Tertius

On a grounded transport ship, manned by Tertians but until recently commanded by Verdans:

“Shut up! No speaking!”

Sharp words from the youthful captor as he jabbed the bound and gagged men with the end of his club. The first was wide-eyed and groaning horribly, face to the floor, almost kissing the rubber tiles. The other two were tied so tightly they could hardly catch a breath. Their captor smiled, showing stained teeth. It could not have gone any better.

“Hey!” came a gruff voice from the top of the stairwell that led into the dark hold. “Are you done? We need you up here, doing your damn job.”

“I thought this was my job now,” said Elan, the captor.

“They’re not going anywhere and we’re hungry. Get.”

Elan nodded towards the hostages as if they were the ones issuing the order and obeyed. The hallway in which he emerged was musty and dimly lit, but he hardly noticed it. He swiped his card in the familiar lock, took his place inside the tiny kitchen, and sighed. High fat, high sugar, no creativity. With a last look at the blackness outside his window, he began preparing the crew’s meal.

In a Verdan Control outpost, captured by Tertian militia:

The yelling, the whining!

“Coot! You never shut up!”

Coot really did not shut up, even at Vanco’s remark.

“Because I’m thinking out loud, because I can’t walk, and because I want a way out!”

Vanco should have restrained himself seeing as how Coot really could not walk – his legs were broken – but spit his retort anyway.

“Maybe if you hadn’t mouthed off to the damn miners, you’d still be walking!”

“Or maybe if you hadn’t taken an unsanctioned smoke break the damn miners wouldn’t have gotten into the damn building? When I get back to Verdanus I’m filing a formal complaint. What are you doing? Hey, Vanco, come on, I wasn’t serious, PLEASE!”

Vanco had been stripped of his weapons, but their improvised holding cell had a bed in it. He had grabbed the pillow and was now smothering Coot. He had not been sure if being chosen for Tertius duty was a punishment or a privilege, but after two years of being paired with Coot, he had had enough. He grinned.

“Shut up, would ya?”

Peace and quiet ran rampant.

Sweat beaded on Ulric Jemsen's forehead and trickled past his eyes. He wiped it away with a dirty hand, yielding only more discomfort. Rand's question hung as heavy in the air as it had five minutes ago.

"Well, Jemsem, what do we do now?"

Jemsen was squinting through the viewport, looking out at the Tertian dusk. Rand still stood in the doorway to the room. Neither had had the time to shower in the past few days, and Jemsen looked to have gotten little sleep as well. Wild thoughts seemed to glare off of the reflection of his eyes in the viewport glass. Rand's patience wore thin.

"Jemsen, I said, what do we do? We rallied, we captured the 'Dandies, and we've got the mining complex. What's next?"

Ulric grasped for an answer.

"I... I have to come clean. I don't know what we should do. For Tertius' sake, I don't know why we did what we did!"

Rand was visibly jarred, and covered the distance to turn his friend to face him.

"But Jemsen - you led us! You started this whole thing! How can you not know why?!"

Although Rand Maeli had shown signs of shock first, it was Ulric who eventually broke down. Rand, having recovered several hours later, took it upon himself to assume Jemsen’s post as the leader of this tiny part of the Tertian revolution, while his hysterical friend and predecessor was carried away by a medic and a workman.

“Jemsen’s explanation bordered on the supernatural – as though a demon had posessed him. Crazy!”

He sat down at Jemsen’s desk.

“But the reports tell of rebellion planetwide – he couldn't be the only one affected. But see, I’m fine! Yet, who else might go the way of Jemsen? And who did we send to Koagrad – what if he breaks down too?”

He shuffled some papers, but no answer came.

“You know, someone is behind all of this, and he has a plan. The way I see it, we can either break down, or keep fighting and following that plan. I say we keep fighting, since Jemsen tried the other way – haha – and look how that turned out!”

Ironically, there was no one in the room to appreciate his joke.

