Series 1.15 - Just Hold On, Little Sister
Dark figures watch on from somewhere deep in the shadows; overseers for what may lie ahead. Outlines of torment and turmoil as the gloom grows further than the eye can see. A world engulfed by the foliage; trees and vines the rulers here. With every step taken, a thorn burrows deeper under the skin. Tearing at the place that hope once resided in. The skin rips and in the hollows that blood once flowed now lives only an ever growing sense of dread. What was once a bright vibrant green is now a mixture of black and deep red as far as his vision allowed; which was still not all that far. But no matter how much it hurt to keep running, he knew that they could not stop. And what was pain but a not so long lost friend? An all too comforting reminder of the fate he was fleeing from now. With pain came the light. With pain came the Bright.
I have to keep running. I can't go back to that place.
The darkness felt more like a blanket now. The eyes watching from the shadows felt more like allies than betrayers. So many wrong choices had placed him here in this very moment and all he knew was that the only right choice was to keep running. Or was it? He could feel the Bright grasping at his body as he ran; the spectral claws of an experiment gone wrong. More and more of who he was, what he was made to be, was becoming clear. Just as his eyes began to come into focus, so too did his memory of who he was and what he was running from. A bastardized mixture of a misguided last chance to survive. Forcibly injected with the very thing that tore apart his entire world; never given a chance to say no. Raped by the ideology of desperation and despair. He was no more a man than he was a monster; a monster just like they were. He was supposed to a liberator and savior, yet become nothing more than a trophy to be long forgotten. His creators saw him as nothing more than a tool to be brandished.
I am no object. My lungs are filled with fire. My muscles ache.
But what is life if everything you've ever known is long past living? Can you truly be alive if who and what made you no longer exists beyond the chieftain tales of glory told by your conqueror's scribes? How can someone endure when they are part of nothing more than ancient history? Maybe the Bright truly was salvation after all. A horrible, painful reality now felt like nothing more than a hand to hold and a cheek to kiss. A dagger of icy disgust pierced his heart at the thought and how easy it felt to accept. He never thought that after all this time he would finally give up; but now nothing else made sense but to do that very thing.
Don't give up. You trust me, right? We have to keep going. We can make it through this.
He could hear another voice in his mind; the stranger who had become so familiar so suddenly. The one who freed him from the binds of a brittle existence. Was it her voice? Or perhaps merely the perception of who and what she was. He could never be a savior no matter how much they tried to make him one. But there she was, in flesh and blood, saving him. He understood now that the only hand he was meant to hold onto was her own. As they ran through the darkness and out of the light. Nevertheless, the overseers cry out in alarm at what they were soon to witness.
I have to keep running. I can't go back to that place.
The darkness felt more like a blanket now. The eyes watching from the shadows felt more like allies than betrayers. So many wrong choices had placed him here in this very moment and all he knew was that the only right choice was to keep running. Or was it? He could feel the Bright grasping at his body as he ran; the spectral claws of an experiment gone wrong. More and more of who he was, what he was made to be, was becoming clear. Just as his eyes began to come into focus, so too did his memory of who he was and what he was running from. A bastardized mixture of a misguided last chance to survive. Forcibly injected with the very thing that tore apart his entire world; never given a chance to say no. Raped by the ideology of desperation and despair. He was no more a man than he was a monster; a monster just like they were. He was supposed to a liberator and savior, yet become nothing more than a trophy to be long forgotten. His creators saw him as nothing more than a tool to be brandished.
I am no object. My lungs are filled with fire. My muscles ache.
But what is life if everything you've ever known is long past living? Can you truly be alive if who and what made you no longer exists beyond the chieftain tales of glory told by your conqueror's scribes? How can someone endure when they are part of nothing more than ancient history? Maybe the Bright truly was salvation after all. A horrible, painful reality now felt like nothing more than a hand to hold and a cheek to kiss. A dagger of icy disgust pierced his heart at the thought and how easy it felt to accept. He never thought that after all this time he would finally give up; but now nothing else made sense but to do that very thing.
Don't give up. You trust me, right? We have to keep going. We can make it through this.
He could hear another voice in his mind; the stranger who had become so familiar so suddenly. The one who freed him from the binds of a brittle existence. Was it her voice? Or perhaps merely the perception of who and what she was. He could never be a savior no matter how much they tried to make him one. But there she was, in flesh and blood, saving him. He understood now that the only hand he was meant to hold onto was her own. As they ran through the darkness and out of the light. Nevertheless, the overseers cry out in alarm at what they were soon to witness.
*****
Melora knew that they could not keep up this kind of velocity with how badly injured the two of them were. The jungle was getting more difficult to traverse through and they kept getting snagged on vines and branches that only caused more cuts and scrapes. She was pooling up as much UDE-1 as she could in her back just to keep upright, as the fall from the strike craft had wounded her more than she wanted to admit. She had been hurt on plenty of Order missions before but they were all superficial and if anything just added to her overall mystique and intrigue; they made the stories more glorious. Something was different this time, though, and she knew it. She was always known for being able to utilize more power from her Resonator than perhaps anyone else in Order history without the risk of corruption, but she could sense that she was teetering on a very thin blade now.
