Well folks, my other story aint doin' too good. It's fine. =(. But I decided to do this. This will be a compilation of stories, all song fics. Most-to all- of them will be Trudy. Why? Cause I love her. big deal. The first one is titled after the Grateful Dead song Dark Star. I know, original Title, huh? Each of the bold and italicized phrases are the lyrics.It's something I haven't seen before, romantic wise. Enjoy! Oh, and please give me some love, won't you?
Dark Star
She went to Pandora to find hope, to find an escape from life. No more flying in and out of extreme combat zones, bullets impacting her cockpit every minute and a half. No more men screaming and crying like a child, who fell off their bike. Instead of a little scrape or a bruise, they had missing limbs, blood soaked bandages being held by their brothers, and destroyed souls. Even six years later, Trudy could hear their screams for their mothers each time she closed her eyes. Each scream was short lived. Each scream fell into a pit of silence.
Dark star crashes. Pouring its light into ashes.
What was she thinking? Always cursing herself. She may have left the war on Earth, but she had landed at Hell's Gate, literally and metaphorically. Each day there were more screams than before, she saw more lifeless bodies than living people. There was a good thing, however. She didn't have to fly them for once.
She was waiting outside by docking pad number four, standing in between two crates full of plastic explosive. A new shipment in today, recruits. She wasn't concerned with the ex-marines though. She'd seen enough Jarheads to last her a lifetime. She was there to escort the science team in. Trudy sighed and wiped her neck free of sweat. Only eight in the morning and still it was hotter than fire itself.
She was always a tough one, Trudy was. Always by herself, always alone. Did it hurt, yeah, sometimes. But the hurt went away eventually. The call and need for love was long gone. That's what she thought at least. Until the shuttle landed, that is.
"Let's go, let's go people! In the command center, this aint no walk in the park!" All the grunts raced out looking extremely trigger happy. Trudy, adorning a fatigued tank top and matching pants, stood there rolling her eyes with her arms across her chest. They rushed out towards Wainfleet and his gang, all doing their little hazing and whatnot. She scowled a bit at them.
Another group rushed off the Valkyrie shuttle, all of them wearing mixed expressions of fear, uncertainty, and wonder. Her scowl was slowly replaced with a warm smile. "Hey! Science nerds!" She called out, waving. They all looked at her, some with worry and others with disgust. "Relax, I'm just messin' with ya. Come on, I'm supposed to rally you guys up for Doctor Augustine." She turned and walked towards the entrance, fidgeting with her exopack. Glancing over her shoulder, Trudy noticed that no one followed, still looking uneasily at her. "Listen," she started, turning around and placing both hands on her hips. "I'm not gonna bite. My name is Trudy, Trudy Chacon. I'm Doctor Augustine's personal pilot… well, a pilot for the science team anyway."
"Look, if you aren't going to move… well, I don't really have a response, just move, please!" Trudy could hear a voice from the back of the group speak up. "I'm not asking again…"
Nobody moved. Growing agitated more by the moment, she snapped. Trudy pulled out her standard issue and fired a round off into the air. "I heard him ask politely. I'm gonna let you know something. Pandora blows. If you don't stop acting like children, you will die."
Reason tatters. The forces tear loose from the axis.
Everybody listens to reason eventually, but when a weapon is involved the reaction time is impeccable. "Now," she holstered her weapon again. "Everyone get moving." And so they did. Two men stayed behind, more-or-less. One of them in a wheelchair, the other was a tall and lanky guy.
"Thank you ma'am." The guy in the wheelchair spoke. Trudy gave him a sly grin.
"Hey, some people just need a little push," which was emphasized by patting her pistol, "to get moving. Trudy Chacon, ex-104th Cavalry chopper pilot, at your service." She held her hand out and the man shook it. He had Marine plastered all over him.
"Jake Sully, 48th Battalion Corporal. Nice to meet you, Ms Chacon." Trudy laughed.
"Please buddy, there aint no way in hell I'm callin' you Mr. Sully, so just stick with Trudy." Jake smiled and nodded.
"Jake, then. And this here is my pal, Norm Spellman." Jake clasped the other man on his shoulder. Trudy smiled and held out her hand.
"No formalities we could use for ya, Spellman?" She teased lightly. Norm blushed, more than he already was.
He mumbled something.
"I'm sorry, didn't quite catch that? Oh, hold on a second. Hey! Get inside, gonna get yourselves killed out here!" She shouted at a few stragglers of the science group. They looked up from their spots on the ground and took off towards the main complex. "Freakin' morons around this place. Easiest place to get your nuts swallowed by some nasty creature in the world, and they are concerned about looking at some dirt. Sorry, you were saying?"
