Quadrant FOS-1
Sector-108, Zemlax Nirtropic
Planet Enoich-0
3 Years Ago
Snow continued to whisk and pillage a hilled tundra, already covered several feet high. The skies held a light-blue hue, darkening pink as it spread into the horizon, though barely seen through the swirling ice encapsulating the air.
On a flatter terrain, looking above the swaying hills of white, was a shoveled cube-shaped space with just enough area for the fifty bouabrou standing in rows of ten by five.
Each wore uniform-black hex-ridded coveralls with white spandex-like fitting covering the rest of their exposed limbs. However, not even that could help from the brisk winds hitting them at all angles.
A Farca, a white-furred beast with piercing green eyes and horns sticking from their elbows and hindlegs, walked through the ranks with his arms crossed behind his back. His coveralls, distinct from the rest, were all-black, the upper portion tied around his waist due to his massive muscular frame.
He walked down the middle row and stopped in front of a Nurmen, a four-eyed bourta’n with slick-black skin and skimpy arms and legs. The Nurmen, shivering profusely, fell to the ground; Their heavy wheezes drawing in the white-blue-tinted snow as they attempted to claw their way back up from the ground.
“Reese’nasurac.” The Farcanian uttered, locking eyes with the fallen trainee. “What a disappointment.”
The Nurmen sputtered and gasped, coughing up blood-covered snow before lowering his head into the snow with a final croak.
“Be warned, troopies!” The Farcanian’s voice echoed throughout the tundra. “The snow and air is covered with micro-tendrils that are dangerous to inhale. You may survive if a few get stuck in your throat, but once they reach your lungs, you’re finished. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Com-Tra Reesha!” The rest of the trainees responded in unison.
Com-Tra Reesha then stepped over the Nurmen, his corpse now covered by a hill of snow, and continued down the track with several larger mounds along the row.
A Draraxub bano’n with a long-horned snout, green-scaled skin, and a black mane wrapped into a bun sat at attention in the backmost row. Though most rows had at least four fallen trainees, her row had all but three standing, including herself.
On her right was an A’foit near-human bano’n with smoky-white skin and messy black hair becoming vibrantly multi-colored at the ends. Her heterochromia eyes, one blue and the other pink, were the main colors of the ink scattered across her face in the shape of lines, brush strokes, and spirals like an abstract street piece.
The A’foit glanced to the side, then did a double-take to the young girl standing at her side. The young girl’s brown locks were shrouded with snow. She folded her legs and arms inward, shivering with squinting eyes.
“M-Miya… Hold on… We’re almost done with our morning—“
“Tsk.” The Draraxub cut her off with a smack of her teeth. “Leave the half-bred Ya’valt be. If they fall, then we’ll just share her morning rations.”
Miya opened one eye, attempting to smile with a hoarse cough spewing from her throat. “I-It’s okay, Uryn… I-I’m fine, just—“
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She fell head first into the snow with a brief spasm.
“Miya!” Uryn dropped down and began shaking Miya, to no avail. “You’ve gotta wake up! You’ve gotta—“
“Dendurr’a! Idiots, get up!” Rae whispered with a lick of her forked black tongue. “The Com-Tra is—“
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Rae and Uryn jumped back to attention as Com-Tra Reesha entered their row. He walked past the two bano’n, barely giving them a glimpse, before stopping a few inches before Miya. She looked up at him with gritted teeth, her nails clawing into the snow.
“We have another breskah, an offering to the Goddess Reskurem.” He chuckled, kicking a pile of snow on Miya’s head as he walked past. “Join the rest of your comrades. Give in to the cold, itura.”
Miya pulled herself up onto her forearms and knees, covering her mouth and nose with her hand with puffy-red eyes. The Com-Tra looked back with a huff as she rose to her feet, then stood at attention. Her eyes were blank, with a crimson gleam protruding from her irises.
Rae snorted, then looked to the side with a sigh of relief. Uryn smiled before shaking her head and returning to a neutral face.
“Good. Any more casualties, and I would’ve had to leave you all out here for the monarl.” Com-Tra Reesha rasped, then continued walking down the line.
