by Justin Bell
"Indeed," Gragson replies, his lipless mouth splitting into a horrific grin, revealing scattered pointed teeth.
"No!" I scream. "They can't! Hundreds of . . . they'll die!" I almost said 'my people'. But they're not my people. Are they? My head is swimming.
Gragson turns and looks at me, his yellow eyes narrowing under the scaled bulge of thickened skin. "We are at war, Ms. Northstar. I thought you realized this."
"I'll turn myself in," I whisper. "I'll hand myself back over. This doesn't have to happen."
But it already has.
Above us, the massive cruiser angles left and bursts of light bloom across its side. Dozens of mini-cannons erupt into silent plasma blasts across the vacant space. Those glowing stars of spacecraft begin to wink out. There's no stopping it.
It's so ephemeral up here, not quite real. The view out of the canopy might as well be the view screen of actors in a well-orchestrated show with special effects.
A series of poofs, one right after the other, signals the violent end of scattered Athelonian star fighters. The cruiser fires towards the group, wiping living creatures from existence in a manner of seconds.
I can't move. I don't want to see this. Whatever my heritage is, whatever my genetic make-up is, I grew up on Athelon, lived there for eighteen cycles and, like it or not, these are my people who are being blasted to so much space dust in front of my eyes.
My feet are attached to the floor as if rooted there, intertwined with a complex systems of the ship. I want to turn and run, to bury my head, to pretend I'm not seeing this mass destruction, but there's no getting around it. There is no avoiding the carnage that is happening real time, right before my eyes.
"I can't watch this," I say quietly, though my eyes remain glued where they are.
Gragson smirks again, flashing that frustrating, cockeyed, reptile grin of yellowed teeth. "These are not your people," he hisses, as if reading my mind. "These are your enemies. They want you imprisoned or dead. You mean nothing to them."
I shake my head. My body is numb. My eyes mere windows to whatever horrors are occurring before me.
In the darkness of space ahead the energy beams multiply, filling almost every empty void with burnt light, smashing apart the entire wall of approaching Athelonian star fighters. Where three minutes ago there was half a fleet of Athelonian spacecraft, there is now a belt of broken metal, shattered glass, and undoubtedly floating corpses. Hundreds of living pilots are now reduced to debris.
"They are not your people!" Gragson shouts at me, snapping me out of my trance. I whip my head around, blinking and trying to refocus.
"I know," I reply. "I know. I do."
Gragson stands up from his seat and takes a step towards me, pressing his palms into my shoulders. Not hard, but firmly. "In a few minutes the Rolixander will fire its tractor beam and take us on board. Are you ready to be with us, Brie Northstar?"
Truth is, I'm not ready. I don't know what any of this means, but what choice do I have?
I nod my head. It feels like a gesture of finality. "I'm ready."
Almost on cue the ship jolts and shakes, then starts rising up through space. The battle cruiser grows larger, looming above the small jump ship that a few moments ago felt much larger than it does now. We are being dragged along like a ragged blanket trailing behind an unaware child.
A shrill shriek from the cockpit draws all of our attention, snapping our heads around in unison.
"What is that?" I ask.
Gragson draws in a rattling breath as he stumbles towards the scanner screen.
"No!"
"What?"
"We left the long range scanner on... it's picking up something! Something . . . huge!"
Through the window, a horizontal beam of white light splits the darkness of space like a scalpel. Before the shrouded shape within can even form, a second light scorches from the darkened segment of space, hurtling towards the looming battle cruiser above us.
Space is noiseless, but I can imagine the thundering sound of impacting plasma on the large cruiser above us, as it surges backwards under the onslaught, spraying metal and fuel out into space. Barely holding together, the cruiser adjusts its position and unleashes its own barrage of plasma streaking back towards its attacker.
The jump ship jolts then starts to drift backwards. "The tractor beam let us go!" shouts Luxen.
Gragson scrambles to the controls. "They must have diverted power to weapons systems! We're adrift!"
All around us, space is brightening with the flashes of ignited energy. I didn't even realize Athelon had a ship that large. It's visible now, some kind of mammoth battle ship moving in closer. It's still must be kilometers away, but it already looks so huge, even in the distance.
I can see energy beams from the Bragdon ship scattering along the smooth hull of the other cruiser. The sparks of light flash along the edge in uneven, staccato patterns.
"This whole sector is going to be on fire soon," one of the Bragdon officers growls as he glances over his shoulder towards a side window.
He's right. These cruisers are huge... the size of a thousand star fighters and already they've filled the space between them with white hot plasma. All around us space is rippling with the heat, I can see a light red glow coming from the surface of the jump ship. Even if we don't get hit by stray plasma, this whole ship could break apart.
"Oh no," Gragson mutters from the front cockpit. I'm not at all comfortable with his tone of voice.
"What?" I ask, starting to move forward, trying to ignore the rising temperature inside the ship and the brightening space outside.
"Those aren't Athelonians... that cruiser is from Reblox."
"Reblox?" I ask. Eighteen cycles without seeing a Reblon and now they're everywhere. "Why?"
Gragson turns towards me. "Why do you think?"
