Chapter 2 – Aw, Shucks; or, I'm Just a Little Gal!


By the time she got to the town, the separatists already had a good hold on their position. The Republic troops Corso had mentioned were apparently still dealing with the downed walker, because there was no sign of them. Vacy ducked behind a makeshift barricade as a pair of particularly well-armed grunts jogged past. She peeked out carefully, taking note of the number of forces she'd have to get past, as well as the way they carried themselves.

The holonet newsfeed about Ord Mantell painted the separatist movement as a ragtag militia that stood little chance against the far superior Republic army. But underneath the publicly available information, there were whispers of uncertainty, rumors that there was more behind the uprising than a bunch of unhappy gun-toting hicks. Vacy tended to take a skeptical view of such unfounded speculation, but based on what she was seeing, she began to wonder if the conspiracy theorists didn't have the right of it after all.

Vacy could feel her pulse throbbing through her. She was by no means a weapons expert, but the two-handed rifles the grunts had been lugging around seemed awful fancy compared to the simple pistol she clutched in both of her hands. Fuck, she thought. Fuck this. Fuck me. Fuck everything. Fuck it all to hell. She let out a long, slow breath, carefully trying to regain her focus instead of spending more time thinking of additional ways to use a word that Bryson and Asty threw around all the time but fussed at her for even muttering under her breath.

I am so fucked.

Stars, how she missed them. Sure, they'd been annoyingly overprotective – Bryson especially – but she knew it had been because they worried about her. Then again, if they'd actually taken her on jobs instead of insisting that she stay on the Wonder, maybe she would be better able to handle a situation like this one. Speaking of which…

From the edge of the barricade, she could see that it wasn't far to the control center, but there was an awful lot of open space on the way. Plus it looked like each of the remote towers was guarded by two or three separatists, and chances were, at least one of them had a way to call for backup. Once she started moving, she'd have to work quickly, and she wouldn't get a chance to ease up until she was inside the center, where she'd be out of sight of any of their patrols.

Taking a slow breath, she pulled her pistol close and closed her eyes. Her brother's face was there in the darkness, mouth pulled up into the wry half-smirk he so often wore. Everything's leafy, Little Bit. You can do this. It's just like it's practice, all right?

Vacy opened her eyes. "I am going to kill them," she whispered under her breath. Her heart was pounding away in her chest. "I am going to kill these people, and that is okay."

There were two guards at the nearest tower. She dropped to a crouch at the edge of the barricade and aimed for the one whose armor looked a bit patchier. If I can take him out early, that's one less pistol shooting at me while I worry about the other'n.

Three shots squeezed off in rapid succession were enough to take out the first guard – and attract the attention of the second. He shouldered his rifle and aimed carefully. Vacy fired off a couple of quick shots and then ducked back behind the barricade, just before the spot where she'd been crouched exploded in a shower of dust and sparks, sending chunks of duracrete flying in every direction. Before he could recharge his weapon, Vacy stepped out again, took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The shot hit him just above his right eye, and he stumbled forward and fell, his rifle clattering uselessly to the pavement.

She ran forward and knelt beside the control tower. Its power console was at the base. While she thought it wouldn't be too difficult to slice into the console and shut the tower down that way, there was a much quicker method: she pointed her blaster at the console and fired several times. The machine sputtered, thin wisps of smoke trailing from the now-destroyed screen.

Glancing around quickly to make sure no one was running toward her, she headed for the next tower. Vacy purposefully slowed her stride and took smaller steps as she watched another separatist patrol pass by it, exchanging a few brash remarks with the group of guards stationed there. Past the tower and across the street, she could see another barricade, which would provide decent cover for an attack on their position. She gave the group a wide berth as she edged toward it, but a sudden shout told her that it hadn't been enough.

Without so much as a rock to use for cover, Vacy dropped to a knee, muttering some exceptionally unladylike phrases under her breath. Her first shot was another hit, and one of the separatists dropped with a cry, but a moment later she felt the sting of a blaster bolt in her shoulder, and her next shot flew wide, scorching the pavement several feet away. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to ignore the pain and concentrate on killing the other two men.

She heard the whine of a rifle charge and jumped to her feet, zigzagging away. But out in the open it wasn't difficult for them to keep her in their sights, and she gasped in agony as the rifle blast seared her thigh. Her leg gave out under her, and she tumbled toward the ground, muscles tensing for the impact. Despite the instinct to throw out her hands to catch herself, she remembered to tuck into a roll instead, taking the jolt on her uninjured shoulder.

