02-24-2011, 11:43 PM
A dry wind brushed against the two as they stood in the wasteland they had created. Certainly, they had done it. They had blasted the Invaders from another world into fine particles of dust. Well, Victoria had, really. Victoria made all of it possible, if for nothing more than her power. Roy had taken her up as a pretty face, a woman to head to convince the people of the revolution. Sigfried had used her as a show of power, a heavy hand to make way for his glorious vision. She had been the battery for his doomsday device and the head of a frontal assault on a full on army of the yellow bastards.
And yet, who was it that they were fighting? The enemy, surely, surely it was the spawn of some devil brood sent from space to destroy the peace and civility that the Earth territories had created. They chose their planets wisely, Namek was fairly defenseless and Mercy was too disjointed to mount their mighty warriors in defense. They had struck quickly and in full force, entrenching themselves across the continent and assaulting pivotal points first. Space Port and the Sky Hook were the first ones to go.
Yet, he had never even spoken to one of the enemy. He didn’t know their language, their agenda, hell, he didn’t even know their race. He took up the mantle of executioner in the name of what? To convince the people of Earth that he really was the champion they had been waiting for? That the war he had led on the planet was real? Well he wasn’t; it was fake. He had not only lied to the people, he had begun to lie to himself.
He had told himself that he was here for the people, to show the support of the Earth on foreign soil and to bring home those men and women who were willing to die for the cause. He had taken warriors - he couldn’t even call them soldiers as they were too fine a specimen - and laid waste to the already ravaged alien world. He had fired an asteroid at them.
He had killed a woman’s one true love. He had dragged a chef onto the battlefield.
“Jarka was shot.” His voice was plain, and he could not bear to watch the look of elation wash away from Victoria’s face. “I left her at a temporary way station when I heard the explosion. She was in a rough way but stable when I left.”
The rain sank into him, chilling him even as the heat radiated from the floor and Victoria’s body. He let the cold in. He wanted to feel it. He cocked his head back towards the building. “Come on back, Vic. We can debrief you, huh?”
With that, a crow fluttered up into the sky and began to soar towards the small, war-torn suburbs just outside the walls of the Port. Victoria bounded after, her very essence crackling in the air as she bound to and fro. Her flesh had already began to seal together, glowing cracks remaining like the faults of an earthquake. The ravaged landscape below smoldered and hissed out to him like the remains of a volcanic eruption. The poor citizens of Ja City would not recover for some time now. That is, the citizens who survived.
An immolated vehicle lay flipped on the side of the street, a tiny trail of smoke still lingering as it rose from the scorched interior. How many hours had the owner worked to earn that car? How many days and nights had they suffered at some desk to pump out the earnings that were required to purchase the latest model of sports car from the big dealers? Was the owner even still alive? What about their children and their lovers? What about the lives that never will be because of the struggle this planet had put up? Maybe the universe would have been a better place if the Invaders had taken over. Benevolent dictators, perhaps. He could never know the answer to these questions.
What about the Invaders? He wondered if they had families in the same sense that humans did. Namekians puked up eggs, so who knows what these guys did. He hadn’t personally killed them with that space rock, but he may as well have. He almost wished he could go back and time and look into their eyes as he killed them. He wanted to empathize with them and feel their pain. It wasn’t fair what he had done to them.
Then again, that’s the nature of war. You want something and so you try to take it, but the other person doesn’t want to give it up. So you send people to take it for you. People who believe in your cause, who believe that you’re doing the right thing, in their name.
Sigfried had sent people to war, too.
The crow wildly flapped its wings as it descended upon the shell of a home that the good Sergeant and his men had taken up post in. Landing upon the window sill, it quirked its tiny black head towards the members of the squad and cawed loudly. As their attentions were drawn by the bird, Victoria sprinted in through a half open door, slamming it into the wall and startling the gunner stationed behind it. Thankfully the man had a cool trigger finger.
“Where is she?” Sigfried stormed through the center of the room and past the Squad Leader. He simply gestured towards the back room and returned his attention to the stillness outside.
Throwing the door open, the light was cast dimly into the dusty chamber that was once a bed room. Skoll and Hati stood on either side of the bed, their eyes cast down. Jarka lay there, still and quiet on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest. Her head was propped up on a blood stained pillow, her eyes sealed. It was as though she was asleep.
