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We're half way though . Nice!!!

While Zoombie may not have killed off the main character half way through the story before, it still is well within his writing character to do so (according to my last complete psychoanalysis). Besides, he has skills enough to pull it off and then have some big wth! come back moment later...

Ah, you give me too little credit.

Also, do you have a full psychoanalysis written up? I'm intrigued by this, and would like to know more.

Pm'ed Guessmyname

Pm'ed back

And here it is!

###


Jonathan put his R-flint to his shoulder and looked down the scope. He breathed out and pulled the trigger.

A distant bottle shattered, sending glass into the snowy floor of the alleyway.

├óÔé¼┼ôHmm.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan lowered the R-flint and tapped the scope.

├óÔé¼┼ôThinking about applying for a deadeyes position?├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank asked, pulling out a fresh bottle.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhat gives you that idea?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan asked, opening the expended chamber and sniffing at it.

├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank walked down the alleyway and put the bottle down on the small stool Jonathan had set up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou made that contraption-├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôScope.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank knelt down next to Jonathan and looked at the bottle. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd you've been practicing for a week.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan put the R-flint back to his shoulder and sighted on the barrel. He breathed out, and pulled the trigger. The bottle exploded. He lowered the flint. ├óÔé¼┼ôI think I could manage. And, I won't have to deal with artillery, marching or getting close enough to spit at the damn Silverbacks.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôUh,├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank scratched his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell, I suppose-├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôSo, next time a specialty testing round comes by, I'm going for deadeyes.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôKnight Lieutenant for me.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank put his fist to his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôBut, hey, I'm no Alex. He was like a promotion magnet.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAnd knives. He also attracted knives.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shook his head. Hank sighed.

The two men looked at the shattered bottle for a while. Hank shook his head.

├óÔé¼┼ôDamn shame. Lets eat.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The two Knights stood and walked back into the heart of occupied Proudboar. As Hank walked, he limped, his foot still bandaged. Several buildings still smoldered, and the Silverbacks still huddled in a central refugee center.

├óÔé¼┼ôHuh,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan paused. ├óÔé¼┼ôIsn't the name Central Refugee Center a bit redundant?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôEh?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôNever mind.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan pointed out the mess hall, which used to be the local public library with the books thrown out and tables set up. A mobile ------- crew had set up shop in the back room, using spare wood and some of the books to heat the soup up to lukewarm. At least the mess hall had walls and ceiling, which kept some of the cold out.

Jonathan brought out his mess kit, filled it at the -------, and sat down at a free seat. Hank sat down next to him and spent a few moments fiddling with his foot bandages before starting to chow down.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhen are we advancing again?├óÔé¼┬Ø was a common question. An equally common question was, ├óÔé¼┼ôHear about that new Source?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan perked up. ├óÔé¼┼ôSource?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYeah,├óÔé¼┬Ø a Knight with his spoon halfway between his mess kit to his mouth nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôTall, redheaded, red blindfold, red robes, a slight aura of otherworldliness.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôSounds like a Source. She a medical or what?├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank stirred his soup around with his spoon. It had too little meat, too much water.

├óÔé¼┼ôDidn't look like it,├óÔé¼┬Ø The knowledgeable Knight said. ├óÔé¼┼ôHad more of a seeking-├óÔé¼┬Ø

The door to the mess hall opened and the Source in question stepped in. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs Knight Corporal Jonathan here?├óÔé¼┬Ø She demanded.

Jonathan choked on his soup. He spat a half chewed chunk of meat into his bowl, and stood. ├óÔé¼┼ôRight here, ma'am.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôGood. Is Knight Sergent Hank of Holden here?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source looked around, her blindfolded eyes scanning the mess hall. Hank actually did choke. The Knight next to him slammed his hand on his back and Hank coughed up some vegetables. Hank stood and jogged over to the Source.

├óÔé¼┼ôYou two know Alex of Tervathen, correct?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source looked at the two of them.

