The shells struck about seven meters from me. Diving saved my life. Hitting the mud, my ears took a second to catch up to the sound of the perfectly in sync detonations. I could feel it, though. The shaking of lethality reverberating.
I kept my head down for five, maybe ten seconds. Seconds of silence. Seconds of reprieve. I soon heard the shouts of those nearby me, though. And those sweet seconds were ripped from me. I stood, scanning over the terrain, seeing a hand raised outside of a nearby pit. I hurried over, with thankfully no more death being rained down near me, for now. I could see distant detonations in a line off in the distance, making it seem like, to me, that the enemy had assumed this area decimated enough, and had moved onto other areas that were attempting to make pushes or more heavily fortify. Though, really, for me, it didn’t really matter. I slid down into the pit, the mud beneath me almost causing me to fall forward onto my face, equipment and all. But I remained standing. Looking around at the other people in the pit.
There were seven us now, if you included me.
Our commanding officer, Centurion Blackwell, was standing a few feet from me. He’d undergone two field promotions, being two ranks lower at the start of the conflict, however the death of two superiors and his ability to not be atomized by powergun fire meant that he was moving up quick. He was a taller man, with the skin complexion of someone who’d spent too long in the Urbos sun, and a pair of striking hazel eyes. His death glare, at this point was legendary. His equipment, though, had seen better days. His rifle was clearly on it’s last legs, the metal body of it dented and dinged. His sidearm was gone, lost in the shuffle at some point, with the weeks since resupply. His body armor, once pristine synthetic, was now stained with a dried mixture of mud and blood. He had a knife in his hand, idly rested in his palm. I had no idea what he intended to do with it.
He had three people in his second in command position. The fault of more haphazard field promotion. Elias, someone I knew before getting sent out here, a neighbor. He was Capios born and raised, along with Imperial born and raised. He was always almost…happy to be here. Crazy bastard. Saul was next, an Urbos native. He’d gotten shipped out here when the need for more recruits, and was the only person here not a draftee. He didn’t talk much. Cassia, also from Capios as far as I was aware. She had been talkative the first few weeks. She wasn’t enthusiastic, but she was at least personable…until about a week ago, when she’d been the only survivor of one of the advances. She’d shut up after that. Each of them had gotten promotions for various things, I wasn’t sure of what. But it didn’t matter that much.
Other then those four, there was our medic. Rask. He was a mercenary, effectively. Well trained doctors weren’t common in the Empire, so they often hired out, like a lot of governments did. By the look of his expression he wasn’t too happy with where he’d ended up through his contractor. His fatigues were dirty, and his medical kit, a sealed grey metal box containing all sorts of various materials, was slung over his back. He was the real deal, at least. He’d managed to seal shut almost my entire torso with one of his implements. One of few benefits of working around people with military grade.
Finally, we had one guy with powers. Last, he called himself. He didn’t give a real name. He was one of the sillier ones, like that. He hadn’t had his abilities longer then this conflict. The stories back at the camp were that once the ADA’s landed, he was caught up right between a meteor and the giant masses of metal. He choses his chances with the former, but got cut in half by a shell first. Didn’t matter, though. He came right back, and shot right back with his standard issue 52. He wasn’t faking either. I’d seen him get blown to bits by shells, or filled with holes big enough to stick your thumb through, and just. Get back up a second later, like nothing happened. Couldn’t ask me to answer how it worked. That’s how it was with powers. I’m sure some science nerds like my old friend group could tell me all about what contact points were and how they worked, but I didn’t care. It had never been important me, at least it hadn’t been before getting shipped out here, where they were…more common then I’d like.
Apparently, there were plenty of Proteans out here, but I hadn’t seen any but Last. Yet. Though the rumors spread like wildfire in camp, about who was and wasn’t. Like a boogeyman, the idea that the person next to you could have abilities beyond what you could understand loomed over everyone. Not just here, across the whole damn system.
Either way. Last was fine enough. Even if he didn’t talk.
