Disclaimer; I own nothing of Destiny or any other games, movies, books, etc. that I may take info from. All are property of their respective owner(s). I simply own the plot and my characters.
*ACD*
Chapter 1; Changed Fates
*ACD*
*11 Years Later*
"YAAAAH! C'mon people, move! Go go gogogo!" The now 21 year old James bellowed as he sprinted through the dense forest cover of southwest Pennsylvania, heavily modded M4-carbine airsoft rifle barking out short bursts every now and then. Diving over a log, he felt more than heard the responding rounds go whizzing over his head. Going into a roll, James quickly sprang up and tucked himself into a hollow behind a large boulder nearby. Within seconds, he was joined by Adam on his left, and Val on his right, both now 19.
"This isn't going well, James," Val said. "These guys are good."
"Aye," he sighed in agreement. It had started out as usual PUG scenario with another team challenging their team to a 5v5 game. Unfortionatly, despite their seemingly rented gear, the opposing team worked well together and obviously knew what they were doing. "We need to regroup with the other two. Last I heard, they were up over the south ridge, so let's concen-" James cut off as a glint of polished glass shining in the evening light drew his attention. "Sniper!" he barked, diving away from the hollow and starting to sprint back up to hill, the other two following behind.
As they came up the ridge, a metallic Tink! echoed off one of the surrounding boulders.
"Grenade!" Val called. "TAKE COVER!"
As one, the three dove for rocks and trees to put something between them and the oblong object that had just fallen neatly between them.
Crack! The high-end airsoft grenade released bursts of pressurized air, launching dozens of small pellets as a fire-cracker exploded in the special niche for it.
As soon as the pellets stopped raining down, the three once again took off for the flag, hoping that Mark(James' dad, and Doug(Val's father) had been able to get into a good position to help them out. Suddenly, their radios crackled, before Mark's voice came through.
"Circle around those rocks up ahead and draw them towards the east cave. I can get a clear shot from there. I would recommend either setting an ambush, or just going through the system like you normally do."
"Acknowledged," James said back into his mouthpiece.
Without saying anything, the three turned and started towards that maze of boulders that lay to their left. As they approached, Adam darted to the front, pulling out a specialty grenade. This one was designed to have a shorter burst time, meaning it would explode in midair, showering any beneath it with pellets. Arming it, Adam lobbed it forwards, the metallic object arcing high through the air. As soon as he had done so, the three pressed their back to trees for some semblance of cover from the impending shower of BBs.
Crack! Once again, the fire-cracker grenades delivered, making one responding "HIT!" be called out, a long rifle barrel lifted into the air with the shout. They had found their sniper at least. That left 4 remaining.
Sprinting forwards, they darted through the rocks, hearing the rapid crunching and the occasional pellet fired from the guys chasing them. Finally reaching the dark cave entrance, they formed a line and went in single file.
"Ok…" James murmured to himself, switching on a flashlight he took from one of the multitude of pockets adorning his plate carrier. "So, the third right, left, up the rocks, left again, and then right prong… And no stopping for creepy little ancient hobbits to catch up…"
Quietly, and careful not to make any sudden movements that would give away their positions from their shadowed figures, the three crept through the limestone caves. Every now and then, they could hear the barks of rifle fire from the cave entrance. Soon, they saw a patch of light up ahead, and as they hugged each side of the cave, waited for the all-clear. Looking to his left forearm every now and then, James noticed a small panel blinking with an emerald green light. Silently, he pressed down on the same panel, making it flash blue once, before going dark. The wrist mounted signaling device was a creation of Adam's, their resident electrical hardware specialist. James was good at programming his inventions, but Adam was best at building them.
Darting out of the cave, the trio raced up the remaining portion of the hill, running full tilt towards the opposing team's base camp. Again, Adam tossed a few grenades into the area, clearing the way. Only one hit was called out, so they went in with guns blazing towards any possible cover. It turned out to be unnessesary, as no one popped up to return fire. As they stood back-to-back, James and Adam covered for Val as she yanked the scarlet flag out of the stand and waved it high in the air.
"GAME!" Val's mom, Sherry, called over the radios. "Blue team wins with a total of two people down, and the flag captured! Red team has four down and no flag captured! Good game everyone!"
