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Mission Complete

Chapter c and Chapter d

Chapter c
The President sank into his high leather backed chair. He pushed a button on a telecom and spoke calmly. “If any colonies withdraw from the alliance, I want you to inform me immediately. Prepare to declare war on the space zones. Necee, Send me Commander Rue D´Morte.” A soft muffled acceptance was heard before the President lifted his finger from the red switch. “If it’s a war they want, then it’s a war they’re going to get.”

The door opened quietly and a dark figure stepped into the room. “Commander D´Morte, please, sit down. I wish to speak with you for a moment.” In less time than a blink, Rue was across the room, seated opposite the Federation President. “You know, I never did get quite used to you doing that.” The President laughed nervously.
Rue smiled languidly. “I’m sorry, but please, you summoned me for a reason.” His French accent was thick, but easily understood.

“Yes, of course. I want you to rally the best troops you can find and prepare for war. If possible, I want to know what this Nova Base is doing at all times.” The President pointed out Nova on a holographic map with great disgust.

Commander D´Morte nodded, and then saluted. “Easily done, sir, and I have just the girl for the job. In a few years, she’ll be totally ready.”

“Then get to it, Commander. The FECA is in your hands.” Both men stood and exited the hall.

Ten years later, Heather had been born in a remote town outside of the crumbled remains of London. Rue stole the baby from her parents and taught her to be without emotion. Emotions would only get in the way of mental capabilities on the battle field. Heather’s rebellious nature took over at the age of 15 when she climbed in to the Piloted Interspatial Flight Suit she had built and disappeared. Perhaps D’Morte believed that she was leaving to sabotage the colonies as she had been taught, but for Heather, space meant only one thing. FREEDOM.

Chapter d
Two days later, after quite a bit of liquor, Rue summoned for the petite blonde once more. This time the Lilith pilot’s hands were cuffed behind her back when she was shoved into the room. Heather stood unyielding before the Hellion pilot. She could smell the rum and crown on his breath as he approached her, and her mind raced with reasons for her summoning.

“Sit down, mon petite. You seem as though you’ve lost weight. I do hope my men have been treating you properly. If not, I suppose I’ll just have you moved to some more . . . private quarters, perhaps your old ones.” Rue D´Morte glided around Heather, gesturing smoothly with icy fingers. “Now, now, Cherie, please . . . sit . . . I am trying to be hospitable. I have missed you so.” The girl remained expressionless and immobile. Rue pushed her down on to a plush black sofa. Nobly, he took a seat beside her, as she stared blankly across the room. “Come on, Cherie, where is the fiery pilot that I’ve seen in battle? I know you were trained to be without emotion, but that is no longer the case. You showed such fire. Surely they have not broken your spirit downstairs. Let me see your hands. How can you relax with them tied so tightly, huh?” As soon as Commander D’Morte undid Lieutenant Kou’s hands, she was on her feet. She raced across the room to the open window. As she began to climb out with the skill of a cat, her hand slipped and she glanced down. Below her loomed five cement stories. She knew that if she didn’t jump now, she would be caught and punished for her escape attempt, so without another thought, she glanced back in the room and launched herself out of the window. She would die before revealing her secrets about the colonies to Rue D’Morte.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m not letting you leave again that easy.” Rue stated as he followed her out of the window. Instead of plummeting like the girl, he sank straight down, rapidly, but in total balance. When the Hellion pilot got just below Heather, he stopped and caught her. A mere twenty feet lay between her and the ground. Heather opened her eyes at the sudden stop and looked to the ground. She hovered in Rue’s arms. The Lilith pilot let out a blood-curdling scream.

“You decide, Cherie.” Heather heard the voice only in her head. “I can let go, and from here, you won’t die, but the pain will make you wish you had, or, I keep you a bit longer, and you’ll possibly become one of my mistresses, like you were intended to be.” One look in Rue’s glowing red eyes and she couldn’t answer. Instead, she passed out, relaxing limply in his arms. As he brought her back up to his chambers, Rue’s eyes returned to hazel. “Good enough,” he whispered, brushing back a strand of her hair.

