Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

“Junebug!”

Sayeeda turned to see Taya hurrying up behind her. The young noblewoman was dressed for breakfast, wearing a single piece swim suit that wrapped her in a series of slashes allowing her pale skin to peak through in a dozen places while preserving her modesty. Junebug had donned her own swimsuit, a two piece in a pale white that set off her tanned skin, though for the moment she was also wrapped in a sari of light blue silk.

“What is wrong?” Taya asked as she fell into step. Sayeeda shrugged, Neil obviously hadn’t told her his news as yet and it wasn't her place to share it.

“Rough night I guess,” Sayeeda explained, which was true, though probably not in the sense Taya understood it.

“You were really putting it away there, I was glad we didn’t have a repeat of the panties incident,” Taya jibed Junebug smiled as the younger woman led her down the path towards the beach. To her surprise the air was noticabley warmer here and she could see a small pavilion had been erected on the sand below. Feathered palms waved in a gentle breeze and as they reached the bottom of the stone steps. Indra and Neil were not yet present but the Chancellor and Gabriella were already sitting at a small table drinking water from tall fluted glasses.

“Ah, Captain, Marquessa, a pleasure to see you this morning,” Gabriella called. Both of them were dressed in bathing suits, Gabriella a red two piece that showed off her considerable assets and her husband in swim shorts. He might be an administrator but his stomach was flat and tan, evidence that he worked to maintain is rugged good looks.

“Warm weather for a wrap around my dear,” Gabriella said with a smile to Junebug. Sayeeda removed her sari to display her bare midriff. Gabriella stiffened with surprise. The skin was mottled in places and three promient plugs of scar tissue stitched her from right hip to her left flank above her belly button. The noble woman looked embarssed by Sayeeda only shruged.

“I was burned a few years back, and these,” she explained, fingering the scars.

“Hyper velocity armor penetrators. I was manning a gunnery station and the first shot through me into the air before they riddled me,” she explained, trying to keep her mind away from laying in the dusk of Kymnara, bleeding out as her vehicle was ripped to pieces twenty meters away.

“And you didn’t get surgery?” Gabriella asked, clearly curious.

“Medics did the best they could,” Sayeeda explained, aware that the idea of not getting cosmetic surgery done was alien to her audience.

“For some reason the synthetic skin never quite counterfeits the real thing.”

“A warrior is marked by their scars, they are a mark of pride,” Saxon grated. The hex sat up, having been buried in the sand nearby. The golden flecks streamed off him as he stood, clearly having been bathing in the stuff. Membranes closed sideways to clear his eyes as he stood. The approval of the scars clear in his voice and in the way his throat sacks puffed out.

“Thank you Saxon,” Sayeeda said politely.

“Mostly I was just happy to not be splattered over half an acre of countryside they way I would have been if they had punched through my LAV and started spinning before they hit me,” she admitted, giving the Hex a wry smile.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Emmaline crouched in the darkness mouth agog at Amal’s simple and direct plan for dealing with the bandits. She had no sympathy for them and didn't doubt they deserved what they got but Imperial justice tended to involve more formal proceedings. Araybians had a more elemental concept of what was just. The first man slumped forward with a gurgle as Amal’s blade sliced across his throat.

Drunk or not, the bandits recognised the smell of blood and they started to their feet. The second man went down screaming with a dagger in his belly and the third bolted in fear, screaming about Djinn which Emmaline translated as daemons. Unfortunately his blind panic carried him directly towards her hiding place, scimitar in hand, eyes wide with panic. With a squeak Emmaline swung the staff like a club, catching the man across the jaw and sending him spinning to the ground. The impact wrenched the staff from her grip and before it hit the sand it was sinuous and slithering thing. The bandit screamed as the hooded cobra rose in a recurve and then struck like a snapping bow, sinking its fangs into the bandits neck. The man screamed once, and then flopped to the ground froth bubbling from between his lips. The snake turned towards the petrified Emmaline she head Amal shout a warning, but instead of striking it merely bowed its head and a moment later the staff lay in the dirt. Gingerly Emmaline picked it up.

“Whoa,” she commented incisively.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

“I will hear no more of your nonsense,” Gisella snapped with aristocratic pique. She tossed her hair in irritation and glared daggers at Solae.

