Chapter One: Lone Survivors
An Original Story By: Pizzachu
I live in a world on the brink of war. We stand world-against-world in a struggle for freedom - freedom from oppression, freedom from servitude, freedom from a power-hungry government seeking to control our every move. We stand friend-against-friend and brother-against-brother in a fight for the right to live our lives how we choose.
This new rising king - this Da’vid Anthony - is impressively powerful; he can influence the minds of those around him and directly manipulate any he comes in contact with. He promises peace under his rule, and I’m sure there would be. He simply brainwashes or kills anyone who opposes him, so who would be left to stir up trouble? When he first entered the arena of feckless politics, Anthony had few supporters, but he moved quickly and with unexpected force. It wasn’t long before diplomats began being “persuaded” to join him. And when he gained all he could through debate and subtle tricks, he changed his strategy. Before anyone knew what was happening, we were at war. Planets fell to Anthony before they so much as knew they had been under attack. There are thirteen planets in our system, and in a single day eleven were lost. The takeover on the core planets was stealthy, and the inhabitants barely noticed a change; unless of course they worked for the former government, but even then they were dead and couldn’t complain. The first seven put up no resistance after that; they joined him willingly. The next four fought against the usurper, but each fell within a week. The two planets on the edge of the system, Deyja and Frysta, held their own though. I guess they expected us “backwater planets” to just surrender and sent less troops; they should have sent more
. Out here, people were mostly self-reliant from the start, so a political takeover didn’t shake us too much. But that doesn’t mean we were okay with it. We sent those lackeys back to the capital with their tails between their legs. And in doing so, we may as well have painted a big, red target on our backs. There would be a war - the eleven core planets against the meager might of two. Supposedly we are the traitors here, we fight against peace and embrace chaos, and we are not to be trusted. Maybe that’s true; maybe we do resist peace. We believe in a world where everyone’s free to guide their own path, whether they choose to be good or bad - kind or wicked - right or wrong. We fight for the right to do as we please and to live in anarchy if that’s what it takes. So, are we the heroes or the villains? That’s not for me to say.
I am Senna Thorn. I am not a hero. I’m not even important. When the war began, I was only sixteen, hardly noteworthy. I fight like everyone else, and I follow orders. It’s not complicated, not out here. We fight, or we die. If enough of us die, we lose everything. So we stick together; nobody gets left behind. It’s been two years, and our numbers are greater now than ever before. Our resistance is very much alive, but they never give up... No one expected the war to last this long. To be honest, we all thought we’d be dead by now. Time gives us hope and keeps us fighting in never ending battle after battle. We’ve made it this long, so we must be doing something right. And we aren’t as defenseless as we may seem. Power is not limited to those in the core, and “king” Anthony is not the only being possessing such “talents” as his mind mastery. Not everyone has it - most do not - and some are more powerful than others. But these “talented” people can be anywhere, including in these outer worlds. These “talents” can manifest themselves in many ways and can be just about anything. No one knows what causes them, but certainly no one is complaining about having them. They come in handy quite often in these hard times, and these “talented” people form our front lines of defense.
I am one of these people, and today
we gather on Deyja to plan a strike against an enemy outpost on Ytri, the nearest Mid World. We’ve always dealt in defense, so this attack will be unexpected and with luck be an easy victory for us. All strike and defensive teams are gathered today in the former capital city’s council chambers. Now our leader, Kimara Tallin, stands atop the risen platform in the front of the room, and all eyes are on her as she briefs everyone on the events which are about to play out. I stand proudly behind her, one of the five members of her personal strike team. All appears to go well, and the rebels cheer in excitement of the upcoming battle.
The floor shakes beneath our feet, and at first we believe it to be the result of the commotion before us. But Kimara knows better. She raises her hand for silence, and everyone is quick to obey. When the shaking doesn’t stop, we know it was more than cheering troubling the ground beneath us. There is a sound liken to an explosion just outside the doors, and the quake is enough to knock several of us off our feet.
“They’re through our defenses!” Kimara shouts from where she kneels on the stage just a few feet from where I’ve fallen. “Quick! Everyone to your stations!” People scatter in all directions as more blasts go off all around us.
The air fills with a heavy cloud of dust and the harsh sounds of screams. No one can get out. The exits were targeted first, and now we are all trapped in here as Anthony’s troops bomb the building to rubble. There is mass panic as we all struggle to take what cover we can.
“Jartan! Senna!” I look towards the voice to see Kimara opening a trapdoor in the floor that once served politicians in need of a quick escape, not unlike ourselves now. I crawl across the rubble covered stage, closely following my team member, Jartan. As I glance around, I see we are the only ones of our team still alive. Is this really happening?
Everything we’ve worked for destroyed in a matter of minutes? How did this happen?!
There is another explosion just ahead of me, and I am thrown back like a piece of rubble. As I crash into a wall that was somewhere behind me, my head bounces off the hard stone surface, and I see stars. I tumble to the ground along with much other debris. I look up to see the stage being blown apart by another violent explosion.
And then I slip into the darkness.
* * *
The world around me is dark, and the air nearly impossible to breathe it is so full of dust and smoke. I feel blood trickle down the side of my face, no doubt an injury from when I hit my head in the explosion. I’m now lying beneath a pile of wreckage that likely saved my life from the fiery explosions. Careful not to shift anything that may cause the rubble to crush me, I crawl free and take a look around at the devastation around me. The council chambers are completely destroyed. There are piles of rubble scattered here and there, and a few fires burn nearby. I can’t tell where the stage once was as there is no sign that it or any sort of room beneath it ever existed. I search in every direction, but all I see is more death and destruction. Not knowing what else to do and unwilling to accept that everyone can truly be dead, I begin digging through rubble in hopes of finding a former friend. Hours pass, and the last dim rays of light fade from the sky, but still I find no one. In that one attack, we lost everyone... So much for our numbers being greater than ever, it looks like I’m the only one left now...
What else am I supposed to do? Can I really just give up now? I have to at least hope there are others still out there. The resistance can’t have lost, not now, not like this. So, I keep looking, until I hear a strange voice not far behind me.
“You won’t find any survivors. Believe me, they’re all dead.”
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