Creative Writing Moments in Time

‘Moments in Time’ are a series of short, fictional stories designed to describe an emotion, thought, noun or otherwise in a single moment of time. One of my goals has been to break away from some of the usual writing Clichés that tell us what ‘Love’ really is, or what ‘Justice’ really means. Often times I’ll try to warp the original meaning of the word shedding fresh light on a darker side of catchphrases we take for granted. Other times I’ll simply try to elaborate and catch the true spirit of the word. In each post, with the exception of excerpts from my own writing, I will try my best to describe the word, sense or feeling without using the actual word as much as possible. The posts themselves are simply short stories with the single word in the description

THIS IS MY FIRST AND LAST WARNING: NOT ALL OF MY TALES ARE MEANT FOR ALL READERS. A FEW STORIES CONTAIN CONTENT WHICH SOME MAY FIND OFFENSIVE. I am not making an idle warning here. I will be cutting loose and using my full writing potential as the full depths of my inspiration dictate, however dark or angst filled as they may seem. ALL OF MY WORKS WILL COINCIDE WITH THE FORUM RULES AS DICTATED BY BLOODBERRY AND CLOUD. As of this post I have no intention, nor plans of posting up anything of a sexual nature, or anything exceedingly gory or violent. This warning is meant to scare away anyone who might be offended by what I plan on posting in the future. As I stated above I will offer no more warnings in my writing. I guarantee the tale ‘Justice’ will throw a few people for a bender. You continue to read my work at your own discretion.

I do encourage that if you do read anything you leave a brief post critiquing my work. A simple “I like this, I don’t like this” is fine. I want to improve in the areas I’m weakest in and continue in the areas people seem to feel I’m the strongest at. Any words of advice you give would be well appreciated. Readers are also encouraged to post their own fictional ‘Moments in Time’ stories if they so desire, I only ask that they please follow the standards set by my writing.

The world is neither black and white. That which we associate with the greatest of good can be twisted for evil intent and purpose. That which clouds even the darkest of nightmares can in turn create an aura of goodness and welfare, changing lives forever. It’s my intention to blur the lines between good and evil and black and white as best I can. If I stir up some controversy then all the better. At least I’ll get people thinking a little bit more outside the box and expand their views on life. That is my hope and ultimate purpose behind ‘Moments in Time’.

I pray, do enjoy.

~Wertitis
Pen name: The Dark Phoenix

 

Respite

Respite.


With a click the barrel cracked along its access and split in two. The well greased hinge underneath didn’t make a sound as the breach loader exposed her two loading ports. As the heavy shotgun split there was a tiny ‘ping’ as both of the spent shells were automatically ejected. They rose into the air in gentle arcs, their empty cavities still releasing faint wisps of smoke. The empty barrels, on the other hand, belched forth thick clouds which rose in tight, acrid curls. The pungent, sulfuric odors stung his nose. With a snort he blew the fumes away and ran the back of his hand along his forehead.

With a gentle click he slid a fresh shell into place. All around him he could hear their screams echoing in the walls. His game was up. They were hot on his trail. Plucking the second shell out from in between his teeth he slipped it into the other port. Snapping his wrist the twin barrel clicked shut, and with a gentle pull from his thumb the two hammers were pulled back, readying the weapon.

Leaning against the solid, metal wall he closed his eyes and began to catch his breath. All around shadows stretched, clawing away what little light the dim lanterns overhead afforded. A fluorescent bulb burned behind a single fan directly overhead of him. The shadows of the fan, slowly spinning on its axis, danced about his exhausted figure. His clothes hung in loose folds about his thin frame. Here and there rips and tears had formed; more than a few were stained red. A pistol had been roughly shoved into his belt, partially hidden under a lose jacket. He could feel a few spare clips crammed into the pockets along his pants. His jacket carried at least a dozen more shells.

It wasn’t very far to the armory now. The rest of the survivors would be there if they were anywhere. They had a massive cache of weapons stored up in case of a contaminant outbreak such as this.

‘Well…’ he thought to himself as he began to dig through his pockets. ‘Maybe not an outbreak quite like this.’

Pulling out a fag he raised it to his lips. Things had gotten completely out of hand. There had to have been hundreds of them running around. The bastards were vicious. They were smart, learning from the mistakes of others. There was no telling how much longer he would be able to hold them off.

With a flick of his thumb a small tongue of fire appeared in the palm of his hand. Raising it up to his face he lit the cigarette. Tucking the lighter away he took a slow drag. This place had become a nightmare. Corpses littered the compound grounds. Blood had flown more freely than water, the storm drains outside were choked with it. Little bastards…

Closing his eyes he let the intoxicating smoke of the small cigarette do its work. He could feel his stomach settling, his muscles beginning to relax. The adrenaline in his system began to thin. He could feel his heart slowly winding down in his chest. He needed a clear head. He needed…

The walls about him began to shudder, snapping him out of his reverie. They were coming. Their endless screams were getting closer. They were almost deafening. The tight, cramped corridors weren’t the best place to face off with them, but it was better than the wide open spaces where they could flank. Hoisting the twinbarrel he spat the cigarette on the ground. Giving it a customary stamp he stepped out from under the light. It was time to get moving. He could hear the pitter patter of their feet now. They were almost on top of him.

Gripping his salvation in his hands he turned and began to run.

 

Hope: Part 1

[Excerpted from Mitsurugi: The Beautiful Sword by The Dark Phoenix]

Skitter.

“We’re almost there!! We have to run a little faster! I know you can do it!!”

Filthy Rats… wasn’t that what Walker called them? Vermin… no other name was fit to describe the little terrors that consumed the underground base. They came in swarms and washed over the defenses like a tidal wave. Nothing could stop them. Everyone who tried to make a stand was brutally slaughtered. Hunting in packs with a savagery that was unequalled they were the fear of the swarm. Their strength lay in numbers and in numbers they were not lacking.

“Don’t give up on me now. We can make it!”

Skitter. Abominations… Half mechanical, half organic, about the size of a large house cat with large round bodies and short stubby legs… They were relentless. Through the use of chemical therapy and electrodes implanted in key portions of their tiny little brains their usual docile and friendly demeanors were wiped away, replaced with a mindless urge to hunt and kill. They were the effective tools used by the swarm to flush people in hiding out and to wipe out isolated ground units. It was impossible to make a stand against them. One only has so many bullets… and could only run so far…

“Just ahead, Honey. It’s just ahead!!”

