So, I got my second idea for a vignette. This one is centered around Team Ikari, but in particular Heidern and Leona. One of the criticisms I had with "KoF: Destiny" was that Leona was missing from this season. SNK is currently working on a second season, and since the series as a whole is an adaptation of the Orochi saga, I'm hoping that means Leona will appear in Season Two (especially since the end of Season One teased us with Iori). So I came up with this idea as a possible explanation for why Leona was absent. It takes place either during or shortly after Episode 1.
All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the web series.
Episode 1 ½ – Somewhere in the jungles of Brazil...
Commander Heidern sat grim-faced behind his desk, his eye fixed on the well-built man with long brown hair standing at attention on the other side. Behind the commander was a bank of monitors showing news reports and satellite feeds, their glare providing the only light in the office. The rest of the room was Spartan in its design and decoration. Unlike most officers, who might bedeck their walls with photographs, or plaques and medals showing the accomplishments of their careers, Heidern's walls were left blank on purpose.
"There were no survivors?" Heidern asked his subordinate, raising a gloved hand to indicate one of the satellite monitors behind him, which showed several military trucks stopped dead on a mountain road. Surrounding them were the bodies of men who had been assigned to the convoy, all of them wiped out by whoever had attacked. The convoy had been ransacked less than twenty-four hours prior.
Ralf Jones shook his head. "None, sir. And whoever it was made off with the entire cargo."
"Whoever it was," Heidern repeated, trying his best to keep the irony from his voice. "I think we both know exactly who's responsible."
"Sir," Ralf said with a nod. "The question is: what does he plan to do with it?"
"I have some ideas," Heidern answered, his face grim. He picked up a remote from the surface of his desk, aimed it at one of the monitors behind them, and pressed a button. The image on the monitor changed to something that looked like a blueprint. The object it was centered around appeared to be an ordinary generator, except for the black dragons welded onto it that made it look like a cross between modern technology and a medieval torture device.
"Some of our sources found out that this device was recently acquired on the black market by the Howard Commission in South Town," Heidern said to Ralf. "I've only seen one other person use tech like this, and I remember what he used it for."
Ralf had seen this look on his commander's face before, and of course, he couldn't help but notice the way Heidern lightly brushed his fingertips over the patch that covered his right eye. Against his better judgment, Ralf asked his superior: "Rugal Bernstein?"
Heidern nodded once. "People like us can't believe in coincidences," he said. "Which is why I also don't think that it's just random circumstance that the morning after that convoy was robbed of its Black Crystals, this showed up at our doorstep." He picked up an envelope off the desk, and held it out to Ralf, who took it and looked it over warily.
The envelope was thick and glossy, like the type an invitation would come in, and had been sealed with red wax. The seal was a very simple one, an indentation of the letter R.
"Impressive that it found its way here, since we don't have a mailbox and no one outside of our unit is supposed to know this base exists," Heidern told him. "Feel free to take the card out and read it. It's safe, we didn't detect any traps on it. "
Heidern had slit open the top of the envelope in order to leave the wax seal intact, so Ralf reached in and pulled out the card inside, which had the following message in ornate script:
You are cordially invited to participate in the King of Fighters tournament
We expect this year to be much more exciting than the previous years, as the rules have changed.
Combatants are now invited to form teams of three people, which should make the competition even deadlier than ever, and therefore much more exciting!
The tournament is scheduled to take place in South Town, USA, starting on August 1st. Any team wishing to participate must sign up in person at Geese Tower before the end of the day on July 31st. We hope to see you there.
May the best team win!
Ralf said nothing. He simply slipped the card back in the envelope and dropped it back on Heidern's desk. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next, but chose to wait for his commander to tell him.
"You, me, and Clark will be entering," Heidern told him, confirming Ralf's suspicions. "Of course, that's just a cover. We'll be leaving for South Town tomorrow, so we'll have plenty of time to set up an ops base and gather some intel before the tournament starts. Our true purpose will be to find out what Geese and Rugal are up to, and put a stop to it."
Ralf nodded in understanding, but Heidern had seen that look on his subordinate's face before. After a moment, Ralf said: "Permission to speak freely?"
"Depends what you want to speak about," Heidern answered.
"With all due respect, sir, I think you know."
The commander gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. "Permission granted," he spoke in a weary voice.
"Thank you, sir," Ralf said with a nod, then he went on: "I just don't see why you're still not letting her into the tournament. You always taught us that personal feelings can never come before what's best for the mission, and I feel that what's best is to let her enter in place of either myself or Clark. You keep saying she isn't ready, but she's definitely not a child anymore. You've seen the progress reports for her training. No one in the base has beaten her in practice combat in over a year. Hell, I stopped pulling my punches a long time ago, and she still wipes the floor with me every time we spar. If she's not ready now, when is she going to be?"
