You know it's going to be a bad morning, Sano thought in a pre-caf haze, when the first thing you do is almost trample the doc. He blinked at late-morning sunlight, trying to clear out the fuzziness. "Gensai-isha?"
"Botheration… samurai idiocy…." Rifling through his black bag, the older man frowned at him, made a shooing motion down the corridor toward the main room. "I believe they left you some breakfast out on a tray."
Ah. Food.
Food with a very foxy lady accompanying it; Sanosuke yawned and grinned as he snatched up raisin-decked grain-balls, munching and staring at the curves of a green-and-sun-gold kimono until his mind caught up with his no longer empty stomach. Um… oops?
But no bokken crashed down on his head. Megumi only narrowed her eyes at him, and sniffed, looking away as if he were no more important than a fluff-chick pecking at spilled seeds.
Ow.
For a second Sano frowned, considering how he could escalate the situation. Nobody turned up their nose at him and got away with it. Especially somebody who not only hadn't paid her own passage, but had gotten him, Katsu, and Kaoru dumped in an asteroid belt's worth of trouble.
Yeah? And what if she hadn't been on that last run, tough guy? his conscience snarked. Save Katsu or save the run; either way, you would've been screwed but good.
Okay, okay. So she deserved a little leeway. Just a little. "Come up with anything else for your wish list, Megitsune?"
"Don't call me that, Rooster-head." Her gaze dropped to her tea. "It's a pipe dream, anyway. I'd never live long enough to get back on the Sekihoutai."
"Hey!" Sano thumped his chest. "Who do you think you're talking to, here?"
"Smuggling cargo from one planet to another is a lot different from smuggling a person to a spaceport," Megumi said tartly.
Sano smirked. "Not when you've got samurai to help."
That suddenly, the young doctor looked lost. "He'd do that?"
"Kenshin? I don't know," Sanosuke said frankly, snagging another grain-ball. He glanced at his wrist-chrono in passing, and made a mental note of the time; still a bit to spare. Good. Katsu would get six kinds of prickly if he missed his com-link check-in. "Kaoru, though - maybe. Just maybe." He tossed Megumi a wry grin. "Just, say, if there happens to be an Imperial warrant out there with your name on it, it'd go a lot easier if you didn't mention it to her. She's kind of fussy on what laws she breaks." And she says it's easier to pull a mind-trick if people aren't wound up in hunting down somebody on Security's Top Ten List.
Considering the circumstances, he'd drop his pride and go for easier. A much younger Sano had seen some of Captain Sagara's attempts at pulling mind tricks off - one of which had landed that long-ago Rebel in a bacta tank for days.
"I can go about my business? Your business is my business, laserbrain."
Oh yeah. Not fun. Granted, Kaoru had a lot more power than Captain Sagara; from little bits Sano had picked up from Gensai on ki and midi-chlorian counts, the captain had barely squeaked past the baseline level for full training, while Kaoru fell solidly into the upper range. But still, the easier, the better.
"No," Megumi said, almost soundlessly. "There's no warrant." She flinched. "But-"
"But, they think you're dead," Sano said plainly. "I grant you, given their twisty ninja minds they might not believe you were dead until they scattered the pieces, but look at where we are." He waved a hand around, indicating the whole compound. "One raid like that - yeah, sure, Kanryuu's nasty enough to get away with it. Two? On a traditional dojo? Maybe nobody out there's got the guts to stand up to the bastard face to face, but put together, a whole crowd of people who decide to drag their heels a little can do a heck of a lot of damage. He's not going to blast into this place again without a good reason." The pilot cracked his knuckles. "So. Given once we get you to the Sekihoutai we might have to pull some quick tricks to get you back from there, make a list. What do you need to make shipboard living complete-" He stopped, brain finally awake enough to add morning, Gensai, and medical kit. "Wait a second. If you're here - why the heck did Jou-chan call in the doc?"
---------------
Obi-Wan suppressed a flinch as soothing cool wrapped hot cuts. "I appreciate the house call."
"Hmm. Well, it wouldn't have been wise to walk through the streets with these wounds." Gensai taped the right-hand poultice into place, watched his patient flex his fingers before he began taping the left hand. "Samurai may be allowed to wear lightsabers, but that doesn't mean Security has to like it."
It may not be bacta, but stars, that feels better. Gensai had looked him over quickly, chased Kaoru out, then used a more thorough examination to give his patient an impromptu lesson in local herbal medicines. Apparently with a few other herbs soaked into it, the ruby-dotted amber seaweed yawara-kai was amazingly specific for lightsaber wounds. And the very fact that they know that says rather more about the history of combat on this planet than I think I ever wanted to know. "You haven't asked how this happened," the Jedi ventured carefully.