He idled in his empty room. The void that Coot left behind offered a quiet that beat drums in Vanco's head, pounding far worse than the blabbermouth ever had. His only consolation lay in the waxing amelioration from the guards. They had passed him smokes, had returned him to a three meal schedule, and their brief company was a welcome relief. To boot, their whispers to each other had become audible enough for Vanco to overhear.

"Don't worry about it. If anything goes wrong, it'll be Jemsen's head."

"Are you daft man? Jemsen's gone off his rocker - Rand's the one giving orders now."

"Rand? Wasn't he a mechanic before? How is he qualified?"

"I think he worked the harvester, actually. I see what you mean though. This whole mess is going to get us killed."

They were relieved by a less outspoken pair. A harvester op now a rebel leader? Something had motivated such a drastic change, Vanco thought, but only in some people. He and the guards seemed fine.

"Well damn. I'd bet that none of them are Verdans."

(Near the same mining complex that Vanco is imprisoned in and that Rand and Jemsen had taken over)

The ship was too bulky and was left in orbit. The captain descended in an exploratory lander, with Horman Cambo along. The hatch opened and their air rushed out into the thin atmosphere. Horman, somewhat incredulous to the situation and thus unaware of this coming change, tried to take slow deep breaths.

"Breathe faster Cambo, hyperventilate. It's like climbing a mountain."

They had maneuvered to land into what the captain suggested to be a permanent shade, such that they would not be detected. Horman remarked on this objective to stop thinking about the somewhat painful breathing regimen.

"S-sir, but wouldn't the ship, an-and our l-lander b-be detected? On a r-regular scan?"

The captain considered.

"We've had hours to be detected and apprehended. I think the comm tower is simply not manned. Let's get moving."

"S-s-simply, sir? I w-wish we had a sq-sqaud with us..."

The captain eyed him, then produced a device.

"Speaking of Cambo, here's a beamer. Just in case."

They moved toward the mining complex.

"Lieutenant General Lorien, our radars have picked up the signal of a lander near our territory."
Selvaria turned to look down at the two soldiers.
"Of what type?"
"Well, the radar stations aren't in the best condition, so we couldn't really identify it...its signal didn't seem to be Eurovan, however."
Selvaria grunted. "It couldn't be Eurovan anyway."
"What shall we do?"
"Send three squads of soldiers and two tanks to check it out on the ground. Have a squad of aircraft view the situation from the air. At the first sign of hostilities, annihilate the lander and anyone in it."
"Yes si...ma'am," the soldier corrected, quailing under Selvaria's demonic glare. "The squads will be out immediately."
He took off with great speed, eager to carry out the Lieutenant General's orders.
Selvaria turned back to her paperwork.
So...could this be what we were waiting for? Could this lander be of Verdan origins?
A message was sent to all other nations, informing them of the situation.

Meanwhile, the Eurovan forces were approaching the lander...

"Eight guards visible...three civilians...the outpost. All are confirmed, there must be at least 10 more in there. All of them are armed with standard lazer rifles. I'm hardly doubting any of them are feeling nice today, either." said a tough-looking 6'1" man. He spoke with a deep, but calming tone. He was a familiar face in the dark days that had come in Tetrius. Although to be fair, few people had ever seen his face. Dominique kept himself out of public eye, for the very duty he had taken upon himself. He was a rebel leader, and right now, he was about to risk his life breaking out a man named Vanco.

"Is everyone ready..? I know this is scary, and nobody wants to do it..but please. We mustn't forget that passion in our hearts! We've got to help this civil war on Tertius. We must also not forget where we came from, Verdanus. The man in here is from Verdanus, and was imprisoned for no good reason. We've got to help him enjoy the freedom we currently have. Come on!" He said in a low, but strong, and fiery voice. The six men around him grinned and brought their arms and fists to a level that seemed as if they were blocking with a shield. That was their signal.