NationStates Jolt Archive

Village Twelve, Somewhere in the North-West of Midlonia.

The village sat in the darkness, its lights off, giving a strictly unfriendly aura. Cars lay abandoned; newspapers, bikes, rubbish bins awaiting collection, all lay abandoned.

With a hiss and a groan a small steam engine rounded the corner, the rails screamed in protest under the weight as it etched its way along the track, a goods wagon and flat truck followed faithfully. A few moments late and another loud hiss causes the locomotive to come to a stop.
‘Why the hell have we stopped?’ a voice thundered from inside the van.
The door flung open and out jumped an irate looking officer; she stormed along the length of the short train and clambered up into the cab.
‘Why the hell have we stopped?’ she repeated again.
‘Because we are here, madam.’ Replied the driver.
The officer hit the driver lightly round the back of the head. ‘That’s Commissar to you.’ She snarled, and then jumped back off of the locomotive.
‘Get out, c’mon, out now! ’ she yelled as she slammed her fist against the side of the van.
A few young men and women got gingerly out of the wagon, hefting their pulse rifles and looking around at the bleak and dreary darkness, some straightened their dark brown trench coats.
‘Ok we’re here; our simple task for you morons is to keep an eye on this little village, understood? Privates Jenkins and Lynch? You’re on guard duty tonight; rest of us will be headed to a suitable place of residence.’
‘Commissar? What about the jeep?’ one of the soldiers, Lynch, asked.
‘Get the bloody thing off of the truck lad, c’mon, hop to it!’
George nodded and ran to the flat truck, with a push of a button the ramps inside folded out, he then walked up onto the wagon and gunned the jeep down off of the truck.
The four others climbed aboard, and the jeep, with headlights blazing, gunned into the darkness.
Shaking his head, and mumbling a few curse words, the driver opened the regulator on the locomotive, which clanked away into the darkness, silence befell the little yard once again.

The jeep tore along the road, things illuminated in the beams of light, isolated houses, cars piled up by the road, bins awaiting collection that’d never come.
After a few minuets, the jeep entered the village itself.
‘Pull over for a minute will you? Over there’ Commissar Garrett stuck her arm out in the direction of a small, brick built building.
Lynch turned the jeep sharply, causing it to spin 180 degrees, before coming to a safe stop next to the building itself.
‘Try a stunt like that again, and I’ll have you shot.’
‘Yes Madam Commissar.’
Garrett got shakily off of the jeep and kicked open the door to the small building.
A few seconds later, the building, and then the streetlamps lit up the village.
‘That’s a bit better; now then, there should be a pub around here where we can hold up…’ She remounted the jeep and nodded, Lynch pulled away slowly.
After a minute or so drive, they pulled up in front of the Crown and polish a small, dreary looking building that had definitely seen better days.
‘This’ll do.’, she hopped off of the jeep and looked at the door.
Lynch killed the engine and got out also, he then hefted his, and his Commissar’s kit bag, the others grabbed their own.
‘Dratted thing is locked, doesn’t anyone trust to leave their doors open these days?’
Garrett got out a skeleton key and fiddled with the lock, after a second, it swung open with a loud creak.
‘Lynch, Jenkins? Off you go, walk around the village, it should only take an hour or so’ she grabbed the kitbag. ‘The rest of you can come in and set your stuff up.
The two privates grabbed their Pulse rifles and wandered off into the village.

Turning back into the pub Sally Garrett threw Lynch’s kit bag onto a long, padded bench. She took her own to another bench and began to carefully unpack her things.
All this over that stupid incident, all this! Fucking General Harrison, a woman refuses to give a general a blow job, and winds up on duty babysitting a bunch of morons, who have just
She gritted her teeth and slammed some polish down onto the bar table next to her.
‘Commissar?’
‘What?’ Sally snapped.
‘Why are you crying?’
‘None of your fucking business.’ She mopped her eyes.
‘Yes Commissar.’ Nodded the private, Ferguson was her name; she continued to unpack her own kitbag in silence.