Sigfried cast a glance between the brothers, a sense of panic welling up within him. He made his way forward and stood at the side of the bed. Leaning in, he grasped her arm gently and shook it. “Jarka?” he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hey, Jarky… I went and got Vic.” Wetness began to well up in his eyes and he sniffed once firmly. “Jarky?” His fingers dug into her shoulder deeply and he pulled himself in closer. “Jarka?”
Victoria’s form obscured the light of the doorway, but her presence did not disturb Sigfried. “Jarka?” His voice rose slightly, and his hands lay upon her heavily, pushing her into the bed. “Jarka?!” He screamed now, his face flush and wet from tears now. He shook her violently now, her hand slipping from her chest, “Jarka, Kai damn you, ANSWER ME!” His voice cracked and he went on. “ANSWER ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Hati leaned in and touched his shoulders, beginning to whisper some condolence and he tore away from the body. The back of his hand lifted to his mouth as his bloodshot eyes leaked over him. He pushed past Victoria and into the house, his quick steps sweeping him from the place and into the open streets.
“Fuck,” he swore as he paced around in the light of Namek’s suns. “Fuck, man!” His throat was choked by some unseen hand, garbling his voice. “Fuck!” He tossed his hands towards the ground in a fit of uncontrollable emotion. “FUCKING DAMN IT!” His sorrow gave way to rage as he slung his fist forward into a nearby wall, denting his knuckles.
Backing away for a moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes glanced back to the room through the opening he had left from, and once more it struck at his heart. He felt it sink within him, weighing down his body as he moved around. Adrenalin numbed his hands and shook his form uncontrollably. He planted his hands on his hips and drew in another slow breath and exhaling quickly. Wiping the snot and tears away from his face with the back of his hand and then his palms he inhaled once again.
“Okay,” he told himself. “Okay.” He nodded and began to walk back into the structure, the same furious pace that had taken him out leading him back in. He stood across Victoria’s shocked, startled… stalling form and knelt in, looking at her face.
“I’m sorry, Jarka…” He swept a stray hair from her face, wet and sticky from sweat. Her skin was cold now and very, very pale. His hand found its way around a thin metal chain about her neck, and he removed the clasp. He drug out the small crystal which she had worn for the entire time he had known her and tucked it into his palm. “I am so… so sorry.”
He abruptly stood erect and turned away from her, once again finding the need to clean his face. He made his way for the doorway and into the light of the never-ending day of Namek. “Take her body with you. We’re done on this fucking planet.”
And yet, who was it that they were fighting? The enemy, surely, surely it was the spawn of some devil brood sent from space to destroy the peace and civility that the Earth territories had created. They chose their planets wisely, Namek was fairly defenseless and Mercy was too disjointed to mount their mighty warriors in defense. They had struck quickly and in full force, entrenching themselves across the continent and assaulting pivotal points first. Space Port and the Sky Hook were the first ones to go.
Yet, he had never even spoken to one of the enemy. He didn’t know their language, their agenda, hell, he didn’t even know their race. He took up the mantle of executioner in the name of what? To convince the people of Earth that he really was the champion they had been waiting for? That the war he had led on the planet was real? Well he wasn’t; it was fake. He had not only lied to the people, he had begun to lie to himself.
He had told himself that he was here for the people, to show the support of the Earth on foreign soil and to bring home those men and women who were willing to die for the cause. He had taken warriors - he couldn’t even call them soldiers as they were too fine a specimen - and laid waste to the already ravaged alien world. He had fired an asteroid at them.
He had killed a woman’s one true love. He had dragged a chef onto the battlefield.
“Jarka was shot.” His voice was plain, and he could not bear to watch the look of elation wash away from Victoria’s face. “I left her at a temporary way station when I heard the explosion. She was in a rough way but stable when I left.”
The rain sank into him, chilling him even as the heat radiated from the floor and Victoria’s body. He let the cold in. He wanted to feel it. He cocked his head back towards the building. “Come on back, Vic. We can debrief you, huh?”
With that, a crow fluttered up into the sky and began to soar towards the small, war-torn suburbs just outside the walls of the Port. Victoria bounded after, her very essence crackling in the air as she bound to and fro. Her flesh had already began to seal together, glowing cracks remaining like the faults of an earthquake. The ravaged landscape below smoldered and hissed out to him like the remains of a volcanic eruption. The poor citizens of Ja City would not recover for some time now. That is, the citizens who survived.