├óÔé¼┼ôUh, knew, miss. He's dead. Been dead for-├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank started.

├óÔé¼┼ôAlex is alive. Or, will be. I just need some-├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source glared at him, which was impressive, seeing as how her eyes were covered.

├óÔé¼┼ôHe's alive!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan gasped.

├óÔé¼┼ôDon't interrupt me.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source snapped, turning her gaze on Jonathan. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow, I simply need an article of clothing that Alex once used.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôIt's complicated!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWell, I took his boots.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank glanced down at his shoes.

The Source looked at him. Hank raised his hand, defensive.

├óÔé¼┼ôHey, most Silverback's feet are too small for a guy like me.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank put his hands on his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôAlso, what better way to remember a dear friend than-├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôGive the shoelace to me.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Source held out her hand.

├óÔé¼┼ôAll right.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank dropped to one foot and yanked at his shoe. The Source snapped her fingers.

├óÔé¼┼ôCome on, chop chop.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank stood and put the shoelace into her hand as violently as possible. She smiled at him.

├óÔé¼┼ôThanks. Now, lets see if I'm right or if I'm just a nut.├óÔé¼┬Ø

She turned to leave, her robe sweeping on the ground.

├óÔé¼┼ôWait, ma'am!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan held up his hand. The Source stopped and looked over her shoulder. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...what exactly do you need Alex's shoe lace for?├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Source grinned a slow, predatory grin. ├óÔé¼┼ôSimple. When Alex was first touched by the medical Source when he was first wounded, she spoke a prophecy: He must not lead a charge at Redstroke. And the only way he can't lead a charge at Redstroke would be if he survived to possibly lead the charge.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Hank cocked his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're going to have to run that by me again.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan rolled his eyes even as the Source shook her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's protected by Prophecy like...Kevin the Conqueror or the Emperor.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The two Knights nodded.

├óÔé¼┼ôSo, this bit of shoelace has some of Alex's essence, and the two bits of essence can resonate between each other and BAM!├óÔé¼┬Ø She made a punching motion with her fist, the shoelace flapping between her fingers. ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's back on his feet... after a few weeks of agonizing pain and horrific rehabilitation.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôForget I asked.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank shook his head. Jonathan nodded.

├óÔé¼┼ôGood luck,├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan said.

The Source grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks.├óÔé¼┬Ø

As she left, the two Knights walked back into the mess hall. As they walked, Hank's left boot fell off.

###

├óÔé¼┼ôReady...fire!├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan sighted and pulled the trigger. The makeshift target, a small circle of paper with a very poorly drawn Silverback face drawn on it, suddenly had a neat hole through the forehead. Paper and wood burst out behind the target. Jonathan sighted the next target and pulled the trigger. He did so again and again, then loaded faster than he ever had, slapping cartridges into all four chambers, closed the breach and sighted again.

├óÔé¼┼ôAnd time!├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Capitan that preceded over the Deadeye tests checked his pocket watch. ├óÔé¼┼ôSeven targets in twenty five seconds, with fifteen seconds for reloading...excellent work, Knight. ├óÔé¼┼ô

Jonathan grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo...am I a Deadeye?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYou're Deadeye material...might not survive, but yeah, take this-├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight Capitan took out a small pin that had a equally small cross hair on it. Jonathan took it and pinned it to his lapel, grinning wider. ├óÔé¼┼ô-And your commander will know where to put you.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan nodded. As he stood, he patted his R-flint. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou know,├óÔé¼┬Ø He murmured. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe could reload faster if the cartridges came in a chain that could be threaded into the chamber all at the same time, rather than one by one.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Knight Capitan blinked. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat's some good thinking there. I'll be sure to pass it on.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan tipped his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø

He walked down the street of Proudboar, his scoped R-flint tapping against his shoulder. Imperial soldiers marched up and down the streets. Still, very few Silverbacks. Jonathan stepped in a particularly large mud puddle. He swore and tried to work his boot free.

Him bending over saved his life.

