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Rated: 18+ · Other · Sci-fi · #1232294
UNHOLY is about a resistance movement fighting against a ruthless tyrant
Chapter 4


Aaron leaned over the control boards in his ship as they approached the bright green

planet known as Femm, his pilot sitting patiently as he monitored the status of the small

cargo ship. Sal was seated quietly behind them. Dark circles had formed beneath Aaron’s

eyes indicative of his lack of sleep. It wasn’t so much that he hadn’t tried, after all, he’d

had plenty of time to sleep during the journey. Aaron had never slept well during space

travel, but this had been aggravated by his concerns over the possibility that he had set a

direct course for danger. He knew that he had to act quickly if he wanted to avoid being

handed over to the Dark Lord

The ship floated lazily through space as they awaited permission to land and relevant

directives from the Planetary Space Control Center. He looked out of the front window at

the stars shining in the distance. The white light of the Femmii sun shone brightly on his

face as they drew near.

“This is ZFX niner two-six-two-four-one-eight-two of Agobrom, requesting permission

to land”

“One moment ZFX, we will need to verify your drive signatures”

Aaron rolled his eyes into the back of his head as he waited impatiently for authorization.

A whole ten minutes passed as he fidgeted, his irritation growing with every second.

“Is anyone down there? We’ve been waiti-“

“Sorry for the inconvenience ZFX, you have been verified. Direct your craft to hangar p-

412. There will be a docking fee and customs inspection before you are permitted to

disembark. Is this understood?”

“Roger that.”

He nodded to the pilot as they headed towards the Femm atmosphere.

The heat in the cockpit rose considerably as the ship began to pass through the

atmosphere descending towards the planet below.

Aaron found his seat, strapping himself in safely.

The ship bounced violently as they headed in the direction of the Femm spaceport.

The sky was beautifully tinted bright green, long shadows cast across the ground below

as the Femmii sun struck the surfaces of structures scattered across the landscape.

Upon landing they were instructed to stay in their seats. Customs personnel promptly

boarded searching for secret compartments used to store illicit weapons and drugs,

leaving armed guards standing near the passangers.

After Aaron had paid an exorbitant fee he and his crew were finally allowed to exit the

craft.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as his feet clanged their way down the ship’s boarding

ramp, accompanied by Sal and a bodyguard. Even though Kris had advised him that the

locals were as of yet unaware of the manhunt taking place in other parts of the galaxy, he

was still very much nervous around the hardened Aaridian officials. There were some

things worse than death, and it was a well known fact that Lord Dren employed every

means at his disposal to make his victims suffer before he finally ended their lives. The

thought of what his parents had gone through as political prisoners when Dren had taken

power caused him to shudder visibly. It was this combination of disgust, anger, and

sadness for their premature deaths that drove him. Even though his body was exhausted,

his mind was still very much awake.

“I don’t have the slightest idea as to how we’re going to be able to accomplish this.”

He spoke mostly to himself as he and his companions exited the hangar in which they had

landed. Security systems were positioned strategically around all of the doors in the

building. Periodically, Aaron saw someone they had apparently regarded as suspicious.

Cameras, in spherical ritrothium metal casings floated near these individuals, following

them. It was almost comical, as many of them had apparently grown used to scrutiny.

They acted as though they didn’t even notice. The trio walked quietly together before Sal

politely broke the silence.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I think I have an idea…”

Aaron chuckled.

“Well in all honesty I have you here so I can watch you, not so much to help.”

The blue Mokse hung his tubby bald head in silence for a few moments as they walked.

After they were able to finally push through the endless lines that filled the spaceport, the

fresh Femmii air was much welcomed. Aaron sat on a bench just outside, where he would

try and devise an effective means of rallying support from people who didn’t know him,

and valued their lives enough that they would probably ignore him and walk away

quickly at the mention of a resistance movement. It all seemed so hopeless. As much as

Aaron hated the evil tyrant their was no denying that he was a master of controlling the

masses, possibly even one of the most skillful dictators in the history of the galaxy.

He held his head in his hands as he tried desperately to think, underneath a beautiful

Reyess-Lem tree that blew gently in the Femmi summer breeze. Unlike most cities that

Aaron had been to, the buildings here were still built from stone, spaced apart enough

from each other so as not to look crowded. He could even see bright green fields growing

in the distance. The city had the appearance of a village, known throughout the galaxy as

one of the largest trading hubs, not to mention a very popular vacation spot for the rich

and famous.