Streets of Village 12

With his boots crunching lightly on the road, Private Lynch cleared his throat.
‘What is it?’ replied Private Kirsty Jenkins.
‘Uh? Oh, nothing’
A crow cawed and flew into the sky, Lynch grabbed his Pulse rifle and pumped the level next to the trigger, the gun whined to show it was ready to fire, Kirsty laughed.
‘Easy Tiger, it’s only a crow.’
‘Oh, uh, sorry… little nervous… y’know.’ Lynch pulled the lever on the gun down once, and left it there, the whining soon slowed, then stopped.
‘First assignment?’ Kirsty asked, a smile creeping onto her face a little.
‘Yeah, got the blue letter about six months ago, rushed through training, and then got this shitty assignment, you?’
Kirsty laughed. ‘Full timer, I was in the battle of the perimeter, and intend to stay until I get killed.’
‘You were at the perimeter?’
‘Mhmm’
‘Wow, so, why you here?’
‘Sent because I killed three of our own men.’
‘Whoa, penal duty huh? Why did you kill them?’
‘They tried to rape me, there were four, the survivor said I just flipped out, on drugs or drunk or something, then I got kicked out here as a punishment.’ She sighed and let her rifle slip from her back to her arms. Lynch just stared at her.
‘Quit it, I won’t hurt you, unless you try to hurt me, ok?’ she looked up ahead of her. ‘What the…?’
Lynch looked in the direction Jenkins was looking, a small girl, no more than eight or nine was standing in the road, her head was tiled to one side in curiosity.
‘Hey you! Stay right there.’ Kirsty called. ‘I thought this place was abandoned?’
‘It is according to Commissar.’
They both walked slowly towards the little girl, Sally knelt down near her and mimicked her look, her clear blue eyes shone back.
‘Hello, what’s your name?’ she asked gently, her words soft and cooing.
The girl’s outline suddenly grew faint, and then she had disappeared completely, Kirsty stared, then yet out a yelp of surprise.
‘What the hell happened? What was that!?’ she gabbled rapidly.
‘A ghost… I think’ replied Lynch, his voice barely over a whisper.
‘Let’s get the hall back, and quickly.’
They both turned to run but were stopped short by the girl standing there.
‘Follow.’ She commanded, he voice echoed as if from nowhere, and yet everywhere.
She turned and began to walk steadily away from them. When she was cast in light her body appeared solid, yet in the darkness it glowed and shimmered under the light of the moon.
They had been walking for a few minutes when Lynch had noticed that snow had begun to fall, it settled on the ground like powdered icing sugar, the girl in front carried on, almost gliding over the ground

‘Where the hell is she taking us?’
‘I don’t know, we should follow, but charge your weapon just incase’
The both charged their rifles and continued to follow, the snow steadily coming down heavier and heavier, until all they could really see was the girl and the light shining down from the streetlights.
A building loomed, upon it was “Tumbleton and Hartliwick Canal and Railway Company”
‘A railway station? Why has she brought us here?’ Lynch frowned and looked up at the imposing dark granite building.

Crown and Polish

‘Where the hell are they?’ Sally wondered, and looked out of one of the windows.
A low powered shot from the pulse rifle got a fire going, and soon the inside was warm.
‘It’s bloody ridiculous, there’s at least and inch of snow on the ground outside.’
‘Hey, Commissar! I found some beer!’ Private Harkins held up some of the bottles, the familiar blue triangle of The Midlonian Bass Brewery Company adorned them.
‘As much as I’d like to yell at you for that contraband, I won’t, hand one here.’
Sally banged the bottle against the table, the lid came off easily, and she took a good swig.
‘How many of these you found?’ she asked, admiring the pale ale in the light.
‘Hundreds, and kegs too, the whole cellar must have had a deliver before the people were moved.
‘Mhmm, good stuff’ she said, taking another draught.
She sat down on her “Bed” and mused over how she had gotten here.

