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OOM: More Bad Dreams...
Jun. 16th, 2006 01:09 amBonzo was standing in an office, looking out the window at a city, probably Madrid. The only thing is that the city is in smoldering ruins. Smoke rises from many of the buildings.
"You couldn't have prevented this, Bonzo. The wars came and you couldn't have stopped them."
"Spain was supposed to remain neutral, not join in against the IF."
"I know. Still...did it have to be this devastating?"
"It did. It was the only way to win."
He looks back out the windows, and shakes his head.
"If only..."
"No ifs."
"No, Master. If only I had done something, anything..."
"You do realize what the alternative was, do you not?"
Bonzo shakes his head.
The dream fades into a bunker, clearly military, though the time is uncertain to Bonzo.
There's a war going on outside, and Bonzo can feel it. Mainly because of the explosions that are shaking the IF bunker, that the anti-IF forces have taken, apart. He walks over to a slit window just in time to see a massive explosion outside.
"We can't hold them off any longer, General. There are too many out there."
The Russians. He's fighting the Russians in what became a four-way war recently. Russia, China, Western Europe and the US, and the IF all opposing eachother. And he's working with the US.
"Do whar you must, but hold them off..."
Suddenly, a blast tears through the compound wall, sending Bonzo flying backwards. He lands against a bank of computers, nearly unconscious. Only a lot of focus brings him to his feet as he hears footsteps coming into his room. Closing his eyes, Bonzo reaches down to his belt, and pulls an object off it...a cylinder that emits a blade the color of the summer sky.
The invading soldiers storm in, and Bonzo moves to intercept them. He moves as quickly as a non-Force-sensitive human could be expected to, and shocks many of the soldiers merely by his presence with the blade. He probably cuts down a dozen and injures another five or six severely, taking a few grazing bullets in the process. But they're only flesh wounds, and he keeps fighting until one strikes him in the chest.
Bonzo goes down, taking another shot in the shoulder as he goes, and he drops the lightsaber. It lands just out of reach of his hand, and the soldiers storm in. He turns, looking up at the men storming in, and suddenly hears a thunderously loud bang. He can barely see, but he notices one of the soldiers pick up his lightsaber.
"What did this guy think he was? Some kind of a Jedi?"
"I dunno, but this thing works...
The dream fades back to the office, where he's looking out the window.
"I'd choose that over this."
"Why?"
"I shouldn't survive a war by hiding in some corner of the world unless I'm doing something there."
"Doing something?"
"Doing something useful. I survived the war, but for what? At least there...there, I made a difference."
"Did you? You fell in the opening weeks of the war. The result was the same."
"Yes, but..."
Bonzo wakes up from his dream/nightmare sweating. No, no, not more of these to keep him up in the middle of the night. Not more of these dreams.
He gets out of bed, and looks in the mirror. Those dreams may not be real, but they were sure freaking him out. And he can't help the nagging feeling that back home, two options are becoming open to the world: Bad and worse.
"You couldn't have prevented this, Bonzo. The wars came and you couldn't have stopped them."
"Spain was supposed to remain neutral, not join in against the IF."
"I know. Still...did it have to be this devastating?"
"It did. It was the only way to win."
He looks back out the windows, and shakes his head.
"If only..."
"No ifs."
"No, Master. If only I had done something, anything..."
"You do realize what the alternative was, do you not?"
Bonzo shakes his head.
The dream fades into a bunker, clearly military, though the time is uncertain to Bonzo.
There's a war going on outside, and Bonzo can feel it. Mainly because of the explosions that are shaking the IF bunker, that the anti-IF forces have taken, apart. He walks over to a slit window just in time to see a massive explosion outside.
"We can't hold them off any longer, General. There are too many out there."
The Russians. He's fighting the Russians in what became a four-way war recently. Russia, China, Western Europe and the US, and the IF all opposing eachother. And he's working with the US.
"Do whar you must, but hold them off..."
Suddenly, a blast tears through the compound wall, sending Bonzo flying backwards. He lands against a bank of computers, nearly unconscious. Only a lot of focus brings him to his feet as he hears footsteps coming into his room. Closing his eyes, Bonzo reaches down to his belt, and pulls an object off it...a cylinder that emits a blade the color of the summer sky.
The invading soldiers storm in, and Bonzo moves to intercept them. He moves as quickly as a non-Force-sensitive human could be expected to, and shocks many of the soldiers merely by his presence with the blade. He probably cuts down a dozen and injures another five or six severely, taking a few grazing bullets in the process. But they're only flesh wounds, and he keeps fighting until one strikes him in the chest.
Bonzo goes down, taking another shot in the shoulder as he goes, and he drops the lightsaber. It lands just out of reach of his hand, and the soldiers storm in. He turns, looking up at the men storming in, and suddenly hears a thunderously loud bang. He can barely see, but he notices one of the soldiers pick up his lightsaber.
"What did this guy think he was? Some kind of a Jedi?"
"I dunno, but this thing works...
The dream fades back to the office, where he's looking out the window.
"I'd choose that over this."
"Why?"
"I shouldn't survive a war by hiding in some corner of the world unless I'm doing something there."
"Doing something?"
"Doing something useful. I survived the war, but for what? At least there...there, I made a difference."
"Did you? You fell in the opening weeks of the war. The result was the same."
"Yes, but..."
Bonzo wakes up from his dream/nightmare sweating. No, no, not more of these to keep him up in the middle of the night. Not more of these dreams.
He gets out of bed, and looks in the mirror. Those dreams may not be real, but they were sure freaking him out. And he can't help the nagging feeling that back home, two options are becoming open to the world: Bad and worse.