Thank god they didn’t have to run very far anymore. They were here! Re-enforcements. They were on the surface. They sent a brief radio message down to the lower levels of the complex pleading for any survivors to climb to upwards. They were dusting off soon. The swarm had completely overrun the Ino-Duleii defense station. They had to move out, now.

“Don’t black out now!! Please stay with me!!”

Ryan Hodson’s head rolled upwards and he tried to open his eyes. Blood streamed down his face burning his tired oculars. All over he felt weak. The cut on the top of his head throbbed with each heartbeat making his head swim and his consciousness fade. His arm was slung over the shoulder of a young woman. Providing strength for the both of them she half carried the injured man through the dark complex. The lights had long since died, not doubt the work of the Skitter. All around the frenzied cries and the mechanical whirrings of their artificial parts filled the air, driving chills up and down the backs of the two survivors. Their mindless gibbering and enraged squealing filled the thick frosted air, becoming almost tangible. They were closing in. They could smell the blood of their prey. The pack was in full hunt once again.

“Stay with me! Just stay with me Ryan! Please!!”

Half stumbling he raised his head and struggled to open his eyes. Dangling in his left hand was the only reason he was still alive. A pistol, with half of a clip remaining, glittered in the dim light that filled the underground laboratory. Those few shots held them back… Those few bullets kept the entirety of the pack from washing over him and ripping him to shreds.

“Nina…” His voice was weak, and his breath came in ragged gasps. The woman only shushed him and urged him along further.

“Quiet now. You don’t have the strength to talk. You barely have the strength to walk.”

Moving around an upturned desk and under a fallen ventilation duct they quickly made their way across the destroyed office. All around bodies stripped of their flesh lay scattered. Blood coated the walls like paint. Smeared handprints smudged the walls, while tiny, crimson paw prints dotted the tile flooring like Dalmatian’s spots.

The entire complex was a disaster. Tables and files were over turned and papers were scattered everywhere. The drop ceilings had been torn out and cables and lighting fixtures hung loosely from above. Ventilation ducts had holes torn into them and the insulating material lay scattered everywhere. Sheets of ice covered the tile in areas where the firefighting fixtures had given away and frozen. With the atmospheric processors offline, frozen air was all that blew through the vents now.

Bullet holes from small arms fire and the occasional Skitter corpse depicted where the last stands had been placed. Nearby each and every one of these areas there were a mass of bodies as stripped to the bone as the rest of the facility. Neither of them saw a single Skitter. Despite the deafening cries and the mechanical sounds not a single creature was seen.

Swallowing hard Ryan forced his eyes to focus and he found strength to make his legs work properly again.

“I’m sorry Nina… It was all my fault…”

The woman, his one and only wife, didn’t say anything as they stumbled over a stripped corpse of one of their fallen co-workers.

“You wanted to leave…” He continued. “But I was stubborn. I wanted to stay for the project…”

Shaking her head the woman would hear no more.

“Shhh. There’s nothing to be sorry for Ryan. I’ve stood behind you on every decision you’ve ever made. I wouldn’t have remained if I hadn’t trusted you.”

He turned his head and looked over at the woman holding him up. Her beautiful cerulean hair curled gently down her back. In the half-light of the broken complex she’d never seemed more beautiful to him.

“But the Skitter…”

“I’m not afraid of the Skitter.” Her face was resolute. “The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you. I’m here because I love you, Ryan. It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. We’re stuck here, in the present, and I’m going to give you all the strength I have to help you make it through this.”

Fighting off the nausea and the dizziness Ryan smiled gently.

“You’ve always been doing that for me Nina…”

Lifting him over a file cabinet that had been turned on its side the woman didn’t say anymore. Ryan tightened his grip around her and began to carry himself once again. His voice, tempered by her devotion towards him, gained strength.

“Thank you…”

 

Hope: Part 2

Any further talk was abruptly cut off by the sound of crunching glass. Turning their heads they caught a glimpse of something throwing itself at the frosted window in one of the side offices. The thick glass spiderwebbed as the object that hit it fell below out of sight of the window. Taking frantic hold of her husband, Nina turned and began to move away as fast as she could pull him. Staring at the glass Ryan’s gaze held onto the window a few moments longer. A shadow filled the frosted window once more and half a second later the glass that had protected them shattered outwards as something heavy came through.

For Ryan time seemed to slow down. When the shadow filled the window his breath caught in his throat. At first the glass seemed to bulge as the cracks seemed to expand. Then slowly the broken shards began to blow outward. As the shattered crystals gave away the object that broke them apart came into view. At first all he saw was a flash of teal hidden behind the jagged fragments, but as the glass came apart more and more of the creature came into view. As the first of the frozen shards struck the ground so did the nimble creature. Alighting one foot on the hard tile floor, and then the others the Skitter landed without so much as a sliding stop. Without pause the creature hissed as it raised its head.

In an instant reality picked back up and a rain of broken glass fell about the hunter. A scream caught itself in Ryan’s throat as he glimpsed one of the demons that were hunting them down. The Skitter was like a creature out of a nightmare. Half of its face seemed like it was once a cute and kindly little creature. Its soft teal fur fell away to a shorter tan colored hair that also extended to its round underbelly. The little creature seemed almost comical, with its cute little beady eye and soft, pug nose. If it weren’t for the fangs that grew out from its tiny mouth at all angles, and the mechanical extrusions it would have appeared almost harmless…

On its side was a bare patch of fur where a strange looking mechanical device had been attached the the Skitter’s flesh and bone. Tubes of all sorts of sizes came out from this device. A few seemed to loop around and plug back into to some ports along the edge of the mechanism, while others attached themselves to the creature’s legs. Most, however, seemed to plug directly into a socket on the animal’s neck. A yellowish fluid could be seen pumping through those tubes applying the proper chemicals necessary to keep the Skitter alive and functioning. One of the plugs appeared to attach itself to a bore that was drilled directly into the skull of the frantic little killer.

Its left eye was gone. A series of mechanical plates reconstructed that side of the Skitter’s face and an artificial optical camera took the eye’s place. The plates appeared to be drilled right into place, while a flurry of wires came out from the camera and plugged themselves into a data slot just behind the Skitter’s left ear. It was a terrible fusion of flesh and blood with metal and machinery. It was an ungodly creation never meant to have ever existed. Any memories the creature might have once had of its peaceful days before the implantations and chemical therapies had either been long forgotten, or wiped clean from the slate of the critter’s mind. All that remained was the vicious blood hunter the remaining survivors saw now.