Aaron looked up as Sal plopped down beside him, finally having gotten tired of standing.

He still held his head down, appearing to empathize. He was certainly the oddest

Aaridian soldier Aaron had ever seen. He had seen many to be sure. They had been cruel,

often murdering and raping innocents, taking what they pleased. Yet this Mokse was

polite and respectful, and somehow Aaron was sure that it was genuine. He had been out

of place to be sure. Nice guys do finish last, especially in the Aaridian government.Aaron

wondered how long Sal would have lasted in the military if they hadn’t of found him on

Sor.

“Ok, fine. Lets hear it.”

The chubby blue Sal lifted his head slowly, as if still deep in thought.

“There is a crimelord that lives here…he’s even been able to operate successfully since

Dren took power. He has a lot of influence -”

Their companion laughed. He was wearing bright orange body armor, and an orange

armored helmet. A lightly tinted visor covered his eyes as he surveyed the people around

him.


“Aaron, this guy is Aaridian….are you really listening to him? How would he even know

about a crime boss living here anyways. You’re gonna get us killed if you believe a word

he has to say.”

Aaron raised his hand signaling for the bodyguard’s silence.

“Explain how you would know this”

Sal nodded.

“When I was initially drafted I was stationed here. It was a well known fact that a

syndicate was using this planet as a waypoint to smuggle. He had been part of the

community for quite some time. He is a sloom named Korus-“

“Wait,wait.wait….you knew Korus? THE Korus? As in Miasma Cartel?

Aaron looked at the Mokse in astonishment.

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Yeah, I haven’t met anyone who hasn’t. He isn’t much better than Dren as far as I can

tell.”

“Well I understand, but maybe sometimes it is good to choose the lesser of two evils. I

can’t think of anything else”

“You’ve met him?”

The Mokse shook his head.

“No…..but a lot of the soldiers I was here with did. Many of them took bribes from him.

Somehow eventually high ranking officials found out that he was still operating

here…prospering. My superior blamed me and a handful of other soldiers to save his own

skin. We were arrested and court marshaled. They wouldn’t discharge us from the service


though. Nobody gets discharged alive anymore. We were promptly assigned to some of

the remotest parts of the galaxy. That’s how I ended up on Sor.”

The bodyguard that accompanied them could barely contain himself.

“What? So basically you’re considering letting him lead us into a den of mobsters, who

are probably in the company of Aaridians…or at least closely monitored by them. It’s a

trap. He’ll get us killed”

Aaron finally turned to the man, irritated.

“You weren’t there on Sor when we found him were you?”

“no, but what does that have to do –“

“So you didn’t see him beg us to take him with us?”

“well, no. But-“

“Then shut your mouth, Morris. Betraying us wouldn’t serve his interests. Dren would

never let him live anyway.”

Morris closed his mouth tightly, gritting his teeth. He resumed watching people as they

passed, constantly evaluating them for potential threats to his leader.

Aaron turned back to Sal.

“Do you think he can be convinced?”

“possibly. I can see how it would be beneficial for him if Dren were gone. He isn’t

simply paying an occasional bribe to stay in business. He’s paying huge sums of

money simply to stay alive. The Aaridians would execute him in a heartbeat if he

didn’t pay.”

Aaron paused to consider this for a moment. The question wasn’t whether or not it

was logical to work against Dren from a business prospective….could they

convince the notorious leader of Miasma that he would be safe? Would he believe

that they had a chance?

Aaron stood as he finally made his decision. What choice did he have? On one

hand there was no hope, and on the other very little. He wasn’t concerned as Morris

had been, with the possibility that Sal would lead them into a trap.

“Where can we meet with him?”

“Meeting him is the real challenge. Unless his people can convince him that

meeting us would be beneficial, we don’t stand a chance.”

“Do you think we can convince em?”

Sal shook his head solemnly.

“They’re idiots. They don’t get paid to think, they get paid to murder, steal, smuggle

and bribe.”

“Lead the way. We’ll have to figure out the rest as we go. Do you think anyone here

would recognize you from your days being stationed here?”

The mokse paused, scratching his head.

“I don’t know. My old superior was executed and replaced from what I hear. I doubt

anyone else would remember me….”

“Let’s hope that’s the case. If they recognize you it could be problematic for our

mission”

Aaron motioned to his mokse companion, who turned as they followed, headed

towards the Miasma crime den.

