Lanada received a punch to the face, the first in a long time. The shock alone was enough to send them tumbling to the floor, their pain and vertigo making them pause. They stared through metal grating at the ground hundreds of meters below, wondering how things could have gone so wrong.
They had always received priority for jobs, so how did they end up there? Lanada tried to avoid any place that took them off the ground or into hazardous situations, or frankly wherever they didn't want to go. They had worked hard for that privilege. Now they had killed every goon on that oil rig, gotten shot up, and their target wasn't even dead.
Standing overhead was Lonnie Louine: an oil baroness trying her hand at dealing illicit goods. She took over the market quickly with her government connections, sending her toughest competition into disarray from the influx of fresh product. Of course though, Lanada had no personal business with her; all they knew was someone thought she deserved to die for what she did.
“Tell me who sent you so this can be over.”
Lanada finally got out of their head, focusing on Lonnie’s sneering voice. In a swift move they were off the ground, and their fist was in Lonnie's face, knocking her to the ground. At that height the job was easy; Lanada simply kicked her out under the railing, making sure to stop Lonnie's limbs trying to save herself. She finally went over, plummeting down to the rig's base. Lanada didn't even care to look, sitting with their back slumped on the railing.
They took a moment to let off their adrenaline, taking deep breaths. They were hurting a lot, alerting them to the many wounds they earned fighting her and her thugs. What a waste of energy; she was going to die anyway. A few sore body parts were nothing new though, and so Lanada paused to rest and observe the view, ignoring the body count below.
The shore was barely visible from their spot in the ocean, the natural curve of the horizon giving way to infinity. The night’s stars were just showing themselves, perched among their neighboring planet Maegiira. It wasn’t so mysterious with its people, the brestyrians, long integrated with the disparate city states of Lanada’s homeworld.
Sharp lines cut through its gray surface, red only from its native flora and thermally active regions. Although most of the planet was covered in ash, much of their land was open and clear, occupied by rolling hills covered in red vines. Despite its beauty though, it was still a harsh place to live, unlike Mikoril. There, it was cool enough for a gentle breeze to brush by Lanada, a refreshing break from the hot, fetid air of the rig.
It was the last thing they needed to feel rejuvenated, picking that time to begin their descent. They were slow climbing down, just realizing the elevation they had fought up through. Despite working a dangerous career, they did have a weakness for heights.
All who weren’t a hired goon had already fled when the shooting started, making the area completely quiet; a contrast to the normal business Lanada expected for an oil rig. Their only company was the bodies littered throughout, far more than usual. Typically their targets didn’t shoot back. The fact they were all armed was concerning for Lanada, even if it hadn’t stopped them.
This was the first real gunfight Lanada had been in, and it was showing. Usually it would be one target, killed from a distance. Their injuries and the gored bodies littering the platform were a stark reminder of how messy this hit was. Even if they were just criminal goons preying on the few disenfranchised left, Lanada always tried to minimize the damage they dealt.
Usually their escapes were quick and easy. It was odd taking a long walk back through the facility. Only a couple boats remained to take them inland, the worst part of the job by far. Lanada had been to space, a different planet, the hottest dunes, and the most dangerous alleyways, but they hated water above it all. Their homeworld’s land being mostly desert, they much preferred dry sand and red rocks.
Like many planets though, Mikoril was made of mostly water. All civilization rested on a small continent of land covered in desert, more temperate weather shielded by mountains guarding the oceans. Craggy red mesas just south of those mountains were coming into view, fronting a vast desert of dunes just further behind.
When Lanada reached the shore, their small car was still there, a rugged all terrain vehicle they’d gotten at a discounted rate. Although most saumryan vehicles were made of smooth and sleek designs of the future, Lanada's truck had exposed suspension, a squared off trunk, and generally too many sharp lines for someone dignified to enjoy. It was a good deal, unlike the job they’d done. Their car was still warm from the day though, despite the bitter cold of night. It was a small reward for all the shit Lanada put up with.
After a small patch job on their wounds, Lanada finally set off for their home, still a couple hours away. They expected it to feel even longer with all their pain, but their mind raced about their work.
Gang contracts were usually easy; they were unarmed, poorly organized, and falling apart. Gangbanging was on its way out as they grasped at what little they could profit off of. Housing and medical care were largely free, so was public transit. With food being affordable, people had little reason to turn to crime to make money.
More of their numbers were leaving every day out of that lifestyle, and the few left were struggling to control the movement of illicit drugs. Only marijuana was legal, but everything else was outlawed, even alcohol having a few restrictions. Despite many protests, the Monarchy never budged. Everyone had their suspicions it was gang connected, but Lanada knew almost for sure.