"Given the shock on Kaoru's face when she burst in on me, you weren't practicing the blade-catch with her or her apprentice," Gensai said dryly. "Given Himura-san is out chopping firewood and making weeds flee in terror, he doesn't even know you're injured. And given the dojo itself is still standing, this was not another ninja attack. Meaning this most likely falls into… well, parts of samurai life the rest of us can only watch from the sidelines." He raised a graying brow. "Did you want to talk about it?"
Obi-Wan hesitated. "People with my training don't dream."
"But you do have visions." Setting his kit aside, Gensai knelt down by him. "Of the future-"
"And the past." Obi-Wan flexed his hands, hiding a wince at the tug of cut skin. They weren't very deep cuts; Gensai was of the opinion they wouldn't even scar. But that they'd happened at all…. "Yet - this wasn't my past."
---------------
Darkness. Darkness in Kyoto.
Not physical darkness; though crackling thunder and rain drew that down as well, whipping ice-water into his eyes until he gave up and closed them, jumping from roof to roof blind.
Well - blind as ordinary folk knew it.
To ki-sense the world was aflame with color and light; there small lives, there larger, here the soft swirls of blowing wind, here the firm solidity of rain-washed tile. He ran as confidently through storm-wracked rooftops as ordinary sentients would through a sunlit field, anticipating each gust of wind, knowing what footing would and would not hold. Gale and rain and lightning would not fell him, could not fell him; he was the storm and the roofs and the empty air between them.
But he was also a small, frail creation of heart and bone and wind-soaked hair, and rain dripped fear and grief through his clothes like acid.
She can't have Fallen. She can't have!
Yet that tornado of Darkness howled Ulloriaq's ki-signature to the four winds, laughing as it mowed down friends and enemies, the armed and unarmed alike. Gorging on fear and hatred, slurping death and destruction like a drunkard at fine wine-
Clarity flashed in the night. The bright, hard-edged shadow that was Okita's ki-signature; frail as obsidian, like the squad leader's failing health, but still sharp enough to cut to the bone.
No! Sou, no! He reached for the Shinsengumi, as he'd never reached for any of the Miburou in his role as hitokiri. :Sou, get away! She'll kill you!:
:She's killing everyone.: The blood-rage was there, the fury that had earned Souji the name Demon-child, yet within it was… peace. :I can hold her here. Just for a little while.:
:Sou-:
:Promise me you'll try not to kill Saitou tonight? He won't get here in time….:
He felt the fight start, darkness against shadow like ice in his veins. Felt it and ran, fast as ki and muscle could carry him, sensing how the fight flowed, snarled, struck-
Sou. No.
He stopped, gasping, on a rooftop above carnage. Stricken eyes saw streets washed red with blood, fires flickering from fallen lanterns, large and small bodies sliced in two or shattered by flung tiles and roof-beams.
Anything, rather than that emerald blade sliding clear of Okita's heart.
"Ulloriaq!"
Red eyes aglow with hate, the Jedi glanced up. "You." She cast Okita aside, and sneered. "I should have known this world would save its most perverted soul for last."
What is she saying? What is she doing? "Watchman, please," he breathed. "By the teachings we both share-"
"Share?" Lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl more hateful than any Miburou's. "I share nothing with the Sith!"
What? He shook his head, wet tail of hair slapping against his shoulder in the wind. This can't be happening. "Has rage so blinded you?" He didn't want to look; didn't have to, only pointed to the scream of grief and terror still echoing though ki. "Children, Ulloriaq! You've killed children!"
"You killed them!" she screamed back. "You twisted their minds; tainted them with Darkness! Every soul born to the Force on this cursed planet; every child who should have been saved, been Jedi-"
Ki didn't warn him. The darkness was everywhere, choking hope, and all he had was merely mortal senses of tear-hot eyes and grief-numb ears-
Amber caught emerald, widening her eyes.
You are a Master, Ulloriaq - and we both know I am not.
Clash of blades. Ki swirled and fought around them, blue clay slicing and smashing and turning to slick mud underfoot.
You are within the Darkness, and it clouds everything.
He gave himself to the chill fury of his lightsaber, the whirlwind of shadow that was the heart and soul of his master's teachings.
But I have fought in the Forest of Barriers, where only ninja are meant to survive….
And if you go through me… Shishou will be next.