Hearing her husband’s cries Nina ceased their running and flew into action. The Skitter broke into a frantic scramble and began to dash along the slick tile floor. Whirling around Nina grabbed the pistol still in Ryan’s hands and quickly raised it. The nightmare had already cleared half of the distance between its prey and with a terrible squeal it leaped into the air.

As quick as the creature was Nina was faster. Lining up her sights she paused only a moment before pulling the trigger. With an audible explosion the pistol went off and half an instant later the front half of the Skitter exploded into ribbons of flesh and fragments of bone. The rear portion hit the ground a few feet away from them and gave a brief, nervous twitch before lying still.

Tucking the pistol into her belt Nina took hold of Ryan once more and began to run. This time, fueled by adrenaline, the man was able to keep up.

“Run Ryan!” she screamed driving him forward. “Run as fast as your legs will carry you!! We’re almost to the elevator!!”

“How much further?”

Turning down a hallway relief filled Nina’s voice.

“Just around the corner!! The lobby’s right there!!”

Wiping the blood from his eyes Ryan dug deep within himself. Tightening his grip around his wife he pushed himself as harder than he thought he was able to. They were almost there!! They were almost to safety!! Behind them the sounds of the approaching Skitter became almost mountainous. The sounds of their mindless screaming and the mechanical noises from their prosthetic body parts were almost becoming too much to bear. They couldn’t have been more than a few hundred feet behind them now!!

Turning a corner the hall suddenly opened up revealing their long sought lobby. Coming to a near stop the color in Nina’s face fell away. Blinking curiously Ryan stared at what stood before them now. He wasn’t really seeing this, was he?

“…Nina?”

It was a blockade… or at least what was left of a blockade. Desks, cabinets, chairs and whatever else that had been found went into erecting this sturdy barrier between the elevators and the rest of the office. Corpses stripped of their flesh lay scattered about while blood coated the tile floor. It was obvious what had happened. They were trying to hold back the Skitter. They must have been coming out of one of the elevator shafts. The survivors were trying to hold them back by building this barricade… but in the end it didn’t do them any good… The Skitter still made it through… Now, before the two survivors, the wall once built to keep the Skitter back now stood between them and their escape.

Nina shook her head. It couldn’t be… After all this only to be stopped a few short feet of their destination?! Taking hold of his wife Ryan scowled. It wasn’t an illusion, was it? He was actually seeing this…

“A barricade…”

 

Hope: Part 3

Turning around Nina raised her pistol. They were out of time. There was nowhere to run anymore. They were trapped… ironically, like rats. The noises were growing closer. Looking over the blockade Ryan suddenly straightened. Taking hold of Nina he whirled her around and pointed.

“How’d the Skitter get through this?!”

She looked at him and blinked.

“What do you mean?”

Pointing toward the base of the wall erected before them he began to pull her forward.

“The Skitter got through this wall!! Look!!”

Along the floor Nina finally saw and her eyes went wide. There was a hole. The little critters managed to break a small hole into the base of the barricade and pour through that. It was no bigger than a foot and a half around, but there it was, as real as the wall itself. Taking hold of her husband they moved toward their only avenue of escape.

“You first!” She said crouching near the floor. Bending over Ryan crawled on all fours and began to move through the tiny aperture. It was a tight fit, but it appeared to work. Ahead he could see a few shafts of light. Picking up his pace he dropped his belly and began to crawl as quickly as he could.

“Nina?!” He called out behind him. Her voice carried forward a second later.

“I’m right behind you! Keep going!!”

The noise of the Skitter was deafening now. They were right on top of them! Moving as frantically as he could Ryan pulled himself through the hole and toward the shafts of light. Seeing the end he reached out and took hold of the sides. With a painful grunt he pulled himself forward. The hole fell away and he found himself bathed in the cool yellow light that led him through the barricade. It was from the elevator, no more than a few feet away. Her door was wide open and the light poured out like the light of heaven, drawing the man toward it.

Squirming out as quickly as he could he rose to his feet and stumbled into it. Whirling around he fell against the back wall and slid to the floor. His head was spinning now. The cut along his skull ached more painfully than before. Shaking away the lightheadedness he opened his eyes and stared back at the barricade.

“Nina!!”

His wife was halfway out of the hole squirming to get her way out.

“Push the button and hold the door!” She screamed. “Hurry!”

Scrambling forward Ryan hit the button for the surface and placed his hand on the door preventing it from closing.

“Hurry Nina!!” he screamed. “They’re coming!!”

The noise was tremendous. They couldn’t have been any further back than the hallway, at least that was what Ryan hoped.

Clawing her way out of the hole Nina grunted as she finally pulled herself free. Ryan swallowed as he held out his hand. Reaching out he called out to his wife once more. The woman called his name back and reached for his. Slowly their hands came together. Leaning back Ryan began to pull.

Suddenly Nina let out a shrill cry. Ryan felt her grip pull away from his. His eyes shot open and he scrambled to gain a better grasp.

“Nina!!”

Her legs were still half way into the hole. It took only an instant to figure out what was going on. Nina screamed once again and felt herself being pulled. Numerous pairs of little claws buried themselves into her legs and were dragging the woman away. Their game was up.

“RYAN!!”

“NINA!!” He screamed bracing his legs against a fallen file cabinet. Still halfway inside the elevator the doors would not close. Finding as much strength as he could muster the man ground his teeth together and pulled. He was not going to lose her! Not now!! Not this way!!

“Nina, hold on!!” He cried out. Tears formed themselves in the corners of her eyes as the countless mass behind her began to pull ferociously. She could feel their claws tearing the flesh along her legs as they struggled to rip her away from her husband.

“Ryan…” She gasped. Her grip was slipping.

“No!!” Putting every ounce of strength he had into his hands Ryan pulled, but it was no use. Inch by fractional inch she was slipping away.

“NINA!!” he screamed. Tears streamed their way down her cheeks. She was slipping away…

“Ryan.”

One last time, husband and wife met each other’s eyes. Seeing her tears only drove Ryan to his.

“Nina, no!!”

The monstrous howl of the frenzied Skitters had become enough to make even the ground quake. It was a victory cheer. Their prey was only seconds away… It was inevitable.

