Pip Squeek, the Mercenary Mouse

        Our hero shouldered his way through the crowd and slammed his fist
on the bar, causing the other patron's drinks to momentarily hover in the
air.
        "Barkeep!" The Mercenary Mouse shouted, "I want dinner, a room, a
keg of ale..." The mouse looked quickly around the room and saw what else he
wanted... "And that wench." He pointed to a mouse who was bending over to
pick up an item one of the patrons had "accidentally dropped."  The innkeeper
didn't miss a beat.
        "That'll be five crowns, three marks. Your room is the first on the
right, top of the stairs."
        "Right." Merc threw six coins at the barkeeper.  "Send the wench up
with my dinner.  And keep the change."

        Merc waited anxiously in the appointed room.  This was the moment
he'd been waiting for since his misspent youth.  The mouse-maid entered,
bearing a heavy tray one one hand and a small keg under the other arm.  She
set the tray down on the table, and bent down to set the keg on the floor.
The Merc carressed his hand across her undefended rump.
        He lauged heartily as he caught the wench's hand, just before it
would have landed on his face.
        "Looks like working in this swill-hall has made you slow, Kara." The
Merc said. "Besides, that's no way for my sister to greet me."  The mouse-
maid spit in his face.
        "I don't have a brother, you Rat."  Merc let go of her hand, and
wiped the saliva from his face. "Not alive."
        "I never said you did, sister dear." The mouse maid looked puzzled,
then took a closer look at our hero.
        "PIP?!?"
        "In the fur."  Kara flung her arms around her long lost sister.
        "But.. how?  Where have you been?  What happened to your...?" Kara
gestured at her sister's obvious lack of chest, "And wh.."
        "Sorry, three questions is all you get." Pip cut her off, knowing
that her sister would keep asking questions until she ran out of breath...
and maybe not stop even then.  "How is the long part.  When the K'hans raided
our village, they took me with them as.. a plaything.  You know how cats are.
I escaped, and became the Mercenary Mouse... well, actually, there's a bit
more to it than that... But if I started to talk about that now, we'd never
see the end of it.  Next question.  I've been looking for you for the past
couple of years.  Now I've found you.  As to these..." She gestured at her
own chest area, "The K'hans took them as keepsakes." She shrugged, "I guess
they thought it was funny."
        "Oh, Pip, how awful!"
        "Nah, they woulda gotten in the way anyhow." She said, "Ever tried
finding plate armor in 38D size?"
        "Uh, can't say that I have." Pip saw nothing but pity in her sister's
eyes.
        "Hey, hey, don't go feeling sorry for me, now.  I had a few hard
knocks, but I'm sure you've had it a lot worse.  I saw the way these rufians
treat you."
        "Well... it isn't that bad."
        "Isn't that BAD?  Kara..." Pip shook her head. "Never mind.  I'm
here to take you away from all this."
        "But I still have four more years on my sentence here!"
        "Sentence?  Somebody found YOU guilty of a crime?" Kara nodded.
        "I was hungry, and..."
        "You stole something to eat, and they gave you four years of service?"
Kara shook her head.
        "No, a man... he invited me home, and gave me dinner."
        "That's not illegal, even in the Outlands." Pip noted.
        "He... wanted me to pay for my dinner." The warrior-mouse's brow
darkened.
        "I can guess what coin he wanted it in." Kara nodded.
        "His wife came home and I... They... He..."
        "Accused you of seducing him." Pip finished, "I've seen it before.
Don't worry about it, sister.  I'll talk to the magistrate who sentenced you."
Pip pulled out her sword, a long, slender blade. "I think I can move him to
mercy."

