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| Episode 3: Mission Accepted; In which an evaluation is failed, and Automail Man destroys a train | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 22 2017, 04:46 PM (16 Views) | |
| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 04:46 PM Post #1 |
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“Come on… Please work..” echoed Sherman’s tired, desperate voice as he sat at his desk. His hair was a complete mess, and his clothes worn and dirtied from weeks of not being washed. Sitting before him on his desk was a strange plant with a green stem and blue leaves in a pot. The pot itself was surrounded my the Major’s research notes and old texts that he had been studying for the last several months. This was the last day Sherman had before his evaluation as a State Alchemist, and the man had not managed to come up with any meaningful break throughs to present. He knew he was only minutes away from a visit from his evaluator, and knew full well if he didn’t have anything to present he’d lose his state license. “Alright… Transmute.” He said, clapping his hands together and touching down on the transmutation circle he had drawn around the potted plant. His thin framed reading glasses came alive with a shining blue light as it reflected the electrical sparks from his work. The plant before him twisted and changed, the leaves changing from blue to red and black spots. The plant rose up, growing and blooming, but ultimate began to wilt and turn brown. The focused stare on Sherman’s face contorted and changed to a solid frown, his eyes growing with anger. “DAMNIT!” He yelled furiously, sweeping his arm across the table and knocking the dead plant and old texts to floor. Gripping his head tightly he leaned over his desk, almost tearing at his hair in frustration. “Why can’t I get this to work..” After a short break of self loathing he sat back up, staring down at the now cracked pot and dead plant, the soil already covering the floor. All his hard work. Everything from the last nine years gone to waste. It had been almost a decade since Sherman had joined the military as a State Alchemist specializing in Bio-Alchemy, using his state funding to help pay for his medical degree. And even after all this time he had not made enough progress to make Central believe his work was worth the money. A knock came to Sherman’s door, a feeling of dread filling the alchemist as he looked up from his desk. His time had run out. But he didn’t move from his seat. Silently hoping that the knock at the door had been his imagination. But those hopes were quickly dashed as the same sound came to his ears. “No…” he muttered under his breath, hands shaking as he rose up from his seat, adjusting his attire. Moving to his door to stopped, hand on the knob, his heavy, sleepless eyes settled heavily on the old wooden frame of his door. “Who… Who is it…?” He asked hesitantly, hoping against all hope that it was someone else knocking at his door. “It’s me, Colonel Freeman. I’m here for your inspection Doctor Greyhound.” Came a voice on the other side of the door. “A-alright…” Sherman replied, slowly turning the knob and opening up wide to reveal a tall, balding old man in a state alchemist’s uniform, heavily decorated to denote his rank and status. The old alchemist wasted no time in entering Sherman’s home, barring no request for entrance of even a passing glance of politeness. And without so much as a nod of recognition made his way for Sherman’s private study. Coming into the small lab in Sherman’s basement the older man surveyed the room, scattered books and documents on various shelves and tables, and the remains of Sherman’s last failed experiment strewn across the floor. Judging eyes taking in every small detail. “Present me with your findings.” He said coldly, raising a clipboard up to his chest and writing down notes with his free hand. “O-oh! Of course, sir…” Sherman said, rushing in front of the man and coming to his knees, trying desperately to clean up his mess. “I am so sorry about this! You know how it is right? Sometimes you just get so caught up in research you forget to clean…” he said, flashing a forced smile up toward his superior as he let out a soft chuckle. Yet the man did not grin, at seem to express any emotion beyond an indifferent loathing as he finished writing on his notepad and looked back up. “Right… Right… Documents.” Sherman said defeatedly, grabbing a bunch of papers and shuffling them back into his documentation folder. Rising Sherman turned around, handing the old man the documents who in turn snatched them up without even a moment’s wait. “Very good. Of course I don’t have to tell you what will become of you should your research be found inadequate.” The older man responded in a cold, somewhat threatening tone. “I… I know… Just.. If you could give me a little more time…” “You had more than enough time Doctor. Unless you can prove to be contributory to the Central’s scientific community your government contract will be terminated.” The old man responded, eyes narrowing into a mild glare. Sherman stopped, eyes growing weary with concern and fear. His voice dropping low. “I understand…” The man turned about, starting for the exit on his way to leave, yet he stopped, his back turned to Sherman as he spoke. “Of course… If you’d be willing to accept my proposition for a transfer… Your research may yet receive the funding it needs…” Sherman looked up, staring at the back of Colonel Freeman’s head with a mild surprise. “I… Can’t accept that. I’m happy working under Colonel Evans…” Freeman let out a long, drawn out sigh, silently shaking his head before starting back out. Before he exited the door he spoke up one last time. “Your loyalty to your Colonel is commendable, but foolish. You’re only hurting yourself by refusing my offer Doctor Greyhound.” He said, before exiting and slamming the door behind him. Sherman stared absently as the closed door, his face expressionless and empty for a long while. His eyes blinking only as he heard the sound of the Colonel’s car start up and drive off. “… DAMMNIT!” Sherman roared, grabbing a nearby book and hurling it into the oaken door. Whirling around he brought his fist up hard, slamming into the wall opposite the door with a thunderous BANG. The wall cracking and caving in around his now bloodied fist. Out of breath, tired, and worn, Sherman dug his fist back out, his other hand moving to his tired eyes as he walked off toward the bedroom, lifting a large, brown bottle from a nearby counter as he walked. Steps followed by an ebsent minded tune through whistling, echoed through the hallways of the central. Short figure of a man almost jumped on every step with wide grin and closed eyes dramatizing his expression. He had just left his resignation along with the last mission at hand, which was something he never thought to be possible. After retrieving his casual clothing and some ammo for his handgun, the man had quickly changed and was now making his way out from the cursed building. Waiting at the main gate, Zacharty Comwell, the soon-to-br-ex major of state alchemists, saw a familiar figure waiting. The loyal companion had yet again found itws way to his care. Kneeling down to scratch the wolf behind the ear, he smiled even more wildly. ¨You heard it girl? We're going home after this one.