Heidern's fingertips once again went to the patch over his right eye. He was silent for a long time. Then he answered: "I'll consider what you've told me. In the meantime, though, your orders still stand. We depart for South Town tomorrow at oh-seven-hundred. You and Clark be ready. Dismissed!"
"Yes, sir!" Ralf clapped his heels together and saluted. Heidern rose from his chair and returned the salute, after which Ralf left his office. Heidern did not sit back down. Instead, he moved over to the only decoration on his wall: a picture of a young girl with long, blue hair tied back in a ponytail, standing rigid in her pressed dress uniform, her expression perfectly neutral.
That picture had been taken a few years ago. Leona was now a grown woman, and yet, when he looked at her, Heidern could sometimes still see the little girl he'd found wandering in the jungle all those years ago, alone, shivering, and half-naked, with most of her clothing burned off.
Heidern had taken her in and raised her like she was his own blood, but there were still several things that gnawed at his mind, even now. For one, when he'd found her, her hair had been a light shade of purple, and though she didn't appear to be using any dye, the red in it mysteriously faded away to a darker shade of blue over the next few days. Also, whatever had burned her clothes had somehow left her skin and hair intact and un-scarred. Not to mention that she had no memory of her past, and years of psychotherapy had done nothing to jog those missing memories.
Heidern was grateful, however, that the therapy had helped her nightmares. Those first few weeks, she had woken up screaming several times, babbling about a sky tinted with red, seeing her hands caked in blood, and the bodies of dead or dying people flying through the air all around her like autumn leaves in a cold, stiff wind. For years, the psychotherapy treatments had repressed those nightmares, but lately... the reports Heidern received from the guards on graveyard shift said that Leona was not sleeping as much as she had used to, and would be up long before sunrise to practice in the gym, or go jogging through the forest outside.
If she's not ready now, when is she going to be? Ralf's words echoed in his mind. "Soon," he whispered to himself. "But not for this mission. Not where Rugal is involved." He turned away from the picture and left his office, locking the door behind him.
In the spacious gymnasium of the base, a tall, well-muscled man with short blond hair dressed in black cargo pants, a skintight black shirt, and sunglasses leaned against one of the padded walls with a stopwatch in hand. "Whenever you're ready," Clark Still called to the girl with the blue-haired ponytail, who stood balanced on the far end of a raised wooden beam that ran most of the room's length.
Leona Heidern took in a deep, calming breath, and cracked her knuckles, the noise still loud enough to be satisfying, even through the thick black leather of her custom-made gloves. The olive-green sports bra she wore showed off her fighters build, the muscles in her arms and midriff toned through years of training. Despite the fact that the room was a little chilly, and the only other clothing she wore in addition to her bra were a pair of brown combat boots and black sweatpants, Leona still felt a few beads of sweat breaking out on the small of her back.
This can't be jitters, she thought to herself. I've run this course so many times I could do it blindfolded, if I could just talk dad into letting me try it.
Commander Heidern... that was likely the source of her anxiety. Lately, she got the sense that her adoptive father was keeping something from her regarding the upcoming King of Fighters tournament. She knew about the mysterious invitation that had showed up at their door, if she knew Ralf half as well as she thought, he'd already mentioned to Heidern that Leona should go to the tournament in his or Clark's place. But the commander was hesitant, and whatever was causing it, it seemed like much more than paternal concern.
The commander should be immune to such things, anyway. On the first day of her training, Heidern had made it clear to her that their relationship inside of the unit was the opposite of their relationship outside. Outside, they were father and daughter, but inside, he was team commander, and she his subordinate. She'd always abided by this, and Heidern knew from her progress reports that Leona could take care of herself in a fight, could follow orders to the letter, without any hesitation. Yet, something still made him hold her back.
Don't think about that now. Now, there is only you and the course. Leona exhaled again, expelling all worry and concern from her body along with the breath. "Begin!" She snapped at Clark. At the same time he pressed the green button on top of the watch, Leona had started forward across the beam in a brisk jog, her balance precise and perfect, every sense razor-fine.