Sal led them through the winding, cobblestone streets of the great Femmii capitol.

The streets were now remarkably serene. It was hard to believe that this would be

possible considering how crowded the spaceport had been. Long shadows cast

across the pavement as the sun begun to set. A purple haze began to descend on

the city. Aaron could tell that visibility would soon be reduced drastically.

They walked in silence as they contemplated possible resolutions for the obstacles

that lay ahead. It seemed hours had passed before Sal had finally brought them to

a small building, perhaps the only one in the city constructed from more modern

materials. It looked like a miniature military barracks, armored. There was a small

stairwell that led to the only entrance. The structure was built into a nearby hillside.

Morris scoffed.

“This isn’t a crime den, it’s a small home or a bomb shelter. I guarantee you that if

we go in there….it’s going to be a trap.”

Both Sal and Aaron ignored him as they continued to approach the door. A camera

was positioned at the top right corner of the stoop.

Aaron stepped forward and pounded on the large reinforced steel door. An intercom

positioned to his right buzzed as a man with a thick drovian accent responded.

“yesssss, how can we helps you”


Sal squirmed at the sound of the sinister accent as it reported. Aaron used his

thumb to depress a small red button below the speaker.

“I am Aaron, these are my companions, Morris….”

He paused as he thought of a suitable alias for the blue mokse, who for all he

knew, might be recognized by those who remember him.

“This is Gyrich. We are requesting an audience with Korus.”

Aaron felt a chill run down his spine as the voice responded again with a cackle.

“Everyone wants to see the bosssssss. This issss a private operation. Go have a

drink at the tavern or sssssomething.”

Aaron ran his hand through his hair as he tried desperately to find a way to

convince the drovian to allow him to see Korus. Sal gulped as he stepped forward.

He knew what he had to do. He pressed the button, stammering as he spoke into

the intercom.

“T-This is S-S-Sa-Sal Drovsky. I am an Aaridian Military Officer. Open up

immediately or face the consequences.”

The voice laughed.

“No uniform. No identification. No entry.”

The short blue mokse withdrew a small idrive from his coat pocket. It was about the

size of his thumb. He inserted it into an empty slot, situated beneath the intercom

on which he spoke.

“Go ahead and verify”

There was silence for a few long minutes as the trio waited for a reply. Finally, the

door clanged and hissed as it slid open. A thin drovian stood in front of them where

the door had previously blocked the way ahead. He was accompanied by two

enormous muscle bound bodyguards standing at his sides. The drovian, like most

of his species, was scrawny, covered with brown fur. Opposing thumbs protruded

from each of his bare feet. His cat-like slanted eyes stared warily at the uninvited

guests.

“We will check you for weapons” He said deviously, as his guards began to pat

down Aaron and his associates. “No one is allowed weapons in the presence of the

Boss. Aaridian Military or no.”

When they had finished he motioned for them to follow.

They walked through several dimly lit corridors, before finally emerging into a large

room. Femme strippers danced on tables to loud music, as the few individuals

wealthy enough to be allowed entry socialized with one another, wearing some of

the most expensive brands of designer clothing available throughout the galaxy.

Neon lights flashed lighting the room for brief moments. Aaron could see a number

of the patrons along with what he assumed were club employees leering as he

walked by. It was obvious that the people there didn’t trust Aaridians, to say the

least. They were escorted past the crowds and through another corridor. Guards

wearing thick body armor, high powered rifles positioned at ready across their

chests, stood at either side of a door at the end of the hall. The drovian pressed his

thumb against a device that protruded from the doorframe. A transparent green

covering lit as it scanned, verifying his identity. Aaron heard a click as the drovian

leaned forward and opened the door. Aaron and his companions, followed by their

escort walked into a spacious office. The room was decorated lavishly with what

Aaron recognized as a number of stolen artifacts, taken from several planets across

the galaxy. Against a far wall stood a large keris wood desk, a computer console

lay neatly on its polished surface. The walls were lined with bookcases, filled with

books written in exotic languages. Aaron shifted his gaze to the fattest creature he

had ever seen standing at the center of the room. Aaron imagined that even if the

creature was not wealthy enough to prefer custom tailored clothing, he would still

need his suits to be specially made to fit him. He was a sloom, large and slimy, his

head undersized. He smiled at the trio as they stood quietly in front of him.

“So you have come to collect more money from me eh?”

“No” Aaron clasped his hands in front of him reverently as he prepared make his

proposition to the great and abominable slimeball that stood in front of him.

