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31_days2007-02-01 08:14 pm
inaqui.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-02-01 08:14 pm
[February 1] [Original] Fifth Column part 1
Title: Fifth Column part 1
Day/Theme: February 1 / a beastly proposal
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Original
Rating: M
Warnings: Not much. One little naughty word
First of a series using this month's themes.
Day/Theme: February 1 / a beastly proposal
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Original
Rating: M
Warnings: Not much. One little naughty word
First of a series using this month's themes.
“I need you to do something for me.”
Striding meaningfully down a corridor, boots clanking and her stony look sending enlisted personnel scrambling to get out of her way, those words echoed around her head no matter how Lieutenant Clara Branner tried to rid herself of them. Words that had had no meaning yesterday, other than maybe a little bit of unauthorised requisitioning of supplies. Booze, most likely.
If only. At least then she’d be drunk.
“Don’t you trust me?”
She wished she still knew. Yesterday it was all so clear. The universe, how it worked, her place in it. Orders were orders. Superiors were superiors. They said shoot and she just asked where. She was an officer and a pilot of the fleet and she would do her job if it killed her, as it probably would. Now, though… Everything was muddied up by the gun resting cold and hard against her thigh. The safety was on, but not for long. Just as long as it took for her to reach the aft hangar prep-bay.
“This is the only way. It’s this or…”
He’d never said what the other option was, but his eyes said everything. Well, she’d made her bed, or rather slept with a fellow officer in it, so she’d better fucking lie in it.
Branner opened the hangar hatch, and stepped through.
Striding meaningfully down a corridor, boots clanking and her stony look sending enlisted personnel scrambling to get out of her way, those words echoed around her head no matter how Lieutenant Clara Branner tried to rid herself of them. Words that had had no meaning yesterday, other than maybe a little bit of unauthorised requisitioning of supplies. Booze, most likely.
If only. At least then she’d be drunk.
“Don’t you trust me?”
She wished she still knew. Yesterday it was all so clear. The universe, how it worked, her place in it. Orders were orders. Superiors were superiors. They said shoot and she just asked where. She was an officer and a pilot of the fleet and she would do her job if it killed her, as it probably would. Now, though… Everything was muddied up by the gun resting cold and hard against her thigh. The safety was on, but not for long. Just as long as it took for her to reach the aft hangar prep-bay.
“This is the only way. It’s this or…”
He’d never said what the other option was, but his eyes said everything. Well, she’d made her bed, or rather slept with a fellow officer in it, so she’d better fucking lie in it.
Branner opened the hangar hatch, and stepped through.