Dame's Shorts...

[Dame Vill]

Here ye here ye! I finally got up an urge to put pen to paper and write some short stories (thus the reasoning behind the title ^^; ), hopefully ones that will be eagerly read by the other Gaians here. If you wish to comment on anything posted, feel free to post here or you can Pm me as well. Constructive criticism is appreciated by the way.

I hope you all enjoy!  

[Dame Vill]

Here's the first bit of the first of Dame's Shorts. I hope you all enjoy! ^^

The rain was falling fast and hard as white-hot bolts of lightning sundered the angry, cloud filled skies above. It was black as pitch and the heavy rain obscured any sight out past a couple yards, perfect weather for what she had in mind. Pale blue eyes slid shut slowly as cold water cascaded down flush cheeks that were plastered with matching dark red hair, it had been a pain to get out here and now all she could do was wait and hope that the sound of her pounding heart didn’t give her away. The woman’s grey flight suit clung to her toned body wetly, reminding her of a contest an old friend had once talked her into. For the first time that dark, stormy night, a slight smile crept upon clammy lips. Remembrance, such a beautiful thing, in times of war the enemy could take many things from a person, but their memories were never among them. These and a hope for a better, less bleak, future were all some soldiers needed to continue a fight.

Or start one…

She stood there, leaned up against the concrete building, in silence as the sky cracked and boomed overhead and the water came crashing down.

Waiting…

Waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. She waited for a very long time, waited for what seemed like hours to crawl by. Eventually they did, and by this time the lightning had died down considerably but the rain refused to let up in its attempt to drown the whole world. Through the harsh sound of the downpour, a rhythmic splashing came to strained ears.

Running…

Someone in boots was running this way, was it him? Her soaked head poked out from the darkened alley just enough to glance down the morass that was once a dirt road to see the form of a person in either engineer’s coveralls or a pilot’s flight suit, jogging towards her position from the direction of the barracks a mile away. Sharp blue eyes studied the person momentarily, their gait as they dodged puddles when possible, athletic. The sidearm strapped to their left thigh, definitely not an engineer. As well as the silver emblem on the collar flashing with the occasional streak of lightning. All marks of an officer in the elite OZ Mobile Suit corps.

Not just any officer however, none of them had a reason to be out here this late, except for him. It was him, it had to be as he was the only officer on site who was a southpaw like herself. ‘Good, he got the message after all,’ the woman thought with some relief while ducking back into the deeper shadows. Soon his labored breathing could be heard as well, and quickly his pace slowed to a cautious walk as he approached her hiding spot.

Deep rolling thunder drowned out his calls at first so he tried again, “Sarg-” Crackle-BOOM “-e you out here?” Rain poured off the smooth, dark skin of his shaven head. Hefting the flight helmet in his right hand, the stout black man advanced deeper into the alley in search of the mysterious sergeant who had left a note smelling of perfume inside his office. His platoon had four sergeants, two of which were female and of those there was but one he had his eyes upon.

He’d tried to figure out sergeant Bell when she had first transferred into the platoon, she was a nice girl of about eighteen, friendly, cheerful, dedicated. Not one you would generally think of as a fighter. Lately however, she’d been seeing the base psychiatrist and the reports he’d been getting were that she may be mentally ill, in the extreme. Though the doctor wasn’t sure yet, so he was supposed to run a final examination on her today and she was most likely getting discharged as a result. That had been on the lieutenant’s mind for most of the day, in fact he had possibly missed his secrete rendezvous with sgt. Ling. She was the other female squad leader under his command and the flowery handwriting on the note had to be hers.

“Sergeant Ling!” he called her name once more before tapping the ‘light’ button on his wrist watch, 0312, he was almost three and a half hours late, of course she wasn’t here anymore. Disapointed with himself for not managing his time better and just about to leave, he saw motion out at the very edges of his peripheral vision. Turning halfway he could just make out a female’s shape clothed in a soaked flight suit slowly emerge from the deep shadows, her face still obscured. The sight brought fire to his loins, the way the fabric clung to her small breasts and petite hips, “Ling, I’m so sorry about being late, I-” His voice was cut off by a soft snick that was oddly audible over a sudden thunder clap. What little light filtered into the alley glinted brightly off a long, wicked blade. His heart stopped at the sight and brown eyes wandered up from the huge knife, across the fit physique and finally stopped at a pair of beautiful, cold blue eyes set in a pale, emotionless face framed by hair that glinted a deep, blood red in the intermittent lightning strikes.

Bell, not Ling.

He’d always thought that an interesting surname for someone, and whenever he spoke with her or read the name he always thought of the sound of church bells peeling across a pale blue winter sky. Even now as he stared into the empty mask he’d seen her don dozens of times during battle, cold, calculating, hollow, he thought of church bells.

Suddenly his mind snapped back to reality and he felt a scream rising in his throat, but before it had a chance to escape, there was another flash of electricity in the distance and the flicker of gleaming steel as it bit into his throat just below his left ear and exited just below his right. He had seen her get into mock knife fights several times with the larger men in the platoon and had been amazed at the speed and skill demonstrated each time.