With a broken scream Ryan felt her grasp break away from his. Still pushing against the cabinet he was immediately thrown back into the elevator, out of her reach. Slamming against the back wall his eyes shot open and he saw one last glimpse of the woman he loved. At the same time, now freed from the obstruction, the two elevator doors slowly began to close.

Nina was digging her hands uselessly into the tile. With a sudden jerk all but her head and arms were pulled back into the tunnel. She could see him in the elevator as the two doors slowly began to close. With tears streaming down her face she raised her voice and called out one last time. Scrambling for the door Ryan answered her call.

“RYAN!!”

“NINA!!!”

There was another jerk, and just as the doors of the elevator slammed shut he caught one last glimpse of her arms disappearing into the darkness of the barricade.

“NIINAAA!!! NIIIIINAAAAAAA!!!”


Although he would never know it, Ryan was fortunate that the doors shut when they did, for he was spared the terrible screams the woman he loved made as the vicious creatures set themselves upon her.

 

Hope: Part 4

The frozen wind along with the dry, coarse sand whipped against him as he staggered across the compound. Almost numbly Ryan had crawled from the open doors of the elevator and out into the barren surface of the defense outpost. It was nighttime and only the pale lights of the station and the brilliant flashes of lighting from the windstorm that howled above were the only things keeping the pitch black away.

Slowly he staggered his way away from the bunker door where he’d emerged. The landing pad was only a few hundred feet to the south… he could see the lights cutting through the thick haze the sandstorm created. The dropships would be there. He would be able to escape there… Alone…

He almost fell twice. Yet somehow the wounded man managed to stay on his feet. Nina was gone. She wasn’t ever going to come back. He’d lost her… He’d lost her in the most terrible way… She was right in his arms. She had been right there. If only he’d moved just a little faster through the tunnel… If only he’d seen that hole just a little bit sooner… If only he hadn’t dragged her down while they ran… If only he’d left when she begged him too… If only… If only…

From in front of him there was an explosion of light and fire and Ryan’s head snapped up. Through the wind and sand he could see a spaceship rising up from the terrain before him.

The dropship…

Coming to a stop Ryan stared upwards as the ship began to rise into the sky. Fires from her landing thrusters lit up the horizon. He could see the ship’s silhouette as she released the last of her mooring lines. Tucking in her landing gear she slowly swiveled in place and turned.

Ryan’s hands hung limply at his sides. So this was it then, wasn’t it… He was too late anyway… The dropship was leaving without him… Despite everything he’d been through… despite Nina… he was trapped… they hadn’t been fast enough… HE hadn’t been fast enough… He’d been too slow. That was twice now… Twice he’d simply been too late… He-

As the ship passed by overhead his thoughts came to an abrupt stop. From the impenetrable darkness above there came a brilliant flash of light. A beam of solid energy seemed to form out of nowhere and struck the drop ship. All at once the lifeboat burst into flames. She ceased her upwards travel and a following explosion caused her to tumble back down toward the surface. Ryan took a step back and shielded his eyes as the Genevian drop ship struck the rough terrain. An explosion filled the air and in an instant he felt a wave of heat wash past him kicking up sand and other debris.

Falling to the ground he did his best to shield himself from the heat and the explosion. A few moments later, as the fires began to burn away and the debris from the broken ship ceased falling he raised his head and stared almost unbelieving. The dropship lay in a trench she’d carved out with her own hull as she crashed. Fires stretched upwards reaching for the black heavens above. They were a pale blue color, the same color as burning I.D. fluid. A foul odor wafted toward him. The dropship was dead…

Rising to his feet he turned his eyes to the heavens. The truth finally dawned into him. He didn’t need to look at his watch to tell that in reality it was still daytime… The Ing’Gao had blackened the skies… They’d stolen away the sun. Narrowing his eyes he caught sight of a ripple moving amongst the clouds. It traveled as if no more than a wraith…

It was an Ing’Gao cruiser, hiding in the darkness above. Although he couldn’t see them, Ryan was sure there were more up there. The Ino-Duleii defense outpost was completely and totally overrun. It was over…

Overhead lighting flashes lit up the surrounding terrain. The sand whipped about his body and the wind pulled and tugged at his form. Keeping his eyes to the sky Ryan watched as inevitability circled overhead seeking out new targets to destroy… Seeking out new dropships to ruthlessly slaughter. Slowly bringing his hands together he felt the gold ring placed tightly over his finger… his wedding band…

“I’m coming Nina…”

Still staring to the skies he didn’t notice the packs of Skitter racing across the landscape, circling him, closing in for the kill…

For Geneva, the end had begun.

 

Love: Part One

~

“They’re coming, Charles…

~

His words still echoed in his ears. This was the end. After everything they had been through… How could he have allowed himself to get into this situation.

How could he have allowed her to get into this situation…

He still sat at his desk. The lights were off, the shutters closed against the light outside. Nobody seemed to have any clue of what was about to happen. It was as it should have been. Mass panic would have gripped the facility of the truth were to be leaked. Ten thousand people would immediately be thrown into panic and turmoil if they had even an inkling of what was about to befall them.

In his hands he held a single action revolver. One bullet at a time he quietly slipped them into their respective chambers. His mouth was as dry as silt. His stomach hurt. The knowledge alone pained him more than anything. For the first time in many years his cups were empty. The strong liquor had finally been tucked away. If these were their last moments, he wanted to have full control over himself and all his actions.

Those words still shook him to the very bone.

~

“I’m sorry, Charles. I really am.”



“How long have you known?”

“I’ve just received word on my end. The enemy is furious, they’re out for blood.”

“Because of Jennifer?”

“…Yes.”

“Alex,” Charles gently held the bridge of his nose as the news began to sink. “Who did she assassinate?”

Alex, a man with short hair speckled in grey and white, shook his head upon the two-way monitor in the office.

“You know I can’t tell you, Charles.”

“We’re going to die Alex.” Charles eyes suddenly began to blaze and he sat up. “If my daughter and I are going to be killed then I want to know what we did the last time you sent her out!!”

“Charles… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” Rising to his feet Charles clenched his fists and began to shout. “You’re sorry?! God-Dammit Alex!! Ever since I started working under you all you’ve ever done is feed us excuses, lies and bullshit!! For ten years I’ve endured your politics because I saw our future, our salvation in my child! I was willing to look past all your flimsy mistakes and pointed misdirection because Jennifer offered a hope for the greater good. She was our greatest asset.”