¨ Straightening up, the short man threw the cloth sack over his shoulder and made his way into the city. Zach still needed a partner for the task as it was a requirement for the job, but he had someone specific in mind already. Few days had been passed from meeting the major Greyhound so Zach wasn't sure of the respond the man would give to his request for help. What more the man had more composed common sense then most of the population inside central together, let alone Zach himself. Taking to consideration the events of the past week, however, his chances of getting Hound to his side on this would be slim. Finally arriving to the familiar house, the fragile framed man climbed up the stairs and knocked the door. There was no answer for a long while, the lights all turned off and the house seeming abandoned. Finally, the sound of heavy, sluggish footsteps came marching toward the door, accompanied by a low groan. The door knob turned and oak door cracked open to reveal the house’s owner. Major Greyhound, his hair whipped into a mad frenzy, his clothes disheveled, and eyes red and droopy. The now old-looking man stared absently at Comwell for a long while, blinking his pain swollen eyes in what seemed like confusion. “Oh… Comwell. Err… Come in I’ll… I’ll get you some coffee..” He said dismally, opening the door wider as he turned about, a now empty bottle handing from his weakly closed left hand as he walked toward the kitchen with slumped shoulders, his body smelling heavily of whiskey. The house itself was in stark disrepair, more so than usual. Many of the bookshelves were in disarray, books fallen to the ground and completely disorganized. Papers tossed about at random. And perhaps most outstanding of all, the hole in the wall opposite the door adorned with specks of dried blood. Sherman’s right hand suspiciously bruised and cut from what seemed to be a recent wound. Zach took a step back from the sight with frowned look on his face. ¨What in the...¨ looking at this ghost of a man reminded him of meeting up a walking corpse more or less. Quick glimpse over the living dead's shoulder revealed of what resembled a tomb or an underground dungeon,instead of a a room of a person. Returning his eyes to Sherman, Zach relaxed and sighed. ¨Hound, you should really cut a step back with your working habbits, honestly.¨ Passing the corpse of a man, the Major entered the dusty dark room and walked over to the nearest bottle of alchohol, taking a sip. Still a bit shocked of the state the room was in, taking a noticed to the blood splattered wall next to him, the thin framed alchemist turned to face his co-major. ¨Say Hound. If you can still comphrehend my words, I have a suggestion for you that would give you the edge you need. whaddya say bud?¨ Hoping to get a reaction of any kind, the man lied the bottle next to him on the table and lit a cigarette with ease that revealed somewhat obviously that the same motion had been done hundreds and hundreds of times before. waiting for an another minute, the man spoke again. ¨It's about the mission this time. I was asked to choose my partner, and as they didnt' state anyone specific, I was thinking if you would want to tag along. Think of the bright side. You would get some time out from the central and this... apartment. Plus as they cannot deny me of my request, it would give you some more time to think of your experiments on the way as we go. They can't cancel your funding if you're on pofficial mission in the middle.¨ Taking a long drag from the cig, he continued. ¨You did mention your deadline was coming to an end last time didn't you? If you want some more time, I got the chance for it. What do you think?¨ There it was. Zach threw all that he got in his sleeve for reasoning to get this man come with him. after this it was only a matter of brainwork, if the shadow of the major figure could still think anything through at this point, that was. Sherman made his way back into the kitchen, flipping on a light to illuminate the room. The kitchen, while a bit messy, was not in the terrible state of the rest of the house. In fact there were few signs that it had ever been used in the past months beyond making sandwiches and getting drinks. Moving off to the side to turns on the coffee pot, loading it up with beans and water as he listened to Zach’s proposition. “Partner…? But.. I’m not a field agent…” He said at first, taking a long pause as he thought it over. It was true, he wasn’t a field agent. His combat training was purely ceremonial for the part of the military. He was there for research grant given to the state alchemists. Government funding for his world. With a heavy sigh he stepped to the side, reaching for the cupboard and searching for some clean cups. Silently listening to Zach’s words as he detailed his plan. “Not a bad plan… But I think it’s too late now Comwell.. The director of Central Research already sent his running boy… This is it. I have about a week and my funding will be cut… And I’ll be dismissed from military service.” He explained solemnly, setting a cup down on the counter beside the coffee pot. “It’s funny… I’ve put so much of my life into this. I started off strong. Developed a few new alchemical medical treatments… Discovered new cures to illnesses… And yet all the military wanted from me were the poisons I made on accident…” He said, lifting the old coffee pot and pouring the hot liquid into the mug. “Truth be told I’ve come across a lot of poisons since then I just… I just don’t report them anymore… I signed on to heal. Not to kill. Of course every month that passed that I didn’t present them with anything… Fatal… They cut my funding. And kept cutting it back until I was spending my own money. Selling my things… Just to keep in business. And now… Well now it’s over. I won’t be able to afford my house, much less keep my research going… I’ll have to sell my car, my books… I suppose I can always get work at the local clinic and get an apartment…” Finally turning around Sherman held up the mug, steam rising from the dark brown liquid. “Here… You like it black right?” He said calmly, a dreary expression on his unusually aged-looking face. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 04:49 PM Post #2 |
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Zach tried to fight against the urge to slap the man. Instead of bursting all out open, he took a deep breather of his cigarette and quickly gathered his thoughts to turn this man swimming in self pity. ¨Yeah, black.¨ He answered as Hound referred to his habit with coffee. Taking the cup and leaning lazily to the table next to Hound, he continued. ¨Well now that you got that out of the way, why don't we go out with a bang, then? I left my resignation at the Colonel's office. This will be my last mission as well.¨ Taking a sip, Zach let the air settle down before speaking again. ¨And for the job, I don't need you there to start a riot. I need you there for diplomatic purposes. As you know, I'm not the peacefully-negotiate-type of a person. And this one might need something little more settle then killing half a city to get results. You really need to clear yourself and this might just do it, and who knows, maybe you'll get something productive out of it, eh? Afterwards, we can think of the future. I don't have anything special planned, so I'll stick with you whatever you want to do after. Help me out with this, Hound... Just like old times.¨ Zach drank the cup dry and lied it on the table. Sticking his other hand to the pocket of his trench coat, he turned around. ¨Whichever you choose, I hope it's the one answer that'll satisfy you in the end... I'll be waiting for your answer in the car¨ With these words, the frail looking man walked across the room and through the exit, closing the door behind him. Sherman let out a heavy sigh, watching Comwell through his half closed eyes. Seemingly vacant of any thought. After what felt like an eternity of thinking over the offer, the older alchemist finally blinked, watching Comwell make his way out of the door. Finally coming to his conclusion Sherman slumped off toward his study, slowly walking down the steps and up to a small closet on the corner of the room. Opening the drawer a smile broke across his face, one of nostalgia and fond memories. His tired eyes locked on his old uniform of blue and silver. “Suppose it can’t hurt…” He said as he took the uniform out, ready to dawn his formal attire. After a few minutes Sherman came out from his house, fully dressed in his stat alchemist’s uniform and with his signature green satchel at his side. Holding up an ungloved hand he signaled for Comwell to hold up, quickly walking to the car’s side and opening the door. “Alright… You convinced me.” He said, climbing into the small vehicle. “I’m with you on this one… Just for the love of God don’t go slamming on the gas pedal this time, alright?” he said worriedly, closing the door behind him as he sat in the passenger’s seat. Zach didn't shift his eyes from the image on the windshield as he heard Hound entering the car. Flashing only a grin he answered. ¨Of course. These budjet-cut-cars probably couldn't handle it anyway.