A crack and something whizzing over his head made Jonathan throw himself forward. His ankle wrenched slightly in the mud. He rolled onto his back, bringing his scoped R-flint to bear on his attack.

It turned out to be a second too late. The patrolling Imperials weren't slow on the uptake, and their R-flints started cracking. The first round caught the fleeing Silverback in the shoulder, sending him spinning on one foot. The next three ripped through his chest before he hit the ground, splashing blood and mud over the ground.

Jonathan worked his foot free. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks, guys.├óÔé¼┬Ø

A Knight helped Jonathan to his feet, shaking his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôStupid bastard. You okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYeah.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan brushed mud off his back, which ended up doing nothing but his hands muddy spread the mud over more of his back. ├óÔé¼┼ôComplete miss.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Knights walked over to the dead Silverback. He looked as if his chest had been put through a meat grinder. Jonathan prodded him with his foot, then stooped over and picked up the Silverback's flint pistol. It was old, and slightly familiar.

├óÔé¼┼ôHey...I've seen this before.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan turned the pistol over in his hands.

###

Key stepped off the wagon and rubbed her backside with one hand. She nodded at the Constable who had driven her from Shrillbore to Proudboar. He tipped an imaginary hat to him.

├óÔé¼┼ôThank you much, ma'am.├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, his voice sounding slightly rustic and creaky. The Constables tended to be older men, those unfit for the harshness of front line combat. Sometimes, they called their flints firebows, which always made Key giggle.

├óÔé¼┼ôHave a safe time in Shrillbore.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Constable grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd if you think you're sore-├óÔé¼┬Ø Key stopped rubbing her behind somewhat self consciously ├óÔé¼┼ô-just try doing this for a living.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYou get used to it, don't you?├óÔé¼┬Ø Key asked.

├óÔé¼┼ôOf course.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Constable clicked his teeth and the horse started to pull his carriage again. Key turned to the city and started walking. She carefully skirted the worst of the mud, which was a pleasant change from the snow. Key felt a new blizzard kicking up in the distance, a ominous force in the near future. She sighed and decided to enjoy the mud while it lasted.

And that's when the Silverback stepped in front of her with a loaded flint pistol.

├óÔé¼┼ôOh.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key nodded, starting to fit the pieces together. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou some kind of underground resistance leader, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Silverback woman with the crooked nose nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes, and officially this is for my country.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAnd unofficially?├óÔé¼┬Ø Key asked, noticing a patrol coming around the corner. They noticed something was wrong and slung their flints off their shoulders.

├óÔé¼┼ôUnofficially...This is for my sister.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Silverback pulled the trigger.

Heh, I knew the resistance was coming when you said the pistol looked familiar...

The Knight Capitan blinked. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat's some good thinking there. I'll be sure to pass it on.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Hey, sometimes ranks are misspelled.

Capitan and Captain or however it's spelled has always been an annoying wiggy for me.

Anyway, I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story, yada ya, bla bla, I'm going to write the next bit now.

We're on part 13 of GP Knight.

###


Flame and smoke spurted from the barrel of the flint pistol. It sped towards Key.

Key flicked her wrist. The bullet hit a small shimmering Ghost Light and zipped right back where it came from. The flint exploded and the Silverback clutched her hand to her chest, blood streaming from mangled fingers.

She growled, head butted Key in the face, and ran. Imperial flints cracked and Key threw herself to the ground, pushing her face into the mud. Her blindfold slipped off as Imperials ran past. One of them knelt next to her as their R-flints started cracking.

Key viciously shoved the Knight away, her muddy hand pressed over her eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôGet away!├óÔé¼┬Ø She snarled. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't look!├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Knight fell on his rump, splashing more mud. Key felt around frantically for her blindfold.

