Escapees
The darkness of the sky showed the shimmering sparkles of the stars, yet there were only a few that decorated the nightly heavens. The large quarter moon brightly shone with its white halo, looking down on the empty space of earth below; however, the emptiness was soon interrupted when a foreign ship came hurtling from a faraway distance through the planet’s atmosphere. It crash landed into the deepest parts of the canyon, surrounded by large walls of red rocks that took different forms and shapes from the years of weathering.
The ship formed a crater, piercing into the earth with its nose. Inside, it was an empty vessel, but showed the advanced technologies of a navigation system that had foreign switches and labels of language all over the control board with two passenger seats. Surrounding the ship were large trucks and cars of a military squad, the logo on these trucks showed a large, grey-colored letter-G on the door of the truck with orange and white filling the space to trace beside the letter. The logo represented a well-known military organization known as the Galaxy Garrison, which is popular for training future military officers for space travel and space affairs.
An older man, wearing a formal, Galaxy Garrison officer uniform—a grey coat with a mandarin collar and pockets. The coat has black piping and buttons up near his right breast pocket while his shoulders were decorated with golden stripes of four on each. A red crescent of the Garrison’s logo decorated his left sleeve—which he proudly wore. His silver hair, cut into a clean-shaven buzzcut, hid underneath the hat he wore that also had the crescent logo. However, his expression was sour, making anyone nervous just by a single glance. His eyebrows wrinkled cruelly while his lips were tightly pressed together to form a thin line. His eyes were blue—gorgeous hues but darkened from how he glowered at anything and anyone. A man that had a reputation in battle, which a telling scar wrapped around his neck marked him from his unknown history. The mismatch scar contrasted his warm flesh, but even if someone mentions it, the old man would burn with rage and do unthinkable things as punishment. He was ruthless, even the earth trembled when he walked.
He is the Marshal—Marshal Herbert Wade.
He was leaving his royal carriage of a large, six-wheel vehicle that was green with large windows that were darkly tinted. His heavy boot hit the earth, making his presence known to the other official guards that were quarantining the area. There were large tents of white scattered about, sitting next to the parked trunks with poles of lights beaming down at the crashed ship. Soldiers of different divisions came and were all wearing white, masked hazmat suits with devices held in their hands.
“Sir!” a couple of guards greeting him, saluting.
“At ease,” the voice of the Marshal rumbled. “Status report.”
“A ship crashed, sir!” one of the young soldiers told him.
The marshal’s intense eyes narrowed at the young soldier, and the look made the soldier turn to stone. “I know it did. Do you take me for a dumbass! Tell me about it!”
The second soldier spoke up, noticing how his partner was frozen stiff with frightened silence. “The ship is unidentifiable with our system, sir. It is alien, yet we are running tests—”
“Running tests?'' The Marshal rose his voice, his towering figure leaning over the young soldiers. “There ain’t no time for tests! I didn’t come here to chit chat and sit on my ass! You take that damn thing and bring it to base!”
“But, sir, the tests are to see if the ship can be toxic because of—”
“I don’t care about the technicalities, soldier!” Marshal Wade boomed, aiming his pointed finger at the alien ship. “You bring that ship to our base so we can dissect it in our territory! Do you get it!”
“Right, sir! But, we also have to report that upon arriving at here location, we encountered the two passengers of the alien aircraft,” the soldier quickly spoke.
This peaked the marshal’s curiosity, like a feline cat, his ears twitched. “Two passengers?” he wondered.
The soldier nodded. “Yes, sir. They were armored and they had great weapons, but one appeared severely injured. We tried to defend ourselves, but it wasn’t like anything we encountered before…not since the Galra invaded, sir.”
The marshal pushed passed the two soldiers, his heavy boots hitting against the dirt of the earth. He was heading towards the aircraft to get a better look. Multiple soldiers warned him to wear the suit, but he decided to push them away and continue forward. “Did you capture the trespassers?” the marshall’s voice boomed as he asked.
The soldiers tried to keep up with the rapid pace of their marshal. “No, sir. They fled.”
“Damn aliens. They’re cowards,” the marshal bitterly claimed with his fists clenched tightly by his sides.
