Post by MING on Feb 27, 2010 18:04:43 GMT -5
Constantinople had seen it's share of sieges, having been held by both the Roman, Byzantine, Latin and Ottoman Empires in bygone times. So the Federal task force arriving to place the city under yet another was nothing it hadn't seen before.
For Persephone, it was also something she had experienced before. Though, before...
I guess this time I'm really on my own...
So while most of the base personel ran to and fro setting up defenses and preparing for the Federal onslaught, Persephone was walking the ancient streets, a personal media device playing music that Diego had introduced her to, something he referred to as "rock". Her wandering had not real direction, just a left here, a right there. So when she found herself in a fairly deserted street, watching a small convoy of Zeonic vehicles roll by, she was surprised to feel a distantly familiar presence. In a way, it reminded her of Diego, so, she began to follow the vehicles. It was silly, after all. She felt Diego die, his final thoughts echoing in her mind. And yet the pull from the convoy was strong, and she had long grown used to following her feelings.
She obviously couldn't keep up with the vehicles on foot, at least not on the same path as they were driving. But Constantinople was an ancient place, with many paths to get where one might need to go. Taking alleys, sidestreets, hidden passageways and occasionally rooftops, Persephone continued to home in on the distant and echoing feeling she had caught inside the convoy.
What is this feeling? Who's in that truck?
The questions repeated in Persephone's head as she continued to run. Occasionally, the focus of strangers upon her broke her concentration on the presence. She had to admit, a fair-skinned girl wearing a dress and scarf running through the streets would probably seem odd to most of the inhabitants. Her breathing labored, she felt herself drawing in on the sensation, now no longer moving itself, and distantly recalled this was the same area Federal POWs were being held.
Taking a few halting steps, she watched as the back of the armored vehicle she was following openned, two armed guards immediately joining four others already standing outside the lowered ramp. Slowly, she stepped closer, eliminating the soldiers as the source of the feeling.
"Out, Feddie, on your feet." one of the soldiers said, motioning with his downward pointed rifle.
"That bitch Garahau arrange for the only troop transport without shock absorbers? Or did she just request you to hit every divot and pothole you could?" a man replied from inside, obviously the Federal prisoner. As he stepped down the ramp, Persephone could make out that he was a tall, lean man with dark hair, unkempt and several days worth of stubble adorning his face. He wore dirty and ripped pilot's overalls, with federal insignias and a rank badge of 1st Lieutenant. As he turned toward her, the stenciled name of "Dolvich" became visible.
"You're just lucky we didn't tie your ass to the bumper and dragged you here," the soldier replied, pushing Dolvich with his rifle butt. Wearing connected ankle and wrist restraints, the Federal pilot stumbled and muttered to himself, the words not audible to Persephone. The draw she felt toward this man was immense, like gravity. Several of the guards noticed her, shifting their weapons to allow for quicker response if she was determined a threat. Dolvich, noticing this, glanced in her direction. Her gaze met his, and a flood of feelings and thoughts jolted Persephone, stopping her midstep.
She saw the lonely childhood, a boy growing up without family and only a few friends. She saw the violent transition from boy to man. She saw the meeting between the awkward teenager and a girl, and the feelings that developed. She saw the man, happy, holding the woman, now with child. And she saw the woman and child torn away, in an inferno of nuclear fire. And the black hatred that came after.
A single thought forced itself to the front of Persephone's mind, a simple and cold statement of intention.
You bastards took my family from me, twice... I will never forgive you.
When Persephone returned to her senses, she was being held up by one of the Zeonic soldiers, a second one glancing over her credentials, having taken them from the pocket of her lightweight jacket at some point. The prisoner, Dolvich, was already gone. One of the soldiers was saying something, and she forced herself to focus on his face to understand the words.
"...cialist Dawn, are you alright? Do you require us to contact medical assist..."
Persephone shook her head, getting back to her feet using the soldier as a support.
How was he alive? After all these years? And how was he here? She attempted to push away from the soldier and move toward the building she felt the Federal prisoner inside, stumbling and finding herself caught and held back up by the Zeon soldier.
