Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it's not mine. if you don't recognize it, it's still probably not mine. except cobweb. she's mine.
Summary: In the beginning of all the best stories, everyone meets in a tavern. Theodore Kurita, Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, gets a different ending, or possibly a new beginning. Definitely Multicross.
Warnings: none
Ouroboros
By Dragon of Dispair
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Alien crickets chirped an equally alien rhythm: Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chee-Chirp.
That was how they knew the enemy was resting for the night, as they were. The tread of battlemechs silenced the forest even before the ponderous footsteps could be heard by human ears.
Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chee-Chirp.
He brushed dust from his DEST uniform, settling the lion-pommeled katana between his shoulder blades, and began his patrol. He moved around the camp, checking on his soldiers. They collected together around lanterns and tent heaters. It was cold and the soldiers wore a mix of their service uniforms and their dress uniforms, all in SLDF green. The camp was tense, as it always was the eve before the battle and to lighten the mood of the soldiers, he saluted Takashi-the-rat, his unit's flag, with a single finger. Chuckles spread out around him and the soldiers relaxed a notch. He ended his patrol, as he always did, at his own battlemech, a captured Clan Masakari. The Legions of Vega lacked a formal color scheme, but favored reds and greys and his own was no different. A rabbit hopped away from his reflection in the charcoal grey paint.
His father stood behind his reflection, but he ignored the Coordinator as he swung into the cockpit of his familiar Orion. The nova cat curled up on his chair protested when he moved it so that he could run a system check. He had to be careful to avoid it's poisonous spines as it ruffled it's fur to express its displeasure. It huffed grumpily and jumped up on his console to clean one of it's wicked claws.
He ignored it and settled into the seat to run the system check, a checklist of actions as familiar as his own heartbeat...
Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chee-Chirp.
There was a cricket in his cockpit.
Chee-Chirp. Chee-Chirp.
Theodore opened his eyes in time to see the shadow briefly block out the light of the moon as it moved into the cave. He watched the creature through stealthy, narrow slits between his eyelids, creeping his hand towards his wakazashi next to him. When it stood to it's full height to sniff one of the rice barrels, briefly catching the moonlight again, then returned to all fours, he recognized what it was.
He moved and heard the Nezumi start, knocking over a pile of the bandits' junk. It squeaked in distress and began scurrying back to the entrance of the cave.
"Wait," he called after it. He couldn't be certain it stopped as it had moved so quietly before he'd startled it, but the sounds of frightened scurrying stopped. He groaned and levered himself out of the bedroll he'd commandeered and fumbled for a candle. He wished briefly for a cigarette lighter, but then resigned himself to lighting it from the dark coals that still smoldered outside.
Eye shine was the first thing he saw, then the rest of the Nezumi resolved itself. This one was covered in uniform dark brown fur and its kimono was a tattered woman's garment, pink with a pattern of white flowers. He wanted to conclude that the Nezumi was female as a result, but he refrained. Everything he'd seen of Rokugan thus far made him think that Nezumi were scavengers; would the difference between a woman's garment and a man's mean anything to a non-human? It twitched its whiskers as Theodore placed the candle on a flat rock. "What brings you to this cave, friend?"
It twitched an ear. "Aka-aka promised to bring Ik'rik'uk the treasure."
Aka-aka must refer to the bandit, Akahito. "Why?"
"I find boy-pup. Boy-pup's father is chief-chief of no-hair warren. Chief-chief make promise: bring back pup and get big reward, but Nezumi no-no can go to human warren." The creature didn't stop twitching.
"I see," he could envision what had happened. Ik'rik'uk had found the boy (or a boy; there was no guarantee that a Nezumi could distinguish between humans accurately enough to recognize the General's son) and heard about the reward. But he knew that he couldn't go near the town without trouble and had approached the bandits to retrieve it for him. The bandits of course had made plans to kill the Nezumi and the child he guarded and keep whatever they extorted from Daidoji. "My name is Kurita Theodore," he introduced himself, in part because A'Timitr'D'n'Kir had been so concerned with its name when they'd met and in part for lack of anything else to say while he thought.
