Knights of Cyrenia

[Matthias]

I’ll never forget that time in my life…when everything came to its climax.

I’ll never forget that man, claiming a bond of family with me…or the one who I could have actually felt that kind of connection with.

I’ll never forget the woman who stood by my side, as we both struggled to free ourselves from our own personal hells, and continued to pray for my safety.

And I’ll never forget those four…they always had to option to back out. But they never did. They instead stood their ground, becoming more intertwined in the struggle. I’ll never forget that. I’ll never forget…

The Knights of Cyrenia.

Knights of Cyrenia

Sortie 1: Fatherhood Comes First

The man pushed his sunglasses back into place as he nodded to the person in the car, then turned and entered the building. As he did, a small bell signaled his entry.

The first thing he noticed was the…smallness of the place. This is really where he was to meet them? Rourke had spoken so highly of these people, and now…all he saw before him a dingy little café…no more than three or four wooden tables to its name, each looking rather musty. The whole place could stand to use a good cleaning, too. Still, there was rather something…home-like about the place, and at least it smelled good. Somebody was cooking something in the kitchen, and its pleasant smell reminded the man that he hadn’t eaten since noon yesterday. But he wasn’t here for food.

The barrier between the front room and the kitchen, nothing more than a simple blue curtain, parted as a young man came out. The man with sunglasses frowned. Was this one of them? Seemed kind of scrawny for a mercenary. The young man also seemed to have an odd way of presenting himself, whether he was a mercenary or if he was just a café worker. That jacket he was wearing, for one, seemed entirely too small for one, it only fell partway down his back, and the sleeves barely went past his elbows.

“Oy, pops! Can I help you with something, or are just gonna stand there and stare at me?” The young man was snapping his fingers in the air in an attempt to get the other man’s attention, as he smiled a cocky grin. Stupid punk, the man thought as he removed his sunglasses. He already wasn’t liking this guy.

“I was told to ask for Anne-Marie or Jonathan. Rourke referred me.”

The young man’s expression changed to an understanding gaze.

“Rourke…right, that journalist from a couple months back. How’s he holding up?”

“Fine as far as I know. I’m to take it you are Jonathan, then?”

The young man, this “Jonathan” smiled his cocky grin again. “You could call me King Louis for all I care. My name doesn’t matter right now. What does matter here is that you’ve been referred here by one of our past clients, so obviously, you’re here to hire the Knights for a job.”

“Yes, I’m here on behalf of--”

“Jonathan” held up a hand, cutting off the older man.

“Save your breath. The one you just called ‘Anne-Marie’ is the one who makes the call around her. You got to impress her, not me. And from the looks of you…you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Jonathan” began to walk around him, and adopted a voice filled with contempt. “Let’s see, pressed black suit, probably two sizes too small…probably not too comfortable for your manhood, but no matter…nice black shoes polished to a mirror shine. Not that anyone cares, who the hell stares at shoes all day? And oh yes, my personal favorite touch…sunglasses to make you look ‘dark and mysterious’…ooooh, scary. Yep, you’ve got all the makings of a hired goon. ‘Anne-Marie’ doesn’t like that too much.”

“Jonathan” laughed, while the man fumbled with his sunglasses. Any other day, this punk would get his face beat on. “Jonathan” leisurely pulled a package of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jacket pocket, lit a cigarette, and began to smoke it. He held the package out to the man. “Smoke?”

The man shook his head, and “Jonathan” took a draught, and then breathed out the odorous tobacco smoke in the man’s face. “Suit yourself. You wait here, I’ll go get her.” He parted the curtains and headed back into the kitchen, cigarette still firmly held in his mouth.