Without those laws, there would be no outlaws, so why else let them exist? Lanada wondered sometimes, but the good, easy work was enough to make them look away. Last thing they wanted was to go back to government contracts.
All the stress made their mind melt down; they tried to ignore their business as they watched the mountains and plateaus pass by. The desert would level out long before they reached Ingalderin, their hometown, so they took in the sights before they moved on. All they could look forward to was their warm bed, waiting not too far away. As if to answer their prayers, the dunes opened to the city’s skyline, lights twinkling in the distance.
Ingalderin was a mid-sized city, blotting out the flatland before a mass of canyons cut off the city’s expansion to the south. There wasn’t another town or settlement for kilometers out, only connected by a train and a highway. It was one of the nicer skylines on Mikoril, featuring a few unique buildings among the older developments. Its downtown was filled with smooth glass and metal towers, some of the largest in the world. Their density was visible in the sky, towering over the small buildings of Lanada's neighborhood. They lived in a newer part of town, built for single use occupants and small families.
Since they didn’t have to make the trek into the middle of the city, Lanada arrived at their humble apartment in no time, quietly departing their car in its elevator. One of their neighbors was still out, smoking the usual human weed he said he drove hours for. Gerry was a lanky saumryan, covered in a light tan, leathery skin. His face was gaunt, the skin stretching across his elongated snout, protruding a few extra centimeters from his head. A hard crest bumped over and past his eyes, shooting back into a pointed cowl. Being a saumryan themself, Lanada had a very similar look. He was also the only person who truly understood Lanada’s exact profession.
Lanada sniffled as they silently approached, getting Gerry's attention. They knew from experience if they approached too quietly, they surely would have startled him.
“Hey Gerry.”
His face lit up at the sight of Lanada, a big smile across his face. He wore that smile a lot.
“Hi Lanada! Oh—gods, you smell like oil! And you look a lot worse than usual, rough job?”
“Yeah yeah, you really want to know?”
Lanada sat down for their usual smoke and chat, a ritual whenever they caught him after a job. He had clearly waited, a bowl already packed and being handed over.
“Hah! Definitely not. But, you do look worse than usual. And that’s saying something. Is that a bullet wound? They have guns now?!”
“Yeah, apparently they do. I patched up what I could. I’ll see Myra tomorrow, no big deal. Just let me smoke in peace, alright? Doesn’t weed help with pain?”
“Not for bullet holes Lanada haha! You’re practically bleeding out, and I have enough to worry about! I’m constantly getting calls…”
“You’re getting calls? From who? Ooh, is it a guy?”
“Some of them are, but documenting supplies isn’t exactly sexy.”
“Really? But I thought you talked to a lot of guys in your organization!”
“I don’t fuck them! That would get in the way! I can’t bring equity to the people of Mikoril if I’m thinking about dick alll the time!”
Gerry laughed a lot at his own joke, rocking back and forth. He always had something funny to say, even if nobody but himself thought so. It was fortunate, for Lanada hardly ever laughed. They were grateful Gerry showed that side of himself to them, even if they couldn’t reciprocate the same thing.
At times he seemed like the exact opposite to Lanada, and they worried at some point he’d find out. While they killed for a living, Gerry had helped establish an activist group called the Geldor Co-op; devoted to building community, connections, and ending the global state for good. Although it started in their small neighborhood, they soon had a chapter in nearly every city, garnering global appeal.
“We’ve been busy, too. I know you don’t pay much attention, but like, it’s going to affect you eventually. Lactain is trying to pass a new housing initiative, but the new apartments are going to be rented out instead of being on the registry.”
“Thought you wanted new housing to be built?”
“Not like this! The people that it’s getting built for can’t even afford those prices. We were protesting all day and trying to educate people, but... This is the only vote he’s won so far…”
“I don’t think he actually wins any votes. Didn’t he kill the last King?”
“Ooh I never took you for a conspiracy theorist, Lanada.”
A conspiracy definitely downplayed the situation, and Gerry clearly knew with his sarcasm. King Lactain’s predecessor was killed by an anonymous extremist group said to be fighting for state liberation. Before dying he had built the council up with his own elected recommendations; afterwards they held a planet wide vote to replace him.
King Lactain hardly won the popular vote with his progressive stance, campaigning off his primary promise to restart the housing initiative. Since then, most legislation was voted down, his liberal policies often including hidden clauses that undid the work of the very same bill. Gerry explaining that this latest law had passed was concerning.