Gushes of wind and loud humming of running blades of incoming aircrafts rustled the air around them. The marshal gazed up, wincing when a bright white spotlight flashed down on him, blinding him. The aircraft resembled helicopters, but the blades were on the wings of the aircraft. The metal was dark, blending in with the night sky with two blinking lights at each wing of the craft.
“Well, shit,” the marshal deadpanned. “They’re here.”
In the distance, black vehicles picking up dirt off the empty canyon came hurling. Their brakes screeching, they halted and parked next to the Galactic Garrison military vehicles. The cars wore no labels like the Galactic Garrison military vehicles, and their windows were darkly tinted it reflected the outer world around them.
From the bright lights of the vehicles, darkened figures emerged. There were figures of unidentifiable people with suits — black suits—and they wore sunglasses with thick, dark lenses. They stood still and tall, their hands behind their backs.
These were members of a secret operative organization that worked underneath the Galactic Alliance of the Republic, the new political system that overrules the entire universe. Ever since the invasion with the Galra, after the war, the Coalition formed a board, but it was a lot to handle for a small group so a larger group was formed—the Universal Galactic Alliance of the Republic, or the G.A.R for short. Each sector of the universe is ruled by one head representative, and there are seven of them. These seven collaborate with the Galactic Coalition to form laws for the government, along with economic security. They are the umbrella of the galaxy—without them, a lot of disorder would erupt and the balance of the universe will crumble.
These new laws were set for the new political system like every alien immigrant traveling to a different sector that was not of their origin must have a pass or form of I.D. For travel authorization. They even changed the Galran Empire’s currency to a more universally different currency—Galactic Gullan, or G.G. for short.
Nevertheless, the Coalition has the ambassadors that work like messengers and doers of any demand the representatives’ order, and they are the ones that maintain the peace of the universe. In addition, there are two ambassadors that are assigned to each sector under one representative. Moreover, if there is an alien, Homosapien or other, that disrupts the peace of the universe—either breaking any of the G.A.R’s laws like illegal residency for any alien immigrant without proper identification, the ambassadors of the Coalition would be enforced to send out their own secret personnel to have it handled and investigated.
And that is what they are here to do.
One of the aircrafts landed onto the earth, the engines of the ship whirred and hummed as it powered down, and the metals cranking and clunking while the gears relaxed. The marshal narrowed his blue orbs at the aircraft while his young soldiers stood behind him, peeping over his shoulder with nervous gazes.
A rear ramp of the aircraft hissed open and whirred while it slowly lowered onto the red dirt of the canyon, revealing several more figures in the shadows of the rear hangar. Soldiers wearing uniforms—navy coats with black cargo pants with high leather boots—marched forward with weapons in their hands. They had a symbol on their right sleeve—the symbol of the Galactic Alliance Officers—was a golden star with six smaller stars around—the symbol of the seven representatives that form the alliance.
However, a tall figure walked down the ramp, the heels of her boots clanking against the metal. Her uniform was dark grey with lights that were neon purple, glowing and bouncing off her shining armor. She wore a sash that wrapped around her torso and tied around her waist while a sheath hang by her side with a small blade inside.
Once her figure emerged from the shadows and into the bright lights from the light posts, she stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the soldiers and black-suits that gathered around her. Her skin was like lavender from lilac petals, her hair was a dark violet that was cut short and stuck out at the back with bangs that were unevenly cut that sweep to the left side of her face. Her beauty was not of elegance but of strength like a lioness. Her sharp eyes shone with fierceness of her feminine beauty. Her posture was confident and stoic, holding her head high as she walked, and she walked with a purpose and with strength. The soldiers that crowded were pushed by an invisible force, making a path for her as she continued to lead the way.
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“Ambassador Krolia,” Marshal Wade greeted without any sound of a warm welcome in his voice.
“Marshal,” Krolia formally greeted him.
“Where’s your friend?” Wade wondered with hint of mocking.
Krolia narrowed her eyes. “Busy.”
She towered over him, casting a shadow over the marshal because of her strong build and stature. Marshal didn’t waver. It was like a battle between them—an unspoken one—of who held more power, but it was more of the Marshal’s own sense of pride and ego that caused him to simmer with anger and feel there was a battle in the first place.
Krolia scanned the area, noticing the Galactic Garrison officials crowding around with devices in their hands and their wide-eyed expressions staring at her. Her sharp eyes was able to glimpse a crashed ship, only getting a glimpse of its outside appearance. It was obvious this investigation was proceeded without any sort of authorization.
