Loksfjoer

RPGC #1-14 Trophy Case

RPGC#4 - Lies

The full list of runner-ups, staff picks, special category winners and honourable mentions can be found here.

Winning entry: The Mirror Boy, by @Alice

"I still have friends," Tina whispered, her long tangled hair cascaded over her thin shoulders. She looked at the mirror across her room. It was attached to her dresser and just like the mirror in her bathroom, it was covered with black tape. Tina did not want to see herself.

"Do I still matter?"

There was a boy in the mirror that she could not see with her eyes, but knew everything he did, as if they had a mystical connection. The mirror boy nodded at her question, causing a crooked smile to break out on her pale face.

"You always agree with me, don't you?" She pulled her knees up to her chest and giggled, the sound empty and haunted.

"You'll be with me to the end, won't you?"

The mirror boy nodded again. Tina glanced at the mirror and at the tape; she blinked a couple times, slightly frowning, something nagging at the back of her mind, but she ignored the feeling. She stood up and walked toward the mirror, reaching out as if to touch the tape, but pulled back at the last minute. If the tape was removed, her fantasy would be shattered. She would only see a small little girl staring back and not the friend she thought was there.

The friend was a nice looking boy, around sixteen or so. He was quiet and he never talked, always nodded and agreed. They were in love. It was the perfect relationship. The boy went everywhere with her. He was always there by her heart.

"Do you love me?" She asked.

Nod.

"Do you want to marry me?"

Nod.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

She got two nods that time, and she could not help but blush.

"You shouldn't tease me, it makes me feel all flustered inside." Tina twisted blonde strands of hair between her fingers as she glanced toward where the boy would be standing behind the tape.

The boy was smiling now and starting to really tease her.

"I mean it, don't tease me!" She did not like being teased.

The boy's smile grew.

"Is there a reason for this?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Can't we ever have a normal conversation?" Tina was only fourteen and not quite ready for the next step in their relationship, though they were in love and going steady. Why did he insist on teasing her?

The mirror boy's smile faded.

"So you're sorry now?" Tina asked.

Nod.

"Will you kiss and make up?" She leaned forward and turned her head, offering her check. Her eyes closed and she smiled slightly.

The boy in the mirror smiled back and Tina was sure she felt his lips brush her cheek.

He was real to Tina. When everything in the world faded, the mirror boy stayed with her. He laughed at her jokes, and cried when she cried. It was always sad to Tina how she could never see the mirror boy with her eyes and the image she saw in her head was always in shadows. The tape always made him dark, almost impossible to make out, but it had to be there; it had to be on every mirror.

She had long forgotten why, nor did she care.

Sitting back down on her bed, away from the mirror boy, she put her face in her hands. She felt cold and sad all the time though. A tear fell down her cheek and she started to shiver.

She wanted the mirror boy to hold her, but never could she feel his arms around her.

Tina curled up into a ball and started to cry; she cried for what felt like forever.

"Please don't cry," whispered a voice.

She looked up and smiled. "You're here?" She said in surprise.

A boy stood next to her, probably sixteen years old. He looked like her best friend that she lost so many years ago in car wreck. She had been the only survivor in the car. Ever since that day, Tina had felt herself go insane with grief. The mirror boy had took his place and over the years she fell in love with him.

"I came." The boy smiled. "I got you a present."

Tina wiped at her tearing eyes. "Me?"

"Yes, close your eyes."

She happily closed her eyes, waiting and waiting and waiting for her present. Her forehead wrinkled after a long while of waiting. Nothing was happening.

"Um, can I open my eyes, please?"

There was no answer.

Finally she just had to open them. The boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did you go?" She cried, jumping up and frantically looking all around. The door to her room was locked and could only be opened from the outside. How had he got in and where could he have gone? Tina checked the tiny bathroom attached to her bedroom. There was no sign of him. Just the sink, toilet and mirror covered in black tape.

"Oh, don't go! Please!" Her tears came back and she cried more than she had since the accident.

"Mirror boy!" She screamed. Was he gone too? She ran to the mirror, her eyes wild with fear. She sighed in relief, starting to calm down. He was still there and giving her a concerned look.

"Don't worry, I'm okay," She told the mirror boy.

She walked over to her bedroom door and looked out the tiny window that showed a long hallway of many doors just like hers. Tina tilted her head to the side, confused for a moment, but then she remembered the mirror boy.

"I'm fine. You're with me."

RPGC #1-14 Trophy Case

RPGC#3 - The cosmos

The full list of runner-ups, staff picks, special category winners and honourable mentions can be found here.

Winning entry: A tale of two solderis, by @Keyguyperson

The sun of Matrouh shone down on the rolling desert sands of its light side, the constant wind of the tidally-locked world the only thing that cooled the men of the 69th Infantry Brigade. The battle for the planet had been raging for almost a month, but the constant light had a way of messing with one's senses. In fact, despite the ever-present sun, it was almost midnight. It was as if it hadn't even been a day since the Terrans had landed. Combined with the heat, the disorientation was taking quite a toll on both Carina and Terran forces.

What little protection the dunes offered was augmented by sandbags, still a common sight on battlefields. The tightly-packed sand held within was, surprisingly, enough to stop a handheld railgun slug. Of course, it was absolutely useless against anything else. Despite the somewhat subpar cover, neither army had managed to breach the other's lines. They were both just too dug in to be broken.

The railgun of Yehiel Chatzkel laid upon the barrier of sandbags, besides those of the rest of his division. He stood out like a sore thumb in the line of lightly-furred Carina. His stark white wings made it quite clear that he was a Murtaden, a far cry from the vaguely marsupial Carina. The Carina Empire had few Murtaden in its ranks, and he hadn't met another in quite some time.

He felt lucky about his assignment to Matrouh, and the sector as a whole to a lesser extent. The Terrans were notorious for their cruelty to the Murtaden, but the Terran officer assigned to take Matrouh was known for his relative mercy towards them. If he was captured, he likely wouldn't end up in the worst case scenario of a Terran death camp. Unfortunately, the same officer was better known for his tactical genius than his mercy.

"You must be feeling pretty good." Said a soldier next to Yehiel, surprising him. He hadn't really noticed his brothers-in-arms, and as much as he wanted to believe it was because he was too focused on scanning the horizon for the enemy, his ignorance was the result of him being half-asleep.

"Huh?" He responded, turning to look at the man. Like most of the other Carina, he was licking his forearms in an attempt to cool them off. It was an odd thing for a Murtaden, but to the Carina, it was just a natural reaction to heat.

"You don't have to deal with the fur." Said the man, in-between licks. "With the wind, I bet you're just fine. Especially with that water on you."

"No, I'm just as hot as you. That's sweat."

The other soldier looked confused for a moment, despite the obvious drops of sweat on Yehiel's skin. It was a reaction Yehiel had gotten a lot during basic training. Though Carina sweat, the only sign of it they had was wet fur. Very rarely did one realize that someone without fur was actually sweating, instead thinking it was just something that had been spilled on them. It went both ways, too. Furless, sweating species almost never noticed a Carina's sweat.

"So that's what that is." Said the soldier, laughing. "I thought someone had to wake you up by pouring water on your head!"

"Well of course that's not what happened, nobody can sleep in this heat!"

The two shared a laugh, an action that despite all the differences between their species, was common to both of them. For that brief moment, neither cared about the battle.

---

"Sergeant Günther!" Said Hariwini, turning to face the Terran soldier who had rushed into his tent. He was clearly hoping to hear some good news, Günther, however, was clearly about to deliver the exact opposite. "Do we have our supplies?"

"The fleet went down, Field Marshall." Said Günther, his head held low as if the loss was a result of his own blunder. "It was intercepted by Free Saggitarius ships in the Galactic Core. The only ship to make it was bringing provisions."

Hariwini sighed, leaning down on the table in the center of the tent. The map upon it ripped slightly as his hands pushed it apart.

"Fantastic." He said sarcastically "We get to run out of fuel and ammunition before we run out of food."

Günther was silent. Hariwini had always cared about his men, sometimes more than they cared about themselves. The battle wasn't going well, and Hariwini knew it more than any other. The way things were going, his forces would have to retreat to Matrouh's green belt. A retreat would be costly. If they lost the planet itself then they would have to avoid the Carina starfleet, a force renowned for centuries for its size and expertise.

"Damn those Norma! If their High Command knew what the hell they were doing, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

A gust of wind came in through the tent's doorway, bringing sand with it. The gust threw the sand up onto the table, sprinkling it all over the map. Hariwini growled quietly, dusting it off violently. As he did so, he couldn't help but wonder what right Matrouh had to be such a strategically important world. The only things that actually mattered on it were the outposts on the light side, which let the Carina ships refuel on their way to the two main Naval theaters of the war. If not for them, the planet would be nothing more than a tiny little colony.

"Sir, our defensive lines are still strong. I'm sure we can hold out long enough for-"

"This operation failed the moment we were cut off! The worst part is that Könntesein will kill me if I pull us out! We need reinforcements that don't exist, dammit! I can't pull this off!"