An immolated vehicle lay flipped on the side of the street, a tiny trail of smoke still lingering as it rose from the scorched interior. How many hours had the owner worked to earn that car? How many days and nights had they suffered at some desk to pump out the earnings that were required to purchase the latest model of sports car from the big dealers? Was the owner even still alive? What about their children and their lovers? What about the lives that never will be because of the struggle this planet had put up? Maybe the universe would have been a better place if the Invaders had taken over. Benevolent dictators, perhaps. He could never know the answer to these questions.
What about the Invaders? He wondered if they had families in the same sense that humans did. Namekians puked up eggs, so who knows what these guys did. He hadn’t personally killed them with that space rock, but he may as well have. He almost wished he could go back and time and look into their eyes as he killed them. He wanted to empathize with them and feel their pain. It wasn’t fair what he had done to them.
Then again, that’s the nature of war. You want something and so you try to take it, but the other person doesn’t want to give it up. So you send people to take it for you. People who believe in your cause, who believe that you’re doing the right thing, in their name.
Sigfried had sent people to war, too.
The crow wildly flapped its wings as it descended upon the shell of a home that the good Sergeant and his men had taken up post in. Landing upon the window sill, it quirked its tiny black head towards the members of the squad and cawed loudly. As their attentions were drawn by the bird, Victoria sprinted in through a half open door, slamming it into the wall and startling the gunner stationed behind it. Thankfully the man had a cool trigger finger.
“Where is she?” Sigfried stormed through the center of the room and past the Squad Leader. He simply gestured towards the back room and returned his attention to the stillness outside.
Throwing the door open, the light was cast dimly into the dusty chamber that was once a bed room. Skoll and Hati stood on either side of the bed, their eyes cast down. Jarka lay there, still and quiet on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest. Her head was propped up on a blood stained pillow, her eyes sealed. It was as though she was asleep.
Sigfried cast a glance between the brothers, a sense of panic welling up within him. He made his way forward and stood at the side of the bed. Leaning in, he grasped her arm gently and shook it. “Jarka?” he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hey, Jarky… I went and got Vic.” Wetness began to well up in his eyes and he sniffed once firmly. “Jarky?” His fingers dug into her shoulder deeply and he pulled himself in closer. “Jarka?”
Victoria’s form obscured the light of the doorway, but her presence did not disturb Sigfried. “Jarka?” His voice rose slightly, and his hands lay upon her heavily, pushing her into the bed. “Jarka?!” He screamed now, his face flush and wet from tears now. He shook her violently now, her hand slipping from her chest, “Jarka, Kai damn you, ANSWER ME!” His voice cracked and he went on. “ANSWER ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
Hati leaned in and touched his shoulders, beginning to whisper some condolence and he tore away from the body. The back of his hand lifted to his mouth as his bloodshot eyes leaked over him. He pushed past Victoria and into the house, his quick steps sweeping him from the place and into the open streets.
“Fuck,” he swore as he paced around in the light of Namek’s suns. “Fuck, man!” His throat was choked by some unseen hand, garbling his voice. “Fuck!” He tossed his hands towards the ground in a fit of uncontrollable emotion. “FUCKING DAMN IT!” His sorrow gave way to rage as he slung his fist forward into a nearby wall, denting his knuckles.
Backing away for a moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes glanced back to the room through the opening he had left from, and once more it struck at his heart. He felt it sink within him, weighing down his body as he moved around. Adrenalin numbed his hands and shook his form uncontrollably. He planted his hands on his hips and drew in another slow breath and exhaling quickly. Wiping the snot and tears away from his face with the back of his hand and then his palms he inhaled once again.
“Okay,” he told himself. “Okay.” He nodded and began to walk back into the structure, the same furious pace that had taken him out leading him back in. He stood across Victoria’s shocked, startled… stalling form and knelt in, looking at her face.
“I’m sorry, Jarka…” He swept a stray hair from her face, wet and sticky from sweat. Her skin was cold now and very, very pale. His hand found its way around a thin metal chain about her neck, and he removed the clasp. He drug out the small crystal which she had worn for the entire time he had known her and tucked it into his palm. “I am so… so sorry.”
He abruptly stood erect and turned away from her, once again finding the need to clean his face. He made his way for the doorway and into the light of the never-ending day of Namek. “Take her body with you. We’re done on this fucking planet.”
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]