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More fic for RSR
Cally in a bar, drinking, etc.
Blake's 7. PG13. post-Children of Auron, pre-Rumours of Death.
Not mine.
Teardrop
by ALC Punk!
Cally wasn't supposed to be there, of course.
In fact, Avon had sent them down to procure supplies. And he'd trusted her not to do something stupid.
Well, this wasn't stupid, but it almost qualified.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her as she lifted her next drink. Pity Vila wasn't there for her to make a necklace of his teeth.
But, no. Instead Vila was back on the Liberator, where Avon could keep an eye on the wily thief. While Cally and Dayna, were down here. Tarrant had wanted to come as well, but Dayna had fobbed him off with something about girls shopping together.
It had been easy to lose the Mellenby girl in the crowds, and a careful manipulation of her bracelet ensured they wouldn't be pulling her out or contacting her anytime soon.
If they even noticed she was gone.
A man sat next to her at the bar, big, almost lumbering.
She ignored him.
"You're new here."
"Am I?"
He was looking at her, but she was still looking at her half-filled drink. "Bet I know how to make your day, darling."
"You might." The gun in her hand prodded him lightly in the side. "But I think not. Move along."
"Is this man bothering you, miss?"
The new voice made her suck in a breath at the familiarity. She didn't turn, she wouldn't turn. "Not if he's smart."
A growl came from her left, but the man removed himself from her presence. She didn't slide the gun back in its holster as the body of her newly-found 'friend' settled next to her. A quick scan of him proved him to be exactly who she'd thought.
"Going to put that away?"
"I don't see a reason to." The ale slid down her throat like a bittersweet benediction.
"You've been waiting a long time, haven't you."
"You tell me."
"Oh, come now, Cally, you can't really expect me to believe that you weren't expecting me."
The hand on her arm almost made her pull the trigger, but she restrained herself. "Let go."
He did, shifting slightly. "Cally--"
"Shut up, you young idiot."
"You do recognize me."
"I know you're young and obviously a fool."
"You've changed," he replied bitterly, "since I burned the President's garden."
"And you haven't changed at all. Bek." It was pointless to continue the charade. If anyone were looking for either of them, they'd have been found by now.
"He told me to start small."
"You didn't start at all."
A shrug that bumped her shoulder, and she tightened her trigger finger then relaxed. "The Federation are good at strangle-holds."
"What word?" She was tired of this fencing. There were more important things to do.
"Jenna Stannis is dead."
The coldly-spoken phrase jars her. "How?"
"She ran a blockade, threw the self-destruct and took half of them with her."
Cally closed her eyes, for a moment assailed by a bitterness she hadn't wanted to acknowledge. How long would it go on? Would she ever find the end of this war, the beginning of peace? Blake could have, maybe, told her once. Now she had only Avon. And Vila.
"And the resistance on Earth has failed again. This time, even the great Kasabi's daughter has been slaughtered in the resulting massacre."
Veron, Cally thought, you should never have tried. "What a pity."
"I suppose." He was petulant again.
"No other word?"
"Nothing of any import."
"Very well." Her drink had been refilled and she downed in one gulp then stood. "I believe this will be our last meeting."
"You do?"
"Yes." She doesn't bother to explain as she heads towards the door.
It was almost too much effort to watch the clockwork precision of what happened next. Her earlier accoster stepped into her path, Bek moved to flank him, and Cally followed her anger, fists slamming into flesh.
The entire bar erupted, chairs, glasses, tables breaking as bodies were thrown. Bek went down, and she stepped over him, focussing on the man who'd punched him. His head snapped back, neck broken. It stopped being linear. She punched and kicked, bit and scratched until suddenly she was standing on the edge, watching.
Sirens were wailing in the distance, and she slid out into the street and around the side as the building, leaning against the wall.
No one's here.
The words echoed out of her brain as she disappeared into the shadows. The city's security forces moved in, walked past her and never saw her.
A few moments, and her bracelet worked again.
"Cally to Liberator. Bring me up."
-f-
Blake's 7. PG13. post-Children of Auron, pre-Rumours of Death.
Not mine.
Teardrop
by ALC Punk!
Cally wasn't supposed to be there, of course.
In fact, Avon had sent them down to procure supplies. And he'd trusted her not to do something stupid.
