Alpha Nebula Read online

  Selfish pricks.

  The slaves were simply neglected when it came to cleanliness; they were essentially animals who were treated like animals. Inside the dirty, weathered walls sat a little girl, no more than 10 years old. Isolated from others, she played with rocks in the corner, using the full extent of her young, limitless imagination. She was Tarian-looking, but not completely. She had elf-like ears like the Avayans did, and she had the same bright, light-blue eyes as well. However, she has a Tarian tail. She obviously had a bit of both in her genes.

  Some people would consider her quite cute. By some people, I mean me. I’m talking about me.

  “Hey!” A guard noticed her all alone, taking it as her being up to mischief.

  She looked at him, then went back to minding her own business. She had learnt that keeping quiet and keeping to yourself was the best way to survive inside the walls, but not every time. He began to get aggressive, even threatening the young girl, before she had a chance to react to his demands. The guard struck the child across the face with his armoured hand. A teardrop descended her cheek and there was visible damage to the flesh on her face.

  Gee, this guy’s a bit of a dick, isn’t he?

  He grabbed her arm and began to drag her away. She screamed as he did so. She struggled against his will but was ultimately no match for the colossal grip of a fully-grown Avayan man. The girl was hauled through the sand, rocks, and dust. The guard had no regard for her well-being. She felt like she was being dragged over stone and broken glass. Scrapes and bruises were already birthing on her body.

  That’s a funny way of describing something: birthing. Last night a pimple was birthing on my ass. It just sounds weird to me.

  The brutal Avayan was suddenly and violently hurled into the air. He floated up and was vigorously tossed into a nearby wall. It all happened with no apparent explanation; he was like a rag doll that was tossed around by an unknown puppet master. The girl turned to see a tall, thin being. He stood seven feet tall and was extremely thin, almost like bones. He had very long limbs, and his skin was white like the clouds floating way above.

  He held his hands up to pray, “Forgive me, Calhalla.”

  Great! A religious nut-job.

  “Are you all right?” He asked as he crouched to check on her.

  “You killed him,” she said, looking over at the guard’s motionless body.

  “Oh, don't worry. He’s merely unconscious. Come on, we should leave before anybody finds out what happened here.”

  Merely unconscious? The man was shoved face first into a solid steel wall, at, like, sixty kilometres an hour. I’m pretty sure he’s dead—beyond dead, like you killed him in this life and the next one.

  A guard on duty high up on the wall watched as they walked off. This guard had a scar across his eye and a look of anger on his face. Having witnessed the entire event, he would surely not let it go unpunished.

  “How did you do that?” she wondered out loud as they strolled through the compound grounds.

  “I’m a Zantian, from the planet Portahan. My people possess the ability of telekinesis,” he explained.

  “Why are you here? You’re not like the other people in here,” she said.

  “I was vulnerable and weak when they found me. While they mostly take Tarians, others can also fall victim under certain circumstances. Take you, for instance. I know you’re not entirely Tarian,” the man explained.

  “My father had an affair with a slave woman. I was born in here,” she revealed.

  The guards have sex with the prisoners? That’s just lovely.

  “A cross-breed,” the Zantian responded.

  The two sat down at a nearby bench. Neither seemed to mind the dirty and poor quality it was in; it was practically falling apart.

  The Zantian turned to her. “I’m Mantis, by the way.”

  “My name is Laurelle,” she informed.

  “I’m surprised such a young girl has managed to stay alive in a place like this, especially since birth,” Mantis said. “Couldn’t have been easy. It’s hard enough for anyone, let alone a child.”

  “I mind my own business, I know what I can and cannot do,” she explained.

  “You’re quite versatile, aren't you?” he thought out loud, amazed at her apparent ability to survive under the harshest of conditions.

  “How long have you been here?” She asked.

  “Longer than I can remember. Years. Decades, I think,” Mantis told her.

  “What’s it like outside this place?” Laurelle wondered.

  “It’s a galaxy full to the brim with possibilities, where planets of beauty and wonder await. There’s a whole universe up there to discover. It’s beautiful,” Mantis explained, leaving her awestruck.

  “One day, I want to see it all,” Laurelle said, looking up at the sky with a smile radiating of wonder on her face. “One day, I will explore. I will be free from this place, and I will travel across the stars,” she imagined.

  She painted a perfect picture in her head, a work of art that existed only in her dreams.

  A horn suddenly shook the entirety of zone eleven. It blasted its way into little Laurelle’s eardrums. The horn signalled it was time for all slaves in that zone of the compound to return to their sleeping quarters. Mantis got the message loud and clear after the sound left a ringing in his strange ears; they were more like slits in the side of his head.

  “Take care, little one.” Mantis said his farewell then went on his way.

  That night, Laurelle was fast asleep. The slaves had simple sheets to sleep on, which were laid out on the floor. It was mostly just dirty rags and torn linen. The rooms were so over cramped and the slaves were forced to sleep so close to each other that they almost rubbed up against each other. The chamber also had very little ventilation, which left it consumed by heat and humidity and the smell of body odour.

