War
A Kim Possible Fanfiction
immo
Author's note: Started a new job, so that's taking up a lot of my time. Here's WAR for all of you out there :D It's a bit boring, but it moves the story along.
"Okay, try again." Dr. Lipsky said excitedly.
"How long do I have to keep doing this?" Abbot Ho Nam asked in Chinese. Except, through the translator Dr. Lipsky had set up, it translated Ho Nam's Chinese into English, perfectly. Having nothing to do, Ho Nam, with the help of Wade had set up a translator that they all needed. Wade provided the programming while Dr. Lipsky set up the hardware. Between the two of them, it had taken less than a couple of hours to do. And they had the perfect volunteer for the job since Abbot Ho Nam was currently incapacitated and bored enough to go through the tests with them. The Abbot was nowhere near 100% yet, but the translating work required very little from its volunteer.
"See, the hardware can filter through the accents people have, but I was hoping we could speed up the translating a bit. There's still a bit of a lag." Dr. Lipsky spoke to Wade through the Kimmunicator. After leaving She Cun, all their communications devices had come back on line, meaning Wade was back in touch. Right now the blue scientist and the young genius weren't needed--they had gone over Kim's plan beforehand and were now just waiting for the time to implement it--so they decided to keep busy to keep their minds off their captive friends.
"Their dialect is really difficult to map," Wade explained, typing away furiously at his computer. "I'm talking to one of my friends, she's a linguist specializing in Asian languages, and she's working as fast as she could to help me with this."
"Okay, well," Dr. Lipsky looked at Ho Nam kindly. "We can take a break now. Kick up your feet. Or, maybe not. Take it easy... yo."
"Alright." Ho Nam sighed and relaxed a bit, groaning as his stitches pulled at his slightest movements. "Ow."
Ho Nam had escaped with a deep chest wound that effectively took him completely out of action. Though still bedridden and in no condition to get up and start doing anything strenuous like walking, he was still antsy. Sitting on the sidelines wasn't what he was used to doing, so he had volunteered to help Dr. Lipsky and Wade with their translator testing.
"Do you want some choco-moo-moo?" Dr. Lipsky tried to be helpful. "I can whip some up in no time--"
"Thank you, but I can barely manage water." Ho Nam smiled tiredly. "My stomach is not agreeing with me."
Dr. Lipsky nodded, looking around the abbot's room curiously. It was pretty spartan, just the canopied bed, an ornate table with matching chairs, and various decorations. One in particular caught the cerulean man's attention.
"Hey, that's a pretty nice sword." Dr. Lipsky was no weapons' specialist, but the sword hanging near Nam Ho's bed was indeed, quite nice. The blade was hidden in a sheath that seemed like it had been lovingly tooled over; a work of a master. Dragons danced all along the burnished bronze and wood sheath, their scales somehow standing out green, red-clawed and white-eyed. The hilt was made of wood, a knife cutting grooves for a better grip, grooves that circled upwards towards the bronze pommel that had what suspiciously looked like a large, dusty ruby embedded in the bronze. The guard was also loving manufactured from bronze, molded and shaped into a bat with its wings spread out to block any attack from loping off fingers.
"Its been in the monastary forever." Abbot Nam Ho nodded at the weapon. "But don't touch it. It's ancient. How do you Americans say it... 'you break it you buy it'?"
"Ah, wouldn't want to do that." Dr. Lipsky chuckled nervously.
Nam Ho nodded, now a little bit uncomfortable with an outsider seeing the weapon. His master had told him, when he took on the abbot's responsibilities, that the weapon could be used to obliterate the wielder's enemies, powerful enough to level armies; and for that reason, it was placed with the Abbot of the monastary at all times. Previous attempts at stealing things from the monastary had lead to a wily abbot of the past to put the sword in plain sight. Things were easily hidden in plain sight, the abbot had wisely thought long time ago. As the sword was still in the monastary's possession, that plan had worked out QUITE well.
'Do not ever unsheath the sword, unless you have no other choice. There are consequences to using this sword, or at least that's what MY master told me.' Nam Ho remembered his master telling him this quite seriously. 'You MUST remember to warn your successor about this sword. If you remember nothing else, this you must tell the next abbot of Fa Hai's monastary this. It is a powerful artifact.'
