《Short Stories by Me》 ...and the stars grew darker... Centauri Central News Report - 20/7/2847 ¡ªGood Morning, Centauri Prime. I¡¯m Alice Elkin of Centauri Central News and this is your quick update on Settled Heavens Politics. Tensions continue to rise between the United Terran Republic and the Aberdonian Federation as multiple UTR starships have been seen flying in orbit of the planets Rama and Daethrass. The UTR says that such ships don¡¯t exist within the Epsilon Indi Star System, and the Aberdonian Federation is attempting to incite an unnecessary conflict between the two nations. The UTR has openly said that it will defend itself and its allies if the Aberdonian Federation ever attempts to undermine them again. Both countries have had hostility between each other since the Terran-Aberdonian War where, after the economic and infrastructural disaster of the Interstellar Collapse, the UTR used draconian measures to ensure the planet Aberdon, the capital of the Federation, would not leave the Union. This resulted in a war between Earth and Aberdon that cost millions of lives, ending with Aberdonian victory. But with tensions rising once again, experts place a border war between the two nations in the next year as an extreme likelihood. In more positive news, another breakthrough in technology has occurred for space travel as the interstellar corporation Alpha Star Industries has announced the creation of Void Technology. Although details have been sparse, the interstellar giant promises to be space travel''s future. That¡¯s all we have for now, coming up in the next hour, the installation of Corporate AI into the brain might just be the next big thing to help you in your daily life, all here on Centauri Central News.
July 20th, 2847 200 years after the Interstellar Collapse Sol Star System Outside Neptune¡¯s orbit
The ship moved like an inchworm as it slowly coasted through the security gate. Several robotic drones scanned with x-ray vision looking for illegal contraband. Alpha Star Industries really spares no expense, thought West Taalmore. Behind him were Evelyn Tess, James Rufus, and Q. Evelyn was a cyberhack, said to be among the best in the business at breaking into servers and stealing encrypted data, while James was a hired assassin and an expert in guns, lying, and quiet deaths. Q on the other hand was just a basic military robot but could do all manner of tasks for West if he commanded it. The light outside turned red and a loud beep could be heard. The security drones outside then moved to the reinforced plexiglass and shined red dots on everyone¡¯s heads, guns armed at the ready. The intercom speaker on the pilot seat then crackled to life as a middle-aged man¡¯s voice burst through it. ¡°Stop right there. Vulcan Starship #66092411, care to explain the large number of munitions, automatic weapons, and a military android stored in the back of your vehicle? Refusal to do so will result in immediate arrest and/or termination.¡± West took the communication speaker. ¡°Apologies sir, my superior failed to mention our arrival. We¡¯re arms dealers on behalf of the SaturnTech Corporation heading towards Centauri Prime. Our validation code is XK-92541. I repeat the validation code is XK-92541.¡± Evelyn immediately went to work on rerouting the security system to a network she had set up in the last five minutes to provide the Alpha Star security a false-positive and allow them entrance. And just like that, her magic touch worked and they were allowed access to the Light Gate. West turned to the others behind him as they sat there with at least 500 other spaceships. Evelyn was carelessly leaning back in a chair, Q was deactivated, and James was sitting still as a corpse. ¡°Alright, does everyone understand what we¡¯re doing?¡± he said. ¡°Yeah,¡± said Evelyn. James simply let out a small grunt of confirmation before speaking in a gruff voice. ¡°Remember, don¡¯t say anything while we¡¯re in line. They can hear us.¡± It was true, it was best not to say or do anything that might infer a plan of hostility against the corp. Who knows how many tiny microphones were tracking even the smallest of sounds? It didn¡¯t matter if they were in space or not, sound was nothing more than vibrations within the atoms and could be picked up effortlessly by anyone with sufficient technology. Finally, the Light Gate began to spin. Hundreds of curved arch-like pieces of metal, some big others tiny, began to spin around and around all the different starships. Blue electricity formed from their sides as West could see space begin to distort and see the twinkling stars begin to grow longer into straight lines. Then, all the ships within that metal cylinder of blue jumped forward across four light years in space and arrived at Alpha Centauri, a binary star system with only a single planet to its name. A planet that was the beating heart of all corporations: Hecate.
When they landed on the nightside of Hecate, they were met with a sight very few on Earth ever saw. Great towering monoliths of steel, glass, and concrete; Titanic orbital stations hovering just above the cloud line. Streets of smooth, solid concrete and asphalt with almost golden street signs and cars made of exquisite, smooth metal speed down the highway like lightning. But what caught West¡¯s attention the most were the neon advertisements. Everywhere he looked, there was the flashing of light, the sounds of pop music, and the displaying of products. One skyscraper even had the entirety of one of its sides covered in a soda ad. Everything everywhere was an advertisement, to the point where it felt almost overwhelming to West. Evelyn didn¡¯t seem to like it either as she huddled her arms tight around herself as if it would provide some kind of protection against the oppressive screens. James meanwhile seemed unphased by it all, although the air around him held a kind of tension that West couldn¡¯t describe. One could be forgiven if they thought the entire planet was as fancy as this, but no, Hecate was not a ¡°fancy¡± place, just this particular sector. Everywhere else was a crime-infested hellhole wrapped in 5 more crime-infested hellholes. Any crime one could think of and the poorer sectors of Hecate will have beaten them to the punch. The entire planet was covered in a city, making almost every nook and cranny a den where gangs could commit any number of heinous crimes, sometimes for profit, sometimes just for fun. They carried small but heavy metal boxes of bullets and guns, one of which was slightly heavier than the rest. Q carried most of the crates, while West took the lead toward Nova Corpus Plaza, Evelyn stayed behind in the ship, and James followed West and Q inside. They had all gotten dressed for the occasion too, wearing the simple black and white suits SaturnTech provided its investors. The inside of Nova Corpus Plaza was a beautiful sight indeed. The smoothness of everything, from the floors and walls to the blue and green plants, was everywhere. The main lobby was like a great cathedral to the monochrome black and red that signified corporate power, with a titanic square atrium that reached up and hollowed out the building with beaming, golden rays of light. West was only mildly impressed by the display, knowing full well that it was more a show of force than to look beautiful. All around them were the comings and goings of businessmen and women sipping champagne and eating exquisite foods, the humming of automatic drones, and the laughter of men who never seemed satisfied with the power they had. West and James kept to themselves for the most part. Once and a while they had to play up an act to some already drunk fool. ¡°Did-*burp*-ah, you hear the news? There was a terrorist attack down on-*hick*-the¡­Ganymede at uh, at uh, *burp*, at the Jovian Congressional House. You, hahaha, you what that means? More security for us, hahaha!¡± said a man with golden metal fingers, practically drooling white wine. ¡°With weapon stocks rising, I plan to put an investment down with VulcanCorp to have 4500 Hades Tanks down on Daethrass and Rama by the afternoon. It will be great what with tensions rising between the Federation and the United Terran Republic, and I implore you to do the same.¡± said a woman in strict, almost military garb. ¡°I have a meeting this afternoon with some arms dealers to give some poor schmucks down on Proxima an upper hand against some revolutionaries. It will be a good source of PR once we¡¯re done cleaning them up. Let¡¯s just say they¡¯re terrorists and go from there, yeah?¡± said a man with a mechanical arm. West really didn¡¯t like hearing what they were saying, treating the world like a game of chess rather than seeing the real people living in it. It reminded him a lot of when he was just a boy on Earth. It reminded him more of his father and how he had died. Nameless. Forgotten. Just another victim in another war. Meaningless. An announcement speaker cracked to life. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, please enter the Grand Amphitheater for the big event!¡± West turned to James and Q. ¡°I¡¯ll go inside, you two find a way downstairs.¡± Both nodded, with Q carrying the crate that was heavier than the other in his metallic hands. West followed the crowd inside a closed amphitheater with hundreds of rows of seats surrounding an oval space at the bottom, a bright beacon of light shining down upon whoever was presenting. West took his seat and remotely called Evelyn using his commlink with his cybernetic implants. ¡°Evelyn, we good?¡± he asked without speaking. ¡°Yeah, security should have no idea who we are. Rufus and Q are heading directly below the amphitheater. They''re ready on your call.¡± ¡°And the data, you digging it?¡± ¡°Almost there. Should take a couple of minutes or less.¡± ¡°Good.¡± The oval bottom of the amphitheater opened up and West hopped off the call. The crowd clapped and whistled for the man that rose from below. Morrison Albright, CEO of Alpha Star Industries. He was a simple-looking man, with a white-collar shirt and black tie, tight khaki pants and leather belt, and plain black dress shoes. His hair was white and gray with a smooth bald head and he smiled warmly. ¡°Greetings, one and all, to a pinnacle moment in history,¡± he said. ¡°Today, I show you all the future of interstellar travel. A little gizmo we like to call Void Tech!¡± A small pedestal was erected up behind Albright from the smooth marble ground. On it, a small white cloth covered a cube-shaped object. Albright raised his hand and grabbed the white cloth to reveal the wondrous technology. Except there was no wonderous technology, but instead, an armed bomb placed by James Rufus, with a special note saying: ¡®Told you we¡¯d meet again¡ªsigned Caleb Whesker.¡¯ BOOM!