  A guard made his way through the room—a guard with a scar across his eye. He covered Laurelle’s mouth and took her elsewhere. Before she knew it, she was alone with him in a utility room.

  Oh god, I don’t like where this is going.

  There were tables and tools, brooms and buckets. He made sure the door was locked behind them and then shoved the tools and supplies off a bench to clear it. He began removing his belt as she cried in the corner while tucked in a fetal position. He tugged at her arm, pulled her up, and then forced her down on the bench. This sort of thing was nothing new to her; she’d seen it all before. Laurelle knew what happened to women in this situation.

  As she laid there face down, the guard began ranting. “You think you can just do what you like, assaulting my brothers like that? You are damaged, little one, but I can guide you back.” He was clearly deranged. “I will help you, like the ones before you. They were lost as well, but I was their saviour.”

  After removing his armour, he lowered his trousers. A pool of tears surrounded her face on the bench. Fear froze her bones as fright had clenched her. Terror sent her heart racing, pulsing out of her chest and beating louder and louder. Sweat reeked from her palms. She knew what was about to happen, knowing she was helpless against the stronger man. This sadistic lunatic was breathing more and more heavily, licking his lips in anticipation.

  He leant over her to whisper in her ear, “Now, I shall set you free, my little friend.”

  She felt his warm breath on her ear and down her neck. He made sure he got a good whiff of her hair while running his fingers through it, too. He then continued running his fingers down her spine, lower and lower. She feared the moment he tore her rags off, petrified at her current vulnerability. She was trapped in a nightmare which appeared to have no end. She felt her nose closing with a mucus buildup as a result of her crying. In all her time in the slave camps, never had she felt more helpless and exposed than she did right now.

  The door busted open and smacked the opposite wall. The guard was then raised in the air, his body twisted and contorted in every way it wasn’t supposed to be.
As he fell, Laurelle saw Mantis enter the room.

  “Forgive me, Calhalla.” Once again, Mantis prayed to his Zantian god.

  He grabbed her and carried her out. The commotion had alerted nearby security, who quickly apprehended them. Mantis was whipped and beaten, as was Laurelle. They dragged the poor girl off by her hair as she kicked and screamed. Mantis was shocked by voltage rods to get him moving, his hands bound behind his back. The two of them would no doubt be punished for what had happened.

  That got a little tense there, didn’t it?

  THREE

  The Azura approached a green Planet. Jenemi was the homeworld of the Tarians, and the largest planet in the galaxy.

  Here’s some trivia for you. Travelling through the galaxy takes a matter of weeks or sometimes months, depending on the route. Ships need to be heavily-stocked with supplies before travel. The galaxy is a big place, after all.

  She descended through the clouds with white trails that followed the ship as she plunged through the upper atmosphere. Behind the cat bobblehead and through the windshield, the clouds suddenly broke away to reveal the green artistry of nature beyond. Rainforests and grasslands ran across the planet, with gigantic oceans covering a third of the world’s surface. It was a warm planet, perfect for its indigenous feline race. The ship was making its way to what appeared to be a pyramid. The ship soared over the herds below them. They had almost arrived at Nova, the capital city of Jenemi. The city was housed within the steel pyramid. At its base were antennas and relays. The outer walls consisted mostly of docking bays and transportation hubs while residential, commercial, and industrial zones, and many other attractions and facilities were inside. Most of the steel was dirty, weathered, and oily.

  The pyramid was so large that its base was greater than the size of Russia. Man, Russia was awesome. I’ll definitely be visiting that place again. I just can’t go back into that gay clu— Umm, to that club again.

  The grey-coated Azura touched down at the docks of the royal palace. The ship’s legs extended from the hull as she made contact with the platform and the cat bobblehead stopped shaking. The engines powered down, and the ramp opened as the two brothers descended to be greeted by the welcoming party. Several officials in formal robes stood in wait.

  “Welcome back to the homeland, my princes,” one acquainted them.

  Akrillis shook his hand. “Byron, my friend, it’s good to be back.”

  “Tell me, did you enjoy your adventures out?” Byron asked.

  Akrillis simply smiled for a moment before replying. “Our trip was eventful, as it always is with my brother. We best get moving; father will surely want to see us.”

  The three men began walking to the entrance.

  “No doubt, our king will be more than eager to know his sons have returned,” Byron said as he led them up to the palace.

  Inside were waterfalls and greenery, the marble palace was a sight to behold.

  Vanakis stretched his arms then sighed, “It’s good to be home.”

  A Tarian woman came down the stairs and approached Akrillis. When he saw her, he smiled and went for a hug. “Mera,” he said.

  The two shared a passionate kiss. They could feel each other’s warm embrace at last. He missed the incredible smell of her long, black, flowing hair.

  She looked at him with joy. “Your father wishes to see you—both of you,” she said, quickly looking over at his younger brother as well.

  Vanakis rolled his eyes.

  King Papyrus was the ruler of the Tarian people. He stood on a balcony overlooking the landscape. He could see the grassy plains to the north and the dense rainforests to the west, with a sky of blue above. His two sons came out to meet him. As the doors slid open, two steel mammoths moved in opposite directions to clear the way. As the king turned, Vanakis immediately recognised something, ‘I know that look,’ he thought to himself.