Blackwell leaned off the wall, and moved to the center of us. His face was grim, as he moved to address us.
“Right. Our orders still stand. We have to advance up the hill to the north of here. There, we’ll link up with Tribune Magnus, and use his greater forces to hopefully take out one of the Legion landing points. This should, according to the intelligence they’ll tell me, coincide with an orbital attack which should make sure we don’t get pulverized. I’m less worried about that, as much as I’m worried about the advance to get to Magnus’s group.”
He reached onto his belt, and pulled out a small device, which he tossed down into the dirt. It flickered to life, projecting a map in front of us. The area was cast over in a nice grey through the projection. The area was actually a mix of fields, hills and massive pits-formerly verdant and green, now reduced to a warzone. The Commonwealth hadn’t been so bad a place, before all of this. The hill we’d need to ascend was about two miles away, across relatively open ground. It was surrounded by several others, and was a natural wall against direct advance over ground. Atop the hill was what seemed to be a camp-Tribune Magnus’s camp if I had to guess, and it looked fortified to the teeth. Enough defenses to deter shelling, at least. Though it wasn’t him I was worried about.
To the left and right of the map, I could see red dotted zones, where we knew the enemy was. They were pressing inwards on this section of the country, slowly. The Empire had entered the war not thinking it was going to have to tangle with much, besides a smaller confederated nation. Then both the Legion, and a group called the Retribution Accord entered the war. Bringing better technology, and equal manpower. Giant robots, plasma weapons, armies of drones and enough guns to level the best fortifications. The only reason the Empire hadn’t been drowned in destruction had been introducing conscription-and gathering far more Proteans like Last to bear. Including the golden boy, Incarnum, who was holding basically the entire North by himself.
Our approach, at the very least, was suicide. And it seems I wasn’t the only one to notice this. Rask raised his hand. Blackwell nodded his direction, a go-ahead.
“Sir. With all due respect. This isn’t doable. Only Last is going to make it. If shells don’t rip us to shreds, any of the SPEAR units that head to our location will. Hell, even drones will make short work of us in our state.” He said this all quickly. An obvious hint of nervousness, or borderline panic to his voice.
Blackwell grimaced. At least he knew.
“I’m aware the odds aren’t in our favor. But those are our orders. I’m optimistic that the artillery will be a bit too busy with similar operations from the east and west flanks, we aren’t the only ones being told to head to the Tribune’s position. We’re the closest of those groups.”
He did a few inputs on the map. Seven other collections of various colors of dots appeared on the map, all at various points around us, but not quite within range of the dots which represented the enemy. Other squads. As small as three, and as large as twenty one.
“I anticipate the enemy will try to engage them, probably thinking that they’re moving to flank the landing point. Hopefully assuming it’s just another suicide mission. We, on the other hand, mostly have a straight shot. If they send anything, it’ll be ADA’s, with a few fast moving supplanting troops. We can handle those. If they shell us…we’ll just have to move faster.”
A colossally stupid statement. We were going to get blown to bits.
I looked around to everyone else. Rask looked even more nervous then before. Cassia leaned off to the side to puke. Elias gave a salute. Saul just looked down at his feet. Last was stoic. Blackwell…as I looked back to him, he just looked grim.
“Get ready, everyone. We move out in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes to contemplate my own death. How fitting. I sighed, and leaned up against the side of the pit. The glow of the map in front of me flickering out as I simply stared into the middle distance.
The rest of the squad moved around me, preparing, or doing what little they could, given the circumstances. My gear was just as ready as it had been an hour ago, I hadn’t had to fire off any shots today, nor many in my entire time here. It’s not that I was a bad shot, more that…everyone else had been better. I didn’t mind. Less blood on my hands. Not to say I was absolutely clean, though, there still was…
I was snapped from my stupor by someone nudging me. I looked up to see Last looking down at me. He made a ‘get up’ sort of motion, and I complied, brushing myself off, and muttering a brief “Sorry, just thinking-” to him. My first words in a few hours. My throat felt like shit even with the light movement. He just nodded. The squad was preparing to move out. Had it been ten minutes already? Must have.