May 4th, 2815 21 years ago Sol Star System Earth, City of Sacramento, North American Union Zone
When West Taalmore was an 11-year-old boy, he saw things no boy his age should ever have seen. Old friends falling into addiction and slowly poison themselves. Family members getting caught in the crossfire of street warfare. Poor veterans with too much cyberware augmentation losing their minds to cyberpsychosis and going on bloodied rampages, only to be put down by an uncaring police force. But what West probably should never have seen were the stars. The smog-choked sky of Earth should never have revealed them. But today, the clouds had parted ways, the city no longer produced light because of a blackout, and the wind had blown away all the dirt and dust in the air to reveal a couple hundred twinkling lights in the night. Luna, Earth¡¯s only moon, still stood at the forefront of it all, reflecting the light of the sun down upon West¡¯s face as he basked in a sight very few ever got to see. If he squinted, he was pretty sure he could see the city lights from the megalopolises of Tycho, Copernicus, Artemis, Chang¡¯e, and Zvezda. ¡°You know, back then you could see every star clear as crystal,¡± said the Old Crone. ¡°I know. You told me it was like before,¡± said West. ¡°Before what?¡± said the woman. ¡°Before the Interstellar Collapse, when the United Terran Republic wasn¡¯t divided and humanity was actually happy for once.¡± ¡°Good,¡± said the Old Crone. ¡°Remember that, ¡®cause not a lot of people do.¡± Just as she said that, the neon lights and loud advertisements of the city came back to life and the distant glow of the stars quickly dissipated. The only lights in the sky remaining were the eternally present pale Luna and the holographic banner towers that showed still images of ads as they gently drifted into the darkness above. ¡°What was it like before? Before the megacorporations ruled the stars?¡± asked the young West. ¡°Well, life was certainly better than it is now,¡± said the Old Crone. ¡°People could live up to 500 years, space travel wasn¡¯t limited to the rich, Earth was greener than green, Aberdon wasn¡¯t a fascist state, technology propelled us to the stars, and morality was a guaranteed truth. But I guess that wasn¡¯t enough for the power-hungry and narcissistic. Besides, who would ever want to listen to the humble ramblings of a woman who has seen it all when you could control peoples¡¯ lives and make the best outcome for yourself,¡± she spat with vitriol. West turned his head to the frail woman. She was dressed like any grandma would, with a wooden walking stick in her hand and a simple cotton dress. West still couldn¡¯t believe that she was over 300 years old or that she was once a government official for the UTR. He turned back to the night sky. The stars were all gone, and only a pale glow barely piercing the dirty clouds from the moon up above remained.
BOOM! Evelyn Tess was digging through a mountain of internal data from the starship. Not a detail was spared from being collected and stored on an external drive. Financial logs, interview logs, investment discussions, stockholder sessions, weapon designs, starship designs, light gate designs, everything was up for grabs. She cracked through some of the toughest code she¡¯d ever seen but eventually came across a rather interesting file. Opening it up, her eyes widened in horror. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It contained the schematics for a weapon. The most powerful weapon ever developed. A starship, larger than any ship built before it, with a weapon capable of burning an entire planet¡¯s atmosphere away. The more she read, the worse it got. Once fired upon a planet, special radioactive energy would then ¡°infect¡± an atmosphere and ignite, literally burning the sky as all life on the surface of that world screamed in agony. Evelyn read and read. They called this starship the Hyperion and its construction has the approval of Alpha Star Industries, SaturnTech International, Damian & Roe Inc., the S.C. Bio-Dyne Corporation, Barnard''s Star Banking, and most disturbing of all, the approval of the Aberdonian Grand Military. Once construction ended, they would send the ship into Aberdonian Controlled Space and fire it upon the planet Havion, a world containing 6 billion lives. They would then pin the planetary genocide on the United Terran Republic and go to war with Earth. The Aberdonian Federation hiring corporations to kill its own citizens on its behalf, then blaming Earth to start a war, Evelyn thought. Damn fascists! No line they won¡¯t cross and defile! Evelyn thought about it some more and came to a terrible realization. This will just be the spark. This will be bound to get the other nations involved! The entire Settled Heavens will be at war. The UTR, the Aberdonian Federation, the Corporate Systems Alliance, the Union of Independent Socialist Systems, the Sovereignty¨Cthey¡¯ll all be wanting to kill each other over this. When this war breaks out, companies like Alpha Star Industries and VulcanCorp will make more money than imaginable by selling weapons and ships. Shit, I have to get to the right hands! Evelyn went to copy all the data down when suddenly¡­pain. Evelyn''s head began to throb with excruciating pain. All the cybernetic implants in her body began to hurt and it felt like her bones were being ground against each other. Her ocular implants were glitching out and causing a seizure of colors, her metallic arm was turning erratically, and her brain felt like it was being fried. Soon, the woman that was Evelyn Tess was no more and had been transformed into a blabbering mess to be thrown on the streets to suffer the long-term effects of cyberpsychosis.
BOOM! James Rufus was not his name. His real name was Caleb Wesker, and this was not his body. Caleb used to work for Alpha Star Industries as a personal bodyguard for Morrison Albright until a deadly and disastrous attack on Pluto caused by insurgent cells of both VulcanCorp and the United Terran Republic resulted in his near death. But because Alpha Star isn¡¯t wasteful, he was selected for experimentive cognitive transfer into another person''s body. Ever since then, his life has been a living hell. He left the company, stole a military android, and split his consciousness with it, naming it Q. He kept that secret safe from the others around him. After all, he wasn¡¯t here for money, or West and Evelyn, or to stop the corporate regime, as that was never going to change. Instead, he was here for himself and to settle a score set long ago. Just because that bomb had destroyed Morrison¡¯s body didn¡¯t mean he was dead. A man like him wouldn¡¯t be content with simply dying and letting go of all that political power. It had been more than enough time for that cognitive transfer tech to be perfected and for Morrison to use it on himself in case of his death. That way, he¡¯ll be able to transfer his mind into a new body and pretend to be someone new in charge, but it¡¯ll just be him. Always him. Caleb moved underground with the Q part of him stomping behind. The robot was holding in its hands a black, perfectly square cube. This was the future of interstellar travel, right here, in the palm of his cold hands. It was apparently made using quantum mechanics, something about changing the elemental structure of a quark to create a kind of wormhole across spacetime. He didn¡¯t have time to think about that right now, he had places to be. Nova Plaza was owned and operated by Alpha Star, and as such, it more than likely had a secret monorail station underneath its bouls. Caleb remotely called West with his forced cybernetic implants. ¡°West, you good? You read me?¡± The screams of panic were on the other end but a voice silenced them out. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good. You got the device?¡± ¡°Yeah, I do. Head downstairs to where I am, we¡¯ve got a place to be.¡± ¡°What? What do you mean by-¡± ¡°I said head downstairs to where I am!¡± he yelled. West¡¯s voice stopped and the blaring of alarms filled the building. ¡°Call Evelyn,¡± Caleb said. West grumbled but acquiesced. ¡°Evelyn, do you read me?¡± No response. ¡°Evelyn? Evelyn, are you there?¡± A voice, distorted and disquietingly smooth, spoke. ¡°Evelyn is not here right now. She¡¯s off in a different place of mind,¡± said the Corporate-made Artificial Intelligence. Caleb then quickly turned off the commlink and severed his connection with West. He then bolted straight for the monorail station, without ever looking back.