“Well I suppose it is just as well. If you had tried to steal from me I might’ve tortured

you before I turned you over to the Aaridians”

At hearing this Aaron’s stomach lurched. His eyes widened.

‘Wha-“

“Don’t act surprised. The credentials this one showed” He motioned to Sal, who

stood wide eyed and quivering next to Morris who was shaking his head in disgust.

“revealed that a significant bounty has been offered for his capture.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

” For the sake of curiosity, why would you come here risking exposure if not for my

money?”

“For political support. We are fighting against the Dark Lord. We don’t have the

manpower or resources to attack larger outposts.”

The sloom laughed, his deep and booming voice filled the room accompanied only

by silence.

“You believe that you can defeat Dren with hit and run guerilla warfare?”

He laughed again.

“I think Id rather take my chances with the Dark Lord.”

“No, Korus. We wont defeat him that way. We need support and access to

weaponry. The people, even many of the Aaridian soldiers have grown tired of living

in fear. If we can make them believe that we can triumph, many will join our cause.

This is just as much politics as it is war.”

Korus looked at Aaron thoughtfully, holding his chin with his small, green wrinkly

hand.

“You are the ones who attacked the outpost on Sor, aren’t you?”

Aaron was astonished. He had been told that the intelligence branch hadn’t arrived

yet to head the manhunt.

“I have sources everywhere. My business is information, information his money.

Enough money will buy even the most well guarded secrets….”


Aaron’s expression changed, he wore a look of increasing determination. His eyes

narrowed as he spoke.

“Listen, I really don’t like what you do at all, however, an alliance between us can

be mutually beneficial. You and I both know that the Aaridians will eventually kill

you. You won’t ever be able to retire because as soon as the money stops flowing

you’ll be arrested, tortured and executed. If Dren is allowed to continue to rule he

will kill billions, perhaps even trillions more people.”


The sloom sighed as he mulled over what the human had just told him. The truth

spoke for itself. As much as he hated it, even he could not deny it when it was this

cut and dry.


“We came because of your influence, your contacts with some of the most affluent

beings in the galaxy. You have great power here. You could use it for good and be

a revered hero throughout the-“

Korus waved his shriveled hand, motioning for silence.

“Don’t feed me that fairy tale hero crap. I don’t care about being a hero. I like

money, my allegiance lies with money. The only thing I value more, is my own

life…which is why I will make a deal with you. If you can take me off-world safely I

will divert resources to your cause. I never break my word.”


“Why do you need our help getting off-world?”

“Because my own people can’t help me. Most of our ships have long been

confiscated. They check the ones we have been allowed to keep thoroughly before

departure and we don’t have weapons powerful enough to fight our way off world. “


“Yeah, but there would be ways around that.”

“There would be….except that I have reason to believe that an Aaridian spy has

been in our midst.”

Morris and Aaron exchanged meaningful looks.

“It seems that we don’t really have much choice. It’s a deal.”

The intercom buzzed to life as the sloom waddled back towards his desk hurriedly.

He threw his arms up in frustration.

“’ey, Boss, the Aaridians are here to see you.”

“um – tell them I’ll need a few moments”

He reached under his desk and pressed a small button. Aaron watched as one of

the center bookcases swung outwards revealing a passage that led through a

tunnel beneath the hill that his base of operations had been built into.

He motioned for Aaron and his comrades to follow. The drovian swaggered behind

them, his back hunched slightly, two guards stepping in unison with him at either

side.

“Come, we must be quick. This will lead us to the commercial district. With any

luck we’ll have exited the tunnel on the other side before they notice something is

amiss.”

They quietly followed the giant sloom through the winding corridors. Aaron listened

intently for threats that lay ahead, despite Korus’ reassurances that the Aaridians

had no knowledge of his secret passage. He could hear the bookcase as it

snapped closed behind them, probably propelled by springs judging by the sound.

“Korus, If I’m going to get you off-world I need to make a call.”

“Be my guest.”

The young revolutionary reached into his robes, frantically feeling for the familiar

shape of his comlink. The tunnels had gotten significantly darker now as they

wended their way forward. As he found his communications device he was able to

use the light emitted by its screen to see as he dialed Marcos’ geocode. He held

the comlink near his mouth as he whispered to his trusted friend on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Marcos its me. Listen we don’t have much time. I need you to bring as many men

as you can here to Femm. Contact me when you get here. hurry, the Aaridians are

after us.”

