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Chapter One:
"Asher? You there?"
"I read you, Seven. Looks like they're moving out. Want to take the lead group, and I'll tag anyone who lags behind?"
"Sure, I mean, those guys, they be leaving fast..."
"So let's MOVE"
Seven's bike kicked into gear, flaring down the side street onto Motgan, the main road.
"Damn, this traffics going to slow us down, boss"
"Pull over them...just watch the feedback from your engines"
"If I do that, they'll know I'm following them"
"So by them, and circle around"
"In this traffic...Jesus."
Asher's bike was already in gear, in the opposite direction.
"Lead, they be moving...I think they saw me"
"Would they recognize you?"
"Maybe. If we are right, and Sarah didn't burn off all the data, then Hastos would have some pictures of me."
"Then come back to the safehouse. This mission is reconnaissance, only checking to see if Hastos is around and setting up everything. Which we've now confirmed. So now we go home... Mission complete."
"You don't want to find out where they're going?"
"If they really did see you, right now they are setting up an ambush. Get going before they catch you, Seven."
"Aye. Returning to base."
Seven's voice was just a touch regretful.
THE THIRD NIGHT an Antigan chronicle by Anatole
"Sir!"
Asher turned around to face the oncoming soldier.
His dark eyes, pale white skin, and shock of blue hair revealed him to be Seven, one of the commandos stationed here with him, on Moliris.
"Yes, commando?"
"Asher, we could have taken those Chilezians. You know we could have. Why'd you make me turn back?"
"Because, we have orders. Whether or not we like those orders is not the point. If Fleet Commander Atrosin says that we do not engage, we do not engage. How clear must I make it to you?"
"No, sir."
Seven's head hung down a little, as his commander continued to berate him about his insolence in questioning their Commander's orders.
Then a minute later, Asher turned, and walked away. Damn kids... they're all alike...
Amalkin's voice is still loud to this day, in Asher's head. Some days, it's so loud that he thinks that suicide would end it so much faster. But those other days, Amalkin is just such a help to me I don't dare speak a word against him....
Seven stepped through that calm steel door, entered his quarters. Commando, even Lieutenant Melee Unit, awards solo quarters. That door slid shut, and Seven let loose.
"BASTERD! WE COULD HAVE TAKEN THEM!" Seven's voice ran hollow, and he punched the wall, the gigantic fist denting the sheet steel. "BASTERD! HOW CAN YOU LET THEM LIVE?"
Asher figured that Seven was back in his quarters, freaking out right now. That boy had temper problems... Asher smiled just a tiny, just a little at that thought. Then the door to Commander Atrosin's office swung open, and he went in.
-------------
Asher's battle-rage consumed him, and he went flying across the room, screaming at the enemies that had menaced Ender. Screaming each step of the way, his bone armor slid out of his body, sheathing his arms, legs, and torso in the tough white bone. While the armoring layers effectively made his inner skeleton worthless for absorbing blows, his opponents should not be alive for long enough to break the outer bony plating. Then, only a few steps away from the first of the nasties, he activated his two blasterpistols, firing at everything even vaguely hostile. One, two, three, and then four disfigured bodies lay heaped around him as he picked the enormous double-sword off the wall and began swinging it around, in a barely controlled manner that appeared fully uncontrolled, yet gored every remaining hostile around him, leaving nothing in his wake save an intimidated friend and dismembered bodies, missing arms, legs, heads, fingers, and more. But mere death was not enough to sate his blood-frenzy, and so he stood there, hacking away at the corpses, throwing blood and parts of the organs everywhere. Only then, when only someone with a good imagination could reconstruct the bodies, did his aggression, the frenzy begin to fade out. The exoskeleton slowly shrank off his body, leaving nothing but a tattered, worn man soaked in the blood of his enemies and a long white sabre, coated in the blood of fallen men. Asher could hear them now, already reaching out to him from the afterlife, grabbing at him. Those soft, quiet voices barely audible, whispering out at the edges of his mind, trying to unravel it. Voices that he could not kill, no matter what weapon he threw against them. Every time, they came closer to finding that loose end, unraveling all those hard-built defenses. Damn those spirits. Why did they not troll on others, pick on the other warriors who had killed so much, even more than he had. Why didn't they choose someone else to fight?
And when that night came, they came for him in the dreams that haunted his non-waking moments.
"Sir? You wanted to see me?"
"Well, yes, Commando Seven. It would appear you did a fair amount of damage to the inside of your quarters yesterday. I want to know why."
"I was, uhm..."
"Venting, Commando?"
"Yes, sir."
"And why were you so angry, Commando?"
"I was displeased with a decision my commanding officer made in a combat situation."
"And you did not confront your superior about it, Commado?"
"I did not want to see my commanding officer about a problem with my commanding officer, sir."
"Understood. Now answer the question."
"No, sir, I did not confront Commander Dales about the incident."
"And why not?"
Silence. Seven knew he didn't have an answer that would please Atrosin.
"Why not, Commando?"
"Because I did not feel the need to, sir."
"And so, instead, you punch a three-inch deep dent through a stainless steel plate? Interesting decision."
Seven's face was pale, looking at the far wall above where Atrosin sat. He was too far gone. Nothing could dig him out of this hole now.
"Commando Seven, do you have anything you wish to say about any issue concerning this conflict?"
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 12-12-2001).)
that is one gigantic title
Nice story. A little akward but nice
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Yeah, this story (and the next one to come up) have rediculously long titles. Anatole, please refrain from making the title some silly little semi-description of the story inside; I have no ability to edit the topic name, so name it something that has something to do with the story, please. "The Third Night" would have worked just fine...
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Nice story Anotole, but like earlier comments the title was a little long. I think the writing for this story was good, the plot was pretty well orgastated and it had room to expand. All in all, a good story.
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March 2001 Dammit!! Plugin Design Director, Eternal Flame Ltd.