The man suppressed another urge to punch this “Jonathan” square in the face, and sat at one of the tables. Five minutes passed, nothing. He began rapping his fingers against the table. Ten minutes. Had that little bastard forgotten, or was he specifically making him sweat? At twenty minutes, the man was all but restless. He finally stood up and approached the curtain that led to the kitchen. He hesitated only for a moment before reaching for the curtain to pull it aside. But as he was, “Jonathan” poked his head out.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait, chief. She wanted to finish what she was cooking. Trust me, you don’t want to interrupt her, man. Anyway, she’ll see you now.”

He pushed aside the curtain, and beckoned for his potential customer to enter. The man nodded, and walked inside.
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[squidmaster64]

First post? Yay!

Really well written! Can't wait for more, as this sounds like it'll get interesting fast!
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(Clearly, my current is not amazing. :( )

[SRMS]

I like it.
I love it.
I what some more of it.
I try so hard but cant rise above it.

[Moontoon]

That was really good ^__^ I'ver been looking forward to this, since you've been telling me much about your characters and stuff =3 Keep up the good work =D
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[Dr. Casey]

Nice start. I liked the forward at the beginning... talking about how four of the Knights of Cyrenia always had the option to back out but never did was nice and poignant. I'm already interested in these characters and I don't even know who the hell they are. What's a sortie, by the way? And I can't quite grasp how "Fatherhood Comes First" relates to this chapter, but that's okay since I don't think we're supposed to at this point.

I'm not sure what to think of Jonathan. My initial reaction was to think of him something of a prick (and I still feel that way, because let's face it - he is), and around the time he started snapping his fingers I'd have liked to force-feed him poison. His spiel about why Anne-Marie might not fancy the aspiring client too much was made of win, though, so that's kinda won me over. "Nice black shoes polished to a mirror shine" stands out as classy dialogue. I have less to say about the mysterious client because he received less characterization than Jonathan in this first chapter, but I can sympathize with him for having to deal with the punk kid.

Looking forward to Sortie 2.

[Mr Blobby]

[Matthias]

[Matthias]

As “Jonathan” walked him through the kitchen, the man couldn’t notice how unlike the front room this was. Despite it being the place where food was prepared, it was…immaculate. Not a grease spot to be seen anywhere, every pot, pan, and utensil neatly organized. Ah, now this room is definitely where a woman’s touch resides, he thought. And that wonderful smell of cooking was still wafting through the room, making the man hungrier by the second.

They entered through a door, and into a simple, well-lit room. A sturdy wooden table and some chairs were the only notable furnishings of the room. Being as the furniture was of no note, his attention immediately turned to the woman who sat at the table. So this was “Anne-Marie”, he thought. The first thing of note was the woman’s fiery red hair. In this somewhat bland environment, it was sure to catch his eye. And then she stood up, and the man was forced to take a small step back. He was 5’11”, average height for a male. He was by no means the tallest guy around, but he certainly wasn’t dwarfed by many, either.

He was dwarfed by this woman. She had to stand at least 6’2’. The man was surprised. All the old stories had portrayed female cooks at this squat, obese woman, and here was this tall, elegant, trim young woman throwing that theory out the window. Her sleeves, which fell to about halfway down her upper arm, showed off her toned arms. They weren’t ripped, but he could tell the woman was no weakling. Yet despite the inherent strength, she maintained a feminine charm and a warm smile about her. She pushed emerald framed glasses onto her face as she spoke.

“Hello, how can I help ya?” When she spoke, it was a dialect indicated someone who grew up in the southern regions of Cyrenia. Agriculture based, mostly. His confidence in this outfit fell. Now her build made sense. It was indicative of someone who had grown up on a farm, right? So these “Knights of Cyrenia” were made up of a country bumpkin girl, and some punk young man? Wasn’t looking good, but he had to press on.

“My name is Arthur Denholm, Anne-Marie. I’m here on behalf of a client to request the Knights for a job.”

“Annie-Marie” raised an eyebrow. “On behalf of? Why can’t your client just come speak to us directly?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s trying to keep this as low profile as possible.”