People in Mikoril were becoming less dependant on money to survive, encouraged by the saumryans’ micro-communities and the brestyrians’ moneyless homeworld. The Geldor had a large part in that motion, establishing a free resource network that involved producers and manufacturers all the way to retailers. With more free Co-op businesses popping up, money was largely trending towards being a luxury good.
Lactain was reversing a lot of that work, however. Entire industries were being forced to comply by a new government overseer, banning free, unregulated food and healthcare products unless they complied with strict rules. Outside the co-op, the general population was slowly being forced to rely on money even more to meet their needs. By placing a cost on new homes, often built for single or family use, many people would’ve been priced out of a place to live.
“Hey, I didn’t vote for the guy.”
“You don’t vote at all!”
“Hah, Gerry do you really think I'm even registered?”
Lanada leaned toward him with a joking smile, but Gerry only shook his head.
“Well you should be. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it's the bare bones minimum to resist the state.”
“Gerry, I think I'm a special case, you know.”
“Yeah, exactly! You can't distance yourself from the world forever. It's going to bite you in the ass eventually.”
“Well it's already bit me in the ass plenty.”
“So what, now it’s your turn to bite ass? Other people are still struggling Lanada, even if you ‘made it out.’ I’d think you’d want to help them given everything you’ve gone through.”
“Hey I didn’t have anyone helping me get here. I’m just tired Gerry. Last thing I want is to dive back into all that bs, you know? I fought so hard for my life to be this easy.”
“Yeah… I know. I can’t force you to care, but… You’ve got unique skills Lanada. I don’t know many other good murderers. Just… I wish you’d put that energy into the right people sometimes, you know?”
“And who’s the right people Gerry?”
“Hah, our fascist overlords?”
“Yeah yeah, and who’s going to pay me, you?”
“Wha— Bu— No! Missing the point. You shouldn’t need money to do something good, Lanada!”
Lanada used to put a lot of effort into battling their ethics, but after years of the career, they hardly thought twice about taking a life anymore. They called themself a “contractor,” a vague title that managed to explain enough to their distant friends, and any cops who decided to pay them attention. Although it sounded better, there still was no other word for it. Lanada was an assassin, a contract killer, easily building a reputation with every successful job.
The people they killed weren’t good people, but neither were their employers; gangs oftentimes dealing in worse business than their victim. Being the most equipped and the most qualified, Lanada got juggled around all the time, even turning on previous employers if the job was right. Lanada didn’t mind though; any threats were followed up by a job offer, and it was good money too. That was all the thinking Lanada afforded to justify their career, worried any more thought and they’d no longer be able to live with themself.
“Well if I’m not getting paid, I’m not doing anything more than breaking limbs. That’s my rule.”
“That’s a pretty fucked up rule Lanada!” Gerry squealed in terror and laughter, his open mouth holding a fabricated, nervous smile that his hand barely covered.
“You have fucked up rules too.”
“Noo you CANNOT compare my rules for sex with yours for KILLING PEOPLE!”
“Well I just did, soo…”
Gerry laughed and shook his head, waiting a couple minutes to look at Lanada before turning back ahead. He finally got to lighting his own bowl, filled in as much as possible. With years of experience, he took a long draw. He grimaced, but there wasn’t even a small cough.
“Whatever, I’m just glad I’m on your side,” he exhaled, his voice stuffed up.
“You’d better be. I hope you’re convinced by now not to make an enemy out of me.”
“That’s the last thing I would do! You don’t have to scare me to keep me quiet, don’t worry!”
“I don’t care, scaring you is fun.”
“Only because I scare easy, I’m a fucking wimp.”
“For scaring easy you do invite a lot of scary looking dudes over.”
“Hold on, that's different. If a guy comes over and he’s scary, that’s hot honestly. And I’ve never had a gun pointed at me by anyone but you.”
He went silent again to bring his colorful bong around his lips, breathing out slowly as he stared at Ingalderin’s skyline. Lanada was caught up in it as well, just like every night they spent on the rooftop with Gerry. When Lanada first moved into that building, they kept quiet, trying to keep a low profile to operate from. Through observing the tenants and the building’s surroundings though, they noticed the large influx of men to the next door apartment, showing up at any random time of the day, and many times not alone.
For the longest time, Lanada thought he ran some kind of drug business, or smuggling, or something even more illicit. They watched for days to figure out a pattern, and when they found one, they confronted him. With their own occupation, there was no way they could allow something so sloppy and attention grabbing literally next door. They waited for the men to leave one day and entered behind them, gun in hand and convinced this guy would try to kill them.