Bruised and disoriented, Vacy wrenched upright and found herself next to one of the guards. Looking up, her gaze locked with his, and time seemed to freeze. There was a sound like a sneeze, then she heard him draw a breath in surprise as his features relaxed and he crumpled to the ground. Her blaster was warm in her hand, even though she didn't remember taking aim and firing.

The other guard was tugging at the cartridge on his pistol; it must have jammed after he'd shot her. But when he heard his partner collapse, he turned, eyes wide with sudden fear. "No – wait – " he began, but she fired twice, before he could even finish his plea.

The command center looked further away than it ever had. Vacy tried to take slower, deeper breaths, but it still felt like her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her body. Am I going into shock? Or is that just the adrenaline? She stood gingerly, but as soon as she took a step with the leg that had been hit, pain shot through her, and she could see more blood seeping into the charred fabric of her formerly-best pair of trousers. Wish I could tell if I was dying or if I'm just a damn pansy.

The patrol that had passed by earlier had reached the edge of the town and was doubling back. She knew she couldn't risk taking the time to patch herself up properly. And there was just one more tower that remained between her and the command center. Then again, she debated, my movement is slower and trying to attack that last remote station in this condition is suicidally foolish.

Vacy knew she didn't have much in the way of supplies – one medpack, a stimcell, and a couple of ration bars. The separatists' attack had blown the door to the center clean off, and she could see down the long, empty hallway that led to the interior. If she could just make it that far, she'd have a chance to breathe a bit easier and treat her injuries more thoroughly.

Her fingers trembled a bit as she tore at the flimsiwrap that covered the stimcell. She set her teeth, then jabbed the activator into the meaty part of her thigh, pressing her thumb tightly against the button that released the potpourri of chemicals into her system.

The rush of sensation was dizzying, and she shook her head to clear it. Blinking, she realized she hadn't noticed her vision going hazy, but the sudden sharpness revealed just how bad it had gotten. Better pay more attention. If I've got to be at point-blank range just to hit what I'm shootin' at, I'm in real trouble. She pointed the barrel of her blaster at the tower's console and fired several times.

As she jogged over to the barrier she could use as cover for her final attack, she could feel the protests from muscles and tendons in her shoulder and her leg. But thanks to the stim, the pain was distant. Manageable. She crouched down on her good knee, leaning up against a durasteel pipe. There were only two separatists guarding this tower – another tech-and-soldier combo, it looked like. But they hadn't noticed her yet. She aimed carefully for the tech and half-squeezed the trigger to charge up a heavy shot. As she watched him, she could see that he was trying to flirt with the soldier, a burly female who was trying not to smile. Probably the reason they don't see me. Sorry, fella.

When her partner staggered back and dropped to the ground, the other guard brought up her weapon and fired, but Vacy had already ducked down again, and the shot fizzled uselessly against the metal pipe. She kept up the same strategy as before: pop up, shoot, duck back, breathe. The woman's armor seemed to be a bit more scorched than it had been, and her stance was unsteady. Vacy propped herself up, keeping her weight on her good leg, and aimed carefully, holding the trigger in the half-squeeze that let the pistol charge again.

She saw the soldier's rifle flash, and a moment later, something punched her in the gut just as she pulled the trigger and fired, sending her enemy to the ground. Her chest felt unbearably heavy, and it was getting hard to breathe. As her knees buckled, she felt her eyes stinging at the unfairness of it.

Vacy blinked up at the Ord Mantell sky. Wispy clouds drifted slowly past, and she felt oddly peaceful. I'm sorry, Bryson, she thought. I tried.

And with that, she closed her eyes.


Author's Note: So the chapter title is actually a reference to World of Warcraft. If you play a sorcerer, your first summoned creature is a little imp who does not like to be sent off into combat and throws these adorable wee fits. He says things like "This! is! not! in! my! CONTRACT!" as he goes hopping off to attack whomever you've targeted.

And I just can't seem to resist ending a chapter on a cliffhanger! But have no fear, readers; this is not the end of Vacy's story! (Though I'm sure you already realized that if you've looked at the list of stories on my profile...) Hopefully this was appropriately exciting despite the fact that we know she will be successful; the question is just how she manages to succeed when things look so bleak.

Here's a hint: it just might involve a shout-out to The Princess Bride.

Combat has always been one of the types of writing that I struggle with the most. While it's become less impossible the more practice I get with it, I still don't find it easy. Figuring out what is unique about each encounter is definitely a challenge, but I feel like that's necessary to keep the story from getting repetitive. So I want to send out a special thanks to my sounding board, Nerica, who kept encouraging me the whole way through! I couldn't have done it without you. :)

And thanks to all of you for reading. Drop me a note to say hi! ^.^