Short Story

“Cipher Nine speaks with the authority of the Empire. Your job, hunters, is to keep her alive until she finds the target,” Darth Kozen responded, pressing his forefinger into the table as if to drill into them the importance of his order. Zolah would have preferred to bring one of her own along, but Kozen claimed to have worked with these two before and assured her they would get the job

“Good, good. Zimma will fill you in on the rest. Now, how about we go meet somebody important to you? She knew your father.”

The garment clunked to the floor, and Theron glanced at it momentarily. Zolah repeated the process, kicking his jacket away with a muttered statement about it painting a bullseye on his back. Theron opened his mouth to argue in defense of his tacky red jacket, but Zolah silenced him with a hungry kiss. He grunted against her lips when she pushed too hard against his still sore ribs while trying to remove his shirt. She didn’t even pause.

“Few have since most who’ve encountered him have not lived to tell anyone and I can only tell you what I have heard, only that he’s a mercenary hailing from the southern plains of Tyrinia, the Elven continent.”

“They’ve done it. Everyone is coming back.” Vector nodded, eyes still on the floor. Zolah stepped between his knees to wrap her arms around his shoulders. She pulled his head against her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. There were things that she could say to try to soothe his bruised soul, but everything sounded inadequate in her mind. Vector needed someone capable of compassion, someone who could understand his pain.

"Jerk!" Zinni squaked at the turtleduck, lifting her ankle protectively much like how Rikkar had done when she burnt his to a crisp. She then looked up to her captive, almost a little relieved to see him awake rather than dead from the injuries Ze had inflicted along side all of his fallen men. Zinni was angry that this many lives had been taken by her soldiers. They weren’t in the business of killing. They were in the business of containment and nothing more. This? This was sloppy work, and she could have done better. They could have done better. Her men needed more training. She noted that.

Zilva sharply turned another corner which immediately lead to the observation room. Upon entering, she noticed the team assigned to 1E24B were already calculating the meteor.

I walk to the garage which is giant , filled with nice cars with pretty colors.  Not me though i hop on my baby a black Ducati  since I was the leader I got choice of what car I wanted or whatever so I got a sexy beast.

The trek from Abertawe home had taken longer than expected. One of the injured men needed to stop and have his broken rib re-dressed by Merlin, and the young man got sick from the pain. They'd had to slow the pace after that, and as such, King Arthur's army did not cross the border into the Lower Town until well after the middle of the night. Normally, residents lined the streets to welcome knights home from battle, but this time, the streets remained silent. However, the people had left candles and lanterns outside to illuminate the steep path to the castle. To Percival, that act had been just as meaningful as waving banners; it was a way to guide them all home.

Mh'ale wasn't like the other stars. He was dark, cold, with no light of own to brighten his way through life. The others, so beautiful and radiant and brimming with energy, had no love for the freakish thing that inhabited the Nothing with them. Mh'ale envied and despised them in equal measure, and would weep and wail miserably when they taunted him, the tears puddling and pooling all around. The stars paid no heed to his misery; they were too perfect to cry, and didn't understand why the ugly little star was drowning himself. He only ever felt happy when he was bathed in light, but no matter how hard he begged, the stars refused to share the gifts that came to them so naturally. They teased and taunted him, allowing slight flickers

The lopsided battle raged for over two hours, the Army and Marines, also cleared the housing area. They captured seventy-five of the enemy combatants to include one make believe General, who told them they had no right to hold him as the United States of America no longer existed as far as he was concerned. Finally, out of exasperation at hearing the man rant and rant, Captain Gaston, who was now in Tomakow headquarters, had him tied and gaged then set into a corner so they didn’t have to listen to him anymore.

“We wrapped his leg and removed the shards of silver. It didn’t cut too deep so he should heal in about a -”

It all starts on the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, at the science and mining camp Alpha Site 18. Emilio, a black haired, blue eyed, roughed up miner from years of working in other mine shafts and a hard personality with a soft spot for children, was walking toward the main science bay area at request of the head scientist there, Ian Mack.

Five days. Would it be an unexpected blessing? Or maybe, a curse? Desol knew only time would tell.

For fifteen minutes, they followed the route on the tag until they reached a cave.