West Taalmore was pinned between a rock and a hard place. It seemed that Evelyn had been made and her code system figured out. Meaning that everyone knew who he was. Which also meant that everyone''s gun was pointed at him. As bullets chased through the halls, West ran towards James, following a trail of used bullet shells and dead bodies into a concrete tunnel. West found James and Q at a black and red monorail station. Q was climbing a massive mech that had gun barrels half his size while James was struggling with an Alpha Star security agent. West grabbed a gun off the floor and shot into the back of the security agent. The bullets did nothing to kill him, but they did stun him, giving James enough time to cut his throat with a knife. Meanwhile, Q ripped out the mech''s small fusion core like it was beating heart. James had multiple bullet wounds on his body; his once fine suit was now stained with dark crimson blood. Thankfully, none seemed to be mortal. James was panting heavily and Q went to support him with his steel arms. James took his help and looked to West. ¡°What happened to Evelyn?¡± he asked in a raspy voice. West answered honestly. ¡°She got made by a corporate AI. Our covers¡¯ blown,¡± West reloaded the acquired gun. ¡°Let¡¯s get the hell out of here,¡± he said, walking past James and into the monorail. ¡°No,¡± said James. West turned around. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I said no.¡± West¡¯s face turned into that of confusion. ¡°What do you mean ¡®no¡¯? We¡¯ve got the tech, we got the data, our cover is blown, and we¡¯ve got Alpha Star angry, let¡¯s bail!¡± Q raised his left arm to West. From it, the large barrel of a gun emerged. West was filled with shock. ¡°Whoa, Q¡­what are you doing?¡± West signaled for Q to drop the gun from his cybernetic implants, yet nothing happened. ¡°He¡¯s not connected to you. He never was.¡± West looked to James. ¡°James¡­what are you doing?¡± ¡°Sorry kid,¡± said James. ¡°Nothing personal. It¡¯s just¡­you¡¯re playing a game too big for you to comprehend.¡± The next thing that happened was the sound of a gunshot. And just like that, West Taalmore, for all his worth, was dead. He was a pawn in a game of chess with two players. A game that was about to end.
The black monorail zoomed like a bullet. Its dark chrome skin was tearing at the air like paper. On the inside, however, it was perfectly calm. Caleb Wesker rested down on a seat, supported by the robot that shared his consciousness. Q wasn¡¯t a sentient being and it wasn¡¯t even capable of speech, but it was intelligent and it shared about half his brain in a digital form. Caleb was capable of seeing the world as Q saw it, just as Q was able to see the world as he did. That meant when Caleb felt an emotion, Q would represent that same emotion. Which would explain the melancholy air that filled the air of the train. Q was standing still at the conductor terminal, its metal hands still wrapped around the cube-shaped Void Tech. Caleb could see through Q¡¯s ocular lens which acted like eyes and looked at the cube. So much trouble, all for something so small, he thought. An odd pain of nostalgia then hit Caleb and he began to reminisce about the moments in his life that led up to this. Walking to that dump of a school, being picked up by an Alpha Star Child Soldier selection group, training under Sir Dolan, becoming one of Morrison Albright¡¯s personal security, being blown to near pieces on Pluto, unwillingly transferring his consciousness into another body, walking down the rotting streets of Earth, passing above fascist Aberdon in a commercial starship, and agreeing to West Taalmore¡¯s plan for stealing corporate tech. The monorail stopped and its doors opened. Caleb half expected what lay beyond to be nothing but armed soldiers. Instead, there was only a black hallway lit by red and white lights. At the end of the hallway was an open elevator waiting for him. Caleb used the Q half of himself for support as he limped out of the train. They approached the elevator and Caleb noticed that the interface that normally showed the floor level had instead text. It read, ¡®I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Caleb.¡¯ They descended to the deepest floor possible. The doors opened. Caleb and Q limped out into a great chamber of black walls, blue and red light, and whirring machinery. Sitting in the middle of the room was a man at a desk. He had a round body, white hair, a full beard, and the finest suit ever made. Morrison Albright, the CEO of Alpha Star, wasn¡¯t quite dead yet. Both Caleb and Q raised their guns and fired multiple bolts directly at his head. None hit him, but all made contact with something else. Something large, like a man but of ungodly size and made entirely of metal, had zoomed into place to intercept the bullets. Morrison, now in his new body, got up from the chair and began to speak. ¡°You know, I don¡¯t why you¡¯re complaining Caleb. This new body isn¡¯t painful at all.¡± Caleb growled. ¡°It¡¯s not that it hurts on the outside, idiot. It¡¯s what screams at you on the inside that hurts. I¡¯m in a body that does not belong to me, and every second of every day I¡¯m reminded by my very soul that this is wrong. I don¡¯t belong in this body or this world!¡± Morrison chuckled. ¡°Ho ho ho, ¡®don¡¯t belong in this world.¡¯ Tell me, why do not belong in this world? This is simply the way things are. There¡¯s the High, the Middle, and the Low. The High are to rule over both the Middle and the Low, the Middle is to overthrow the old ruling class and become the new High, and the Low are simply born that way, forever to be downtrodden by the Middle and the High. I saved you from that purgatory, Caleb, you should be thanking me.¡± Caleb yelled out. ¡°No! No, I don¡¯t! I don¡¯t even remember my mother¡¯s face because of you! You took my life away from me and made it your plaything!¡± Morrison scold. ¡°I am merely playing my part in all this, Caleb. I am the High and you are the Low. It is my purpose to use you however I want. You should have realized this a long time ago.¡± The large metal man that blocked the bullets from before stood up. Its eyes then lit up in a deep scarlet and lasered onto Caleb and Q. ¡°However,¡± Morrison spoke. ¡°I will make you an exception if you can kill me again. First, however, you¡¯ll have to go through an old friend.¡± The lights in the room brightened and showed the surface of the metal man. He was nothing but pure steel, gears, and guns. His entire body was covered in cyberware, from his head to his feet. The only thing that vaguely resembled an organic human being was the left side of his face, showing pale skin covered in scars with a mechanical eye that shined a brilliant red. Caleb¡¯s face dropped in horror, as it was a face he recognized. ¡°William?¡± William Areson had been an old friend of Caleb. They trained together under the tutelage of Sir Dolan, fought side by side during battles for Morrison, and even died together on Pluto. It seemed, however, that¨Cjust like Caleb¨CWilliam was also brought back from the dead. But unlike Caleb, there was no humanity left under that cold gaze. ¡°Long time, no see, Cal. How¡¯s sharing that machine¡¯s body feel?¡± he said in an automated, electronic voice devoid of joy. ¡°William, what happened to you?¡± ¡°Same reason as you. Brought back for the company¡¯s sake, not my own.¡± Caleb sighed, discontent with what was happening. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, raising his rifle and having Q raise his arm canons. ¡°It¡¯s a special kind of hell, isn¡¯t it?¡± Both opened fire. A storm of hot lead sped its way toward William, enough to shred any man who got in the way. William, however, was no longer a man and they simply deflected off him. A massive gun then emerged from William¡¯s back and stood above his shoulder. It fired, releasing a rocket that exploded in orange flame. Caleb and Q jumped in opposite directions to dodge the sudden heat but bits and pieces of shrapnel managed to cut Caleb¡¯s cheek and hand. Caleb gasped in pain, a trickle of blood steadily leaking out of his hand like a facet. Caleb ignored the pain and saw an opening through Q¡¯s vision. William¡¯s face looked to be slightly less armored than the rest of his body and would make a prime target. Q fired several bullets into the left side of William¡¯s head. Many simply deflected off him but some had managed to cut into his skin, though rather shallowly. If William felt pain, he didn¡¯t show it and reached behind him and pulled a massive LMG. Q ran to dodge William but it was too late. It took a single round from the gun to remove Q¡¯s left arm. Caleb¡¯s conscious took action and commanded the robot to throw the Void Cube to him. The robot hurled the cube toward Caleb but in the moment after, William loaded the android full with a stream of bullets. It was then that Caleb¡¯s mind felt like it was being torn apart. It screamed and thrashed and clawed within his half-metal skull. Caleb yelled out in a groaning pain that was gnawing on his brain as the other half of his consciousness was rent apart into a heap of scrap. ¡°I¡¯ll offer you one last chance, Caleb,¡± said Morrison you had a glass of alcohol in hand. ¡°You can be by my side once again. You¡¯ll never have to feel pain ever again and I promise to mend the wounds of the past for you.¡± Caleb¡¯s mind felt like it was shattered and he looked to Morrison. Vile hatred filled his face as he looked at that elitist monster. William stepped forward and offered a hand. Caleb didn¡¯t take it. Instead, he used the last bit of his strength to crush the Void Cube and threw it at William. A blast of purple and black particles spewed forth in a cloud as electric lightning danced across the chamber floor. A loud crack of energy was released and the chamber looked for half a second to be brighter than any star Caleb had seen. When the smoke dissipated, half of William was gone, reduced to a molten slag of metal. A slag of metal that was still operational. A gun appeared from the other half of William and pointed at Caleb. Then a came loud bang and Caleb Wesker was dead. At least he died with a smile on his face.