Unable to breathe and stunned by the rapid blow, the solid man fell backwards into a pile of debris. Scatterbrained and confused by the events and searing pain coursing up the back of his neck, the lieutenant scrambled off the pile and tried to get away on his hands and knees not having the strength to stand upright. The woman leaped upon his back, knocking him to the ground and bringing a moist whoosh of air as it escaped out his new smile. Easily pinning the weakened man with her slight weight, she raised the bloody knife high into the air and with both hands brought it down at the base of his skull, the man went limp under her almost immediately.

 

[Dame Vill]

Well, here's another of my Shorts, but slightly un-short... And for that I apologize, also for the long wait. ^^;

Anyway, enjoy! ^^

Beautiful long locks of chestnut hair framed her mother’s livid face, accentuating the angry pout that her father had fallen for so many years ago, “Mommy, why are you mad?” Tiny hands reached up the side of the woman’s dress grasping for her clenching and unclenching fists. The woman seemed not to hear her child as she stared at the screen in the store display, the news was on and a crowd had gathered round to hear the live broadcast. Giving up on trying to get her mother’s attention, the girl turned to see what was so riveting, a man was hunkered beside an APC with several soldiers and his camera man in the middle of a shootout in the streets of a colony in the L2 cluster. On the screen, one of the soldiers leaned out from behind the tank to return fire and catches a round sending him backwards off camera. Next the wail of a rocket was heard just before the tracked vehicle’s considerable bulk was knocked sideways a few inches and dirt and rocks came raining down on the men near the vehicle in immense quantities. The APC’s turret swiveled to the sound of whining servos and pressurizing pneumatic systems before the main gun opened up in controlled bursts.

Barely heard over the sounds of the fighting the reporter spoke finally, “This is Robert Cairman coming to you live from what is now a blasted war zone,” he waves a hand indicating their surroundings and the cameraman pans away from him and the APC to show a ruined commercial district in what was once a major city. The hollow pinging sound of bullets ricocheting off an armored hull brings the camera back around to the reporter, “I’m embedded with the 10th Platoon of the 72ed armored regiment of the CDF and it appears as though ESA soldiers are attacking colonies all over the cluster in a surprise assault intent on bringing the colonies back under Earth rule, and the standing military is having a tough time halting their advance.” He visibly cringes as more bullets ping off the vehicle.

Attempting to regain his shattered nerves he continued hesitantly, “I’ve received reports that the enemy have brought some sort of super weapon with them, but these remain unconfirmed at this time.” His attention shifted from the camera lens to the man holding it, “Jack, try to get a shot of the enemy soldier’s positions up the street please, let’s show the folks at home what their brave defenders are up against.” The cameraman turned around and edged up behind a soldier who was leaning out from behind the cover provided by the armored vehicle firing his rifle wildly at an alleyway opening half a block away.

As the soldier looked down to reload, the camera zooms in over his shoulder and a helmeted man in urban camo leaned out from the torn up corner and launches something in a high arc towards the vehicle. The camera zooms out and pans up crazily, trying to follow the object before a flash of light and the sound of an explosion are seen on the TV screen in the store display. The grenade sends the cameraman flying and he rolls to a stop some ten feet away. Somehow the camera survives both the explosion and the impact and lands nearby after somersaulting dizzyingly through the air. Still facing towards the APC, the unblinking eye captures and transmits the upside-down images of the reporter sprinting past screaming, “Oh God Jack! Are you okay? Jack listen to me, you need to hang on, Medic!”

The image vibrated slightly a few times, each one growing more intense than the last one before finally a monstrous humanoid walking tank stepped into view partially and opens up on the APC with a huge machine gun. A brilliant explosion blinds the camera momentarily and by the time the smoke clears the strange vehicle is gone. The reporter continues to scream at his partner off camera to hold on as the news station cuts the live feed finally. The next thing on the TV screen is the news channel’s anchorwoman informing the audience that the station was experiencing some ‘technical’ difficulties and that they would keep the viewers informed of any updates from the area of the fighting.

Soon after the crowd dispersed grumbling about the Alliance having gone too far this time. Everyone left except for the woman who continued to stand there staring at the monitor in utter disbelief as the news went to a commercial break, again the worried child’s voice fell on deaf ears, “Mommy what’s wrong?” Finally snapping out of her rage, the woman’s brown eyes softened as she looked down at her daughter, “Honey, we need to go home, mommy needs to talk to your papa.” Her daughter nodded solemnly, “Mommy, do we have to take the train again?” Her mother answered as she hefted the child with a slight grunt, “Yes dear, it’s the fastest way home.”

Her daughter pouted cutely, “But it’s too loud.”

“I know pumpkin, but we have to.” Her voice was soft and soothing as she briskly walked for the tram station some four blocks away.

A man’s voice called out from behind the two, “Hey miss!” Almost deciding to ignore the man since they were in such a hurry, the woman stopped and half turned to the sound. A man waved from the driver’s window of a little yellow pickup truck, “Aren’t you Edgar Bell’s wife?” She nodded and he said eagerly, “Well c’mon then, I’ll give you a ride. It’s faster than the tram if that’s where you were headed.” The woman looked at her daughter sternly when she cheered at the news of not ridding the train after all.

