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Don’t believe all that crap they put out on the tree-dee channels about war heroes and heroines, killing the bad guys and going home to their family. I’ve seen and heard enough of that stuff already.
You know what somebody’s insides smells like? You know what to do when your buddy’s screaming her lungs out, ‘cos she’s just realised both her frakking legs have been blown off. You ever been lying in a pool of mud and frakking blood, guts and brains in your face and down your throat?
That hero crap makes me frakking sick. Those frakking armchair generals make me sick too.
I think they call the Battle for Riley’s Bluff a minor reversal, a tactical error. I call it a frakking screw up. We were pinned down, no frakking support, low on ammo, hundreds of men and women going through the grinder.
Contrary to what they say, there ain’t many women in the infantry, not unless we’re talking powered armour. Like it or not we’re not as strong, but we’re everywhere else, so we do the dying and killing just like the boys, and we did plenty of dying that day.
Don’t ask me much about what happened, ‘cept I was screaming frakking crazy afterwards. Kinda funny, ‘cos apart from this scar on my arm, I was fine. What can I say, I couldn't frakking hold it together.
Mustered out and went home, but I was pretty tough to be around. I wasn’t Daddies soldier girl anymore. Jobs didn’t work out either, couldn’t pay the rent. Drifted into Star Town, odd jobs mostly, hired gun. Think they liked having that ‘crazy bitch’ around.
Kept making the wrong decisions I guess, maybe I was too crazy, even for them. I was out on the street then, no money, just a gun and a few bullets. You know I kept a special bullet for myself. Could’ve worked the street, had a pretty face I guess, but I had too much pride for that.
I was starving then, looking through bins, getting weaker. That’s when they jumped me, probably just kids, took my gun and pushed me into the road.
There I was, lying in the gutter, rain on my face. I just wanted to die; I wanted it all to end. I looked down that tunnel and there was no frakking light there.
So this face came out of nowhere and a hand pulled me on to my feet. She had these blue eyes that cut through it all; looking at me, knowing and understanding everything. Told me she was going to a bad place, a really bad place, and needed someone that had already been there.
I guess I was mesmerised, I thought the whole universe turned around her. She clothed me and fed me, gave me back my gun; gave me back my mind.
One day, sitting in a diner, she put a bullet down on the table, not any bullet, my special bullet. I dunno how she got it. She looked at me with those eyes and told me to make a choice. I chambered the round and took the gun outside, fired it into the ground.
See this picture, this is the first picture Siandyha took of me; I think we were already in love, we just didn’t realise it yet. It was my first day on the Thunderbolt and I felt so nervous, thought I would frak it all up.
So don’t you go looking at me like I’m some kinda victim, I went to hell and came back on my own. Siandyha just showed me the way.
And yes, I love her; I would die for her.
-- Tara Alessia, Security Officer of the Thunderbolt.
It's more than two years ago that I alluded to Tara's back story, so it was about time I actually put some details there.
V3 figure with Sassy hair, SF Suit Remix outfit and Liquid Halo props. Dystopia city blocks and fence from Stonemason's Backstreets. Thunderbolt is a custom model built in Hexagon, as are the ISO shipping containers.
Post processed in Photoshop CS2.
Thanks for looking, looking forward to your comments.
- July 21, 2007
- Science Fiction
- 152.8 kB
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