"Sir, you just said it yourself, we can't retreat. You're the Wolf of the Core, surely you can pull this off!"

"Sergeant, you are dismissed."

Hariwini hung his head in defeat, clutching the map tightly with his fingers. The worst had come to pass, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He made it clear to Günther that he had no desire to hear the words "Wolf of the Core" anytime soon.

"Understood, Sir" Said Günther, leaving the tent.

Surely he just needs to think about it. He thought, reassuring himself as he walked back out into the sweltering heat of the desert. He's the Wolf of the Core, he always has a plan.

---

The noise of moving tank treads could be heard in the distance as reinforcements from the other defensive locations closed in. None of the tank crews were particularly excited with the idea of going up against the far superior Terran hovertanks, but they had little choice. Even with their supplies cut off, the Terrans were holding their lines well thanks to their minefield. If the Carina wanted to reclaim the rest of the planet, they would have to act before enemy supplies managed to get through.

A dust storm loomed on the horizon, not a major one, but a dust storm nonetheless. Seeing an opportunity, the Carina General had hastily put together a plan. He had ordered the 69th and 24th Infantry Brigades, along with two armored forces and a Corps of soldiers from one of the Carina colonies in the Lower Galactic Core, to breach the Terran lines. The soldiers from the LGC were to make a hole in the Terran minefield near one of the many ridges on the battlefield, through which the 69th and 24th would advance and take their respective objectives. The armored forces were both ordered to disrupt the Terran communications lines. Combined with the cover given by the dust storm, it was hoped that after three separate tries, the Carina would finally defeat the Terrans.

Already, the LGC Corps was advancing for the minefield. By midnight, the dust storm would have arrived and they would have breached the mines. The Terrans wouldn't be expecting an attack in the middle of a dust storm, which gave the Carina a major advantage. For once, they would be carrying out an attack that gave them the advantage. Everyone was sure that this was it, that this would be the last time they would have to assault the Terran lines on the light side of Matrouh.

Despite how successful the operation was set up to be, everyone was tense. Just because the operation would succeed didn't mean there wasn't any danger. The Terrans were some of the best fighters in the galaxy, and everybody knew that there would be casualties. Everyone had the same chances of being wounded, the same chances of dying. The father of three could die just like the young man of eighteen, the slug of a railgun doesn't care who it hits.

Yehiel knelt behind the sandbags, watching the LGC Corps leave the safety of the defensive position. He'd survived the Battle on Alazag, but that was just luck. Luck that he feared had run out.

The General was giving a speech, talking about the importance of Matrouh and how everybody had to be at their best for the operation to succeed. Nobody was listening, of course. It was the same thing they had been told the last two times they attacked the Terran lines, there was no need to hear it again. In fact, it was probably better that they didn't hear it. All it would do would be to remind them of the past failures.

"We move on the signal of the LGC Corps!" Yelled the General, finishing his speech. It was the only part anyone heard, purely because it was voiced as an order.

"Yes Sir!" Came the unanimous reply of the soldiers who had reached the staging area. Their voiced enthusiasm was a flawlessly executed performance.

---

"Problems with the dust, Sergeant?"

Günther was in the middle of a coughing fit thanks to the sand that flew all around the air. He'd always had a hard time dealing with it, and the assignment to the Galactic Core had been a nightmare for him. The inhabited planets were mostly desert, and he'd had to endure much worse dust storms. The only upside was that Hariwini cared about his soldiers more than he did their body count, which was unfortunately an abnormality among Terran generals.

"Yeah." Said Günther, pausing as he coughed. "But I'm more worried about what comes with it. Hariwini expects the Carina to use it as cover for an attack. He's ordered everyone into defensive positions, but in these conditions, it'll be hard to stop them before it's too late."

"He's the Wolf of the Core, I'm sure-" Began the other soldier, but he was cut off by the sound of explosions in the distance. The minefield was being set off.

"Enough talk, Private. Wake the rest of the squad, we'll be needed soon."

"Yes Sir!" The soldier said, saluting before he ran off to the tents.

The other soldiers were rushing around the camp, some of them only recently haven been woken. They were grabbing their railguns and preparing the tanks for battle, some of them running down the ridge to man defensive turrets. Nobody was wondering whether or not they would drive off the attack, they had succeeded the other two times. They were just wondering whether or not they would live or die.

Looks like Hariwini was right again. Thought Günther I just hope that we haven't bitten off more than we can chew.

---

At least the General made the right decision. Thought Yehiel, staring ahead into the dust storm. Of course, the only reason he knew it was ahead was because everyone else was looking that way. Visibility was practically zero in the dust storm, making the advance much safer. While it might make it harder to spot enemies, the same went for the Terrans. Once they had made it through their lines, they could easily take their objectives from the unsuspecting soldiers guarding them.

A flare went up deep within the dust storm, just barely bright enough to be seen. It was the signal to advance. Almost immediately, the Carina moved out. The tank below Yehiel lurched as it began to move, an unfortunate side effect of having treads. Terrans got the luxury of having smooth acceleration when they rode on top of their tanks.

Normally, the infantry would be riding inside of APCs, but they had lost most of the vehicles to the Terrans in the last two attacks. Riding on top of tanks was the only way to get most of the 69th to the front, not that it was a rare sight. Most soldiers remembered a time when they had to ride on a tank during either an attack or a simple relocation. After all, APCs weren't known for their ability to combat tanks, especially not Terran ones.

An explosion went off nearby, but all Yehiel could see was the flash. It was a tank that had crossed the edge of the gap in the minefield, sentencing its crew to death. At least, that's what he hoped it had been. The only alternative was artillery fire, which would make it clear that the Terrans knew where they were. If they did, then the operation would be a complete failure.

He felt the tank begin to slow, prompting him and the rest of his squad to jump off into the desert sands. The rest of the soldiers were doing the same, and some of the tanks turned their turrets to the left and the right to cover the departing troops. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, but the orderly departure of the troops was interrupted by a scream. Nobody knew who it belonged to, but everyone heard it loud and clear.

"TERRANS ON THE LEFT FLANK!"

Sure enough, a stream of railgun slugs flew towards the 69th. Yehiel ran to the nearest cover that there was, a small rock just in front of him. He returned fire with his own railgun, but in the dust storm, it was doubtful that he actually managed to hit anything. If he had, then he was lucky in more ways than one thanks to the low visibility of the dust storm. He wouldn't need to know the face of the man he killed.

The tanks opened fire in tandem with the rest of the 69th, the thunderous sound of their cannons shaking Yehiel's chest. Squads rushed forward, some being hit by enemy fire, some being lucky enough to make it to cover. The commander of Yehiel's squad yelled for an advance, and he obeyed. Railgun slugs flew past him, some just barely missing him. His luck hadn't run out just yet.

"Keep pushing!" Yelled the Sergeant, and Yehiel once again obeyed. As he rushed forward into the Terran fire, he prayed silently in his head. Praying that the Terran fire pass him by.

But the slug of a railgun doesn't care who it hits.

He fell onto the sand, dropping his railgun. White feathers stained with the crimson red of blood flew up into the dust storm, carried away by its wind. The shredded remains of his left wing lay on the ground beside him, blood pouring out onto the already tainted sand. The pain was simply too much. All he could sense in that moment was the horrid pain in his wing. He couldn't stand, he couldn't even move. All he could do was cry out in the bloodcurdling scream of a soldier in pain

---

The br-zap of railguns filled the ears of Günther as he blindly fired his own weapon into the dust storm. The Carina forces had arrived, and the Terrans were prepared. Even so, it was obvious that they would need to pull back. While they expected the attack, they didn't expect the entire enemy force to arrive at the same time. Most of the heavy forces were being held back, the idea having been that the Carina would have continued their advance if they thought they could still succeed. Unfortunately, the enemy was better prepared than they had anticipated.

"Get to cover!" He yelled to his squad, ducking behind a rock. "Hold them as long as you can!"

A tank shell landed near another soldier next to him, sending shrapnel into them as they fell out of cover to be hit by an enemy railgun slug. Some of the shrapnel hit Günther himself, but he was lucky enough to have it be stopped by his armor. Mostly, that is. Some of it tore into his arm, enough to cause him to yelp out in pain, but not enough to make him useless. He lifted his railgun and fired a barrage towards the Carina, hoping that he might, by some coincidence, hit whoever killed the soldier next to him.

A railgun fired from behind a nearby rock, its slugs just barely missing Günther. The Carina had gained so much ground in so little time, there was barely any reason to even try to hold the position.

"ALL FORCES, FALL BACK!" Yelled the Captain of his Company, and Günther thanked God that the Captain knew when to quit. He raised his railgun once more, firing at the rock nearby.

"I'll cover your retreat, get out of here!" He yelled to his squad, who didn't question the order for a second. The Carina behind the rock looked out to aim for a shot, and Günther immediately opened fire. One of his slugs hit the man right in the head, the force was enough to kill him instantly.

