LotS/The Story/Between Heaven and Hell/The Man in Black (2)
The Man in Black (2)
"...unconvinced by Rex Carnage's defense. You may recall that the action hero said he was making a low budget movie, and that gunning down aspiring actors was much easier than employing special effects. He was sentenced to a week of community service, and ordered to appear in a public service film about the dangers of shooting children."
Roy Extho beamed at the camera, his smile as radioactive as ever.
"Oh, I'm being told that Mindy Mazmarth has an urgent report for us! Maybe she's finally found a man who can stand her for more than three minutes..."
The reporter appeared on the screen, wearing a blue top and a frosty smile.
"Screw you, Roy." She stuck her middle finger up by way of punctuation. "Thanks to my sources in the Sian Empire, our network can officially break a story concerning Jian (Player's name)!"
"The genocidal war hero?"
"That's right, Roy. Viewers might remember that the Jian has been accused of nuking entire planets and massacring innocent civilians. However, over the past months a concerted interstellar media campaign has spoken out in support of <his/her> actions and helped to shift public opinion."
"We're not here for a history lesson, Mindy. What's the breaking news?"
"I was just getting to that, Roy, before an overpaid jackass interrupted me. There have been sporadic reported sightings of (Player's Name) since the end of the war. But we've now obtained shocking verified footage of the Jian brawling with an unknown opponent on Blackpool."
A video feed of a garish neon bar appeared on the screen, shot from a high angle. Two people were fighting while a woman cowered in the corner. One was dressed from the neck down in distinctive Sian armor, the other in black from head to toe.
"It looks like (Player's Name)'s getting the hell beaten out of <him/her>!" Roy said. "I thought <he/she> knew kung fu or something?"
"If you think that's bad..."
The man in black kicked <Player's Name> in the chest, launching <him/her> through the bar's window. There the footage froze. (Player's name) hovered in the air, suspended with pieces of broken glass around <him/her>.
"Wow! When's the funeral?"
"Not so fast, Roy... He/She's alive! He/She landed in the planet's famous black ocean and was rescued. My sources say he/she's recovering from severe injuries, under the personal protection of Prime Minister Wu Tenchu!"
Wanted Criminal
"This is an outrage! It's... it's... outrageous!"
Francois Dupont, the Secretary-General of the Union of Human Worlds, glared and hammered the podium with his fist.
"Secretary-General, please compose yourself," Wu Tenchu said.
The prime minister spoke from a two-sided screen which floated at the front of the Assembly, displaying his face both to Dupont and to the other diplomats who filled the chamber.
"You're associating with a man/woman accused of war crimes! A man/woman who has been summoned before a UHW hearing but has refused to attend!"
"With respect, the Jian never refused. He/she simply didn't appear. Perhaps your invitation went astray..."
"This is no laughing matter! The people of human space deserve and demand justice!"
"Oh? Recent opinion polls have shown that a clear majority are against any attempt to-"
"Prime minister! You know full well that public opinion has been malevolently influenced by a sinister propaganda campaign designed to spread the abhorrent view that the Centurian genocide was acceptable!"
"Surely you don't consider the inhabitants of human space so foolish as to be swayed by a malevolent, sinister, and abhorrent-"
"The people are-" Dupont paused, glanced at the rows of cameras, and gave a small cough. "But such things can be discussed at the hearing. Where is Jian (Player's name)?"
"The Jian was gravely injured in a violent assault, and is recuperating aboard the Zhuge Liang, my personal vessel."
"Then you'll bring him/her to Earth to face-"
"No, Mr. Secretary-General. After we leave Blackpool's orbit, we will return to Sian."
"This is outrageous!"
"So a certain gentleman told me mere moments ago. But I fear that I must disagree. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."
Francois Dupont continued to glare. But he did so at empty air. The image of Wu Tenchu had vanished.
In the cockpit of a black spacecraft, azure eyes shone.
Victor and Vanguished)
Your eyes open. There's a moment's disorientation, as different realities try to assert themselves in your memory. In one you were kicked into the sea and saved from drowning by Screaming Barracuda. The other... Well, that involved a mishmash of confused history and ancestral recollection. It isn't difficult to discern which one is true.
And this awakening is better than your last. You're not sprawled on the floor, with water gushing out of your mouth. Instead you're in a soft, warm, comfortable bed. The room is soothing, its illumination gentle and subdued. There are medical machines nearby -- monitoring your vitals. But since nothing's displaying red lights or flat, droning lines, these don't concern you.
You shift under the covers. A collection of assorted pains ache across your body, making you wince. Each one reminds you of a powerful blow from black fists or boots. And with that comes a worse memory. A woman's scream...