Morrison and William were on the starship Crantashaar, in a stable orbit around Centauri Prime, now overlooking the stars. Down below, city lights covered each section of the planet, even the oceans weren¡¯t spared of the urban sprawl. Twin suns¨Cone orange, the other yellow¨Cburn themselves across both the planet¡¯s surface and the darkness of space. Officially, Morrison Albright was dead and replaced by a man named Desmond Hyde. But it was just Morrison using a new body under that name. ¡°Well, glad we got that out of the way, wouldn¡¯t ya say?¡± he said. ¡°Sure,¡± said William, now fully repaired from the battle with Caleb Wesker. ¡°By the by, remind me that Void stuff can be used in Project: Hyperion. Oh, and be sure to tell the Applied Fore Department to send the UTR some 25,000 warships too.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± William didn¡¯t like Morrison, not one bit. But he was forced to do his bidding. This is how the world worked after all. He looked out to the stars, those twinkling lights that represented hope to so many. It was strange, it seemed they had grown just a shade darker than before. A Deal Signed in Blood Year 7684 CE Duljaaros Star System Planet Relorum Border of Solarian Federation Space
Damian Galvin held back an expression of winced discomfort as the cargo door opened. In one quick moment, the temperature had increased from a cool 18 degrees Celsius to a heavy 30, according to his cybernetics. That¡¯s what we get for doing business on Relorum during summer, Damian thought. Relorum was a backwater of a planet. A half-barren desert, half-somewhat inhabitable world on the border of the Solarian Federation and Republic of Al¡¯ Cathion spaces. Although it was technically an independent planet, it was so reliant on trade imports from the Federation, that it was subservient to it. The government here colored itself as a democracy, but really it was as corrupt as a planet could get. Which made Damian¡¯s job a lot easier, a hell of a lot easier in fact. Once he was done here, Alice, that damned sadist, would simply buy off the local police to look the other way and he¡¯d be clean. No more debt to pay off, he thought. The scene before him as the large metal door slowly touched the red dirt was a scene he¡¯d been dreading since he was assigned this job. Before him stood two men in faded suits, one smoking a stick of Venusroot. Alice told him that could be only one person: Fredrick Renier, the older brother to Solomon Renier and one of the head bosses of the Tymirium Syndicate. ¡°Greetings, Mister Renier!¡± said Salve the android without Damian¡¯s permission. ¡°Must you say that every time we do business with someone?¡± said Trytor the alien Brek, also without Damian¡¯s permission. He shot them both dirty glances. ¡°Of course, it is within my pro-¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± Damian interrupted Salve, ¡°You¡¯re embarrassing yourselves.¡± Frederick Renier dropped his smoking Venusroot, smothering it in red dirt, as he began to walk towards the group. He gave a condescending look at every one of them but seemed to focus on the spider-like alien that was Trytor. A look of mild disgust held on his face. He focused again on Damian and pulled a Holophone. ¡°You are¡­Damian Galvin?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me. This is Trytor, our resident gun expert, and our android assistant Salve.¡± Salve raised his hand to shake. ¡°Greetings!¡± Frederick looked at the android''s hand and begrudgingly shook it. ¡°Yeah¡­you too. Am I to assume you know who I am?¡± ¡°You¡¯re Frederick Renier, older brother of Solomon Renier and one of Syndicate¡¯s main bosses.¡± ¡°Yep and this,¡± he put a hand on the shoulder of the other man, ¡°Is my nephew Michael.¡± ¡°Greetings!¡± said Salve, again. Michael did not respond. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve got stuff to do.¡± Frederick said, ¡°Follow me.¡± Damian and company did as they were told, following Fredrick in an expensive-looking Hovercar. Inside, they took their seats and Frederick took out an orange file. Inside were the images of a bank, a large stack of gold credits, and a woman in a Solarian Federation uniform. Damian took the file contents and showed them to the others. ¡°Is this the job?¡± Michael answered. ¡°Yes, and the woman is someone we need to take out.¡± ¡°Why?¡± asked Trytor. ¡°Because she works for the Solarian Federation, idiot. Can¡¯t you see her uniform?¡± retorted Frederick. Trytor held back an alien growl. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Michael sighed. ¡°She knows too much about the Syndicate¡¯s operations here on Relorum. We need you to silence her before she presents her case to the rest of the Federation and takes over the system.¡± Salve raised a metallic hand. ¡°Inquiry: why does the Solarian Federation want Relorum?¡± ¡°Politics,¡± Frederick answered, ¡°They want to use the planet''s Mars-like resources to build a megastructure as a gift to the Republic. A kind of peace treaty if you will.¡± ¡°What kind of megastructure?¡± asked Salve. Michael was quick to answer. ¡°A topopolis. Think of it like a massive looped O¡¯Neil cylinder that encircles a star.¡± ¡°And the bank and credits? What''s that all about?¡± asked Trytor. ¡°The officer has been keeping track of our movements and people. She''s one of the best at doing so from what I¡¯ve heard. She knows all about her heists and capers ahead of time.¡± Does that mean she knows of me? Does she know of Alice¡­and Sophia?! If that is true¡­then. ¡°What she doesn¡¯t know is that we¡¯re aware of her. That¡¯s what the bank is for, it''s a distraction. A way to keep her occupied while you move in to intercept.¡± Damian thought about the task at hand and the morality of it. Here he was at the tail end of the galaxy, helping criminal overlords maintain their power by killing someone who, in all likelihood, was simply doing their job. He thought about the Kill Chip monitoring his actions. He thought about who it was connected to. It will all be worth it in the end, he lied to himself, it will all be worth it. The Hovercar flew on.