*ACD*
Back at the camp the three families had set up, they were all laughing and sharing stories of the day. By now, the sun had set and the nearly full moon was reaching its peak.
"Whoever they were, they were good. I wish they would've stuck around for a bit," Mark said as he tended the pan of pop-corn popping over the fire.
"Aye," James replied, sitting on a nearby log that served as a bench and starting to clean and oil his carbine. Nearby, Adam was tinkering with another of his creations, while Val was poking around at the quad bike she had brought along "just for fun." Merilyn(James' mother), Emily(Adam's mom), and Sherry had already gone to sleep in their tents, leaving the kids and the two men to stay up later.
An hour or so of talking and laughing later and James finally stood up.
"Well," he said with a yawn. "I'm beat. G'night!"
Turning and walking away from the fire, he got a few "Night!"s back at him with vague waves from Val and Adam. Shaking his head, James made his way over to the covered bed of his white '06 Nissan Frontier and gently placed his now cleaned rifle with the rest of his gear, before heading for his tent.
*ACD*
The next morning, James awoke to find the sun just peaking over the horizon, with the wonderful smell of his dad's waffles and bacon wafting through the camp. Smiling, he quickly got dressed before unzipping his tent door, only to be staring down the orange-blazed muzzles of his friends and family's airsoft guns. With a startled yelp, years of honed combat instincts reared their head and he quickly ducked back into his tent, franticly grabbing for an airsoft sidearm that wasn't there.
Hearing raucous laughter of the others from outside his tent, James cautiously poked his head out, only to see them seated over by the fire, waiting for breakfast to be served. Looking back at the "people" standing in front of his tent, James scowled as he saw it was simply a few stick figures they had made and placed their gear on.
"Oh, hardy har har," he said sarcasticly as he finally emerged from the tent, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance at his companion's prank. "Laugh it up, why don't ya?"
That only set them off further, James joining in as well this time.
Moments later, everyone had a plate of buttermilk waffles and extra-thick cut bacon, all of it slathered in syrup. As they sat around the fire, eating their waffles and some of them(read; James) on their forth cup of hot tea, the plans for the day were discussed.
"So," Mark said. "We finished up the airsoft portion of this little outing yesterday with that last group. So, today we're playing with blades."
Upon hearing that, James instantly perked up, to both the amusement and slight warriness of his companions.
"Ok!" he said, suddenly completely awake and enthusiastic. "When do we start?"
"Well, as soon as we get everything together. We'll start with traditional French fencing first, before a few team battles, followed by a free-for-all, and then a lightsaber tournament just before dinner. We'll eat and drive home after that." As James opened his mouth to ask a question, Mark beat him to it. "And before you ask, no, we're not using your metal blades. Every time you use them for anything but fencing, we all go home as just one giant bruise. Get your wood ones out."
Grumbling slightly, James conceded. He always tried to have everyone use his blades since he had forged them himself over the years to fit each one of them perfectly. He had made two different types of blade for them; war blades, which had razor sharp edges; and dueling blades, which looked nearly identical to his war blades, but had blunt edges and tips so they could be used in practice duels against each other.
Finishing their breakfast, everyone started donning their fencing gear, mainly consisting of heavy, padded cloth, with some cured leather and thin metal plates riveted on. Finishing tying his boot laces together, James walked over to his truck, shifting a few things out of the way, before withdrawing six beautifully carved cherry wood boxes, each having a unique carving.
Grasping a few of the large, astoundingly heavy boxes by the handles, James made his way made to the fire. Placing each down, he went back for the rest. Repeating this a few times, everyone finally had their own case in front of them. Once he was seated, James grasped the one that had a landscape consisting of a background of snowy, forested mountains, while flights of dragons, gryphons and phoenixes soared across the sky, with wolves, unicorns, and large cats bounded through the forests and plains below. Each animal was carved in painstaking detail, with thin burn and blade lines marking fur, feathers, or scales on the various creatures. It was the cumulative effort of multiple months of work, and was one of the most intricate pieces he had ever made. Pulling it onto his lap and opening the brass clasp keeping the case closed, he glanced about as the others did the same. Adam had a depiction of the Grim Reaper on the front of his case, maciacle grin seeming to leap from the carving, the souls of the dead swirling about him in a maelstrom of energy. Val's had a forest scene of a mother bear protecting her cubs against a pack of indistinct, shadowy creatures, seeming to move as the sunlight hit them and made shadows in the carved grooves. Mark's showed a lone wolf dashing through the woods and the plains, reveling in the hunt of his prey. Each wavy strand of fur was made from a thin burn line that blurred into each other. Doug had a picture of a snarling lion protecting his kill from a pack of hyennas, the grass of the plains seeming to wave in the wind. Emily's had a herd of unicorns bounding away from a threat while a single huge mare stood her ground against a pack of dire wolves.