The first attack came suddenly, from the left. The gym mat on the wall seemed to detach and fly towards her. Leona did a back flip to avoid it, feeling the rush of air as the mat soared past her, and landed gracefully back on the beam, balancing on one foot. A few moments before she had landed, a pair of metallic tentacles had started to rise from the ground on either side of her, their barbed tips charged with electricity. The tentacle on the left lashed out at her, and Leona, still balanced on one foot, pivoted her body to avoid it. After the charged part of the tentacle had lunged past her, Leona grabbed its midsection, and thrust it towards the other tentacle, which was also lunging towards her. Their charged tips contacted one another, canceling each other out, and both appendages dropped limply to the floor.
Leona did not see them fall, as she was already continuing to press forward across the beam. She'd only gone a few paces when the next trap seemed to come from nowhere: a heavy wooden beam suspended by cables dropped from the ceiling and swung towards her, threatening to strike her right in the stomach. Leona went into a crouch, expertly positioning her right foot forward, while her left remained tucked underneath her, and used her momentum to slide, feeling the crossbar pass over her head.
Then it was the electrified tentacles again: four of them this time, seeking to box her in. Leona stopped herself in mid-slide, by reaching behind her to grip the beam in her gloved hand. She paused for a split second, letting them get closer, then she suddenly sprang up into a forward somersault kick. The sole of her boot connected with the tip of the tentacle that was coming straight at her, the heavy rubber absorbing the electrical charge. The tip of the tentacle crumpled like tissue paper, and it dropped lifelessly to the gym floor.
Three to go, she thought as she landed back on the balance beam, watching the other tentacles from the corners of her icy blue eyes. The probes all lunged at the same time, two going low and one going high, but Leona had already started to cartwheel back the way she had come, so they only hit air. The crossbar she had originally ducked was now swinging back towards her, and Leona jumped up and landed on it, balancing herself like a surfer as she rode it back towards the robotic tentacles.
One of the tentacles was too slow to avoid it. The heavy wooden beam slammed into it, taking it out. As Leona passed by them, she expertly kicked out with one leg, snapping another tentacle cleanly in half.
And then there was one. Leona jumped off the crossbar and landed back on the balance beam. The last tentacle waved precariously a few yards ahead of her, not daring to move forward just yet. Leona knew from experience that their CPU in each of them had the ability to learn from the mistakes of the others. After seeing what Leona had done to the first three, this tentacle was therefore a bit more cautious.
Leona reached up to her left ear, pulled off the earring that was held in place against her lobe by a magnetic stud. A small blue gem was set into the earring's center, and Leona held her thumb just over it as she started to run forward again. After a few paces, she pressed down on the gem and started to silently count backwards from three.
The tentacle lunged at her as she reached "one," and Leona did a forward flip to avoid it. In the middle of her flip, she tossed the earring downwards at the body of the tentacle, saw it take hold (courtesy of the magnet). After landing back on the beam, Leona continued forward without looking back. She heard the small explosion a split second later as the earring detonated, blowing the last tentacle in half.
From there, the rest was cake. She had learned after her third attempt on the course which sections of the beam were holograms, and expertly jumped them, while also avoiding the other mats that tried to detach themselves from the wall and knock her to the ground. She could have used her fists on the last drone, but she was trying for a speed record today, so instead she used her other earring to blow it up. In no time flat, she had reached the end of the course, jumped off the beam, and started making her way back towards Clark.
The blond man gave a low whistle as he looked at the stopwatch. "I think you may have just broken the commander's old record, Leona," he told her.
"We'll see," a gruff voice spoke from the entrance to the training room. Both Leona and Clark turned to the door and went rigid, standing at perfect attention as Heidern entered. "At ease," he said with a casual wave of his hand, and then made his way over to them. Once there, his eye glanced over at the face of the watch in Clark's hand. "Two seconds off," he told Leona. "But still, a very impressive run."
Leona saluted. "Sir, thank you, sir!"
Heidern returned the salute, and then asked her: "I'm sure by now you've heard about the upcoming tournament?" It was not a question. He already knew without looking at any surveillance that his adopted daughter had snuck into his office and read the invitation.
Leona knew it was not a question, but she simply gave a short nod. Heidern then asked her: "Are you ready to serve your team?"
Though her expression was neutral, as always, inside Leona allowed just the smallest shimmer of hope to swell up in her heart. "Whatever you need from me, commander."
"Excellent," Heidern said. He pulled a manila folder out from inside his jacket, and handed it to her. Leona accepted it, opened the top flap, and then examined its contents: aerial photographs of what appeared to be an industrial facility, fake passport, plane ticket to Singapore...
Singapore? Leona paused in her review of the file. I thought the tournament was in America.
"Rugal Bernstein's Asian operations have been a little quiet over the last six months," Heidern explained. "Too quiet. I suspect that might be a cover. You're to head there, see if any Black Crystals have recently been moved to that facility, and if so, neutralize the threat."