“Are you serious? I told you that damn mokse was bad news!”, His friend exclaimed.

“Look it wasn’t him, we’ve accomplished our mission. We need to move someone

here off-world in exchange.”

“How did the-“

Aaron breathed heavily, becoming more impatient as his friend continued to prod

him for more information.

“No time to explain. Hurry.”

He closed the device and pocketed it as they worked their way forward.

He heard a loud bump as the sloom began to spout expletives mingled with cries of

pain.

“Whats wrong, whats going on?”

Aaron began to draw his blaster, anticipating danger.

A furry hand grasped his arm restraining him from doing so.

“Itssss fine. He jusssst bumped into the wall. Thissss isssn’t the firsssst time”

The young man shook the drovian’s grasp from his arm, irritated with himself at

having been so easily spooked.

As his eyes finally began to adjust he could see the enormous shape of the sloom

climbing what he assumed was a ladder mounted to the wall. He continued to

curse as he breathed heavily, straining with every muscle in his fat body as he

ascended.

Aaron heard the gargantuan crimelord grunt as the sound of metal scraping against

pavement above echoed throughout the cavern. A beam of artificial light shone

through a steadily enlarging hole in the ceiling. Sal and Morris climbed up next,

followed by Aaron, the drovian and his guards.

They emerged into a large room filled with baggage, electronic media blanketed in

dust and clothing slung carelessly across the room. A metal grate lay next to the

hole from which they had climbed.


“We’re in a hotel in the commercial district.”

Aaron warily surveyed his surroundings, carefully watching for any sign of danger.

“We need to find somewhere to wait for my friends to arrive…”

Korus nodded his bulbous head as he motioned for them to follow. There was a

transport chamber located at the far end of the room, almost completely hidden

behind the seemingly endless racks of clothing.


“In case you’re wondering….this is where they stash goods left in hotel rooms after

visitors leave.”

He whispered as he and Sal began lifting a rack that blocked the entrance to the

chamber to move it to the side. Sal’s veins stuck out slightly from his forehead, his

face dark purple as he strained to lift, failing miserably.

Korus laughed, nodding to his guard who stepped forward, pushing the poor mokse

out of the way.

Together the sloom and his henchman lifted the rack and tossed it across the

room, where it landed on yet another pile of clothing with a soft thud.

“I’d appreciate it in the future if your cronies would treat my friends with some

respect.”

Aaron’s face had reddened taking offense at the way his mokse friend had been

treated. The sloom gangster nodded acknowledging Aarons request before they

turned and boarded the small chamber. It was constructed from a light blue

transparent material. A small control panel protruded from the inside for navigating

through various floors in the building. The wiring that supplied electricity to it was

visible through the smooth, clear surface that the chamber had been constructed

from. The drovian keyed in their destination as they began their ascent in the rather

cramped transport.


They emerged on the ground floor, in a spacious lobby. The room had been

decorated extravagantly. Several pillars crafted from exceptionally beautiful stone,

shimmering in the dull light. Paintings hung on the wall, one of which, directly

behind a reception desk depicted a pale-skinned bald man, with eyes dark and

unfeeling. He basked in an unnatural light, glowing. The painting was set in a

beautifully crafted gilded frame, Aaron was certain that even the frame was worth

several thousand Aarids. It was not at all uncommon for those under Aaridian

control to hang such paintings in their offices and homes, hoping to gain favor for

their ‘loyalty’. Such pretentiousness nauseated the young revolutionary.

Besides the décor, the room bustled with guests and busdroids, rushing to and fro.

A line stood in front of the reception desk, yet no one seemed to be paying

attention to what they were doing. Even the man being served had his head turned

towards a crowd that had gathered in the center of the room. Aaron cringed as he

realized why everyone had been so captivated, images of merciless destruction

showed on a hologram that hung, suspended in midair above their heads. As he

approached he could hear the audio recordings that accompanied it.


“This is Renee with Femm HoloNews, we are standing here at an alleged

smuggler’s base of operations where the Aaridian military has opened fire on the

civilians.-“

Aaron could see plumes of smoke rising from the building that stood behind her.

Screams emitted loudly as the patrons tried in vain to escape. They were cut down

by the Aaridians without hesitation. An Aaridian Military transport descended mere

meters behind the brave reporter. Aaron winced as he saw them approaching the

cameras rapidly, their blasters raising as they opened fire. She turned her head

nervously towards them as she spoke frantically, trying to inform the people of the

atrocity being committed before her inevitable demise.