A few weeks earlier
The office was a small room, a desk and a few file cabinets, a pair of figures stood near the middle of the cramped room.
The hand roughly shoved itself under the shirt. She shivered a little.
‘C’mon, you know you want to.’ Growled the masculine voice.
‘No! Get your hand off of me.’ She struggled but the other hand held her firmly in place.
The hand crept a bit further up her shirt, it was nearly at her bra, then she heard a zipping sound from behind her, then she was roughly turned around.
‘Go on, you know you want to.’
‘General I don’t, I…’ She finally pulled herself from his grip and bolted to the door.
‘If you don’t do it I’ll ruin you.’ He snarled
‘Then ruin me, bastard.’ She grabbed her coat and stormed out of the room, when she finally got back to her bunk, she broke down into sobs.

Back in the pub, a tear ran down her cheek, the beer bottle sat limply in her hands, Private Harkins gently brushed his hand against her cheek.

Station, Village 12

‘You should be careful now, the building is unsafe.’ The girl chimed, she tilted her head, turned to look at them, and then vanished.
‘Perhaps we should go ba- hey!’ Kirsty was already half way up the steps ‘One of these days I’m going to get killed’ Lynch muttered as he ran up the stairs following her.
Kirsty forced the door open and switched on the lamp on her helmet; the shadows cowered before its glare.

They were standing in a tall, dark room; she glanced around, her light dancing across the cobweb covered chairs. Her light eventually came to rest on a ticket booth, she looked around, Lynch had wandered off somewhere. Her boots echoed loudly as she approached the oaken booth, a yellowing ticket still lay there, a return to Pakington. She picked it up and studied it, a clatter somewhere over towards the platforms caused her to look up, she let the ticket flutter to the floor as she stalked across towards the sound.

She opened the glass door out onto the platform; the girl was there, running her hand up and down the wire grating, it rattled quietly. Kirsty walked over and crouched down again. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked quietly.
‘Trying to get to my teddy bear.’ She replied, her voice like that of an angel.
Sally frowned and turned her head over to the tracks, sure enough, a small, grease covered, moth eaten bear sat between the rails.
‘Want me to get it for you?’
The girl smiled. ‘Could you get it for me?’ she asked, still staring longingly out at the tracks.
Sally put her rifle down, and began to clamber up the wire fencing, after a few minutes of rattling and grunting, she was at the top, she dropped down the fence and walked over to the bear. She picked it up and held it for a moment, then she turned and threw it carefully over the fence.
‘Catch’
The girl caught the bear, then she hugged it tightly.
Sally jumped back down onto the platform again, then she spotted something, on the wall. Blood.
‘What happened here?’ she asked, quietly.
The girl ran past her and back towards the entrance.
‘Hey! Wait!’ Sally grabbed her pulse rifle and chased after her.
Thundering across the floor, dust stormed up around her, she coughed a little, and the girl seemed to stop, right near to the entrance.
‘What… happened… here?’ Kirsty demanded between gasps of breath.
‘I’ll show you.’ Replied the girl, she got closer to Kirsty, and then touched her with one finger.

Kirsty glanced down at the finger, then gasped at what was happening.
A wind blew, the dust began to disappear, the cobwebs were being blown away, they flapped helplessly in the breeze before flying off. The lamps burst into life with a crackle, the broken glass dome above, which had allowed snow to fall in repaired itself and the snow melted, the deep blue and white tiles of the floor shone with polish, the sun beamed down on them, then people began to fade into this new reality, one man was sweeping the floor, another was using a floor buffer to ensure the already gleaming floor stayed that way, people sat on the chairs chatting, many reading a newspaper, suggesting it was sometime in the morning.
‘Mommy? Why are we going to the city?’ a little girl asked, she was carrying a bear.
‘We’re off to get you a nice new dress sweetie.’ Replied the tall, blonde woman.
‘Yay! I love you mummy’ cried the girl as she hugged her mother tightly.
Kirsty and the girl stood and watched as the pair waited in the short queue.
‘A return to Pakington please.’ She said, brushing her hair slightly.