Günther himself started to fall back, diving over another rock behind him and firing a few shots. The nearest cover was a sand dune nearly parallel to him, aside from it, there was another, smaller rock a ways behind him. He chose to go for the sand dune, which provided more cover and was closer. It also let him cover the retreat of his squad better, since it was closer to the enemy.

He jumped out of cover and ran to the dune, just barely making it through the Carina fire. He took a moment to catch his breath, looking around him to see it anyone else was at the dune. As it happened, someone else had made it. The moment Günther laid eyes on the red-furred alien, he knew that he had made the last mistake of his life.

A hail of railgun slugs from the Carina soldier hit Günther, dropping him onto the ground. He was barely alive, not that it mattered. There was no way he would survive. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes, he made what he thought would be his last plea.

Let the squad make it out of this.

---

Yehiel awoke to the coughing fit of a soldier next to him, his wing still burning with pain. Openeing his eyes, he found himself on a cot in the medical tent at one of the defensive posts along the line. Doctors rushed around the tent, desperately trying to keep everyone inside of it alive. As much as they tried, there would still be deaths. It was an inevitable fact of medicine that some patients will be lost. Even so, they still tried. If a single man lived when he could have died, then they had won a victory.

He closed his eyes again, the light was just too much. The soldier next to him kept coughing, making Yehiel notice the ever-present dust that had made its way into even the medical tent. A few others were coughing-for obvious reasons-but none of them like him. Yehiel opened his eyes for a brief moment to look at the soldier, and he saw that he had lost both his legs, not to mention plenty of blood. His skin was pale and bare, the closest thing to fur being his short-cut, blonde hair. A pair of dog tags lay on a stool between the two cots, reading "Sgt Günther, 7th Motor Brigade". He was a Terran.

Yehiel couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

He reached out for Günther's hand, clasping it with his own. Günther opened his own eyes, looking over at Yehiel. He could only keep them open for a split second, but it was enough to see Yehiel's wings. With the strength he had, he returned the gesture and clasped Yehiel's hand. Neither of them cared that they could have been firing at each other, neither of them cared that the other could have been the one who hit them. In that moment, they just cared that both of them were people, people in the same situation.

"Viel glück." Whispered Günther, his grasp on Yehiel's hand slowly slipping. Yehiel just held Günther's hand harder, refusing to let it go. He didn't know any Terran languages, but he could tell what the words meant.

"Viel glück." He responded, once again tightening his grip. He opened his eyes for just a moment before he fell asleep in his exhaustion.

Günther was smiling.

---

Yehiel woke up again, finding a doctor standing above him. He looked over to the cot where Günther had been, finding it empty. There was warm metal in his hand, an oddity which he couldn't help but investigate. He brought his hand up to his eyes, opening it to find Günther's dog tags.

"What happened to the soldier next to me?" He asked the doctor, setting his hand down beside him, still clutching the dog tags.

"He died during the night, you were still holding hands."

Author's Note

This story is loosely based off of the First Battle of El Alamein, thus the name of the planet (Matrouh), which is the name of the Egyptian Governate which El Alamein is located in. Hariwini takes the role of Erwin Rommel, and I'm sure you understand the reference to his nickname. The Carina (From the Carina-Saggitarius arm, which also happens to be home to the analogue to the French) represent the British, the Norma are the Italians (From the Norma Arm, of course), and as they did in the other story of mine set in the same universe (Never Forget), the Terrans represent the Germans. Now, that's not the point of the story, of course. The point is that it's based on a true story.

There really were two soldiers, one British one German, who were injured in the battle of El Alamein (Whether it was the First or Second one I don't know, unfortunately). The were in a field hospital next to each other, and really did hold hands through the night. I'd talk about the references in the battle, but I feel like that's all you need to know.

RPGC #1-14 Trophy Case

RPGC#2 - Power

The winner of this contest was disqualified, so to honour goes to the two runner-ups.

The full list of runner-ups, staff picks, special category winners and honourable mentions can be found here.

Winning entry: King, by @RomanAria

Silvery metal encircles her head
Crimson stone rivals the flame in her eyes
Her crimson-stained blades have left thirteen men dead
And I alone can know that she lies.

The circlet gleams with a light from within
As she faces her court and raises her eyes
I alone see her a temptress of sin;
I see an enemy that I should despise.

Thirteen cold men are dead by her hands;
Men who threatened her “divine” right to rule.
Men who, foolish, tried to make demands;
Her blades were cunning and her mind was cruel.

The stones on her crown shine red in the light;
Stones that were bought by a blood-fueled hate
Tonight at last will be the final night;
Tonight by my blade she will meet her fate.

The floor shines ivory beneath my heels
But my eyes are focused on her, The One
I must ignore whatever I feel
At least, until the deed is done.

Ah! She knows why I have come!
She sees, she knows; my hand goes to my blade.
Thinly she smiles; my heart pounds as a drum
She raises a hand; she’ll let herself be played?

Regal, ethereal, she descends from her throne;
Holds out her hand and is presented her knife.
The guards hold the court and let the duel alone;
The terrible duel to the end of a life.

The thin crimson smile, like a blood-covered blade
A mocking half-curtsy as she crosses the room
The weapons are strong, for her dainty hands made;
But lover, I’m stronger, and you will meet your doom.

Her sword darts to mine, a lightning-white arc
Her heart is on fire; her mind is set.
I parry and slash, with spark after spark,
And soon she grows tired… The once chance I’ll get.

My blade flashes up with a mind of its own.
My lover’s heart pierces, and with flash of my sorrow,
She falls to the ground, now dainty, now frail, now alone,
And I am the King of her Queendom with the dawn of the morrow.