“You may lay with an untitled murderer if you like but he will never steal my daughters inheritance!” The PEA array went suddenly dark as the distant noblewoman cut the connection. Rene blinked his eyes too stunned and logi with reaction to the meds that were keeping him on his feet. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach as he realised that something had gone wrong though it took his mind a moment to process exactly what it was.

“Stars be cursed… can she really be that stupid?” he gasped. As Solae had intimated, creating a fake rebellion was an insane accusation, something that Gisealla need only mention to Imperial Intelligence to bring down the razored axe of the security services.

There was a snarl of frustration and a thump on the backside of the armored door as Bhast realised that the alarm had been broadcast to Capella. At least she thought so. Solae shot Rene a concerned look. The whole idea of contacting his father had been to avoid alerting any conspirators that Duke Tan might have in the wider galaxy. Should they now try a general broadcast to the diplomatic corp? His mind was glacial and cold, unwilling to rapidly process information as the situation demanded.

“Both of you are dead!” Bhast snapped, “By the stars you will both burn for this!”

Rene didn’t see how that followed, afterall the only hope that Duke Tan had was to get a PEA operational before Imperial forces could destroy him and his conspirators piecemeal. Was Bhast so angry that she would risk that. No. You didn’t get to be a General by letting your temperature rule your actions, no matter how bad things got. Which meant that Bhast’s anger, while real, was also for show. Rene’s eyes widened.

“Decimal give me audio for the corridor,” he snapped.

“I am unable to compl....” the AI voice cut out with a discordant whine.

“Damn it,” Rene whispered casting a wild look back at Solae. Bhast must have sent one of her men to perform a hard reset on the AI, that would only give her a minute or two to act, but a minute could be a lifetime in combat. Rene grabbed a heavy terminal and shoved it sideways with all his strength. The six foot machine moved slowly at first, toppling sideways and jerking momentarily as data cords and power leeds free in a shower of sparks. The heavy machine crashed across the door in a waist high barricade of steel and silicone.

With Decimal’s central processor rebooting, the commands he would have issued were temporarily disabled, that meant that Bhast had enough time to breach if she was quick. Breach and secure Solae before she could assume control of the rebooted system. He checked the load of his rifle before grabbing a second terminal and shoving it over behind the first. It wasn’t much of a barricade for a single man to defend against a determined assault force but he had to buy time for Solae to get out a second message to… to who? The Navy? The Marines? The Diplomatic corp? His mind refused to come down on anything definitively. He could feel the blood running down his leg from where his exertions had torn his wound open momentarily.

“We need to send out an alert to the…” Rene began but before he could finish the PEA lit up again. Rene pivoted to see Solae once again illuminated by the brilliance of the crystalline phosphorescence. A pair of figures appeared, hanging in the air in a full form hologram that used a shockingly high proportion of the PEA’s invaluable transmission bandwidth. The taller figure, at the rear, was a severe looking man with features that bore an obvious resemblance to Rene, though the lines seemed harder and more severe. He was perhaps in his fifties although the only sign of it was a slight touch of silver at his temples. Dark eyes seemed to watch everything at once. Alric Du Quentain wore armor, not the white and gold gilded armor he wore for court affairs, but true battle dress, similar to Rene’s in all respects though far more expensive. In front of him stood a young woman in an expensive dress of white silk. Her eyes were slightly upturned and almond shaped and glinted with a keen intelligence that seemed to pin Rene where he stood. She wore no makeup and though her eyes were pouchy with lack of sleep, she all but burned with vitality. Rene had seen her exactly once before and she was the very last person Rene had expected to see.

“Marquessa Solae Falia,” Mercedez Vilentrae, Empress and monarch of the Stellar Empire, said in a calm controlled voice, “I am pleased to meet you at last.”

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

LOL!

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda watched as Neil turned and left the room. Apparently content to fall back on Indra without a second thought. She fell back onto her bed sprawling out across the silken sheets. It was just Neil’s way, she told herself, he just fixated on whatever woman was nearby, Quetzalli, Woods, Indra. Rightfully speaking she should be offended, but the peculiar melange of emotions evaded immediate description. She blew out her breath from between her teeth. Over the years she had known plenty of men and a smaller number of women, but rarely had she formed real lasting relationships. The reality of mercenary service was that you could called up a a moments notice and be hundreds of miles away in a day and hundreds of light years away in a week, never to return.