        The next day, Merc went to see the local law enforcement.  He stepped
into the court of the local baron, who looked him over.
        "You must be that new warrior I heard about.  Come looking for a job,
or for trouble?" The baron asked, peering at the Merc over his spectacles.
The Merc shrugged.
        "Maybe both." Merc answered in the husky, "I-take-shit-from-nobody"
voice he assumed with the Merc persona.  "Whatcha got?"
        "Hmph.  Got a bunch of farmers losing livestock to some kinda animal.
Nobody's seen it yet, just a few bloody corpses.  Interested?"
        "Maybe.  What's it worth to you?"
        "Ten marks." The Merc laughed harshly.
        "Try ten crowns, then we'll talk."
        "Three crowns... and I'll pay your room at the inn."
        "Not a bad deal... if you want to hire a hero." Merc spat as though
disgusted, and hitched his thumbs in his belt. "I'm not a hero.  I'm the
Mercenary Mouse, and your offer of work isn't looking so good." He leaned
over and glared into the Baron's face.  "Maybe I should try the trouble
instead."
        "Five..." The magistrate looked into the Merc's eyes, and hastily
corrected himself, "Six, plus your room at the inn." The Merc considered.
        "Tell you what... you do me a favor, and I'll do it just for laughs."
        "What favor?" The magistrate asked, suspicously.
        "The innkeeper supplied me with a girl last night... she's not bad,
and even a Mercenary Mouse gets the urge every now and again.  Commute the
rest of her sentence into my custody, and we've got a deal."
        "Easily done.  You'll get the papers as soon as you bring me the head
of the beast.  Agreed?"
        "Agreed."

        Merc knelt down beside the savaged corpse of the sheep.  He poked and
prodded for a few minutes, then stood up with an expresion of distaste on his
face.
        "Funny kinda animal you got here." He said, "Never heard of an
animal that could use a cross-bow before."
        "What do you mean?" The farmer said, "Look at the way the thing's all
chewed up!  And there ain't no arrow here!" Merc nodded.
        "But there was.  I'd say what you have here is a bad case of poachers.
It's an old trick, you steal what you need, and leave a bloody corpse behind
to make it look like an animal attack."
        "Well, then, I guess you got your work cut out for you, Mercenary."
the Magistrate said.
        "Hey, this wasn't part of our deal!" Merc protested.
        "Sure it was.  You get me the theif's head, just like we agreed, and
then our business is done." Merc had a sneaking suspicion that the Magistrate
knew the animal attacks had been faked, and had more than half a mind to just
settle for handing the Magistrate his own head instead.
        "Fine." He said, sheathing his temper and focusing on business.
"One poacher, coming up." Merc stalked back off to the Inn.

        "So what now, Pip?" Kara asked later that night.  Pip was gathering
various and sundry items and putting them in a satchel.
        "Now I have to set a trap for the poachers." She said.  Then she
put her shoulders back, and her face took on a different look. "Don't worry,
pretty.  I'll be back before you know it." He finished.
        "That's so... weird to watch, Pip." Kara remarked about her subtle
transformation.
        "Please, call me Merc when I'm like this," He asked, "Calling me Pip
just confuses things." Kara shrugged.
        "Suit yourself." Merc caught her chin under his hand, and lifted it
so she had to look into his eyes.
        "Maybe I will.  But not right now." Kara laughed at what she took to
be her sister's playfulness.
        "Oh, stop, you.  Just go and finish up.  I'll be waiting here when
you get back."