Reaching inside, James' hands brushed against the assortment of blades, the long slivers of shining steel the reason why the case was so heavy. Finding the one he was after, James withdrew the long, thin fencing foil, followed by one of his dueling daggers to serve as a main gauche.
Snapping the case closed, he stood up, quickly belting on the sheaths for his chosen weapons. James was definetly a believer in the theory that if you can't spar in your gear, you can't fight in it either. Moving to the side, he withdrew his foil, giving he simple hilt a once over, followed by the blade, before bending and swishing the length of steel to test for any imperfections or obvious faults. Finding none, he returned the blade to its sheath at his left hip, before drawing the dagger sheathed at the small of his back. Repeating the checking process, he turned, satisfied, and went back to camp just as the others were finishing the same procedures.
Leaving the rest of their gear back at camp, they walked to a nearby clearing, before making a circle. Stepping forwards, Emily spoke.
"Ok, you know the drill," she said, holding up an opaque bag. "Reach in and draw a name. That'll be your partner for this round. First blood wins the round, losers fight each other, same for the winners. Of the two groups of three that will be then, the two with the lower scores from previous games will be the first to fight. The winner of that group will fight the remaining person, while the loosing group from the first round does the same until the two remaining face each other. The winner chooses the next game."
Reaching in, James drew out a slip of paper. On it, the name "Mark," was neatly written. Val and Adam do the same, Adam placing his back and drawing again since he had gotten his own name. Once that was done, each of the three call out the names of their opponent.
"Dad," James says calmly. Mark winced slightly; his son was known for whipping lightning fast attacks at him.
"Doug," Adam calls, shrinking back slightly as the much larger man gave him a predatory grin.
"That leaves me with you then, dear," Emily said as she tossed the bag to Merilyn and walked over to Val.
Walking over to his father, James drew his foil and gave it a few warm-up swings, Mark doing the same a few feet across from him. Drawing up to dueling range, they both salute each other before falling into the standard fencing stance; body sideways, dominate arm forwards, weight even between both legs, off hand out behind for balance.
Circling a few times, they cautiously flick a few light feints at the other to check their defences. Neither moved. Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement; Mark had attacked.
Calmly, James blocked and parried his attacks waiting for an opening… There! Just as Mark drew back for a stab, James was on the offensive, whipping his foil through the air, marking each move in his head as he performed them.
High feint to right shoulder, tap and slash towards left torso. Blocked, good. Pause, slash to the right, blocked, follow through with overhead slam, parried. Keep moving, high right slash, pretend to feint with it, and… Gotcha!
With a quick twist of his blade, James had his father's foil spinning away. Quickly, he raised the tip of his blade to rest at the base of Mark's neck. A few seconds later, they moved back and bowed to each other. James sheathed his blade before turning to watch as the other fights continued while his father retrieved his own foil.
Within moments, Val strikes down Emily, while Doug does the same to Adam. James winced. Knowing those two, Val would win and then James would be the objective of her ire.
Sure enough, within moments, Doug was poked in the chest with his daughter's foil, eliminating him from that round. Once again, James and his new opponet started to circle.
Testing their defences, both James and Val studied any changes in the other's style. Before long, Val started using very flashy techniques, hoping to distract James with how she was spinning around and leaping to the side. He simply weathered the storm, redirecting or avoiding each of her attacks.
Suddenly, just as she came around in a spinning backhand strike to James' left side, he drew his dagger and blocked. The sudden change from the constant redirection made Val pause for split second, which was just enough time for them to start trading blows evenly.