Ripping a glass lose from his desk Charles turned his back to the two-way monitor and stormed over to a cabinet. With a slam he threw the doors open and reached inside. Pulling the stopper free on a crystal bottle he poured an amber colored liquid into the small glass. His hands were shaking and unsteady, his features bitter.

“Charles, Everything we’ve ever done has been in her best interests. I’ve always had your daughter’s welfare in mind when-”

He fell silent when the small glass of liquor was thrown across the room, shattering upon the far wall. Whirling around Charles faced the monitor once again. What Alex saw stunned him into complete silence. The fury upon his friend’s face was gone. Instead his eyes, his mouth, his sunken features conveyed an immutable sense of pain. He had never before seen him like this. In an instant, he had broken Alex’s heart.

“We took away her childhood, Alex.” His voice had become soft, weak. “We took away her chance at a normal life. We smothered her under our militaristic bullshit for the last ten years. We changed her from a small, innocent child to a cold, killing machine. How many lives has she taken? Her first job was almost six years ago. How many men has she killed since then?”

Walking over to his chair he pulled it out from the desk and slumped down into it. Raising his hand he brought it up, over his eyes.

“If either of us really cared about her, about her best interests, then we would have scrapped the program as soon as word of it first came around.”

“We didn’t have a choice, Charles.” Alex said quietly. “Why do you think you’re wife was killed? Why do you think you gained custody of her? If you refused they would have simply eliminated you and given her to someone else who would’ve cooperated. Of course you had her best interests in mind. Better you create the monster, than someone else.”

“She’s not a monster…” Charles voice had simply dropped. It was almost inaudible. “She’s my daughter. She always will be…”

For a moment neither of the two men said a word. Charles sat with his face cupped in his hands, completely still, almost as if in death. Alex watched mutely from his position upon the monitor. The news was unbearable. Both of the men in the room knew what it meant, and both of them were terrified. Both of them cared deeply for the child they had so forever changed. Her time had finally come, and the father was going to have to pay for the sins as well.

“…It was Ill’Sek Najul.” Alex finally said. “He was their high priest in this region, the one commanding their forces.”

“Oh God…” Charles said moving his hand from his tear stained eyes to his mouth. His gaze seemed to drift off into the distance as the full weight of Alex’s words hit home.

“We needed him dead so that we could seize control of Belthazar. It was a key enemy resource center. His forces would have stopped us cold and extended this war for another thirty years. We had the opportunity and we couldn’t miss it. It was vital to our success. I had no idea the remnants of their fleet would retaliate so quickly, or with such precision.”

“How much time, Alex.” Charles said, finally collecting himself. “How long until they reach our orbit?”

“…Mother predicts that you have eight hours before they arrive.”

The broken man sitting in the office chair could only shake his head.
“…Just enough time for me to regret every decision I have ever made in my life.”

“Charles…” For Alex, it hurt more than anything to report this last piece of news. “SecNav spy photos have determined that they’re bringing Aesop.”

Raising his head Charles met the eyes of the man upon the monitor. Horror had suddenly begun to fill his gaze.

“…What?”

“The Aesop… They’re bringing her into orbit. They want Jennifer alive.”

A fear worse than the knowledge of death overtook Charles. ‘The Aesop’ was a siege vessel designed to incapacitate inhabitants of entire planets without killing them. Using principles similar to an EMP, the Aesop released a shockwave which shut the body down for a limited period of time, rendering the victim helpless and unconscious. This allowed the invading forces to land and occupy the desired world with little to no bloodshed. On planets rich with beneficial cultures and supplies this offered an opportunity for the invading army to establish themselves without terribly interrupting the production of said supplies, giving them in instant tactical advantage in that area.

However this time the Aesop would not be used to pacify a planet for their resources. Serril IX was a planet of dust with no real usable resources, supplies or inhabitants. They were coming for one reason alone- to capture the assassin of their great leader.

Alex could only shake his head.

“We’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest this time…” He paused. “Command has ordered me to terminate Jennifer’s life.”

Eyes wide with terror and disbelief Charles simply sat in his seat taking in the painful news, one sentence at a time.

“She knows too much, Charles.” Alex sighed. “If they get their hands on her they will get all the information they’ll ever need one way or another. Once they have what they need you can be rest assured that death will be the last thing they’ll ever give her. For the rest of her life they will torment and destroy her. You know their methods. You’ve seen their prisons. Death will never come for her… not until they’ve had their fill.”

~

 

Love: Part Two

~

Locking the cylinder shut, Charles set the revolver down upon the table amongst the clutter and confusion. He would only need two bullets. By now they were only an hour out, by Mother’s prediction. There was only an hour left before hell incarnate descended upon this barren world.

Almost distantly he heard the front door to their home open and then shut. A single voice called up from the floor below.

“Dad? Are you home?”

~

“I’m not going to order her death, Charles. As her father, I’m letting you make that decision.”

“You bastard…” He choked in reply. “You don’t want the responsibility of her life to rest upon your hands. You want me to make that choice because you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself.”

~

Her voice drifted up from the floor below. There was a clatter of glass as she began to dig through the cupboards for something to drink.

“I saw your car parked in the garage. That’s a pretty bad scratch along the side. Are you going to take it in to Amos’? I heard him talking with a few of the guys about it. He wanted to fix it. I think I managed to talk his price down a little bit.” She giggled. “I think he believes that he owes me a favor for last month.”

~

“…Charles.”

“Alex…” He began to sob. “No, Alex, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that. I… I’m grateful…for everything.”

“Charles…” The man’s voice had grown soft over the course of their conversation. Now it too had begun to fill with emotion. “Forget the orders. Do what you feel is right. Her life is in your hands…”

~

There was a soft knock upon his door. The knob turned and a sudden shaft of light appeared, cutting through the darkness of the office like a knife. A slender silhouette appeared.

“What are you doing here in the dark?” She asked closing the door behind her. Walking over to a window she began to adjust the blinds. In an instant the room was filled with a warm, gentle light.

~

“…I just wish there was more I could do for you. The closest Light Ship is still ten hours out.”

“No…” Charles whispered. “You’ve done enough for me…”

~

Walking over to the other set of shades Jennifer pulled them open, revealing the sixteen year old’s soft features. Her young frame was accented by her slim arms and legs and her gentle curves. She moved with a grace that was highly uncommon amongst those who had been trained as she was in the art of killing. Despite her attitude on the battlefield she was kind and warm here, safely at home. As he looked upon her, and her long, deep, raven hair, he could still see the tiny little child before everything had begun.

