Lady Moon, Sha'tan #1

Chapter 12 The Midsummer Festival

The door knob shook madly, followed by a loud knocking:

“Dana, what happened, are you all right?”

A tired Dana moved aside to let in a very dishevelled Jan. He hugged her tightly in relief:

“You didn’t turn up for the speech, and Pietr Vlassov is sitting passed out in a puddle of vomit outside your door. Care to explain?”

Before she could speak, he frowned, taking a good look at her:

“And how did you get that bruise on your chin?”

She sighed. It had only been a few hours since her aggression, and even if her hands had stopped shaking, she didn’t feel like going over it again with her friend. Plus, her jaw was sore, probably cracked, and she didn’t want to overuse it.

“Let’s say Vlassov and I had an argument, of the physical kind, and I won. Now be a doll and get me some ice, while I finish editing my report.”

After thorough consideration, she had decided to go through with it, just in case the request was genuine. Turning back to the screen, she put the last touch to her work, printed and emailed it.  Jan passed her an ice pouch, and she held it to her face.

“Done” she said.

“Kate is busy at work tonight, wanna come with me to the Festival? You’ve been working way too hard recently and tomorrow is a Bank Holiday.”

Dana gave it a thought. She was exhausted, although not so much physically. She could use a bit of fun today. And she felt a pang of guilt about Kate’s “business”.

“Good idea, give me time to change my clothes and drop this file on General Andersen’s desk, then I’m all yours!”

Jan beamed at her:

“If only! Meet you in the yard in ten!”

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“By the way, I got approval from Commander Bashir a tad earlier.  Your cousin will receive individual tuition.”

They were strolling through the press, towards the town’s main square. Dana slowed occasionally to check the festive trinkets exposed in the stalls. It was customary to give small presents to celebrate the Festival, and she was considering purchasing a few.

“Make sure you get that in writing though. You know Bashir, he wouldn’t back you up if something went wrong. What do you think of this one?”

She was holding a nicely woven straw doll, symbolizing Midsummer.

“Cute but not very original. Try again.”

She put the doll down.

“Original is so overrated! What about… hey!”

A small group of men bumped into them, pushing them aside, then lumbered away in an inebriated gait.

Dana reached automatically for the hilt of her swords, hidden under her sun coat. The sun was too low to burn, but showing her weapons in a crowd was unwise, and not taking them foolish. Although the streets were still relatively peaceful, it would not be long before alcohol fuelled fights started. If normal Sha’tans were no concern, intoxicated Whites could prove very dangerous, and they would be legion this night. White Sha’tans were notorious drinkers, out of boredom, or just because they could do it without consequences, thanks to their microscopic allies. And Dana felt she had had enough bad surprises for one day.