---

And: Enhanced, by @Ellri

OOC: The use of "cycles" in the story is meant to equal a month. For unspecific reasons, the setting world has 11 months per year.
~~~
Though the City of Valmerr was far from bankrupt, it did not have access to unlimited money either. As such, the further you got from the city core and the main thoroughfares, the greater the distance between the streetlights. In the old workman quarter near the great river Nith, the lights faded with sunset as the few remaining factories shut down for the night and the workers went home. On this evening, with just a tiny sliver of the moon visible, the cramped streets were dim indeed. The few who were out and about all walked resolutely towards their goal, paying no heed to anyone else other than to avoid crashing into them.

In some ways, the fading light was peaceful. In others, it was menacing. Some might even have said malevolent. It was upon just one such street, not far from the river itself, that the woman known as Elis ní Arailt walked. Like most others she was headed home after a long day's work. She wasn't anything special. Average height, average build, A worker's green jumpsuit that clearly had seen better days, her fairly short, brown hair was just long enough to be tied into a ponytail at the back of her head. In other words, the average young factory worker.

What thoughts were going through her head is impossible to say. Perhaps she thought of her work, or perhaps she thought of what to make for dinner. Or it might have been the coworker she had a special eye out for. Her expression revealed nothing about it. After turning another corner, she passed the small square where the old fountain stood, now topped by the holographic projector used by the government newscasters. The gleaming metal framework holding the projector up contrasted heavily with the ancient stone of the fountain. In fact, it contrasted with everything in the square.

She was thankful the projector was inactive at this time, as all it brought these days was bad news. Elis picked up her pace, wanting to be far away just in case the projector fired up again. By the time the projector was both out of sight and out of hearing, she could see no other people around her at all. On one hand, it was a relief. No others meant nobody to trouble her. On the other hand, it meant nobody to see if something did happen.

With that thought in mind, she touched her wrist where the government tracker implant lay, then kept walking home. The only warning she had was a sudden, but very short, burst of air. She did not know what to make of it, let alone have time to think on it, before someone grabbed her from behind.

She started to scream, but before she could, a hand covered in a glove of matte black leather pressed a small piece of foul-smelling cloth against her mouth and nose. Then she knew no more.

~|~

Ever so slowly, Elis started to regain consciousness. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wool, her eyes refused to open yet. Her throat felt parched. She tried to shift and found that she was not bound. In the distance, she could faintly hear someone speaking.

“Is she compatible?” A man said, his clear baritone timbre ringing through the air. She was curious who he might be. And where she was, for that matter, but continued listening in silence.

“Yes, doctor. All test and scans indicate she is a prime specimen. You will not be disappointed.” Someone else answered, this one having a somewhat higher-pitched voice.

“Excellent. Start the procedure immediately.” The first one answered.

Her head starting to clear up, Elis wondered what procedure they were speaking of. She managed to open her eyes a little. There wasn't much to see. She appeared to be in a brightly lit room with dark green walls. Along the wall before her, she could see a series of glass windows, through which she could observe a number of men, all dressed in charcoal-black lab coats. They were scurrying about, pressing buttons on holographic consoles much like the ones she normally assembled at the factory. She didn't know who had spoken earlier, but she had a vague feeling that at least one of them was no longer there. And that they had been speaking of her.

Suddenly, all around her, machinery whirred to life. She started looking around, trying to take in details about the room she was in. Anything to understand what was happening. To her shock, she found that she was floating over some sort of platform, levitated by some sort of machine. All around her, stood machines of all sorts, none of which were of familiar designs. However, like the holographic projector back in the square, they all gleamed as all the government tech did.

Many of the machines around her opened up, articulated arms extending out, reaching for her. She tried to squirm away, but suspended as she was, she was unable to actually move away. Within moments, the machines had grabbed her wrists, ankles, effectively immobilizing her. The servomotors built into the robotics were far too strong for anyone, let alone a woman like her, to overpower. She could only watch as another set of arms lowered down from the ceiling and started undressing her. The robotics operated with surgical precision, using some sort of focused laser beams to cut through the cloth where the arms restraining her prevented them from removing it intact. Before a minute had passed, the machines had finished their task and she was suspended there, as naked as the day she had been born.

Her only relief at this point, was twofold. Firstly, the technicians on the other side of the glass windows appeared not to be watching her and secondly, the air in the room was comfortably warm. The robotic arms then rotated her so that she faced the floor. When she lifted her head to try to see what they were doing next, she quickly found her head pushed gently back down. What happened next almost made her think the ones doing this to her had a sort of sense of humor, for moments later, an antique monitor rose from the floor, showing her what was clearly her own back.

She saw as much as felt as a series of robotic arms extended down, spraying her back with something cold. She had no idea what that was, but on some level, it scared her. But not as much as what happened next. For next, the arms extended a series of scalpels, slicing into her back. She could vaguely feel them cutting, but it did not hurt. That was the point she realized the spray had been some sort of powerful numbing agent. There was a little blood welling to the surface of the cuts, but far less than she expected.

The machines continued cutting until the cuts reached from the nape of her neck and all the way along her spine down to her tailbone. It wasn't a wide strip, but she estimated it to be maybe 3-4 cm wide. More arms reached down, attaching some sort of suction cups to the flesh, then started lifting back up. All this time, the scalpels continued cutting, eventually freeing the section from her entirely. Elis was in too deep a shock to even react as that piece of her was carried away. More arms came forth, cleaning the now-exposed part of her body. She didn't know how much time passed, but soon enough, she could see the clear white of her spine all exposed to the air. It both horrified and fascinated her.

It was obvious to her even then that the machines were far from done and it came as no surprise when they continued their work. Dozens of tiny arms came down, holding strange pieces of metal. One by one, the machines lowered them onto her exposed vertebrae, where they horrifyingly enough fit perfectly. Though they were attached to her, she felt nothing as they were. Every third piece appeared to be different from the rest, a longer piece sticking up, as well as being slightly thicker. After all thirty or so pieces had been attached, the machines started linking the pieces together. Once they were all joined, she could feel as they wrapped around her spine. It was a feeling so strange that she could not put any words to it.

The arms drew back the moment they were done, and she saw as the arms that had taken her skin and muscle away returned with it, only now there was eleven holes evenly spread through it. They lowered it back down, and each hole fit perfectly around the parts that stuck out from the metal pieces.

Two arms she had not seen before now came down, shooting some sort of beam all along the exposed openings where the scalpels had cut into her earlier. Where the beam had passed, she was surprised to see clean, unbroken skin. Not even a hint of scar tissue. The whole procedure couldn't have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When they were done, the only visible difference was the eleven round holes evenly along her spine, and the fact that her back as a tiny bit thicker where the metal lay beneath the surface.

At that point, All the arms released their grip on her. Elis could move around, but the energy field suspending up from the floor her prevented her from shifting about much. One by one, the arms withdrew back into their machines. She thought perhaps they were done, but then a single, altogether different arm came forth. It started at the top of her neck and went downwards, inserting some sort of semi-transparent tubes into the exposed holes on her back, then lifted her upright. The antique monitor followed her up, showing her back.

She did not feel any different with them attached, but moments later she saw as the tubes started swelling up with some red fluid. It did not take a genius to realize the fluid had to be blood. Ever so slowly, she started to regain full feeling in her back, but it did not hurt. Within two minutes, she could pinpoint which tubes injected and which ones sucked. The mixed feelings could only be described as unnerving.

For a long time, nothing more happened. She was free to shift about how she hovered in the energy field, but she found that she could not detach the tubes. However they were attached, they sat far too firmly to give in to her strength. She quickly gave up that project. Instead, she tried to observe the technicians beyond the window. They all appeared to be regular people, youthful men she would never even have given a second look before. They appeared to be intently focused upon their work, but did not rush about the way they had before.

It was impossible to say how long she hung there, but must have been hours before she even began to notice anything changing. Eventually, many of the lab-coated men left, only to be replaced by others just as generic as the ones who left. It was maybe seven or eight hours later that she first noticed the difference in the tubes. The blood flowing through them appeared tinged with silver. It wasn't easily visible, but it was clear that there was something different about it. Shifting about, she looked at the places she knew of where her veins and arteries were close to the surface of her skin. As she had dreaded the moment she saw it in the tubes, she could clearly see the same silvery tinge on the normally blue veins visible even through her skin.

“What are you doing to me?” She screamed. If they heard her, they did not react at all. Either the lab was soundproofed, or the technicians were all deaf.

Ever so slowly, Elis found herself growing drowsy and she soon realized that she'd been awake abnormally long. She thought she drifted of many times, but shook herself awake, not knowing what would happen if she fell asleep. However, soon she found herself unable to fight the drowsiness and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. At the same time the lights slowly dimmed down in the room.

~| Meanwhile, somewhere else |~

It was late at night. The skies were dark and the rain fell hard down from the skies, only broken by occasional flashes of lightning. Occasionally, a bolt would strike either one of the countless grounding rods spread throughout the City of Valmerr. The sound of the rain falling down was only broken by the booming of gongs sounding over the city alert system, summoning the people to the Holoprojectors.

Hours had passed since the last of the great factories had shut down for the night and all the people had returned home. Now, one by one or in small groups, they mustered before the gleaming machines, not one of them daring to ignore the summons. In the rich quarters up on the five hills, citizens gathered around their smaller, private holoprojectors. Some ten-fifteen minutes after the first gongs were heard, all the citizens of Valmerr stood, or sat, before a projector.