"So are you going to work on the speech part of the translator?" Abbot Nam Ho asked to get them off the topic of the sword. "It's not fair if your people can understand what my people are saying, yet we can't understand you."
"We're working on it." Wade's tinny voice came from the Kimmunicator. "Translating is just input for us, working on the output might take a while cuz we're missing a few parts--"
"Soon as I get them, I can wire it up and Wade--"
"--is working out the bugs as we speak." Thoughout the testing session, the sound of Wade's fingers flying over his keyboard hadn't stopped.
"What's everyone else doing right now?" Nam Ho asked curiously.
"Practising their kung-fu!" Dr. Lipsky made some chopping 'kung-fu' gestures with his hands, then continued tinkering with his translater. He paused a moment to pat Nam Ho's arm awkwardly. "You should rest, don't worry so much! We have it under control."
"There's no relaxing." The abbot chuckled as a knock on the door heralded one of his messengers. As they headed towards the bedridden abbot, Dr. Lipsky spread out his arms to block their way.
"NO!" The former-mad scientist said sternly, while putting the earpiece of the translator in his ear. "He's wounded, he's resting and there has GOT to be some one else for you to--I said, NO!"
The young monk, who had been trying to side-step the blue scientist, but in failing so, let out a sigh.
"Please move! I have to update the abbot on the situation!" The monk's Chinese came out in perfect English to Drakken and when the scientist heard the translator working, he whooped and jumped in the air in excitement.
"These foreigners are crazy!" The young monk backed off when Dr. Lipsky started to do a little dance of triumph.
"Are you getting this?" The good doctor turned to the Kimmunicator excitedly. "Wade, the lag is BARELY noticeable! Well-done!"
"Barely, but not quite." Wade typed away, a tiny smirk of triumph on his lips. "I'm a bit new at this, but I'm getting the hang of it. Writing a translating programme isn't that hard, I'll just get rid of some fluff to make sure we have no lag at all--"
"You do that," Dr. Lipsky nodded, still blocking the monk's attempts to get to the abbot, to Nam Ho's amusement. Finally, the blue scientist help out his hands in a 'stop' motion.
"Kim. Possible." Dr. Lipsky pointed out the door. "Do you understand? Go talk to Kim Possible--Wade, we have to get the translater working, input AND output--Hey! I said go report to Kim Possible!"
Nam Ho chuckled, then grimaced at the pulling sensation in his chest. Dr. Lipsky was right, though. Nam Ho might be conscious, but it would be better to let someone else be in charge for a bit.
"My friend," Nam Ho addressed the messenger, who bowed quickly at hearing the abbot talking to him. "Report to Ms. Kim Possible. She'll lead this mission. But everything else, please get some of the elder brothers to look after."
"I'm surprised you passed on the responsibility to Kim," Wade said, having heard everything in Chinese and understanding it with the help of the Chinese-to-English translators. "I mean, Kim can do anything, but she's been a bit... off, you know?"
"I understand." The abbot nodded. "She's been distracted. But this should focus her, plus, I don't think she will allow us to keep her away from the action. She seems to have gained... a new sense of purpose. Something has changed about her since she came back from Er Mei."
Lang sat outside with his mother, stripping off the bands of cloth he had tied to his clubs for grip and re-binding them again. He would have to be prepared, in case things went wrong tonight. He would possibly have to fight his own people. Maybe his family.
"Lang," His mother looked at him kindly, knowing something was wrong. "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing, mother." But the way that he held himself stiff, every time he heard a scream from inside the house where Tim and Jim were kept, belied his unease.
"Your father wasn't always like this." His mother said after a brief silence. She chuckled softly and went back to knitting reeds into a basket. Lang's mother had 'retired' from the village's demon-hunting, going so far as to refuse to help prepare warriors by arming them. She did all the things that were essential to running a village, like making pots, cleaning, mending things and cooking. But she never fought unless it was for practise, never held a weapon to sharpen it for a deadly purpose. Lang was sometimes secretly ashamed that his mother didn't have the spirit of the clan inside of her...