While individual troopers sometimes fraternized with their peers, officers were expected to avoid relationships with their subordinates and their peers alike, a policy that was strictly enforced in the Armored. That meant finding locals and those relationships could never be about more than sex. Was Neil a subordinate, a peer, should she care at all if he was so easily able to move from paramor to paramor? She blew a lock of hair out her face in frustration. As usual, she had made a mess of things.

Junebug opened her eyes as sunlight streamed in through the windows warming her face with a pleasant heat. She had fallen asleep where she lay and the damp towels were still coiled unpleasantly about her. Reluctantly she rose and poured herself a glass of clear springwater from a carafe on the liquor laden sideboard.

“Good morning Captain Cyckali,” a pleasant female voice announced. Sayeeda nearly jumped out of her skin, scrambling for a weapon for a moment before she realised there was no threat and felt foolish.

“I apologize for startling you, I am Luxa, the AI assistant here,” the voice explained. Junebug glance around, for the source of the voice, though if there were speakers they were too well concealed for her to detect.

“I guess I’ve had more unpleasant surprises in my life,” Junebug said in a conciliatory tone.

“The Chancelor has requested your presence at breakfast, shall I let him know you will be attending?” the AI asked. Junebug shrugged her shoulders, wondering if Neil and Indra would be there.

“Provided there will be coffee you may,” Junebug replied, pulling open cupboards to find clothing, apparently tailored for her.

“I will inform the chefs of your dietary requirements.”

“What is the dress code?” she asked, uncertain of what to wear.

“Breakfast will be served on the beach, swimsuits are customary,” Luxa replied.

“Perfect,” Junebug said with a sigh.

Penny's Interests

Bump

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

“Can’t you make another light?” Amal asked as they were swept off into the darkness.

“I don’t have any more money,” Emmaline admitted, then much to her own surprise, she started to laugh and Amal joined her the pair of them roaring with the mirth of recent death narrowly averted. Amal squeezed her hand and she squeezed back

“What about the staff,” he asked. Emmaline gripped the golden staff, she could feel the magic pulsing inside the thing, though she had no idea for the moment what it did. Adding her own spell to the enchanted metal could have a variety of effects, ranging from bad to disastrously bad. She opened her mouth to tell Amal this and then a sound reached her ears. Water rushing over rocks. Amal didn’t react but then he had lived his life in an arrid landscape where water was rare. He hadn’t heard the roar of Riechbach falls, or seen the mighty Tablec tumble from its headwaters.

“Waterfall!” she yelled, “Grab hold of something!” The boat picked up speed suddenly and the roar swelled to a crescendo. Spray flicked up over her face and she grabbed hold of the boat desperately. With a horrifying lurch, the boat plunged into the darkness and water poured over them soaking them both as they plunged into blackness.

Emmaline opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back. It was still pitch black but she could feel water lapping at her ankles. Her entire body arched and throbbed. Her hand still clutched the staff in a grip that would have whitened her knuckles if she were able to see. Gathering her will she spoke the words of a spell, drawing miniature flecks of iron from the sand around her into a ball of metal that burst into a soft silver glow. Amal was sitting up beside her her rubbing his eyes and their boat lay in splintered ruins upon an underground beach. A dark passage ran from the top of the beach, eaten away perhaps by ancient flows of water.

“You… sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she muttered.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Staff of Asaph

Mesmerize the weak willed, and if thrown on the ground, will turn into a Cobra that follows Emmaline's command

@POOHEAD189

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

During her life Sayeeda had survived by making split second decisions. If an artillery strike had crashed into the room, if an extraction team had breached the door with explosives, if a sniper had opened fire, she would have known what to do. Neil’s words however, caught her completely flat footed. A number of details settled into place in her mind, the female guards, the respect paid to Gabriella, a dozen snatches of conversation at the feast. Cylonieka passed its nobility down through the female lines, but marriage to other nobles was prohibited, perhaps due to genetic concerns, or just because the political reality could not continue if the isolated island states began to knit together through matrimonial alliances. Instead they chose husbands for their skills and perhaps for their aesthetic value as well. Administrators, Admirals, and, apparently, mercenary pilot types.