For such a small apartment, Lanada was surprised it was empty when they walked in, not even a light was on. The only evidence of life they saw was in the bathroom, a thin crack of light alerting them. They kicked down the door with their gun aimed straight ahead, getting a loud scream from Gerry. The poor guy was on the toilet, shitting out liters of blood and cum from who Lanada assumed were those two men that just left.
They ran out immediately, returning the next day to apologize. Ever since, Lanada managed to avoid him when he was dealing with his business, carefully listening in to check for any guys plowing him before knocking. Of course he was far more concerned as to why and how Lanada had a gun; even most criminals didn’t have one, and they clearly weren’t military. It was obvious their lifestyle was explicit in nature, but Gerry’s was too—in a different manner. They bonded over their transgressions, and soon Gerry was trusted enough to know everything; not that he hadn’t pieced most of it together himself. Only he knew their true profession, and it was mutually understood he would have to take that secret to his grave.
“I’ve apologized a hundred times.”
“I know, still the worst first impression I’ve literally ever seen though. I’ll never stop poking fun at you for that. If you could call almost getting shot fun.”
“I wasn’t going to shoot you though! I thought you were dangerous!”
“Do you see these frail little arms? How skinny I am? You could punch a hole in me Lanada haha! Be real, you just get hard holding a gun like that. Makes you feel big.”
“Well obviously. You don’t see them very often, especially on someone who can actually use one.”
“Well at least you’re killing the dangerous people…”
“Yeah, because other dangerous people hired me to do so. I won’t pretend I’m doing anything good.”
“Heh, and meanwhile that’s all I keep trying to be…”
“You don’t have to try to be good Gerry, you just are. Now me? Well that’s gonna take a lot of work, sorry to tell ya...”
“Eh, I don’t think so. You’re good to me. I’m sure there’s some more good down in there too. A simple change in direction and you could be a hero, Lanada.”
Lanada only scoffed, finishing the last of their bowl. It was the usual sign they were about to call it a night.
“Stay safe out there, Lanada.”
“Same to you.”
“Nah, I don’t have to worry while you’re around, ‘night!”
Lanada smiled as their closest friend bounced off into his home. They only lingered a few more minutes to view the night alone.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
❂
The next morning Lanada awoke in pain. It was usual though, and they simply groaned before turning over. Their body was well bruised and scratched up from their jobs, but the last one took the cake for danger. One bullet was ingrained to their shoulder while another had grazed their leg, forming a deep scar running past. The bed sheets would have to be changed soon, as there were likely bloodstains they’d have to worry about, again, a common issue.
A freezer in the corner of their room contained a body, forced to hide it after murdering them. They got paid an extra fee to dispose of the body though, and Lanada wasn’t about to miss a bonus like that. Only two more days before they started to smell up the place, so Lanada wasn’t too worried with their current plan.
They had settled into a nice routine, following the same daily traditions for nearly five years. Five before that were spent navigating up the criminal ladder. The only thing that changed anymore was their jobs, and though they’d never admit it, Lanada was always excited to read the next dossier.
Descriptions of the evil these people would commit flipped a switch in Lanada, telling them it was okay to kill. After that face was only a target to them, it became a game. A game that they were quite good at.
In between though, they could relax, not even thinking about it. The switch could turn off every morning so they could wake up feeling normal. They had fought hard for the privilege of a normal life.
They had barely turned on their television and made a cup of coffee before they heard a knock on the door. It was an unpleasant pattern, sounding like a cop. Lanada immediately muted the TV and tried to peek outside. A uniformed human with jet black hair stood at their door, a stoic face at attention. He was obviously a cop.
Lanada decided to wait him out, the police were always trouble. They’d been needlessly harassed enough to know. This guy was resilient though, knocking three more times before Lanada saw him peeking through the window. They made direct eye contact and Lanada knew the game was up.
“The fuck do you want?” Lanada asked after swinging open the door, aiming to hit him.
“You’re Lanada, right?”
“No. And who the fuck are you?”
“Sam Bones. Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, Division 7.”
Lanada was shocked. He wasn’t just a cop, but an ultra super mega cop, a member of some supposed elite force of agents and spies, specializing in subterfuge and stealth. Lanada had seen them operate before though, and in comparison, they weren't impressed by their skills. Only his armor gave him an advantage, a rarity reserved for the military’s most elite.
“And I wonder who you are then, you’re an exact match for my records.”
Sam smiled as he lifted up a picture of Lanada on his device, their name largely printed above. There was no mistaking them for someone else. It seemed they’d lost that game as well.
“Okay, what’s it to you? Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“We already know everything about you, Lanada, so there’s no need to be defensive. I promise I’m not here for trouble. May I come in?”
“Fuck no. And fuck off.”
Sam grimaced and shifted his feet, still keeping his stoic look. His confidence seemed to be waning.