¨ Waiting till the door was closed, the Major started the engline and drove off to the farther side of the city. From the back seat, a sudden rustle was heard as Yumi reacted tp Sherman's arrival, and greet him by licking throughly any possibly dry spots on his face. Also the back seat was halfly taken by a huge black bag. ¨I suggest you take some sleep, we got a long way to go this time.¨ The fragile looking alchemist sdtated as they closened towards the city gates. ¨Oh right, got to make a drop down the corner.¨ making a quick right turn, the man stopped the car. ¨here we are.¨ From the near building, a slender figure stepped out and rushed to the car. ¨I'm sorry Major, I had TONS of things I wanted to pick up.¨ a young girl opened the door and entered next to Yumi to the back seat. ¨Liutenant Avory Williams, reporting for mission, sir.¨ Sherman reached down, buckling himself in as a warm wetness came slapping him across the face. “Gah!” He called out, turning to see his assailant only to again be struck with the wet tongue of justice. Pushing the dog back Sherman groaned, wiping his face clean with his sleeve. “Ah, Yumi! Why’d you have to do that eh?” He finally exclaimed with a chuckle, patting the dog’s head affectionately before turning toward the road. “Drop? What are we dropping?” He asked, giving his partner a curious glance. Sherman looked around the area as the car came to a stop, only guessing at what they were hear to drop off. Turning back as the car door opened, the older alchemist’s brows raised as he looked upon his alchemical student. “lieutenant Williams? I didn’t know you were coming too.” He said with surprise, glancing back toward Comwell. “What exactly are we doing anyway?” Avory saluted from the back seat. ¨Yes, I got call from Major Comwell just some hours ago that I was included in a mission beyond Xing boarders, Sir!¨ Comwell shrugged to Sherman's glance. ¨And that's that.¨ Returning to the original road, Zach drove out from the city while preparing for explanation. ¨So... About the mission. As you already heard, we are heading to Xing. Our mission will take place somewhere in major populated area, the specific location comes later. Our purpose is to get one of our own back and negotiate some kind of a deal to get Xing people to help with revolution. This is where you come into play. And that dilly-dally there on the back, well... I thought a pair of extra hands wouldn't hurt anyone. As I did go through her file after our last meeting, she seems to be assigned to you as a pupil of some kind. Good experience for her to gain.¨ Avory raised a brow on the back seat. ¨Dilly-dally, Major...?¨ But as soon as Yumi started fighting for some space with her, she forgot the issue and started playing the wrestling game. Zach opened his side window and lit a smoke while driving through the countryside. ¨So that's the main plan. On the side I was thinking of getting some good use of the goverment money for vacation at the Xing, as this is our last chance to do it.¨ Hanging the cigarette from the side of his lip, the man waited for Sherman to digest all the gained information. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 04:51 PM Post #3 |
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Sherman nodded his head as Comwell explained the scenario, letting out a relaxed sigh before leaning back, his tired eyes finally closing shut. “I see… So it’s just a simple diplomacy mission? Doesn’t sound too bad… Not really much of a bang like you said it’d be buut… I don’t mind. A nice, quiet Xing vacation on the government’s dollar sounds like just my kind of mission.” he said cheerfully, a slight smile spreading across his face. “So. What kind of people are we meeting with? Just a local noble family or what?” Sherman asked calmly, not bothering to open his eyes. Zacharty sighed. ¨I wish... After we get our guy back to our care, we're gonna meet up with the emperor himself. He's suppose to be expecting us when we get there. Let's just hope he has a busy schedule, eh...?¨ Zach dumped the bud of a cigarette from the window and took a sip from a bottle of water while focusing on the road once again. Lots of things going through his mind, the man kept silence for awhile while driving, Something told him that things wouldn't be quite as quiet as it was supposed to be, but then again, he was a military born child so the gut feelings came to him commonly. After several hours of driving, Zach watched from the mirror as Avory and Yumi were asleep. A light grin appeared on his face as he saw them both sleep halfly on each other like best friends hugging. Not sure if Sherman was taking a nap, he spoke silently. ¨Say Hound... Do you think we have achieved anything at all in all our time in the military? It sure would be nice to know if anything we did, matters in the end.¨ Maybe it was the reason being on his last mission or something else, but Zach felt mildly hollow from the inside, but at the same time relieved. Bringing his other hand to his eye level, he glimpsed the tattoo that represented the alchemical symbol of "Metal" carved on his palm. ¨These hands Hound.. They have taken so many lives I stopped counting from the first year on the job. I'd hope it meant something...¨ Sherman just let out a calm sigh, head resting back against his seat comfortably. Not a care in the world, at least until Comwell’s words about the emperor came to the older alchemist’s ears. Jerking into an upright position, the older alchemist stared wide-eyed at his partner. “Whoa! Wait a minute Comwell, the Emperor? I’m going to talk to the ruler of an entire country!?” He called out, clearly filled with concern. “You could have at least warned me you little trickster!” After a few hours the argument had long calmed down, Sherman laying back with his eyes closed, seemingly sound asleep. Yet as his partner spoke the older man stirred, a slight smile cracking across his formerly stoic face. “Mm.. I think… You did at least.” Sherman replied calmly. “You may have blood on your hands Comwell, but you did it all for your country… For the good of the people we swore to serve. But me? Well.. I don’t know. I’ve spent most of my time doing research trying to save the world from illness.. I put out a few good products, sure. But I didn’t exactly meet my goal.” Opening his eyes just slightly, Greyhound took in a light breath, arcing his back in a stretch. “Mmm… At least I did good as a medical officer… Like the time you got shot by that murderer and I had to pull those bullets out.. Was it three or four? I can never remember…” The day passed and Zach drove as the sun set behind their back. As the night fell, he stopped to a roadside hotel and parked the car. ¨Hound, wake up our kids on he back seat will you?¨ Raising up from the car, the man lit another cigarette and opened the back door, taking the black bag on his shoulder and moved towards the hotel. Walking up to the hotel counter, the Major ordered 2 rooms and dragged himself to the upper floors. After getting into his and Sherman's room, the man threw the bag on one of the beds and opened it. It was full of scrap metals, broken up guns, and knives. Sliding his fingers across the surface of the shining objects, the man closed his eyes. ¨We have a loooong night ahead of us, eh?¨ Sherman gave out a loud yawn, raising his arms over his head as he stretched out, and nodded. “Yah yah…” He replied tiredly, turning back around toward the pair. The young girl sleeping soundly, the dog hugged tightly to her chest as they both lay there sound asleep. A smile broke across the older alchemist’s face as he watched the adorable sleeping pair, a slight hint of amusement streaking across his visage. “Ah… That’s just plain cute.” He said quietly, before reaching out to poke the dog’s nose, waking it up. As Yumi stirred Sherman would smile bright, rising up out of the car and walking around back to open the door. “Come on girls.” He said cheerfully, letting out a sharp whistle to send Yumi charging out, and likely waking Williams up from the sudden lack of support. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 04:54 PM Post #4 |
