Snippet #2763082

The smell of burnt metal filled the air as sirens deafened all who could hear. Red light filled the narrow corridors of the fatally wounded shuttle craft as the heat of reentry began to seep through the holes left by enemy fire. bodies littered the way as she pushed herself forward toward the cockpit. Blood dripped down the walls, and pooled at her feet, rising quickly, threatening to drown the sole survivor of the unwarranted attack. They’d just been trying to go home, to put the war behind them. She was young, alone. The blood filled the corridor and she could feel he weight of thick liquid crushing her as the ship plummeted through the atmosphere of the desolate, lawless planet that was The Rock.

She awoke with a start, cold sweat coating her naked body and sheets. She struggled to regain her breath as she looked around wildly, trying to make sense of everything around her. Slowly the memories returned and the uneasiness of the nightmare faded. 12 years had passed since she’d crashed on The Rock, 12 years she’d been enslaved to a band of former military hotshots that felt peace was a waste of time. A company of outlaws, pieced together of former platoon mates, and enemies. All working side by side for a better life. When you grow up feeling disposable, you begin to dispose those that see you only for your disposable nature. These men and women wanted more from life and thus created their nomadic monarchy on the one world no one would care to look for them on.

It was here that Syra had found her fate. Rescued, or so she thought, from the wreckage of the ship she’d served on, she now served the King of these soldiers. One of his many wives, and called little more than a Thrall by everyone else.

She pulled the sheets over herself and noticed that the other women ho shared her fate still slept. Their mighty king snoring loudly, his arms around two older women he’d chosen to spend the night with, neither of them his property, but rather a former member of Oblivion’s army, and the other a former member of Seed. “The three warring factions sharing a moment of peace!” He’d called out during his night of pleasure. It all made her sick to her stomach.

There was no escape from this, her life had been stripped away by the same people who’d relentlessly killed her friends and shot their ship from the sky for no other reason than sport. There was no honor among these forgotten soldiers, and their was no sense of caring or duty to anyone but their own. New members would arrive daily, bringing with them stolen ships and goods entrusted to them by the governments they’d allegedly served.

With a deep breath, she pushed the nightmare from her mind and quickly dressed herself in the simple linen dress she’d been given once her real clothes had been taken and burned. Torture was nothing for these people and she’d learned a long time ago that it was easier to go along with their king’s wishes than to try and fight.

Though it was early, the camp was already bustling with activity. Livestock was being tended to by other Thralls and those who enjoyed freedom sat around swapping stories of their adventures, or working on the various ships and vehicles that belonged to them.

“You have permission to be wandering around, Syra?” A woman called out harshly.

Syra turned, tucking her hair behind her ear, “No, however, King Theory has always allowed me to watch the sunrise whenever I chose, ma’am.”

“Psh, sunrise? If you have free time, you’ll be helping me this morning. I need these barracks cleaned from top to bottom, and the needs of everyone who wishes them to be, met. Now.”

Before she could protest, two bigger men, each wilding their weapons took up positions on either side of Syra. “Y-yes, ma’am…” She sighed. From one nightmare, to another. She was quickly stripped of her clothing and felt the dagger like stares of all who occupied the barracks. They’ simply sit and watch her clean until they felt the urge to take her in front of any and all who would watch. Though she was the King’s, what was his belonged to the people he reigned over.

The sun was setting when she closed the door of the barracks behind her. fresh bruises covered nearly every inch of her body, and she ached all over. Tears stung her eyes, but she brushed them away before anyone could see. Other Thralls offered to escort her back to the King’s tent, but she shook her head and made her way there alone.

She laid down on the dusty floor and pulled her blanket around her now shivering body before crying herself to sleep, only to be woken up a few hours later by other women in the King’s harem. Something was going on outside, and it had the soldiers excited.

“My fellow soldiers!” King Theory began, “For too long we have served men and women who never gave a damn about us!” Cheers erupted from his subjects as he continued. “for 12 years we have lived a good life away from those who’d seek to use us!” The irony of his statement wasn’t lost on Syra. “Now, it is time we become the masters of this world! The Rock shall be ours! We will begin concurring this forsaken world, and build a true haven for all those who seek to escape the pointless wars created by those too afraid to fight themselves! We will do what no other army could, conquer The Rock!” The crowed exploded, cheering, clapping, chanting. Syra simply shook her head and returned to her bed. She fell asleep praying that every last soldier in the King’s camp would die trying to fight in his pointless war.