[ussbansheec] Fury and Peace
- From: Andy Maluhia <CaptainAndy@xxxxxxxxxx>
- To: ussbansheec@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Wed, 18 Feb 2009 17:14:55 -0500
_Fury and Peace
_by James McEntire, Aneirin tr'Ghaladriel, Andy Maluhia, & Revaed
S'Aehallh'Nveni
/"I will indulge my sorrows, and give way to all the pangs and fury of
despair."--Joseph Addison
/
The bottom of the bottle didn't look any better than the bottoms of the
last three had except now James didn't even know if he could stand. It
wasn't whiskey, just cheap wine. He'd probably start on the whiskey
later. But right now, he needed to pee and sleep and maybe eat
something. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he hopped a little and
pointed himself to the door of the bar.
A gift for her, Aneirin mused, would be a good idea. Something pretty
and special but what that was was undecided as of yet. He wanted to get
Sabine something for no other reason than she deserved nice things. He
found himself wandering the station's promenade, a smile on his face.
Life, he told himself, wasn't bad.
Sister gone. Brother gone. And he'd seen Maggie around, seen her with
a kid, and her brothers. Just seeing his ex-wife had torn a wound in
his heart open as he remembered all the love he'd felt for her and how
much he'd screwed up. James weaved out of the bar and staggered onto
the promenade. He wanted to know if the kid was his. He was about the
right age. He wanted to know...
When he came upon the display of fabrics, he had to sop. Even he, who
cared little for style, found the variety dazzling. Fingers more used
to diagnostic machinery and clinical touch reached to touch a deep
garnet colored silk and he had to shake his head in bemusement. It was
incredible.
"A lovely shade, sir," the shopkeeper, an older Bajoran man, said as he
approached, spying a potential customer. "Maybe not suited to your
complexion, if you'll forgive me for saying so, but perhaps a lady...."
James weaved through the crowd, most people dodging out of his way
because he couldn't keep to a straight line. He bumped into a guy
outside a fabric shop and was about to mumble a sorry when he looked up
and met Aneirin's eyes. "You..."
Aneirin met the familiar blue eyes and bit back a mental sigh. His nose
wrinkled at the reek of alcohol. "What is it, Mr. McEntire?" he asked
mildly.
"You..." Without any further thought, James pulled back his arm and
used all of his strength to slam his fist into Aneirin's face. Then he
pounced. "You fucking BASTARD. You FUCKING MURDERER!" And he pounded
and pounded.
The first punch stunned Aneirin, as did smacking his head on the floor,
but sheer self-preservation shook him out of it. He raised one hand,
thought of simply using the nerve pinch as he'd been taught but then
thought the better of it. Instead, he punched hard to the side of the
other man's head, seeking to simply knock him off so that he himself
could get up. "Get the hell off of me!"
James took the punch and rolled off then onto his feet to come at
Aneirin again. "You fucking murdering bastard," he snarled as he
slammed into him, his fingers trying for Aneirin's throat. "Not happy
letting my brother die? You had to kill my sister too?"
Aneirin's face flushed emerald with a rare thing for him: anger. Again
the strong right hand rose, this time to deliver a gut punch. "Liar!
You know nothing. Your brother's death was inevitable. I did not let
anyone die and your sister tried to kill us!"
"FUCKER!" James howled. The gut punch winded him but he didn't stop
coming, his hands finally curling around Aneirin's neck and he started
strangling. "That what your Rommie father taught you, huh? HUH!"
Later Aneirin supposed that it was just as well that his knife had yet
to be replaced because strangulation did not agree with him, not at
all. He could take any amount of insult but slurs against his father
and family? No.
The thing with being a Marine was that one was always a Marine no matter
if one was off duty. Andy would never have allowed Fleet personnel to
engaged in a public fight and just walk by. That he recognized the two
men involved made it all the worse. "Oh for the love of God..." he
grumbled as he pointed ahead.
"Lovely," Reaved grumbled. "Public debauchery is just pathetic."
"Yeah, yeah, just do me a favor an' grab one of 'em while I grab the
other," Andy replied as he strode past horrified onlookers.
James kicked and spat as he was pulled off of Aneirin. He slammed his
elbow back hard, feeling it connect with the person's face. "Let me
KILL HIM!"
"And do what?" Andy snapped as he grabbed James by his shirtfront.
"Leave your sisters completely without you? Grow the hell up, McEntire,
and crawl out of that bottle for once in your life."
Aneirin froze. Somebody very strong had him by the back of his neck,
the hand neither holding him nor applying pressure. A deep voice at his
ear said, "Move without good reason or permission and you will grow to
understand just why your father still fears me."
James continued to fight for a while longer and then all of the
adrenalin and alcohol disappeared and he sagged. Angry, sad and
blood-shot eyes lifted to stare at Aneirin. "You know what he did," he
whispered. "Who's next, Ghaladriel? Vix? Mo? Me? My Mom?"
"Yeah, I know what he did but that eye for an eye business went out a
long time ago," Andy suggested, his voice more even though he didn't let
James go. "If you do that then you just perpetuate an ugly cycle, man,
and that's just wrong."
"If you think I wanted to kill anyone, that I sought to do it, then you
are insane," Aneirin said steadily, trying hard to ignore the looming
presence whose hand was touching his neck. He wiped his mouth with the
back of his hand and it came away slick with emerald green blood. "But
listen to me and listen well, McEntire. Hate me all you want for what I
did but don't you dare impugn my father's name. He had nothing to do
with what I did anymore than your parents had to do with your sister."
"True," James snarled, "all families have the bad seed. "You starting a
new career, Harold Shipman?"
"What?" Aneirin asked, puzzled, while Revaed said, "Elements damned
Humans have yet to master Standard."
"Most prolific serial killer of all time, skippy, he was a doctor, like
you, he started small, just two or three, like you, then he escalated.
Who's next, Shipman?" James said, his voice low and dangerous.
"Knock it off, McEntire," Andy warned. "Leave the man in peace. You
deal with your wounds and leave him to his."
"Wake up every day and see her face, fucker," James spat. He shook Andy
off, pointing himself in the opposite direction. "Every fucking
morning, wake up and see the face of the woman you murdered."
"What I do or don't do is none of your business. Leave me and mine in
peace and I will happily do the same," Aneirin said steadily. "And I
hope you never have to make the same choice."
If it hadn't been for Andy being there, James would have hit Aneirin
again, but instead he just spat violently on the ground then stomped off.
Andy eyed the man in front of him, half admiring the dignity displayed
even as bright green blood dripped from his wounds. "Look, man, I have
no beef with you but I am going to give you a word of advice: stay away
from that guy. He's drunk and, worse yet, an angry drunk."
"I had no intention of ever seeking him out," Aneirin sighed.
"Smart move, Doc. Go in peace, man," Andy said simply, nodding at his
elder friend.
It was then that Revaed finally removed his hand from Aneirin's neck and
moved to stand in front of him. The younger man didn't flinch, simply
because he was in too much pain, but he could see why people would. The
man's stare was sharper than a phaser.
"You did right by your father's mnhei'sahe, boy," Revaed told him.
"Never be sorry for that. Ever."
--
Ua mau ke ea o ka `âina i ka pono `o Hawai'i
Other related posts:
- » [ussbansheec] Fury and Peace - Andy Maluhia