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Avory slowly opened her eyes, crawling up from her deep slumber. rubbing her eyes for few times, she was about to get up from the back seat of the car as Yumi suddenly started paddling over her in a hurry. ¨GAH!¨She gasped as part of the air in her lungs escaped from the weight of a full grown wolf trying to stomp her deeper in to the seat. ¨Yumi!¨ she groaned as she was finally released and got up herself. Still having hard time opening her eyes, Avory tried to focus on Sherman's face. ¨Good morning Major, are we there already?¨ Yumi, who had gone ahead earlier, now jogged lazily back to the car's side and sat down, waiting for the two to move. Sherman couldn’t help but give a soft chuckle before nodding in response. “Not quite to Xing, but we’re at the hotel.” He replied, standing up from the car with a heavy yawn and a stretch of his back. “I guess we’ll just stay here for the night. I’ll call in to Colonel Evans about transportation.” He continued, walking around behind the car to open the trunk. “Unless… You wanted to give her a call, Comwell.” Sherman replied slyly with a slight grin. He reached down and hefted up a large duffle bag, slinging it over one shoulder. “Come on, lets all get inside.” He called after them as he turned toward the hotel and walked for his room. Zacharty gave Sherman a quick glance but did not answer to the man's suggestive phrace. Keeping it to himself, the short man turned back towards the task at hand while organizing the scrap metals in front of him. Avory picked up her belongings while dragging herself inside the hotel with lazy steps, followed by Yumi shortafter. The hotel they had been booked was a small building apart from any of the major cities or villages, located alongside the road that would take them to the desert and towards their final destination. The country of Xing. --------------------------- After everyone would have settled down, Zach would get up from his "hobby" and order a room service for something to eat while planning their moves for the future. Waiting patiently while Sherman would give his report to the demon in Central. In some part of his mind, he was sure that Colonel Evans would send more people to look after him for this mission. After everyone had settled in Sherman was quick to remove his military coat, wearing only the blue pants and white button-up shirt. His duffle bag was sitting on the floor beside the small table he sat at, the plain white phone resting just in front of him. “Alright everyone, quiet. I’m going to call in and report.” He called back to the room, but he got no answer. Yumi and Williams were wrestling one another on the dark blue carpet with growls and giggles of delight, and Zach was ordering room service with the phone in the other room, avoiding the whole situation. ~What? Does he think she’s going to yell at him from across the room or something~ Sherman thought before giving a shrug and dialing in the number. “Hello, this is Major Sherman Greyhound. I’d like to speak to Colonel Evans please.” He said to the phone center operator, patiently awaiting the call to go through. "Yes, I'll hold." Rebecca sat at her desk, staring at the piles of paper that had been dumped on her shortly after the ruckus had gone down. Due to circumstances of few days passing, her office had been moved to another room with at least its walls intact. Sighing loudly, the Colonel took a hold of some of the papers on top and was just about to lay her eyes upon to its content as the phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, she answered. ¨Colonel Evans.¨ Few seconds passed and a nervous voice of the operator spoke. ¨Yes, Colonel Evans? Major Greyhound is on the line, shall I patch him through? Evans closed her eyes while focusing her full attention to the call. Small lines had appeared under her eyes from the strain she had endured for a few days now. ¨Please do.¨ Waiting as the phone connected, she answered. ¨Major Greyhound, I assume you're here to give me your report of the progress so far?¨ ------------------------------------------- Central, East Wing: The building had finally fallen silent towards the closing evening. Stephen walked through the fairly empty hallways with straight posture and glance of steel. Another day over with his work, the man made his way towards the exit where he would take his way home to resume much earned rest. After getting out to the courtyard, he spotted a dim light glimmering from the Colonel's office. ¨Still at work I see...¨ he stated more to himself than anyone else while fixing the collar of his coat to protect against the evening breeze. He would never understand the Colonel's everlasting energy to keep on going. Slowly the man's figure dissappeared to the streets, deep in thought. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 04:57 PM Post #5 |
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The 2nd Lieutenant stood nervously outside Evans' temporary office. She had broken out in a cold sweat, clutching her latest report close to her chest. She tried to take deep, even breaths, convincing herself to act normal and naturally, even though her instinct was still to push the report under the door and run. Suddenly she felt closer to Zach than ever before. This time she was absolutely positive she had translated everything properly, and not left any nonsense in, whatever that meant. She had made sure to read each page of the report this time, just to be sure, and then to make sure she forgot it all, she planned to make a stop by the liquor store and buy as much as she could drink in a night. Still, it didn't make her feel any better about the meeting. Well, now or never... Kirk thought, reaching for the door knob. Just as her fingers brushed the metal, she heard a phone ring from inside the office. Immediately she snapped her hand back from the door, fully on alert. While it wasn't necessarily her business or right, she decided to listen to the phone conversation until it was finished, so she could enter without interrupting. Aaand of course she couldn't deny her inner curiosity. She cocked one ear slightly towards the door, just able to make out the Colonel's husky voice saying, "Major Greyhound, I assume you're here to give me your report of the progress so far?" Greyhound? Suddenly eavesdropping became more than a passing pleasure, but a vital necessity for gossip. Sherman waited patiently as the operator connected him to the Colonel’s office. He turned back in his chair, watching Williams and the dog playing freely. He had almost forgotten why he was calling when he heard the colonel’s voice on the other end. “Ah!” He called, fumbling the phone before catching it, his attention fully drawn back to the conversation. “Colonel Evans. Yes. I’m sure Major Comwell informed you that he selected me as his partner for the Xing case. I wanted to inform you that we’ve stopped for the night at a hotel and will be arriving at the train yard early next morning. I’ll try to make it by o’ eight hundred. Should be able to make the o’ nine hundred train without problem.” He said in his most professional voice possible. “Also, Colonel. I’d like to make a request for some additional intelligence on the mission. Major Comwell explained it in the car, but… He’s not the sort to write these things down. And I’d like a more physical way to fact check, if it’s not too much trouble.” Sherman knew full well he likely got his partner in trouble with that last remark, but it was true. And they’d need better documents to work with in a foreign city hunting down fugitive alchemists. Sherman leaned back in his chair, more relaxed than before, awaiting his superior officer’s response. Evans leaned back on her chair, rubbing the side of her head with her free hand. ¨Understood Major, I will send someone to accompany you. Your meeting point will be at the station in the morning. Keep me posted on the events while you're at it.