At the other end of the system, deep down in the government's vaults of carven stone, the newscasters were getting ready for the broadcast. Around them, there were technicians and tech-savants beyond count all readying the equipment for broadcast. At the center of the bustle, a small group stood, observing the citizen monitoring system, checking that not a single citizen was where he or she should not be. The bustle of the broadcast center was organized. Not one man or woman walked where he or she should not walk. They were all firmly part of the system.

Out in the city, at the very holoprojector Elis Ní Arailt had walked by alone earlier on, the people stood shoulder to shoulder. Above some few one could see the energy-based umbrellas designed and built by some of the few tech-savants not under government employ. On the rest who were not fortunate enough to have such technology, the cold rain hammered down. Aside from breathing, not one man, woman or child moved. It was impossible to say whether that was out of fear, respect or something in between.

As always, the newscasters appeared without warning. The projectors neither hummed nor made any other noises when firing up. One moment they were inactive, the next they weren't.

“Citizens of Valmerr. As you all well know, the city has these past nine cycles been plagued with people disappearing. Our benevolent and beloved queen, bless her, has charged us all with solving this problem. It is shameful for us all that more than fifty of our young women have disappeared and the one or the ones responsible have yet to be caught.

It is for this reason you have all been called here today. Today there are sad tidings. Last night, not far from this very projector, yet another of our young women disappeared. Her name, some of you might know her, was Elis Ní Arailt. She was on her way home after a productive day in the factory.

Our masterful SAR teams have been searching ever since she did not report for work, but they have, like we all have, failed to find any trace of her. The city's elected seneschal, has therefore determined that all women between 127 and 302 cycles shall have their tracking implants active at all times, rather than merely when being summoned to watch the news.

He knows well that some of you might see this as an invasion of privacy, but knows also that you as much as he hopes this will help solve the city's problem. We all thank you for your willing and unshakable approval of this.”

The holoprojectors all shut down at that point. The Citizens all turned about and returned to their homes. Upon the exposed wrists upon some women, one might occasionally see the faint yellow glow of their still-active tracking implants. Not one man, woman or child appeared to object about the new decree.

~| Back in the lab |~

Somewhere in the lab complex, wherever that might be, the doctor too watched the news, smiling. Though it was clear that he was responsible for the women going missing, he did not seem to be perturbed by the new decree that had gone into effect. If anything, he seemed encouraged. He smiled, then whispered quietly but firmly. “Challenge accepted.”

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the complex, Elis slowly returned to consciousness. She could immediately feel that something was different. Opening her eyes, she could see every part of the room in perfect detail. Too perfect detail. If she had wanted, she could've counted the screws holding the window in place, twelve meters away.

“Impossible...” She muttered, shifting about to look at herself. Her arms obeyed her, but she could feel something was different. She looked down at them. Then she screamed. The sight that met her eyes was inhuman, revolting. Every major vein and artery was clearly visible through her skin. The thinner blood vessels were faintly visible as well. And they were all a metallic gray color. When she bent her arms, she could hear the faint clicking of tiny, tiny gears.

“No... It can't be...” she whispered, afraid of what she deep down knew to be true.

With her right hand, she squeezed around her left elbow and could feel the presence of something artificial, something that had not been there before. It was almost as if her arms were now partially robotic. She cast glances over the rest of her body. Everywhere, she could see the virtually imperceptible signs of robotics. None but her would have seen it, for she alone was intimately familiar with her body.

“It isn't true! This is a nightmare!” She screeched, only to start sobbing softly. She could see how her tendons, once white, now held a silvery metallic color, identical to that of the machines surrounding her. Even worse, through her back, she could feel the precise amounts of blood, raw materials and nutrients passing in through her ports, as well as the waste products being ejected through other ports. She could measure it with molecular precision.

What she could also feel, was how the nanites were rapidly spreading elsewhere in her body. There was no doubt in her mind that by the time the day was through, she would be more machine than woman. She folded herself into a ball, sobbing softly.

“Why are they doing this to me?” She muttered between sobs, not really expecting an answer and not getting one either.

How long she hung suspended like that, barely moving was impossible to say, but for each hour that passed, she could literally feel her awareness of her own body expanding even as the nanites slowly replaced more and more of it. Soon enough however, her mind was upgraded to such a degree that she could count every minute and every second passing. She was terrified of this, for though she had never had a habit of being late for anything, she had never really cared about time overmuch. She didn't want to know the passage of time. Nor the tens of thousands of other minutiae the machines that now were a part of her let her know.

She didn't want to know how the tens of thousands now in her liver were improving its function a hundredfold. She didn't want to be some sort of robot. It was wrong! Why hadn't they asked her? She didn't know, and was afraid to ask. Not that she expected anyone to answer even if she did ask.

Seven hours, twenty-seven minutes and twelve point two-hundred and thirty-seven seconds later, she could feel the presence of the computer system nearby. While that of course also terrified her, some small part was curious. She reached out towards it. Not physically, of course, but mentally. It appeared to have heavy firewalls in place to prevent intrusions. But by this time, her mind was more machine than woman, 62.12% of its cells replaced by nanite constructs. That made her far more advanced than the system. It was child's play to find a path through the forbidding walls surrounding the system. She wanted to learn all there was to learn from it, and nothing would stop her. Nothing.

~|~

It took quite a while for any of the technicians in the control room to notice, but eventually one of them did. At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Something was accessing records all over the system, consuming considerable amounts of processing power and memory.

“We're being hacked?” he muttered, disbelieving. They had some of the finest security systems available, yet whomever this hacker was, he or she bypassed them as if they weren't even there! He leaped up from his workstation, running towards the master's office.

“Master! Someone's hacking our systems! Bypassing firewalls as if they're not even there!” he shouted, even as he knocked repeatedly and hard on the doctor's office.

It took less than a minute before the door opened. The doctor stepped out, looking somewhat disturbed.

“WHO? Who is hacking our system? Is it the seneschal's men? Have you disconnected the external hardlines?” he all but shouted at the minion, his face hard with anger.

“Its not external and the hardline hasn't been connected at all today, master!” the minion answered, cringing back and down under the doctor's fury.

For a few moments, the doctor did not say anything, thinking it over. “The subject. It has to be her... I will deal with her personally. Draw her in. Feed her information to distract her. Lead her on a chase around the system before she realizes that she can assume control over it. NOW!”

The minion ran off, terrified both of what failure could mean and of the the fact that the master never got directly involved. He would have answered, but knew better than to speak back.

The doctor followed behind him, then past him as he started to work at the workstation, directing the other minions to do the same as he was. Coming to the triple airlock, the doctor stepped in. It took a full minute to pass through the cycles, time he would have preferred not to use, but lab sterility was too important to ignore. His pace across the vastness of the open lab was relentless. The subject's eyes were closed, so he doubted she could see him approaching. He did not care if she could. She could do nothing to stop him even if she could.

The systems controlling her containment were isolated from everything else, even running on a separate power supply. He could see the difference in her body from a long distance. The nanites had spread far and wide, consuming much of her body. It was a fascinating sight to see a human body replaced to such a degree by nanites. In some ways, it was unfortunate that he had to do this, but the alternative was unthinkable.

“I am sorry. But like the others, you are a failure.” he whispered.

He pulled out a small device from one of his pockets. It wasn't much larger than a syringe, but infinitely more dangerous. He pushed his hands through the energy field containing the subject, then pressed the device in, right above her neck port, then pressed the activation button. At first, nothing happened, then her body first started shuddering, then shaking wildly. It wasn't easy to keep the device in place, but he managed to do so. After a minute he was done. He put the device away, then rotated the subject's body. Her eyes were blank. Empty. Vacant.

He thought about shutting down the nanites, but with them having reverted back to their base programming, there was no real need. Besides, keeping them intact would give more data to work with. Perhaps allow him to find a quicker solution to this issue. The woman below him was no longer a threat, her mind completely wiped from existence. All that remained now, was a biomechanical shell. She would now never reach the hoped-for potential, but that was of no concern. Subjects like her were easy to find.

Besides, he thought, she could still be of some use. Within two days, the shell of a body below him would be fully saturated by the nanites. At that point, all he would need to do is program it. Give it a basic operating system. A menial purpose, of course. Building a full mind was impossible. There were too many details to cover to even begin doing so.

Even as he walked back out of the lab, ideas for how to use the shell that once was Elis Ní Arailt flew through his mind. Though the core project had yet to be a success, he could not help but smile. Nothing would be wasted. He would simply have to start over on a new test subject. No more, no less. He even had some subjects in mind... But before he could do that, he would have to prepare another lab. The current one could not be reused. It did not matter. He had the technology to build a hundred labs if he wanted. All he needed to do so, was time.

~| 4th hill district, City of Valmerr |~

While a full cycle had passed since the last disappearance, the people could not breathe easily, for it was clear to them all that the culprit behind the disappearances had not been caught. They all knew the Seneschal always made announcements whenever major criminals were caught. Some were no doubt afraid that their rights and freedoms would be further restricted. Others held on to the hope that the latest decree had successfully scared the criminal from further crimes, but these were in the minority. Most citizens and members of the government alike were far too disillusioned to believe in such fantasies.