├óÔé¼┼ôHere!├óÔé¼┬Ø He fished it out of the mud. Key grabbed it and pressed it over her eyes. Mud squelched and she sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt's going to be a bitch to clean my eyes out.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAre you okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Knight asked. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you hurt?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôNo, I have a bullet in my heart and died a few seconds ago.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key snarled. ├óÔé¼┼ôGo and catch that Silverback!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôShe's gone.├óÔé¼┬Ø A Knight ran up to Key and the helpful Knight. ├óÔé¼┼ôSir, she just up and vanished.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôDamn!├óÔé¼┬Ø The helpful Knight stood, helping Key to her feet. ├óÔé¼┼ôPut out a warning that we are looking for a Silverback with a wounded hand.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôShe's also got a broken nose, green eyes and dark hair.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key gently rubbed at her eyesockets with her fingers. The feel of mud in them...she shuddered convulsively. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd please, let me get to my tent. Right now!├óÔé¼┬Ø

The helpful Knight stepped aside and Key started to march forward, rubbing at her blindfold. She heard the helpful Knight walking behind him.

She stopped and glared at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôDon't you have a resistance fighter to find and kill?├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Knight nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôYes ma'am.├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned on his heel and ran off, wrangling his men into a search order.

├óÔé¼┼ôLook for blood!├óÔé¼┬Ø Key shouted after him. The Imperials ran around the corner and Key sighed, turning around, walking towards her tent.

After two months of occupation, the Imperial government hadn't come around to giving her an actual home. Instead, she stayed in the tent she had used when the Imperial Army had first bowled over the Silverback defenses of Shrillbore. Key closed her 'door', which was little better than a flap of cloth, and pulled her blindfold off. She leaned her head forward and started cleaning the mud from her eyesockets.

The tent flap opened. Part of Key wanted to just look at the man with her blindfold off and see how he liked being a rock for the rest of his short, painful life. But instead, she hastily put her blindfold back on. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it, Governor?├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Constable Governor of Shrillbore had started waxing his mustache the day before Key had left and looked to keep it up. The smell was distinct and sharp, but it did improve the Governor's drooping mustache, which now had a more handsome flair to it. He started. ├óÔé¼┼ôDid I interrupt anything?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôGot some mud in my eyesockets.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key smiled sweetly as the Governor blanched slightly.

├óÔé¼┼ôUh, other than that you are okay, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Key nodded.

├óÔé¼┼ôGood. The League of Source sent me a message today. They've heard you've been trying a Resonance Cascade...whatever that is.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôDamn damn and double blast.├óÔé¼┬Ø Key growled. ├óÔé¼┼ôSend the messenger back with the message: He's protected by prophecy, damn it, and I'm not going to let him sit in Limbo for the rest of his possible life.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôRight. How?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Governor stroked his mustache.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhat do you mean how?├óÔé¼┬Ø Key sighed, wishing she had eyes to close.

├óÔé¼┼ôWell, the message came in a sort of...dream, vuge state thing.├óÔé¼┬Ø The Governor looked a bit perplexed. ├óÔé¼┼ôVery strange.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôAh, right, I forgot the League's love of mumbo jumbo, don't worry, I'll take care of it.├óÔé¼┬Ø She sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow, leave...I have things to do.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Governor nodded and bowed his way out of the tent. Key sat down and sighed. ├óÔé¼┼ôFirst the resistance, then the League, and I still have MUD IN MY EYES!├óÔé¼┬Ø She jerked her blindfold off and started to gingerly clean her eyesockets out.

###

Jonathan sat in a tree and waited. When he'd earned his Deadeye's pin, they never told him that that was what most of his job was. Jonathan shrugged a nearly invisible shrug. Snow had started to settle over his thick coat. He had a small cover over his R-flint's bullet chambers, to keep the powder dry. It made it harder to reload, but if Jonathan missed the first shot, he wouldn't have the time to reload.

It was, Jonathan reflected, an exquisitely beautiful country at times. When war wasn't all around you, and when the air was clear enough, as it was right now. Snow drifted down, but not in the same huge swirls that happened on the real bad blizzards.

