Disclaimer:

Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha is the creative property of Seven Arcs, whom created this wonderful anime/manga series. Anything not attributed to Seven Arcs belongs to their respective owners, such as other series, references, and vice-versa. This story is written purely just for fun, guys; please for God's sake, don't sue me! I'm just a college student with too much free time on his hands! On the other hand, any specific author created characters I created for this fic (despite how unoriginal they may be at times) are mine. So without further ado, let's get on with the show!

The Surgeon General's Warning:

Read at your own risk.


Mahou Shounen Enforcer Chrono!

Before Lyrical

Entry 1.1:

Don't Give Your Mother Grief!

A Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha AU fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards


Everything has a beginning, my story started back then, long ago in a galaxy far, far away...

It was the morning of Sunday the Seventh, T.C. 4653: dark, gloomy, stormy, cool, raining, thunder. Five years since the war against the Confederacy of Independent Systems; five years since the establishment of the Time-Space Administration Bureau as the new "face" of the Galactic Republic, now that the old "keepers of the peace" have disappeared into the annals of history, along with their hated enemies; five years since the day I was born.

Today was my father's funeral, a grave, solemn affair complemented by the dreary weather gracing Cranagan, capital city of the core world --- Mid-Childa. Our entire household had come, understandably aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents from my mother's side, and the few living comrades of my father. The ghastly pale chaplain was a sub-species Arkanian, engineered to be closer to humans, and an old "war buddy" of father's. Our honor guard for the procession were clone troopers, a detachment that had served under my father no less, outfitted with old fashioned autorifles (an eccentricity of my father) for a 17-gun salute (an award from his posthumous promotion).

Clyde Leo Harlaown Le Fay had never been cut out for a desk job. He was too busy saving "the universe" to be bothered with paperwork, and honestly, did not care whose toes he had to step on to get the job done. It was a time of unrest and uncertainty, when people needed heroes more than ever; he had risen to the occasion with no fuss or fanfare, like tying his shoelaces for another savage day in the cosmos. Thus, his actions effectively doomed his career, as he was to never rise higher than Captain, having stepped on one too many toes, but more tragically, perhaps, he had estranged himself from his only son.

His headstone read simply enough:

Admiral Clyde Leo Harlaown Le Fay

T.C. 4623-4653

The Country Boy from Nowhere Who Did

Friend, Comrade, Mentor, Husband, Father, and Hero

The Galaxy is a Poorer place without Him

He will be dearly missed...

Amen.

...Well, that was the obligatory response, anyway. I never got to know my father, though I recall vague glimpses of him at my last birthday party, and some other --- celebrations that I cannot remember the exact reasons for. I had seen plenty of pictures and pictcasts about him, there are even books and documentaries about his exploits of which I have heard quite enough, but was Clyde Harlaown ever a real father to me?

The answer, unfortunately, was "No." I knew him only as a great man to be proud of and to measure my own limits and accomplishments against, his blood and noble spirit flowing through my veins, nurtured by my mother and her very much long lived family. Even so, I held no ounce of resentment or cruel apathy to him, as I watched the mourners file past in the rain one by one to pay their respects.

Mother grieved terribly, huddled against grandmother, Morgan Le Fay, a beauteous platinum-haired centenarian who did not look a day past her fortieth cycle. Grandmother had lost two husbands in her lifetime, both "civil" servants to the people in the line of fire, and arguably had the most experience dealing with "this sort of thing." After the second man, she swore she would never love and certainly not marry again, especially not a "warrior". But considering grandfather Soki, a rather handsome aqua-skinned Iridonian, with only two horns protruding from his forehead and a mane of dark hair, and virtually ageless, was standing vigil beside her, she must have changed her mind.

Eventually the service ended, and our household, the House of Le Fay, boarded the waiting hover limousines and sedans that would take them back our ancestral manor. My father's comrade had been invited to join us for tonight's vigil as well, but politely declined, boarding their own personal speeders as they, too, had their own responsibilities to attend. Just as well, the clone troopers had formed up and marched off, presumably to the next funeral.

The only ones left were myself, mother, grandfather, grandmother, the good chaplain, and the funeral director, granted the latter two stood by a good distance off out of respect.

"That Clyde; always, always I told him that as a warrior, he should prepare better for his death," murmured Soki, his golden eyes alight with nostalgia. Dressed in a black form-fitting battlesuit with full military honors, and a ceremonial power sword buckled at his hip, he cut quite the tall striking figure, even if he was holding up an umbrella in the other hand.

Something akin to a devil watching the passing of his favored rival, methinks.

"Soki, please; do not say such dreadful things," Grandmother Morgan shushed him, brandishing her evil eye for good measure. Her long platinum hair was down in a simple ponytail for a change, instead of her more eccentric styles, and dressed she was in a modest black dress and a veiled hat. Fair skinned and still beautiful, side by side mother and daughter were almost indistinguishable, if it were not for the hair color, and that grandmother bore a diamond-shaped seal on her forehead and cheeks where as my mother was gifted a different pattern.

"He was the most uncommon human I ever had the honor of meeting, and it is just like him to leave so many crying for him at his passing. And the reckless rascal had the nerve to name me and yourself as the executors of his will, in the event his wife is unable to carry it out. Bah, he knew it too how much I hate dealing with legalities."

"Husband, if you keep antagonizing your daughter, I will be forced to see how well your toes hold up against my durasteel reinforced high heels."

"Why, my wife, I have no idea what you mean. I was just remarking on how your son in law brilliantly frakked this entire situation up, leaving my daughter devastated, and my grandson..."