Uryn nudged Miya on the elbow with a grin. “We’ll always be a team, so don’t leave me behind. Okay?”
Miya nudged her back and nodded. “O-okay…”
. . .
A metal churn resonated through the walls, filling the silence as Miya’s grin reflected in C-Larka’s opaque black helmet.
“You know, I should thank you,” Miya disclosed while twirling her gun by the trigger guard. “Since you went rogue that day, I was given Crux Nagia and graduated with full honors.”
“You were just a stepping stone to claim what’s rightfully mine. You never anything more to me, bestarfa.”
C-Larka looked down at the floor, then lifted their head. Their opaque mask faded in hexagonal ripples, revealing her oatmeal-complexioned face etched with pink, blue, and multi-colored markings and blotches. Her hair, flowing down her back, had its ends streaked like a vibrant rainbow, while her eyes were just as colorful.
She walked in front of Miya and placed a hand on her chest, trailed down, put two fingers on her neck, and a knuckle onto her forehead. (I wished we had a bit more time to talk. I didn’t mean to hurt you in the end, Miya. I’ve missed you.)
Miya scrunched her eyes, then pushed her back before slamming her foot onto the ground. “No. No! You don’t get to say that to me! You can never know what—“
Uryn balled her fists at her sides, and beads of tears began building beneath her eyelashes. Miya opened her mouth, then clenched it shut.
“You think you get to cry right now? You, of all people?” Miya nudged her gun’s nozzle into Uryn’s chest with a glare. “You said that we’d graduate together. And that we’d become officers and find out who killed your… your…”
Miya chuckled while shaking her head. “But after murdering a Com-Tra and getting a CrimeStat of Asowal, you’re pretty much just a walking corpse.”
Uryn waved her hand in front of her face, creating an ionic field that deflected a blue ray from Miya’s gun. She then jumped back, deflecting multiple shots from Miya’s laser submachine as the room boomed with ear-ringing gunfire and blinding blue beams.
Mid-shot, Miya lowered her gun, its body shortening to a 6-inch barrel, darkening to a midnight blue, with sharp-razor edges on the sides acting as its muzzle and coolers — Masacre-14.
She then raised it, firing a slender black beam that collided with Uryn’s ionic shield, shattering it and pushing her back. She looked down at her hand and rubbed her wrist with a glare.
Miya held her gun in front of her, spreading her feet apart. “You think I’d be glad to see you? No. You’re a cricker now, and my main concern is either killing you or incapacitating you for questioning. You can surrender, or I’ll be forced to—”
Despite being several feet apart, Uryn covered the distance between them in seconds, diving below Miya’s revolver. Miya took a step back, attempting to react, but was too slow, as Uryn dug three fingers into her abdomen, then a two-knuckled fist into her right arm.
Miya winced, then pushed her back against the wall. Her vision became a series of distorted blue lines and white light as she shook her head. She stood up with quivering knees and threw a haymaker punch with her entire body behind her. However, Uryn caught her first and nudged her knuckles into her wrist, lower arm, and rib, causing Miya’s arm to fall limp and a wheeze to fill her throat.
Miya then fell to the floor, attempting to move her arms, to no avail. Uryn bent down with a smirk, drawing a set of circles on Miya’s chest and neck, then nudging her on both cheeks with a tap on her wrist. (You always skipped arm-to-arm combat training to go train with your guns. Guess it's not doing much for you now, is it)
“Shut up. I’m going to—“ Miya slumped onto the floor, face first. A growl raised out of her throat until she performed a furious wail. She slammed her head on the floor, causing blood to spill from her noggin.
Uryn pushed her up and nodded with concerned, tear-verging eyes. She traced a set of symbols onto her stomach, then placed her head on Miya’s shoulder. (You’ve changed… What did they do to you, little one?)
Miya growled once more. “I’m. Going. To kill. You.”
Her eyes glinted a ruby gleam as if portraying the blood lust behind her words.
Uryn backed away, wiping the growing trail of blood from Miya’s noggin. She placed her hand on Miya’s chest and clenched down onto hers. (I hope we meet again, under different circumstances, little one.)
Miya’s vision became hazed, watching as Uryn took a few steps back, then vanished altogether.