placed the boiling pot carefully and gently at the center of the mat. No one dared take a bowl before Jack began the feast, as he did so ever so modestly.

"So what brings you to Grasmere Jack?" asked Antoine. "I do not decide where my sandals take me, but I thankful that they have led to your welcoming abode." "You see children, these are manners." The family laughed and enjoyed their wonderful supper. Just then a horn was sounded from the hills northwest. The family sat attentively for a while, and dismissed it as just wild antics. The attitude quickly evaporated when the horn was responded to by a horn south east. Jack decided to investigate. He left the hut and peeked outside the shoddy door only to see a scrawny young man running into the village.

"The Legion approaches! The Legion approaches!" he yelled. He was running to warn the entire town, but jack stopped him. "What legion? Who are they? Why are they here?" Jack interrogated. "The armies of Constantine, they approach from the north and the south, I was bringing in water for my family from the southern well when I saw them. They gave me a message to give to the townsfolk. They told me that by dawn tomorrow the Legion will overrun this town from east, west, north, and south. They will raze our village to the ground. They will leave no survivors other than those who will serve as examples for the next village." "Nothing else?" Jack questioned. "They did say that we were harboring some kind of fugitive, or an outlaw of some sort. I'm not sure who they mean, but they said he goes by the name Jack, I tried telling them that I know of no Jack, but they were adamant that he was here. Say Mister, are you Jack?" "Forgive me for bestowing this burden upon your people. Yes, I am Jack. They have come for me." The boy was in a state of shock, but he expected this. "Go now, warn the others." The boy continued along the road as Jack looked out of the town only to confirm his fears. 1,000 men in the Covel woods, another thousand in Fairfield Park. The Eastern and western forces, however were out of sight. Perhaps, Jack thought, they would wait until dawn until their reinforcements arrive so that they could run down the town with four legions of four thousand men.

That night, the villagers decided to have a tribunal under the command of Charles Helton, the most respected man in town and unofficial Chieftain. He was a strong bald man with whiskers of white on his face amongst forests of blonde on his upper lip. He wore an iron suit of armor, and sat above all the others while wearing a crimson cape.

"Order!" he demanded. "Thanks to the work of Flemm here, we know that the Legion approaches, and we have been given an ultimatum. Either die for this stranger, or give him up and live life as usual. I see no choice but to give up this man. We don't know him, we haven't sat with him, and there is no logical reason for us to lay down our arms and fall on the battlefield, abandoning our sons and daughters for this man's honor." Before Jack could accept his fate Mrs. Antoine stood up and said: "I can vouch for this man. He sat in my home and ate with my family. He is a noble man and I am willing to sacrifice my belongings for this man." Charles looked at her for a moment and asked "anyone else?" There was no one. Jack looked to the ground and closed his eyes in sorrow, realizing that he was surrounded. Despite his facing of tough obstacles in the past, he knew he could not take on the might of the Roman Legion alone. They were disciplined, determined, and ferocious. They knew that death would come swifter through his sword than through their master's whips, so they would opt for martyrdom before surrender. Jack was not a man who would torture another being at their final hours. He was a man of honor, treating others as he would like to be treated, and thus, granting swift deaths.

"Seeing as the majority has failed to vouch for this man, I hereby decree that this man be handed over to the Legion immediately." He raised his gavel into the air, but before it could slam his desk Paul arose from his seat and said: "Before you strike that sound block, I would like to point your attention to this scroll." He reached over to the shelves and picked up "Malgumus' Records, Volume XXIV: The history of war in Nova Roma" "According to this scroll" he declared "The Legion is the most deceitful army to ever exist." The crowed hissed amongst themselves at such a declaration. Paul could get executed for saying that. "It states that they have given similar propositions in the past, but have retracted on all of them after weakening their target, which is in this case, us." Jack eagerly looked at Paul with wide eyes. "They have given Stratford the choice of surrendering the Sword of Gravitas or annihilation, and so they did, but instead of mercy they received death via the Sword of Gravitas. They gave Nova Cartago the choice to either relinquish their gold or destruction, but in the end they sacrificed their gold and their lives. What makes us so sure that they will be true to their word this time?" The crowd's opinions began to shift. "I don't know about you, but my father taught me to fight for what's right, to not give up your rights so easily. I don't believe in liars, but I've sat with this man. He is an honorable man, and I would die for him rather than die for Constantine, who comes from a line of greedy men who take, and take, and take but never give. He sacks but never bestows, and I would die fighting to my last limb before giving him another easy victory." The crowd was silent. Dead silent. "I'll vouch for him!" cried Felmm followed by Camilla, and then Belethor, and then Torvald, and Mary, and Sammy, until the whole town roared in excitement, and approval. "Seeing as how the majority has… unexpectedly changed its mind, I hereby declare the Roman ultimatum null and void." Said Charles reluctantly. The crowd erupted into cheers and embraces, but none lasted longer than Paul and Jack's. Jack stood up in front of the hall and said "I thank you all for your support. You are all very good people. But I must warn you that the enemy is strong and will not relent. Siding with me can lead to your death. So I ask of you, my brothers and sisters, should you wish to save your selves from the wrath of spears and arrows, I will not blame you. So all those who wish to abandon the struggle, please do not hesitate to lay down your life for mine." The villagers sat still and motionless. None was willing to move an inch from their seats. Jack looked at them sympathetically, yet shed a tear of joy at their bravery. "We are honest people, Jack." Said Paul. "When we vouch for someone, we vouch for them. We do not betray their trust." Jack smiled warmly and began devising a battle strategy. He ordered the villagers to dismantle their huts and take a single rod of wood from their huts for each man (which were about 120). They were to give the rods to their wives to sharpen them with knives to form throwing spears. They were also ordered to give a second rod to their wives and send their children looking for rocks to attach to the rods after their mothers sharpened the rocks. A handful of rods was then given to each woman to cut thinly into arrow shafts, and Boris the black smith, who had just enough steel to form a small number of arrow heads, would attach arrow heads onto them while their children were fetching feathers from their pillows to give to their mothers to attach onto the arrows. Every man already had a bow and quiver though, since they would hunt in the spring, but they had no arrows this day since it was winter and they had already exhausted their ammunition. The remaining wood was stacked to form a small wall that encircled the small village. It was more of an obstacle than a wall but it provided decent cover. The villagers worked tirelessly until the dawn until they had prepared to the best of their ability. They were just about to begin congratulating each other on a job well done until a horn from the east was sounded and was met with a horn from the west. The siege of Grasmere has ended. Battle was about to commence.