        Merc/Pip shouldered the satchel as he/she left the Inn, his/her pace
was slow as he/she went, trying to sort out his/her mind.
        "What the hell was I doing back there?" She asked himself, "Never
mind that I was flirting with a woman, that's my SISTER!"
        "Yeah, so?" He answered her, "She's also the best looking woman I've
seen in a long time!"
        "Stop it!" She ordered herself, trying to bring her thoughts under
control, "This isn't funny anymore.  I'm not a man, I'm a woman."
        "Am I?" He asked himself.  "I've been playing a man for so long,
maybe it doesn't make a difference anymore." She shook her head.  "I should
have stopped this long ago, when I started being different people inside my
armor and out of it." She looked up at the rising moon.  "But what am I to
do now?" She asked it, "Should I follow my mind, or my body?  My birth, or
my heart?" Then, her eyes misting with tears, "Who am I?"
        Angry, Merc dashed the tears from his eyes and set off determinedly.
"I'm the Mercenary Mouse, that's who I am.  And man or not, there's a job I
have to do." He answered himself.
        Merc watched from his perch in a tree overlooking the village
commons.  The herds spread out peacefully below, grazing contentedly.  As
Merc looked on, a shadowy figure crept out of the trees, headed toward the
herd.  Merc knocked an arrow and drew back, waiting.  When the figure crossed
the appropriate section of the commons, he sent a shaft flying toward his
target.
        The arrow struck a small log with enough force to knock it off its
platform.  Freed of the weight of the log, the platform catapulted forward,
setting in motion Merc's trap.  The would-be poacher gasped as his feet came
out from under his, as he was caught in a large net, and dragged through the
commons toward Merc's tree.
        "You have no idea how much fun I had setting that up." Merc remarked
conversationally as he approached his catch.  There was a brief ripping sound,
then the poacher was free.  Sheathing his apparently razor-sharp sword, he
took off running, with Merc in close pursuit.  The poacher was familiar with
the woods and avoided all obstacles--Merc just smashed through them, not
worried about the noise he made.  Several spearpoints, swords and knocked
arrows suddenly appeared in Merc's path, bringing him to a screeching halt.
        "Well, well, well." The poacher turned and strolled back.  "You must
be the legendary Mercenary Mouse.  Looks like your reputation exceeds you."
        "You meen PRO-ceeds me, dumbass." The poacher gave him an arch look.
        "No, I meant what I said.  Surely you had considered that I might not
be working alone?" Merc shrugged, which was as good an answer as any.  "How
much is the Baron paying you to hunt us?"
        "My sister's freedom." Merc growled.  That raised the poacher's
brows a little.
        "Indeed?  Then you may like MY offer even better.  Want to join the
revolution?"
        "Revolution?"  The poacher's eyes lit up.
        "Yes, the glorious uprising of the people!  We're tired of suffering
under the Baron's greed."
        "What will your King say about that?" Merc wondered.
        "The King quite frankly doesn't give a damn.  As long as he gets his,
it doesn't matter who the Baron is!"
        "I take it you have a plan?" The poacher nodded.
        "Of course.  We keep the Baron's guards busy, then you go in and kill
him.  I assume the barony, and that's the end of it."
        "A nice, simple plan." Merc said, "I like it.  The new baron would,
of course, see fit to rectify the injustice heaped upon my sister?"  The
poacher smiled.
        "I see we have an understanding." Merc smiled back.
        "What we have is a deal."