¨ Evans was about to finish putting down the phone as she realized something. Quickly bringing the phone back she commented a bit more loudly then needed. ¨ALSO Major. Do NOT let Comwell do anything stupid. I'll put you in charge of this operation from this point on. Goodbye.¨ Finally putting down the phone, Rebecca started rubbing the other side of her head as well. She had mixed feelings about this whole operation to begin with. Adding Comwell to the mix did not help at the least. ¨now... who do I need to send there....¨ Kirk struggled to hide a giggle about the last bit of the phone conversation, and missed the Colonel's utterance to herself. At least she seemed to be a in a better mood. Steeling herself anyway, Kirk entered the office. "Colonel Evans, ma'am, I have the final report for today." After a quick, but proper salute, Kirk slid the papers onto the clearest part of the desk she could find, then stood back at ease, waiting for any more orders her superior might have for her. He smiled and nodded calmly, listening to the Colonel give her orders. “Good, good. Thank you, Colonel.” He said. He was about to end the conversation when he heard her voice erupt over the phone. He jumped in his seat, once more nearly fumbling the phone before bringing it to his ear. “Wait, I’m in ch- I…” He stuttered, surprised by the sudden promotion in rank for this mission. “Right, I understand. Sir, yes sir. I’ll keep Major Comwell in line. Over and out.” With that he hung up, setting the phone back in it’s place. What a surprising turn of events. After a moment of reflection a grin came to his lips, turning around and cupping a hand to one cheek. “Ooooh Zacharty~ I order you to make me a sandwich!” He called jokingly before sliding down in his seat. At the very least, the sudden responsibility came with the perk of amusement. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 05:01 PM Post #6 |
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Evans nods lightly to Kirk's salute before accepting the documents. Going through them with fast pace, glancing every page she seemed pleased about the work done. ¨Well done 2nd Liutenant, everything seems to be in order. Dismissed¨ Placing the papers to the side, she was about to continue with her work as she suddenly snapped her head back up. ¨2nd Liutenant, wait a minute! Actually... I might have something suited for your particular talents.¨ Opening one of the drawers, she pulled out a copy of a mission briefing and handed it towards Kirk. ¨Here. I need you to deliver this to Major Greyhound to the train station near the border of the great desert.¨ Crossing her fingers on top of the table she paused for a second before continuing. ¨I suggest that you hurry however. You have until tomorrow morning to get there. Take the train, it will take you straight to your destination and you should make it in time.¨ Closing her eyes for a brief second, Rebecca seemed to mold some kind of an idea in her mind. ¨Also.. I would like you to accompany Major Sherman and the others through this mission. You might still be of use on the "other side". Oh and before you go, inform Captain Claive from the east wing that he is to be your superior and escort until you reach to the station, if you please. That is all, dismissed.¨ Looking back to her papers, Evans continued her work, not giving Kirk a chance to refuse. ----------------------------------------- Through the half way of the phone call, Zach, who was about to pour some coffee from the fresh can, suddenly felt a cold chill through his spine. Turning around, he had no idea what wass going on. As Sherman made his "witty" comment, the short man stood there in slippers, staring at him with quirked expression and the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "Oh... Well, thank you, Colonel!" Kirk saluted once more, pleased with herself, and turned on her heel to exit. She nearly tripped over herself when the Colonel told her to wait. Hastily, she turned back to face her superior, her military discipline shot to shit. "Huh..? Um... O-okay, then..." Kirk made her way back to the desk, watching Evans' efficient hands shuffle through papers. Numbly, she accepted the mission documents and took in the verbal orders. Hearing that she had only a short night to make it to her destination, Kirk hastily saluted and scrambled back to the door, only to be halted again. "I'm going to accompany them... And... Captain Claive, ma'am? Consider it done." With one last salute, Kirk slid out of Evans' office and found herself sprinting though the halls of headquaters once more. After a few mis-turns and stopping to ask passing officers if they had seen him, Kirk had determined that the Captain was heading towards his residence for the night. Luckily, Kirk had run into a lower ranked officer who claimed friendship with the Captain and 'persuaded' him to relinquish the address. After shoving her belongings and mission orders into a bag, she sprinted out of headquarters, the approaching deadline weighing heavily on her mind, as always. Finally, she saw an unfamiliar back in military dress ahead of her. "Captain Claive!!" she called, using the scant breath left in her body to make herself heard. "Captain.... Evans... sent mission..." she huffed as drew even with the man. "Train station... escort..." Kirk dug around in her bag for the mission report and flashed it at him. "Superior officer... you..." Unable to stay upright any more, the woman collapsed to her knees, still offering the mission report to the Captain. Claive turned around as he heard the voice calling his name. It was 2nd liutenant directly under Colonel Evans. His steel hard gaze did not waver as he took hold of the papers. ¨At ease Liutenant, catch your breath.¨ Quickly reading through the files that held no meaning to him, he returned them to the girl. ¨Correct me if I'm mistaken. But I am to be you escort to the station until released by Major Greyhound?¨ Stephen was already weary from the days work but orders coming from higher then his own rank could not be ignored. ¨Ïf that is the case, we should move quickly and we might catch the next train.¨ The Captain took out his pocket watch to check the time before adjusting his swordbelt to a better position and straightening off his coat. ¨Let's go Miss-...?¨ Kirk nodded feebly. "The Colonel wants me to accompany the Major's group when we get there, so if it's alright, I'd like to stop by my apartment and pack. It's on the way, and won't take long." Her chest felt raw, and her legs like jelly, but she could at least speak normally now. The lieutenant stood and dusted herself off, taking the documents back and putting them into her file with a bit more care than she had earlier. Awaiting the captain's verdict, she tried to smooth her hair which had taken a state of disarray after her run. ¨Very well. ´ Stephen started walking towards the next block while speaking. ¨Go get your things. I will come pick you up in ten minutes and we will head straight to the station.¨ With these words, the Captain took a heading towards the opposite direction. He would need a car to get everywhere in time. As soon as he had lost sight of the girl, he fastened his pace and looked for the nearest hideouts that the Central had placed all around the town. They always kept small amount of supplies and vehicles at hand after all. Opening one of the carages, the man sat in the first car he could find and made his way towards the Central. Stephen soon came to realize he had forgotten to ask where the girl actually lived, so he had to make a stop at the office to ask for an address. ------------------------------------ 10 minutes later... Stephen finally arrived to the address he had been given by the official informants at the Central's desk. Looking around he could not see the girl anywhere to be found. He patiently kept the car running while glancing from side to side. This was a new kind of mission for Stephen. The man usually just kept it to himself and rarely worked with others. Central had used his "talents" to solve many kind of problems, but never ones like this was about to be. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 05:04 PM Post #7 |