Damian¡¯s room was¡­okay. The room smelled of piss, it barely had any lighting, and what looked like a rough approximation of a bed was laying in the corner but he had lived in worse. He looked to his right hand, the clear marks of cyber augmentation present across his wrist. A small hatch opened on his thumbs base and small black particles began to fly out in a swarm. They quickly formulated each other into a solid black cube hovering an inch from his palm. A Void Cube. Void Tech was a highly advanced technology at the subatomic level that helped humanity greatly on the galactic stage, allowing them to create Wormholes to different parts of the universe. A far safer and more efficient mode of travel compared to going Faster-Than-Light. While mainly intended for traveling the Milky Way, some might get their hands on less powerful Void Cubes and reuse them for more everyday tasks. Like killing people in Damian¡¯s case. With a small twist of his hand, the cube transformed into a black revolver-like weapon. It didn¡¯t actually need bullets to fire, only condensed energy that it absorbed. At its lowest power, it was like throwing a small pebble but at its highest, it could vaporize half a man''s body into vapor. Damian looked over the gun and thought about all the people he had killed with it. Then he thought about all the people he wanted to kill with it. Alice, Frederick, Solomon, Fal¡¯ Grae, E¡¯ Tariss, Daevon. They¡¯ll all get what''s coming to them, but just play it cool for now. Play it cool. Damian sighed deeply, put the Void Cube away, and tucked himself into bed. His door opened. Damn it. It was Trytor, the spider-looking alien called a Brek. ¡°Hey, Damian? Can we talk?¡± Damian refused to open his eyes. ¡°What?¡± Trytor closed the door behind him and crawled to Damians ¡®bed.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about our job tomorrow. About having to wack that Federation officer?¡± ¡°So, what about it?¡± ¡°Won¡¯t killing her cause more trouble than it¡¯s worth? This is the Federation we¡¯re talking about here. The single most powerful government in the galaxy with only the Falmir Imperial Union to rival them.¡± Damian just wanted to sleep. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Once she¡¯s gone, I¡¯m gone. I¡¯m done working for these rotten people after this.¡± Trytor paused for a second. ¡°You know Alice isn¡¯t going to let you go that easy, right?¡± Fear and rage filled Damian¡¯s heart at hearing that. ¡°I have to hope she makes good on our-¡± ¡°She won¡¯t,¡± Trytor interrupted, ¡°She¡¯ll never.¡± Damian stayed quiet after that. He thought only of Sophia¡¯s safety at that moment. About how scared his little sister was. ¡°I-I have to hope¡­she makes good on her promise.¡± Trytor spoke up again. ¡°You¡¯ve got a Kill Chip, don¡¯t ya?¡± Damian didn¡¯t respond. ¡°F¡ª,¡± Trytor hissed, ¡°Look, I¡¯ll see if I can go put a good word in for you with one of the bosses. See if that helps at all. Sound good?¡± Damian remained silent. ¡°I¡¯ll take your silence as a yes.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± said Damian, ¡°See if it works. I doubt it.¡± Trytor stayed a while longer before leaving. Despite his presence, Damian had never felt so alone before. Was his sister even alive or was she nothing more than bait that Alice used to her advantage? Damian calmed himself once more and tried to fall asleep. It was difficult, hard even, to even get a wink of sleep. Soon enough, he succeeded, though his dreams were perhaps worse. He dreamt of pushing Sophia when they were kids on the swings. He dreamt of his father taking care of them both. He dreamt of Alice telling them how he really died, her gun trained on Sophia¡¯s head. He dreamt of her pulling the trigger on Sophia. He dreamt of his gun pointed at Alice¡¯s own head and pulling the trigger. He dreamt of the sky raining blood. He dreamt of collapsing on his knees. He dreamt of a man holding his gun and pointing at Damian¡¯s chest. He dreamt of a revolution where there was no victory, not for him at least.
The next day, Damian, Trytor, and Salve were across the street from where this officer, Natalia Powers he learned, was hiding out. She was in a semi-dilapidated warehouse with no windows and no markings. Not too suspicious and not too obvious either, the perfect place to hide. Not for long anyway, Damian thought. Salve had finished his scan of the building to look for traces of life. As Salve¡¯s miniature probe was scanning, Damian could only focus on what was to happen after. Was Sophia safe? Is Alice going to make good on her promise? Are we even going to make it out alive? Damian¡¯s head was spinning these questions in head over and over again. Until finally¡­ ¡°Movement detected. Identifying¡­confirmed! Natalia Powers found.¡± Trytor looked over the corner and saw Natalia making her way to a backdoor. ¡°Come on, follow me,¡± he said in hushed tones. After crossing the street, they made their way to a discreet entrance in the back. Before entering, Damian peeked a look inside through the door. What he saw was shocking, to say the least. Is that¡­Alice Fulganrir?! What the¡­? Everything about her looked like the day they met. Her pale skin, pale white hair, pale red suit, everything down to a T. Her skeletal cybernetic right arm was stained with blood that was¡­flowing upwards? ¡°What? What do you see?¡± said Trytor behind him. Damian didn¡¯t hear him, his full focus was on Alice. It was then that she slowly turned her head towards the door, her right robotic eye glowing brighter than any sun could. Her mouth opened and inside Damian saw¡­saw¡­ He raised his Void Gun to shoot that horrid devil and send her straight to the black ditch she crawled out of. Pure rage and hatred coursed through his veins. He could feel his blood turn to magma as blue energy crackled around the barrel of the gun. All he needed was one shoot and it was all- ¡°HEY!¡± Damian snapped back to reality. ¡°What?!¡± Trytor and Salve had been trying to get his attention for the last minute. Salve still showed a look of mechanical coldness. Trytor, however, showed a furrow of slight anger. ¡°The hell is going on with you? Do you see something or not?" Damian looked at Trytor with confusion before looking back through the cracked door. Inside was Natalia Powers, headphones covering her head as she listened intently to NovaCommunications. What¡­was that? Am I losing it? ¡°Well?¡± asked Trytor. ¡°Uh, she just¡­listening to NovaComs, I think.¡± ¡°Good, then we can still take her by surprise.¡± Trytor opened the door slightly, his own Brek-made handgun in his appendages aimed at her head. The three of them moved in slowly and carefully so as to not alert her. Then Damian noticed something. Growling. Something was growling in the warehouse. Damian activated his cybernetic eyes to look around for the source. Didn¡¯t Salve¡¯s probe detect no signs of life outside of Powers? It was then that he saw the alien Vaecholl hiding in the dark. It was like an alien dinosaur with massive armor plating across its body. It had two pairs of long arms, the lower ones ending in five-digit fingers tipped with claws, the higher ones being more like massive Preying Mantis-like scythes that could tear through titanium. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it He could see the mounted bullet guns on its back, perfectly designed to shoot and kill anything that dares stand its way. The massive, powerful tail that ended in a black mace scraped along the ground. He could see its white eyes reflecting light his way, and he could see the Anti-Perception Blocker stationed on the ground next to it. Beep. A signal came from its cybernetic translator on the Vaecholl¡¯s throat and Natalia immediately grabbed a rifle and ducked for cover. The Vaecholl stood up from its position and armed its mounted guns as it stared directly at the group. Fear welled in Damian¡¯s gut. ¡°He told me you¡¯d come for me! I¡¯m warning you, we ain¡¯t going down without a fight!¡± said Natalia. The Vaecholl¡¯s throat emanated a deep and low vibration, to which its translator went to work. ¡°What will it be then little mice? Surrender or die?¡± Those guns were trained onto all three of them. If they made the wrong move or said the wrong word, they would be dead in an instant. They would have to approach carefully if they were to survive. ¡°May I have an inquiry?¡± asked Salve calmly Natalia remained quiet for a second as if considering an answer. ¡°Depends on the question.¡± ¡°How did you know of our actions to terminate you? We were certain you were unaware, so how come you know?¡± ¡°Afraid I can¡¯t answer that Nuts & Bolts.¡± ¡°Why not? ¡°Sorry, just can¡¯t.¡± Natalia stood up from her improvised cover and raised her rifle at Damian and Salve. ¡°You and your little android friend ain¡¯t getting the best of me.¡± ¡®You and your little android friend?¡¯ Does she not know of Trytor? Did he get away? Damian looked for Trytor with his arms raised and body still. At the same time, he was looking for a way to escape the tense situation he was in. All around, he noticed his vision becoming blurry and when he looked at Natalia she again became Alice, only with crimson smoke pouring from her eyes and many hundreds of robotic arms jetting out from her back. ¡°May I ask another question?¡± asked Salve again ¡°Salve, what the hell are you doing?¡± said Damian in concern. ¡°Did you know we have backup?