"Uhm… D… Dr. Norm Spellman." Trudy grinned and hooked her hand wide, catching his with a lot of force. She shook it wholeheartedly.
"Nice to meet ya Doc, same to you Jake." They separated.
Searchlight casting for faults in the clouds of delusion.
It was raining. The jungle breathed death. Alien colours of cyan and purple shone through the thick and dark sky. It was nasty out. What was even worse was that Trudy was flying in it. Rounds, that's what she was making. After another sleepless night, she was tired and she was sick. She couldn't tell whether or not it was a cold or something worse, she nevertheless sneezed all over the window.
"Damn it!" Nightmares from earlier still swarmed under her eyelids, still plagued her thoughts. She had been living in a pit of her own hell for years. Now, some prick at Central Command said they "saw something" in sector twenty-nine. Basically, that meant she was out there for the next few hours.
Thunder cracked and rumbled in the distance. The rain pattered like metal buckets, instead of vice versa, on her windshield. Her SA-2 Samson didn't have wipers. Lightning struck one of the floating mountains closest to her, erupting into thousands of brilliant orange and blue sparks. A gust of wind jarred her chopper.
"Screw this." Trudy swung her bird into a slight dive, her ears popped painfully and she winced, and turned back, going to the foreword base camp where the only people she trusted were.
"Trudy," Norm stared, "you have to get some sleep. Look at you, you're a mess."
"Gee, thanks Spellman." She tried breathing through her nose, but if sounded like a thanator mating call. "Gah! Son of a bitch!" She threw herself onto the bunk, dropping her head heavily in the pillow. The rain was adding mixture to the pervasive onslaught of noise from the machinery inside the lab. They were high up in the mountains, the Hallelujah Mountains to be more precise, away from the prying eyes of the RDA and Quaritch.
"I'm not joking around Trudy. You're going to get sick." He stared down at her, but Trudy glared right back.
"I appreciate your sympathy, but don't tell me what to do." Trudy sat up and moved to the edge of the bunk. "I can look after myself."
"Ha! You're too ignorant to do that! You'd never admit you were hurt, or that you were sick! Jesus, why won't you just go and take a nap, it would do you some good. The black and wrinkles under your eyes…" Norm stopped as Trudy stood. She cracked her knuckles and shook out her shoulders.
"What was that about my eyes?"
"I… It…."
"Nice eyes you have. Aint that right Norm?" Norm sighed in relief as Jake rolled into the room.
"Yeah. I guess I'm up then?" Jake nodded. "Is Grace still-"
"Yep. She's waitin for you. Oh, and have fun with spaying a baby thanator, won't ya?" Norm's already white complexion drained even more. But he figured that it would be better than getting his ass kicked by Trudy. He scurried off.
The pod door shut and Trudy groaned. She flopped back down onto her bunk, the world spinning her conciseness into a sickening feeling in her stomach. "Oh no." She leaned over the side of the bed and began throwing up profusely. None of it hit the floor though, Jake had seen it coming. A bucket took in all of the contents.
She felt a hand hold her hair back, brushing and smoothly massaging her scalp. It felt good. Trudy passed out.
Shall we go, you and I, while we can? Through the transitive nightfall of diamonds.
The blackest of her mind ripped through her mind. Explosions and screams tore through walls she had set up, so many years ago. Again she was a small girl, crying in her father's lap as Anarchist bombs went off in every building on her street besides her own. The gunshots rang in her head like maniacal church bells, each one resonating a different tone, each one ending with a different scream.
He father would whisper in her ear, "Don't worry. They aren't going to get you. They won't get you. I won't let them." He'd flinched when a round sounded too close for comfort. Trudy could feel his tears fall onto her face. She always asked if they were ever going to get him. He always told her they'd never get her. He never included himself.
That's how he died, a bullet to the chest protecting her from their onslaught.
On the outside, Trudy could feel her body shake and convulse. She could feel her own nails tear into her flesh, drawing blood as she tried to crawl toward salvation, tried to escape herself. It was in that black of her mind, where she lost her tough. She became that little girl again, she lost her walls, and she was helpless when in there. Covered in her father's blood.
Mirror shatters in formless reflections of matter.
It was slow at first, she could feel herself shivering. Cold? Hot? She couldn't tell. Trudy knew only one thing. She felt like crap.
"My damn head." She groaned, her voice was weak and raspy.
"Trudy? Holy crap, kid. You're a tough son-of-a-bitch aren't you?"
"Grace?"
"Yeah, it's me. Jake just left; my orders. He's been making himself sick sitting around here, waiting for you to wake up. Gave us quite a scare there for a little while. Hold on, I'll go get him." Trudy kept her eyes closed. The light wouldn't feel great and she could see the beam through her closed eyes though, and she knew it would hurt like a bitch if she allowed the full force to get through.
