Marco Domici: OP North

Tala vainly struggled to repress several memories. While glittering stars from deep space looked down on her well hidden form, a seventeen year old girl's ego was beaten up by painful memory after painful memory. A gentle evening breeze nudged a large brown leaf over her boots as tears welled in her eyes.

She rubbed her face and scanned the camp again. Marco had told her to keep an eye out for anything unusual. Of course, Tala noted wryly, neither of them knew what was usual in a prison camp. Somehow the gentle smile he gave her glossed over her confusion.

Another memory drifted by; looking through a high powered electronic scope mounted on a heavy laser rifle. Seeing people and remaining deathly silent as the shot sequence was plotted. Breathing open mouthed for silence, relaxing every muscle so the body fit into the earth.

Tala knew this was one of Marco's memories. She tasted his anxiety as he mapped out the risk to his team. Those targets weren't paper or models, they were real men and women. They would shoot back if he missed. She felt him assess their body language, were they aware of him or his team?

Tala dialed in the goggles and focused on a guard. He was over half a klick away yet the ambient light and magnification made him seem within reach. An arm lazily came up and a cloud of smoke obscured his face for a moment. Tala looked at his body language, was he aware of the raiders?

Her own memories, the painful ones, reminded her she knew a lot about looking at men. More than a girl her age should. She knew about them looking at her, too. None of them had looked at her like Marco did.

Tala forced herself to watch the guard. He puffed again, and was joined by a female guard. From the way the cigarette was passed, how they stood next to each other, Tala knew they were intimate. Did Marco stand that way next to her? She thought back on her own behavior; had she stood that way for him? Hadn't Jillia? And Johanna? Hadn't Marco given them the same warm smile and the same playful wink?

She brushed her face again and went back to watching the guards. A third joined them, a large male who gave the woman a swat on the rear. "This girl gets around". Thought Tala, going back to breathing open mouthed. A painful memory flitted in as she herself was the object of lewd attention.

She heard laughter in the bar as she stumbled through the dance routine one of the other girls had taught her. It wasn't art, but it earned money for the bar. She heard the laughter as she fell, and felt the hands on her bare legs.

The memory shifted; her jaw hurt badly and a tooth was loose. She slowly stood, and realized this was not her. Half a dozen pre-teen kids were laughing at her, and one big boy still had his fist clenched. As she looked around, she knew many of those kids. Behind her, she knew Becky, the little freckle faced red head who had befriended her and shared meager lunches. Yet Becky was not Tala's friend, but Marco's. She felt his confused concern for her as a friend and a girl, and when the other kids had taunted Becky because of her hand me down dress and worn through shoes, he had stood for her. He had told the fat bully to back off, even though the boy had two years and ten kilos on him.

Her fists had clenched as the bully started to swing again. Dad had said not to fight in school, there were enough issues and he was almost behind a grade already. As the bigger boy's fist hit square in the chest, she saw stars and stumbled back, unable to breath. Her hands flailed as she tried to crawl away. Her eyes focused on Becky's pale blue dress. It was too long for the style, of course, and there were a couple places it had been patched with off color thread.

Her eyes met Becky's. The tears rolled over her freckles and her lips trembled but still said "It's okay." Becky knelt to help her up, her small frame had strength. Her hands were freckled and she had a little dirt under one nail. For a moment they stood together, friend to friend. Becky reached up a thumb and brushed some dirt off the busted lip, and the darted in for a quick peck on the other cheek.

She smiled.

Tala smiled, knowing Becky liked that beaten up scrawny kid. One who stood between her and everyone laughing at her.

"Tala."

She started, and looked around. She had not heard a voice, but heard it.

"Tala. Several air cushion vehicles are heading your way. They are our people. Don't shoot them."

"Who is this?" Tala realized someone was thinking to her. It was weird, but life was getting weirder all the time.

"Remember, Marco said someone would contact you, that's me. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, I guess." She said, before realizing no one was there. "Yeah." She thought.

"I heard you the first time." Tala sensed a friendly chuckle. "I know this takes some getting used to, but it's useful."

"How's Marco...Captain Domici doing?" Tala felt herself ask unbidden.

"Well. He is on the roof now. You can probably see where he is, but won't see him because of the armor."

"Cool." Tala dialed in on the roof. "Hey, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure, but quickly. I need to get back to my work."

"Did Captain Domici..." she paused. Part of her didn't want to know. "Did he put me out here because he doesn't want me around?"

There was a long pause. "You have some of his memories?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Then you know him better than anyone else, anywhere. What do you think?"

"I...it's difficult. There's what I want to think, and what I expect to think." She tried to repress memories of all those others. " Maybe he hates me."

"Maybe he believes in you?"

"Does he like me?" She blurted.

The voice chuckled. "Not mine to say. Be careful and you can ask him yourself."

"Yeah. If Verner doesn't shoot him for playing sack carry with Jillia."

"Ten to seven on that one...see you later."

"Yeah." She said quietly, and breathed open mouth. "I got money on that." She thought for a moment but Becky was gone. "I have got to asked what happed to the big kid. And Becky, too. Hopefully I ain't gonna have to shoot her, too."