¡± The ceiling burst open in a hail of gunfire. Natalia instinctively ran and hid under the large Vaecholl, who was now firing back at the squadron up top. Damian ducked and hid for some creates. Of course, he thought angrily, of course Alice wouldn¡¯t tell me the whole plan for my last job! Damian summed up enough courage to look at the battlefield. Natalia and Vaecholl were working together against the squad above, Trytor was missing, and Salve was just standing there. Does he have his thumb up his non-existent ass? The Anti-Perception Blocker hummed gently as bullets darted across. That blocker was causing complications within Salve¡¯s programming, and possibly within Damian¡¯s eyes. Damian raised his Void Gun and fired at the blocker, blue electricity coalescing into a ball of hot plasma. On contact, the ball of energy exploded leaving the blocker as only a heap of ruined metal and plastic. That should wake him up. Salve¡¯s head jerked quickly and rapidly, surveying the firefight before him. Upon recognizing the Vaecholl and Natalia Powers, his arms opened up and revealed several arm guns underneath. Natalia stopped firing at the roof squad and focused her attention on Salve. Her eyes widened in horror. ¡°Ah, crap. Dravak!¡± She hit the ankle of the Vaecholl, whose name was apparently Dravak. Dravak glanced down at Salve and stomped down on Salve. Missed. Salve had dodged out of the way and began firing on Dravak with a spray of bullets. Most simply had no effect and very little managed to cut into shallow flesh. Dravak roared and snapped his teeth at Salve, again dodging before he could grab him. Damian got out from cover and began trying to fire at Natalia. Two squad members jumped down from the ceiling, one of them a human, the other a tentacled Bhosleth. They began shooting at Dravak with more precise shots as more and more came down. Damian had noticed a swelling in Dravak¡¯s throat, which could only mean one thing. Natalia noticed too and put a gas mask on her face. Damian ran outside to avoid what was to come. Dravak released a belch of poisonous yellow gas from his throat and upon contact with their lungs, all things that breathed in without protection died. As Damian ran outside, he saw all the squad members drop to the floor like puppets without their strings. All the while Salve was still spraying ineffective bullets at Dravak. Where the hell is Trytor?! Did he ditch us? That little- Damian¡¯s train of thought was cut short by Dravak bursting through the warehouse. He let out an offensive roar toward Damian as he began firing hot plasma from the mounted guns. He just barely had enough time to get out of the way. Natalia was behind him firing inside the warehouse with her rifle. Salve came out and began to dodge and duck with expert precision from Natalia¡¯s rounds. ¡°Enough of this annoyance,¡± said Dravak. Dravak''s tail mace slammed down to crush Salve but missed again. It didn¡¯t miss a second time, however, as a side sweep managed to hit Salve into a nearby car. Salve was now missing a left arm and half his face. Natalia continued to fire into Salve¡¯s mechanical body, although he seemed unphased by it. Salve attempted to stand up but two plasma rounds from Dravak put him back down in the car easily. Natalia was moving slowly towards Salve¡¯s crumbled body, making sure each shot hit its mark. Damian was still on the defensive with Dravak continuing to bombard him with plasma. If he could get out of this situation, he was certain he could shoot her. Damian hid for more easy to defend cover as the plasma began to melt the solid concrete he was behind. It was then he noticed that Trytor was crawling on the side of the warehouse wall, holding a small handgun and a knife, heading straight towards Natalia. Damian yelled, ¡°Trytor! What in the world do you think you''re doing!?¡± ¡°Fixing the problem, asshole!¡± He yelled back. Damian fired four powerful shots at Dravak''s head, two missing and two only doing minor burn marks. Dravak repaid in kind with a barrage of plasma. Both Trytor and Damian hid again for cover, Trytor on the other side of the building, Damian ducking next to a car. Damian could see Alice--no, Natalia¨Chad finished off the already damaged Salve, his chest melting from his now hyperactive fusion core. It was strange, he looked like he was bleeding. Natalia moved Damian¡¯s position. She held a hand in the air. ¡°Dravak, stop!¡± Dravak did as he was told and stopped his advance. Why does that remind me of someone? Natalia raised her rifle to Damian¡¯s face. ¡°Now listen here,¡± she said in between breaths, ¡°You¡­are Damian Galvin, correct?¡± Damian refused to answer. ¡°I have images of you¡­on the board. I know you¡¯re in debt to a monster named Alice Fulganrir¡­and I know she has your sister Sophia.¡± How dare you say her name. ¡°I can help you,¡± said Alice, masquerading as a Federation Officer. Red, red everywhere. ¡°But only if you allow us.¡± I¡¯ll send you to hell before I so much as consider that. Alice, smiling a devilish smile, was holding out a hand to Damian. Alice¡¯s face was all that he could see, not the buildings, not the ground, not the Vaecholl, not anything. Just her and his desire to kill. Alice spoke up again. ¡°Go on, Wretch, make your father proud. Show me what you¡¯ve got. Show me you have what it takes to be a good lapdog and a better wretch.¡± Damian gritted his teeth together. He''d heard those words a thousand times before, but he was finished. He was done being her ¡®wretch¡¯ and ¡®lapdog.¡¯ Alice suddenly looked up, the sounds of gunshots and roaring not far away. Damian didn¡¯t hear them. Instead, he pulled out his Void gun and aimed it at Alice. Alice smiled down the barrel when suddenly a mass jumped down on top of her. It was black and indistinct, with small spindly legs. When Damian blinked, he saw Sophia of all people with a knife in Alice¡¯s back. Alice let out a yelp of pain from the sharp metal. She tried to reach for her with her mechanical arm. Damian hesitated for a moment, attempting to aim away so as not to hurt her. Damian¡¯s vision had gotten blurrier. The differences between Alice and Sophia began to blend together. Maybe if Damian hadn¡¯t been tricked he wouldn¡¯t have done what he did. Blue lightning turned hateful red. A flicker of static across Alice¡¯s face. Max power. BANG! Silence followed Damian afterward. He looked at Alice¡¯s body, her right arm missing and scorched. Then a sharp pain erupted from Damian¡¯s neck in a place he dreaded more than anything. The Kill Chip. Sophia. A small river of blood pooled from Damian¡¯s neck. Trytor was on the ground, half his body turned into a burned paste as blue cooper-blood was sprayed on the ground. Alice, now Natalia, was barely breathing. A screen came to his cybernetic eyes. ¡®Oh no! You''ve been tricked! Now your precious sister is dead!¡¯ Damian was still in shock when he looked around to see a gunship firing down on the Vaecholl. Dravak was severely damaged, hundreds of bullet wounds covered his body and a harpoon had been lodged in his leg. He was firing everything he had at the gunship to little effect. Damian just stared at him. Dravak finally looked at Damian and saw what he had done. Damian could see the rage within him. He roared and began firing plasma rounds at Damian. An instinctual part of Damian led him to run away from the massive Vaecholl, down a back alley he couldn¡¯t follow. When Dravak came to Natalia¡¯s side, he picked her up with his claw hand and fled the scene. Damian noticed at the last second, but Natalia was able to pull some sort of button and pushed it as many times as she could. Damian stood there, blood still trickling down his neck. The gunship made a landing and out came several armed men¡­and Alice. Rage found its way back to him. With the real Alice in view, Damian hastily began asking questions. ¡°Wa-was this all some sort of¡­sick setup?!¡± Alice held a small smile on her face. ¡°Yep. And before you ask, yes, your sister is dead. Her corpse is on the ship with us.¡± Alice snapped her fingers and two of the armed men went to the ship and pulled a lifeless body from inside. They dropped it unceremoniously on the ground and flipped it to its side. It was indeed Sophia, a red burn mark on the side of her head. Damian dropped to his knees and stared at his dead sister. He spoke up, though it was barely even a whisper. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well, the debt that your family owed was pretty much paid for anyway. Plus, me and the Renier brothers have a new investment in something big and I could sense that you¡¯d become a problem, I just couldn¡¯t accept you weighing me down.¡± Damian''s neck had become numb a long time ago, he just failed to notice. ¡°So to avoid you doing anything stupid, I had your Kill Chip also filled with a toxin that will finish you in about,¡± she checked her watch, ¡°15-30 minutes, more or less.¡± Damian¡¯s arms felt cold. ¡°But if I¡¯m to be truly honest?¡± Damian¡¯s chest felt cold. ¡°I just wanted to see the look on your face¡± ¡­ Damian suddenly felt warm. He quickly stood up, pulled out his Void Gun, aimed directly at Alice¡¯s head, and- BANG! The shot came not from Damian nor Alice, nor the armed men or anyone else, but from Solomon Renier, who had hidden himself in the gunship. Damian was on his back, a burn mark square on his chest. Alice held a quick look of surprise on her as she looked at Solomon. His face was cold and dull, indifferent to the sins he commits in his business practices. He walked up to Damian¡¯s failing form and gave him a look of disappointment. He didn¡¯t even blink at him. ¡°Hey, I was busy!¡± Alice complied. ¡°He would have killed you.¡± replied Solomon, distant as always. ¡°I was plenty safe, I have an entire squad all aroun-¡± ¡°They would not have made it in time, Alice.¡± Alice sighed as she walked away. ¡°Whatever, you never let me have any fun. Come on, didn¡¯t you say you had a revolution in mind?¡± Damian did his best to stand, to raise his weapon and fire. Yet he was as still as a rock, unable to move so much as an inch. He could feel his whole body turn cold. Solomon crouched down and picked up the Void Cube. ¡°I¡¯ll be needing this later.¡± Solomon turned around and left calmly. He boarded the gunship with the others and left the dying Damian behind. Staring dispassionately all the while. Damian could feel the fatigue setting in. He was too tired and cold to move, too tired to think, too tired to do anything. Too tired to notice a second gunship and a familiar face pick him up.