“I ask you what you think you’re doing, Marshal Wade?” Krolia asked, her hands pressed on her hips.
“I believe that is not any of your concern, Ambassador. This is our jurisdiction and territory for investigation,” the marshal responded, stepping closer to face the tall alien.
“If I recall, the Galactic Alliance of the Republic works above all sectors—including yours. The Ambassadors of the Coalition were authorized for this investigation, so pull your soldiers back.”
He scoffed, “Galactic Alliance of the Republic. You guys are a joke. Galactic Garrison handled extraterrestrials way before your kind came into the picture.”
“Well, then, see this as us taking it off your hands,” Krolia replied. She looked over her shoulder and nodded her head, motioning her personnel to proceed forward.
The one in suits marched, all in unison like robots, carrying their metal briefcases and tools with them as they forced their ways through the crowd of soldiers in hazmat suits. The Galactic Alliance officers stood guard, their eyes watching Wade’s personnel with studying gazes. They were like a wall, blocking the soldiers from proceeding forward into the scene.
Krolia pushed past the marshal, taking her steps forward to see the craft.
“The trespassers are still out there, you know,” Marshal Wade stated.
Krolia gave him a passive smile over her shoulder. “I believe that is no longer your concern, Marshal Wade.”
◆
The hovering of sounds of foreign ships echoed just outside, but two bodies hid in the deepest shadows of a cave that looked out to the empty canyon. White lights scanned the area, peeking the light barely inside the cave.
There was a soldier, wearing a spacesuit of a light metal that replicated a more modern suit of armor. It was shaped for his body, simply appearing like a thick skin over the host that wore it; however, his arm was greatly injured from battling the aliens of this planet earlier. They chased him through the canyon until they were able to escape and hide inside of this cave. His helmet had two round lenses that resembled the mask’s eyes that allowed the soldier to see through. Intricate language that doesn’t originate from the foreign planet appeared on the visual display, showing his vitals and the stats of the outside world that was completely strange to him.
The hovering of the foreign ships and lights vanished until the soldier felt comfortable enough to know that the coast was clear.
“Seems this planet is quite hostile,” The soldier’s voice was robotic through the microphone of the helmet. “Are you sure this planet is it?”
A young girl, a royal, once princess-now-queen, sat closely behind him, holding onto her side from a great wound that wasn’t from this planet’s, spoke, “I’m sure.”
The soldier stood up from his crouching position, allowing his lenses to scan the area around him. Pieces of information was gathered from his scan, showing that most of the cave was just rock with no sign of life inside.
There was a word that was completely foreign to him: Limestone. The entire cave was covered in a deep shade of red rock called that, and the soldier never heard about it before. He commanded his suit for further analysis of this ‘limestone’.
“A sturdy mineral that is composed of calcium carbonate. Typically found on planet Earth, limestone rocks fall under the category of sedimentary rocks that are made from mineral calcite.”
The soldier hummed, intrigued by this new piece of information. He saved it inside of his log. As any soldier, gathering new piece of information is a step further into knowing the enemy and their terrain.
“I think we can be able to form a temporary base of operations until we can regain ourselves. We don’t even know where we are,” the soldier stated factually. He walked to the wall of the cave, the metal finger of his suit chipping away at the rock to see pieces of it crumble to the ground.
He heard a soft click and a hiss echo behind him causing the soldier to turn to look over his shoulder. The soldier noticed the young queen taking off her helmet. An alarm of warning blared inside his mind causing the soldier to quickly move his feet and taking off his own helmet as he held in a deep breath.
“Wait, Esme!” the young queen yelled out.
But, just as any soldier who is ordered on a mission, Esme took no regard to the queen’s protest. His mission was to protect the queen at all costs, even if it is sacrificing his own life for her to be saved. His helmet, even if it was a tight fit on the queen’s head due to the thick curls of her black hair, was shoved on, and the young soldier’s face began turning into different shades of colors as he struggled to breathe. He fell onto his knees, wrapping his armored hands around his neck as he let out a large gasp of air.