And what happens if we can't get to an opening and that thing catches up to us?
The self doubt that had been haunting her from the moment they entered the Kerworn System was keeping pace as they ran. It was an unfamiliar and unsettling mindset that must have been the universe's way of warning her, considering how much of the mission had gone wrong up to this point. Order Controller Strike Team's very rarely ever lose a member, let alone the Commandant's own personal team. She was going to have to put a spin on that like no other; if she was even able to make it off this cursed rock in one piece. Technically speaking, the mission was a success: they handily dispatched the first group of invaders they battled with and destroyed what may have been some kind of biological weapon facility, so it may not be as hard as she thought to make it sound like a bigger success than it actually was.
But Kel is dead and you're escaping with one of those weapons...
“Oh shut up, already!” she seemed surprised by herself to say out loud, through labored breathes. Hox slightly turned his head in her direction, but was distinctly unable to understand her words and looked to be barely hanging on as it is.
She noticed how pale he had gotten, likely due to blood loss, and yet he had kept up with her. A thin pale haze of white had formed around his body; an essence or an aura of sorts not entirely unlike the beasts they fought earlier. The life of military and tactical training had taught her that she should be worried about that, but there was something so trusting in his eyes. She knew that if he was capable of hurting her, he would have at least tried already. And it is not like she had much of a choice but to trust him at this point. As strong as she was, they couldn't keep up like this forever. Eventually they would have to stop long enough for Alere to try and pick them up. That's if they managed to even find an area with enough space for the pilot to maneuver that plan into reality. With Alere on her mind, she reached down to tap her comm-set only to find that it was broken beyond use from the fall. All hope at being found was not lost though, as they could track her Resonator, but it was just another setback in what was becoming the reoccurring theme of this mission. And her back was killing her.
“We...need...to stop. And fight...I can't...keep running.”
She slid to a halt in place with Hox coming to a stop just ahead of her before turning and waving her on to continue with a wild urgency on his face.
“No, you don't understand...we can't keep running. There's nowhere to go.”
He walked over to her side and placed a hand around her bicep, gently trying to pull her forward, stepping behind her in an attempt at moving her onward through the jungle.
“I can't...look, I know you don't know what I'm saying, but we can't keep running like this. We need to find somewhere my friend's can pick us up. We have to stand our ground if we need to.” she tried to explain to him as best as she could, using her hands to mimic the ship, the two of them running, and her back hurting.
He seemed to finally understand, with a nod and a faint smile forming at the edge of his lips, his vision seemed to had returned fully as well. She exhaled, relieved to have somehow gotten her point across, and returned the smile. Through the darkness not far behind them came a thunderous crack and within an instant, Hox was pierced through the chest with a bolt of enemy energy that only just narrowly missed her on the way by. It seared through his entire midsection and left what was still remaining a burning mess of gore and cackeling electricity. She held onto his arm as his own grip on her bicep weakened and he fell to the ground in a heap. His eyes never once left her own until he was flat on the ground, staring off into the canopy and the sky above with an emptiness that she was sadly all to familiar with in her position. His body seemed to glow brighter now even as his life faded away. She spun on her heels and took a defensive position towards the direction that the bolt came from before scanning the area and doing what she could to assess her battle options. This would be it: the last stand.
And what happens if we can't get to an opening and that thing catches up to us?
The self doubt that had been haunting her from the moment they entered the Kerworn System was keeping pace as they ran. It was an unfamiliar and unsettling mindset that must have been the universe's way of warning her, considering how much of the mission had gone wrong up to this point. Order Controller Strike Team's very rarely ever lose a member, let alone the Commandant's own personal team. She was going to have to put a spin on that like no other; if she was even able to make it off this cursed rock in one piece. Technically speaking, the mission was a success: they handily dispatched the first group of invaders they battled with and destroyed what may have been some kind of biological weapon facility, so it may not be as hard as she thought to make it sound like a bigger success than it actually was.
But Kel is dead and you're escaping with one of those weapons...
“Oh shut up, already!” she seemed surprised by herself to say out loud, through labored breathes. Hox slightly turned his head in her direction, but was distinctly unable to understand her words and looked to be barely hanging on as it is.
She noticed how pale he had gotten, likely due to blood loss, and yet he had kept up with her. A thin pale haze of white had formed around his body; an essence or an aura of sorts not entirely unlike the beasts they fought earlier. The life of military and tactical training had taught her that she should be worried about that, but there was something so trusting in his eyes. She knew that if he was capable of hurting her, he would have at least tried already. And it is not like she had much of a choice but to trust him at this point. As strong as she was, they couldn't keep up like this forever. Eventually they would have to stop long enough for Alere to try and pick them up. That's if they managed to even find an area with enough space for the pilot to maneuver that plan into reality. With Alere on her mind, she reached down to tap her comm-set only to find that it was broken beyond use from the fall. All hope at being found was not lost though, as they could track her Resonator, but it was just another setback in what was becoming the reoccurring theme of this mission. And her back was killing her.