The crowd began to mutter amongst themselves. Some averted their eyes dreading

the events unfolding. Those who witnessed it became visibly enraged, they shifted

their feet anxiously, their faces now darkened. Aaron jumped over the reception

desk, bowling over a hotel employee as he tried to push him back. He grabbed the

painting of Lord Dren, holding it with both arms, and pulled ripping it from the wall.

Several in the crowd gasped as they witnessed this blatant contempt for the tyrant,

surely punishable by death.

The hotel employee having gotten to his feet glared at the young revolutionary.

“I’m calling the Aaridians..”

He spoke hoarsely as he keyed a small console that had been installed underneath

a polished shelf. Aaron threw the painting across the room where its frame

shattered, the canvas dropping into a heap against the wall. As Alarms began to

sound throughout the building the crowd began to get agitated. Several men and

women proceeded to trash the lobby, ripping more paintings from the wall. One of

the guests knocked the receptionist unconscious with an ornament that had stood

on the front desk. He fell with a soft thud, a pool of blood underneath his injured

brow. It was now all-out chaos, the oppressed people had finally begun to rebel.


Aaron jumped as he heard the booming voice of Korus, his companions finally

catching up with him.

“We were supposed to keep a low profile!!!”

“It will be easier for us to escape amid chaos”

Morris carried a small blaster at ready. The mokse standing quietly with his hands

clasped behind his back.

Shouts erupted from the entrance to the hotel, fire erupting as a small contingent of

Aaridian soldiers arrived on the scene.

Morris raised his weapon firing, killing two out of four of the soldiers. Several of the

hotel guests rushed forwards overwhelming the remainder of the contingent before

they could fire another single shot, beating them, and pulling away their weapons

and armor.

“Perhaps we should leave now” Sal whispered in the ear of his leader. His voice

high pitched, fearful of capture. Aaron nodded and the group proceeded to exit the

building. Outside another Aaridian transport had descended. Aaron could hear

blaster fire and explosions rocking in the distance. Parked vehicles were burning as

civilians’ clamored up and down the streets. People threw burning items at Aaridian

soldiers as the passed by, many from the safety for their balconies. Morris knelt on

one knee waiting for the soldiers exiting a nearby transport to approach. They

formed ranks and began to talk towards the hotel, firing on anyone they saw as

they moved. The bodyguard stood, hunched over behind the burned-out remains of

a hovercraft. He reached into his belt unstrapping a frag cylinder. As he motioned

for his comrades to move further down the street, under cover of damaged or

abandoned vehicles he tossed the device at the approaching Aaridians. A few of

them scattered quickly, but many had not time to react. They stood frozen with

shock as the device detonated, bodies disintegrating instantly. A few soldiers not in

the immediate blast radius were thrown violently in every which direction,

sometimes breaking bones as they were hurled into walls of vehicles. Many of them

laying on the ground motionless, the shockwave having damaged their internal

organs. Morris rushed to catch up with his comrades as the huddle together a few

meters away whispering excitedly.

“-so where it that?”

“Not far”

“It won’t be any problem staying out fro under the radar, the rioting is spreading

rapidly. The Aaridian soldiers are being overwhelmed by the locals.” The drovian

added thoughtfully

“yes, yes, you are an excellent strategist Aaron”


The sloom smiled patting the young revolutionary on the back, leaving behind a

visible trail of green slime.

“yes but how long will this last before the rebellion is quelled”

The mokse wore a quizzical expression. He was obviously reluctant to allow

himself to believe that the people would finally rise to fight the Dark Lord, without

submitting to the ruthless reprisals that were surely already in the making.


“I think it’s for keeps this time, Sal. They screwed up when they began killing

innocents….look at them, everyone is scared. They are fighting for their lives now.”

They walked carefully towards their destination, strafing corners, constantly

watching for the unwelcome Aaridian military forces. The streets were littered with

dead bodies of civilians and Aaridians alike, Military Transport units burning near

storefronts, their metal frames barely holding together. People could be seen

scurrying up and down the streets, blatantly defying curfew. It seemed as though

most of the Aaridian military presence had been subdued. After several hours

passed the operatives found the ruins of an office building in which they could take

shelter, carefully avoiding confrontation with any soldiers that might be on the hunt

for them, as unlikely as this seemed considering the massive rebellion that had

been sparked. For the first time in a long while Aaron felt as though his movement

was actually making a difference. He spoke jovially with his comrades, reminiscing

over the events that had unfolded. The sloom he had found, was not so bad after all.