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Kirk nodded to the captain, heading for her apartment which was quite literally around a corner. She bounded up the stairs and unlocked her rooms, entering quickly. She flipped the light on and glanced around the familiar apartment. Since the space was small, she only had necessary funiture: a comfy but worn armchair, small coffee table, a bookshelf that had but 4 volumes on it, and a photograph of a family in the countryside on the wall in the sitting room; the kitchen was in an even sorrier state, with the only thing resembling a table an old ironing board left pulled down from its place in the wall. Her bedroom and bathroom were essentially the same room but for a shabby curtain. Her bed and wooden wardrobe looked just as old and worn as the rest of the furnishings. The three-room rental wasn't much, but it was home. Getting to work, Kirk first undressed, as her uniform was wrinkled and sweaty from the days' activities. She placed it on the ironing board left pulled out, intending to deal with it when she returned from the mission. Since she always tried to anticipate this type of short notice, Kirk already had a bag with necessities packed stored in her wardrobe, which she pulled out and tossed on the bed. The only thing that was missing was her actual travel papers. She quickly pulled them from a panel hidden in her boxspring added them to her bag with a sigh of relief. That was easy. Noting she still had time before she was to meet her escort, Kirk decided a shower would do good. Nothing fancy, just enough to rinse the sweat from her body. After the brief but satisfyingly hot shower she hastily toweled off and repinned her damp hair in a fresh hairnet, and pulled a clean uniform from her closet, which she changed into. Hoisting her travel bag and file case over her shoulder, Kirk took one last look at her living space before switching the lights off and locking up behind her. Trotting downstairs, she immediately saw the waiting car and recognized its driver, even in the waning light. She opened the back door and tossed her travel bag inside. "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting Captain," she apologized, closing the back door and opening the front, sliding into the passenger seat with her file and buckling in beside him with a small salute. "Second Lieutenant Elizabeth Kirk at your service. Sorry for not introducing myself properly earlier. In any case, was there anything about this mission you wanted to discuss before we board the train?" she asked, pulling the report from her file again. She had yet to actually read the details, and wanted to become familiar with it several times over during the trip. Besides that, she got the feeling that the Captain was the 'awkward silence' type, but so far couldn't think of anything else to talk to him about. Claive noticed the Liutenant walking his way. He immediately sat in the car to start it up once again. Waiting until Kirk had tossed her belongings to the back seat, he heard the introduction and question that came aftewards. ¨Ah, Captain Stephen Claive, pleased to meet you.¨ Stephen always felt awkward with introductions like these, but as it stood, he had mastered it quite well. His voice was naturally deep and very formal to begin with. ¨And don't worry, we still got plenty of time.¨ As Kirk would place herself comfortably on her seat, Claive would hit the gas and head towards the station. ¨Not that it is my business as long as I get you to the other side of those tracks, right?¨ Stephen would concentrate on the road ahead. It was a bit weird for him to try and talk with others more than about his work. He kept the silence hovering in the atmosphere for a few minutes before speaking. ¨...Although I'm guessing this is somehow related to the recent events with the rebellion and what not.¨ The Captain's voice was steady and no signs of emotion escaped from it. Afterall, for many years he had been remarked as an outstanding image of a soldier. Even if Claive himself did not deny it, it sure didn't match his own ideal of himself. The night fell upon the city and the street lights came alive as the car close the gap between itself and the station. The nightly life became apparent as drunken yells and laughter filled the air, along with stench of sweat, wine, piss, and shit. All that would be the under flavor of the cake called Central City. The captain's general silence didn't bother Kirk at first, as she busied herself with reading the report. "Hmm... Maybe. It seems it could be the case, but it also has to do with politics in Xing," she replied absently. She sighed and leaned back, finished with the report. She addressed and earlier comment the man had made. "As for this not being your business, Captain Claive, Colonel Evans gave you mission authority until you turn me over to Major Greyhound's care. That means that you're privy to any information we have, ergo, the entire mission report so far." Kirk crossed her legs and closed the report; she would have more time to read it on the train. "Of course, I understand if you want to keep knowledge in this situation limited. I've heard how seriously you take military operations and I could see the potential danger." She glanced at the man sidelong. He wasn't unattractive, but he sure was stiff! As she followed the niceties of conversation, she tried to plot out some more lighthearted topics to make the trip go a little faster for the both of them. Stephen kept his posture. ¨Indeed...¨ Making a left turn, the car stops to the parking lot. The Captain quickly rises from the car and checks the surroundings with a quick glance. ¨Let's go. Make sure to lock the doors when you get out.¨ making his way to the reception. Claive bought tickets for both of them and headed towards the train that was still waiting for the last passengers to enter. Trusting that Kirk would follow soon after, Stephen entered the train and made his way to the appointed cabin. He had no luggage with him. The only thing he had with him was hhis uniform and weapons, which should be more then enough for this kind of a mission. Ordering some tea from a passing waiter, Stephen waited. Rolling her eyes behind the captain's back, Kirk did as she was told and locked the car up after exiting and taking her belongings. As it didn't take her very long, Claive was still in view, so she followed him into the station. As he purchased the tickets, she caught up, although he seemed to be off in his own little world. She decided to stay silent, shadowing him like a phantom cat onto the train. As he sat, she noticed he flagged down a waiter, and coming into earshot she heard him order tea. Now wasn't that interesting. Politely, she waited for the waiter to pass before stowing her luggage and sliding into the seat across from the man. "I never figured you drink tea," she commented casually. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 05:07 PM Post #8 |
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Claive returned to his seat where Kirk was already waiting. Removing the sword from his belt with its sheath on, the man placed it next to him. ¨Oh? Guess no one does. I don't drink alcholol so I guess I have to fill the void somehow.¨ Flashing a bit forced smile, he once again remained silent. The awkward silence lasted for some minutes until the tea arrived. Stephen waited until the waiter was long gone before reaching to take some of the beverage. The scent of tea leaves filled the air as the Captain poured it in to two cups. ¨I trust you would like to have some as well?¨ With the brighter lighting, the weariness could clearly be seen on the man's face that were emotionless once again, with very faint coloring all together. "That would be nice, thank you." Kirk reached over and took the offered cup, busying herself with the hot liquid and trying to avoid the terrible awkward silence that followed poor Claive like a cloud. After a few long minutes, the cup was drained and she was out of excuses. Gingerly she placed the cup back on its intended tray and glanced back and forth from the captain's face to the window a few times. About to say something, she changed her mind and covered it with a faked cough. A moment later, she changed her mind and tried again. "You're not very comfortable around new people are you?" she asked, cringing a little at her own bluntness. She had never been good at sugar-coating. Claive held the half empty cup, sipping from it from time to time. His eyes shifted from staring the window to Kirk as she launched her question. Small smile appeared from the side of his lips but otherwise his expression stayed the same. ¨Is it that obvious...?