Eventually, both of their blades were out of position, before being whipped up towards the other's neck. Once again, James moved his dagger into the path of Val's foil at the last second, stopping it from reaching his neck, while his own touched the skin at the crook of Val's neck and shoulder.
Pausing, they grinned at each other, lowering their blades and saluting.
*ACD*
In the dimming light of the summer evening, all was silent as six cloaked figures stared each other down. Suddenly, there were multiple Snap-hiss's that sounded through the clearing as long collums of light were switched on in each of the figure's hands. There was a variety of colors, ranging from simple blinding silvery-white, to blue and green, to purple, yellow, bronze, and even red. Shrugging off their cloaks, their faces were revealed as each took a different stance. Grinning, they lunged forwards on an unspoken signal.
Smiling savagely, James sprinted forwards with his two white lightsaber props held trailing behind him. Going straight for the saber-pike wielding Doug, he heard the whisper of cloth and hum of another prop saber being swung through the air. Throwing himself to the side, he rolled and popped back up, sabers held at the ready in his custom opening stance; his feet in an L shape, right foot directly underneath him and toes pointed to the side with most of his weight on it, while his left was stretched out in front of him. His left saber was held in a low Makashi ready position, while the right was held up and horizontally behind his head.
Looking at the figures arrayed before him, James grinned. It seems as though they had made an agreement of sorts to eliminate him before anyone else. Though, judging by the times various sabers were being swung at each other, that peace wouldn't last for long. Staring at each other, they each waited for the other to make the first move.
Hearing a slight crunch of dry leaves from behind him, James spun, deflecting the red blade of Doug's saber-pike as the older man thrust it forwards. Continuing his spin, James ended up behind Doug, where he then shoved the larger man forwards, adding to the energy already there, and making him stumble in Merilyn. That was the apparent signal for the others to leap at James, though Mark unexpectedly engaged Val before she could reach his son; mark's yellow and Val's violet blades clashing.
That left Adam to face James. Knowing that Adam was a proficient Juyo user, though he lacked the speed to truly master the Vaapad variant of the form, James sunk into the opening stance of Soresu. By no means was James a master of Form III, but he was adequate to weather the storm… or so he hoped.
Adam lunged forwards with the traditional heavy over-head slash that was a signature move of Juyo. Rather than block it, James swept Adam's bronze blade to the side with one of his own white ones. Rather than stumble as James had hoped he would, Adam recovered very quickly, using the momentum to spin around and continue the attack. And so it went on; Adam ferociously attacking, James redirecting and blocking.
Finally seeing an opening, James fell into Makashi, ducking under one of Adam's swipes and landing a quick jab to his chest. Sighing, Adam switched his saber off and walked to the side.
Turning, James again saw the rest of the crew rushing at him. Falling into the stance he had taken at the beginning, his personal Qo Nah(or Lightning's Fury) Jar Kai form, he grinned. This was going to be fun.
*ACD*
"Ow, James. Just… Ow," came Doug's disgruntled voice through the radios that everyone was still using from their airsoft adventures the day before.
"Not my fault you didn't block that strike," James replied as he coaxed his truck around another tight turn in the road, before gunning it back up to the speed limit, making Val squeak slightly from her position in the passenger seat.
"He's got you there, Doug," Adam said from his spot reclined in the back seat of Mark's '04 Chevy Trailblazer.
"If James there wouldn't be so damned fast with his blades, I might have stood a chance."
Before James could reply, Adam beat him to it.
"Doug, he was using his Qo form, not Ataru or Djem-so. You were using Makashi, which focuses on redirection, not blocking. James trains to conserve his momentum, not to be unbalanced when the target doesn't block. It's your own fault and- Does anyone else see those lights up ahead?"
"Aye," James replies from his position in the lead of the group. "Might just be some police catching a guy," he continues, slowing down and turning off the music Val was listening to in case there were any sirens to be heard.
Rounding the bend, there weren't any cars. In fact, the light seemed to be coming from in the woods off to the side of the road. Curious, James pulled over and turned on his flashers. Getting out, He pulled his main war blades from their case on the back seat. As he belted the twin swords and daggers on, he also made sure he had his Sig Sauer 1911 .45 Fastback Nightmare holstered securely on his hip.
