Author Topic: Grymn Fluff - Silvia.  (Read 1674 times)

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Grymn Fluff - Silvia.
« on: October 07, 2014, 07:34:34 AM »

Silvia sat at the bar.  Her hair was bunched into two auburn pony tails; her flawless complexion was accented with a neutral lipstick and the merest hint of blusher; her perfect, hour-glass figure was tightly enclosed in a green, silk mini-dress with a plunging neckline and enough support to produce a cleavage that every male in the bar was currently wishing they could dive into.  All eyes were on her as she sipped her soft-drink while spinning her beer-mat; carefully lining up each edge with the edge of the bar before turning to the next one.  It was almost 20-00hrs when Silvia looked towards the opening door at the person entering.  The new patron was dressed in standard Grymn fatigues, minus the armour plates and was rather dusty with a grimy face and hair matted with oil.  Silvia waved and the new arrival came over, kissed her on the lips and sat down next to her.  It was Hella and as she sat down, most of the males watching sat open mouthed as the sound of broken hearts echoed around the bar.

Hella and Silvia had been friends ever since they enlisted.  Neither of them was happy with all the attention they were getting from their male counterparts so they came up with a way of avoiding it.  They pretended to be lovers and then dealt with the only males fool-hardy enough to push their luck by using the chain of command and the rather brutal equal opportunity laws that existed in the Grymn armed forces.  After basic training, the two girls followed different paths; Hella joined the light infantry and Silvia went for special operations and trained to be a sniper; a good one at that.
As Hella and Silvia sat chatting at the bar; occasionally touching an arm or brushing a cheek; the door opened again and in walked Edgar, in full battledress.  He walked over and stood next to the girls and quietly cleared his throat.

“Silvia, there’s a job on” he said.

“When?” replied Silvia.

“Now, I’m afraid.  You’d best say your farewells and come with me”.

Silvia did as she was asked and left Hella at the bar.

“What is so important that you feel the need to drag me away from a night out?” she asked.

“How does (he glanced over a shoulder to make sure no one else could hear) a Sleiti sound?” he said, with a glint in his eye.

“Really?!” she said, almost exploding with excitement “here?”

“Yes and yes” was the reply.

They walked hurriedly towards the barracks and began the preparations for the job.

Silvia slid her rifle into its bag; it smelt strongly of gun oil after its recent clean.  She packed her armour piercing rounds in with the standard Grymn-stopper rounds in her webbing pouches and made sure she had enough clothing, provisions and miscellaneous equipment in her pack for the job ahead.  She carefully checked her communications equipment before clipping it to the yolk of her webbing and tucking the headset into her pouch for the journey.  While she packed, Edgar briefed her on the location of her target, how they were going to get there and when the target was expected to be viable.  He showed Silvia a few of the most recent pictures of the Sleiti dignitary that was to be disposed of and she smiled; she had never been given the honour of assassinating a Father before and she relished the opportunity.

Edgar and Silvia jumped from the grav-vehicle and ran into the cover of the trees before it rose into the air and darted off, keeping below the tree line for cover.  By now both of the Grymn were fully camouflaged with a full body leaf-suit and cam-cream covering any flesh that was bared to the elements.  They began to trot towards the target zone with weapons ready, just in case they were expected.  They moved as stealthily as they could; using every bit of cover and making sure that they left as little trace of their passing as they could.  As they neared the snipers nest (the nick name for where the sniper lies in wait), they slowed down, switched to hand signals for communications and kept as low as they could to ensure that they weren’t spotted.  Edgar had his scanner set to full range and he was starting to pick up the blips of the enemy forces in the camp that they were approaching (they were surprised that there weren’t more, especially bearing in mind the dignitary that was present...they must not have been expecting any trouble).  Soon the final hand-signal came and Silvia ducked into the cover of some dense scrub and started setting up her firing position while Edgar kept watch, scanning the area for any threats.  Once she was happy, Silvia signalled to Edgar and he broke communication silence to inform army command that ‘the bird was in the coop’.

Silvia settled down and with the help of Edgar and his scanner, pin-pointed where the Sleiti was expected to appear.  It wasn’t too difficult as his field shelter had been elaborately decorated with gold symbols and silk hangings (the Bohkin were extremely foolish to bring such attention to their honoured guest...they must have thought that they were immune from attack or something!).  As Silvia spied the tent through the magnifying scope of her sniper rifle she was almost startled as the rigid fabric door slid open and her target appeared, carrying a bowl of what appeared to be steaming water and a towel.  He placed the bowl on a small foldable table and stretched; his bare, grey torso shining with sweat in the evening light.  Through the scope, Silvia could see his jet black eyes and his pointed ears very clearly and there was no disputing that this was a Sleiti Father.  She felt a kick from Edgar and she came to her senses.  She carefully loaded a clip of armour piercing rounds into her rifle and took aim.  She slowed her breathing and prepared to take her last breath before firing.  She relaxed, aimed directly at the side of his head and took her last breath.  Carefully, she started to squeeze the trigger.  She could see the vein in his temple throb through the powerful scope of her rifle.  She squeezed further and just before the rifle fired, the Sleiti turned to face her directly and smiled.  He knew she was there; he knew what was coming and as the armour piercing round left the barrel, he didn’t flinch or make a sound.  He was still staring at her when the impact hit him cleanly in the top of his forehead, taking out the rear of his brainpan in an explosion of gory mist and debris.  He slumped forward onto the table, sending the bowl flying as the legs gave way and he tumbled onto the ground as the blood pumped arterially from his body.  Silvia quickly and mechanically, switched to the laser designator setting of her rifle and aimed it at what appeared to be an ammunition dump and gave the signal to Edgar.  He acknowledged the signal and said into the communicator ‘eerie one, fire-flash’.  Suddenly there was a low whine coming from behind them.  From her position in the nest, Silvia could see little commotion from the Bohkin camp; they seemed to be wandering around aimlessly as if stunned by the loss of their Sleiti master.  As the whine became louder a few of the Bohkin came to their senses and began issuing orders but they were too late as a Grymn grav-tank squadron loomed up from behind the sniper’s position and trained their weapons on the designated target.  As one they opened fire with rail-guns and heavy pulse weapons; annihilating the ammunition store in a blaze of brilliance.

Silvia threw herself upright and screamed.  Her nightshirt was soaked with sweat and was clinging to her shapely form in see through patches.  She stared at her hands until she realised that she was awake and looked at the clock.  It was 02:00 hours; the same time as she had awoken every night that month and in much the same manner.  She climbed out of bed and walked to her sink, switching on the small lamp above it.  She stared at her gaunt and weary looking face in the mirror and ran some cold water into the sink.  When she had finished she looked down from the mirror and at the water; in its surface she could just make out the jet black eyes and the smiling face of the Sleiti father.  It seemed to laugh at her as her fingers broke the surface of the water and as she splashed her face the image splintered into a myriad of shapes and disappeared.

Silvia knew that it would return.
The light at the end of the tunnel is just someone with a torch, locking the gate.

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