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 Post Posted: Sun Feb 13, 2011 3:06 pm 
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Lackey GM Pilot

Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2011 1:51 pm
Posts: 53
Location: Flying in a blue dream
Preface:

Before I begin, a bit of history. I originally began writing this story sometime toward the end of 2004. I was inspired by a translated work by the German warrior poet Theodore Koerner, from which the title is derived. It's a proud and beautiful work and one of my favorites.

That said, there were many issues I had with my story when I first posted it. I didn't like the flow in too many places. There were some odd time jumps as well. So when I attempted to find a copy of it in order to rewrite, I found I only had a small portion remaining. It has given me more reason to start from what is essentially scratch. And it's exciting. This story (originally ten chapters long), is written in one form or another. As I find time to bang out a bit from my too- short access at the library, I shall continue to post.

I do hope it is enjoyed. I do not write for response or praise or criticism. I write because the story demands to be written.

****************

Du Schwert an meiner Linken,
Was soll dein heitres Blinken?
Schaust mich so freundlich an,
Hab' meine Freude dran!
Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!

'Mich trägt ein wachrer Reiter,
Drum Blink ich auch so heiter.
Bin Freien Mannes Wehr,
Das Freut dem Schwerte Sehr.'
Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!

Ja, gutes Schwert, frei bin ich
Und liebe dich herzinnig,
Als wärst du mir getraut
Als meine liebe Braut.
Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!

Erst tat es an der Linken
Nur ganz verstohlen blinken,
Doch an der rechten traut
Gott sichtbarlich die Braut.
Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!

Nun laßt das Liebchen singen,
Daß helle Funken springen!
Der Hochzeitsmorgen graut.
Hurra! Du Eisenbraut!
Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!


*****
Somewhere in Eastern Europe
UC 0079

"It's a tra--!"

Even inside the boiling cockpit of my Gouf, I could feel the blast of heat from Joaquin's exploding mobile suit. I was already moving toward the two enemies before the smoke cleared and the ash and glass remains scattered in the wind. There was no time to mourn the loss of the dead. Not now.

Feddies. They turned to face me, but too late. I was better, faster and their equipment too fragile. I leaped into the air, closing the distance far more quickly than they could even hope and catching them entirely by surprise. I aimed. Those five finger cannons spat fire and death in a staccato chatter. The explosive rounds chewed through the leftmost Feddie's armor with ease. Although I did not pay attention, I knew that, as it collapsed, the spindly creation was holed beyond hope.

But I did not hesitate to gloat, to bask in the glory of my victory. One enemy remained before me. I struck out at that hapless Feddie with my heat rod. The superheated tip melted a glowing spiral in his angular torso as it wrapped around his chest. Paint boiled away before the metal armor did. Not that it mattered. The rod, a serpentine cable, fed a constant and overwhelming electrical charge to the entangled mobile suit. Sparks flew. The grass below caught fire and withered away. Then its head exploded as the ammunition carried there detonated.

Two Feds. Two dead. Feds. But Joaquin had not been talking about me with his last words.

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 Post Posted: Mon Feb 14, 2011 11:57 am 
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Lackey GM Pilot

Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2011 1:51 pm
Posts: 53
Location: Flying in a blue dream
UC 0087

With a shock, Abel Bakker awoke, panting and sweating. The world around him was a messy blur of dark with dull splotches of light so far away. He rubbed his eyes in the hopes of forcing his vision to make some sense but, for a fleeting moment, he believed he was indeed blind.

"Sir?" came an insisten voice. From the growing lack of cheer it was obvious it was not the first time she had spoken. Finally the stewardess reached over for a gentle nudge.

A hand, large and strong, latched onto her wrist like a manacle. "I'm awake," Abel muttered. But as his eyes focused on the wide- eyed woman (so cute in her matching blue jacket and pants), realization dawned. His cheeks, now only barely touched by Side 3's unhealthy color, burned red in embarassment. "Sorry."

With the ship docked in an end cap and thin but breathable atmosphere in the bay, each passenger made their way out of the too- cramped vessel. Some carried nothing, relying on porters and machines to transport their belongings. Most at least carried one bag and at least one child found quite a bit of fun slinging a heavy rolling bag and laughing as it flew away with him still hanging on for dear life. The kid's cackles echoed across the large dock.