¨ It was true. Claive never had any problem handeling official business. But when it came down to social interactions, he lacked the skill and the experience to proceed. Switching to another subject, the Captain spoke in return. ¨How about you, Liutenant Kirk. How did a woman like yourself end up with a military? You don't seem like the type to get herself in the harms way?¨ Liz leaned against the window, suddenly nostalgic. She let the silence hang between them for a long time before deciding to answer or not. Eventually she came to the conclusion that if he truly wanted to know, he could read about it in her case files, so she may as well let him hear the story from the source. "You're absolutely right. I grew up in a small farming town on the eastern side of the country. One year the harvests were bad, and the government failed to store a surplus to guard against it, so of course there were riots and rebellions. My family dealt in livestock, so we weren't as bad off as those who lived off the land. Anyway, the rebels decided to raid our farm one night, you know, for food. We fought back, and they burned the place down." Suddenly Liz had lines around her mouth that she didn't before, and while her eyes were directed out the window, their glazed look told she was seeing something else. "My mother, father, and two younger sisters died that night. I'm not sure why I didn't die in the blaze with them." She held up a hand and pushed the sleeve back a bit, revealing more of the burn that marked her. "I have this to remind me of that night." She sighed and took a more relaxed position, throwing her head back against the seat and closing her eyes. "When I was old enough I signed on to the military, to try to prevent things like that from happening again. If the government is prepared to help its people when they're in trouble, they won't do things like that again. Or at least, that's what I thought..." After a split second of quiet contemplation, Kirk came back to reality and leaned forward again, a carefree smile on her face. "But enough of that, I'm sure we an find something less depressing to talk about, hm?" Claive listened to her story silently until she finished. ¨I'm.. Sorry to hear that...¨ Stephen himself knew something about childhood trauma. At least enough to feel her pain through her words. Not until now was that he noticed the aches of the joints that connected his nerves to the automails attached to his body. They had suddenly appeared as the girl spoke of her past, and the captain had not realized it until the very end. The man ignored it and continued to be amazed by the rabid mood change that this girl was oh-so-capable off. ¨Indeed.¨ But even after that said, he couldn't come up with anything productive, or even close to it, to talk about. Some moments passed as the Captain finally let out a sound. ¨We should rest, it's still many hours to our destination and I believe you should be ready when the morning comes. I'm guessing you'll be moving again soon after we stop.¨ Closing his eyes with his hands crossed, the man took a bit more relaxed position on his seat and calmed himself down. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 05:09 PM Post #9 |
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Kirk smiled lopsidedly. "I guess you're right..." She stood slowly, working out the kinks that had already wormed their way into her body on the bumpy train ride. She twisted her back into a satisfying crack and pulled her file down before settling back into her seat. Reading the dry file would likely help her fall asleep during their travel. As an afterthought, she looked up and back at the captain. "Sir..? Is there anything you'd like me to get for you?" Stephen was about to fall in slumber as his ears caught Kirk's voice from the midst of it. ¨No, It's fi...¨He stopped his sentence and opened his eyes. ¨Actually Liutenant. If you don't mind finding some of the staff here and ask the time of our arrival. I would like to plan ahead if there is any conveniences. Also request that they will inform us of any delays that may occur.¨ He was not sure why, but something told Stephen that if there was something that could go wrong with this mission, it would. He always preferred to stay one step ahead of things when it came to his comrades or his own well being. ¨If you like, you can get yourself something if you feel the need for it while you're at it.¨ Slowly but surely, the cart the two of them were traveling started to quiet down. And not in the good kind of way... Claive's sudden alertness made Liz wary by proxy. Solemnly, she nodded and set her files aside, rising deliberately from her seat and walking down the aisle with purpose. At the end of the car was a sleepy attendant. Using her best military posture and voice she informed him of what was needed, and asked a favor. The man groggily turned, answered her questions, and handed her a bundle of something. With a nod of thanks, Liz accepted the burden and headed back to the cabin shared with Claive, suddenly wary of the cloak of silence that burdened the car. A chill crawled up her spine as she took her seat and tossed a blanket and pillow to the captain. "Figured you might want to nap in comfort," she said with a cheerful smile, winking and wrapping a blanket around herself. Wedging the pillow between her shoulder and the window, she appeared to be settling in for a nap. However, with the blanket pulled closely over one side of her face, only Claive would be able to see her watching the aisle from beneath lowered lashes. ¨Ah thank you... Elizabeth...¨ The man said with light hearted tone, not suited for his appearance. Claive lift his hand and placed his index finger over his own lips as a silent "shh". Not soon after, pair of footsteps could be heard from the ther side of the aisle, Man's voice: ¨Phew, did we really have to take this long ride just for few militarists that need to be taken care off? I mean, if they knew that the dogs would be targeting the next station, couldn't they have just been there few days early, waiting for perfect ambush?¨ Step by step the footsteps would get louder and louder. Second voice: ¨Ah, stop whining will you? It's not that bad. Besides, I've been itching to get some killing done with these military bitches anyway. Although I hear there's only going to be 3 of them at the station. So I can't figure why they would send 2 wagons full of our people just to get them out of the way... There's got to be something special about these 3, don't you think?¨ First voice: ¨yeah, you said i~¨ --------------------------- Claive who had been carefully listening to the conversation, now stared at the 2 sturdy and armed men looking back at him from the doorway. The man closer to the cabin opened his mouth in confusion ¨Why is ther~!¨ Claive grabbed the hilt of his sabre that was leaning on the wall and swinged it towards the 2 men standing at the cabin entrance. The scabbard flew off towards them, quickly followed by the Captain himself. After the useless dodge, the first man tried to escape but with no luck. His head flew apart from his body after Claive's forceful swing, leaving only his twitching corpse to fall. Quickly checking his surroundings, Stephen followed the escaping partner of the recently beheaded corpse with his eyes. Pulling out his sidearm, the man shot towards the escapee, executing him against the the door that would lead to the next wagon. The walls and floor of the aisle were soon painted red from the blood splatters and open wounds. Stephen turned towards Kirk with his clothes and part of his face covered in crimson liquid. ¨Prepare yourself 2nd Liutenant. That shot must have alerted the rest of these rebels... I trust you have your weapons with you and readied for combat?