  “Done exploring, are we?” Papyrus questioned them.

  Vanakis was quick to jump in. “Yeah, not much to talk about.” He went and leaned on the railing, “Quite boring, actually.”

  “So, why have I been told that the ship has scrape marks on its underside?” his father asked.

  “Well, you know how dodgy these maintenance workers are, scratching and damaging things as they supposedly do their job,” said Vanakis. “It’s a wonder the ship’s in as good condition as it is.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Papyrus said before looking at Akrillis.

  “We ran into a bit of a snag,” Akrillis quickly fessed up.

  Vanakis looked at him and shrugged his arms in disbelief. “Okay, we may have a hit a mountain. Really, it’s no biggy,” Vanakis revealed.

  Papyrus rolled his eyes. “And where was this mountain?”

  “Oh, Portahan,” Vanakis assured his father.

  “Etherel,” Akrillis fessed up once more.

  “Oh, c’mon, really?” his brother said under his breath.

  “You two know the rules about going into Avayan territory. You are not to go near hostile worlds. Val, I've had enough of your ridiculous treasure hunts. This hobby of yours is causing more problems than anything else I deal with as a king,” Papyrus lectured.

  Vanakis chuckled, “C’mon, no one’s gettin' hurt. We know what we’re doing.”

  “One day, that luck will run out, son, and I won’t be there to save you,” his father assured him firmly. He gave a stern look to Vanakis.

  They shared an awkward moment of silence. Both showed their relief when Akrillis finally chimed in.

  “Look, father, I’m sure it’s not going to happen again. Right Val?” Akrillis asked.

  “Sure,” his brother responded, not sounding even close to serious.

  “Right?” Akrillis repeated, with a tone.

  “Of course not. I wouldn't dream of it,” Vanakis said as he began to walk off, with a cheeky grin on his face.

  “I expect better from you,” Papyrus told his son. “Vanakis has always been a troublemaker, but you are the older one, Akrillis—the heir to my throne. You should know better.”

  “I know. I let him talk me into it again. No surprise he’s got people after him,” Akrillis informed his father.

  Papyrus rolled his eyes at what he had already expected. The two of them looked out over the horizon, deep in their thoughts. There was surprisingly very little wind so high up near to top of the giant steel pyramid.

  “One of these days, he’s going to end up causing some serious problems,” Akrillis said.

  His father sighed, “As opposed to the ones he causes now?”

  “I mean, worse than when you had to apologise to the Rykaan people,” Akrillis chuckled.

  Oh, the Rykaan Incident—that was a real doozy among Val’s troubles. Let’s just say people were very offended, and Vanakis can’t come within one-thousand feet of their prime minister. She was, quote, feeling violated afterwards.

  “Well, I best be off, I’ve got some things to attend to,” Akrillis explained as he left his father alone on the balcony.

  Deep within the heart of this pyramid city, the streets were crowded to the brim with people. Being inside the structure meant no natural light. Only the neon signs, bright LED’s and flashing advertisements were needed. Nova was like being in an enormous city with a roof overhead. Tall buildings reached from the ground up to the ceiling, and there were different levels, each housing its own structures and streets. A rail system ran through the labyrinth, and served as the most common form of transportation. The city was divided into classes (and stereotypes). Generally, the further down you lived, the poorer and less fortunate you were. Conversely, the higher up you lived, the wealthier and more stable you were. This was the case for all cities on Jenemi, all of which shared the same pyramid shape. Nova was the largest by far, with an estimated population of around 2.5 billion residents. It was so overpopulated, in fact, that the lower city had become an overcrowded homeless den. The slums were now littered with the needy and desperate and w
ere filthy and polluted. On the opposite side of the spectrum, those finding their homes in the upper city resided in penthouses and gorgeous resorts.

  But that’s enough of this info dump. Let’s get on with the story. First, we’ll set the scene.

  The city housed a stadium which hosted many things, such as operas and concerts, but the most common attraction was Gruebur—a ball game played in zero gravity with two teams battling to score the most points. Outside the stadium, the rumble of the crowd could be heard roaring over the city’s ambience. Akrillis and Mera sat in the front row, enjoying each other’s company with the local entertainment.

  “I missed you,” she confessed.

  “I missed you, too. We did find something quite interesting this time—a dagger of some sort,” Akrillis informed her.

  “Your brother’s ridiculous adventures have finally returned something, then,” she chuckled.

  “He just likes to explore and get up to no good…and get me in a lecture, and cause problems for foreign diplomats,” Akrillis laughed.

  “Look at these people,” she said, referring to the thousands around them. “You are to be their king one day, you know. You can’t afford to go risking your life. These people need you. I need you,” Mera reminded him with a smile of happiness painted on her face.

  “I know, and I want to be all that I can be for them. I just don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fill my father’s shoes.” Doubt ran through him as he pondered the future. As a kid, he wanted nothing more than to be a king; now, as an adult, he feared whether he could be a very good ruler at all.