He's been left to die on an inhospitable world, surrounded by criminals and enemy forces. Enough is enough, and Walters doesn't care who knows it.
viernes, 1 de julio de 2011
El Juego - SD IV Chapter Five Pt 1
First Class State Room Prelate’s Light Unknown Location Fold Space
Cornelius watched her as she swirled the alcohol round in the glass, sniffing at it, sticking her tongue in, sipping then spitting it back, before she suddenly gulped the liquid down. Her neck pulsed curiously, as the liquid disappeared, swelling and turning a strange shade of red, in a most disconcerting fashion. As she finished and moved to place her glass back on the table, she glanced briefly at him over the rim. A strange clear membrane flicked across her eyes, and for just a moment Cornelius would have sworn that they blazed, with an intense green light.
The brandy burned in his throat, causing coughs to wrack his body and tears to stream from his eyes. When he was composed again, he wiped his eyes and looked up. The old woman sat relaxed, a full glass in her hand.
“How ...?” began Cornelius, but she ignored him, hawking once deep in her throat and casting around for somewhere to spit. Not finding anywhere convenient, she grimaced, swallowed and then gulped down some more alcohol.
She laughed at the disgusted look on his face and leaned forward, staring intently at the creature wrapped around Cornelius’ neck, before speaking.
“So,” she crooned, “it has at last begun.”
“That’s nice to know,” quipped Butt, sipping at his drink and waiting for her reaction.
“Fool!” she hissed, “Even now, you have no idea what you have done, have you?” She did not wait for his answer, but continued on, “The Clans have been waiting generations for her birth, they’ve robbed and murdered solely to position themselves as the prophesised ones. A princess was groomed in all their foul skills and traditions, and what happens?”
Now she gave reign to her laughter, gasping for breath, “Cor...nelius Butt ...that’s ...what.”
He really did not see the reason for her seemingly incontrollable humour, after all his reputation preceded him; he had yet to totally fail a mission.
“No ... don’t ...speak,” she said, then gaining some semblance of control, “it’s just that sometimes the irony of it all is too much to bear. What do you know of the Taartuns?”
“The who?” asked Butt, answering her question in full.
“Your new comrades,” she said, indicating the door, “and the creature’s adoring followers.”
Grunting in response, Butt took another swig and the woman continued, “There is, as I have mentioned, a prophecy concerning the creature. A doom-laden tragedy waiting to happen for some and immortality for one other. Would you like to hear about it?”
“Not particularly,” replied Butt, rising from his seat and walking towards the bathroom in an attempt to annoy the hag. She had yet to introduce herself and Cornelius was getting a little bit tired of her. “I’ve got my little cruise to finish and then we’ll see what happens,” he said as he finished his pressing chore.