He was extremely well educated, often quoting scholars and philosophers as he

spoke. As they sat huddled together, seated on the remains of badly burned

furniture he explained how he had become involved in his line of work. He spoke of

the prejudice in how his people had been treated, and how he had tried to make a

better life for himself, with only limited opportunities for employment. It was true,

humanoids far outnumbered any other known races, many of whom shared the

opinion that humans were superior. Only a handful of other species had been

allowed to enjoy the same liberties as the humans. They spoke until dawn. Then,

as the first rays of Femmii sunlight lit up the horizon Aaron’s comlink finally

chirped. He had finally gotten the call he had been waiting for.

“Yeah?”

“We’re here….get to the spaceport, ASAP. Kris called to advise me that the

Aaridian armies are being deployed to this planet. Geez, what the hell did you do?”

He laughed in disbelief. The mission had gone much better than anyone had

expected.

“We’re going to need to tell the people so they can get off-world before they arrive”

“Just hurry. I’ve been told that Dren is coming personally”

Aaron pocketed the comlink and turned to his comrades. “Our friends have arrived.

We need to alert the people so they can get off-world. Dren is coming personally to

quell the rebellion.”

“And how pray-tell can we accomplish that?” The drovian spoke for the first time in

hours, voicing his skepticism over young Aaron’s priorities.

“I was hoping you would have some idea…”

Korus nodded. “There is an Aaridian controlled news station not far from here, with

any luck it’ll be abandoned and we can access their equipment in order to

broadcast planet-wide.”





Chapter 5


Marcos walked briskly down the boarding ramp at the Femm spaceport, followed by

as many operatives he had been able to fit on board the transport. He watched as

more operatives marched off of several other nearby ships. Aside from their

presence the hangar in which they had landed was eerily devoid of life. He noticed a

few heaps of clothing scattered throughout the room, lifeless bodies of civilians

lying underneath.


There were a few security cameras still active in the far reaches of the room and

even more broken remains of cameras that had obviously been destroyed in some

kind of struggle. They marched towards the entrance to the hangar intent on

securing the area and ensuring that the way was clear for their comrades who

would be arriving shortly. Lights flickered in the ceiling temporarily brightening the

otherwise dimly lit room, power cables hung from the ceiling, sparking periodically.

Marcos supervised as his men searched the hangar, behind abandoned spaceships

and drums of cell fuel.



His acting second I command, Hansen approached, saluting as he came to a halt.

He stood at attention as he spoke loudly to his superior. He wore an Aaridian

military uniform with one slight modification, a white cloth wrapped around his left

arm. They had not had time to modify the stolen equipment from Sor so it could be

more easily told apart from enemy uniforms. He knew that this could eventually

present somewhat of a hazard if not dealt with. The white cloths had been

improvised for this purpose, so that allies would not be confused with the tyrant’s

military forces.

“Sir, we have swept the room, there is no Aaridian presence her, sir!”


“At ease, soldier. Gather the men. We will proceed to sweep the halls and secure

the entrance for our comrades”


The man nodded his freshly shaven head. He wheeled around and began to shout

orders to the soldiers. Marcos allowed them a few minutes to check their weapons.

He stood near the Hangar’s front door examining the body of an Aaridian soldier

lying lifeless on the cold steel floor. His blood coagulated on the hard, shiny

surface. He nudged him with his foot to check for any sign of reaction, finding none.


“Lets move forward, soldiers!” he called as he lifted his head. Armed and ready, the

ragtag resistance operatives began to fall in rank.

The men grouped together taking defensive positions as they strafed their way

through the halls warily. Here, the light had almost been entirely extinguished save

the daylight that occasionally shone through windows as they passed The group

split up as the halls intersected, a smaller contingent headed by Hansen moving in

the direction of the control room as Marcos and his men headed towards the front

entrance. They stopped periodically checking the vital signs of civilians that lay

sprawled out across the floor. The entrance, as Marcos had expected was sealed

off. They had locked down the spaceport to prevent any of the populace from

escaping the planet. This confirmed his underlying fear that enemy forces were

present somewhere in the building.


He leaned over and whispered to his men.


“ Maintain strict silence to avoid giving away our position.”