"Do you remember when you were ten and your grandfather and father went out to the woods alone?" Lang nodded at his mother's words. He remembered pretty well. His grandfather had been ailing and as was the custom, the next leader in line would take the old leader out and receive final instructions from the dying leader. Then the successor would tend to the old one until he passed on. His father had disappeared for ten days and when he came back, he had changed drastically.
From what Lang remembered of his grandfather, Lang had always felt the distance between his grandfather and him. It wasn't that his grandfather didn't like him, oh no. It was just that his grandfather would look at him some times and Lang felt like the old man saw a THING that he liked. Not a person. In fact, his grandfather was that way with everyone, even his wife.
Lang's father, when Lang was aged ten, was quite different from the man he was now. Master Heen doted upon his son and showered attention and love on the child and the child's mother. Lang remembered quite well how his father used to carry him on his shoulders when he was small, joke with the boy, treated him with ready affection. After Master Heen had taken Lang's grandfather out into the woods, he had changed. Gone were the little jokes the two shared, the steady hand on his shoulder and the kindness. When his father looked at him or talked to him, Lang felt like his grandfather stood there in front of him.
"When your father came back, he was completely different. He had forgotten what we had talked about before." Lang's mother said calmly, though her hands had started to shake. "When your grandfather was dying, your father and I were talking about reform. We wanted to change the way your grandfather did things in the village. You remember, way before your grandfather had started getting sick."
Lang nodded again, remember how his father had exercised mercy, one time. They had caught a Tiger demon. His father had let it loose after a brief conversation with the thing. Lang remembered that his father and his grandfather had gotten into a huge argument, got the whole village riled up about how they should treat the other-folk. Then his grandfather had started getting sick.
"When he came back from his walk with your grandfather... things had changed. Your father either didn't remember or pretended not to remember the conversations we had." His mother rested her hands on the half-woven basket, stilling in their work. "I thought I was going crazy. This man I loved had changed so much... so much that I didn't even know him any more."
Lang frowned, not knowing what to say to that. His mother was always a little bit...eccentric. But he remembered some of what she said. Before the walk, his mother and father seemed to love each other very much and now... now, his father and mother barely talked to each other. His mother had even moved back to her family's building and left Lang and his father to themselves. She came over every day to do motherly things like cook and clean, of course, but she slept in her parents' house. She refused to sleep at her husband's. People accepted it because they thought Lang's mother was just taking care of her old and infirm parents. Lang knew differently, though.
"Your grandmother, your father's mother... she died very soon after your father came back from his walk with your grandfather." Lang's mother, took her son's hands in her own. Lang noticed that they were rough from hard work, weathered and starting to wrinkle. A pang of regret hit him as he noticed suddenly that his mother was getting old. "Listen carefully, Lang. And remember what I tell you, okay?"
"Yeh, ah ma." Lang said obediently, noting the seriousness of her voice.
"The same thing happened to your grandmother, that happened to me." Lang's mother said softly, but her voice was all he heard. "She was heart-broken when your father came home and he had changed too."
Lang remembered that too. When his grandmother had seen his father, she had started raving and denying that this was his son.
"Your grandfather used to be a very jolly man before HE went for a walk with HIS father. Then he changed. And your father, he changed. You will change too, son." She said solemnly, but there was still a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "But you can change for the better. Never, EVER go on that walk with your father. Do the right thing, son."
"Ma, what--"
"I'm cooking all your father's favourites tonight. He'll eat a big meal, then he'll be sleepy." His mother smiled mysteriously. "If... and that's a big if. If the boys your father has as our guests manage to... let themselves out at night. Well. That would be too bad."
He looked at her, slightly stunned. Was it that apparent that he was going to do something?
"I'm your mother. I know when you're up to things. And your face just betrayed you." His mother chuckled and put a hand against his face. "'Master Heen' never pays close attention to you, so he won't notice anything amiss."
Lang nodded, trying to get his emotions back under his control, but felt a lump form in his throat at his mother's next words.