Telios Star System Adirondack, Moon of Liroth Within Solarian Federation Space
Damian woke in a painful daze. He was on a hospital bed attached to blinking machinery. White fluorescent lights hummed above as he slowly opened his eyes. Where am I? Damian thought. Thinking back to how he got here, he remembered with near-perfect clarity. The Federation officer and the Vaecholl. Salve and Trytor¡¯s deaths. Alice and Solomon. Sophia. Damian attempted to stand quickly at the thought before being reminded by a deep throbbing pain in his chest. Raising his hospital gown, he could see bandages, stitches, and light burn marks around his chest. He then noticed his left arm, which had two tubes embedded in it. One gently sucked out dark, thick blood into a filter machine and the other flowed back the decontaminated liquid. He reached for his neck, to feel the Kill Chip, only to find it was gone. ¡°Looking for this?¡± said a voice. Damian looked to his right and saw Michael Renier, holding a Kill Chip with dried blood. Damian was understandably confused. After all, he was just about to die to the man¡¯s father. ¡°Wha-what?¡± Michael put the Kill Chip in Damian¡¯s weak hands. ¡°Confused?¡± ¡°Yeah, very confused.¡± ¡°It¡¯s alright, I¡¯ll explain. Your friend, Trytor, told me everything he knew about your situation. Put in a good word for you, in simpler terms. He told me about your sister, how you had been blackmailed into service by Ms. Fulganrir, and¡­that you were looking for a way out.¡± Damian just looked at him with confusion still in his eyes as Michael continued. ¡°My father knew this, Alice knew this, everyone knew this, except for me. I¡¯ve caught them lying to me in the past but now it¡¯s starting to get more and more serious by the day.¡± ¡°I suspect that should this continue, both my safety and individuality will be compromised to my father¡¯s liking.¡± Michael paused for a moment and gave Damian a cold look, so similar to his father, before turning into a warm smile. ¡°Heh, did you know I was only born to take his place if he ever died? That¡¯s right, my sole existence is to continue on a legacy of bloodied crime.¡± Oh, thought Damian about the implications of such a life. Michael walked to a window showing a massive gas giant in the sky, twin storms raging on its side. He stared at the planet, almost in a trance-like state. He seemed to be trying to find the right words to say to Damian. ¡°My father and Alice Fulganrir are only after one thing: power. Alice only wants power to feed her sadism, but my father wants it to rule Relorum and keep it independent from foreign influence. I don¡¯t think I need to tell you how much death would follow if he is allowed to establish a dictatorial rule over a whole planet.¡± ¡°That¡­would be very bad, would it?¡± Michael held a resenting face. ¡°Yes, it very much would.¡± ¡°But what do you want me to do? I thank you for saving me,¡± I wish you could have saved her, '''' but how in the world could I help?¡± Michael''s face of anger turned into a smug smile. ¡°It¡¯s simple: they think you¡¯re dead. If they think you¡¯re dead then you have the advantage to strike back. You do want to get back at them, don¡¯t you?¡± Damian thought about the proposal and then thought of a far more important question. ¡°What do you get out of all this?¡± Michael stayed quiet for a moment before responding. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­never truly agreed with the Tymirium Syndicate. There have been many times in my life where I question if I follow my father out of love or fear.¡± Michael walked away from the window. ¡°It took me a while to figure out it was the latter rather than the former.¡± Damian refocused himself. He still had questions to ask. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that, but again, what do you hope to gain out of all this? The Syndicate? Relorum? Revenge?¡± Michael¡¯s attention was drawn back to Damian. ¡°Mostly revenge and preventing my father from killing the innocent, and people like you are just one of many examples of why I¡¯m doing all this. Natalia was going to be my easy way out, but seeing how you ripped her arm off, well, it makes this a whole lot more difficult.¡± ¡°Ah, sorry about that.¡± said Damian, now feeling the guilt. Michael sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t be, there was nothing either of us could do besides warning her.¡± So that¡¯s how she knew of the operation beforehand, thought Damian. ¡°But end goal wise? I don¡¯t know, maybe go live on Earth or become a bounty hunter.¡± ¡°And to do that you need me?¡± Michael looked at Damian with a smile. ¡°No, I don¡¯t need you specifically. You¡¯re just the most readily available.¡± Michael took slow, methodical steps toward Damian¡¯s bedside. ¡°However, I don¡¯t think I need to do much in order for you to join my cause.¡± Damian thought back about Sophia, and how lifeless she looked. How Alice had tricked him into being the reason for her death. And how it was all for some sick laugh. Michael reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handgun. ¡°So tell me, Mister Galvin,¡± Michael presented Damian with the gun¡¯s handle. ¡°How would you like to join¡­a real revolution?¡± Damian looked at the handle, slowly took it in his hand, thought about it, and looked back at Michael. He nodded with confirmation. An Island and the Old Country July 20th, 1930 On the Island of Sicily
My name is Mario Lucchese. I''m the husband of Maria Lucchese and the father of two, Nunzia and Salvatore. But above all else, I''m poor. Seriously poor. Back in ''29, I bought some American and French stock. I put a lot of money in that stock, believing that my family and I could move to Naples when I sold it. Then the world economy crashed, and everything went south after that. Poverty soared, businesses closed, and the republics and empires of Europe and North America were in disarray. They still are to this day. I believe the Americans and British are calling this the Depression. Well, ever since then, our farm has been the only source of income we have. We sell lemons and whatever animal trespasses on our property. We''ve had to take rations on our food to make any money or sometimes to break even. I''ve had to watch my little Nunzia grow skinny and pale from the lack of food we eat. Maria attempts to hide the fact our daughter is malnourished from the rest of town by covering her in thick clothing, but I can tell the others can see right through her shotty disguise. But now it''s gotten much worse. This past week my little brother, Antonio, got arrested by the Black Shirts during an anti-nationalist protest. I had no money to bail him out of jail. Instead, I went to see the only person who could, Don Russo. Don Russo is one of the Sicilian Mafia bosses throughout the country¡ªa man who would exchange money for favors down the road. I went to him asking for 2,000 lira to bail him out. Don Russo agreed as long as I paid him back. I used only 1,000 of the lira to bail out my brother and planned to use the other thousand to make some more money to pay him back with interest. One day, I headed into a tavern on the outskirts of town. I entered the old tavern, the smell of wood resin and alcohol immediately assaulting my sense of smell. I sat down and asked for a fine brandy. They gave me expired whiskey instead, but I was too stressed out at the time to care. Alcohol is alcohol. As I drank the horrid glass, I overheard a conversation. "They got him," said a young man in a light grey suit and coat. "Got who? said an older man in suspenders and an olive shirt. "Russo," the young man spoke. "The Black Shirts arrested him this morning. Public execution they''re giving him. They''re going to whip and skin him, then cut his head off!" I put my glass down and stopped drinking. Now they have my full attention. "''Skin him?'' Shit, that''s bad." "What''s worse is Russo accidentally left a paper trail before they got him, meaning they''ll be onto us soon." That can''t lead to me, can it? "Are you fucking serious right now! Goddamn idiot and his money!" the old man yelled. He then sighed in frustration. "Who was his last client?" The young man answered. "I don''t know. Some low-life farmer named Mario asking for bail money." Dread fills my soul. It can lead to me. "Right then. Find his clients and make them keep quiet. It will give us time to