“I know you don’t approve…” She smiled out of the corner of her eye. “…But I think I met someone I like today. His name is Alan. He works as a specialist in the Third Regiment.”

Turning her back to him she stared out at the bright afternoon sun and smiled. “I know what you’re going to say, but he’s a soldier too, just like me. Just once I’d like to give something like that a try. I…” She paused. Her father could almost sense the blush racing across her face. “…I still don’t even know what it’s like to kiss someone.”

~

“I just… Alex.” He raised his head and stared into the two-way monitor. The haunted look Charles gave him settled upon the heart of the man, remaining with him for rest of his life. “Alex, I don’t know if I can do it…”

~

“I promise I won’t let it get in the way of my training or of any of my missions! You won’t even know I’m going out with him. I know the lectures and I promise I won’t do anything stupid. It’s just that I really like him and I wanna try out something new, right? We’re not going to be in this war for much longer, are we? I think we should plan for things after all the fighting is done.”

…He could still see that button nose and those large, glassy eyes that seemed to love the world so much. He could still see her beaming smile… the one that stretched across her face lighting up the room. He remembered when she laughed and cried, and all the times she’d gotten into trouble, all the times she’d tried her hardest to do her best. He could still see her, beautiful… innocent…

Reaching to his desk his hands closed around the revolver, and with a great effort he lifted it from the table top. It had become the heaviest thing he’d ever carried. Inch by painful inch it ascended until, finally, it was pointed at his most precious object in the entire room.

Suddenly turning around she gave him a hopeful smile.

“So, what do you think?”

~

“Charles…” Alex stared down upon his friend, a boundless sadness embedded into his features. “You need to do the right thing… You need to be strong. For her sake, Charles. For Jennifer’s sake.”

~

Almost at once that smile vanished. Her eyes focused on the barrel of the revolver pointed directly at her. For a brief moment her father could see fear flickering in her eyes. His mouth had become as dry as the sands outside. Deep within himself he felt something dying. Something precious and irreplaceable. She was his daughter. Even if she was an assassin. Even if he was the one responsible for sending her down this path… for damming her like this… She was his only child.

His heart and soul.

~

“Charles… Do you love her?”

~

“Daddy…” Her voice was hushed… muted in the warm office air. “What’s with the gun?”

 

Damn you love to write. I have finished Respite for now.

It was quite well. It took a bit to understand the first paragraph. I have never fired a gun. Other then that very nice. I will work on the others. I want to finish that long short story fanfic first. Well over half way done now.

 

Choice: Part 1

“Leave me and run...”

He arched his back as another wave coursed through him. He could feel his body screaming, tearing against his bonds. The current felt like liquid fire coursing through his veins. A searing white light filled his vision and for a moment all he could think about was the blinding pain. It rippled through his body locking his joints and pulling his muscles.

Just as suddenly as it came, it vanished. All that was left was the searing heat. He could feel the sweat evaporating off his body. His breath came out in ragged gasps. Dimly, he could hear his assailant speaking as he adjusted the settings in his control panel. His ears were ringing too loudly for him to make out what exactly he was saying. The world swam as his vision began to correct itself.

“I guess... I am a rookie after all...”

Suddenly it came back once again. The blinding fire. He could feel the searing heat washing over him in waves once again. His muscles seemed to lose control. They tightened beyond his control. His jaw locked itself into place, his molars grinding against one another. The fire filled his frame from head to toe. Deep within his chest he could feel his heart beginning to seize. It felt like it was being placed in a vice. Like someone was squeezing the jaws around it tighter …and tighter …and tighter.

With a rush the violent forced passed through him once more and he was left bare. Sagging against his bonds it was all he could do to breathe. His heart unsteadily resumed its beating deep within his chest. Each compression sent a dull throb of pain through his body. The skin in contact with his shackles throbbed and burned. The flesh itself was beginning to be burnt away. There wasn’t much more he would be able to withstand. Once more… maybe twice?

Someone took hold of his face gave him a sharp slap. As a hand cupped his chin and held it up his eyes came open and began to focus unsteadily. He found himself staring into the graying features of his assailant. The older man scoffed.

“You’re as strong as the stories say.” He said cocking his head slightly. “But how much more do you think you can handle?”

Letting go he turned his back and began to walk back to his control panel. The man’s head fell back to his chest as a spasmodic wave passed through his body. It wasn’t the current, it was his muscles trying to recover from the shock. Such a pain… He’d never felt anything quite like this before.

“Are you going to try and be a hero? You can only resist so long. I can guarantee you the next round will not be as pleasant as the previous two. We’re already well past five hundred volts. I’ve never gone past six.” Turning his head he smiled, the thick moustache curling in a wicked grin. “What do you think?”

Turning a knob he began to tap several commands into the screen. He did everything with this left hand- His right arm simply ended in a bandaged stump. Finishing quickly he returned over to where his victim hung and shook his head. His voice barely pierced the ringing in the injured man’s ears.

“You can give up now. I won’t tell any one. Just tell me what I want to know. The girl’s life for your own, what do you say? Either way I’ll get the information I need.”

Sagging his head, the man upon the torture device simply hung. Before he could even begin to formulate an answer a soldier entered the room and threw the graying man a salute.

“Ocelot, sir. The woman is prepped in cell number three.”

“Good.” He smiled in return. “Get her ready, she’s going to take his spot shortly.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Hanging from his bonds a flurry of thoughts went through the younger victim’s mind. Visions from only a few hours ago… Has it only been that long? It felt like… ages…

“Just give up.” Ocelot’s face twisted in mock pity. “When the pain becomes too great to bear just tell me what I want to know and your suffering will end.”

The false look of pity quickly faded. His face hardened and his eyes began to glitter in anticipation. “However if you do so… the girl’s life is mine.”

All he had to do was give up and this would all end. She… would die… but he would live.

He would live.

“I promised... I wouldn't slow you down! I... I... I can still help... I want to help you!”

His thoughts continued to drift back as the temptation began to rise. Her voice came back… her cries of pain…

“I was a fool, I wanted to be a soldier…”

Laying in her own blood… Begging him to shoot her… Not because she wanted to die…

“But war is ugly...”

…But because she didn’t want to hold him back.