After another hour of waiting, Jonathan saw what he was waiting here. A Silverback army. They were getting rare these days, increasingly replaced by small knots of irregulars, artillery groups that could fire a single barrage and flee before the Imperials could retaliate. Jonathan picked out several cannons, and...something new.

Now he was worried. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat in the hells...├óÔé¼┬Ø He breathed. The Silverbacks had two wagons with slanted platforms on them. On each platform were about fifteen tubes with red, conical tips. They were surrounded by a phalanx of Silverback guards who all looked very serious.

Jonathan sighed mentally, sighting down his scope and starting to track across the Silverback armies. Their generals still wore fancy hats. That made it easier to find them and easier to draw a bead on their foreheads.

Jonathan pulled the trigger. The Silverback General paused midstep, blood, brains and bone exploded from the back of his head. Jonathan grinned for a moment, then slung his scoped R-flint over his back and started clambering down the tree. He dropped the last few feet and hit the ground running. Flint shot started to tear through leaves and sending poofs of snow up into the air. One tugged on Jonathan's cloak like a finger plucking on his sleeve.

Then he was clear. He made a few obvious tracks in one direction, then turned around and stepped in each of those tracks and started to go in a different direction, slowly. With each step, he painstakingly dragged a cloth behind him he had brought for this very purpose.

By the time the Silverbacks arrived at his location, they found one false trail and no Jonathan.

###

├óÔé¼┼ôAnd you have no idea what they were for?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôNone at all, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan wiped his brow with his hand. Despite the cold, running still brought a sweat out. He started to shiver and hastily put his hat back on, sweat or no sweat.

├óÔé¼┼ôHm.├óÔé¼┬Ø Knight Lieutenant Farley stroked his wispy beard. ├óÔé¼┼ôIf it isn't a weapon, I'm a Source. Good job, Deadeyes.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan grinned, cricking his neck. ├óÔé¼┼ôThanks, sir.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Farley left, walking to the main bulk of the Imperial Army. Jonathan could still see the still smoldering wreck of Proudbore in the distance. As Farley stooped into a tent, Hank came around the corner with his R-flint slung over his shoulder. Hank stopped near Jonathan.

├óÔé¼┼ôSo, did you peg the bastard?├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank asked, punching Jonathan lightly in the shoulder.

Jonathan shrugged.

├óÔé¼┼ôThat's Jonathan for yes.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôWell, I've been studying up on the Officer's test.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWhen?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan blinked. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhen the hells did you have time for study?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWell,├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank grinned. ├óÔé¼┼ôI read when I eat, and read a bit more before I go to bed. It's not that hard.├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWhat, the test?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôNo, reading.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank rubbed at his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe test, though, is impossible. Enfilade fire, points of cover, how to effectively manage supplies, logistics-├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôI thought logistics and managing supplies are the same things.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan grinned at Hank's expression.

├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, well...it's all complicated.├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow I see why nobles are officers more often. Nobles get schooling more often.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan appraised Hank. ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...don't take this the wrong way, Hank, but you don't strike me the schooled type.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Hank grinned boyishly. ├óÔé¼┼ôPart of noble privilege is to be able to disregard noble privilege. I ducked out of school and went partying. Now I regret the decision.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan glowered at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôI had to spend every last penny I got to go to night school, and you-├óÔé¼┬Ø

There was a loud screeching noise. Jonathan and Hank looked up. Jonathan gaped. A star was falling from the sky. It landed in the forest about a mile to the left of the camp. A huge explosion rocked the ground. Tree's shattered and collapsed. Another screeching noise sounded, and another and another. More burning stars arced in the air, trailing smoke and flames.

├óÔé¼┼ôThey're artillery!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan shouted. ├óÔé¼┼ôFind cover!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWell no SHIT!├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank shouted back as they both dashed for one of the trenches that sat around the camp. Hank dived in head first while Jonathan landed next to him. They both kissed mud. A shooting star, or artillery, or the War God's own fist, or whatever hell was coming down on the Imperials, landed nearer the camp. A tree exploded, showering the entire camp with wood fragments.