Leona's expression was still neutral, but Clark had seen that cold light in her eyes before. He was standing behind the commander, so Heidern did not notice when Clark took a step backwards. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" Leona asked.
Heidern gave her a nod.
"This sounds like a wild goose chase. Every piece of intel I've looked at regarding the convoy heist says that whatever Rugal is going to be using the Crystals for, it will involve the KoF tournament. And even if he were moving any Crystals to Asia, I don't think his Singapore base would be the place he'd move them to. Those factories are just part a shell company for the legitimate face of his business."
"Leona, you have your orders," Heidern told her firmly. Behind him, Clark was silent. Though they were on duty, he looked upon this as a family squabble, otherwise he would have taken Leona's side.
"And I'll follow them, commander," Leona said. "But since I have permission to speak freely, I'm telling you that I feel this assignment is a waste of my abilities. Everyone else here seems to think I'm ready for the tournament. Why don't you?"
Heidern raised this hand. "We'll discuss this another time," he said, but with a weariness to his voice that Leona was not used to hearing there. Once again, Heidern found himself brushing his fingertips over the patch on his eye. He'd read about the phenomenon called "phantom limb pain," how soldiers who'd lost an arm or a leg in combat could sometimes still feel sensation where there should be none, as if they'd never lost the limb. He believed those reports, since he experienced something similar with his right eye.
Though the eye was gone, Heidern swore that he sometimes still saw images through the empty socket, the last images it had ever seen before Rugal removed it: his men slaughtered all around him, along with his wife and family, Rugal standing over him, drenched in their blood, his mouth twisted up into a grinning, demonic mask bathed in firelight as his hand extended, claw-like, towards Heidern's face...
Leona noticed the lapse in his composure, and softly cleared her throat. "Everything okay, d...commander?" Inwardly, she cursed herself for almost having that slip of the tongue. She'd learned at a young age only to call him "dad" in private, and even then only when they were both off-duty.
Just like that, the lapse was gone and the stony visage of her commander was restored. "Everything is fine," he said crisply. "Any questions about the assignment?"
Plenty of questions, old man, Leona thought to herself. And none of them about the assignment. But I know from experience you won't answer them. She shook her head. "No, sir. None."
"Very well, then. You have your orders. Be ready to ship out at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow!"
Leona stood up straighter and saluted. "Sir, yes, sir!"
Heidern returned the salute, then turned and walked out of the training room.
Both Leona and Clark were silent for a moment after he left. There were things Clark wanted to say, but he had learned the hard way how much Leona hated pity. So he simply said: "Excellent effort today as always, Leona, but since we both have missions to prepare for, I think we should wrap it up. Go hit the showers."
"Yes, sir!" Leona saluted him, and after Clark returned the salute, she asked: "Permission to speak freely?"
Clark nodded at her. "Granted."
"Thank you," Leona told him. "For not saying anything else."
Clark couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Anytime, soldier. Good luck tomorrow."
"You too," Leona said, then turned and started walking in the direction the women's locker rooms. Heidern was definitely keeping something from her, but in truth, she was keeping things from him, as well.
For the first time since she was a little girl, Leona had been having nightmares again. She started in a featureless room, and kept walking until she came to a mirror. She saw her reflection in the mirror, her long hair undone from its ponytail, its color a bright, fiery red instead of blue. This same red also filled the irises of her eyes. Then there was a bright flash, a clap of thunder, and suddenly she was standing in what appeared to be a village. Flashes of lightning ripped through the crimson sky over her head. By the light of those flashes, she could seethe bodies of dead or dying people surrounding her on all sides, as far as she could see, cut down like stalks of reaped grain. Their blood painted the ground the same color as the sky. "This is who you truly are, girl," she then heard a voice whisper. "All you have to do is KILL."
Then she would awaken. She had resolved to tell Heidern about this, but after the conversation she'd just had with him, she decided against it. The dreams weren't affecting her training in any way, she saw no reason to think they'd affect her performance on the field. This assignment was pointless busy work, anyway.
You won't be open with me, dad, she thought to herself as she entered the locker room, grabbed a towel and slung it over her shoulder, so I see no reason to tell you about this. I'll do my duty, like a good soldier, but somehow, I am going to find out the truth...
ADDITIONAL NOTE: Special thanks to Hellsink Bathhall. Our PM chat is what gave me the idea for this one. Hope it was to your liking!
As always, if anyone has a character or team they'd like me to do one of these for, please PM or tell me in a review. Until next time!