Remus: I'm sorry about the time between updates, but I have finally managed to overcome writer's block. Also, since both Tenya and my little brother (and some folks who reviewed Nexus) requested it, I will change the format of my stories so they are easier to read (but longer). Anyway...
Mark led the digidestined through back alleys, tunnels and abandoned buildings. At first they were clumped behind the Biogen who was their only hope for survival, but as they began talking amongst themselves in small groups, they began to spread out and soon formed a rather long train. The farthest back were easily 100 feet behind the Minuteman, but as long as they could either see the people in front of them, or Mark, they were content to walk slowly and discuss the worst that could happen. They'd faced death many times before, but always with their digimon to back them up. Now their only hopes were a man they didn't trust and a few handguns.
"Tai, are you actually going to shoot that thing?"
"I don't plan on it."
"Then why did you take one? Your crest is Courage, not suicide."
"I-I dunno, I guess 'cause I have to protect you."
"How are you going to do that without shooting people? By drawing their fire? Tai, maybe you think that it would be better for you to die than me, but I..I'm not going to be alone, okay Tai? I won't let you leave me!"
Sora had given up on trying not to cry, and tears now streamed down her face at the thought of losing her beloved. Tai threw the gun into a nearby trashcan and hugged her, wispering that they would be okay, in an attempt to reassure them both.
*******************************************
"I'd thought we wouldn't have to go through this again."
"What was I supposed to do, Takato, not accept a gun? You know me."
"Yes, and I know all too well how you can get when you start shooting."
"When was the last time I lost control?"
"About a thousand years ago, and it was also the last time you fired a gun."
"Are you saying I've lost my skill, because I haven't."
"I'm saying," he sighed, trying to find words that would get through to her, "don't overdo it, okay? Please try to use defensive fire, and let them surrender if they want to."
*********************************************
"Are you sure we'll be okay?"
"Don't worry Jeri, I'll protect you."
"Aww, how sweet."
To the casual observer it might have appeared that there was something going on between the two tamers, but their friends knew better. Even still, a lot had changed since the Tamer's first adventure in the digiworld. Some things, however, remained exactly the same.
"Yeah, he'll protect all of us."
Ryo sighed. The Great Upheaval and its aftermath had allowed him to leave almost all of his fans behind. Almost. Kazu and Kenta's childish idolization almost made the time he got to spend with old friends like Ken not worth it. (A/N: I believe the Ryo that Ken saved from one of Milleniumon's dark spores is the same Ryo from Tamers, and if anyone wants, I can post the address of a site with proof that they're the same person) Ryo glanced over at Henry, who tried his best to look sympathetic. It was hard, though, considering how funny the whole thing was.
***********************************************
Izzy, Yolie, and Ken, talking about computers to keep their minds off more grim topics, were passed by two people who seemed amazingly comfortable with the whole situation. They strolled past, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, smiling as though they hadn't a care in the world. The three-person conversation quickly changed from computers to their friends' attitude towards possible death. "I asked Joe about it myself a few years ago. He said that Mimi's attitude is that live or die, they're destined to be together, so why worry."
"That's enough to reassure Joe?"
"Apparently."
"You gotta admire it, though. It takes a lot of guts to be that fatalistic."
"So anyway, do you think Windows will ever be as good as Mac?"
"Never happen, not in a million years."
Meanwhile, the people they'd been talking about had walked fast enough to catch up with Mark. Joe was horrified to find the Minuteman smoking a cigar.
"Cuba, gotta love it."
"Smoking's bad for you."
"You ever seen an old war movie? The guys in old war movies are always smoking cigars."
"You'll ruin your lungs."
The Minuteman snorted tobacco smoke out his nose. "I'd have to have lungs for that," he said, tossing away the stub.
He walked a few more steps, then halted, holding up his hand to indicate that those with him were to stop.
"We're getting pretty close; we should wait for the others."
When all the digidestined were assembled behind him, Mark gave them all earplugs.
"What do we need these for?"
"The last time I fired my weapon, you were yards away and it knocked you out. You'll be a lot closer this time, and I can't have you guys fainting on me."
When the enemy fortress came into view, he indicated a clump of rocks the digidestined should hide behind. "What are you doing?!?" one of them asked as he calmly walked out into the open.
"Halt, who goes there?"
Mark looked up at the guard who had challenged him. The fort would be a problem. It was a fourty-foot tall wall of scrap steel and concrete built on a low hill. Guns were sticking out of numerous holes, and all were pointed at him.
"I am the Minuteman, and you have in there something I want. I will give you this one chance to surrender, and then I will blow you all to hell."
A single shot rang out from atop the walls, like the crack of a whip. It was answered by a thunderclap from the rocks behind the Minuteman.
