(no subject)
In celebration of yesterday's election, Karasu and I have started a story about war.
This is our new baby, sure to be of our usual epic proportions. ^_^ No, we are *not* stopping work on TFWC, we just needed to do something different for a while, because we had worked on the FIG trilogy for so long and we've worked on it without many breaks. So now we're starting this new story. Warnings and description are under the cut. The prologue is public, after that everything will be friends-locked. Just comment to be friended. We're not stingy. ^^
Crossing Borders
Rated: R
Genre: Science-fiction/Action/War
Warnings: War, violence, blood and gore, gay (but not as much as usual), het (don't gasp at the straight couples!), blood and gore, death, war, angst, pain, wheelchairs, science-fiction running rampant, brainwashing, experimentation, authors making stuff up by the seat of their pants, blood and gore, death, and war.
In a word...: Actually, the warnings summarize fairly well... but it involves a world (not this one) at war, and the varying people trying to either end the war or win it, including a 17 year old terrorist, an 18 year old military special ops agent with no name, a general with a stick up his ass but a soft spot for orphans, another general who can barely even hold a gun, let alone aim and fire, a spy with bordering multiple personality disorder, a refugee runner who is single-mindedly insane, and a doctor who wants to beat the entire cast about the head and shoulders. And a conspiracy. There's got to be a conspiracy. It might even be against you. ^_^
Prologue
It was not until he had actually reached the weapons bunker on the outskirts of the base that Shatani realized he might have miscalculated. Planting a few bombs there had seemed like a grand idea while it was still two towns away. Even up until scaling the fence and dropping down inside the compound, it had still seemed like a good idea.
He crouched in the shadows underneath a bush and examined the situation carefully. Four guards, all of them awake, alert, and armed to the teeth. One door, which was covered by two of the guards while the other two patrolled the surrounding area. No ventilation shafts. The only viable way to get in was probably tunneling, and he didn’t have the time or the equipment - not to even mention how he would get out before the bombs went off.
He examined the explosives in his hands. He had two sets, so it was possible that he could either blow up the wall and then get the second inside, or possibly use the first to distract them and then plant the second. If the guards would all stand in the same place long enough, one bomb would probably take all four of them out, but the patrolling guards were never both in the same place at the same time.
“If I threw it, would the fuse go out?” he muttered to himself. He was new at this terrorist stuff. He thought he probably hadn’t planned properly. He made a mental note to, from now on, explore all possible places for bombs before actually going there to plant them.
It was then that he came up with a brilliant idea. He would leave, get more bombs, and come back the next night. The clear weather was probably going to stay a few days, so it wouldn’t start raining and risk water putting out the fuses. He could make two or three more bombs in a day’s time. No problem whatsoever.
He stood up to go, and that was when a voice behind him observed, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Shatani jumped a few feet in the air and turned to see who had gotten behind him. Much to his surprise, it was a child who looked, to Shatani’s untrained eye, to be no older than his own age of twelve. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!” he hissed at the other boy.
The boy leveled him with a blank stare, which coming from his dark eyes, was rather compelling. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Shatani challenged.
“I asked first,” the boy said.
“Shatani. Who are you?”
The boy blinked at him at this terse answer. “Special operative 62512.”
“That’s a number, not a name.”
“It’s still who I am.”
“How do you know I’m not supposed to be here?” Shatani asked.
“Because I know everyone who’s supposed to be here,” the boy said, and pulled a gun out of a side holster that Shatani hadn’t noticed in the shadows. “And you’re not one of them.”
Shatani blinked at the gun now leveled at his face in utter indignation. It was standard issue for the soldiers in the base he had gotten into, but that didn’t explain why a twelve-year old would have one. Shatani figured he couldn’t be too judgmental - after all, he had a bag full of bombs, and he was only twelve years old as well. “Well, fine, if you’re going to be that way about it, I’ll just leave.”
“Don’t,” the boy said. “You have to come with me.”
“First I’m not supposed to be here, now I can’t leave,” Shatani said, with exaggerated impatience. “Make up your mind. Besides, I don’t want to go with you.”
“Don’t argue,” the boy said.
“Why not?”
The boy blinked. “Because I have a gun aimed at your face? I’ll kill you.”
Shatani considered that, then examined the gun a little bit more carefully. “How do you know I won’t kill you?”
“I don’t,” he said. “But I bet I can shoot you before you do.”
“You could probably shoot me, but I’m not sure you could kill - why are we discussing this?” Shatani asked suddenly. “I’m leaving.”
The boy’s finger tightened on the trigger. Shatani reacted instantly, lashing out and kicking the boy squarely in the jaw. The gun went off, but the bullet went over Shatani’s head. The guards jerked to attention and startled towards the area. Shatani lit the fuse on one of his bombs and tossed it at the guards as he bolted for the fence.
Just as he reached it, the boy caught up with him and grabbed him by the sleeve. Shatani tugged on his arm. “Let go!” he yelled, but the boy tackled him, knocking them both to the ground. They rolled over a few times while Shatani kicked, trying to get free. The older boy had strength that seemed utterly unreasonable for a child.
“Over here!” one of the guards yelled, seeing them scuffle on the ground. Shatani squirmed out of the grip the other boy had on him and fled into the shadows before the other had regained his feet. He crouched in the shadow of a tree, panting for breath. The guards split up to search for him.
He grinned.
A few seconds later, the weapons building exploded into the glorious flames he had originally intended.
~o~O~o~
More soon, I hope, but probably not until I'm back after vacation. Comments? Cookies?