¨ As Claive turned, he would be able to see that the blanket had been thrown back and Kirk was crouched in a combat ready position. She briefly met his eyes with her own, but they quickly flashed to the side. Quicker than one could blink, she thrust her left arm out, and something whooshed past his ear. Claive would feel the warm spray of blood at his back and hear the thud of the body hitting the ground; there was no sound, as Kirk's throwing knife severed the would-be-assailant's vocal cords and blocked his windpipe. Casually, she walked past the Captain, pulling her gun from its holster at her back, and settling it in her right hand. "Does that answer your question?" she asked, stopping at the body and bracing the chest with her foot so she could take her knife back with her free hand. The man's remaining blood spilled faster from the open wound as his eyes stared coldly in death at the ceiling, the train's rumbling making his limbs twitch and sway. Kirk placed herself on the other side of the aisle, kneeling down and cocking her gun. As an afterthought, she wiped the blade of her knife on the skirt of her uniform, leaving a bloody streak. Her war-face on, she watched for more attackers, trusting the Captain to be on lookout as well. |
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| Talonheart | Feb 22 2017, 05:12 PM Post #10 |
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¨Perfectly.¨ Claive would answer after Kirk had passed him in the aisle. Gathering the scabbard he had thrown earlier, the Captain tied it to its rightful place before sheathing the sabre itself. Now holding a firm grip of his sidearm, Stephen lowered his stance to the opposite side from Kirk and watching the other way. ¨There's got to be more in the later car's.¨ As a confirmation Few men came running down the aisle, quickly shot down by the Captain. ¨We can't get trapped here. MOVE!¨ Taking the lead, Claive would run towards the end of the wagon, where the men had appeared earlier. On the next wagon, dozen men prepared themselves after hearing the yells and the gunshots, waiting in cabins and all possible covers for something to happen. Watching their backs, Kirk walked backwards toward the Captain. She stood off to one side of the door, with her back to the wall, so as not to be in the line of fire in case they had guns. Her eyes flicked from the doorway, down the car they were in. There may be men in the next car, but they could come from behind as well. The conflict of whether to fight or stay and guard ate away precious seconds. She thought of something else. "Sir, are there civilians on this train?" She looked right, noting the open window and emergency fire hose coiled next to it. To her left she saw a stowed cart of snacks. She stared straight down the aisle; she didn't see any hostile movement. She leaned around the door, peeking out with one eye before raising her gun and taking two shots, hitting an armed man squarely in the shoulder with both. She took the cart in before withdrawing to her safety point again. "I can disconnect the car, in case there are more further back." Stephen went through their options quickly before replying. ¨It's possible that there are bystanders, but there's nothing we can do about it for now. We still need to make it to the station ahead.¨ Breaking the window next to him, Claive gained more clear view to the next wagon. Shooting couple rounds towards their assailants, he returned to the cover. ¨Disconnect the car behind us. If there's civilians or more of these guys, it helps us either way. Go, I'll cover you.¨ Keeping the rebel's at their stations by shooting at them, Claive made sure no one would try to get closer or get a clear shot at Kirk's back. Kirk nodded crisply and holstered her gun in a flash. She used the knife in her left hand to slash the fire hose from its fixed place in the wall and looped it over her shoulder. Making sure it was secured, she dove into the aisle in a controlled roll, transitioning smoothly into a low run, trying to make a small a target as possible. Battle fever had overtaken her system, and she could no longer tell if shots were being fired either way. She dodged into the open space between the cars and crouched down. She looped her fire hose around the handles to the doors of both carts, tying them together so that 1- the doors couldn't be opened, and 2- the carts wouldn't drive apart right away. Using the looped hose like a rail, she held onto it with one hand and palmed her knife in the other. while cart-pins were supposed to be "quick-release" nowadays, she found it was almost never the case. She tried the release-- it was stuck fast. Using her knife she dug at the crevices, trying to work free any dirt that would stick the release. She saw bits of dirt and grim fall to the track under her, and fought back the dizzying nausea of the realization of how fast they were going. Reversing her grip on the knife, she smashed the pommel into the release trigger repeatedly. Slowly, it came undone. One last smash and the release was free-- "HEY! What do you think you're doing!?" A man tugged violently at the door. "Military bitch, you won't get away!" Kirk made her last hit and the release was free. Only the fire hose kept the cars connected now. She stepped back onto the car with Captain Claive in it and slashed the hose. The man wrenched the door open; she saw the glint of a pistol. With no time to think, and the enemy's car not slowing down fast enough, Kirk did the only thing she could do to keep him from firing. The man had not even realized she moved until he noticed the knife gone from her hand. He looked down to see it buried hilt deep in his chest, and fell from the car onto the track. Turning her back, she headed back towards the captain. "The rear of the train has been secured, sir," she informed him, crouching in the row of seats behind the immediate exit. She pulled out her gun and double checked the rounds in it. "How do we procede?" Claive waited until Kirk was back on her place beside him. ¨Good work 2nd Liutenant.¨ Now to answer Kirk's question, the Captain thought furiously while returning fire from the front until the slide of his gun hit back and did not return. ¨Tch... I knew I should have picked up an extra pair of mags...¨ Releasing the slide, Stephen holstered his sidearm and drew out his sabre. ¨Well, we can't stay on the defensive forever. They clearly outrun us in weapons.¨ Going through the few options they had, Claibe picked the most straightforward one. ¨Well 2nd Liutenant Kirk. It seems we cannot fall back nor switch to offense without risks being involved... So...¨ The Captain signaled Kirk to follow him as soon as he would move. ¨I lay my life to your hands for the next few moments Liutenant. Don't think bad of me.¨ Taking a quick step to the side to get in position to reach the middle of the doorway, Stephen took a low stance like he was about to start sprinting. He tensed his whole body to the max and launched himself towards the enemy filled wagon with immese force. His artificial legs moaned under the pressure which was strong enough to sink his footprints from his starting point almsot through the train floor. With one swift step, the man had launched himself almost 10 feet straight ahead in an instance, gliding just above the floor without his feet touching it. Keeping his sword hand straightened to the back and using his automail-hand as a shield, the man reached to the striking distance for his first target. Few bullets had scraped his left arm, leaving a thin, bloodied trail behind him. Grabbing the first man while still moving, Claive pulled him out from the cover and stuck his blade through his middle section while covering behind it. The impaled man screamed from both surprise and pain as he was lifted in the air pushed forward by the berserked Captain. While moving forward towards the larger group, Claive could feel the bullets that hit the human shield he was carrying and could only hope none would get through. Letting out a loud battlecry, The Captain kept dashing with fire burning in his eyes... |
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10:24 AM Jul 11