Getting in the passenger seat and setting her daughter on her lap, the woman asked, “So where do you know my husband from?” The man took up an easy, conversational tone, “Oh me and Eddie go way back, we served in the same squad during the last war. In fact he invited me to your wedding but I got lost on the way there and didn’t make it in time.” She got a perplexed look on her face, “That does sound familiar, I remember him cursing someone under his breath afterwards because they hadn’t shown up.” A wide grin split’s the man’s rough face, “Yup, that’d be me.”

They drove along in quiet for the most part, making polite conversation now and then as the picturesque countryside swept past. Soon the little girl started to bounce excitedly sending her red locks jouncing to and fro, “Mommy mommy look!” The woman flinched as the little girl jabbed a stubby finger out the passenger window, “Ow Naomi! Stop bouncing,” her stern tone stilled the youngster and she looked to where the girl had been pointing, “your butt’s boney.”

They had pulled off the highway not too long ago and the country road they were on had risen up above the large thoroughfare a good deal. Thus looking down upon it, her eyes captured the sight of a huge column of tanks, APCs, and transport trucks rumbling down the highway towards a rising pillar of oily black smoke in the distance. “Isn’t that Jamesport?” the man asked as he deftly guided the little pickup further up the road.

The woman couldn’t tear her gaze away, “Yes…” Her voice took on an earnest quality, “Please hurry, I must get home to speak with my husband.” She knew she was almost there but seemed to be fidgeting more than her daughter as she watched the evil smoke continue to rise into the clear blue sky while the thunder of distant explosions came to her ears sounding like the angry beat of war drums heralding the coming tides of conflict, strife, . Jamesport was one of the largest spaceports in the colony and it was no wonder why the Alliance had marked it as one of their primary targets, it would allow them to land overwhelming numbers of soldiers which would make bringing the colony under Alliance control so much easier.

Finally the horrid sight disappeared behind a stand of trees as the little yellow truck pulled off the road and down into a large circular drive before stopping in front of a charming Victorian-styled home. As the man engaged the parking brake, the woman dismounted hastily and rushed for the door calling for her husband while the man placed the giggling girl on his shoulders and followed the woman.

Inside he could hear her moving from room to room calling desperately for her beloved spouse and getting no response. Setting the squirming girl down, he perused the assorted family photos along the luxurious stone hearth that dominated one wall in the large den while waiting for the woman to return. He knew she wouldn’t find her husband here, he knew this because Edgar himself had requested that he find his wife and bring her here for safekeeping. Once he had informed her of what was happening, he was to meet up with Eddie and some other men who were currently locating the local militia house, they were going to help fight these bloodthirsty bastards from Earth.

Eventually she tired of her search and found the man in one of the leather reclining chairs near the huge, open bay window apparently napping in the warm breeze. She cleared her throat noisily before speaking, “Sir, what did you say your name was?” He looked over lazily without sitting up, “I never di-” Her voice cracked once as she interrupted him, “I know, I was just being polite.” She was on the verge of tears, she already knew where her husband was without asking the man. Of course that’s why Bell had married her in the first place, she was smart and she knew how to take care of herself.

“Listen ma’am,” he halted her next words with his own, “I’m gonna cut the bullshit here, pardon my abrasive language, we knew they were going to attack. We’ve known for months now, so has the military, but they decided to sit around on their thumbs hopping that diplomacy would prevent conflict.” She went to a beautiful teak liquor cabinet and poured a bourbon colored liquid in a crystal glass as he spoke, “We knew it wouldn’t work, why negotiate with a small government when you can stomp them into the ground and there’s nobody to stop you? Besides, everybody knows that the best diplomats are soldiers and that the most effective-” he was cut short by the crystal glass shattering against his the wall near his head spilling alcohol all over him. The woman glared at him, her face turning livid for the second time in as many hours, “I don’t want to hear your talk of warmongering in this house!” She was practically screaming at him, “Get out!” She pointed angrily towards the front door, “and when next you see my husband, and I know you will, tell him that he has a family here to take care of now.”

He stood solemnly, “Aye ma’am, I’ll pass the word along, but I doubt he’ll pay much heed, he‘s got revenge on his mind.” With that he left the house, closing the front door behind him softly. She could hear his booted feet walk across the porch and down the front steps to the truck, she turned out the lights in the room and watched from the window as the truck pulled out and headed towards Jamesport. A soft voice from behind startled her and she spun around sending locks of hair and the hem of her dress flying in a graceful arc.

“Mommy, why did the man leave? And where’s papa, we were supposed to go riding today.” The woman walked her daughter over to a chair and sat her on her lap, “Listen honey, papa’s gone off to do some stuff and I don’t know when he’ll be back, but how about I take you riding later instead, how’s that sound?” Her daughter nodded and she sent the little redhead on her way with a pat on the bottom, “Now go play and I’ll fix an afternoon snack.”

“Okay mommy.” The little girl ran off and after the woman was certain she was outside, she broke down crying softly into a pillow resting on the arm of the chair.