Junebug sat back on her bed in confusion struggling to take it all in. She hadn’t had a chance, or more truthfully had been refusing to take the time, to sort out her feelings for Neil since their brief conversation on Hahn. Now she found herself confronted with the question point blank with an immediate response required. It took a moment to wipe the chagrin off her face and return to her normally controlled look.

“Neil if you say no it might jeopardize our agreement with…” she began but he rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in frustration.

“For once in your life stop thinking about the mission or whatever it is in your head and tell me how you feel!” the last few words were bitten out like rounds snapping out of a machine gun. Junebug was silent for a long moment.

“Neil I…” she looked away unwilling to meet his eyes for a moment. Unfortunately the beautiful artwork hanging on the wall didn’t provide any answers.

“Look I think I’m wrong… you know in the head,” she explained tapping the side of her temple in emphasis.

“I don’t know if its some sort of combat fatigue or if I was always like this ,” she went on turning back to look up at the pilot.

“Neil, I do care about you and if I’m being honest, more than care, but I don’t think I have it in me to make anyone happy.” Her smile was bleak and her body shuddered as she made the admission, her dark eyes uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“You shouldn’t throw away the chance of a lifetime on a batshit burnout like me.”

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda awakened on warm sheets so smooth they felt liquid against her tan skin. The dinner the previous night had been sumptuous in the extreme. Courses of seafood, ground fowl and other delicate meats competed with pastries, shaved chocolate and pies filled with sweet tart berries. The feast had been paired with wines of a dozen styles and worlds of origin, all of which would have cost as much as Sayeeda would have made in a month, or six months when she had been a Captain in Andor’s Armored. Gabriella and Gredorius had toasted their daughters return from her ‘travels’ and thanked her ‘friends’ for conveying her home safely and for their ‘loyal service’ whilst she had been away. It was obvious that the fact Indra had been kidnapped was being kept quiet for political reasons, though Sayeeda neither knew nor cared what the were. Junebug did not know much about wine, but she did know a lot about drinking and after eight or nine toasts it all tasted pretty much the same.

Unfortunately the aftereffects were also similar. Sayeeda let out a groan and rolled over to curl up in the fetal position. She was dressed in her bra and the formal silk skirt she had worn the night before and had a vague memory of marching arm and arm down the hallway to her suite with Taya who was expansively detailing her claim to the ancient and defunct throne of Fornax. After a few minutes she marshalled the will to crack open an eyelid.

The room was sumptuously appointed with high ceilings and floors that seemed to be sheets of solid marble, though that was doubtlessly a cast rather than a natural occurrence. Tall arches looked out over a balcony with a stunning view of the sea and the steep drop down to the beach. There was a slight shimmer around the edges of the archways, a tell tale sign of sophisticated force fields that kept weather out without compromising the aesthetics.

Vases of fresh cut flowers stood on ornately carved wooden furniture, apparently out of the same fir trees that lined the mountainside. A side board of expensive looking liquor lined one wall, above which were a series of old fashioned paper books. On the bedside table lay a silver platter on which sat a high end but otherwise perfectly normal drug infuser. A folded card beside it was marked ‘use it in good health’. Sayeeda made an undignified scrambled for the infuser, pressed it to her wrist and triggered it. There was a sharp hiss as the contents pumped into her veins. Anti-hangover cures varied tremendously throughout the galaxy and Sayeeda had tried many, but for personal choice an alcohol kelator paired with a hydration agent and a non-narcotic analgesic, couldn't be beat. She felt better almost immediately and within a minute or too she was on her feet.

The room was equipped with a large bathroom including a hot tub and a shower. She luxuriated under cool water, allowing it to wash the dust of Hahn away. It felt like the first time she had been clean in weeks and she spent a good twenty minutes allowing the water to dispel the last of her hangover.

“Sayeeda?” came a call from the main room. Sighing she terminated the shower sequence and wrapped a towel around her waist and chest, and quickly towled her hair dry. She stepped back into the main room to find Neil waiting in the antechamber.

“Whats up?”