I pulled myself to my feet, and moved to follow them, falling in line behind Elias. It was two columns of two, myself and Elias, then Saul and Cassia on the other side. Rask between us, then Blackwell in front of him, and Last behind him, forming a third column. We set off at a reasonably quick pace, weapons out as we headed for the looming hill in the distance.
I looked around, as we moved, both in a paranoid expectation for something to crop up to start shooting at us, and both to occupy my eyes and mind. The fields here, where they weren’t cratered, were still grassy and green. The sun above wasn’t quite blistering, and it cast…an almost nice shine over everything. This would be a nice place, if not for the war.
It was eerily silent too. Any sound of battle being too far away to comprehend or parse currently. Just the sound of our own footsteps and movements. My eyes settled on a nearby crater, which housed about half a dozen crushed, bloody, and viscous imperial uniforms. I decided that was enough eye wandering. That sight plus the silence was enough for me. This was hell.
I kept my gaze firmly on Elias’s back now, and tried to put my thoughts to anything but my experiences in these plains, to no avail. Every time I blinked, I found myself somewhere else, another scene of violence, another scene of blood, another scene of mayhem. Another scene of death. It was all pounding in around me, only compounding my awareness of my own bodies aches and pains, from my most recent haphazard life saving dive, and all the other small injuries, bruises and wounds that hadn’t gotten the chance to heal with any meaningful downtime. I was functioning on little sleep, adrenaline, and fear for my life.
That almost made me relieved to hear the screaming of another shell. We quickened pace, my heartbeat accelerated, and I could hear the sound of the detonation behind me, muffled somewhat by distance, along with the burst of light in my peripheral. We were mostly out of it’s detonation range, about sixty meters. Luckily. I heard Last grunt, turning briefly, I saw a large hole through his side. I blinked, and it was gone. I turned my eyes back forward after nearly stumbling and falling at the start of the incline. We’d made it to the base of the hill. I saw flashes off to my right and left, more of the same type of shell detonating and spreading out it’s death. If I had to imagine, Blackwell had been right about the other squads taking fire. They weren’t focused on us. Or so I hoped. We still had the climb, and-
Of course, I’d thought too soon. I heard Cassia shout, pointing to her left. Emerging from the other side of the hill was a squad of Legion, grey uniforms unmistakable. To the right, Elias pointed out another. We all turned, to face one enemy or another. Not fast enough. Powerguns fired off, bursts of plasma. Elias was dead before we could even move. I could feel the heat of the plasma, but thankfully, I wasn’t hit. It had ripped straight through him though. His center torso and neck were just-gone. Last took four blasts to the chest, but he reacted all the same, activating a handheld device, some manner of grenade, and tossing it towards the left group. Meanwhile, Saul was on the ground. He wasn’t moving, but his chest was moving up and down, implying he was still alive. That’s when I noticed his arm was between us. I didn’t waste any more time, raising my own weapon to fire back at the ones past us. I noticed a lack of fire coming from the side Last had tossed his grenade, but I hadn’t heard an explosion.
Rask, for his part, had hit the dirt, and moved over to Saul, moving to activate his kit, Last moving into a guarding position, taking fire, literally, for the pair. Cassia had frozen up, but somehow was still alive, and was returning fire. Blackwell…
I spared a glance. He’d advanced a few steps, and had seemingly activated…was that a flare? Was he stupid? I shouted at him, indistinctly, I was pretty sure it wasn’t even words. His sidearm was ablaze with fire, accurate shots at that. That was until a powergun blast to the leg and side sent him to the ground, with one less limb and what might be a mortal wound. Cassia saw that, and lost her nerve. She hit the dirt, screaming. I numbly held my finger down on the trigger, now the only one standing besides Last. It seemed like the left group had fallen back, so it was only the right group, in front of me. I’d taken down two, in something of a quick and bloody haze. Last had taken down several more. They were mostly focused on him, he had the far scarier weapon, a much larger rifle, and he was the brute here, but there were a few shots towards me which I was mostly getting lucky with. However-
I felt the heat. And excruciating pain.