Abel carried only a large duffel slung across his back, faded green and worn. Faint lettering, which once had been black, matched the disappearing gold Zeon crest and half- stitched patches that had seen better days. It matched Abel, that bag. Both man and luggage were worn, threadbare, cast- off. Abel's square face was leathered, wrinkled and unshaven. A military- issue jacket, olive and well- worn, kept out some of the cold in the docking bay. What wasn't stopped by the jacket woke him up.

He raised a large hand to cover his eyes from the all- encompassing brightness outside the skin of the transport. He sneezed out of reflex and rubbed his face to prevent more. "Abel!" While his tired eyes struggled to adjust to the light, his ears were at the ready. "Abel!" There was the voice again. A happy, lyrical voice that did what little else in the universe could; make him smile. And smile he did, though he still could not quite make out the girl (Woman, he corrected himself) he had last seen too long ago.

The very moment he landed on the steel walkway, he left it again. Unlike before, he had no control over himself, having been entirely bowled over by a small, high- speed person. A quick response, hooking the metal handrail with his foot, saved him and his assaulter from tumbling into the wide space. "Big brother! I've missed you!" And then there were the kisses; those joyous, wondrous kisses only shared by family. And the hug! If the big man's breath had not been taken away by the tackle, the vice- like squeeze of that one hug certainly would have.

"C-can't breathe..."

*******

((Gods how I hate having a time limit. I'm not nearly so speedy on the keyboard as I once was, and it's telling. This post, the last one and the one after this are all meant to be one chapter. Oh well.))

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 Post Posted: Sat Feb 26, 2011 3:28 pm 
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Lackey GM Pilot

Joined: Fri Jan 21, 2011 1:51 pm
Posts: 53
Location: Flying in a blue dream
It had taken the better part of an hour to extricate the little family from the last group of travelers from the spaceport and send them on their way home. The roads were dark. It was the night cycle and the interior of the colony glowed with the million flickering lights of the world's most vibrant starscape.

Despite the exuberant reception, the ride home was quiet. Abel had little desire to speak; rather, he contented himself with staring blankly out the windows. Side 1 seemed so alien after the closed colonies of Side 3. There was actual sky between the crowded landscape. But, alone in his mind, Abel found the freedom and newness frightening. There was the endless void just out of hand's reach and the void reached back.

"Abel?" It was his sister, quiet and full of worry. "I'm glad you're here." Yes, the car was dark. That fact didn't seem to bother Abel at all. He could see the blush in his sister's cheeks. He could sense the hesitation and concern and relief all rolled up into one crazy ball that weighed heavily right in the center of her gut.

"I'm glad to be here too," he replied in that voice that sounded like nothing so much as dropping tombstones. He grunted, though from a stretch, and peered over into the back seat to see Adam, his rambunctious little nephew, curled up and snoring. "He's cute. Seems like a good kid."

Sirai took a long time to respond. "He's a good kid. Takes after his father."

"Lucky him."

"Abel," a pause. "I'm sorry."

And just like that the dam was broken. Words came spilling out. Everything that had happened, every tragedy, every loss, even the secret ones. But despite the lack of measure, the destruction of the last barrier of resistance, his voice stayed cool, barely wavering. They were not the words of a man repeating his life as he told his story. They were the words of a man telling someone else's story.

This fact was not lost on either sibling.

It was much later in the night when a soft knock came at the door. Footsteps light as a feather, Sirai crept down the stairs and gingerly pulled the door open. "Hey babe."

"Not tonight, Gresham," came the woman's sleepy reply.

Gresham, the tall man who filled the doorway in height and shoulder width, gave a genuinely disappointed (and unmanly) pout. "Is he in, at least?"

Sirai, for all her lack of sleep and tousled hair, narrowed her puffy eyes in response. "I am not bringing my brother into this on his first night here. Give him some time, okay?"

"We might not have time, Sirai. You know that." The narrowed eyes look remained unchanged. "I'll try to get him set up at the docks, okay? At least it's a job and we can work this out together."

"My brother is not a mark to be worked, Gresh. Remember that. He's a hero." And she turned her back to close the door. "And thanks."

*********************************************

So finally that was chapter 1 and I am glad I got it out. It should not have taken so long but there was a heavy block as I tried to get this third part looking halfway legible. I am enjoying writing again, even if the bug disappears when I work. In the next bit, things happen!

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