Okay. If you're in the mood for a very strange story, this is it. It's a cross over between Sharpe series and several other TV shows. I'm putting it under the Sharpe series of books because the characters from those and my OC are the only real constants.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC. I am not making money off this. I pay homage to Bernard Cornwell for creating Richard Sharpe and the other members of the 95th Rifles. He created them and own them. I just like to borrow them on occasion. I do give them back eventually. ;)
The story is probably ten to twelve years old. I'm not sure if anyone is going to be interested in it but I thought I'd try and see what kind of response I get. So, if you like it or want me to continue PLEASE review and let me know!!
Thanks for reading.
Susanne
P.S. This is a beta free zone. All mistakes are my own so please point them out but be nice about it. I always try to fix them when they're brought to my attention.
SHARPE'S NIGHTMARE
CHAPTER ONE
The chig was bearing down on him and there was nothing he could do. Frustrated and a little scared, Cooper Hawkes burned his ship into a sharp spiral, the chig fighter close on his tail. Then there was nothing. No chig. No fighter. No space. No war.
Startled, the young invitro jumped as if he'd dreamed he was falling. There was nothing to see. He knew his eyes were open but an impenetrable darkness had enveloped him. The jump seat he'd been flying his ship from was also gone. Reaching out his hands, Cooper couldn't feel anything. It was as if he simply floated on a cushion of air without a breeze.
"What the hell?" Panic was beginning to rise, causing him to mutter to himself.
Dimly the invitro became aware of a sound growing out of the deafening silence. It seemed familiar but it's name stayed just out of reach.
"Hello, is anyone there?" it went against every instinct drilled into Cooper during his military training but could not fight an enemy he could not see or locate.
The noise grew louder. It brushed against distant memories but still no name would come. Then it came to him. Birds. It was birdsong that was filtering toward him in the darkness. It was distorted somehow so it didn't sound exactly as it should.
What happened to his fighter? Where had the chig gone? Was he dead? Is this what it felt like? The questions burned in Cooper's mind.
Time passed. He had no idea how much. The panic mounted but nothing changed. He simply drifted.
OOOOO
Sleep must have overcome Cooper at one point. It was the only explanation he could think of to account for the sudden appearance of light. Cooper was sure he would have noticed it sooner otherwise. The light was the size of a basketball and was still growing. The birds were becoming more distinct. The young invitro could make out five different calls.
"Where am I?" Cooper asked for the hundredth time. He had long ago given up expecting an answer.
"Be patient." The voice had no gender that he could detect. It was barely above a whisper and yet seemed to be everywhere.
"Who are you?" Cooper demanded.
In answer, he started to plummet toward the center of the light. Then he was through the circle and landed, hard, on grass covered earth. Rolling, he came up in a crouch, ready for anything.
What Cooper found was unbelievable, most definitely a hallucination. Maybe his ship had sustained damage in the attack and he'd been injured in the head.
Cooper crouched on a high hill. A large oak tree was to his right. A green valley lay beyond the hill. The light from the sun reflected warmly through the multitude of leaves. Birds chirped and small animals could be heard moving around in the bushes behind him.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Cooper nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't been aware of the other man's presence and nearly slugged him in the face before recognizing the white hair and penetrating blue eyes.
"Colonel McQueen? What are you doing here?" The colonel had been his wing man in the last battle but they'd been separated.
"I would imagine the same thing you are," McQueen answered. He stared at the valley stretching beyond them. "I think the sun is setting. We'd better find shelter for the night."
Grateful beyond imagining that the older invitro was with him, cooper grinned foolishly at him. "Do you know where we are, sir?"
"No. The nearest class 'm' planet to our location was eight years away. It doesn't make any sense."
Walking away from the spectacular view, McQueen headed into the trees. All either of the marines had were their coveralls that they wore under their flight armour. The various pockets were empty. Their hand guns were still strapped to their hips. He was grateful for that. At least they could defend themselves as necessary.