With the suddenness of a thunder crack the pain exploded through him once again. Violent cords of electrical bolts passed through his body burning him from the inside out. This time he was unable to hold back his voice. His scream ripped forth from this throat until his lungs had no more air to release. Dimly, he realized he couldn’t breathe in anymore, the muscles in his chest were frozen.

“There's nothing glamorous about it.”

Tears had filled those eyes. He remembered them running down the side of her face, melting the snow beneath her. Her legs were useless underneath her. Her arm limp. Her ragged voice echoing off the spacious walls towering above either side of her…

The blinding white in his eyes began to boil black. His ears screamed in a deafening shriek. The very skin on his body seemed to curl under the immense pain and heat. So violent was the force that washed through him that he didn’t notice when his fingers began to dig into the electrified steel of his shackles beginning to break his nails off.

“Snake, please!”

Even amidst her pain she still found the strength to turn her head and meet his eyes one last time. Even in hopelessness she managed to find courage.

“Save yourself!”

At that very moment, shackled to the device he very well could have. The temptation to cry out, to give in to the pain became a monster. A black creature rising up from the depths of his heart. His own instinct told him to give in. His own survival was paramount, was it not? Even she wanted him to save himself. Even she wanted him to live… Isn’t that what she said?

The creature took hold of his mind and began to scream. She didn’t want him to die for her sake. She wanted him to live. She wanted him to survive… Give up… Give in to the pain. She would die… but at least he would be able to keep her final wish… Just give Ocelot the information…

“Go on living…”

The electricity died away. With a sucking gasp his lungs inflated once again. In an instant he found himself choking. The mucus in his windpipe had been reduced to the consistency of water. Coughing and choking he began to spit up blood. His muscles quivered in the aftermath while his chest throbbed like a thirty ton weight had been placed upon it.

“Save yourself.” Ocelot approached one last time. “Tell me.”

Raising his head, his eyes stared up at the lights overhead. Their beams almost burned his blurry vision. Give up… Give in… The monster clawing at his mind… whispering into his ear. Just let go… Save yourself… Ever so slowly his eyes began to close.

 

Choice: Part 2

His lips began to move and faint sound emanated from him.

“…Nnn… give up… onnnh…”

The old man’s features began to twist into a grin.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Before he knew it his mouth moved beyond his control. He raised his voice and spoke.

“…Don’t… give up… on people…”

Furrowing his eyebrows Ocelot took half a step back.

“What?”

The young man’s eyes snapped back open as the memory came back, as vivid and as real as if he were actually there once again. The smells of blood and concrete filled his nostrils, and the howl of the wind down the long tunnel echoed in his ears. He could see her eyes, smiling at him. Hurt like she was… she was still smiling…

“…and don't give up on people!”

Those were her words, not his. He remembered the chill of the wind that suddenly sprung up at that moment. The cold shook him down to his very core, biting through his sneak suit as if it wasn’t even there.

Yet she lay still. Her body didn’t have enough strength left to quiver. He remembered the fear that rose up when he realized this. The terror that manifested itself within him. She was going to die… If he didn’t do something… she was going to die.

“Go on living… and don’t give up on people!”

Her eyes changed then. The pain seemed to fade as her smile softened. It was as if she too had realized she was at death’s doorstep. …As if the futility of clinging to her own life had been laid bare before her.

“Don’t forget about me…”

The blood that ran from her arm and legs was nothing compared to the tears that fell from her eyes at that very moment. At that exact moment in time, more than anything, more than the bite of the cold, more than the fear of the sniper waiting for him to rush out to her, more than he had ever wanted anything before in his life…

He wanted to save her.

It was an emotion that felt very foreign. He’d saved lives before simply because that was what the mission called for. They were people who trusted their lives to him and he carried them out of duty.

…But this. This was something that arose from deep, deep within him, from his very core. His heart, his very being yearned, begged for him to take action… To save her life.

To save someone else’s life because… he wanted too… needed too…

Hanging upon the torture table his eyes came back into focus. As they did so, his fists began to curl themselves into little balls.

‘I won’t…’ His thoughts began to echo as he raised his head and closed his eyes. ‘I won’t give up on you.’

Opening them he gazed at Ocelot square in the face. For a moment the two locked gazes.

‘I won’t forget!’

Suddenly his resolved returned. The emotions he felt out there in the bitter cold came back as strong as ever. In an instant the black, bitter monster clawing at his thoughts ceased to exist. It vanished without even a single parting scream. Her life was still in his hands. Her life… Meryl…

Before Ocelot could respond the man cleared his throat, gathering the blood and watered down mucus into his mouth. Snapping his head forward he spat the vile substance straight out, catching his torturer straight in the face.

Stumbling backwards Ocelot gave a howl of surprise and began to claw the foul mixture from his eyes.

“I see.” He snarled raising his eyes. “I should expect nothing less.”

Moving over to his panel he pressed a button. In an instant several guards came in and took up positions on either side of him.

“Take this one away.” He said rubbing a handkerchief across his features. “We’ll continue this later.”

As the shackles released the man fell forward into the arms of his capturers. He was barely strong enough to hold his head up. As they drug him from the chamber he motioned to a third guard.

“Bring the girl down in an hour.”

“Yes, sir!” he saluted in reply.

Turning away Ocelot moved to the bathroom to wash up.



Stepping from the torture chamber, Ocelot adjusted his belt as one of the guards came running up. The girl proved to be quite an enjoyable subject. She had a strong will and a fighter’s spirit. She had a high tolerance for pain, as well, among other things. He could see why the infamous Snake had taken such a liking to her…

“Sir!” The guard shouted, saluting as he approached. “Sir, it’s Snake!!”

“What is it?” Ocelot turned.

“He, he’s gone, sir! He escaped!!”

“Mmm.” Turning his head the old man began to stroke his moustache with his only hand. “It was bound to happen. Do they know where he went?”

“There’s been reports of gunfire in the Communications Tower.”

“Hmph!” He began to smile. So he was still heading for the hangar… Interesting.

Whirling about on his heels Ocelot began to swiftly stride away.

“Take care of the girl.” He motioned to the room he’d just exited.

Cracking the door the soldier took a quick peek inside. Quickly retracting his head he found he wasn’t able to suppress the shudder traveling down his spine.

“D-Do you want me to kill her, sir?” He asked swallowing.

Pausing, Ocelot turned. For a moment his eyes locked onto the door of her chamber as his thoughts milled about in his mind. His eyes narrowed and for a moment a scowl passed across his face. Snorting he raised his hand and motioned.