The soldier’s face was revealed to show dark skin, almost like dark chocolate, that held sharp features of chiseled cheek bones with a thick frame of black eyebrows over a pair of dark, deep-set eyes that studied everything around him and glared at anything by instinct. His hair was thick, black like the darkest night that he always combed back, but strays of loose strands formed into bangs that framed each side of his face, but he would push it back behind his pair of pointed-ears. He was handsome, there is no doubt, but the strong features he wore with his intense expression had him appear rather intimidating rather than welcoming.
The soldier realized that he could breathe without his eyes popping out of his sockets. Feeling a bit foolish for a quick moment, the soldier stared at the eyes of his helmet to see the orbs of the queen glaring at him.
“Are you crazy! You could’ve died!” Esme told his queen.
The queen, groaning and wincing, pulled the helmet from her head, letting it hiss as the air inside it gushed out. Her thick locks fell down gracefully over her space suit, the curls of her hair bouncing. Her skin was dark, but much lighter than the soldier’s, just like the richest of milk chocolate that any royal would drool after. Her beauty was immaculate, almost like she was a rare gem—which she was. Her face was like a heart, the widow’s peak pointing down her forehead to form the imaginary line of symmetry of her face. Her lips were full, yet balanced, with a small cupid’s bow that made her lips look gently pursed if she smiled. Her brows were thin and dark and framed her face and hooked over her eyes. They were round and blue with light-colored irises that resembled nebulas of a galaxy. She would always be found with eyes that were dreamy and warming, but they stared at the soldier like a storm was brewing inside.
“My suit analyzed the atmosphere. I am fine,” she told him with a frown. She handed the helmet back to the soldier a bit too harshly.
“That’s good to hear, your Majesty, but Orion had ordered me to have responsibility over your safety,” Esme sternly said, letting the helmet rest against his side as he held it. “You can’t do anything rash like that without my own say so.”
The young queen gapped at his bold statement. “By your own say so? I beg your pardon, but I am able to do anything I wish on my own accord. Of course, I wouldn’t be an idiot and act irrationally. I’m not some dumb princ—queen that you may think I am.”
With some resistance of the stinging pain that she felt on her side, the young queen stumbled up from the cold, hard ground of the dark cave. Resting her hand against the wall, she lifted each of her heavy feet to move forward. Her legs were like noodles and her vision gave her a sense of being underwater while her breaths were staggered and grasping onto each inhale of life into her aching lungs.
“Where are you going?” the soldier asked, watching her walking away.
“Home,” she breathed out.
“Wait, you can’t! Your mother sent us here for a reason—to find the old paladins!”
“I can’t sit around and know that my home is being overtaken by the Revolts—those murderers! My people need me, and I can’t help them if I am here.”
“You are injured! You can barely even stand! You are needed here to be kept safe until you fully recover, and once we find those paladins, we can secure the future of Periana!”
The queen’s eyes shot daggers at the soldier, and once, underneath the moonlight from the night sky, the soldier could see the dark shadows underneath her eyes that weighed down to take form of large bags. Her dark skin was drained of color, paling more from the white light of the moon. The alarm inside the soldier’s head was not ringing, but it was still flashing the red light of warning that something is not right with his queen.
“Don’t preach to me about what is secure for my home planet! Don’t think I don’t know about you, Esme Apurva. My mother and Orion told me many stories about you and your rebellious streak.”
The soldier didn’t like what the queen had to say about him, making his blood boil with rage. His eyes narrowed at the queen, a static of tension between their meeting eyes, but the soldier had to turn his gaze away for a second to let his blood simmer. He was too enraged to say anything, letting the thick silence of the cool night fill between them while the crickets chirped.
“I don’t understand why Orion would entrust you with this mission,” Marina bitterly muttered under her breath, leaning against the walls of the cave.
There was a sharp pain that left a burning trail inside her right side, piercing through her chest and stabbing into her heart. A gasp of air escaped Marina’s lips as her weak legs fell beneath her like shattered glass.
“Marina!” Esme called out to her in an urgent voice.
Marina’s world was darkening, and she wasn’t sure about what was happening. It was like the world around her was slowly vanishing inside the darkness of her vision, getting swallowed up into the empty space of her mind. The sounds of the world drowned out into the sea of nothingness, and the pain that Marina’s body felt slowly vanished and she felt a lot lighter.
“Marina!” an echo called out to her, but Marina was too lost in the darkness to reach out towards it.