The ticket clerk punched the slip of white, then began to slide it over, but then the doors were burst open, and in poured the new republic’s police force, Civil Protection, a silky female voice boomed over the building.
‘This town is being quarantined for the belief that royalist dissenters are among the populous , please remain calm.’
A large, tall, black train thundered into the platform, it slammed into the cement, causing it to crack and splinter, it halted with a terrible wail, and CP officer came over beating the people in the queue in an attempt to get to the train.

‘Move it, get over to the platform dammit! Give me that!’ yelled a CP, he grabbed the girl, who clung to her mother, the CP grabbed the teddy bear and flung it, it soared through the sky and fell somewhere between the black train and the rails, the girl cried, then screamed as she was dragged off and marshalled elsewhere.
‘Shut up!’ yelled the CP and the wailing girl, then he drew his shock baton and beat the girl, and kept beating, and beating, the blood ran a sickly crimson, when he had finished, the girl was dead, her arm was stretched out towards the platform edge, reaching for something.
The world collapsed around them, they were back in the lobby as it was, dank, dark and dusty.

‘Thank you lady.’ Said the girl, she kissed her teddy bear and beamed at her, then she faded from existence, the bear went with her. Kirsty smiled and looked around the building, peace once more.
Lynch came into the foyer.
‘Where you been?’ Kirsty asked, irately.
‘I found something.’ Replied Lynch, his face had whitened.

Crown and Polish Public House.
‘So you were at the perimeter?’ asked Brown as she sat down, looking at Private Kitson.
‘Yeah, major bastard of a battle it was too, s’why I got this scar.’ He replied hoarsely, stroking a scar along his cheek that reached down to his neck.
‘How did you get that’ Brown murmured as she sipped her beer.
‘Fending off an attack…’

“The Battle of the Perimeter”, Nine Months ago

‘Incoming!’
‘They’re shelling us!’
‘Lookout!’

Plumes of dirt flew into the sky, the men dived into what cover they could find.
‘Jesus Christ! How much artillery they got up there?’ yelled sergeant Kitson.
‘Enough to keep us here lad.’ Yelled back his commander, Lieutenant Billy Walsh.
‘Try to dig in! Try to dig in!’ the called wet up, many just dived into the craters the artillery had created for them, instant-foxholes.

Billy and Kitson jumped into a hole, and then suddenly the artillery stopped.
‘What the?’
A long single whistle blast answered his question.
‘Stand fast!’ Yelled Walsh, powering up his rifle.
The infantry charged over the hill, bayonets fixed, guns firing.
One stopped and threw something.
Kitson only remembered being thrown to the side suddenly, when he looked back, Walsh’s head was only half there, still standing, Billy turned to Kitson.
‘Don’t. Let. Them. Win.’ He gargled, before collapsing to the ground, dead.

Kitson screamed, then had him and his men stand on their position and fight.
When they were done there were only five men left, and the survivors were thrown into the penal battalions due to “disobeying orders” and “Slowing our own line of attack”.
Typical Generals, typical sodding generals.

Railway station, village 12

‘What is it? What did you find?’
‘This…’ Lynch pointed weakly at a door.
Kirsty frowned and pushed the door open slowly, it creaked on rusty hinges.
‘Holy shit.’ She whispered.

Lynch was running as fast as he could, his rifle, backpack and helmet he had left behind at the station, they didn’t matter right now. What did matter was getting to the commissar to show her.
Jesus Christ, who’d have thought we’d have stumbled on this place being used for…

A shot sang past him, the solid shot of a Sniper rifle.
Lynch ducked, then jumped as a bullet sang under and above him again.
Not far now. The pub was in sight, the friendly glow in the street shone.