"Alek..." she whispered as the sound of a jeep stopping behind her announced the arrival of her Flanigan handlers.
For Persephone, it was also something she had experienced before. Though, before...
I guess this time I'm really on my own...
So while most of the base personel ran to and fro setting up defenses and preparing for the Federal onslaught, Persephone was walking the ancient streets, a personal media device playing music that Diego had introduced her to, something he referred to as "rock". Her wandering had not real direction, just a left here, a right there. So when she found herself in a fairly deserted street, watching a small convoy of Zeonic vehicles roll by, she was surprised to feel a distantly familiar presence. In a way, it reminded her of Diego, so, she began to follow the vehicles. It was silly, after all. She felt Diego die, his final thoughts echoing in her mind. And yet the pull from the convoy was strong, and she had long grown used to following her feelings.
She obviously couldn't keep up with the vehicles on foot, at least not on the same path as they were driving. But Constantinople was an ancient place, with many paths to get where one might need to go. Taking alleys, sidestreets, hidden passageways and occasionally rooftops, Persephone continued to home in on the distant and echoing feeling she had caught inside the convoy.
What is this feeling? Who's in that truck?
The questions repeated in Persephone's head as she continued to run. Occasionally, the focus of strangers upon her broke her concentration on the presence. She had to admit, a fair-skinned girl wearing a dress and scarf running through the streets would probably seem odd to most of the inhabitants. Her breathing labored, she felt herself drawing in on the sensation, now no longer moving itself, and distantly recalled this was the same area Federal POWs were being held.
Taking a few halting steps, she watched as the back of the armored vehicle she was following openned, two armed guards immediately joining four others already standing outside the lowered ramp. Slowly, she stepped closer, eliminating the soldiers as the source of the feeling.
"Out, Feddie, on your feet." one of the soldiers said, motioning with his downward pointed rifle.
"That bitch Garahau arrange for the only troop transport without shock absorbers? Or did she just request you to hit every divot and pothole you could?" a man replied from inside, obviously the Federal prisoner. As he stepped down the ramp, Persephone could make out that he was a tall, lean man with dark hair, unkempt and several days worth of stubble adorning his face. He wore dirty and ripped pilot's overalls, with federal insignias and a rank badge of 1st Lieutenant. As he turned toward her, the stenciled name of "Dolvich" became visible.
"You're just lucky we didn't tie your ass to the bumper and dragged you here," the soldier replied, pushing Dolvich with his rifle butt. Wearing connected ankle and wrist restraints, the Federal pilot stumbled and muttered to himself, the words not audible to Persephone. The draw she felt toward this man was immense, like gravity. Several of the guards noticed her, shifting their weapons to allow for quicker response if she was determined a threat. Dolvich, noticing this, glanced in her direction. Her gaze met his, and a flood of feelings and thoughts jolted Persephone, stopping her midstep.
She saw the lonely childhood, a boy growing up without family and only a few friends. She saw the violent transition from boy to man. She saw the meeting between the awkward teenager and a girl, and the feelings that developed. She saw the man, happy, holding the woman, now with child. And she saw the woman and child torn away, in an inferno of nuclear fire. And the black hatred that came after.
A single thought forced itself to the front of Persephone's mind, a simple and cold statement of intention.
You bastards took my family from me, twice... I will never forgive you.
When Persephone returned to her senses, she was being held up by one of the Zeonic soldiers, a second one glancing over her credentials, having taken them from the pocket of her lightweight jacket at some point. The prisoner, Dolvich, was already gone. One of the soldiers was saying something, and she forced herself to focus on his face to understand the words.
"...cialist Dawn, are you alright? Do you require us to contact medical assist..."
Persephone shook her head, getting back to her feet using the soldier as a support.
How was he alive? After all these years? And how was he here? She attempted to push away from the soldier and move toward the building she felt the Federal prisoner inside, stumbling and finding herself caught and held back up by the Zeon soldier.
"Alek..." she whispered as the sound of a jeep stopping behind her announced the arrival of her Flanigan handlers.