“Well, sir, I hope you understand this, but for me, it’s a principle of trust,” the woman said as he walked over to the table and sat back down in a chair, her voice clearly carrying an annoyed tone. “No doubt you know the oftentimes-dangerous nature of our work. I consider it a professional courtesy to meet with my clients directly. They owe me that much respect, I figure.”

“At this point, we don’t even know WHO this client is,” the young man piped up as leaned against a wall. “Kind of hard to work for invisible people.” He smirked at Arthur, who returned an icy gaze.

“My client is Representative Holt” Arthur offered after a moment’s pause.

Even “Jonathan” was forced to widen his eyes. “THE Representative Holt? Okay, yeah, now you’re gonna have to bring him in, cause I ain’t believing you till I see this! What the hell does that stooge want us to do? Deliver campaign bumper stickers?”

“Anne-Marie” wasn’t as joking about it. “Don’t you read the news? His daughter was kidnapped about a week ago.”

“Oh.”

Arthur nodded. “That’s correct. I was here to arrange with you the possibility of getting her back. Rourke had mentioned you recovering those documents that had been stolen by his rival reporter, so the Representative thought…”

“Well, recovering a child is world’s different from an item recovery, Mr. Denholm,” the woman frowned. “Also, I still want to meet with the representative. There’s something I want to see before I agree to anything.”

Arthur nodded. “I’ll go speak with him.” He exited the room, headed for the car that was parked out front. When he was gone, the young man turned to the woman.

“What is that you want to see, Tarah?” he asked, addressing her by her true name rather than the aliases they used during most operations.

She returned the favor by addressing him by his. “Jason, I don’t expect you to understand this, hun, but I’ve got to see just how determined he is in going about this. I want to understand the details of everything that’s happened so far. The way I see it, we’re a last resort, if we go in there to rescue her, violence very well may break out. I want to see…if he’s willing to accept the risk.”

“Make sure he’s really at the end of his rope, huh?”

Tarah nodded, but Jason could tell by that look in her amber eyes…that warm, yet determined gaze. They were probably heading out to save this girl. Jason could guess why, too.

“Thinking about your pop, Tarah?”

Tarah smiled and nodded. But there was a noticeable melancholy tone in her smile. There usually was when she was thinking about her father.

The bell on the door rung, indicating someone was entering. Jason went out front to see if it was Arthur returning with Holt. Soon, he returned, bringing the other two with him.

Tarah looked at Holt, and was surprised by what she saw. Here was the man, who on TV did not let his hobbled leg stop him from being one of the most imposing speakers you’d ever see. But now…he was a beleaguered, tired man, and it showed. The bags under his eyes marked the passage of a week’s worth of sleepless nights.

“Representative Holt…your man, Arthur, gave a basic idea of what it is you want us to do. But I need you to answer some questions for me.” Tarah stood. On another day, Holt would’ve expressed shock at the woman’s height, but his mind was elsewhere.

“What…what do you need to know?” Even Holt’s voice portrayed a broken man. “Anything to get my Shelley back!”

“The kidnappers…are they holding her for ransom?”

“Y-yes. They’ve instructed me to make three separate payments…I’ve already made the second.”

“Then why hire us if you’re willing to pay ransom?”

“I get this horrible feeling…the more time passes, the likelier chance is I’ll never see her again.” Holt’s eyes fell to the floor, and Tarah felt a heaviness in her heart…she couldn’t imagine a worse feeling…than losing a child or a family member or any kind.

Jason kept a stony face silence throughout the conversation. Tarah could tell her partner wanted to shoot his mouth off, wanted to say something disparaging for whatever reason, but he knew such a thing would not be timely, nor would she allow him to make any such comments. She refocused back on the conversation at hand. “I don’t question the validity of the case, Representative…it’s been all over the news about your daughter. I just need to make sure of your resolve.”

“What do you mean?”