"My name Ik'rik'uk. It is a good name." It sat back on its haunches, curling its hairless tail around it's hind feet. "You kill-kill Aka-aka?"
"Yes." He followed the creature's lead and settled on the floor of the cave, though he sat on one of the bedrolls as the stone was cold. "Is Daidoji Shota safe and well?"
It scratched behind one ear, chasing some sort of flea or louse with long dextrous fingers. When it caught the irritant, it examined the speck between its claws and perfunctorily ate whatever it was. "Him safe-safe in tribe warren. Aka-aka no nice, even for no-nice no-hairs. Came for treasure, then take Shota to edge of human warren where he find his own way home-home."
Theodore chuckled. He'd bet his Orion that if the topic ever came up, his fellow humans would claim that the Nezumi's manner of speech was indicative of stupidity, but he would never believe it. "I don't have your treasure."
"You maybe go and get for me?" it asked hopefully. "Tribe say no-hair pup no-worth anything. Want to take him back to where I found him, or give him to nurse-mother to raise with her litter. I say I can get treasure, so tribe keep him safe today."
Theodore thought. He certainly couldn't give Ik'rik'uk the ransom money he'd recovered from the bandits. "What sort of treasure do you want?"
It shrugged it's narrow shoulders. "Any-any thing. Shiny things. Warm things."
He wanted access to this cave and its food in case the General was angry enough to refuse Theodore because he failed to retrieve the boy before the full moon, but in truth he didn't need much of what the bandits had collected beyond the foodstuffs. Conversely, if Daidoji were still insistent on giving the offered reward, rather than the one Theodore wanted, he could rightfully insist that the court position go to the one who'd actually found the boy and kept him safe these last few weeks. That offer had not just been made to Theodore, but to anyone who could find Shota, and it would amuse him greatly to see the General's reaction to Theodore's insistence that the court position go to Ik'rik'uk instead.
He laughed, earning a blink from the Nezumi.
Theodore shook his head. He began sorting through the stuff. He claimed an extra bedroll and rolled it up and piled it with a flint and steel, a knife, a wooden bowl and chopsticks, candles and a few other things he'd not yet managed to acquire in the way of camping gear. Then he sorted through the piles of junk, pulling out the functional pieces needed to clean and maintain his swords, a decorated hair comb, a compass, and several spools of cotton thread in several colors and a few small items of clothing like a headband and two pairs of tabi socks that weren't in too much disrepair. These he piled together at the end of the cave with his pack and moved everything else away. "Could you help me?" he asked, gesturing to one of the rice barrels and indicating that he wanted it moved to the end with his things. Ik'rik'uk's whiskers twitched, then without a word or gesture of agreement he did as asked.
When they had the cave arranged the way Theodore wanted, he drew a line in the dust, separating the food and things he was keeping from the rest of the bandits' loot. "If you bring Shota here, tomorrow during daylight, I will give you everything on this," he gestured to the piles of the bandits' spoils, "side of the line for your tribe. We can talk about further treasure then, yes?"
Ik'rik'uk cocked its head thoughtfully. Its eyes could have been blank and beady, but were actually very expressive, though Theodore didn't trust his judgement when determining just what they were expressing. It dug experimentally through the piles as though estimating their value, then it turned and left the cave without word or gesture of agreement or denial.
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He could still hear the damn crickets. Nothing like the night-calling insects of Luthien, these insisted on holding to an alien, more Terran, rhythm. It was at the same time both soothing and maddening. He kept trying to make sense of something that he knew was at it's core utterly strange to him.
Chee-Chrip. Chee-Chee-Chirp.
He rather wanted to go and murder every one of the damn bugs.