“I’ll share what I can outside of privacy then. We’re recruiting Lanada, simple as that. I know personally; you have a lot of natural talent, talents that we could use. If you haven’t noticed somehow, Mikoril’s been under attack. We want to give you the opportunity to work for STAR. Maybe you can do something good for a change, actually protect some people.”
“Protect them from you, then? And you do look familiar, do I know you personally?”
“Probably. I’ve been in charge of your case for a while.”
After Sam finished, it finally clicked in for Lanada. This was that fucking asshole from STAR that had been tracking them? Every time a job went wrong, they’d see the same short human with the same black hair, always just a fleeting look. He was usually easy enough to outsmart though, so Lanada hadn’t been too concerned trying to lose him. That was clearly a mistake.
“So what, you’re like my fairy god cop then? You’re terrible at it.”
“Well, this isn’t exactly what I expected to be talking about, face to face with you.”
“What were you expecting then? Dying a horrible death? I can still do that!”
“You really shouldn’t threaten a STAR agent.”
“Why not? I could scuff your shoes and you’ll run crying.”
Sam did indeed have shiny shoes, glancing down to check them subconsciously.
“Please, there’s no need for that; I have respect for you Lanada. Why do you think I've been trying to catch you?”
“Trying? So you haven’t got anything then?”
“Not yet. But we pretty much have you. You’d be smart to take our offer. The alternative is rotting away in rehab. After all you’ve done, I’m sure you’d never be integrated back into society.”
Typically a criminal would be sent to a rehabilitation center after committing a crime. There they would be provided services to get their life back on track, that being healthcare or financial restitution. After killing countless people though, and working years as a murder for hire, Lanada wouldn’t be rehabilitated; they would be locked away.
That intimidated Lanada, but Sam didn’t. He looked smug as if he was faking it. Rather it looked like he was falling apart, not in any state to properly monitor Lanada. They smiled, taking a pause to look him down.
“Wow. Guess I am pretty good then. Still not interested in working for the cops.”
“We’re not cops. We work with them on occasion, but—”
“Still reason enough. Bye asshole!”
Lanada slammed the door shut and shook their head, peeking back outside. Sam looked to be in complete shock, his mouth still open and his hands stuck in an animation. He looked down to his device and noted a few things before turning to leave, looking back one last time before disappearing down the building’s stairs.
Whatever reason the cops were sniffing down their neck for Lanada didn’t know, but Sam’s story seemed believable enough. STAR likely had people they wanted dead, and a seedy nobody was exactly the person dirt wouldn’t stick to. Lanada would have been happy to take the money if they weren’t so suspicious; they knew better than to trust the government.
If anything, Lanada was more surprised they hadn’t been asked sooner. Their first thought was their old employers: governors and council members. They had pledged immunity for Lanada as long as they stayed in their own lane, so why were they being bothered again? Although separate from STAR, had they exercised their leverage somehow? Either way, Lanada had no interest getting wrapped into their messy business anymore.
They made a pledge to be more careful with STAR, thinking through how they could have kept track of them for so long. Even with their shaky deal, Lanada had made a point to cover their tracks. They had been so careful since their first job, rarely making mistakes, convinced to do things correctly from the beginning. It made STAR’s observation that much more confusing. Perhaps they had underestimated them.
Lanada returned to the news, still not finished with their daily ritual. There was always something of interest there, even if Lanada was just confirming none of their actions were being reported on. They fortunately were focused on something bigger.
A large, blue orb was orbiting the planet, sending blackouts down to the surface wherever it moved. It had already hit the Capitol once, and was moving towards Ingalderin after the last outage. Lanada would have to make sure their work was done before it arrived, including disposing that body.
They confirmed their thoughts and looked for cameras, convinced STAR had bugged their home or something. After successfully finding nothing though, they started the arduous process of moving a body.
Quite frankly, it was an easy task on Mikoril. Millions of kilometers of desert went uninhabited, an easy hiding place for all sorts. Lanada even knew a special corner of the mesas, using a small canyon to convince anyone the bodies they found were the result of an accident.
They had done it countless times before, carefully watching the top of every dune, behind every bush. So far out in the desert, it was easy to spot any other life around, then avoid it.
The only real difficult part was getting it out of the city. Keeping their apartment clean was a necessity, and although Lanada was more than strong enough, the awkward angles, foul smells, and dripping fluids were always challenging. They had a routine after years of offering such a service though.