"I don't know! I don't know anything!"
He chuckles. The scale faced reptile jerk actually chuckles.
"Is something funny?" I ask. "I'm glad you find this situation funny. This is my life!"
Okay, maybe I'm a little overemotional. Teenagers are like that, right?
Well, teenage Athelonians are. Who the heck knows what teenage Bragdons are like. I can't even deal with this right now.
"Calm yourself, Brie Northstar," he replies without even looking at me. "I meant no offense."
He moves one of his hands to a lever and presses it upwards, towards the window. All around us, there's the low, increasing hum of machinery and the lights running above and below us drift on.
"If the Reblons are here," Gragson says. "Nothing about this is funny. And we need to make ourselves scarce."
Chapter Three
The Reblons. Why the Reblons? I find myself gazing out into space, watching the two battle cruisers navigate outer space. They are facing off against each other like two opponents in a fighting ring, circling, threatening, and exchanging blows, but landing no knock-out punch.
. . . At least not yet. If one of these cruisers does get knocked out, the explosion will decimate this little jump ship. It won't even be a contest.
"You seem to know some things," I say to Gragson, turning towards the pilot's seat. "Why the secrecy?"
Gragson continues to adjust dials on the console in front of him, not even acknowledging what I say.
"Gragson!" I shout.
"I'm trying to save our lives!" he shouts back, at least glancing over his shoulder at me this time.
As he twists another dial and eases a second joystick down, the jump ship begins to move, with thrusters firing low and rattling behind us.
"I've diverted power from life support back to propulsion, don't get too excited you'll use up all of our air supply."
I steady myself as the ship pushes forward, dipping right and away from the two battle cruisers.
"You're a myth among our people." I turn my head as Luxen approaches. He stands there, looking at me with a sense of awe in his eyes.
"What?"
I look at Luxen in confusion. "How can I be a myth? I'm only eighteen cycles old."
"You, or what you represent . . . What you might be. There is a myth long told among Bragdons, and many of us believe you are the myth made real."
I drop to a cushioned seat on one side of the center aisle. "Tell me more, Luxen," I ask. "Please. I need to understand."
He walks over and sits across the isle from me. "I don't know the whole story. I don't even know why they're so convinced you are who they think you are."
"Who do they think I am?"
Luxen looks up at me, his yellow eyes wide and mouth spread into a slight smile. I can't quite explain the look, but it almost looks like admiration.
Luxen speaks like one far older than he appears. "The three planets of the Yarda Quadrant have been at war for generations," he says. "Athelonians never learn of this because the government shelters its people by fighting their war in space where the population cannot see."
"BRAGDONS ARE NOTHING but tools of Athelon and Reblon. We are living weapons they use to attack each other. Both sides take advantage of our abilities. We are caught in the middle."
"So this war is mostly between Reblon and Athelon?"
Luxen nods. "Reblon is the banking planet. Athelonians are the laborers. There are hard feelings there."
"What does this have to do with me?"
Luxen's eyes dart and flicker. "I'm not entirely sure, Brie. But I know the story of the girl."
"So tell me. Obviously they don't teach this in Athelonian schools."
"The tale tells of a girl from the stars, a girl with magical powers who will unite the quadrant."
I stand up, a sense of confinement quickening my heart rate. A ship that was more than large enough ten minutes ago now seems to resemble a sloped, metal coffin. Beads of sweat pool on my forehead, the tiny bubbles of perspiration collecting into a thin sheen of moisture.
"Brie," Luxen says, starting to stand.
"Stop," I say, a little more firm than I mean to. I turn towards him. "I'm just a girl, okay? That's all. I'm not some magical being from the stars. I'm just me."
Around us, the hum of machinery grows louder and the ship pitches right, throwing me off balance.
"Gragson!" I shout up to him. "Take me back. I want to go home."
The urge to go back to living my peaceful Athelonian existence is more than I can tolerate. I'm confined in this metal box and I want to get out, I want to go home. I want to go back to the safety of my room, back to the love of my parents.
"You are home, Brie Northstar," he growls back at me. "Athelon was never your home."
I can't take it anymore. Before I even realize what's happening, I'm throwing myself down the corridor, moving at a swift sprint towards the opened door to the cockpit. Bragons move in from my right and left, grasping my arms.
Even as I'm moving, I torque my waist and swivel right, lifting the Bragdon on my left off his feet and slamming his back down onto the metal floor of the corridor. The soldier to my right pushes forward, moving me across the hall and drilling me back into the curved metallic surface of the cargo compartment, pinning me there.
"Stop this!" Gragson screams back at me. "We are on the same side!"
"You keep telling me that!" I scream back. "I don't even know which side that is!"
Gragson turns towards me, his yellow eyes split wide, the irises snapping. "The side of unification! The side of peace. That is our side."
His words settle like a fine mist on the grass glistening in the early morning sun... soothing. My racing heart settles if just a little.
"Peace?" I ask. "How can I be sure of that?"
His eyes narrow a bit, his face becoming more calm as he moves away from the console, letting the ship press onward. Outside the front window, the area is clear except for an asteroid dead center which grows larger by the second.