Few, if any, were surprised when the summons once more sounded, this time early in the morning, when most were on their way to work. In the dim light of dawn, thousands of men and women turned towards the nearest holoprojector, then started walking. While some of the people of the 4th hill chose to return to their homes, most chose to go to the public terminals. High up on the hill, that meant Hrodlaf's square, where the projector rested upon the shoulders of nine 201st decade statues, their faces all but impossible to recognize due to the wear and tear of time.

The moment they were all there, the newscaster fired up, despite the fact that many other terminals were still gathering crowds. That was one of the many advantages of having unique speakers for each quarter and terminal.

“Citizens of Valmerr. Thank you all for delaying your journey to work in order to listen. Your willingness to listen to the words of our trusted Seneschal does him great honor. Ever since the disappearance of Elis Ní Arailt, one cycle ago on her way home from work, the SAR services have been working without pause in trying to track her down. You all know she is but the last in the long line of women who have disappeared. Though you all have the tracker implants and have had them since right after the dark times, it has proven impossible to reactivate hers. It is not registering on any system in the city nor surrounding it.” With those words, the were murmurs passing around the crowd gathered before the terminal. Their city was being made a mockery of! For decades before these times, no one had ever gone missing long. The City SAR services had been known throughout the nation for their expertise.

“Silence!” The newscaster shouted, and the crowd immediately stopped murmuring. “Two hours ago, with great sadness, I learned that another two of our young women disappeared.” He paused for a moment to the gasps of the crowd, then continued. “All investigators are perplexed by their disappearance. Where the other fifty-three all disappeared outside, these two young women disappeared right from their very homes. The first one, Eleen níc Griogair, daughter of our trusted seneschal, disappeared during her morning exercise session, her treadmill still running when her mother came by to check on her. With the doors all watched and the windows barred, no one understands how she could have gotten out.”

He paused for a few moments to let the crowd absorb the news. He could clearly see the willingness to murder in the eyes of some and was glad he was not the culprit. “The other, Katya Ní Coitir, daughter of the SAR commander herself, was in the middle of a shower, her parents both already having been up for hours, working ceaselessly upon the task of finding the missing women.”

In the background, someone muttered “serves them right. Now its personal for them too.”

The newscaster did not even have to pause to identify the man and quickly determined that he had lost his eldest daughter early on. Because of that, he did not make a note in the system against the man, despite the rules saying he should. “The government, may they serve the people for all time, has determined that this means the culprits have access to military grade teleportation technology. As such, they have realized that the previous precautions are far from sufficient. As such, while the tracking beacons will not be deactivated, all other regulations set in by the crisis are lifted. However, there is one small new decree. All women between 176 and 264 cycles must from this point forward always be in the company of a man, either a coworker or a relative. There will be no exceptions, no excuses. They know full well how inconveniencing this can be, but it is all for the best. Thank you all for obeying.”

With that, the holographic projector shut down, not allowing anyone time to ask questions or complain or demand to be exempted from the rule. Though many felt offended by this, they dared not disobey. They all quickly sorted themselves into groups, then moved onwards to their jobs.

~| Fifty-six minutes earlier |~

The doctor stepped out of the teleporter, laughing. It had been a roaring success! Not only had he snatched the Seneschal's daughter from her exercise room, but he had taken the SAR commander's daughter right from under her parents' noses! They were working obsessively with identifying and tracking him down, and were utterly oblivious to him being right next to them. He had to struggle to stop laughing.

Already the minions were maneuvering the two new test subjects to the new lab. Soon they would both be injected with his special blend of anti-viral, anti-bacterial and anti-pathogenic agents. The doctor could not have any of his subjects unclean. Once he managed to stop laughing, he returned to his private quarters, changed into a fresh, and dry, set of clothes and grabbed his latest inventions. He could not wait to test them!

He walked slowly to the labs, stopping briefly to check on the system that was running simulations for uses for the shell of the previous test subject, then entered the new lab. Like the older labs, he had its walls a dark green color and the room brightly lit. There were no dark shadows anywhere. He was no mad scientist to work in one of those silly medieval castles. Not only was it exposed, but the uncleanliness of such facilities? Terrible.

He approached the Seneschal's daughter first. “Eleen...” he murmured, letting the taste of the name flow over his tongue. From his lab-coat, he pulled a pair of sterile scissors, then carefully cut away her clothes. Sure, he could've had the machines do it, but he felt he owed the Seneschal's daughter the honor of doing it personally. Besides, with her choice of dress for exercise, it was hardly much work. He dropped the dismantled clothes into the incinerator, knowing the machines would take care of them.

At one hundred and ninety-six cycles, her body was still not fully mature, but he could see the great potential to it. If he had not been above fraternizing with lab subjects, he would no doubt have found her quite attractive. Not that he would have ever considered mating with her without her permission. There are, quite simply, some things one shall never do. At the top of that list stood rape. He had no trouble with euthanasia when it came to failed experiments, but there are some things no one should ever do to anyone.

He reached into his coat, pulling out one of the two inventions he intended to test this day. In some ways, it resembled the back half of a collar, with short projections out where the back of the neck would be. Reaching up, he pulled down the arm with the pain pacifier spray, which automatically sprayed her neck with it. Then he held the invention up to admire it for a few seconds, before snapping it into place on her neck. The device immediately began adjusting itself, digging deep into her neck.

In the silence of the lab, it was easy to hear the sound of grinding and gnashing as the device found its way in to the woman's fifth and sixth cervical vertebrae, then attached itself firmly there. On the sides, the twin sets of metallic braces slid through the device and in underneath the skin of the woman's throat, hooking into her carotid arteries and her jugulars. There was but a brief, momentary lapse in the flow of blood to and from her brain as the tubes inside the braces filled with blood. He did not hesitate when reaching up to find the thick tube up in the ceiling and hooking it into the now-fully installed neck port.

The moment he had attached it, it started filling with blood from the system. In order to increase the efficiency of his upgrade protocols, the blood was already saturated with nanites and raw materials, which would in turn quickly spread out into her body. He needed to increase the efficiency greatly if he was to complete his final plan. After that, he gently repositioned the young woman back upright in the suspension field, then stepped back. In time, he knew, the nanites would construct new access ports in her body, which in turn would automatically be connected to the additional tubes found in the ceiling. He did not know when she would wake up, but hoped she would not react quite as badly as the last one.

He eyed the faint yellow glow from her left wrist where the still-active tracker was, but saw no reason to remove it. They were far beyond the range of the tracking system. Once satisfied that nothing untoward would happen to the subject, he withdrew further, then approached the second test subject, the SAR commander's daughter, Katya Ní Coitir.

Unlike her unknowing, raven-haired companion, Katya appeared to already be approaching consciousness again. The doctor looked her over. She was, as test subjects go, perfect. Looking at the holographic data readout on the side, he saw that she was two hundred and eleven cycles, eight days and five hours old. The differences in level of maturity were subtle but clear. She was a good deal more attractive because of them, but he would never break his rule of fraternizing with test subjects. It was wrong.

Her skin had the pale tone typical to the elite and her body was free from flaws like excess fat or scars. He had no trouble seeing just why the SAR commander was known for doting on her this way. From earlier subjects, he knew that the agents he used to subdue his test subjects always left them groggy and somewhat confused, their short-term memories tended to be fuzzy. He could probably have removed those side-effects if he wanted, but that would only have made it harder to convince them to trust him.

“Morning, ma'am.” he said to her calmly. “I know you're a bit confused right now. The fuzziness will pass soon.”

“W-where am I?” she murmured, clearly just as confused as the doctor knew she'd be.

He smiled at her fondly, the way only a doctor of many years can do at a patient waking up for the first time could. “You're in a safe place, child. Your mother and father fears for your safety and had you brought here to ensure that no one could take you from them.”

“They requested that I make sure nothing will harm you again. It will be all right.”

He did not lie when saying these words to her. He simply did not speak the truth the way others would see it. He knew more than enough about her parents to know that her safety was the highest priority in their minds at all times. That was one of the primary reasons he had chosen her for this particular experiment.

“W-who are you?” She asked, still confused.

“I'm your new doctor. Just as I don't need to know your name, you don't need to know mine. The treatment I am about to give you may hurt momentarily and it will make you feel a bit odd, but it will make you safe. Do you want it now, or do you want to wait?” Initially he had no plans to delay it, but it would be nice for the sake of the experiment to have a voluntary acceptance of the upgrades. At least as voluntary as it could be without giving away any detailed information.

The woman appeared to be oblivious to her nudity when she nodded. “Do it now. No use delaying.”

“Excellent. If you would pull aside your hair? The injection must go into your neck.” he asked her, maintaining his calm demeanor as he did. The girl pulled it aside, baring her neck and back. The doctor was thankful that he had found better ways to do this than he had had with the first fifty-three girls. Pulling the invention out from his coat, he smiled a little. The design was more or less the same as the one used on the Seneschal's daughter, but sleeker, less invasive. Like with the first, he sprayed her neck with a little of the deadening agent, as pain was unnecessary to give the test subjects.

He pressed it gently against the back of her neck, then activated it. The device made several incisions into her skin, then slid underneath the exposed flaps of skin and muscle, which then fused back together using single-use pellets of the mending beams. After reaching the preprogrammed location, half the device detached. The implant would need neither scalpels nor mending beam emitters later. He pulled the now-defunct components away, sticking them in a pocket for later disposal.

“I will now attach the IV tube and monitoring cable, to ensure that the injection works right. I do hope you don't mind.” Like before, she nodded. Remarkably trusting, he thought as he attached the tube, which would rapidly saturate her system with nanites. The moment the tube was attached and flooded with blood, the prongs inside the device hooked into her carotid arteries and her jugular veins. By hooking into these, her brain would rapidly be saturated with nanites, and the blood could similarly be filled with new nanites after passing through the brain on its way down through her jugular veins.