"Today will be the last time I see you." His mother smiled, unshed tears apparent in her eyes. "My, how my son has grown up. And how proud he has made me."
"Ma." Lang choked out, looking around furtively. But there was no-one around to see him as he wiped at his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. "Ma.."
"Act like normal, son. And remember everything we taught you here." His mother looked down at her basket and started weaving again, ignoring her son's pleading eyes. "And remember always that no matter what you're taught, you remember that your duty does NOT come before doing what is right. Now go. You probably have much to prepare."
Jim looked over at his brother, huddled in a fetal position at the other side of the room. Tim had been tortured by a man who seemed to delight in the pain it brought the brothers. Jim was still manacled inside the cage in an awkward position where he couldn't sit or kneel and the height of the cage didn't allow him to stand. So he stood crouched for hours, until guards came with food and tended to his brother.
'They wanted to torture him, they don't want him dead.' Jim held on to that one last ray of hope, knowing full well how pathetic it was. But he didn't care. His brother alive and hurting was infinitely better than him dead and not hurting at all.
'Take care of your brother, take care of your brother. FUCK! I'm doing a fucking shit job!' Jim pulled at his manacles again, not paying attention to the pain it caused his hands. He was already pretty certain he had broken one of his wrists today trying to yank off his bindings. But he didn't care. If he had to gnaw off his hands, he would get his brother out of this hellhole!
The sudden moonlight that streamed into the room made him turn to the door, bristling. But what he saw made him tremble with joy.
"Tigger!" Jim whispered, trying to keep his voice low. But the figure that stepped in next made his heart drop. Dressed in the simple uniform of the hunters and a jacket to ward off the night chill, Jim recognized the man who had captured them.
"What--"
The figure put a figure to his lips, then pushed Tigger in Jim's direction. Two other people slipped in to the room and the door was closed. The two made their way over to Tim and before Jim could yell at them to get away from his brother, Lang had reached through the cage and covered his mouth. The only reason Jim didn't bite down on those fingers was that Tigger was looking happily at the Asian man and had a paw on Jim's knee as if to say 'trust him'.
"We're trying to get you out. But you have to be quiet and do what we say." Lang unlocked the cage door, then quickly worked on Jim's manacles. "You need to do everything that I say. If they catch us, we're all dead."
Jim nodded, looking over at his brother who, with the help of the other two rescuers, was struggling into the hunter clan's uniform. Jim was given a similar uniform and he slipped in to it quickly, ignoring the pain that flared in his wrist as he slipped his arm through the sleeves, then pulled the hood of the jacket up.
"Listen carefully," Lang glanced at the front door nervously, expecting his father to burst in at any minute. "You follow me and we'll take you back to your friends. But I need you to not say ANYTHING. Not even in the forest. Not until we have you in front of your friends should you speak."
Jim and Tim nodded.
"Tim... can you walk?" Tim nodded sluggishly. Lang touched the young man's shoulder, feeling sick to his stomach when he couldn't even recognize Tim's face. It was just a mass of bruising and swelling.
"Stay with me, alright?" Lang whispered. "I'll get you out of here."
The one eye that wasn't swollen completely shut looked at Lang gratefully. The young man even managed a smile, which looked unbelievably pitiful. Past his lips, sardonic words managing to rasp past his bloody, swollen lips. "My hero."
Lang nodded, not knowing how else to respond to that. Slipping quietly to the door, he knocked an odd, soft rythym on it. Almost immediately, an answering tapping came back and the door ws pushed open swiftly. Tigger slipped out first, then the rest of them exited that god-forsaken building, shutting its doors and hoping to never ever have to see the insides of the place again.
Crossing the yard with a casual gait, they arrived at the front gate and a guard on the side moved to open the gate for them.
"Think you'll get any action tonight?"
"If we do, they won't know what hit them." Lang chuckled. "See you in a bit--"
"You got more people than usual tonight, don't you?" The guard on the other side noted, curiosity evident in his voice. He wasn't able to see all the faces, especially not Tim and Jim's, situated in the middle of the small group. But what he said was unnerving and Lang didn't need to see to KNOW that several of his people must of stiffened at the observation. Shit. "What's going on? We didn't hear anything 'bout this."