"For generations Reblon and Athelon have surround us, pinning us between them. For longer than our history books can report, we have been used as weapons. Reblons capture us and twist our minds to use us against Athelon. Athelon strikes back by threatening our people, making demands, and using us against Reblox. We just want to live our lives."
The Bragdon continues to press on me, holding me to the wall. I'm not fighting back, I don't have the will to fight back anymore. There's been so much violence already. How many have died?
"I still don't know what this has to do with me."
Gragson takes another step closer, but my eyes fixate on the asteroid in the window. It still grows larger, no longer a marble, but now a small ball.
"Honestly," Gragson continues, "I'm not sure either. I'm hoping we can all find answers together."
I shake my head. "How?"
"The Elders," Gragson says. "There are Bragdon Elders who live for thousands of years. They may be able to tell us what you want to know."
"Elders?" I ask. "We're going back to Braxis?" Yeah, that's the last place I want to be right now. Those swamp lands were not kind to my skin or my hair.
Gragson smiles. It's a surprisingly warm smile for such a hard creature. His thick, gray skin seems to crack with it. "They are not all on Braxis, Brie Northstar," he says. "Some are isolated, separated."
Turning back towards the window, he watches as the asteroid grows nearer. "There," he says, extending one of his long, thick fingers. "We have some Elders there."
"On an asteroid?" I ask.
He looks at me again. "An asteroid created by the Bragdons. Disguised. Meant to hide some of our most important secrets. A clan of Elders live in silence and isolation, without fear of destruction."
"But why?"
He walks towards the console and starts adjusting controls, slowing the ship and guiding it more specifically towards the floating rock.
"As I said, for centuries, our very existence has been threatened by the other planets in the Yarda Quadrant. We have constant fear for our safety."
Easing the joy stick forward, the ship dips and accelerates, bringing the jump ship around into a more gradual descent towards the rocky sphere ahead.
"We had to ensure that our teachings would survive, and that our civilization would not cease to exist. Someone must remain to continue telling the prophecy."
"And you're taking me there?" I ask.
"I see no other way," Gragson replies. "The Elders on Braxis speak of your importance, but this ship cannot get us there. We wouldn't survive in space between those two cruisers. This is what must happen."
The rock grows larger as the ship descends. Around me the spacecraft thrashes as we break this strange atmosphere. How does an asteroid have an atmosphere? What is going on here?
Gragson claims the Elders will have answers, but all I can see are more questions.
My urge to go back to Athelon has not abated.
Chapter Four
The marble is far from a marble now, and in fact has become the rocky horizon of jump ship. That horizon seems to jostles back and forth as a strange false atmosphere grabs hold and throttles us like an angry kid.
"How does this asteroid have actual atmosphere?" I ask, my fingers wrapped around a handle screwed into the bulkhead. "What is this place?"
"It's neutral ground, Brie Northstar!" Gragson shouts back at me over the insistent chimes of the ships warning bells and shaking rattle of metal. "A haven for a remote clan of Elders!"
"Doesn't seem all that safe!" I shout back as the ship lurches downward, and hesitates before surging onward. I wince as small, floating rocks pelt the outsides.
Below us I can see the jagged, rock encrusted hide of the piece of glorified space debris enlarging as if spreading its arms wide to grab us and draw us into its gaping maw.
"It's considerably safer on the surface," Gragson replies as the ship passes through another layer of meteoroid infested debris fields.
Sure . . . safe on the surface, assuming we can actually land this bucket of bolts on the surface in one piece. No guarantees of that.
&nb
sp; Somehow the jump ship batters its way through another barrage, rocking as space debris and stones smack the sides, banging off the hull.
The surface is rushing up towards us, looking like a series of rocky boulders shoved together into uneven peaks and jagged valleys. The twisted abomination of a mountain range leaves only small patches of flat land here and there. The entire surface of the rock is various shades of gray with no vegetation, no visible water, and nothing else except clumps of broken asteroid.
Up ahead I see a rocky mound with a rounded hole dug into its base. The jump ship dips down, then skips back up. The drastic shift in momentum throws me from my feet.
Thrusters roar underneath as the ship begins lowering towards the unforgiving surface. As we get closer to the surface, I see that my early estimation was wrong. There is water. It's just slate gray and calm, blending in with the rest of the unpredictable terrain. The various ponds and lakes are broken up by ridges shooting up from the surface to split the bodies of water into two or three parts, as if to separate herds of animals.
The ship hits the ground with a jolt.
"Apologies," Gragson mutters. He stands from the controls and turns towards us. "We have arrived."
"Are you going to tell me about this place yet?" I ask.
"We call it Braxis Minor," Gragson replies, as he walks back towards me with two other Bragdons falling in behind him.
"We made this artificial asteroid to protect our Elders. It has concealed pillars to support the higher mountains and large living chambers inside. An artificial atmosphere is generated to provide protection and mimic our home world."
All around us the machinery winds down, reducing to a quiet, low-pitched hum as the lights flicker above, then blink out. Out through the windows I can see the hill with the cave quite a distance away over rocky, watery terrain.