They packed the corpse into a large bin, a little suspicious but nothing unusual for the sketchy area. Their vehicle was more than large enough, and when it was retrieved from the elevator and packed, Lanada took off towards the desert. They looped around the block a couple times to check surveillance, but found nothing. Typically there’d be a suspicious van or people, or a small head poking out over a roof to watch out for. No planes or spaceships were even in the sky; a clear, cloudless day. If STAR was somehow watching them, they hoped they were at least getting a show.
The spot was a few hours from Ingalderin, not even accessible by road. Lanada only relied on a couple landmarks, a bush and a rock, to guide the journey every time. In those dunes their car came into its full potential, handling the sand as if it were road. It only made sense given Mikoril’s makeup of desert.
The sun was just beginning to go down when Lanada arrived at the canyon. At the bottom, dirt and other sediment covered the older bones from long ago, allowing for a fresh new body. It was granted its wish as Lanada sent the corpse tumbling to the bottom, making sure it hit as many rocks as possible the way down to mask their injuries. With every snap and crack of bones, the fall only became more convincing when it reached the ground, still having enough fluid inside to splat on the ground.
They didn’t spend long peering over the canyon edge, making sure the body wasn’t too obvious. With their satisfaction they returned to their car, starting the long journey back. The roads to the north of Ingalderin were always empty, any sign of life being a clear tell they were close to the city. As the dunes passed by again, Lanada was faced by the same, usual skyline.
“Hey, Lanada!” Gerry called them as they entered the city. “Some friends and I are going drinking, we just finished a meeting. You coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Great! I thought you’d be busy, I’ll tell the others!”
Lanada sighed. Although Gerry was a good friend, they were uncomfortable around groups or strangers, both of which Gerry seemed a huge fan of. They enjoyed the random invites at times though, they were better than pissing away their time alone. It was also a good break from the heaviness of their work, an issue that Gerry seemed to acknowledge every time he invited Lanada.
Unlike them, Gerry was great at making friends and was hardly ever alone. Most of the people he knew were from his business with the Geldor co-op, his friends also motivated to end the global state. Many saumryans wanted that same peace as their neighbors on Maegiira, the brestyrians. They lived in a stateless society, organized by thousands of communities.
Mikoril though had been run by a single nation for hundreds of years by that point. The Monarchy connected every city separated, and brought them together under common rule. With the brestyrians exposing saumryans to the idea of a society without a state, they soon began making changes.
With help from the Geldor Co-op, workers began obtaining ownership of their labor and production, healthcare became publicly funded, and even some housing eventually became free. Food was the last thing people were required to interact with the state for, and Lactain was fighting the Co-op to keep that restriction in place. The co-op was one of his favorite targets, repeatedly passing laws that restricted their network.
Lanada only knew this through Gerry, who was always trying to keep them aware. As much as they tried though, business always came first, occupying their mind. But how did he really expect such a morally bankrupt person to help fight for freedom?
When Lanada finally arrived, Gerry and the others were already inside and drinking. He laughed loudly, his arm around a new guy beside him, a common sight when he went out.
“Lanada you’re finally here! Oh you’re covered in sand… What, were you burying a body?” he joked.
Lanada returned a nervous laugh, choosing not to confirm or deny his statement.
“Hah, I already got you a drink, your favorite. New people here, we have Brodi, Alice, and Fil. And you remember Cander!”
“Hey.”
That was all Lanada said before sitting down, the group erupting back into conversation after the interruption. Lanada naturally sunk into the back, sipping their drink while trying to catch up with the topic.
“Hey Lanada, we were talking about the Numan Weaponry attack, you heard?” Cander, a brestyrian said.
Lanada had seen a story on the news, but was too busy with work to bother doing any research. Like Gerry had been nagging Lanada about though, it was increasingly difficult to be ignorant of the situation. Several attacks were made on Monarchy facilities including this factory. Previously a STAR training facility and an air base were hit, dealing miniature blows to the system.
"Barely, I've been busy."
"Too busy to literally just look around?"
"Yeah, actually."
“Well… their factory was attacked just yesterday, they destroyed the place so they can’t make weapons anymore. We don't know who did it, but the Monarchy has got to be hurting now!” One of the regulars, a saumryan named Hela, looked excited as she spoke.
“I don’t think that’s going to hurt them too bad. That factory isn’t the only one they have. They don’t even make the bulk of their guns there,” said Cander.
“It’s better than nothing though.”
“Is it? They’ve already increased production in the other factories, and now the Monarchy is on alert. They’re just going to react more violently now.”
“Honestly, I’m glad something is finally happening. It feels like we’ve just been waiting for this to start,” said the other saumryan, Fil.
“Yeah, but it should start the right way. This group isn’t even associated with us, how do we know they’ll do the right thing?”