Tarah sighed. “We aren’t a peaceful group, Representative. We will do what’s necessary to get your little girl back to you safe, but we ARE armed, if we come into danger, we WILL defend ourselves, and there is the chance your daughter may be hurt. Are you willing to accept that? There’s always a chance the kidnappers will return her safely after the last payment.”

Holt shook his head. “The lead kidnapper…used to work for me. A man named William Reizer. I fired him when I caught him embezzling campaign funds. He’s blamed me for ruining his life ever since. I don’t think…he’ll be so accommodating.”

Holt started sobbing. “If I have to take the risk, I will! I just want her back!”

Tarah nodded; she’d gotten the answer she needed. “I assume you don’t know where the kidnappers are holding your daughter?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll have to plan for using the third ransom drop off as a way to track them.” She handed Holt a card. “Call this number when you know the date of that drop off point. We’ll finalize the plan then, though I have a general idea of what we might be doing.”

The representative nodded, gave his thanks, and left. Tarah turned to Jason. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m as cheery as a day filled with rainbows, and sunshine, and elks that poop solid gold and what not.”

“Hardly. I can tell you wanted to mouth off during that entire meeting. Now, what’s bothering you?”
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[Moontoon]

This is getting more and more interesting^^ I've said it before but I say it again, You're a great writer Matt ^__^
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[squidmaster64]

Yes... this is getting good... :D *plasters fact to screen*
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Primary Avatar Excellence Theorem: if one has an amazing icon, then it was made by Roadie.
(Clearly, my current is not amazing. :( )

[Ray]

Me love this so far.
The story is interesting,I'm curious what's gonna happen next!
You really are a very good writer,Matt. I hope to read more soon!
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icon credit

[Matthias]

“It’s nothing important,” Jason waved dismissively.

“Jason…” Tarah sighed, “Just say it already.”

“I don’t like this Holt guy at all.”

“On what grounds?”

“He’s a politician, duh.”

Tarah just rolled her eyes. “And that is a criteria on someone’s character HOW, may I ask?”

“I make it a principle not to associate with people who make their profession by lying and making promises they cannot keep.”

“This isn’t some campaign we’re talking about Jason, it’s his daughter’s life.”

Jason sat in a chair, and leaned back. He tried to pull out a cigarette, but Tarah reached in and grabbed the carton before he could event take one out. Tarah shot him a “not in here you don’t” look. Jason knew not to argue the point. Only place he could get away with smoking was the front room, and even then, only when Tarah wasn’t looking…and if the other one had been here, oh there’d be no way in hell.

He instead chose to continue with this conversation. As the words came out of his mouth, though, he desperately wished he could shut himself up. This wasn’t what was irking him, but he didn’t want to go into the actual reason. Tarah was sharp though, even though he thought he had kept his discontent well hidden. Still, he had gone this far with the lie, might as well finish it.

“Oh, we know damn well their families are political tools for these guys. They know if they have the perfect family image, the voters just love them.”

Tarah’s mouth fell agape. “Are you saying he’s just doing this for political clout?”

“Wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Jason Bradson! I can’t believe you’d say something like that!” Tarah couldn’t believe her comrade. She knew he wasn’t always the cheeriest guy, she didn’t expect that. But still…Holt had shown every indication that he was a father desperate to get his daughter back. To have Jason insult him like this…but no that wasn’t it. What upset her most was that it was obvious this was not what was on his mind. He was, as he’d put it “talking out his ass.” Didn’t he trust her enough to just tell her the truth?

“Eh, whatever.” Jason could tell he had upset her, and he sought to end the conversation. “It’s not going to change anything. It’s not like I’m going to leave you to do this by yourself. Politician or not, there’s a little girl out there who’s in danger, and that I won’t stand for.”

Jason stood up and walked out of the room, headed for the front and outside. Tarah watched him go, feeling upset, worried, and yet a bit relieved. What was on his mind, and why wouldn’t she tell him? Still, she knew she could rely on him to back her up when the time came. That he was not lying about.