        Merc smashed through the door to the Baron's bedchambers.  The old
man leapt up, clad in his nightclothes, and reached for his cane.
        "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, "We had a deal!"
        "Well, you know, you offered me a choice when I came in: job, or
trouble.  The job didn't pan out, so I'm here for the trouble."
        "Guards!" The Baron shouted, "God damn it, GUARDS?"
        "Don't bother.  They're tied up at the moment."  As a matter of fact,
they were... the poacher and his men had caught them asleep, and overpowered
them without a fight.
        "You can't do this!  You'll be hung!" Merc grinned.
        "Whatever makes you think I'm not?" He faltered, realizing that he
was not, in fact, hung in the slightest.  Merc's sense of self faltered.
This moment of confustion allowed the Baron to reach his sword.
        "Give it up.  I was the greatest swordsman of my day, you know." The
codger advised.  Pip got a grip on herself.
        "Funny, so am I." Merc sneered. But despite his age, the Baron was,
indeed, quite a swordsman, and he was well rested, whereas Merc had spent the
night awake, trapping the poacher.  Merc's main advantage was his plate-mail,
which did a far better job of protecting him than the Baron's thin night-
shirt.  The Baron knew this, and took actions to correct the situation.
        "Ha!" He cried, slicing through one of the leather straps that held
the armor on, then "HA!" again, as he sliced the other, and the armor fell
away, revealing Merc's linen under-shirt.  Enraged (and having lost one of
his psycological props), Merc pushed back, using his youth and strength to
his advantage.  The Baron could hardly hold up with his hand going numb from
the sword's clatter.  The Baron stumbled backward over a stool, and his
sword lashed out blindly, slashing an arc through Merc's shirt.
        Pip cried out, her voice faltering, as her mutilated chest was
exposed.  She hastily used her free hand to hold up her garment, while trying
to press her attack with the other.  It was no use, however.
        "What's the matter?  Lose your nerve with your armor?" The Baron
didn't know how accurate his taunt was.  The armor had long been one of the
few concrete distinctions between Pip and Merc, and without it, she was
having trouble thinking like the Mercenary Mouse.  Especially with her
shirt ripped and trying to display her stolen femininity.  He began to press
his advantage, forcing her slowly back, until it was she who was struggling
beneath his blade. The sword's tip gouged a shallow line of blood in her
face as she tried to push it back.
        "Screw this," She swore, "I don't need Merc to beat you." She brought
her boot up and jammed it most emphatically into his groin.  The Baron lay
there curled on the floor in unbearable agony, while Pip gathered her armor
off the floor, and rearranged the straps.
        "That's better." Merc said, striding across to his writhing enemy.
He grabbed the Baron by the back of his head, pulled him out of the fetal
position, and seperated his head and shoulders.  He went outside, where the
others were waiting.
        "I'm done." He informed the jubulent poacher. "Now, about my
sister..."
        "Of course, of course.  Come to the courthouse, and we'll clear
things right up." They repaired to the aformentioned courthouse, where the
poacher donned the robes and wig of a magistrate.  "Now, you understand, of
course, that we can't REALLY just let your sister free..." Merc's hand went
to his sword. "We can, however, release her into your custody.  She's yours,
for the next four years.  Here's the paper, and don't let the door hit you on
the tail on your way out." The poacher-turned-baron was already moving on to
other business as Merc left. "Next order of business.  A marble statue of me,
the hero of the people, to be erected in the commons."
        "Marble is expensive, m'Lord." One of the men commented.
        "Then I guess I'll just have to raise taxes, won't I?"
        Merc went back to the Inn, took off his armor, and climbed into bed
next to her sister.  She looked at her sister's prone, shapely form, and felt
Merc's attraction.  She sighed, and rolled over, thinking to herself that it
was going to be a long night.  Of course, immediately after thinking that,
Pip fell into the sleep of the justfully weary, a dark, peaceful, and
thankfully dreamless state.