"None of this makes sense, Colonel," Hawkes muttered as he followed the older man's lead. He was being hyper vigilant, trying to watch every direction at one and he knew it. But under the circumstances, it seemed to be a good idea.
They were on the side of a mountain. A few feet into the forest the ground began to rise. The vegetation was thicker and getting worse. It caught at their feet and swiped their legs. Under the canopy of the leaves, the sun's light didn't penetrate well, creating deep shadows, making walking treacherous.
"Where are we going?" Hawkes asked hissing between his teeth when a low lying branch whipped him in the right shin.
"There." The colonel pointed ahead of him. All Cooper could see was darkness. Rubbing at his sore knee, he had to rush to keep up with his commanding officer.
Within a dense area of foliage, the colonel spread the leaves of a huge plan to expose a small cave that was dug out of a hillock. Cautiously, he crouched and made his way into the dark recesses.
OOOOO
One moment she'd been at home, sleeping soundly in her very own bed. The next she opened her eyes to find four hard, scruffy looking faces staring down at her.
Startled, Sandra jumped up and moved away in the same motion. Her back came to rest against something solid. Whether it was inanimate or not was anyone's guess and she truly had no desire to find out.
"Who are you?" she asked her voice sounding stronger than she felt.
"Captain Richard Sharpe, 95th Rifles, lass." The blond man directly in front of her was talking in a heavy British accent. "Who might you be?"
Sandra paused for a moment before answering. Somehow giving her real name didn't seem like a good idea so she improvised. "Sandra Herring."
If he didn't believe her, the man showed no sign of it. "Well, Miss Sandra. What are you doing here?"
"It would help if I knew where 'here' was." Fear was threatening around the edges of her thoughts. Desperately, she pushed it down. She was in trouble, big trouble. But she had no idea what kind.
"You're in Spain, lass."
The earth seemed to shift from under her. Sandra must have gone pale because a look of concern flashed over Captain Sharpe's face.
Sandra looked around for the first time and didn't like what she found. There were soldiers everywhere. Some of them looked worse than the four before her. They were filthy and smelled bad. The land they swarmed over was barren. A few pathetic trees had survived the night's cooking fires. There was very little earth and little grass. Mostly there were just rocks. They were camped in a narrow pass surrounded on both sides by steep hills that joined over a mile ahead of where Sandra sat.
"Where did you think you were, Miss Sandra?" the huge man on Captain Sharpe's left asked. He stood over six feet tall and had curly black hair and a two day's growth of beard on his cheeks and chin. He had an Irish accent that charmed her instantly.
"Somehow, I don't think you'll believe me."
"Well, Miss Sandra. Regardless of where you come from, we're getting ready to move out. When we do, I want you in the rear of the column with the rest of the women," Captain Sharpe ordered. He had no idea how this woman came to be in his ranks, a disturbing situation, but he had a battle to fight and could not be worrying about her.
Following the direction the big Irishman pointed, Sandra saw the women loading their husbands' possessions onto wagons as well as screeching children. Beyond them, also breaking camp were the prostitutes, their pimps and other hangers-on who made their living from the army. A shiver of dread ran up Sandra's spine at the very thought of joining those ranks before she could stop it.
"Are you all right, miss?" one of the other men, about the same height as Sharpe with shoulder length, curly red hair and pale blue eyes asked her. His accent marked him as another Irishman.
"Look, Captain Sharpe. I know I don't belong here and I don't want to be a nuisance. But I'm afraid that if you put me with that lot I'll be on trial for murder by day's end." For the first time Sandra became aware that all four men wore dark green jacks with a lot of buttons on them. Captain Sharpe's appeared to be silver. She could see that one of them was tarnished.
"And why would that be?" There was a small degree of amusement on Sharpe's scarred and weathered face. He really didn't have time for this. He had a battalion to organize and to do that he had to find out what their orders were.
"Because I'll kill any man who touches me." Sandra said the line with as much vehemence as she could muster even though she wasn't sure she could carry out the threat. "I may not be from around here but I know what will happen to me back there when I'm without a husband and money."