The women and children retreated into the only hut left standing and kissed their husbands and fathers goodbye. Their children rested in their mothers laps, while the men manned their stations as Jack ordered. There was a grim silence. A thump was heard. A second soon followed but was heavier. The third shook the ground. The fourth rattled the women's hearts. The fifth was seen by the men who were encamped behind the wall. It was the sound of Velites, Roman Missile Infantry, backed by Hastati and Legionaries. On Gaius Flaminius' order, the Velites dipped their ammunition in flames and fired on the villagers. Thirteen died. The wall erupted into a blaze before Jack's very eyes. The villager's morale began to plummet. "Ignite your arrows!" ordered Jack, and so they did. The Romans expected to roll through the town without resistance. The flaming arrows that pierced the black cloud they had created and set fire to the seventeen of their men shattered that illusion. The Roman infantry could not advance until the fire settled, and the Velites could not fire on a small number of loosely spaced villagers covered by the blackness of the thick carbon dioxide barrier between them. The villagers, however, could fire blindly and an arrow would surely find its mark in a sea of Romans. The Romans fired blindly, but jack heard their commanders order a second volley to be fired, so he ordered his men to take evasive action, and so they did, thus Jack suffered only one casualty. Jack ordered a second volley of arrows to be launched. The Romans once again took evasive action, but despite this they suffered another round of losses. This cycle repeated until almost half of the Velites remained, but the effectiveness of this strategy had begun to withdraw as the fire burned out and the smoke thickened. Jack began to suffer heavier losses with each returning volley. By the time the fire died out Jack had lost around twenty four men, while the Romans had lost 234 men. Now, the battle had begun to turn to the Roman's favor as from the east and west the villagers faced a great threat: Pretorian Cavalry. They came charging onto the flanks of the villagers in order to weaken the villagers before the infantry could surround them and take the village along with Jack's head. The infantry was advancing from the north and south, running at full speed, and eager to serve Rome. As the cavalry approached Jack waited attentively to issue they order that would catch the cavalry off guard. Since Captain Gaius was at the head of the Northern Army that sent the Velites, and the Southern Army under the Command of Captain Scippio also could not communicate as quickly as the cavalry ran towards the villagers with the eastern and western armies regarding the tactics of the villagers, the cavalry were caught completely off guard when Jack ordered the men drop their swords and equip their spears while standing in a tight formation forming a spear wall. The horses could not be turned around as quickly as the riders had hoped and so the cavalry slammed into the spear wall with the force that should have decimated the entire force had they been wielding swords. The horses began to fall one after the other along with their riders. Fifty warriors were fighting three hundred to the east, while the other fifty fought four hundred to the west, while the Roman infantry slowed as it thought the emptiness of the path implied the absence of defenders. Against the will of riders, the horses began to turn back, fleeing for their lives. One after the other like heard turned and ran towards the hills. The Captains of the eastern and western armies were furious and ordered them to return to the battlefield. The men carried out their orders, but the horses refused to gallop towards an early grave. Instead of firing on the villagers, the Velites fired upon the horses and their riders, killing them for deserting Rome.