I stumbled over, now fully behind Last’s armored body. Breathing hard, I looked down to see the seared part of my armor. I’d gotten lucky, it had only melted that into the skin. I’d live, probably. That was, if-
Last stopped firing. He needed to reload, probably. Which meant we were likely dead, without his cover. I braced myself, knowing I couldn’t really prepare myself for something like this.
But it didn’t come. Instead the entire ground shook.
I slowly began to rise back from my position braced, looking around. The entire right side Legion squad was gone, a crater replacing them. Looking over to the left, I saw a few Legion bodies, and a few currently retreating, only for a large detonation to consume them too, body parts flying back the other side of the hill. The ADA units that had been there were sparking on the ground, incapacitated.
I looked back up the hill, and saw very faint, distant movement. Magnus’s group. They had guns up there. That was why Blackwell had lit the flare. I regained just that bit more of faith, with that. But it didn’t explain the incapacitated machines. I looked over to Last over from the scene, my question probably plain.
“EMP grenade. They’ve been giving the experimental shit to me, because worst case, it blows up in my face.”
That didn’t explain to me how such a weapon was possible, but if I had to guess, it was protean bullshit. I shook my head, and looked to the rest of the squad. Saul was stable, so Rask had moved over to Blackwell, getting to word with his kit. Cassia had slowly pulled herself off the ground, shaking visibly as she reached for her weapon. I did my best to avoid her gaze.
Last seemed to survey the situation. On the lookout for more enemies I was sure. He seemed out of it, but then again, he almost always did.
About twenty seconds passed, before Rask stepped away from Blackwell, helping him up and bracing him against his shoulder. He did cast a worried glance back to the rest of us.
“The Centurion doesn’t have long. My kit’s nearly empty.”
Saul staggered to his feet.
“Then, while he’s incapacitated, I’m assuming command.”
A long pause after that, no one objected, so he continued.
“Mission remains. Get to the hilltop. We can get help for the Centurion there. Move quickly, and in formation, with Last in the very back, myself and Tiro Evergreen in the front, and then Cassia, Blackwell, and Rask in the middle. We’ll be spread out, as to deter artillery from targeting us. If we move fast, we might have a chance.”
The might in his sentence hung in the air more then anyone here likely wanted to admit. But most people seemed to agree, at least mostly. We didn’t have much of another choice.
Without any further fanfare or speech, we began our advance up the hill. Just a little but further, I told myself. Then I might have a shot at finally getting out of here.
Then, all in the same instant, all of my possible dwindling hope vanished. The last embers of optimism robbed. As many things began to happen at once.
Firstly, visual, from the top of the hill, I saw multiple flares arc into the sky, I recognized them as warning signs.
Next, I could smell it. The smell of something pungent, almost like chlorine. Ozone.
Finally, I heard it. A roar of an aircraft, a crackling of electricity, then a massive boom.
I was knocked off my feet, tumbling down to the ground. I managed to catch myself, and turn, reaching for my weapon in a motion that would be all too slow.
Cassia was gone. A charred body tumbling down the hill. Last was injured, but had reformed. Rask had hit the ground, not dead, but close. Blackwell had hit the ground with him. Saul turned around, pistol drawn before me, discharging a round or two. Long grooves were carved into the ground, to our sides, the lightning seemingly having traveled up
I looked up. The source.
Across the skyline, I could see incoming Legion aircraft, black hulls starting to descend around the area. They’d be here within minutes, but that wasn’t what was important. Importantly, were two people who floated in front of us. Twenty feet off the ground, both in Legion armor. One of them with a blue cross symbol on their chestplate, with their hands crackling with lightning, the other with a red sphere symbol, and no lightning. But they could both fly, with no visible booster or anything, which meant one final horrifying thought passed through my head.