Alexa. Ali's sister... You failed her.
A horrific image hovers before your eyes. Noir's tearing her apart, splashing his black mask with bright crimson...
Noir...
He beat you. A fair fight, unarmed combat. And he defeated you. The thoughts which fill your mind make you ashamed. What do they matter, next to the life of a woman you couldn't save? And yet you can't help pondering them -- drawing them to the forefront of your consciousness.
You're an expert in hand-to-hand combat. Trained by the Sian Empire to incapacitate or kill with your strikes and grapples. And you've had more martial experience than most professional brawlers. But Noir... Was he augmented? Filled with cybernetic enhancements like Ragnar? Perhaps... No. You're deluding yourself. Turning speculation into an excuse to save your battered pride. You've fought enough augmented enemies to know the difference. He wasn't loaded with tech like the Niflung.
"Kasan!"
The punch... That blow struck with the power of your miraculous heritage and destructive chi. A strike that causes exit wounds, shatters bones and splatters organs...
He caught it. Just caught it like it was nothing...
Your head sinks into the pillow. The greatest shame of all isn't the defeat. It's what you know deep in your heart.
You don't want to encounter Noir again. Because you're not his equal.
Noir's ship sliced through the void.
The Zhuge Liang was a distant purple shape through the cockpit window, propelled along a perpendicular course by the golden fire of its engines. The man in black's azure eyes blazed as they fastened upon it.
(Player's name) had escaped death. But death was coming for him/her once more.
The Mandarin and The Monster
(Player's name) closed his/her eyes. Wu Tenchu hoped he was sleeping, and not awake with dark thoughts weighing in his mind.
Master Wu deactivated the screen. It had come to life when (Player's name) regained consciousness, triggered by the machines monitoring his condition. The mandarin had considered speaking to him/her. But it hadn't seemed appropriate to intrude at such a moment.
Another screen played the footage from Blackpool. Wu Tenchu had watched the fight perhaps a dozen times. Now he examined it in slow-motion with his expert eye, scrutinized every movement, each attack and defense.
Noir... That was the name Ham had told Screaming Barracuda during his delirium, and which the Piscarian singer had spoken to Wu when questioned. The man in black who fought better than the Sian Empire's finest warrior. Who could withstand a punch that had... The mandarin blinked away the memories. He had no wish to remember the death and destruction it had wrought.
Wu Tenchu knew many things. High among them, a trait which touched and encompassed so many others, was that he understood people. What were strategies, tactics, and political schemes save for ways to employ this knowledge in the most efficacious manner?
And Master Wu knew (Player's name). Understood the warrior spirit in his breast and the lengths to which it would drive him/her. In the end, (Player's name) wouldn't allow an enemy to wound him/her so and live. Councilor Dule's grim demise and the deaths of Centurian billions were proof enough of that.
But if he/she fought Noir, tried to recover his/her pride and honor by challenging the masked man again... Then (Player's name) would perish. And whether it was through friendship, loyalty, pragmatism, or the wonderful woman they'd both cared so much for, Wu Tenchu couldn't allow that to happen.
The black ship skimmed in low, approaching the Zhuge Liang from above. Technology could thwart technology. Sensors could be baffled. But it was all for nothing if you allowed yourself to be glimpsed through a window.
It settled atop the big purple vessel. Magnetic docking clamps held the smaller craft in place, a dark leech fastened to its victim.
Moments later Noir's hover pad was lowering him into the Sian ship through an access hatch.
Hunter and Prey
You toss the blanket aside and swing your legs off the bed. Lying there is just making you restless in body as well as mind. You have to stretch your limbs.
So you dress in the jumpsuit that's been left folded on a chair, and head for the door.
Martin Chung's friends and detractors both called him 'Checkers'. That name had first attached itself to him at the academy, and it had spread through each vessel he'd served on.
It wasn't the most erudite of nicknames. He was called Checkers because of his obsession with checking things. It was a quirk that had been with him since he was a child -- when he'd leave the apartment only to return to the front door and turn the handle to make sure it was locked, or flit in and out of the kitchen because of a niggling feeling that he'd left the stove on. This trait had only become more pronounced in the military. If your work could mean the difference between life and death, it was only logical to check, recheck, and check again. All the sniggers and quips in the galaxy wouldn't dissuade him of this.
So although he'd tended to the security monitoring room himself, and set everything up exactly as it was supposed to be, Martin 'Checkers' Chung found himself going there again. Just one last check...