The crickets wouldn't bother him so much if he could go back to sleep. He wasn't afraid to dream again. The juxtaposition of images had been strange, but not truly unsettling. He had issues with his father, his sons and with the whole damn march of history since he was assigned to the Legions… it wasn't news to him. The reflection of Takashi on a surface that should not have been reflective, a battlemech that had never sported that color scheme, and a nova cat sitting in Kerensky's Orion were no surprise to his old and battered psyche.
He didn't know why he wasn't going back to sleep.
Chee-Chirp.
So he chose to blame the crickets, cursing them as he paced and waited for dawn and the hope that Ik'rik'uk would return with Shota when the sun rose.
He wiped his face and scowled. He badly needed to shave.
He paced, then repacked his gear and spoils, then paced some more, over and over until dawn. Then he relit the fire and paced while he cooked a breakfast of rice porridge and pickled greens. He made enough for himself and his anticipated guests, covering the pot and letting it sit over the coolest part of the fire, where it could stay warm all day without scorching. Then he paced.
Of all the things he'd ever believed he might regret not grabbing from the Inn before storming out the door, one of those obscenely boring treatises that were routinely retrieved from the back rooms had not been something he'd thought he might miss. But mind-numbing was something he wouldn't mind right about now.
A rustle had him whirling to face the new arrivals: Ik'rik'uk, another Nezumi with dark fur and kimono made entirely of patched cloth in a dozen colors, and finally a young boy of about ten. Theodore relaxed. "Daidoji Shota?" he asked, kneeling down to get a closer look at him.
The boy crowded close to Ik'rik'uk, who chittered something in his own tongue and ran a clawed hand through the messy black hair comfortingly. "Yes," he finally answered, "I am."
Theodore'd need a better look at him to be reasonably certain, but he nodded anyway. "I've made breakfast for you and your friends." He gestured to the fire and the porridge still warming there. While they ate he got a good look at the boy. He resembled his father, which was fortunate and relaxed Theodore further. He also clung to Ik'rik'uk or the other Nezumi like they were the last bastions of safety in a terrifying world. If Theodore had not already been planning on taking Ik'rik'uk back with them, that would have made him reconsider.
"KuritaTheodore," Ik'rik'uk said once they were done. "You say cave-treasure is for tribe? I bring Rik'ka'jik to mark line."
Theodore bowed to the other Nezumi, introducing himself and noting that Ik'rik'uk chittered along with his words, translating. The darker Nezumi chittered back. "Rik'ka'jik say you are good no-hair. She ask you to show-show her mark."
He led them to the back of the cave. "Here," he pointed as Ik'rik'uk chittered-translated. "I'll be taking the pack with me when I leave, and if I do not return by the next full moon your tribe may claim the foodstuffs as well."
There was a short, high pitched conversation. "She say she understand. She make sure tribe leave food for you, until tomorrow-moon."
He let the Nezumi begin their marking, which seemed to involve a lot of rubbing her nose on the cave walls on the part of Rik'ka'jik and wandered over to Shota, who himself had wandered off to examine the piles of bandit-junk. "Hello, Shota-san," he kept his voice low and soothing. The boy looked up and stumbled back a step. He looked like he would have liked to bolt for the two Nezumi but held his ground. Brave young samurai. "My name is Kurita Theodore. Your father sent me to look for you."
This got the boy's interest. "Papa?"
"Would you like to introduce your new friend to your papa?" he asked, figuring that the idea that one of the Nezumi would be coming with them might make him braver.
He was right; Shota stood up taller, looked less ready to bolt. "Yes-yes I would, sir."
Theodore tilted his head a bit, curious. General Daidoji had said nothing about his son having a stutter…
…Actually that didn't quite sound like an actual stutter; it sounded more like the way the Ik'rik'uk and A'Timitr occasionally repeated words when talking. Several weeks living with the Nezumi was obviously going to leave its mark. That was going to make things interesting for the family, he thought.
Then shrugged. It wasn't his concern.
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tbc...
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