The shot slammed into his shoulder, causing him to flip and slam heavily into the door, it burst open with a loud crack and he fell with an equally haughty thud, Commissar Garrett leapt to her feet.
‘Holy Shit! Lynch! Lynch you ok?’ She shut the door with her leg, then dragged lynch over to the bar.
‘Help me you morons! Get him up on there! Kitson grab the medic-kit. Lynch! What the fuck happened?’

Lynch cried in pain, then managed to utter a word. ‘Plans!’
‘What? What are you on about Lynch?’ Garrett asked, speaking a lot slower.
‘Plans Commissar! We found plans. Urgh and explosives. NNargh! In the railway station! Some sort of plan to blow up this huge ship! I was coming to tell you when I was shot at by a sniper.’ Lynch cried in pain as Kitson tried to dig the bullet out, then his body went limp, he had passed out.
‘Get me the radio…’
Ferguson placed the set onto a table, clicked a few switches, then handed the speaker horn to Garrett.
‘Herring way come in this is village 12, do you copy. Over.’
‘This is herring way. What’s up Sally? We’re not supposed to get a report from you until the morning.’
‘All I can tell you is there’s some crazy stuff going on here, and we need the heavies in now, Tanks and full timers. Over.’
‘Shit, ok I’ll see what I can do Sally, with the snow though I can’t promise stuff until the morning.’
‘Just get the damn stuff here, we got a royalist cell, possibly a large one at that, ok?’
‘Yeah, like I said.’
She handed the horn back to Ferguson.
‘What do we do?’
‘Wait lad, wait.’

Station, village 12
'What the..?' Kirsty leafed at the plans.
An assault on Osbaston? Tanks? Artillery? What the hell?
Silver flashed behind her, she uttered a startled cry as the blad sat against her throat.
'Easy, I'll slit your throat if you try to struggle.' muttered the harsh voice, he fumbled with her dog tags, then laughed.
'A woman in the army? Jees they must be desperate.' the man chuckled.
He let her go, a pistol now in the small of er back.
'Come with me.' it was an order, not a request.
She just nodded, her rifle slid off of her shoulder and clattered onto the floor.

They quietly crossed the large foyeur, their footsteps echoed as more snow drifted in, the roof now whistled slightly, the storm was kicking up.
He pushed open a door and motioned to it with the barrel of the gun.
'In.' he grunted.
Kirsty looked at him, then the door, she stepped through it and started to walk down the steps.
As she reached the bottom she realised that there was a bright light at the bottom.

The man soon joined her and pushed another dark metal door open, inside was a large, dank stone room, heaters sat in the corners on at full blast, several men looked up at her.
'We got company, Rebel troops are in the village.
'We're not rebels.' she said softly, 'you are.'
'Quite the contrary my dear, we are soldiers of H.R.H Hykar II, Kings own Rifle division.' piped up a man with a large handle bar moustache.
'Hykar was disposed of, You are rebels.' Kirsty replied.
The pistol slammed into the side of her head, knocking hr to the floor.
'Peasents will show some bloody respect.' spat the man.
The Handle barred man turnd to the man holding a pistol.
'How man are there?' he asked.
'Not sure, got one with the Sniper Rifle though, he was heading for cover when I got him.' he grinned.
Kirsty sobbed, partially at the pain, partially at the fact that the young lad had been killed.

'There there lass, don't cry, things'll be worse for you by the time the night is through.' Chuckled the Man with the pistol, as he sat down at the table and grabbing a greasy mug, he sipped the liquid in it, then spat it out.
'Bloody awful stuff.' he growled and slammed the mug down on the table.
He sighed, got up and grabbed Kirsty roughly, he dragged her to a back room that was just as dank, but contained a single bed.
'You and me deary, are going to have some fun.' he grinned and was breathing heavily.

The men at the table carried on playing cards and generally chatting, two consulted a plan on the wall, they had simply fazed out the screaming from one of the many metal doors down the opposite wall.