He entered the chamber and went over to the main console. A dozen holographic screens hovered there, ready to be selected and enlarged as an observer saw fit. His gaze roamed across them all. Everything was perfect. He hadn't needed to come here, but he didn't regret that he had. Better safe than sorry.
Martin turned around to leave. And found himself staring into a pair of bright azure slits. He raised his blaster, but it was too late.
The first punch shattered his helmet. The second crushed his throat.
Noir stepped over the corpse and gazed at the security screens.
"(Player's name)."
There he/she was, on one of the images. In a room that looked like a small museum or display chamber. Exquisite objects stood within glass cases, waiting to be marveled at. (Player's name) was inspecting one of them.
As good a place as any for him/her to die.
Noir (II)
The door opened, and Noir entered the chamber.
(Player's name) was on the opposite side, his back to the doorway.
The man in black paused. He sniffed the air. Ah... Deception.
Behind him the door closed and locked itself with a series of metallic clicks. The hologram of (Player's name) disappeared. Rectangular images came into existence on all four walls. Each of them showed the same thing. The face of Wu Tenchu, the mandarin.
"I congratulate you on this stratagem," Noir said. Even the growl within his voice seemed to issue approval.
"Thank you."
"But tell me one thing... Did (Player's name) agree to it? Or was it of your own devising."
"(Player's name) knows nothing of this."
"I believed as much... Shall we begin?"
Noir spread his arms to either side.
In all four corners of the room, turrets popped up from the floor and descended from the ceiling.
Bullets raked Noir, hundreds of rounds blazing away from spinning barrels. Beams of energy blasted and seared him, bombarding the man in black with huge bursts of red and yellow discharge.
His helmet shattered beneath the assault. His ebon garb was chewed up and obliterated. Thus his black, muscular, scaly flesh was revealed. Even naked, his azure eyes were two lone scars of color amidst the darkness.
Master Wu stroked his moustache. The barrage shredded Noir's clothing, but his hide was undamaged...
"Tell (Player's name) that I am coming for him/her!"
The voice rose above the whirring guns and roaring blasts.
Noir clenched his fists and strode to the door.
Wu Tenchu opened the door to his home, a modest building close to the palace. He had quarters in that grand imperial residence. For his duties often compelled him to spend his nights as well as his days there. But at times he liked to ensconce himself in humbler surroundings, where he could think without the distractions of state and opulence.
He crossed the hallway to his personal office. It was a comfortable chamber, with two deep armchairs, a fireplace that emitted a welcoming glow, bookcases filled with eclectic volumes, a table which held a weiqi board, and a desk bearing assorted terminals and screen projectors.
It was to the terminals that Master Wu went first. He'd been learning all he could about Noir, compiling information that might aid (Player's name).
"I attempted to access those, but I was unable to. Your own encryption methods?"
The mandarin froze for only a fraction of a second before replying.
"Yes."
"They are magnificent."
"You flatter me."
Noir emerged from the shadows.
"You were an assassin before loftier things beckoned you," the man in black said.
"That isn't common knowledge."
"We are not common people. Tell me, are you as swift and deadly as they say?"
"Tales often grow in the telling."
"I shall enjoy putting it to the test."
"A game of weiqi first?"
Wu Tenchu gestured at the board.
"Very well."
The mandarin and Noir sat on opposite sides of the table, the board and its grid between them.
"Black, I presume?"
Wu Tenchu slid the pot of ebony stones over to him.
And the two of them played.
White stones descended from the mandarin's fingers, their black enemies from Noir's -- each occupying an intersection where two lines met. They played in silence save for the clicking of stones against wood, and the soft, almost imperceptible rustling of Master Wu's moustache as he stroked it. Each of them claimed and conquered swaths of the board. They lifted away slain stones.
When at last the rival armies had consumed the board, the white forces dominated the field.
Wu Tenchu smiled.
"Splendid," he said. "I was hoping it would prove so."
"A fine victory, but your meaning eludes me."
"Had your skill been as great in strategy as in battle, I would have been most perturbed. It's a relief that it isn't so."
"We have tested ourselves at your game. Now we shall do the same in mine. And I do not believe the results will be so pleasing to you. But I shall relish discovering the extent of your abilities."
The two of them stood and moved into the middle of the floor.
"I shall destroy (Player's name). You have merely purchased him time."
"Perhaps... But only if you leave here alive."
"You are that confident in your assassin's tricks?"
"No. In my politician's tricks."
The mandarin whistled. It was a lovely, sonorous sound.
Thick metal barriers clanged into place, sealing the building's doors and windows.
Wu Tenchu smiled.
The explosion tore through the room in an apocalyptic wave.