"Some of us got caught playing dice when they had other things they should've been doing." Lang said dryly, hoping that the guards would fall for it. "So I decided, since they had time to play dice, they can sacrifice some sleep for patrol."
"Oh-ho. Tough break." The guards laughed. "Go on."
The group left quickly as the main gate opened for them and closed behind them swiftly, Tigger slipping out with the group ignored by the guards. The stray dogs came and went as they liked, lounging inside the gates or outside. They were so common and everyone was so used to them that nobody paid them much mind. As the guards stood at their posts, one of them happened to cast his bored gaze at the ground, pausing as the moon illuminated a puddle of dark substance.
"Hey, what's that?" One of the guards walked forward and knelt down, dipping his fingers in the puddle. Bringing his wet fingers closer to his face, he felt a cold weight settle in his stomach as his stomach turned at the implications. Blood. Most likely from one of the patrollers. Their footprints, as they moved forward, trailed blood through the gate. This much blood should only come from someone greviously wounded... And the group had a few more people than alotted for patrol.
"I'm going to check on our guests. You stay here."
Within a few minutes, the alarm was raised and pursuers armed to the teeth, reeling from shock and anger at the traitors, raced off to tear the group limb from limb. Master Heen headed the group, rage darkening his features so much that he seemed almost demonic. If it was possible, his features darkened even more as his people uncharacteristically stumbled in the darkness of the forest.
"What are you fools--" His words were cut off as he was sent sprawling to the ground, an unseen hole tripping him. Tigger had been busy all day too, he hadn't lounged around doing nothing at all. All day, he had dug and dug and dug. Many, MANY holes that he was very proud of. Some were deep, some were shallow. But they all served a purpose. Tigger, meanwhile, lead Lang and his men past the earth riddled with holes, to a smooth path he had planned out. Everybody had automatically followed Tigger, unaware of how he had helped since they didn't encounter any of his simple traps.
"DAMN IT!" Master Heen roared, now carefully, and so very slowly navigating the area in front of his home. Those traitors would PAY with their hide!
"You okay?" Lang was on Tim's left side, practically carrying the young man. Tim's right arm was broken so there was no-one on his other side. The speed was jostling Tim's many wounds and already, Lang could feel the young man's blood seeping into his own clothes.
"I... I'm fine." Tim slurred because of his fat lips and because he was starting to get light-headed from the loss of blood.
"Hang on. We'll get you out even if it kills us." Lang whispered hoarsely. The sounds of pursuit was getting louder and they weren't moving any faster. Tigger remained ahead of them but would periodically look behind him impatiently, wanting his group to move faster. They were almost there. But the pursuers were almost on them.
Suddenly, they were surrounded on all sides and the harried group tensed, raised their weapons until they realized the people around them were monks. The robed, clean-shaven men circled them protectively, hurrying them towards the clearing as the first pursuer met the outer circle in a vicious cry the sound of metal against metal broke the peace of the forest.
"Go!" Lang shouted, then bent down to pick up Tim, hooking his arm around the back of the young man's knees. Tim let out a sharp hiss of pain and Lang muttered a quick apology, but didn't stop as he ran as fast as he could. Tim's only reply was to circle his good arm around Lang's neck, tuck his head against the man's chest and hold on as tight as he was able to.
Breaking out into the clearing, Lang immediately pinpointed where Kim was, her red hair blazing under the moon. Surprisingly, the clearing seemed... empty, except for Kim Possible and her team.
"We're going to get massacred!" One of his men who also noticed the apparent lack of back-up, cried out in dismay. Lang didn't say anything, pressed his lips thin together as he lead his men to Kim and she ran to meet them halfway.
"Jim! Tim!" Kim shrieked and held out her arms to take her brother, tears running down her face. Tim himself, was amazed to see the emotions on his sister's face. She cared. The past few months had been a drain on their family as they tried to deal with a changed Kim who didn't seem to care about anything or anyone. Kim cared about him.
"Sis," Tim managed to whimper, tears starting to run down his mangled face. He couldn't help a sob from coming up as he practically fell into his sister's arms, clutching on to her with a death's grip.