Proteans.
I couldn’t even get my weapon out before the other one acted. Waving a hand, a dozen red and white translucent spheres appeared in our midst, glowing brightly before detonating.
I lost my footing completely. Hitting the ground, slamming onto my side, before lulling over onto my back by no part of my own. My head was still craned to the side.
Everything hurt, so much so that it rolled back over into being nothing at all-I couldn’t tell what had been hit, if anything, but I most certainly couldn’t move. I couldn’t really process anything, my senses were scrambled. It took me a second to even really be able to see, given circumstance, but when I could, I realized I was accidently making eye contact with Blackwell. He’d fallen to the ground nearby, and I could see the extent of his injuries. His lower half was a mess of flesh, bone, and rock. But he was still conscious, his eyes were open, and making contact with mine.
He was saying something. Or mouthing. I couldn’t hear anything over the ringing, and my vision wasn’t quite good enough at the moment to make out anything. A sudden stream of blood blocked vision in one of my eyes. That probably wasn’t good.
Blackwell had stopped mouthing. He’d gone almost completely still. I was thankfully spared from staring at what was presumably a corpse, by a bright flash about me, in what remained of my peripheral vision. I managed to put just enough effort in to crane my head upwards, expecting to be greeted with death or something similar.
Instead I was greeted with what seemed to be the sky coming apart. I was certain it couldn’t be real, a near death hallucination to be certain. But it was still something to behold.
The expanse above me had been cleared of clouds, in my vision. Taking on various black, purple and red colorations. Clashing colors that somehow made me want to smile. Swirling and crackling above in a vortex, in something of a fold in the heavens. From that fold, came even more color, iridescent fragments and shards of the whole which was emerging, cracks between them, but still held together in a form that could almost be considered angelic. An extension of something angelic, maybe. But it only held that form for a moment, before coming apart, dissolving, into a shower of light which rained down across the landscape in an almost willowing formation, a massive arc down to grace the heavens. The sky above had started to shift, the unnatural colors almost collapsing, the fold swirling back into wherever recess it would have supposedly have been born from, intending to just leave it’s one final reminder remaining.
It was a slow descent, across the broken sky, for the pieces of the angel. I delusionally entertained the thought that this was some kind of higher power, here to carry me away from this hell, a Valkyrie to save me from this slow death. But of course, that wasn’t it. Just a light show my own mind was entertaining me with.
The pieces fell closer, closer, further and further down. Soon, many were out of her view, gone onto the hopefully more verdant horizon. That was that, I supposed. One last bit of light in the world, gone. I closed my eyes, and tried to will myself to die faster.
Instead, I was forced to open them again to the vision of bright light above me, I opened my wide eyes to see an iridescent blob of light fall down towards my head, in something that I realized too late was likely very real.
I awoke in an unfamiliar room. Opening my eyes slowly and with great effort, I saw a plain white ceiling and unoffensive green walls at first glance, and when I sat up I was able to see boring obviously fabricated furniture, a bedside table with synthetic flowers (I could tell since they were Terran roses) and a few chairs against a side wall. There was a door off to the right side, but it was closed. To my left was a window, with curtains drawn over it, though sunlight still somewhat shined through to give the room somewhat dim light.
Across from me, though, was a wall mirror. I could see myself in it, and…
I looked awful. My blonde hair, cut short when I was in training, had started to grow back, but the explosions hadn’t done much for it. It laid in a wreck around the back of my head. My face was riddled with tiny scars, including one big one across my chin. A bandage covered the middle of my forehead. My eyes looked fatigued, despite that I’d just woken up.
Below my neck, I was wearing a shitty white gown, no bra, covered down to my knees. I couldn’t see any injuries, and a brief hand down my torso and legs didn’t cause me to feel anything in particular. That was, until I got to my right ankle. I didn’t feel flesh there, instead feeling some sort of smooth…metal?