'Why were they so concerned though? I just have some crappy virus. A twenty-four hour run and it'd be done, right?' She thought to herself. She rolled onto her stomach, laying her face down in the pillow. It was cold, it felt nice. She wrapped her arms underneath it, curling up with it. She was sore for some reason, but it felt nice. 'Wait. No bunks here feel nice.' Trudy opened her eyes into the pillow, it wasn't scratchy. They weren't at the science station anymore.
Glass hand dissolving to ice petal flowers revolving.
"Hey, Doc said you were up." Trudy felt weak when Jake spoke. She couldn't let him see her like this.
"Yeah." Her voice was muffled by the pillow. "Mind explaining." It wasn't a request, it was a demand.
Jake sighed.
'Oh boy.' Trudy thought.
"Look… you were really sick Trudy, really sick. Grace narrowed it down what it could be and finally found a cure. Good thing too… But you have had a fever. A really, really nasty fever. You twisted and turned in your sleep, you thrashed about. Hell, gave me a broken nose without being coherent." She could tell he was grinning.
"What did I have?"
"I'm not too sure. Ask Grace next time she comes in."
"Where's Norm?"
Jake took a little pause. "Why?"
Trudy slightly smiled, hearing the hint of jealousy in his voice. She might just play with it for a little while. "Just curious. Though he gets on my nerves sometimes, I kinda like him. He's not too bad looking either." She was smiling fully, trying to hold back a laugh at what she expected his face to look like.
But she could hear his wheels turn sharply. "I'll get him." And he began to leave.
"Wait, Jake, come on. I was only-"
But the door closed.
"Shit." It opened again, and she sat up roughly, groaning at the soreness in her muscles. The light hurt like hell, and she looked hopefully to see if he had come back. No, it was Norm eating an apple.
"Hey, Trudy. Jake said you wanted to see me?"
"Get out Spellman."
Lady in velvet recedes, in the nights of goodbye.
She was miserable. Lost. Dead inside. She held the telegram, the one that took two fucking years to reach her. Her mother was dead. The last of her family. Dead. She was the only one left.
Trudy walked through the complex at Hell's Gate, just wandering. Jake wasn't speaking with her. The other RDA Soldiers had ousted her as a Science nerd. She was alone. It wasn't worth it. Nobody was up. It was the perfect time. The straw that broke the camel's back had destroyed Trudy Chacon completely.
There was the airlock. It was coming up fast. Her feet moved faster that she had thought. No corwardness now. Only one thing to do. She opened it and walked out into the Pandora air. No exopack. She took for steps out and looked at Polyphemus. She screamed in fury and collapsed. She slipped into unconsciousness, not before hearing someone else screaming her name.
Shall we go, you and I, while we can? Through the transitive nightfall of diamonds.
She woke up in a room. Wooden walls, comfortable bed, no artificial light. A smell wafted through the air, her nose picked right up on it. Trudy moaned uncomfortably as she swung her legs onto the side of the bed.
Bed… That was strange. There were only bunks at Hell's Gate, besides the medical wing, and even then the walls were completely white washed. Not like here. Was she dead? She felt dead. Or maybe she felt alive. Hell, she was just hungry at that moment.
"Feels like I haven't eaten in-"
"Years." The voice spoke. She knew it right away. It plagued her dreams. It made her smile. It made her pissed off. It made her cry.
"What's going on here Jake?"
"You almost died, Trudy. Don't ever do that again." His voice was coming from a ways behind the door. She went over to it and opened it. There was a kitchen. There was a carpet and a table. There was a sofa and there was a television screen, like something from 1984. Jake was sitting at the table, poking at some eggs and toast. A cup of coffee cradled in his other hand. His hair was long. He was sitting in a chair. A chair. Not his chair. A chair.
"Jake?"
"Seven years you've been out Trudy. Seven, fucking, years. Have any idea what it's like waiting for someone you love to wake up for seven, fucking years."
"What?... What are you talking about?" She felt very light headed. 'What the hell is going on!?'
He stood up. Trudy fell onto her bottom with a gaping mouth. Jake was standing!
"Don't ask. You've kept me waiting long enough; I can keep you waiting for at least a day." He walked (WALKED!!!) over and pulled her up, gently. "This can't wait though." He brought his mouth down to hers. She was shocked, stunned, blown away. But she fell into the kiss as if it was normal. She had found her place.
Spinning a set, the stars through which the tattered tales of axis roll about the waxen wind of never set. To motion in the unbecoming round about the reason hardly matters, nor the wise through which the stars were set in spin.
Yeah? Review please? Love you guys.
spinning a set the stars through which the tattered tales of axis roll about the waxen wind of never set to motion in the unbecoming round about the reason hardly matters nor the wise through which the stars were set in spin