She walked to a door across the room, and opened it, walking down a hallway until she reached a door at the end of the hallway. She knocked lightly, and called. “Xander, hun? Okay for me to come in?”

“O-okay, Tarah.”

<Author's note on background music (BGM): Obviously, I can't link the mp3s, but I'll at least mention what tracks I'm using. The name not in parenthesis is what I'd call the track, the one in parenthesis being the actual track used.>

BGM: The Quiet One’s Mind at Work—Theme of Xander (“Sacred Terrorist”, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex)

Tarah opened the door, and walked into the room of Xander, Jason’s younger brother. His actual name was Alexander, but Jason had called him Xander since the boy had been young, and the name stuck. Now 14, he had come with Jason and joined with Tarah’s outfit.

“Was the food all right, hun?” Tarah said as Xander handed her a clean plate. She smiled at his careful mannerisms. He had been sure to clean the plate and dry it, to save her the trouble of having to do that herself, something that Jason probably wouldn’t have done. Bless his heart, but Jason was a bit of a slob.

Now, Xander was meticulous. Tarah had to laugh and wonder sometimes, which of the two brothers was the more responsible. But Jason was Xander’s protector, that much was clear. Xander was perpetually nervous, and was cursed with a seemingly permanent stutter. “I-it was r-r-really good, Tarah.” Tarah smiled. He still wasn’t quite comfortable around her, but it was a lot better than it used to be. At least he talked to her now. Xander shuffled back to his computer, and began working at it.

Tarah gazed around Xander’s room for a moment. A strange mix of technology and plants filled the room. Normally one might say, “littered the room”, but you couldn’t say that with Xander’s room. Everything was arranged to allow for maximum space efficiency. On one side, all of Xander’s technical equipment stood. Despite his young age, Xander was a whiz kid with machines and computer systems, and served as the technical officer on missions, relaying Tarah and Jason valuable information and troubleshooting problems on the fly from his room here. On the other side, a variety of plants sat in pots and planters. Xander, despite his love of tech, also had an interest in gardening, and Jason had gone to great lengths to provide him with plants to care for. Given his meticulous nature, he was sure to succeed. “Your plants are looking lovely, Xander.”

“Th-thank you…did you n-need something, Tarah?” Xander’s question signaled he was done with human contact for now.

“Yeah, hun, just make sure the tracking and communication gear is ready to go soon. We’ve got a job coming up.”

“O-okay.”

Tarah left the room, making sure to close the door behind her. That boy…when it came to anything non-human, he was completely comfortable, in his element. When it came to people though…he had some ways left to go.

BGM: Cynical Gunslinger—Theme of Jason (“Big Bluff”, Trigun)

Outside, Jason finished off his cigarette and dropped the cigarette to the asphalt of the street. He did not bother to stomp it out, preferring to let it smolder and smoke in the street. He took a deep breath, letting his lungs fill with oxygen instead of tobacco.

Damn it, didn’t mean to do that, he thought, running his hand through his hair. Tarah’s no stupid girl, she knew I was just throwing stuff out there. Still, don’t want her to be too worried about me.

Jason tapped his heel against the sidewalk he was standing on, as he wondered why fathers had become such a sensitive topic around here…whenever Tarah’s father was mentioned, Tarah got that look…like she was staring off into distance. Jason didn’t even want to start thinking about his. And now this Holt guy…he sincerely hope he was as good a father as he let on earlier. If not, there were some teeth that needed to be kicked down some throats.

If he was true to his word…his daughter was lucky. Lucky to have a father like that.

Jason pondered on this point for a moment further, before deciding to head back into the café. His gun needed cleaning and loading before the job, whenever that was. Couldn’t hurt to prepare now. He walked in, leaving the smoldering cigarette to burn its last embers out.
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[Moontoon]

Aaaw this chapter was all cute and stuff with Tarah and Xander^^ *wants to read more*

I'll see when I get some time so I can draw your characters =3
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[SRMS]

<3~

To the 5th Power.