My hand recoiled, pulling back the covers with it. That was when I noticed something else, on the hand which did so, my left. A few of my fingers looked different. Squinting in the light, I felt a rising panic within my chest, heartbeat speeding up as I saw that my thumb, index, and middle fingers on that hand looked off. The flesh a different color then my own slightly tanned white, with almost a…glint to it. I couldn’t settle on that long, as my gaze whipped to my legs, now exposed with a lack of bedding. Specifically, my right foot, up to about a little above my ankle. It looked normal, for a moment, when I saw a glinting of reflectiveness from it. I was slowly reached my uncompromised hand down to feel it again, when I heard a faint beep, and then a click, the metal door to the room sliding open. I lowered my hand.
In the doorway was a woman in white scrubs, wearing gloves, a surgical mask, and a medical bonnet. She was carrying a large tray in front of her with one hand, tucking some kind of pass card into her pocket with the other. The front of her uniform had the Imperial Eagle embroidered onto it, and one of her eyes seemed to be replaced with some kind of complex cybernetic, with a scope attached with multiple moving components.
She shut the door behind her, then turned around slowly, before proceeding to lurch backwards slightly, nearly sending the contents of the tray (a set of syringes and some sort of unknown device) sprawling to the floor, before she caught herself.
“Oh-you’re awake-no one told me!” She seemed surprised to say the least.
“Yeah.” I said in reply. My voice was hoarse, and I didn’t feel like talking. A bit of abject horror still clinging to my voice.
“Well, welcome back to the land of the living. Won’t be needing this-”
She set the tray down on a tray nearby.
“-How are you feeling?” She said, her mask ceasing like she was smiling. The eye’s mechanism seemed to be zooming in on me. Creepy.
“Awful.” I said. Keeping it simple, as I stared down at my leg. Before following up. “What happened?”
She seemed to pause for a moment before answering, probably choosing her words carefully.
“You were brought in here from the Commonwealth, emergency airlift, about ten days ago. You were in terrible shape, wounds all over you, a lot of burns. You had four surgeries done on you. Imperial medical science is a wonderful thing, but…”
I finally put my gaze on her. Expecting the follow up.
“Some things couldn’t be helped. They opted for cybernetics. I think you noticed them.” She said, looking at my leg, and then my hand…then my head.
“So my foot, my fingers…” I trailed off.
“-And your right ear, yes. They’re top of the line, nerve endings and all. And they can be quite stylish if I do say so myself, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”
My hand shot to my right ear, feeling it up. Sure enough, the same unnatural smooth feeling. I sighed, letting my hands drop. One question had popped into my head though, a point of confusion.
“…This is a lot of effort for a grunt. Why-“
“The Empire doesn’t leave anyone behind, lovely. Not even grunts.”
Well I knew that wasn’t true. But she didn’t seem to, so I didn’t push the point.
“…What now?” I said, after a few long moments of awkward silence.
“Oh, well there’s the good news for you! You’re being discharged from the army. With all appropriate laurels as if you had completed your tour. You’ve been given a Discharge sum as well, on addition to the last of your pay. You’re a free woman, Miss Evergreen.”
That. Got me to shut up for a moment. I made eye contact with myself in the mirror. That was it? I was done?
My thoughts were paused by the nurse perking up “Oh! Right.. Let me get your things.” She said, as she hurried off, using the card to open the door once more.
I looked back to the mirror. Smiling to myself, devolving into a small fit of giddy laughter. That was it. It was over. I was getting out of here.
I had an ear to ear smile when the nurse reentered, with a small bag, which she placed next to the bed. I stood, when she did. Being on my feet gave me a shot of pain, but it soon faded. I stumbled slightly in the process, but caught myself. The nurse helped with that, grabbing my arm. So far, nothing from my foot.