“We...need...to stop. And fight...I can't...keep running.”
She slid to a halt in place with Hox coming to a stop just ahead of her before turning and waving her on to continue with a wild urgency on his face.
“No, you don't understand...we can't keep running. There's nowhere to go.”
He walked over to her side and placed a hand around her bicep, gently trying to pull her forward, stepping behind her in an attempt at moving her onward through the jungle.
“I can't...look, I know you don't know what I'm saying, but we can't keep running like this. We need to find somewhere my friend's can pick us up. We have to stand our ground if we need to.” she tried to explain to him as best as she could, using her hands to mimic the ship, the two of them running, and her back hurting.
He seemed to finally understand, with a nod and a faint smile forming at the edge of his lips, his vision seemed to had returned fully as well. She exhaled, relieved to have somehow gotten her point across, and returned the smile. Through the darkness not far behind them came a thunderous crack and within an instant, Hox was pierced through the chest with a bolt of enemy energy that only just narrowly missed her on the way by. It seared through his entire midsection and left what was still remaining a burning mess of gore and cackeling electricity. She held onto his arm as his own grip on her bicep weakened and he fell to the ground in a heap. His eyes never once left her own until he was flat on the ground, staring off into the canopy and the sky above with an emptiness that she was sadly all to familiar with in her position. His body seemed to glow brighter now even as his life faded away. She spun on her heels and took a defensive position towards the direction that the bolt came from before scanning the area and doing what she could to assess her battle options. This would be it: the last stand.
*****
It had been a long time since he last felt this way. He thought he had outgrown it; that they had outgrown in. There was always a small part of him that wished that they hadn't; wished that things could have turned out differently than they did. But the reality of life and who they were meant it was always going to end up the way it has. If he had the choice, he'd give it all back and the two of them would live together as just another pair of faceless faces in the trillions of others. He never wanted the fame or the notoriety, no matter how much power and recognition it brought to their family. He missed the days in which the two of them could just take a step back and laugh and cry and grow. He missed the time when the only person he ever had to protect was his little sister.
She was never going to be okay with just being his little sister, though. And it pained him to know that even though they see each other more now than they ever had before, they were more distant than they've ever been. The two of them have been all over the galaxy together and the space between the two of them seemed double that. He knows more about Aida Warda and her feelings than he ever really knows about his own sister. Melora has become nothing more than his commanding officer and the Commandant to his Vice. He doesn't like having to be the voice of reason to just about all of her decisions but without him there, she'd probably already be dead. And as long as the story was enough of an epic, she might not even mind.
This feeling...we have to help her!
He had watched his sister fall and hit the ground hard, yet also saw the unknown man he had thought was dead get up and lift her to her feet before the two of them ran off into the jungle together with Sunder not far behind. He knew that she had survived the fall, but he felt something now, a different kind of danger. When the two of them were young, they shared a bond through a mixture of family, the Order, and their uncanny ability to use UDE-1 at elite levels so early on in life. They could tell if either of them were in danger, which happened far more often to the children of Ceren Rowe than of average children. It's what he had thought the two of them had outgrown; the connection that they once shared. But he felt it again now and she was crying out to him from somewhere not far below them. He knew that they had to find her and quick or else it would be too late. And Tae knew that he could never stand in front of his father and explain to him that his daughter was gone. If anyone in the Rowe family was destined for greatness, it was her. Besides, that was a role he never wanted and surely not this way.
I have to get to her before it's too late. Just hold on a bit longer, little sister!
But just holding on was never quite good enough in this galaxy of darkness.
She was never going to be okay with just being his little sister, though. And it pained him to know that even though they see each other more now than they ever had before, they were more distant than they've ever been. The two of them have been all over the galaxy together and the space between the two of them seemed double that. He knows more about Aida Warda and her feelings than he ever really knows about his own sister. Melora has become nothing more than his commanding officer and the Commandant to his Vice. He doesn't like having to be the voice of reason to just about all of her decisions but without him there, she'd probably already be dead. And as long as the story was enough of an epic, she might not even mind.
This feeling...we have to help her!
He had watched his sister fall and hit the ground hard, yet also saw the unknown man he had thought was dead get up and lift her to her feet before the two of them ran off into the jungle together with Sunder not far behind. He knew that she had survived the fall, but he felt something now, a different kind of danger. When the two of them were young, they shared a bond through a mixture of family, the Order, and their uncanny ability to use UDE-1 at elite levels so early on in life. They could tell if either of them were in danger, which happened far more often to the children of Ceren Rowe than of average children. It's what he had thought the two of them had outgrown; the connection that they once shared. But he felt it again now and she was crying out to him from somewhere not far below them. He knew that they had to find her and quick or else it would be too late. And Tae knew that he could never stand in front of his father and explain to him that his daughter was gone. If anyone in the Rowe family was destined for greatness, it was her. Besides, that was a role he never wanted and surely not this way.
I have to get to her before it's too late. Just hold on a bit longer, little sister!
But just holding on was never quite good enough in this galaxy of darkness.