Well, this wasn't stupid, but it almost qualified.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her as she lifted her next drink. Pity Vila wasn't there for her to make a necklace of his teeth.
But, no. Instead Vila was back on the Liberator, where Avon could keep an eye on the wily thief. While Cally and Dayna, were down here. Tarrant had wanted to come as well, but Dayna had fobbed him off with something about girls shopping together.
It had been easy to lose the Mellenby girl in the crowds, and a careful manipulation of her bracelet ensured they wouldn't be pulling her out or contacting her anytime soon.
If they even noticed she was gone.
A man sat next to her at the bar, big, almost lumbering.
She ignored him.
"You're new here."
"Am I?"
He was looking at her, but she was still looking at her half-filled drink. "Bet I know how to make your day, darling."
"You might." The gun in her hand prodded him lightly in the side. "But I think not. Move along."
"Is this man bothering you, miss?"
The new voice made her suck in a breath at the familiarity. She didn't turn, she wouldn't turn. "Not if he's smart."
A growl came from her left, but the man removed himself from her presence. She didn't slide the gun back in its holster as the body of her newly-found 'friend' settled next to her. A quick scan of him proved him to be exactly who she'd thought.
"Going to put that away?"
"I don't see a reason to." The ale slid down her throat like a bittersweet benediction.
"You've been waiting a long time, haven't you."
"You tell me."
"Oh, come now, Cally, you can't really expect me to believe that you weren't expecting me."
The hand on her arm almost made her pull the trigger, but she restrained herself. "Let go."
He did, shifting slightly. "Cally--"
"Shut up, you young idiot."
"You do recognize me."
"I know you're young and obviously a fool."
"You've changed," he replied bitterly, "since I burned the President's garden."
"And you haven't changed at all. Bek." It was pointless to continue the charade. If anyone were looking for either of them, they'd have been found by now.
"He told me to start small."
"You didn't start at all."
A shrug that bumped her shoulder, and she tightened her trigger finger then relaxed. "The Federation are good at strangle-holds."
"What word?" She was tired of this fencing. There were more important things to do.
"Jenna Stannis is dead."
The coldly-spoken phrase jars her. "How?"
"She ran a blockade, threw the self-destruct and took half of them with her."
Cally closed her eyes, for a moment assailed by a bitterness she hadn't wanted to acknowledge. How long would it go on? Would she ever find the end of this war, the beginning of peace? Blake could have, maybe, told her once. Now she had only Avon. And Vila.
"And the resistance on Earth has failed again. This time, even the great Kasabi's daughter has been slaughtered in the resulting massacre."
Veron, Cally thought, you should never have tried. "What a pity."
"I suppose." He was petulant again.
"No other word?"
"Nothing of any import."
"Very well." Her drink had been refilled and she downed in one gulp then stood. "I believe this will be our last meeting."
"You do?"
"Yes." She doesn't bother to explain as she heads towards the door.
It was almost too much effort to watch the clockwork precision of what happened next. Her earlier accoster stepped into her path, Bek moved to flank him, and Cally followed her anger, fists slamming into flesh.
The entire bar erupted, chairs, glasses, tables breaking as bodies were thrown. Bek went down, and she stepped over him, focussing on the man who'd punched him. His head snapped back, neck broken. It stopped being linear. She punched and kicked, bit and scratched until suddenly she was standing on the edge, watching.
Sirens were wailing in the distance, and she slid out into the street and around the side as the building, leaning against the wall.
No one's here.
The words echoed out of her brain as she disappeared into the shadows. The city's security forces moved in, walked past her and never saw her.
A few moments, and her bracelet worked again.
"Cally to Liberator. Bring me up."
-f-
no subject
This is exactly what was missing from S3; what happened to all of Cally's revolutionary tendencies and how she just got tired.
no subject
I mean, think about it. Blake was gone, Jenna was gone, her 'cause' had changed in an instant during the alien attack. The Federation was falling into decay even more. And what were there goals? Survival. Revenge.
Her entire planet was wiped out, her 'twin' destroyed while they were telepathically linked.
The one man she might consider as a lover used her emotions against her (to save her life, yes, but...).
...Cally was pretty much done with everything at the end.
no subject
Yay!
Gina
no subject