[Matthias]

Two days later, Tarah awoke to sunlight filtering through her window, and sat up in her bed and stretched her arms out. Another routine day, it seemed. Holt hadn’t called yet, the ransom payment must not yet have happened. Tarah leaned over, and picked up a picture on her nightstand. She smiled.

In that photo was her father hoisting her onto his shoulder, and giving a cheesy thumb up. Tarah wasn’t older than…eight or nine when this photo was taken. Such an awkward little girl back then…big coke bottle glasses, clumsy, you name it. And yet…there was her father. Always there. To him, she was a little angel, his precious girl. Tarah wondered…should she go visit her father today? If nothing else happened…maybe. But first, she had to make the brothers breakfast.

BGM: Loving Nurture of the Home—Theme of Tarah (Sight of Spira, Final Fantasy X)

Despite his organization, the younger Bradson would sometimes lose track of time, and forget to eat, and his elder brother…well, to put it simply, his cooking was disastrous, unless consuming ash was your thing. Taking care of them like this…really made her feel like a mother at times. Not that Tarah minded. She was in her element when she had someone to care for. She was also in her element in the kitchen, where she happily worked now. As she cooked, though, her thoughts ultimately drifted back to her father. This situation with the representative had got her thinking a lot about him. He had given her so much, she wondered if all she did for others was her way of repaying him for it, seeing as there would be no way to thank him directly…not anymore.

The breakfasts cooked now, she delivered it back to Xander first. After knocking, she entered to find him working on his favored plant, an anthurium plant that was the first one he had gotten from his brother. Through some joking of Jason’s, the plant had gained the name “Potted Plant”, and it was this by which it forever be referred to by anyone, Xander included.

“Breakfast, hun.” Tarah offered him the plate. “Eggs, bacon, toast. Simple, like you like.”

“Th-thanks. C-could you p-put it on the t-table there?” Once again, it seems young Xander was focused on something. Tarah nodded, and set the plate next to him on the table he was working at. As she walked out, Xander titled his head up. “The e-equi-equip…the stuff’s r-ready when the job is.” Tarah nodded, smiled, and left Xander to his business, as she headed to his brother’s room. Hmm…still relatively early in the morning. Jason would probably still be asleep. Oh well, his loss, Tarah thought, a big grin on her face as she pounded on his door.

“Mornin’, sunshine!”

“It’s open.”

Tarah, shocked, walked inside and handed Jason his breakfast. “Up before noon, Jason? Should I check out the window for flying pigs?”

Jason rolled his eyes as he shoved a bite of egg into his mouth. As he chewed though, Tarah noticed the bags under his eyes. “Hun, how much sleep did you get?”

The note of concern in her voice was clear, and Jason could have hit himself for making her worry. “Eh, couple hours. I’m fine though.”

“I doubt that. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to tell me that if it’s not true.”

“Oh, but what would be wrong? It’s a lovely morning. Why, I think I’ll go play hopscotch, and then dance and sing with bluebirds in a field of wildflowers!” Jason grinned at her. She knew better than to try and pry further, he was going to be stubborn on this. Now she was sure he hadn’t told her what was bothering him.

“So, what do you plan on doing today? Our Father of the Year hasn’t called yet.”

Tarah ignored the biting sarcasm in his voice. “I might go see Dad today.”

Jason’s tone changed in an instant. “Do you want me to go this time?”

Tarah shook her head. She would rather that unhappy trip remain something she did on her own.

As she began to stand up, the audible sound of the phone ringing could be heard. Tarah and Jason both shot each other a look, wondering if this was the Representative. Jason was left waiting for an apprehensive five minutes as Tarah went to go answer the phone. When she came back into her room, her face was filled with purpose.

“Suit up, partner! We’ve got a meeting to get to!”
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