escape to Spain." The men then walk past me. I pretended to be blackout drunk during the whole conversation. When they leave, I make a dash to my home. After I aggressively knocked on the door and Maria opened it, I first thing I say is, "Maria, pack your bags. We''re leaving for North America." There was confusion at first. Maria and the children kept asking why. Why? Why must we leave our home, our country, for the Americans? Why must we leave our farm for the crowds of industrial New York? Why did Antonio get arrested? Why are we moving so suddenly? Why am I acting so fearful? Why is there a knock at the door? A knock on the door? Yes, a knock on the door. Maria is quicker to answer the door than I am. The moment she does, all her questions now suddenly have answers. Two men in black uniforms, handsome and tall, stern and strong, stand just outside the mouth of the door. They raised her hats down to their chests. "Good evening, sir and madam. My name is Captain Dante Salvini, and this is Lieutenant Faviano Perazzo. We are with the Voluntary Militia for National Security. May we step inside?" He said, already having taken a step on the welcome rug. Fear has now entered my very soul, and I order the children back to their room. "Salvatore, Nunzia, go to your rooms. Adults are talking." The children do as I asked. I and Maria look to the captain, a joyful grin on his face. "Oh, I remember when I was a child. You know I used to play in the dirt quite often in my youth. My father would yell at me for ruining my clothes. Hard to believe that little mischievous boy has risen to gain the respect of the duce. Make me wonder what the babies of others will grow up to be," he said, still smiling like the devil. "Unfortunately, we aren''t here to discuss the future of your children. No, we''re here to discuss some money loaned out from a mister Don Russo. Apparently, the money we followed leads here. You wouldn''t happen to know anything about that, would you?" I fain ignorance. I don''t remember what I even told him or what he asked. I just started talking, talking, and talking like my life depended on it, because it did. In the end, I was able to convince the two Black Shirts we weren''t the Lucchese family, and they both left. I''ve never felt a stress like that before in my life. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. We packed our bags and headed for the nearest port the next morning. We didn''t even bother selling our property.
August 1st, 1930 Ellis Island, New York City
It took 12 days of open sea to reach the American harbor. In the distance, Salvatore spotted the smokestacks and tall skyscrapers of New York City. We arrive off the steamboat and onto an island with hundreds of people. I look around and see what feels like a million different races and cultures. I see dark-skinned Africans and white-colored French, formally dressed British and thick-accented Russians, blue-eyed Germans and full-bearded Hebrews, and so many more. They all are speaking different languages and the sound of one voice I can''t discern from another, creating a cacophony of noise I can''t understand. We get in line, or what I believe is supposed to be a line, with our immigration papers. American military men surround us on all sides. I walked up to the man in the booth. "Ez u ka la papa ur regi nation, plass" he says in English. "What?" I say in Italian. "Ez u ka la papa ur regi nation, plass" he says again, more sternly. I don''t understand what he''s saying, so I attempt to tell him. In truth, it sounded more like "Ehh, angle ish I no understando." He then reaches under his desk and presses a button, and holds up a finger to me, I believe telling me to wait. Nunzia is starting to cry. She''s never been in a place full of strangers before, let alone those who look and sound different than her. Maria goes to comfort her while Salvatore grabs hold of my leg. A group of men then came and ushered us forward, rather aggressively, to a different booth. Here the language is written in Italian and not English, along with an Italian-speaking secretary. "Take this and stay with it," he says giving us a paper item. It''s a numbered card, with strange bureaucratic inscriptions written in ink that I don''t understand. All of a sudden, each of us is separated from each other by officers and taken to different areas. "Maria! Salvatore!" I yell in confusion. "Stop! Where are you taking me?!" I worry I made a mistake. That somehow the Black Shirts or the Mafia had followed me and planned an ambush. But the fear only lasts for a moment. Black Shirts do take me to meet my death, but instead, I''m put in an exam room. The lights here are blinding and irritating to my eyes. The floor is somehow both clinical and dirty at the same time. The seat I''m put in is uneven, uncomfortable, and worn down. A man in a white coat then enters--a doctor. "What is your name?" he says in Italian. "I, uh, Mario. Mario Lucchese." "Age and occupation?" "34 years and a former lemon farmer." "How long have you been a farmer?" I don''t know. Uh, since the age of 9, I suppose. Listen, what''s going on? Where did you take my wife and children?" He doesn''t answer. "Can you read English?" "I...No...Where are my children?" "Sir, please calm down and answer my questions." "No, no, no, you need to tell me what''s going on," I demand. "You whisked me and my wife away from our children and refuse to answer my questions. No, of course I don''t speak or read English. Now tell whe-" "Sir, as I have stated before, please calm down and answer my questions. Your wife and children are safe and going through the same exam you''re going through now. This includes questions eligibly for work, literacy tests, background, and how well you score for American citizenship. Now may I continue?" the doctor says. I''m initially relieved to hear they''re safe. I comply with the rest of the procedure, though I frustratingly say, "Could''ve fucking said that from the start, you know?" "Standard procedure, sir" "Right, ''standard.''" The rest of the exam follows: the doctor asks a question, and I answer. In between that, he examines my body proportions and health. I go through eye exams, strength exams, literacy exams, and a test for tuberculous. They give an average passing on the scores and grant me civilian status. They say I need to at least be able to read English to take the citizenship test. I leave with my papers stamped and approved. I wait outside for the others. A guard then comes out and hands off my son and daughter. "Oh, there you are!" I say in relief. Maria hasn''t arrived yet, so I assume she''s still taking her tests. An hour passes before concern starts to take hold. "Where Mommy?" asks Nunzia. "I don''t know," I answer. "Let me check." I walk up to the building and ask around. Most people don''t understand me until I reach the doctor from earlier. "She failed her tests. She''s not coming with you." "What!" "Says here she has pneumonia. Honestly, it''s impressive she can speak at all." That''s bullshit. That''s bullshit! Maria doesn''t have pneumonia. I know that because she was cured of it as a young adult. She''s never had it since. "There must be some mistake. Maria had pneumonia early in her life but she''s been cured of it. I know for sure she doesn''t have it now. Did...did you look inside her throat and guess?" The doctor stares at me in a way that implies he did but doesn''t want to admit it. "It doesn''t matter. She failed her English and work tests. She''s being sent back to your home country now," he says carelessly. I rush back into the main building to find her, only not to find her anywhere and a steamboat leaving the harbor. She''s gone.
September 4th, 1931 New York City, United States of America
In New York, I work in a factory making car parts. The process is tiring and monotonous, and I earn very little. The workers and employers look at me with suspicious scowls. I don''t scowl back for fear of having a worse wage. The only thing on my mind right now is caring for Salvatore and Nunzia. It''s been more than a year since we came to the United States. Antonio has told me in letters he is to remain in Italy to fight for the anti-fascist liberation movement, but he claims no knowledge of Maria''s whereabouts. In a sense, I''m still grieving, but I''ve had to force that down and focus on what is important: my children.