Friday, April 29, 2011

Agent of Faith - Part 4.

Cloaked in silence, Corinthia Grael's somber steps carried her forward to a knot of palatable tension. Confusion plainly written on their faces, they stared at her as they  fought to grasp at some measure of understanding. What could this tiny figure clad in chrome and bearing nothing more than some blade really think she could accomplish? Surely the New Republic did not think they could placate them with some little girl.

Politely, Grael spoke in soft, hushed tones as if addressing a frightened child. "Excuse me," she whispered, and without thought the tight ring of men parted slightly to allow her access to a gruff and stern figure standing in their midst. In his hands was a makeshift bomb, his brow dripping with sweat. Eyes dark as coal bored into her, and she welcomed them with her own. Nervously his gaze darted away to scan about as he shifted his stance. Something about his behavior tugged at the back of Corinthia's mind. Desperate and misguided this man might be, but he bore all the hallmarks of someone terrified.

Maintaining her veiled demeanor, Grael began to calculate what she could from the man before her. He was willing to threaten soldiers of the New Republic, even willing to hold a bomb. But was he willing to sacrifice his own life, or that of innocent civilians all around him? Unknown to the troops in the distance, Grael made careful note of the man's finger- it wasn't even resting on the trigger. That lead Agent Grael to only one conclusion; this man was afraid to die, and therefore afraid of the very thing he wielded as leverage.

Standing in the midst of the tightly clustered group of dissident colonists, Grael flushed a deep rose-purple. Their guard lowered, it took several breaths before understanding caught up with what they were seeing. Her voice rang out loud and echoing; "The New Republic always keeps a promise. And this one I am here to deliver; For loss of faith and defiance your lives are forfeit!" With a deep roar Grael drew forth her chain-blade and swung it across in an arc to cleanly sever the bomb from the hands that held it. Letting the momentum carry her she pulled her blade into a spin and ripped into those that surrounded her. Violently men fell in bloody heaps as soldiers watched on, many standing in shock and lost as to what action to take. Those who had yet to feel the bite of her blade tried to bring their own guns and weapons to bear against her, but without the threat of the bomb their morale faltered before the brutal and savage display that had so suddenly gripped them.

As reality slammed back home, soldiers opened fire, sending the rest of the rebellious forces to their ends. Whimpering at her feet, a crumpled figure sat without hands to look up at her beseechingly. "We only sought to regain the support the New Republic used to provide. Please, we never meant for this."

"And yet you would deny others your own support? Your greed has corrupted you. Behold the cost of your actions." As teary eyes took in one last view of carnage that surrounded him, the final sound he heard was a humming buzz.