Sisters of Battle

Annisthyrienne

Drive-by mischief
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Oct 17, 2010
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Halcya: the ‘No-Hopers’ colony was not an honorable or much requested assignment for Hesperian soldiers. It is renowned for the lack of pride of the Amazons who are stationed there and for the incidences of poor discipline, unfitness for duty, and downright incompetence. It is a colony remembered for being the place where the Amazons were stopped in the expansion of their empire by the Quaddanis, a place of dishonor to many.

Soon after Chelsea was assigned to the post at Halcyon, (the capitol city of the colony) reports started coming in of a recent upsurge of isolated raiding incidents near the Quaddani border. This was not completely unusual; after all, the truce with Quaddan was an uneasy one and small border skirmishes were common. But these recent raids were more deliberate incursions and were better organized and planned.

Events were already in the works, however, that would change things dramatically. The raids continued to increase in frequency and intensity until full scale conflict had broken out. By this time, it had been confirmed that Quaddani regulars were behind the raids all along, and had just been testing the strength of the Hesperian lines and their willingness to fight. By this time, Chelsea was nearly 20 years old. She was to see four major battles before she was 21 years of age.

The first one took place near a small village called Crickett’s Rock. The Amazons were victorious but it was more of a personal triumph for Chelsea. She received a promotion and the satisfaction of knowing she fought extremely well. Many of her sister’s lives were saved by her actions. She quickly learned that where lives are at stake, one’s differences became most minor and the only thing that really mattered in her squad leader’s opinion was her performance in battle. In that she excelled. Her mother had been a weapons master, and had her own battle school before she died. She had trained Chelsea from an early age in the use of the Hesperian gladius, the war spear, archery, and unarmed combat arts. Her expert training was not to be wasted and Chelsea's abilities were further honed by the actual battle experience, so that her squad leader came to have a grudging admiration for her abilities.

Her next battle experience was also favorable. The Amazons won the battle and Chelsea had many enemy casualties to her credit. However, her third engagement with the Quaddanis was not nearly so successful for Amazon forces. They lost the battle as well as many of their sisters. The carnage was terrible; a thing of such horror to behold that the effects are with Chelsea still.

After that battle they were less active for a while waiting until reinforcements arrive to bolster their ranks. Now it is the night before they are to engage the enemy again. They know the enemy forces outnumber their own, and to make matters worse, they are entrenched within a small town called Pickett’s Row. The mission is to drive them out and liberate the townsfolk.


Reserved for sfaigon.
 
Chelsea stood and watched the new reinforcements as they arrived, heading to the command tent to get their assignments. She looked at their fresh faces, so pretty and full of life and she wondered how many would be dead by this time the next day. It was a terrible thought, she knew. But she was just tired of the fighting, tired of the carnage and bloodshed, tired of seeing women she knew get cut up or killed, or run through with a Quaddani spear.

She gave a weary sigh and was about to turn away to head for the bathing tent when one of the new girls caught her notice. Most of them looked scared; that was normal. Any Amazon soldier had heard of this place. They all no doubt knew what had been happening here. The word had spread, even back in Chersonopolis, the Hesperian capitol. Chelsea would have thought anyone who didn't look scared was a damn fool.

But there was something about this one. She looked like she was just a little lost or something. Resigned to her fate maybe. She was exactly the kind who would probably fall in battle, never having had a chance to learn how to survive. It wasn't fair, she thought again as she turned to head for the baths.

For the next hour, she soaked and tried to relax. But knowing what was coming made it almost impossible. There was always a certain nervous energy before a big battle, and tonight was no exception. A warrior always longed for the comforts of life at such a time: a good hot bath, good food, comfort in the arms of a willing companion. Of course, that wasn't likely to happen for her, she reflected bitterly. Nobody was interested in bedding a half-sized half-breed. Not for the first time, she damned the short male islander slave who her mother had chosen to sire her.

She couldn't get her mind off the new women though, especially the one who'd caught her eye. 'She had stared right at me', she mused. 'Probably wondering why I look so different.' It didn't matter anyway. When Chelsea closed her eyes, she could see the girl's face, and if she kept them closed, she could see the girl being cut down cruelly. She kept her eyes open. "Damn it! Why did it have to be that way?" she said to know one in particular.

What if it could be different? Why couldn't someone do something to keep these women alive, at least long enough to let them get some experience? Why couldn't she? The more she thought about it, the more determined she became. She'd do something about this! She'd at least pick one of them and keep her alive, by the Mother, no matter what it took!

She got out of the bath and dried off quickly, motivated by her plan. There were still many preparations to be made before she'd have to get her squad ready to move out. She dressed in her short tunic, an off the shoulder Grecian style gown that came down to her mid-thigh. Her muscular thighs were displayed to good effect beneath the short hem. Her calves were bare but the laces of her sandals wrapped up to the top of her ankles.

Her cafe au lait skin tone marked her as different from the other Hesperian soldiers, another trait from her 'father'. Her appearance always drew stares, and this time was no exception as she strolled across the camp to her tent. But she ignored them all, intent on her new idea. She arrived at her tent. It was a white canvas campaign tent large enough for two warriors and their gear, but she had had it all to herself since the last battle. Her former tent-mate having met her fate struck full of Quaddani arrows.

Chelsea whipped open the tent flap and ducked inside. She'd taken two steps before she noticed she was not alone. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the new girl setting up her cot.
 
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