“All of your things from the barracks are in there, along with a change of cloths. Oh-and a communicator chip for the young man who brought you those.”
She pointed to the flowers at my bedside.
“…Who?” I tilted my head slightly, as I picked up the bag, starting to go through it. I found the chip she was talking about. A sleek newer design, but it would be compatible with my projector and holo.
“He was tall, black hair, looked very sad about your condition. He said to give that to you, and to call him when you got a chance. He was very sweet.”
Didn’t match any of my friends. The only guys I knew close enough for this had dyed hair. I frowned.
“Alright. Thanks. So I’m…good to go? I can leave?”
The nurse just smiled-or I assume she did.
“Of course! The doctors said once you were awake you were free to go if you felt up to it, but you’re also welcome to stay if you find the need. Otherwise, if you have any problems, contact your local Imperial base, and they’ll do upkeep and check ups free of charge.”
I just sort of nodded. She moved for the door.
“Wait-” I said, the nurse stopping.”
“-What planet are we on?” I said, sheepishly.
“Capios, lovely.” Is all she said, before turning, the door shutting. I’d found a passcard in my bag.
I looked in the mirror again.
That was that, then. Time to go home.
The next six hours or so were a blur. I changed, and got out of the hospital (trying my best to ignore the active soliders stationed around the building, uniforms all too familiar), stopping to give the front desk woman my name to double check everything was in order (it was), I then caught a transport from the hospital, and headed for the nearest rail station. A large projected map there told me I was on the other side of the Empire from where I was supposed to be. So I bought my fare, and took a rail ride across. Watching the landscape blur by, I mostly just stared out the window, or at my hand with the false fingers on it. I felt fatigued, so I didn’t do much otherwise, besides check the news about the war on my holo.
According to cheerful Imperial newscasters on the net, the war had been put into stalemate, despite the noble sacrifices of the Empire’s people, with pushbacks across the central regions of the debaucherous Commonwealth. However, thanks to the bravery of Incarnum, and the three top Imperial bomber squadrons, Hydra, Wyvern and Manticore, the north and south remained contested. According to the Seneshal, the war would soon be theres.
According to news from anyone else, the war was not going well for the Empire. The south was still compromised, even if the north had been scoured by Incarnum. The only trump card they had left was their golden boy, but he hadn’t been seen in days, which meant it would probably only be a few more weeks before the Empire was pushed back nearly out of the country.
I turned off the holo after that. No mention of the battle I’d been apart of, outside of the tragic death of Tribune Magnus and many of his number.
I didn’t really care how the war turned out anyways. I’d honestly prefer more people standing up to our dick of a Seneshal.
The rest of the rail ride passed uneventfully. I arrived at Concordia station, the skyline of my home city bringing me very little joy, despite what I’d hoped it would elicit in me. The sky was lit up at night with various airboards, signs, projectors, and the general upper city as a whole. For a city that bordered the Alliance, it was undamaged by the Empire’s warring tendancies, and was truthfully only apart of it in land claim only.
From the station, I caught a hover over to that building. Nothing had changed about the exterior, and as I walked up the steps, bag over my shoulder, I could point out all the small nicks and dings in the metal sides that I’d seen growing up.
Eventually, I reached the door, keypad in front of me. I pondered the code, long and hard, before pushing it in. 1115. Our parents anniversary. The lock flashed green, and the door opened.
A few minutes later, after setting my bag down on a far nicer couch then I’d remembered having, I headed for the kitchen, opening the refrigerator which hadn’t changed. I was rummaging through, looking for something, anything to sate the hunger I felt, when I heard something impact the ground behind me.
I turned, now face to face with my sister, Chantelle. Wearing a stupid looking dress, smudged makeup, and mussed hair.
“-Kaitalane, is that you?”
She said, into the dark room. My blood boiled, hearing her voice, my anger and vitriol about to explode outwards, I opened my mouth to speak, and-
I promptly puked out a collection of lasers onto the kitchen tile.
Kindling And Miscellany 