As the sniper's headless body plunged from the parapets, Mark pulled the flattened slug off his forehead. "I guess," he said, crushing the metal between his fingers and drawing his gun, "That's a no."
Mark led the digidestined through back alleys, tunnels and abandoned buildings. At first they were clumped behind the Biogen who was their only hope for survival, but as they began talking amongst themselves in small groups, they began to spread out and soon formed a rather long train. The farthest back were easily 100 feet behind the Minuteman, but as long as they could either see the people in front of them, or Mark, they were content to walk slowly and discuss the worst that could happen. They'd faced death many times before, but always with their digimon to back them up. Now their only hopes were a man they didn't trust and a few handguns.
"Tai, are you actually going to shoot that thing?"
"I don't plan on it."
"Then why did you take one? Your crest is Courage, not suicide."
"I-I dunno, I guess 'cause I have to protect you."
"How are you going to do that without shooting people? By drawing their fire? Tai, maybe you think that it would be better for you to die than me, but I..I'm not going to be alone, okay Tai? I won't let you leave me!"
Sora had given up on trying not to cry, and tears now streamed down her face at the thought of losing her beloved. Tai threw the gun into a nearby trashcan and hugged her, wispering that they would be okay, in an attempt to reassure them both.
*******************************************
"I'd thought we wouldn't have to go through this again."
"What was I supposed to do, Takato, not accept a gun? You know me."
"Yes, and I know all too well how you can get when you start shooting."
"When was the last time I lost control?"
"About a thousand years ago, and it was also the last time you fired a gun."
"Are you saying I've lost my skill, because I haven't."
"I'm saying," he sighed, trying to find words that would get through to her, "don't overdo it, okay? Please try to use defensive fire, and let them surrender if they want to."
*********************************************
"Are you sure we'll be okay?"
"Don't worry Jeri, I'll protect you."
"Aww, how sweet."
To the casual observer it might have appeared that there was something going on between the two tamers, but their friends knew better. Even still, a lot had changed since the Tamer's first adventure in the digiworld. Some things, however, remained exactly the same.
"Yeah, he'll protect all of us."
Ryo sighed. The Great Upheaval and its aftermath had allowed him to leave almost all of his fans behind. Almost. Kazu and Kenta's childish idolization almost made the time he got to spend with old friends like Ken not worth it. (A/N: I believe the Ryo that Ken saved from one of Milleniumon's dark spores is the same Ryo from Tamers, and if anyone wants, I can post the address of a site with proof that they're the same person) Ryo glanced over at Henry, who tried his best to look sympathetic. It was hard, though, considering how funny the whole thing was.
***********************************************
Izzy, Yolie, and Ken, talking about computers to keep their minds off more grim topics, were passed by two people who seemed amazingly comfortable with the whole situation. They strolled past, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, smiling as though they hadn't a care in the world. The three-person conversation quickly changed from computers to their friends' attitude towards possible death. "I asked Joe about it myself a few years ago. He said that Mimi's attitude is that live or die, they're destined to be together, so why worry."
"That's enough to reassure Joe?"
"Apparently."
"You gotta admire it, though. It takes a lot of guts to be that fatalistic."
"So anyway, do you think Windows will ever be as good as Mac?"
"Never happen, not in a million years."
Meanwhile, the people they'd been talking about had walked fast enough to catch up with Mark. Joe was horrified to find the Minuteman smoking a cigar.
"Cuba, gotta love it."
"Smoking's bad for you."
"You ever seen an old war movie? The guys in old war movies are always smoking cigars."
"You'll ruin your lungs."
The Minuteman snorted tobacco smoke out his nose. "I'd have to have lungs for that," he said, tossing away the stub.
He walked a few more steps, then halted, holding up his hand to indicate that those with him were to stop.
"We're getting pretty close; we should wait for the others."
When all the digidestined were assembled behind him, Mark gave them all earplugs.
"What do we need these for?"
"The last time I fired my weapon, you were yards away and it knocked you out. You'll be a lot closer this time, and I can't have you guys fainting on me."
When the enemy fortress came into view, he indicated a clump of rocks the digidestined should hide behind. "What are you doing?!?" one of them asked as he calmly walked out into the open.
"Halt, who goes there?"
Mark looked up at the guard who had challenged him. The fort would be a problem. It was a fourty-foot tall wall of scrap steel and concrete built on a low hill. Guns were sticking out of numerous holes, and all were pointed at him.
"I am the Minuteman, and you have in there something I want. I will give you this one chance to surrender, and then I will blow you all to hell."
A single shot rang out from atop the walls, like the crack of a whip. It was answered by a thunderclap from the rocks behind the Minuteman.
As the sniper's headless body plunged from the parapets, Mark pulled the flattened slug off his forehead. "I guess," he said, crushing the metal between his fingers and drawing his gun, "That's a no."