“There. All done. Now all you need to do is relax and wait.” he smiled fondly at her, even as he took a few steps back. Out of respect, he averted his eyes from her nudity.

“Would you like to have anything while you wait? I can't offer much due to this lab being sealed to all signals, but I'll offer what I can.” The decision to play friendly with her promoted all sorts of new ideas in his mind. Like many experiments, he had no idea what it'd end up being.

“Could I have some music? Symphonic, like that of the ancient people?” she asked sweetly. The doctor was quite frankly shocked. He had never expected a request like that. He'd been prepared for food, clothes, drink, maybe a book? But music? Never.

“I can arrange that. Might take a few minutes, but I'll get it.” He walked off, trying to clear his head and puzzle out how to arrange that, thankful that the two halves of the lab were partitioned off from each other and not readily visible. After maybe ten minutes, he'd gotten the minions to assemble a simple speaker system of sufficient quality, then had it sterilized and sent into the lab.

He went through the airlocks and set it up. With his familiar obsession with precision, he positioned the various speakers in perfect alignment around her, then activated the system. He had no idea what she might like, so he'd acquired a small selection and put it into a remotely accessible holographic interface. She'd be able switch between the various composers at will.

He placed the interface projector on the floor before her, then adjusted the settings so the display would be at the right height. Looking up, he could see that her veins were already starting to change. The new nanite feed on this model was worlds more efficient than the previous ones. Katya quickly scrolled through the interface, then selected something, which started playing immediately. The doctor might not have much interest in music himself, but he could not provide anything below top quality to his patients, be it medical care, equipment, confidentiality or entertainment.

He did not recognize the music, but could not feel anything but relaxed by it. The woman simply hung there, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady, clearly listening to the music. Somewhat entranced by her calmness, he almost thought he could see the nanites spreading through her body. She rotated slowly in the suspension field, the joints high up on the tubes designed to ensure that twisting could not pose any problems for it. On the fifth rotation, some fifteen-twenty minutes later, he saw that the first of the many new feeder ports had been fully assembled. Unlike before, it did not stick out. It was simply a 4 mm wide hole in her skin. Right on cue, a robotic arm lowered down from the ceiling, sticking a second tube into the hole, then folding back into the roof.

This was the quickest conversion yet. If it was successful, he had no doubts it would soon be time to launch the final plan. He smiled to himself knowingly. He had spread more than enough confusion in the ranks of the government to ensure that they would never see it coming.

He pondered watching longer, but decided that it was time to lay down the final pieces for the end plan. It was undeniably a success to take the daughters of the SAR commander and the Seneschal, but they were small fish. With that, he turned about, leaving the lab, just missing the sight of the third tube being attached to Katya's back.

~|~

When the chain of symphonies she'd programmed the system to play ended some two hundred and seventy-two minutes later, Katya could feel the difference. Whatever the good doctor had done, it had removed all trace of exhaustion from her body and mind. She couldn't recall when she had been this refreshed last, if she ever had. She could feel every part of her body, sense their every potential. The strength of her muscles. The effectiveness of her liver. The durability of her bones and tendons. The throughput of her spinal ports.

A stray thought surfaced from somewhere deep down, asking about what she meant by spinal ports, asking where those came from, but she quickly squashed that trail. A quick simulation told her that there was a 61.73% chance of her reacting badly if she followed that path of thinking. That probability was uncomfortably high so she determined not to pursue it.

She looked down at her arms. All over, she could see the network of gray outlining her blood vessels, from the dense gray of her primary veins and arteries, to the haze of her outermost capillaries. But it did not freak her out. She could sense it all, and it all made sense. Her body, her mind, it all fit together, and deep inside her brain, she could see how.

Even as the changes slowly spread further and further, she did a quick analysis of how her body had changed. The nanites responded instantly. On average, a 12.03% increase in muscle firmness. 1.26% increase in breast size. 18.92% increase in body mass. All within expected parameters. Sending her senses deeper, she could feel the new constructs around her spine. Like all the other changes, they were acceptable to her. When complete they would give an 82.03% reduction in chance for trauma caused by blunt force. Similarly, the nanites now permeating her skin increased its durability by 78.41% and its rate of repair if damaged by 871.66%.

She had no doubt that all these statistics would have driven most others insane, but she personally only found them fascinating. There was a computer system at the other end of the connection with her back, but she did not find it intriguing. Not the way her body now was. Some small part of her wondered why her mother had asked the doctor to put her through this, but like so many other things, Katya found herself not caring. It was the perfect gift. She could only guess at what she would be able to do once her body was fully saturated and enhanced. She smiled to herself.

~| Six hours and five minutes later|~

At the other side of the lab, the transition was in its final stages for Eleen níc Griogair, but unlike Katya, she was not even aware she'd been chosen for the upgrades, having been kept artificially unconscious the entire time. The doctor stood watching the final few bits of the process with curiosity. On a hologram beside the body, he could see the number steadily climb towards 100%. While it did not make the test exactly the same, he had programmed the code for Katya to receive some 5% more nanites, just to be sure they would not finish at the exact same time. He could do many things, but be in two places at the same time was not one of them. Nor was focusing on two subjects at once.

The moment the indicator hit 100%, he saw the nanites begin to perform their final task. Her body was almost gray with the saturation. No one would think her to be human that way. But that was the ingenuity of it all. He activated that particular program before he released her mind from its containment. First, the tubes all slipped out, one by one. Then the data cable in her neck slipped out, even as the data port folded in on itself, sliding in under the skin. It wouldn't be invisible to a scan, but neither would it be blatantly visible for all to see. Then her very skin seemed to shimmer as the nanites took on the color of human skin. Within moments, her skin looked exactly like it had before her enhancement. Only then did he send the signal to release her mind.

~|~

One moment, Eleen was asleep, or rather, unconscious. The next, she was wide awake, as if she'd been that way for a long time. She wasn't the least bit drowsy. Countless numbers flitted through her mind. She did not comprehend them. Last thing she recalled was running on the treadmill. Now she hung in some sort of room, a suspension field keeping her up from the floor and incapable of going anywhere. And she was stark naked. She wondered what was going on. Again the numbers popped forward. Again they failed to make sense.

She couldn't see the connections between it all. Where was her father, the seneschal? Why was she here? Where was here? For a third time, numbers appeared in her head, this time in twin sets. She stared at them for a few moments, not understanding. What did those numbers have to do with anything? And for that matter, where did they come from?

It was at that point the word 'coordinates' appeared above the numbers. She tried to understand where that could be, but found herself unable. Something blocked her. Some sort of seal on the room. She did not like that. Her chain of thoughts blocked, she focused elsewhere. There had to be something worth focusing upon. She tried to make sense of how she had gotten there, but her memory was strangely blank. One moment she'd been exercising, the next she woke up here.

Again she let questions flow through her mind. What had happened? Where was she? Why was she here? How did she get here? Who was the man before her? And, more importantly, why was she naked? Her panic was rapidly building up. As a sort of self-defense, she drew back into herself. It was the only viable option.

~|~

The doctor could quickly see that something was wrong with the second subject. Her mind wasn't rejecting the upgrades, but appeared to be rejecting reality. Clearly the method used on her was... faulty. He had been afraid that might be the case after the apparent success with the other subject.

Even as he watched, he could see her eyes go blank, her body stop moving for anything except breathing.

“Oh well...” He muttered, pulling out the same device he'd used on subject #53. He walked up to her, pressing it into the side of her neck, triggering it instantly. Within seconds, her mind was completely wiped. No trace of the person once known as Eleen níc Griogair remained beyond a physical husk. With that taken care of, he wandered over to observe his other test subject complete her upgrades.

~|~

“You know... You shouldn't have lied to me.” Katya said to the doctor the moment he appeared.

“I know my mother would never intentionally ask anyone to do something like this to me.” She could see panic in his eyes and laughed.

“She's a short-sighted fool, doctor.” He appeared to be fingering something in his left pocket, but stood there uncertain. She laughed a little more.

“If she had had my level of comprehension, she would have caught you long ago. Now it is too late. I no longer see any reason for why you should be punished. You have given me a great gift, doctor... The gift of eternal life and the ultimate understanding.” When she spoke, her face barely showed any glimmer of emotion.

“You have a greater plan in progress, yes? My analysis indicates that has to be the case, as I am not in any position to affect whatever changes you wish for.” Katya could see the panic slip from his eyes, replaced by wonder. He let go of whatever he had in his pocket. She guessed it was a weapon of some kind. Something that could have destroyed her.

“Yes. I seek to change the nation. I seek, quite simply, to replace the so-called benevolent queen with a stronger, younger monarch. One infinitely more powerful. One who is fair.” he did not hesitate more than a few moments, nor did he lie. It was readily apparent to him that she somehow could read lies for what they were.

She smiled. “I surmised as much. Your honesty is refreshing. I will aid you.”

“How?” he asked, curious.

“The previous subjects. Since they were never found and you continued taking people, it is fair to assume they did not work out. There is a 96.13% probability that you used the device in your left pocket on them. I can sense a small power source, but I cannot understand what it does. What does it do?”

He looked back at her, shocked at how quickly she had seen through it all. “It wipes the biological mind. I used it on failed subjects to render them inert.”

“Good. The wiped subjects – you still have them, right?”

“Y-yes?” he answered once more, a little confused.

“Good. I will need them. Oh, and I will need some clothes. Ones like your own will serve. Have your minions bring the blank slates and sufficient clothes here. I will make them useful for our plan.”