Walking around his truck, he saw Val drawing her pocket knives, while the rest of the crew came up behind them, all with some sort of weapon on their person. Moving into the woods, they fell back onto their standard team airsoft tactics, with each of them who had a gun covering each other as they advanced. Soon coming to the clearing where the light was shining, they lowered their weapons in confusion as it wasn't a person to be seen, other than themselves of course. Even more odd, was the fact that the light was emanating from a floating sphere in the center of the clearing.
Holstering his pistol, James slowly approached the orb, cautiously reaching out a hand, and poked it. Leaping back, he waited for something to happen. After a moment of nothing, they all relaxed. That turned out to be a mistake.
Three bright tendrils of light shot out of the orb, grasping James, Adam, and Val around their chests, before yanking them backwards before they had a chance to do more than just shout in surprise. Crying out, the parents rushed forwards, hands grasping futially at their children's hands. Then, they were gone, and the glowing orb closed in on itself, leaving no trace of it ever being there.
They were gone.
*ACD*
Pain.
Every one of James' nerves felt like it was being torn to pieces by the portal, his bones feeling like they were constantly breaking and reforming, his flesh tearing and healing.
Shadow.
The darkness eveloped him, cradling him as the pain receded, replaced by blissful peace. He had no idea how long he floated there, surrounded by wisps of comforting shadow.
Fire.
No longer did James float peacefully. Instead, his veins felt like they were filled with liquid fire, each beat of his heart burning his body from the inside out.
Lightning.
Electricity arced over and through his body, setting nerves a-fire and muscles spasming. It was all he could do to not black out.
Agony.
The pain returned, magnified a hundredfold as the energies of the portal swirled around him faster and faster in a maelstrom of energy. Finally, the pain was too much and he started screaming, his throat going raw from the sheer volume.
All at once, the suffering ended, and just as James finally relaxed in confusion, he was spat out onto a dusty platue, surrounded by old, rusted cars and trucks. Looking around, he spotted what seemed to be a decrepted old man in odd clothes walking around a short distance away. Cautiously and hand on the butt of his pistol, he called out.
"Hello? Could you tell me where I am? I seem to have lost my way… What the hell?!" As he started to speak, the "old man" had turned around and looked right at him.
It turned out not to be and old man after all, but some sort of alien humanoid with greyish skin and shocking white hair. Raising the odd weapon in it's right hand, the creature fired a volley of blue energy bolts at James.
Yelping, he dove behind a nearby car as the bolts shot past. Well, it shot first, and James had no qualms about shooting back.
Drawing his trusty Sig, he carefully peered around the side of the car, only to find more of the same creatures arrayed before him, with another type that appeared to have four arms. Eyes widening, he hastily brought up his gun, and took careful aim. Squeezing the trigger, James managed to down one of the larger, four-armed ones before the rest took notice of his hiding spot and opened fire. Ducking to the other side of the car, the lone human let loose with a volley of shots, taking one of the smaller figures down and nicking the side of another. Still more poured from the surrounding area, circling him and closing in. Desperatly, he fired into the mass of aliens, taking more down. All too soon however, he heard the click of an empty mag.
Cursing, James ejected the current mag and slammed a new one home, which happened to his only extra. Letting the slide rock forward, he took aim again, taking down another 5 with his 8 remaining shots before the click sounded again. Thumbing the slide release, he holstered the gun before reaching for his long-knives.
With an inarticulate scream of rage, he rushed forwards towards the largest grouping on the aliens he could find. Grunting, he shrugged off the pain as one of the bolts grazed his left cheek, leaving a deep burn that would definetly leave a scar. And then he was among them, a whirling, twirling maelstrom of flashing steel and concussive kicks. One after another they went down, some missing their heads, some gushing blue blood from what were hopefully mortal wounds.
Raising his blade once more to drive the steel through yet another alien's skull, James heard a sudden whining Snap-Bang! just as he felt a sudden sharp pain from his chest. Freezing, he slowly looked down, only to see a gaping, bloody hole where his heart used to be. Staggering, he fell to his knees, blades clattering to the ground from suddenly limp fingers. Looking up at the sky as he tumbled backwards, James' last thoughts were to hope that his friends were safe.
*ACD*
A/N; Ok, this is officially the largest chapter I have ever written. I do not expect to keep this up, but we'll see how it goes. Took me forever to write this...