"Soki, enough. We all knew this was a possibility."

"Heroes are not martyrs, and I have half the nerve to piss on the coffin of this sithspit idiot for..."

"Enough, Soki."

"Morgan, the rest of them might be able to accept he made the right decision, but to I --- it was wrong. The Galaxy, his friends, his comrades, his family! ---has no use for dead heroes. How --- how could he have accepted death so easily? That could not have been the Clyde I knew! This empty coffin that is about to join in rest with the earth is a joke, a spectacle for others to ease their egos and laugh."

And lo, my mother began to cry again, as I observed the tense stand off between grandmother and grandfather. Contrary to appearance, my grandmother was in fact a very accomplished magi, and a veteran of more battles than she can count. My grandfather, all the same, was no slouch either, though he possessed no potential as a mage, for he had fought in the war and long before then: a man who lived for battle and honor.

If these two came to blows, it would likely turn into a bloody brawl. I for one should know best, considering both of them saw to my physical education and even taught me a few tricks. Yes, they did want me to have a normal childhood, playing with my cousins, enjoying my ephemeral carefree days.

Problem is, I, Chrono Clyde Harlaown Le Fay, happened to have been born an oddly precocious and serious child, which I imagine you can tell by my tone. I act more like an adult than most of the adults around me, and it is usually myself settling disputes between my "siblings" and taking care of them, even though they were older than me!

Between the hollow coffin, the chilly rain, and the seething adults --- I think it was then that the brilliant, "uncommon" proposal struck me then: one of the many that would change my life, forever, and put me irreversible so on a fantastic journey to the stars. A journey where I would meet a Faithful Scholar, a White Devil, a Black Valkyrie, and many more friends, enemies, lovers, rivals, and so on.

"Mother, Grandmother, Grandfather: I have an announcement to make," I addressed them with all the serious formality a five year old could muster.

As a child, I found it most unusual how whenever I spoke, people honestly listened to what I had to say. In fact, they usually dropped whatever they were doing in barely restrained embarrassment or panic, before eyeballing me savvy-like. I regret to say I lost this talent as I matured for I spoke much more often, undertaking an almost roguish, dastardly, yet respectable persona (to an extent) that was presumably just like my father's...

"A-Ah! Chrono, what is it?" Grandfather replied to me first, a sheepish grin on his face.

My Grandmother gave a weak smile, as she focused her efforts in comforting mother, who calmed down somewhat now to perhaps listen to me as well. Of course, the lack of eye contact from mother did not help me ascertain her intention or mood as her veil hid her eyes from my own. Nevertheless, I was resolute in my purpose and nothing would stop me now.

"My father is dead. He is not here anymore. But in these veins, and in my heart, his blood flows and he lives within me still! I swear to you all here and now, I will quell the maelstrom of the stars, but that raging sea will not be my grave for I shall return here to earth to be by your side, and I will be victorious! Who do you think I am, I wonder?

I am Chrono. I am not my father Clyde. I am myself! The Blue Breaker, Chrono!"

I suppose it was a motivating speech; problem is, I was only five years old then, so I had yet to learn the finer points of public speaking. Thus, I effectively killed the effect by bowing out dryly:

"Please, enroll me into the Battle School tomorrow. I am joining the Bureau."

My grandfather gaped.

My grandmother blushed.

And my mother fainted dead away in tears, much to their horror.

It was quite the spectacle, and I expected to be punished quite so, if the chaplain had not interrupted right then with a helpful word:

"Boy, didn't your grandparents teach you: don't give your mother grief?"

Why yes, they did. Too bad, I forgot about it in the spur of the moment for that one transgression against my mother, Lindy, would haunt for the rest of my natural life. She never, never, ever forgave me for that, which is probably one of the big reasons why she still mothers me like a baby boy to this very day.

Like now, where I'm bound in a straight jacket in the conference of Riot Force Six's headquarters sitting on a couch, and my mother just so happens to be across the coffee table on another couch, sipping tea and being "motherly".

I'm sorry, Mother. No, I'm not getting married yet. All right, all right, I'll call you "Mom", so please, don't cry. No, I'm not in a relationship with anybody, Mom. No, I'm not going to the marriage meeting next Sunday. Mom, I'm only twenty-four, that's too young to be getting married, though I understand Vivio does need a mother as I've taken her into my custody, as my daughter. Yes, I know Nanoha-chin, Fate-chan, and Hayate-chama are right outside the door with Vivio (I swear, she's not my secret love child); Yuuno, Amy, and the Liese girls are concealed behind your couch; Vita, Signum, Shamal are hiding up in the ceiling with Rein II (I promise, she's not my other secret love child); not to mention Riot Force Six, Sister Gracia, Acous, and the whole rest of 'em troublesome lot are parked right outside the windows too.

What are my chances of escaping? A thousand percent sparking.


To be continued...


Author's Notes:

Well, there you have it. Entry 1.1 in all of its glory. Thoughts, feelings, questions: hey, fire away, fellas. Oh, and it should not be hard to pick out the inspirations/fusions implemented into this Alternate Universe. Keyword: The Force and vice-versa. As for pairings, fellas, it's a HAREM effect fic; feel free to support your favorite gal or DUDEtte. I am just trying to make things as entertaining as possible, and still get a kick out of it.

Thank you all for tuning in and remember, I always encourage each and everyone of you to feel free to comment, review, and/or discuss the story. Your comments can really make a difference, I assure you, and if you're up to it, feel free to ring me up on AIM, or even send me an e-mail (although you really don't need to boost my ego too often). You know how to get in touch with the maestro here.

Tsudzuku!