Now, came the true test. With Cavalry gone, the power of Rome rested upon the infinite discipline of the infantry that had come to fight on the northern flank and the southern flank. Jack was engaged in a war on two fronts, a war he could not win with peasants. He realized this, but he also realized that retreat was not an option since they were surrounded. Jack ordered his men to fire one last volley onto the oncoming Romans and to draw their swords for what he knew would be their last time to do so. "Draw your swords and embrace your Gods!" he cried. The villagers did so happily, and fought the Roman infantry valiantly until the last man breathed no more. The Roman infantry sustained minimal casualties and has come towards Jack to encircle him. Neither party could retreat. Jack's conscience and circumstances forbade it, while the Romans could not for fear of their very lives. The Captains looked on eagerly and smiled sadistically at the slaughter they were about to observe. The Infantry advanced closer and closer from all four directions. The Northern and Southern armies merged in the east and west. None would advance until the last Roman was in formation. That was discipline. Jack would not advance until his enemy was prepared. That was honor. After what seemed like a decade of waiting patiently, Jack opened his eyes and gave a glare of determination, anger, and courage all at once. It was a look no man could not feel, even those who could not see it for themselves for it carried the power of one hundred and twenty happy martyrs, and the heat of the rage of a vengeful prince. "Units! Advance!" commanded the unit captain and the men began to swarm in to kill the Samurai who leapt into the air and landed several meters in the midst of the western army where those who advanced to the center could not reach him so easily. He had begun a strategy of dividing the army where he would deal with those coming in from the west first, and then those coming in from the other directions individually by leaping over those who were the 'meat shields' of the others. He soared into the sky like an eagle and gave a cry that rocked the hearts of men on each flank of the Roman force. His landing came with the slicing off of a Roman's arm, and the swift decapitation of his head. He then countered several strikes by slitting the attacker's throats. A man came from behind and he stabbed his gut without even looking. He moved faster than lighting, and he cut quicker than a bullet. All those who tried to attack him met their doom shortly after, but Jack was no god. He was quickly getting exhausted. Despite this the western army continued to suffer loses. He utilized every weapon in his arsenal. He dodged, he rolled, he evaded, he blocked, and he jumped, until the numbers of the enemy overwhelmed his limited battle techniques. As he jumped up to kick a man, another capitalized on the opportunity and slashed him in his back, leaving a scar, and an expression of pain on Jack's face as he stabbed the man he had just kicked. He looked over to the man that had just struck him and quickly severed his head form his shoulders. He could not swing as fast as he did when the battle started, so when he raised his sword to strike another man he was struck across the chest before delivering a devastating blow that killed three men. Another man capitalized on Jack's momentary respite by kicking him in the face, leaving him on the floor where a number of men set upon him, believing they had finally killed him. It is here that we can see the true measure of a man. His true worth is only visible in times of hardship and desperation, and Jack was not a weak man. He quickly pushed himself off the ground and kicking three men in the head and sending them to their graves shortly after. His pain only reminded him of the greater pain that gnawed at his heart. His anger at Aku only intensified and showed itself in the power of his strikes and his resilience as a fighter. He continued to fight valiantly until another blow struck him in the face, and another in the legs, and another in the back, and another in the back, with each striker being struck shortly after. Finally seven men managed to knock Jack down allowing fourteen others to set upon him once again. Here, Jack showed his willpower, for had it been another man this scene would have spelled martyrdom, but Jack is an extraordinary individual. By this point he was on the brink of defeat. His torso was covered in blood, his sweat was reddened with the blood that seemed like a mask on his face, and his legs failed to resist the power of the tireless, eager, and winded, but not exhausted, Romans.

It is in this scene that I saw what kind of man Jack really is, since I thought he was a dead man. Accordingly, I ordered my men to ram open the doors to the hut. Seeing Jack in this sorry state, with his hair completely undone, his eyes beady like those of an old man about to meet the sweet release of death, made me believe that we had won. That my men did not die for nothing. But open hearing the order escape my lips His eyes widened, and he broke free of the men detaining him. He grasped his sword and stood in the midst of an army of baffled men. He tore off his top to reveal a beating heart of a lion. A lion's heart only stops beating when the lion commands it, and Jack's conscience forbade me from taking the women and children for my men. The men were in shock, they tried to once again bring him down but he countered again. Again we injured him heavily, but this time he refused to fall. Instead he gave out a cry the likes of which I cannot describe. He then lunged at my men killing them one by one viciously, yet mercifully. First Ajax, then Albus, then Bartolomaeus, I still remember the order in which he picked them off one by one. He spared none. Even the deserters were slain, not because of his mercilessness but because of his mercifulness, for he knew as well as I that there was no merciful death awaiting my men. Even my commanding officers fled. I was all that was left of the eagle. I dropped my weapon. I said to him that I would not fight, nor would I flee to Rome. I begged his forgiveness. He saw goodness in me. He was a remarkable man, for after all that I had done, he sheathed his sword and looked at me in the eyes. I genuinely thought he would ask for my eternal servitude, or perhaps a few thousand coins. But he asked only one thing, and it was that I ensure the safety of all the orphaned children and widows within that hut. I cried, realizing that I had fought for the better part of six decades on the wrong side, and that I must have killed thousands of men who stood for the same principles I stand for today: mercy, truth, honor, and justice, principles Jack guided me to. No amount of stars or money could substitute for the simple act of doing good onto others. But what makes me feel happier than I have ever been all my life is that I have never killed a man more righteous than Samurai Jack.

4/28/2014