“I’m sure they’d say the same about us,” Alice, the human added.
“We’re different though. We have a nearly global network. We have a whole plan and motive. Whoever attacked this factory had their own reasons we may not even agree with. And given what happened afterwards, I don't think it was a good idea.”
“Damn only you could be so mad one of their weapon factories got taken out,” Hela laughed.
“I’m not mad. I just think it was a waste of energy, and it put us back. The Monarchy is already spinning it, saying that it was a pointless attack on innocents.”
“But isn’t this what we’ve been talking about? Things aren’t changing without violence. We’re past that point.”
“I know, but not like this! We need organization and a plan! A plan that everybody can get behind. All this was just needless violence.”
“I don’t think there’s any needless violence against the Monarchy at this point. They’ve made their position very clear.”
“We all know that, but this kind of attack did nothing!”
“It obviously did if we’re talking about it! I commend them! They’re doing what we should be doing!”
“What? No! We’re organized, we have millions of people signed under us in support! We already know what we’re doing, if anything they’re undermining us! Just wait until people start dropping us after they get too scared the Monarchy will put them on a list!”
“We’re already on a list!”
“We are! Not them! Not the people who would actually be holding the guns, doing the shooting! We owe it to them to do it right!”
“I’m sure everybody’s tired of being told what the ‘right’ way to resist is. I’d be right there with them, so don’t doubt me!”
“I’m not doubting you! I agree with you! But we have to be smart about this!”
“And who’s to say I’m not being smart?”
“Me, asshole!”
“Oh fuck you Cander!”
“No, fuck you!”
"Guys, please!" Gerry looked manic as he stressfully smiled. "Please, I'm losing my mind guys... Aren't we all on the same side here? We hate the Monarchy and want it gone? You're letting these people twist up your heads and divide us, you forget what we're fighting for! We all want a free Mikoril, so stop arguing!”
Lanada always tried their best to stay out of the conflict that had been plaguing Mikoril. There was too much nuance and research to be done; it was far easier to ignore it. They knew right from wrong, and they especially trusted Gerry’s feedback and criticism. That’s really all they needed. The situation was, however, becoming difficult to ignore.
Although the Monarchy had existed for thousands of years, it was clearly on its last legs. Trained primarily off the anarchist model used on Maegiira, saumryans, brestyrians, and humans wanted to completely eliminate the global state. A large-scale resistance movement was mobilizing, most in part organized by the Geldor Co-op.
Still, a traditional sect of the planet fought just as hard to keep the system in place. Even people outside politics, those disenfranchised would advocate for the Monarchy. The plans and reforms to operate without a state didn't seem even possible to them, and they hardly believed Maegiira’s model could take over Mikoril. The Monarchy was comfortable and familiar; the new changes proposed would be a lot of hard work that may not even pay off.
Already three violent attacks had been made on Monarchy facilities, succeeding the former King's assassination almost five years ago. Gerry was adamant that his group was unrelated, but much of the organization was sympathetic. Even Gerry agreed violence would be necessary, but it seemed some didn't want to wait for the established plan, jump starting what would be a violent revolution.
The discussion luckily took a more peaceful route, but Lanada’s energy had already been sucked away. They lazily observed the others, allowing a chuckle or smile befitting the situation. The previous topic was stuck in their head though, and no matter what they tried, they couldn’t pay attention to the current one as a result.
They barely noticed when the group started heading out, simply looking up silently to confirm the people leaving.
“Hey, Lanada, you staying here?” Gerry asked, noticing they were still sitting.
“Um, yeah. Gonna finish this drink.”
“As long as you can make it home without getting killed. Who am I kidding, you could be blackout drunk and still fend off a group of gornads.”
“People keep them as pets, Gerry.”
“What? But their teeth… People are weird, I’d never be lunch that willingly.”
“You’d taste bad anyways.”
“What? No, Lanada. I’ve had four guys just this week that said I taste good. I can call them if you want proof?”
“Nope. No, that won’t be necessary.”
“I’d make such a good dinner and you know it. I’m a snack. Bye love.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Lanada laughed as Gerry waved out the door.
Their drink actually wasn’t quite full, Lanada just didn’t want to leave with the others. Like many groups of friends, the party didn’t end after they left a place and they’d spend at least ten minutes talking outside. Lanada much preferred the quiet of the diner late at night, its atmosphere lending a calm over them. The window beside them blotted out the streets beyond, reflecting them back completely with the fidelity of a mirror.
Lanada was fixated. They looked much different in the window. Their normal tan skin was an unsaturated dark beige, fading like a ghost when shadows met their body. They wondered if their reflection in that window was more real than them, if they were really present in that diner and not a spirit of the window.