"You're safe now, nobody is going to hurt you ever again." She was dimly aware of Jim hugging her too and she circled her arm around his shoulders, kissing his head frantically. The redhead could feel herself going ice-cold with rage. How DARE they do this to her brothers!
As the bulk of the pursuing forces poured in to the clearing fighting the retreating monks, the hunters who had defected raised their weapons hesitantly. They'd have to defend themselves. But they were going to die. It was too obvious, there were too many of them! Already, the monks who had given them support were faltering, backing up step by step. But as Lang looked to Kim for some direction, she stood firm, watching the scene with an impassive eye. As the last of the attackers cleared the trees, Kim raised one hand straight into the air.
"NOW!" Suddenly, the shadows in the trees seperated to show men with bows and arrows, dressed in dark blue, the perfect colour to blend in in the darkness of the forest and the bright light of the moon. The pursuers paused now, looking around in bewilderment. All except one who kept his eyes on Lang and Lang couldn't help but be locked in his father's gaze.
"You can continue to fight us or we can see how many arrows it takes to make you fall." Kim's voice was hard and tight, anger making her features sharper, more beautiful in the moonlight.
"We're not leaving without our people." Master Heen snarled. "So either move or we'll move you!"
"They're *my* people now." Kim's eyes flash with green fire as she passed her brothers over to Ron and Monique. "You can try to take them from me."
"As you like." The leader of the hunter clan roared his orders and his people ran forward to meet their opponents as the arrows started to fly.
"Get my brothers out of here!" Kim shouted her orders at Ron and Monique, then jumped into the fray, the staff she had chosen as a weapon beating away her challengers with ease. She owed them a world of pain for what they had done to her brothers!
Haoxian sat on one of the steps at the edge of the courtyard, alone. Except for the one or two monks that walked about, everyone left him alone. He had wanted to fight, but Kim was right. If they were after him, it was better that he was within the walls of the monastery where it would be hard to get past the defenses the monks had.
Haoxian just just wanted to make up for what he had done. He was deeply mortified by his cowardice when the brothers had been taken. Instead of fighting bravely, he had dived under the bed to hide while the two brothers had been taken. He had raised the alarm afterwards, sure, but he had wasted precious time hiding in the dust, shaking with fear. He had been worse than useless!
Haoxian was suddenly torn out of his self-deprecation as a young monk ran across the courtyard to the Abbot's room.
'What's going on?' Haoxian got up from his seat curiously and trailed after the monk.
"...not retreating... still fighting..." Haoxian stood behind one of the pillars near Nam Ho's room, listening intently. "...doesn't seem to want to give up even though most of his men are down. There's blood everywhere."
"Tell the guards at the wall to stay on the alert. I don't understand what Heen is thinking..." Nam Ho's quiet voice reached Haoxian. As the young monk ran back out again, Haoxian walked out of his hiding place and walked curiously into Nam Ho's room.
"Ah. Haoxian. How can I help you?" The abbot caught sight of the young man and smiled from his bed.
"Is everything okay?" Haoxian asked politely. Even though he and the abbot didn't get along at the beginning, Haoxian was grateful for the sanctuary Nam Ho had offered him.
"Everything is fine. It's just that the leader of the hunters seem intent on trying to kill himself and his people." Nam Ho said wryly. The young man didn't answer him. His eyes were locked on the sword hanging near Nam Ho's bed.
"Haoxian?"
The young man still didn't answer. But Nam Ho's words seemed to prompt Haoxian into motion as he strode towards the sword with a purpose.
"Haoxian, no, don't--" Nam Ho's calls fell on deaf ears as Haoxian reached forward, face blank and eyes slightly glazed. When his fingers touched the sword, a bright light ripped through the room and a howling wind accompanied it, overturning table and chairs, knocking scrolls off the wall and nearly pulling Nam Ho from his bed.
By the time the wind had died and the spots had cleared from Nam Ho's eyes, Haoxian was gone.
And so was the sword.
end note: Sorry, no Shego in this chapter. Maybe the next one :P