The screeching got louder and more falling stars smashed around the camp. Explosions rocked the ground. Jonathan realized he was screaming. The screeching faded as the last falling star impacted five miles off.

Hank stuck his head out of the dugout. ├óÔé¼┼ôSon of a bitch...├óÔé¼┬Ø He breathed. ├óÔé¼┼ôGod damn Silverbacks...they can't hit the broad side of a barn!├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan stuck his head out a moment later. Hank was right. The forest to the left and right of the camp had a few tree's that had been knocked over, a few burning. A few tents had holes punched in it by flying shrapnel. A single huge crater sat very close to the camp and more than one tent had been knocked over.

But no screams, no cries for medicals, no agonized moans. Jonathan gulped. He did hear some whimpers. A Imperial man staggered out of a trench, his hands shaking.

├óÔé¼┼ôG-g-gods damn it,├óÔé¼┬Ø He stuttered, looking at Jonathan. ├óÔé¼┼ôW-w-w-what th-e he-hells was that?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan shrugged. ├óÔé¼┼ôI wish I knew.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The shaking Knight shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôD-don't w-want to f-f-find out.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jonathan crawled out of the trench, Hank following him. He hissed as he noticed his scope had cracked when he threw himself into the trench.

├óÔé¼┼ôSon of a bitch.├óÔé¼┬Ø He muttered, running his finger over the cracked glass. He put his R-flint to his shoulder and peered through the scope. He could still see, but the crosshairs were ruined and...there was a Silverback creeping towards the camp.

├óÔé¼┼ôSon of a bitch.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan swung his R-flint around. More Silverbacks. ├óÔé¼┼ôAMBUSH!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, pulling the trigger and taking out a Silverback heart.

A few more R-flints went off. The Silverbacks returned fire. Hank started to bang away. He had no scope, and couldn't hope to actually hit anything, but his R-flint added to the cacophony. Once he emptied his chambers, he dived into the trench again. Jonathan sighted and-

He was on his back, his R-flint on the ground next to him. Blood welled from his thigh, bright red.

├óÔé¼┼ôJonathan!├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank shouted. Jonathan clenched his teeth as the pain hit him. ├óÔé¼┼ôSon of a bitch.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Hank clambered out of the trench and ran to Jonathan He dragged the fallen Deadeye to the trench.

├óÔé¼┼ôBleeding bad.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan hissed.

├óÔé¼┼ôI studied this!├óÔé¼┬Ø Hank snapped his fingers. ├óÔé¼┼ôThat's the heartblood vein!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôStop...jabber...ing...├óÔé¼┬Ø Jonathan had gone quite gray. Hank yanked the shoelace out of his left boot and tied it up above the broken vein. The blood flow slowed. Hank started ripping up some of his clothes and jamming the cloth in the wound.

A shadow fell over the trench. Hank reached for his flint, but stopped when he saw the Imperial medical that stood above him.

├óÔé¼┼ôLet me handle him,├óÔé¼┬Ø The medical said, grabbing Jonathan by his armpits and dragging him onto a stretcher. Another medical grabbed the other end of the stretcher and the two of them rushed off.

Hank grinned to himself. ├óÔé¼┼ôI remembered something. Swe-├óÔé¼┬Ø

A flintshot kicked some snow onto his face, the bullet splattering an inch away from his head. He ducked.

Reserrect Alex allredy. Nice story.

Not bad.

Zoombie, where can I find your other storys?

Use the search thingy and look for posts by Zoombie in the Off topic forum.

Also, Snipa, only a 'not bad'?

Guess I'll have to raise my standards

Possibly so, possibly so.

I like it

Zoombie get to it, I'm starting to get angry and you don't want to see me get angry .

Whoa now...I'm a-waiting on GMN's proofread. But don't worry...it's like...10 pages of awesome!

It is taking too long!

In my defence:
Zoombie sent this to me really late (in the day)
It's very long
It's got way more typos than usual

I'm a third of my way through it