They saw the glance of a leg as the friend group finally filtered out, heading their separate ways in the city. Gerry’s normally loud, jovial voice had even gone silent: sure enough proof they were gone. Lanada waited a couple moments to let them get their distance, then finally peeled themself off their chair.
Their car was parked around the corner, hidden out of sight from Gerry’s friends. They were quite used to the strange looks and questions from owning such a vehicle. It was very impractical for the city despite its function, and it usually had mud, or dirt, or sand, or blood and debris covering and damaging the paint. Most of its body had been dented in at some point, not to mention the increasing amount of rust. Unless they understood Lanada’s line of work, they simply would have looked like a douchebag they reckoned.
They were halfway home when their car went haywire, shouting off all its error codes before completely shutting down. After cruising to a stop, Lanada cursed loudly and hit the steering wheel. That truck was reliable and had never broken down; perhaps that was the first sign of its age. When their initial panic died down, Lanada realized that all the outside lights were off as well.
They left their car and looked to the sky. The blue orb from the news was above Ingalderin, and Lanada watched as the rest of the city was also plunged into darkness, lights shutting off in downtown’s highest towers. They let out another curse, stuck in front of some random building on the main road. Other cars were stopped as well though, giving Lanada a little reassurance.
The blackouts in the other cities had left them without power for at least a day, stopping all electronics no matter how many times they were rebooted. Their car then wouldn’t be operable for a while.
Their best choice was simply to abandon the truck and find it when the power came back. All they were focused on was returning home to sleep. In the darkness though, Lanada struggled to see a way forward, sand absorbing what little light they had from Maegiira in the sky. The streets and pathways were normally never dark, adding even more pressure to the atmosphere.
Lanada pulled up their mask to shield against the weather, squinting their eyes to see. A couple others were also outside making their way home, calling loved ones while staring at their inoperable car, or slowly leading their small groups to shelter. A couple people could be seen loudly cursing over their fuse boxes, hitting their electronics when they failed to start.
As they approached their humble district in the outskirts of the city, the streets had died down and nobody was in sight. The dark windows all around didn’t help either, giving Lanada an abandoned feeling. Just an hour ago, the streets were bustling with traffic and pedestrians, but now everything was empty.
The only sound was the rumble of the wind, carrying a wave of sand every time Lanada lifted their head. After nearly an hour of walking, they cursed as they eyed the next set of streets, finally losing their sense of direction. They rolled their eyes as they took out their Circle, a rounded multimedia device that could fit in the palm of their hand. The Circle unfortunately wasn’t working either. As they stuffed their Circle back onto its waist strap, Landa caught a subtle blue light down the street.
They forgot the path home and decided to investigate. It was the only light they’d seen during their trek back: very suspicious. The light was coming from a small alleyway ahead, illuminating a long rectangle out on the walkway between the buildings. They thought they could hear a faint hum, but they could barely hear over the sand in the wind.
Lanada finally reached the alleyway, standing in shock and confusion. At the end of the alley was a blue orb much like the one in space, this one a lot smaller. It was slightly larger than Lanada’s head, its core a bright white while blue energy swarmed around it. Dirt, sticks and other natural debris spun around lazily below, getting blown in and out of the whirlwind.
The hum they thought they’d heard had manifested itself in a droning buzz, filling out the back of Lanada’s head, making it feel heavy. They slowly approached it, feeling the breeze as it began to graze their body. It was surprisingly warm, the same temperature as Lanada while it passed their arms like they were one, drawing them in. They were only a meter away before they stopped. The orb seemed to be spinning faster, the white core nearly blinding them while the buzzing only got louder.
They pulled themself out of a trance to look around the ground. They shortly found a sizeable stick, and approached the orb again. Slowly, they poked the stick into the orb, grimacing in preparation for chaos. Nothing happened, and it felt like nothing was even there touching the stick. Lanada threw it forward through the orb, waiting again for something to happen. The orb remained in the same state: spinning and buzzing.
It seemed there was no choice but for Lanada to touch the thing. That was the only way to truly see what it was. They knew it was irresponsible, that it would probably get them killed, but they felt some insatiable lust to the orb, drawn to it, connected to it. Lanada suspected they wouldn’t feel that way for any old orb floating around.
They shook as their hand raised, reaching out. All they could feel was the wind as their hand passed through the streams of blue, still as warm as their body. The white core was the part that scared them though, and they braced as their hand moved into the center.
As their nail made contact, a spark was sent through their entire body, immobilizing them. As they began to fall over, they slipped out of consciousness, the orb dissipating in their eyes before they closed.