These events occur simultaniously with those in John Dodd Jaws of the shark
OK. As a writer, I suck, but I needed to do something
tonight....
Geoff
The call came at 0900 hours…
I was in the gym doing my usual work-out, I never slept well in those days.
The alert came. Squad RPA had the call, and I was ready to answer.
The mission was clear, Thresher had staged a strike at Van Ness and Wishon, not Far from the Clubhouse. All available units were to be dispatched to counteract the menace. I was available. I liked counteracting menaces; when I wasn’t it, that is.
Operatives in the area were to gather at a rally point some 500-oddd meters from the disturbance, my comm told me. I, being a bit of a lonewolf, decided to forgo the usual rallying, proceeded directly to the disturbance itself.
What I saw came close to chilling me. A school was being attacked. Don’t get funny ideas, this was strictly business. I watched calmly as several civvies wasted themselves needlessly on a powersuited warrior. My senses twitched, as I perceived a bit of talent on the part of the suit-driver… Curiouser and Curiouser, I thought. As I awaited my moment…
The blast was weak, as such things go, but the scent of blood and fury was strong, as if the user has poured his whole being into it. “GOOD, ” I whispered to myself as the impact fell. “Put all you can into it; less for me to fight,” I thought as I looked through the scope of my custom, chopped down 30-30. “Lemme see you, boyo,” drifted through my mind as I began to take careful aim….
The Thresher agent stepped out of his suit as I began to touch his mind.
“Do it, she’s helpless,” I sent to him, as I wished a camera was within LOS.
Lust welled within the pilot as my finger began to take up slack in the trigger. “She’s all you want,” I sent to him as he began removing his clothing , in preparation for the defilement of my sister. Felt my custom pistol buck at the same moment as my mind brushed that of the would-be assailant, white-hot pain filled his being as some kind of Canine attached himself to my point of aim, concurrent with the arrival of a single, hollow-pointed slug of lead and copper. At that time I also reached the primitive brain of the DAC, leaping to the defense of it’s debilitated mistress…
The taste of blood filled my mouth as I realized that unconsciously, I had bitten my tongue, trapped, as I was, within the moment.
The creature fell backwards, manhood stripped from him, to die in exquisite agony; part of which I shared.
I realize that others escaped, but when my armaments were compared with the forces arrayed against me, I feel as if I did quite well.
As I re-loaded., my soul hummed with in recovery. I considered my options, better if this was not publicized, I thought. Better the civilians knew that they were the core of the resistance against the incursion of the enemy. Better that they knew that they could face Thresher, for this would provide us recruits unafraid of what the suppressors could do.
Lillith
Brain-Waster, Kick-murder, Cloak division
SCL 8.2A
In a de-brief to Cloak Division SD 901.7.21