        A couple of weeks later...
        "Where are we going, Pip?"
        "Damnit, I told you, call me Merc!" Merc growled, "And we'll know
where we're going just as soon as we get there."  Pip stopped, and shook her
head. "I'm sorry, Kara, it's just... oh, hell, I don't KNOW what it is!"
        "Maybe you don't," Kara thought, "But I think I do."
        "There's a farm up ahead... I'll see if we can get a place in the
barn for the night." Merc said, thinking to himself that he could certainly
enjoy a "roll in the hay."
        Merc knocked on the farmer's door, and recieved a prompt response.
He inquired as to lodging for the night.  The farmer looked at him, looked
at Kara, and spat a thick black wad of some noxious weed into a nearby pot.
        "Look here, son.  This is a farm, not a brothal."  Merc raised his
hands in a gesture of innocence.
        "I never said it was.  Just asked if my sister and I could stay the
night in your barn... I'm willing to pay, or work, whichever you like."
        "You his sister?" The farmer asked Kara, dubiously.
        "Of course." The farmer grunted non-commitally.
        "Uhn.  Well, you get inside and help m'wife with dinner... you do
know how to cook, yes?"
        "Oh, yes sir, quite well."
        "Well, that'll be a welcome change." The farmer ducked instinctively,
as a bit of crockery went sailing at his head.  "Heh. An' you, boy, can use
those fence-posts you call arms to chop me some firewood.  Fair 'nuf?"
        "It's a deal."
        Merc located the axe, and a sizable pile of logs waiting to be cut.
He shucked off his armor, and set to the cutting, the sheer physical effort
helping to keep him "in character".  After a few minutes, he was drenched in
sweat, and thoroughly enjoying himself.  He paused when he heard the back
door close behind the farmer's daughter.
        "Hey stranger, you'll stink to high heaven when you get done!  Take
yer shirt off, it'll be a lot easier, and you won't spoil our dinner later!"
Merc leaned on his axe, panting.
        "Miss, I've been in a lot of fights... I got some scars that ain't
nice to look at.  If I took my shirt off, it'd likely ruin your appetite
anyway." He set another log on the cutting block, and hefted the axe. "'Sides,
I was hoping to take a dunk in yonder pond when I got done.  I got a clean
shirt in my pack."
        "Oh." The girl said, and went back inside, disappointed.
        "Pi.." Kara came out and saw Merc standing there in all his sweaty
glory, "Uh, Merc, dinner's done."
        "So's the firewood." Merc said, flinging the last few cords into a
pile. "I'll have to thank the farmer... that's the best workout I've had in
weeks."
        After dinner, they climbed up into the hayloft to bed down for the
night, or so Kara thought.  Merc had other ideas.
        "Mmm... nice and warm up here, isn't it, Kara?"
        "Actually, it's a little too warm." Indeed, the barn trapped the heat
of the day.. it would doubtless grow cooler as the night wore on, but for the
moment, it was rather oppressive.
        "Well, there's a cure for that," Merc said, as he stripped bare.
"Come on, I'm your SISTER.  Being naked in front of me doesn't count, does
it?"
        "I guess not..." Kara said, doubtfully, as she slipped out of her
blouse and her skirt. She heaved a sigh. "You're right, that is... Pip, why
are you looking at me like that?"
        "I was just thinking, that's all." Merc came closer to his sister.
"You know..." He caressed her cheek, "You look nice like this."  Kara pulled
away.
        "Pip.. I don't understand." Merc pulled her close, and nuzzled her
neck.
        "Don't you, Kara?" He lifted her chin so that she had to look into
his eyes.  "Sweet little tit-mouse like you?"  She saw what he wanted.
        "Pip, I... think I'd better put my clothes back on..."
        "Oh, no, Kara, you don't want to do that..." With his foot, he gently
pushed her clothes off the ledge.  "Come here, and lie down next to me."
        "Damnit Pip, you're my SISTER!  What the hell are you doing?" She
yelped as Merc forced her down, "STOP!" Kara hadn't worked in an ale-house
for three years without learning a few things.  She brought her knee up,
hard and swift, into Merc's gut.  Merc doubled over and regretted having
seconds at dinner.
        "Bitch!" He choked. "I OWN you!"
        They both sat there staring at each other for a minute, frozen by
what he'd just said.
        "Kara, I..." Pip began, "I didn't mean that, really, I..." Kara
walked past, and stood at the top of the ladder.
        "When did it happen, Merc?  When did it stop being a game you played
with the world?"
        "I don't know." Pip admitted, "I... just lost track of myself
somewhere." Kara mounted the top of the ladder, and worked her way down.
When only her head remained above the ledge, she gave Merc a fierce, angry
look.
        "As far as I'm concerned, you killed my sister, Merc.  I'm leaving.
If you want to try and come after your "property", go ahead.  But considering
that you're a murderer, I might just have to do something un-ladylike." With
that, she climbed down, gathered her clothes, and stole away into the night.
Pip/Merc watched her walking away, and sighed.
        "You're right, little sister." Merc said, "I killed her.  But it was
either her or me." He turned away.
        "What do you expect?  I'm a Mercenary."

Finis