Name: Androgene (formerly known as Cyberoid13)

Website:

Email: androgene@lycos.com

Title: The Tranquillity Massacre (side story 2)

Summary: the title says it all

Date of completion: 10 Nov 2001

Category: Drama, angst, violence, gore and blood

Rating: NC-17

Author's notes:

This is a filler fiction, to wrap up the 'what happened to Robin?' question. I wrote this simultaneously with 'Reconciliation'. You could either read this before or after reading 'Reconciliation'. When I find a suitable spot in the main story, I will also place a marker there so as to prompt you to read this first.

As a side story, the length of it should be kept short. Yet I hope I have placed enough emotions and drama in here to impact the reader with the tragedy that had struck Colt. 

Disclaimer:

All 'Saber Rider and Star Sheriffs' characters belonged to World Event Production. I make no money from them and I do not own them.


~ The Tranquillity Massacre  ~

(side story 2)


       It was a day like any other days in the sleepy and peaceful community of Tranquillity.

Robin pushed open the window of her classroom, smiling happily at the sound of laughing children on their way to school.

"Good morning, Robin."

She turned her cheerful smile to the passing gardener. "Morning to you, Robert. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. The sky is clear and so blue." Robert took a deep breath. "It's gonna to be a good day."

The gardener eyed the cheery schoolteacher with a twinkle in his eyes. "You seem especially happy today, Robin."

"Do I?"

"Isn't your cowboy coming for a visit today?"

Robin's dreamy smile answered his question.

"Ah, young love." Robert sighed. "I can still remember the days when I courted my wife like it was yesterday. Where did all the time go? Now I'm just an old bag of bones."

"You're not that old, Robert."

"I'm old enough to be your grandfather, girl." The gardener walked up to her. "Listen to me, Robin, that cowboy of yours is a good man. He'll make a wonderful father someday. So don't let him slip through your fingers, do you understand?"

"I understand, Robert. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Robin." The gardener plopped his hat back on. "Well, got to get going. See you later, Robin."

*      *      *

"One hundred and one…one hundred and two, and the pretty schoolteacher make one hundred and three. Not bad for a small community." She lowered her scopes. "Living in a box canyon...bad news for them, good news for me."

War tossed the scopes to one of her underlings. "Saddle up, soldiers."

"What about Death, my Lord?"

"We're not waiting for him," War replied curtly as she mounted her red mecha warhorse.

From head to toes, she was clad in blood-red armour that had seen numerous battles. The long thick braid of equally crimson-red hair was the only indication of her sex. Her energy blade blazed into life, a burning crimson red casting a bloody glow onto the ground. Beneath her full-face helm, she licked her lips in anticipation.

"If he misses the fun, it's his problem."

"I'm just here to observe, brother."

War turned as Death rode up to her raiding party. Seated atop of his pale vicious horse, and shrouded completely in a corpse-hued cloak with its hood raised, Death cuts an enigmatic and foreboding figure. He was the exact opposite of her nature. While War's violent passions rages hot, Death's run cold like a blizzard.

Death brought no raiding party with him, only his living scythe and two of his Renegade-Hounds. 

Death gazed down at the unsuspecting community. "That is my order."

"I resent your presence, Death. This is my raid."

"Conqueror has his reasons for wanting me here. It has nothing to do with you."

"What reasons?"

"Conqueror keeps his own counsel, brother. You know that as well as I do."

In a flash, her energy blade was aimed straight at his chest. Death gazed at her evenly, unfazed by the glowing crimson blade. Behind him, Scythe stiffened, all too ready to attack War.

"He's just toying with you – human." The Red Horseman's words were deliberately phrased to hurt. "One day, he'll grow tired of you and he'll find a more worthy replacement."

Death smiled, a thin heartless smile that made War pause. "If that day ever comes to be, I'll still do what I do best."

"Just as long as you can slake your thirst, huh?" Beneath her own helm, a slow smile curved War's lips. She chuckled and lowered her energy blade. "I pity those who stand in your way."

War turned back to the settlement. "This will be a quick one."

"Leave some for me. Or Scythe won't be happy."

"You spoil your little weapon." Scythe hissed at that insult. But War took no notice, her mind fully focused on the bloody task ahead. Beneath her helm, she bared her fangs in a bloodthirsty grin.

"It's going to be a good day."

*      *      *

Death watched as War and her raiding party swept through the community, crushing everything in their path. Screams of terror were drowned by the savage attacks of the raiding party. Fires broke out and rapidly spread through the community; the burning stench mingled with that of blood.

Just ahead, he could see War laughing as she cleaved a helpless human into halves with her energy blade. War flashed her energy blade high in the air, her triumphant cry echoing through the burning community.

Behind him, Scythe squirmed restlessly in Scythe's seat. The smell of carnage was getting to Scythe. "Master…"

"Patience."

War rode up to Death. He didn't have to see her face to sense the euphoric high she was on. "Left some for you as you wanted, brother. How will you sentence them?"