. They turned and tiptoed forwards, hunched over slightly so as to keep their bodies

closer to the ground in case of enemy fire. Marcos took cover at a corner leading

into a room that was still lit. He motioned to the man behind him to position himself

at the opposite side of the door. Marcos peered carefully around the corner

watching for any sign of movement.


Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the building. He gripped the wall keeping from

losing his balance. He could here blaster fire and several smaller explosions

echoing from the direction in which Hansen had gone. He could hear shouting as

his men called for the Aaridians to surrender, which they responded to with

obscenities. His receiver roared to life as Hansen’s men tried desperately to radio

for help. Marcos and his men were already running down the halls headed towards

the source of the commotion.


“Ambush! W-we’ve been ambushed!”

“Where’s Hansen?” he growled breathing heavily as he sprinted.

“He’s been hit, he’s been hit! Hurry!”

He rounded a corner where he saw several Aaridians who had blockaded

themselves in a training classroom raising their blasters above two upturned tables,

firing randomly at the door. He was yanked back by to strong hands, just as a bolt

whizzed by barely missing his head. He had seen a few bodies of his men in the

doorway, the survivors standing with their backs against the wall beside the

entrance.

“I can’t get a shot Marcos, the bolts won’t penetrate that table” The front man had

shouted.


“Toss em’ a frag cylinder” he yelled back. He watched as Bolts continued to pound

the wall adjacent to him at a steady pace. He waited hoping that his man would be

successful at throwing the device without the Aaridians hitting him while it was in

his hand, which would instantly kill him and any nearby comrades. There was a

loud explosion, as Marcos rounded the corner quickly followed by his men. The

upturned table had been thrown across the room by the force of the explosion. The

Aaridians, while stunned, had largely been shielded from the blast by the table.

“Don’t move a muscle bastards” he screamed at the top of his lungs

The man standing behind him shook as he pointed his weapon in the face of a

nearby enemy soldier. He had obviously been traumatized by seeing the sudden

deaths of several in his unit. Marcos unstrapped a couple pairs of lasikuffs from his

belt tossing them to the man, who stared at him blankly as they dropped to the

floor.

“What so we’re gonna let them live after what they did? They killed Hansen” His

face was ashen, his eyes narrowed. Beads of sweat ran across his face. He wore

an expression of deep hatred and disgust.

“Yes. We don’t execute prisoners.”

“What? We don’t execute prisoners?” The man’s voice was shrill now, his weapon

still pointed in the face of the soldier who was regaining consciousness.


“they do….look! LOOK! LOOK AT THEM! They don’t take prisoners. GOD DAMNIT!”


“Calm down, calm down. Take a walk sergeant. Whatever you do, don’t do anything

we will both regret.”

Marcos turned, pointing his blaster at the angry soldier that had stood at his side.

“What like sparing the life of a MASS MURDER!” He shifted his feet biting his lip.

The tension mounting rapidly as his superior tried to negotiate with him. The man

twitched as he shrieked at his superior his eyes now wide and filled with madness.

“What? What? YOU GONNA SHOOT ME??? DO IT! DO IT!”

He was sweating profusely now, steadily losing more control as his anger devoured

him alive. He began to grow impatient. He chuckled, breathing heavily. “You’re

serious? He’s serious. He’s really serious. I can’t believe it.”, He muttered

“Stand down soldier” Marcos spoke sternly, desperately hoping that he would

somehow manage to calm his comrade as he prepared to defend the unarmed

Aaridian that lay on the floor, shaking with fear.

“FUCK THIS! FUCK THIS!! HELL NO!”

The man finally worked up the courage as he opened fire on the Aaridian, who lost

consciousness again, permanently. Marcos squeezed the trigger of his blaster in

an attempt to stop his angry subordinate, but it was too late. The damage had

already been done. He stepped over the body of the deranged soldier, shaking his

head, tears brimming in his eyes. He could think of nothing he had ever done that

he hated more than this. He defended an Aaridian scumbag over one of his own

soldiers. A stunned silence filled the room, his other men, speechless, standing

behind him. He turned around to leave the room, pushing one of his men out of the

way as he did so. The young commander walked quickly down the hall towards the

control room to unseal the spaceport doors. He tried as hard as he could to distract

himself from the traumatic events that had unfolded only minutes before, but the

guilt was just too much. He sobbed violently as he ended the spaceports lockdown,

then he reached down drawing his sidearm and lifted it to his temple, pulling the

trigger.




© Copyright 2007 J. Martin-Caswell (d3adlyc0d3c at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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