"I trusted you! You and your damned master! I believed you when you said you meant no harm - that you didn't know the vows of Jedi forbid the foul attachments of this world! I listened to you - listened to Sith! - when you said it was love that kept parents from releasing children to their destiny!" A flurry of blows; he felt wind bite deeper, through tiny slashes seared into his uniform. "But I know what you are, now…."
You know nothing. A plan, he needed a plan; she was good, as only one trained to the sword from birth could be. And he - he was bereft, orphaned by his own raw choices, and sick to death of war.
"I trusted you."
Lightning flashed; he cringed from the withered ruin of her face. How had the Dark sunk its claws so deeply? Five years, since I left… but there's something more at work here. There has to be.
"And this is how you would repay the Republic?" she hissed. "By joining with the Separatists?"
What? But Katsura would never- He twisted, ducking a swipe meant for his head. Don't think! Just fight!
"Traitors! Murderers! Users of Darkness!" Her hand strangled the storm; he sensed the thunderclap of ki, a breath before clay missiles shredded the wind. "None of you deserve our protection!"
I am not Sith.
But neither am I Jedi.
And you've forgotten much, Ulloriaq, if you don't remember that Shishou and I don't fight from the ground-
His blow was parried, flung aside with a crow of laughter. Emerald bit his right arm - the kote caught most of it, but-
No!
Lose your blade, lose your life. Shishou had drilled that into him, bone-deep. And with the Darkness so thick, he couldn't feel the 'saber fast enough to call it back.
"Pray, if you can." A mocking whisper, as what had been Ulloriaq inched closer. "I would not violate your world's… beliefs."
And with that breath, he knew.
It wasn't a plan. Barely even a hope, from the comforting shadows of his soul. Only a pulse in the ki about him, steady and fragile as his own heart.
Enchained in peace, there is passion,
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
Peace to strength to freedom to strength drained away into peace. The heartbeat of the universe, of the world, of the tornado of Darkness that hungered to devour him. Of even one lost, war-sick swordsman willing to make an end, here and now….
One with the pulse of the universe, he felt within the Dark-sickened heart beside him, and mourned. She was ill, not evil; consumed, as by a cancer, eating away the core of her soul.
I cannot heal her. I can only….
She was not a friend. Not an enemy. Only another heart, dragged out of rhythm by the death-spiral of Darkness.
A heart out of rhythm. A sick heart. A-
"And now, this benighted world will see that even demons die."
A healthy heartbeat cannot be predicted.
A sick heart can.
He knew how the blade would move before it did; knew how to catch it, and what it might cost-
The pain in his hands was nothing to the pain in his heart.
One bleeding hand drew his wakizashi, and it was over.
Okita.
"Stay back! How dare you-"
He glared the other Shinsengumi back, too sick of heart to even consider killing them. There was so much blood here already.
"You came. I knew you would. My friends..."
He barely saw Saitou holding Okita's failing form. "Sou…."
"You look so sad, Red... please smile. Just once, for me?" The dying captain wore his own, faint smile, as if the universe had revealed one last, beautiful riddle.
He tried. He did. Kami, it hurt. :I'm sorry… you deserve to live, more than any of us….:
:The demon-child? Who's always loved the kill, more than anything or anyone? No… I made my choice long ago. At least this way… it's not your fault….: "You know I never wanted to... die in bed..."
Ki slid into shadow, and he was gone.
---------------
"And then I woke," Obi-Wan said evenly. "Bleeding."
"Hmm." Gensai shrugged. "This sounds more a tale for young Kaoru than an old doctor like me."
"I think you know why it isn't."
Mild as milk, Gensai raised a gray brow. "Do I?"
A wry smile touched the Jedi's face. So you know better than to lie to me. Well. This will be interesting. "If Kaoru knew the Hitokiri Battousai was here, in Tokyo, she might feel duty-bound to hunt him down. As she did Hiruma Gohei."
"I suppose she might," Gensai allowed. "But why in the worlds would the government's most feared assassin be here, in Tokyo, the very heart of their power? I'd think it'd make far more sense for them to send him after Saigo. Or after… other persons who pose a more subtle danger to the Empire."
Oh, well played. "It would," Obi-Wan agreed, "if he were still the government's assassin."
Gensai raised the other brow.
"I've met more than my share of hired killers, I assure you. The myth is as important as the man. If not more so," Obi-Wan said half to himself, recalling how the role of the Jedi had changed so drastically through the Clone Wars; from half-mythical peacekeepers and negotiators to the durasteel fist in the Senate's silken glove. Another desecration we may lay at Palpatine's door. And… the Council's as well, I fear. "That Gohei was allowed to continue his charade so long as he did tells me the government does not have Battousai in its service." Obi-Wan gave Gensai a level look. "Though someone in its more dark and rarified levels may have hoped to lure him there, by allowing slaughter under that name."