“No. Unhook her and take her to the cells. She might be useful later.”

Striding away the old man placed his hand on the revolver in his belt and sighed. A deal was a deal.

 

Stand Alone

His head swirled, like a whirlpool had formed within the confines of his skull. He felt himself falling, tumbling away. The ground had become liquid, no longer supporting his weight, no longer providing a firm surface for him to hold himself up upon. His arms and legs had become numb, their joints no longer able to support any weight. Was he being held down? Had someone tied weights to his hands? They were so heavy...

Through the numbing haze he could see images. They filtered through the wash appearing like wraiths, briefly flickering before his eyes before fading back into the nether. They were moments in the past, moments long gone. He could recognize a voice, drifting across the expanse as if lost.

'Hehe, Okay master...'

That voice...

'Wow... Look up there. They're so bright. Why...'

The voice brought with it a comforting feeling, a gentle warmth that washed over him like rain. Smiling he began to remember. That voice... that girl...

All his research, three lifetimes worth, brought together under one creation. One magnificent being. He had broken the line that had so solidly separated living and machine, breathing life into a creature that could think, feel and act all on her own.

From the moment she hatched, she had begun to learn. How to walk using her own legs, how to speak, how to use the world around her... Like caring for a baby he had been there guiding her, teaching her. Pouring his life, his love into her, molding her, shaping her...

Like a real person she had learned to, to act, to think, to feel. Unlike the rest, she actually grew. Her little body gained size and mass, and she became an intriguing young woman. She looked so much like everyone else, no one could tell that she was... different. Her smile, her attitude, what she had become, was so natural that no one ever knew she wasn't like them.

No... Not until they found his lab... his research.

Her body was so soft, so defenseless, he needed to protect her. They wanted her... To use her to fuel their own ends. They wanted to see how he had created her. How to create more... How to create twisted replicas... things for war. She was lithe and agile, she could repair herself given time. This was something never before seen. Something that made her invaluable in combat...

They had run... but not far enough. They found them- They...

He sent her away, told her to run. He could not save them both, there was no way. She was not built for combat. He needed her safe and happy. He wanted her far away, living the kind of life she deserved. Just 'living'... Just...

'Master...'

He could hear her whispering to her, her voice was so soft and gentle.

'Master...'

It was drawing him... Pulling him... He could feel himself rising from the whirlpool, rising from the nether...

"Master..."

She seemed so distant... Drawing near... Drawing-


With a snap his eyes came open. All around him destruction reigned. The home they had built together was consumed by flames. The thick tongues of fire raked upwards, clawing at the night sky. All around broken rubble lay strewn about, thick chunks of concrete ripped out of the ground by all the fighting.

In an instant his memories came back to him. He had been fighting, driving them back. He had killed most of them, but the omni-mech… He couldn't stop it. It was too powerful. The worse he had done was crack its armor, exposing the sensitive circuitry inside. But then... Darkness... Then...

He should be dead... What happened, why wasn't-

"Master..."

Raising his head, a crippling shock rippled through his frame. Standing between him and Omni-Mech, rose her... His creation... His child...

Her right hand supported a heavy carbine, its strap wrapped around her neck, the magazine long since spent. Her left arm hung limply at her side, broken. All over her body scores of cuts bled thick crimson rivulets down her body. Her skin had become pale, her brow moist. Her once full and vibrant hair hung in limp locks, soiled by dirt, dust and perspiration. Looking over her shoulder she smiled softly.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't leave you..."

Her voice rolled like silk across his ears, yet each word stung worse than razor wire. Fighting to prop himself up, he realized that several of his servo's along his back had been damaged. He wouldn't be able to stand again until they were repaired.

"I-Illia..." He groaned, the circuitry powering vocal cords failing as well.

Her sad smile, ripped through him like a bullet, shattering his heart in an instant.

"I hope you won't be too mad. I know I disobeyed what you told me..."

Thick rivers of salt water began to stream downwards from her eyes. When ever she was distressed she would shed them; A strange byproduct of her emotive engineering. He had called them 'tears'. Gripping the carbine tightly with her good hand, he could see her lip quivering. Her emotions poured forth through her features, revealing everything to him.

"I hope you think well of me. I didn't want to see you deactivated. I didn't want you to go away forever."

Forcing himself up he raised his arm. The skin had been torn away from his fingers revealing the metallic bone underneath. She was even softer than he was, it was a miracle she was still alive. Her body was comprised of completely different elements. She was a creation...

A creature constructed from carbon, rather than silicon...

The exact opposite of everyone else...

He watched her release the carbine, the strap of the weapon remaining around her neck, and reach into her pocket. What she pulled out sent a chill down his spine. It was a grenade, an EMP. The Omni-Mech had shielding against it, she was not. While she wasn't driven by the same electrical impulses as the Omni-Mech was, there was no telling what the EMP would do to her. It had never been tested. The combat mecha would be unharmed, but she...

"Illia, no!" He cried out. The Omni-Mech, confused at her show of affection for her master, stood by almost dumbly. Its orders were to capture her alive, however she was fighting back. This wasn't like any of the other creatures that had been constructed. She didn't run. She wasn't cornered, yet she was standing against it. She was defying what they had come to call 'instinct'. Nowhere in all its logic protocols could it even begin to grasp the significance of this. ...Could she be self aware?

Looking over her shoulder once again, she smiled at her master, her creator, for the last time.

"Please remember me kindly Master..."

Looping her thumb through the pin she pulled it free. With an audible 'ping' the handle flew away arming the grenade... Beginning the countdown.

"It's going to be Ok. After all... I'm only a machine, right?"

Leaning her body forward, began to sprint. Her legs pounding against the ground she charged the Omni-Mech closing the distance faster than either of them were prepared for. Caught by surprise the battle droid had only a moment to react before she was upon him. Holding the grenade tightly in her hand she gave a shrill cry, forcing it into the opening in the armor her master had created. Closing her eyes she held it in place, while the machine above her began to twist up in reaction. Her master would be safe... The shockwave would be contained under the Omni-Mech's deflective armor. At this, despite her tears, she began to smile.

"Goodbye... My Master."

With a thin ping, and short whine, the grenade detonated in her hand... the EMP concussion washing over hard mechanical form of the terrible Omni-Mech, as well as through her own, soft, flesh and blood body.

 

Gosh..wertitis, this is some awesome stuff. but put this " instead of ' looks better!