Death dismounted. With Scythe at his side, he headed for the schoolhouse. Somewhere deep inside him, distant and very faint, there was a twinge of deja vu. Absently he wondered why the building seemed so familiar to him, even as he unerringly tracking the whimpering sounds of fear to one of the classrooms.

He paused at the doorway when he spied the blond female schoolteacher armed with a rifle. Cowering behind her were five young children, whimpering and crying. The schoolteacher brandished the weapon at him.

"Stay back or I'll shoot," she warned bravely despite her obvious fear.

Again the twinge of familiarity touched Death, irritating him further.

"Run, Robin!"

Death whirled and ducked, just as a rifle went off behind him. His quick reflexes saved him from injury but the bullet grazed the side of his hood, knocking the cloth away from his head. With a howl of fury, Scythe pounced onto the shooter, tearing into the hapless human apart with Scythe's bare hands.

"Robert!" the schoolteacher screamed. She turned stricken eyes to the invader and froze.

Death ignored the screaming human being savaged by Scythe behind him. He approached the schoolteacher, his energy blade glowing with a pale cold light.

Robin cowered back, the rifle clattering from nerveless fingers. She stared in helpless fear at the approaching raider, looking upon the face of her enemy for the first time. As she stared at that face half-concealed beneath the skeletal crest of bone, the most insane thought suddenly occurred to her.

"You!" she blurted out in sudden recognition. "I...know you!"

Death grinned. "Everyone knows Death."

The pale glowing rose.

The classroom suddenly fell silent.

Death sheathed his energy blade, shuddering as the brief spasms of pleasure thrilled through him. For a long moment, he stared at the pile of bodies at his feet, wondering why these particular deaths brought him only physical pleasure but no joy.

With slow measured steps, Death left the classroom, pausing briefly at the doorway to give the dead bodies one last thoughtful look. Then he was gone in a swirl of his robes, the hood pulled low over his face once more.

Scythe was promptly by his side. "Are you hurt, Master?"

"Do I look hurt?"

Scythe cringed at his irritated tone. "Scythe is sorry, Master. Scythe should not have doubt Master. But Scythe killed bad man who tried to hurt Master."

"Bad man..." Death murmured amusedly.

Scythe nodded vigorously.

"And what am I, little one?"

"Good man 'cause Master takes care of Scythe."

A gauntleted hand gently ruffled Scythe's silver hair. "Did you enjoy yourself, little one?"

"Yes." Scythe beamed up at him, leaning into the touch. "Scythe had a wonderful time."

They emerged from the school building where War was waiting impatiently. Death gestured imperiously to his two Renegade-Hounds.

"Burn the building," he ordered.

*      *      *

       Oh God, Colt prayed, trying to keep the overwhelming fear at bay. Please, don't let me be too late. Please, Lord…keep her safe. I don't know what I'll do without her. Please…

Bronco-Blaster screamed as it cut through the sky, scattering clouds and birds. Far to its starboard, Ramrod matched its speed, its deeper roar adding to the din in the sky. Below on the ground, Red-Turbo took the terrain almost mercilessly in its determination to reach their destination.

       "Kisama!" Fireball swore through gritted teeth as he spotted the thick plums of smoke rising in the distance. "April, any sight of the Outlaws?!"

       "No," came the terse response. "They aren't showing on the rangefinder. Whoever they are, they are long gone."

       Bronco-Blaster dove through the thick smoke and came to a barely dignified landing. Colt leapt out immediately, running for the school, fear and adrenaline giving him extra speed.

       "Robin!"

       Heedless of the dangers, Colt plunged into the burning building.

       "ROBIN!"

Excerpt from Fireball's journal:

       The Tranquillity Massacre was just one among the casualties of Outlaws' attacks. From the usual M.O., we figured it was the same band of Outlaws who specialised in raiding small communities. Their attacks were fast and merciless, razing the helpless town to the ground and leaving behind no survivors.

By the time we had received the SOS Tranquillity was already badly hit. And when we finally got there, it was all too clear that we were too late.

Tranquillity was destroyed and its people dead.

(Pause as Fireball took a deep calming breath, trying to keep the tears at bay)

It might have been easier for us if we hadn't known the town on a personal basis, if we weren't familiar with all the people living in Tranquillity. The Tranquillity Massacre hit too close to home and it affected us badly. April cried for days, mourning for the simple folk who made us welcomed in their little community. I-I kept seeing their corpses in my dreams.

And Colt...

       Colt did not take the news well. His one love, the girl he was planning to marry, was dead as well, at the hands of the Outlaws. She had died in the fire that consumed her school, died trying to protect the schoolchildren she was fond of.

She did not deserved to die like that.

       (Pause. Fireball forced himself to keep writing, even though his hand trembled violently)

I worry about Colt. He's completely devastated, broken, utterly consumed by grief and hatred. All that is on his mind now is vengeance, to make the murderers pay for their wanton cruelty. I feel so helpless, watching him drown in his anguish. There's nothing April and I could do to help ease his pain, except to be there when he goes ballistic. I can almost understand how he feels. If I lose April…I don't know what I'll do.   

       (Fireball shut his journal, unable to continue writing, and buried his face in his hands).

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