Gensai blanched.
Ah. Then I am right. "But the man my vision showed me would not fly to such a lure," Obi-Wan said softly. "He may have been shadowed, and deadly as a blaster to the heart… but there was no love of slaughter in him. Rumor, Yamagata's search, whatever crimes or bounties may have been laid on his head - I may not know how Yamato reads these signs, but to me, all say he has stopped killing."
Gensai was still.
"Yet no one so steeped in ki could abandon it completely," Obi-Wan went on. "He breathes it like air. He must be using it somehow. Perhaps, to work a healing no other samurai in Tokyo could even imagine?"
Creaking to his feet, the doctor gave him a skeptical snort. "Really! I'm a doctor, young man. I wouldn't allow a murderer near my patients."
"You wouldn't," Obi-Wan agreed, rising to match him. "But you are a very good doctor. If a killer - and I do say killer, not murderer - held the key to saving a life, I do not think you would hesitate to call on him." The Jedi gave him a narrow look. "Nor to hide his presence from a young and eager Jedi, whom we both know would be hard-pressed to match such a fighter blow for blow, even if age and the Dark Side has bitten at him."
At that, Gensai smiled. "Believe what you like, Kenobi-san. I assure you, I'm not hiding anyone."
He's - telling the truth?
Obi-Wan frowned, opening his mouth to speak - there were a number of interrogation techniques he could put to use, without even a touch of the Force to back them-
The screen slammed back before Gensai could touch it. "Oi!" Sano glared at both of them impartially. "Where the hell is Katsu!"
---------------
I love the sound of arming detonators in the morning. Katsu wiped sweat off his brow as he set the last charge, glancing back toward the partly open side door he'd used to get into this out-of-the-way warehouse near the richer edge of Tokyo, where a certain overly-muscled, wild-eyed samurai should have stood reluctant guard.
Not there. Terrific.
I've flown with worse wingmen than Isurugi Raijuuta, Katsu told himself dryly, waiting for a wave of fever-dizziness to pass. Just not often.
He'd fought sick before; blaster-burned, or burning with fever and shaking with chills, to the point he couldn't even focus to read the diagrams of the security system he was supposed to be disarming. This was nothing. Just a few aftereffects from the Miasma breaking loose and being flat on his back a few days. Another day of rest, and he'd probably have been in the clear completely.
But another day, and Kanryuu would have moved this stock of chemical nastiness, and Katsu wouldn't have gotten the chance to play with things that went boom. And what would be the fun in that?
If this stuff really does what Saigo's people say it does… bad enough the Empire has a grip on the information people get going into the Imperial Academy. Stuff that'll let the instructors get a stranglehold on their minds and ki on top of that - brr.
Damned if it didn't make sense, though. Older Security types like Inspector Uramura seemed okay, but over the past year or so, some of the new ones, in the Security Sword Corps… well, zealous wasn't the word. Like that rabid idiot Ujiki, last month, who'd threatened to execute a whole crowd before Kaoru and Sano got the drop on him. Katsu still got shivers thinking about how fast Kaoru had beaten him down, while Sano held off the reinforcements. And even more shivers when he remembered the grim set to her jaw as she told a concussed Ujiki he had not seen them….
Sano wonders why I don't just ask her to join our crew. But I don't care what Captain Sagara said, Katsuhiro thought darkly. There's no way using ki like that is natural.
Not that the way Raijuuta used it was much better, steeped in cruel arrogance about building an undefeatable league of samurai. Joining Saigo's forces was just one step on his path; he'd made that abundantly clear.
Still, you can't knock that Izuna of his. Cuts right through-
The faintest whisper of that air-splitting blow reached Katsu's ears, followed by silence.
Raijuuta was never silent.
Swallowing dryly, Katsu reached to change the timing on his charge-
Felt his hand caught, as if air had suddenly turned to duracrete.
"Tsukioka Katsuhiro."
He couldn't move. Couldn't run. Couldn't even look toward the quiet beeps as unseen hands disarmed his carefully-placed charges. I'm dead.
"Copilot of the Sekihoutai. Smuggler. Explosives expert." Soundless footfalls; only the soft movement of air over a white trenchcoat warned Katsu as a tall, dark-haired man moved into view. "More widely if less well known as Tsunan, Rebel sympathizer and publisher of the Meiji Inter-world Dispatch."
I'm worse than dead.
Green eyes gleamed, like emerald ice. "The Oniwabanshuu are efficient, not cruel. You will be allowed to die… later."