This is our new baby, sure to be of our usual epic proportions. ^_^ No, we are *not* stopping work on TFWC, we just needed to do something different for a while, because we had worked on the FIG trilogy for so long and we've worked on it without many breaks. So now we're starting this new story. Warnings and description are under the cut. The prologue is public, after that everything will be friends-locked. Just comment to be friended. We're not stingy. ^^
Crossing Borders
Rated: R
Genre: Science-fiction/Action/War
Warnings: War, violence, blood and gore, gay (but not as much as usual), het (don't gasp at the straight couples!), blood and gore, death, war, angst, pain, wheelchairs, science-fiction running rampant, brainwashing, experimentation, authors making stuff up by the seat of their pants, blood and gore, death, and war.
In a word...: Actually, the warnings summarize fairly well... but it involves a world (not this one) at war, and the varying people trying to either end the war or win it, including a 17 year old terrorist, an 18 year old military special ops agent with no name, a general with a stick up his ass but a soft spot for orphans, another general who can barely even hold a gun, let alone aim and fire, a spy with bordering multiple personality disorder, a refugee runner who is single-mindedly insane, and a doctor who wants to beat the entire cast about the head and shoulders. And a conspiracy. There's got to be a conspiracy. It might even be against you. ^_^
Prologue
It was not until he had actually reached the weapons bunker on the outskirts of the base that Shatani realized he might have miscalculated. Planting a few bombs there had seemed like a grand idea while it was still two towns away. Even up until scaling the fence and dropping down inside the compound, it had still seemed like a good idea.
He crouched in the shadows underneath a bush and examined the situation carefully. Four guards, all of them awake, alert, and armed to the teeth. One door, which was covered by two of the guards while the other two patrolled the surrounding area. No ventilation shafts. The only viable way to get in was probably tunneling, and he didn’t have the time or the equipment - not to even mention how he would get out before the bombs went off.
He examined the explosives in his hands. He had two sets, so it was possible that he could either blow up the wall and then get the second inside, or possibly use the first to distract them and then plant the second. If the guards would all stand in the same place long enough, one bomb would probably take all four of them out, but the patrolling guards were never both in the same place at the same time.
“If I threw it, would the fuse go out?” he muttered to himself. He was new at this terrorist stuff. He thought he probably hadn’t planned properly. He made a mental note to, from now on, explore all possible places for bombs before actually going there to plant them.
It was then that he came up with a brilliant idea. He would leave, get more bombs, and come back the next night. The clear weather was probably going to stay a few days, so it wouldn’t start raining and risk water putting out the fuses. He could make two or three more bombs in a day’s time. No problem whatsoever.
He stood up to go, and that was when a voice behind him observed, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Shatani jumped a few feet in the air and turned to see who had gotten behind him. Much to his surprise, it was a child who looked, to Shatani’s untrained eye, to be no older than his own age of twelve. “Don’t sneak up on people like that!” he hissed at the other boy.
The boy leveled him with a blank stare, which coming from his dark eyes, was rather compelling. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Shatani challenged.
“I asked first,” the boy said.
“Shatani. Who are you?”
The boy blinked at him at this terse answer. “Special operative 62512.”
“That’s a number, not a name.”
“It’s still who I am.”
“How do you know I’m not supposed to be here?” Shatani asked.
“Because I know everyone who’s supposed to be here,” the boy said, and pulled a gun out of a side holster that Shatani hadn’t noticed in the shadows. “And you’re not one of them.”
Shatani blinked at the gun now leveled at his face in utter indignation. It was standard issue for the soldiers in the base he had gotten into, but that didn’t explain why a twelve-year old would have one. Shatani figured he couldn’t be too judgmental - after all, he had a bag full of bombs, and he was only twelve years old as well. “Well, fine, if you’re going to be that way about it, I’ll just leave.”
“Don’t,” the boy said. “You have to come with me.”
“First I’m not supposed to be here, now I can’t leave,” Shatani said, with exaggerated impatience. “Make up your mind. Besides, I don’t want to go with you.”
“Don’t argue,” the boy said.
“Why not?”
The boy blinked. “Because I have a gun aimed at your face? I’ll kill you.”
Shatani considered that, then examined the gun a little bit more carefully. “How do you know I won’t kill you?”
“I don’t,” he said. “But I bet I can shoot you before you do.”
“You could probably shoot me, but I’m not sure you could kill - why are we discussing this?” Shatani asked suddenly. “I’m leaving.”
The boy’s finger tightened on the trigger. Shatani reacted instantly, lashing out and kicking the boy squarely in the jaw. The gun went off, but the bullet went over Shatani’s head. The guards jerked to attention and startled towards the area. Shatani lit the fuse on one of his bombs and tossed it at the guards as he bolted for the fence.
Just as he reached it, the boy caught up with him and grabbed him by the sleeve. Shatani tugged on his arm. “Let go!” he yelled, but the boy tackled him, knocking them both to the ground. They rolled over a few times while Shatani kicked, trying to get free. The older boy had strength that seemed utterly unreasonable for a child.
“Over here!” one of the guards yelled, seeing them scuffle on the ground. Shatani squirmed out of the grip the other boy had on him and fled into the shadows before the other had regained his feet. He crouched in the shadow of a tree, panting for breath. The guards split up to search for him.
He grinned.
A few seconds later, the weapons building exploded into the glorious flames he had originally intended.
~o~O~o~
More soon, I hope, but probably not until I'm back after vacation. Comments? Cookies?