The next morning, Heather awoke with a crippling headache. Slowly opening her eyes, she realized she wasn’t in the prison with her new friend, but was rather back in Commander Rue D´Morte’s private quarters. She pulled the blankets to her chin, only to discover her nudity. A cold, sharp hand ran down her back and she spun around quickly, only to be facing the grinning Commander. Frantically, Heather scanned the room for an escape route. Seeing none, she focused on why she was in the Commander’s bed, her steeled eyes pleading with the lustful hazel eyes of he captor.

“Relax, mon petit, you were not taken advantage of. I want you awake when I take you. That’s precisely why you’re her now, Cherie. I should have indebted you to me years ago, but I went against my nature and let you travel space.” He smiled, guessing her thoughts. Gently, he caressed her shoulder and her neck. Heather repressed a shudder of disgust with everything she learned about hiding emotions. When he moved forward, she shrank back, but he caught her in a crushing grasp and pulled her against him. The sudden heat scared her, and her eyes glazed. Heather cried out as he broke her and her spirit when he forced himself and her tongue into her. She whimpered against his mouth and struggled against him. D´Morte held her down until he finished. Heather rolled over on her side and cried herself to sleep in his pillow, Rue’s arms wrapped securely around her wrecked body.

When next she woke, Heather kept her eyes closed and listened quietly for any signs of her the Hellion pilot. She could pretend to sleep for days if it meant he would leave her alone. She felt a hand on her forehead and sighed realizing it was too warm to be Commander D´Morte’s.

“Heather, come on, hun . . . wake up.” The other rebel whispered as he ran a warm hand over her face.

“Levi?” The Lilith pilot sat up and threw her arms around him. “Oh, God, Levi. Hold me please.” Heather’s body wracked with sobs as she climbed into the other pilot’s lap. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. I’m a traitor, Levi, a traitor.” Levi stroked the side of her face, trying to calm her, but instead, Heather pulled away. “You’re not listening! I was born in England, not on the colonies! D’Morte trained me to fight for him! Don’t you get it? I was raised to destroy the colonies!” Levi calmly took in her rant, his hands placed passively on the wheels to his chair.

“Heather, I have just met you, but I know that you would never destroy the colonies. You may have been raised by a freak of nature whose sole purpose is to put an end to our home, but you are a part of the Nova colony now. He can not make you go against what your heart has decided you must do. You have fought for the colonies because that’s what you believe in.”

“I fought because somewhere inside I knew I was trained to fight. I just forgot what side it was for.” Levi shrugged. He had been born to a family fighting for freedom, and he would die the same way. The fact that fighting had confined him to his hated chair made his purpose that much clearer.

“Until now, Heather, you have fought for what you believe in. You have been accepted as a pilot of the colonies. Will you go against that because that asshole says you should? He has tortured you. Will you go back to him now?”

“No.” Heather sniffled. She couldn’t be a FECA pilot. They wanted slaves: not people, just machines. As she stopped crying, there was a loud explosion from somewhere outside. In an instant, both pilots were ready for whatever was happening outside, years of training preparing them for action. Another blast sounded and the walls shook violently before one collapsed and a PIFS appeared.

“Spencer!” Levi rolled to the opening, dragging Heather as best he could behind him. That P.I.F.S. he would recognize anywhere. “Spencer! Spencer! SPENCER!” Levi bounced up and down excitedly in his seat until the hatch opened, revealing the blonde pilot’s dark haired friend.

“Levi, come on, you blonde haired ditz! Quit jumping around and let’s get out of here before D´Morte comes!” Spencer yelled as maneuvered his flight suit to pick up the awaiting pilots so Levi could get to his machine easier.

“You’re too late, Chasez, and you’d never take MY girl.” Rue stated as he opened the cell and reached for Heather, fully expecting her to stay, a pistol wedged between the hard fingers of his right hand. She let out an animalistic yell and ran for the machine, easily catching Spencer who was racing to free their mobile suits. They reached the metal people and blasted out, just as the Hellion pilot unlocked his P.I.F.S. and turned it on, leaving him in the space wake.



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