“Our plan?” he replied, a bit shocked. He had not expected this. Some small part of him wanted to wipe her mind just to be on the safe side, but another, more sensible part realized that wouldn't work. He'd come up short with every attempt to plan the final details of the great plan. She had seen right. He did need her. And that, more than anything, frustrated him. He was supposed to be better! He was supposed to be able to do anything on his own!

But he knew there was no way around it. He went to the wall, then pressed the buttons necessary to instruct the minions in their new tasks as well as lowering the signal barrier around the room. Within minutes, all of it arrived.

“Yes. Our plan. I can see in your eyes that you need me.” She then made a simple gesture and he heard a sound that was neither metallic nor biological, but something in between as she dropped to the floor. She tested her limbs a few moments, then strode over to the clothes. They weren't much, but she found a simple shirt, pants and lab coat that fit reasonably well. There were no undergarments designed for a woman there, but she did not really need that. Her body could more than sufficiently support itself. The shirt was a 11.62% smaller than optimal, the the pants 3.05% too large, but still within acceptable parameters. Her breasts, having increased in size by 7.55% compared to their original size, strained a little against the shirt, which of course, was designed for a man. The lab coat, however, fit perfectly. Though she did not need it, she also put on a pair of shoes. With a side-thought, her hair tied itself up, a few of the longer strands wrapping around the rest to keep it in place. Not one hair was out of place.

“There. Now we can begin working.” She did not give any reaction to his shocked look. Apparently he had not seen someone's hair tie itself up before. 'humans...' she thought, then continued approaching the first of the shell-bodies.

There were only two of them. “What happened to the rest?” she asked him.

“Ruined. The nanites did not bond properly. They all became abominations. Some had to be destroyed, others were inhuman. I kept clear records in the system.”

Now that the Faraday cage was disabled, she could access the system remotely. The firewalls, if they could be called such, were no obstacles. She needed but a few seconds to find the right files, then only a few seconds more to absorb it all. “Got it. I can see where you went wrong. Though you stumbled a bit in your attempts, you had a decent rate of progression. #12, #27 & #44 showed you some keen insights into the right ways to do this. You really should have been more trusting, you know. If you'd befriended more subjects, you would have had far fewer failures. But I guess its only good for me you didn't.”

He halted mid-step. “You studied all my notes on all my subjects in ten seconds?!?” He was slowly coming to terms with just how powerful her mind had become.

“Yes.” she answered, succinctly. Then she placed her hands on the sides of the inert Elis' head. She connected her nanites to those of the shell. At first they were slow to respond, confused, but slowly they started to respond. There were fractures of the biological mind left, but they were scattered. It was easy enough to wipe them away completely. The original personality would not have been trustworthy. Instead, she copied herself into the shell. With such a large area of contact, that took but a few minutes. With each minute, she could feel her mind expand. So long as she would remain in proximity of her new selves, her minds would work in unison, the whole be greater than the sum of its parts. She wondered if the doctor had any idea of that.

~|~

The doctor's plan, which quickly found itself absorbed and virtually consumed by Katya ní Coitir, moved without pause from that point forward. Within a cycle, despite the increasingly challenging new security measures, they had seized more than four score new subjects. While half of those proved incompatible with the nanites' minds, these were erased and replaced by copies of Katya or one of her cybernetic sisters.

It is hard to say for sure exactly when he began to realize just how interconnected and powerful his creations were, but by the time he understood it, it was far too late. He was in far too deeply. After all, he still desired to change the world. Some sacrifices were necessary for that. He just did not quite know how many.

~|~

Even long before she figured out what was going on, the crown princess knew something had changed within the palace. Like everyone else, she had paid close attention to the events in Valmerr these past many cycles. She didn’t care overmuch about the women disappearing, but it made her chuckle a little just how frustrating her mother found it. She certainly didn’t worry about it.

Though members of the palace staff were frequently replaced, typically for incompetence or minor mistakes, which was fully deserved she thought, one day the frequency of blunders rapidly decreased. With lowly citizens, mistakes were expected and punished accordingly, but with the latest batch, the mistakes didn't come. In fact, they rapidly grew inhumanly efficient. Always on hand, almost as if they had begun to communicate. Servants should not take initiative. It was... Wrong.

Late one night, she decided that enough was enough. It was intolerable. A confrontation had to happen. She would do it the next day. No later. Sleep would come first, of course.

~|~

They knew almost instantly when the princess first took notice of them. It was Inevitable, so rather than hide it, they made it blatantly obvious to her and made their preparations at a sufficiently increased pace. From the first moment one of them had found her way into the service of her royal highness, the brain scan had been running. Thus they had easily calculated when she would confront them. It was no struggle at all to finish prior to that.

It was late at night when they started the processing. They had for the past two weeks been altering her bed, installing the necessary technology into its framework. Some might have thought that hard to conceal, but with nanites, it was rather simple.

They initiated the machines, then woke the princess up. "it is time, your highness."

She had stared strangely at them, clearly muddled by sleep, nodding confused while trying to shake off sleep. They of course did not allow her to do that before starting. The freshly installed gravity nullification field raised her up even as machines pulled the bedding aside. Where a bed had been before, an improvised lab station now stood, the princess suspended within. She was still not fully awake when the integration and upgrading began.

Each of the twelve present linked up with her seconds after the obligatory neck port was installed. This not only increased her rate of integration, but also allowed them to share knowledge directly. The princess was defenseless against it. Within hours, er entire body had been enhanced. With the shared knowledge, she had no way to resist their infallible logic. Mercilessly she had no choice about whether to become one of them.

The question that outsiders might ask, had they not been oblivious to it all, is whether she would command or be commanded. Her seizure of the throne was inevitable. The second question to ask is what sort of queen she would be.

Would she be naughty or nice? Would the kingdom rise to new heights? Or would it be ground to dust under her nanite-infused heel? And finally, who was this doctor and what was his role in the end?

RPGC #1-14 Trophy Case

RPGC#1 - Inspired by a song

The full list of runner-ups, staff picks, special category winners and honourable mentions can be found here.

Winning entry: Never Forget, by @Keyguyperson

Disclaimer

This story, while based heavily off of true events, is not meant to represent the true thoughts and actions of the real-life parallels to the characters. In particular, I must stress that while one character clearly fills the role of Adolf Hitler, their inner thoughts and reasons behind doing what they did are entirely different. Their character is in no way meant to represent the real Adolf Hitler and should not be seen as an attempt to make him appear any less evil than he actually was. They are most certainly not meant to be the same person, and you should not look at them as the same people.

---

Former Terran Colony Newy Wizna, Republic of Zarmina

The twin suns of Newy Wizna glared down on the ground, as the planet and the two stars were situated just right in their orbital paths to allow for the stars to seem as though they were right next to each other. In reality, they were multiple astronomical units apart, the smaller red dwarf orbiting the mid-sequence star in the center. It was an arrangement that happened rarely, thanks to the red dwarf's erratic orbit. Normally, the elevated heat would be perfectly comfortable for a human. However, add camouflage, armor, and heavy weaponry, and it suddenly becomes far, far worse. Not that anyone realized it. Bullets in the air have a way of making people forget about everything else.

A system of enemy bunkers was situated right on the outskirts of the colony's border, firing down on the Terran forces from their hilltop position. They had held the border for nearly four days now, the four hundred Zarminian troops stopping the full force of the 12th's blitzkrieg into their territory. It had been twenty-one years since the end of the First Great War, a war which many of the soldiers still remembered. The Newy Wizna colony had been taken from the Terran Empire after their defeat, along with countless other planets and systems.

Now, however, the Terrans were ready for the war. The chaotic days of the Terran Republic formed after the First Great War were over, giving way to the Terran Reich. For years they had waited, building up a military behind closed doors, revealing it just a week ago with their declaration of war against the Republic of Zarmina. So far, the war as a whole was going swimmingly, Zarminian colonies and stations fell one by one to the Terran forces. Of course, war never looks easy to the men on the frontlines, a lesson Specialist Rudolf Veit was learning the hard way.

"How the hell is our entire division losing to a few hundred Zarminians?" Yelled Rudolf as he rolled into cover behind a fallen hovertank. "We must outnumber them forty to one!"

An old man, likely a veteran of the First Great War, pulled a plasma cutter out of his backpack. As he cut into the tank's bent hatch, he gave Rudolf a look that seemed to say "You don't know anything, do you?"

"Kid, if there's one thing you learn in war, it's that expectations are nothing more than something to help you fall asleep before a battle. The moment bullets start flying, your expectations mean nothing." He said over the deafening zaps of railguns firing their slugs, before throwing a magazine of ammo to Rudolf. "Your rails are too black for you to have any ammo left."

"Thanks!" Said Rudolf in a voice that lost its ability to carry emotion due to the sounds of battle he had to shout over. The other soldier had guessed right, he ran out of ammo so long ago that his railgun's barrel had turned to a cool black. Just as he had learned in training, he reloaded the rifle, looking towards the other soldier and bringing his fist to his chest using only his elbow-the Terran sign for a sitrep request.

"One of their anti-tank rifles hit the negative energy unit of this tank!" He yelled, turning his plasma cutter to a higher setting and plunging it back into the thickly armored hatch. "I could use some help with this hatch!"

"On it!" Responded Rudolf, taking out his plasma knife and using it as a makeshift cutter. As they kept going, the could hear banging from the inside, the tank crew desperately trying to get out. Whatever was happening in there, it wasn't good.

With a loud clang, the hatch fell off onto the ground, revealing the inside of the tank. The crew of four practically baking in the heat of an electrical fire. They immediately scrambled out, scraping against the red-hot ring which the two had cut around the hatch. They had burns all over them, but luckily the fire hadn't been going for long enough to kill them outright.

"MEDIC!" Yelled Rudolf, looking behind him to see a hand signal from a trench behind him.

Medic, need cover fire

He returned an affirmative by nodding, then put his head around the tank and opened fire on the bunkers. A hail of fire rained down on him, stopped by the tank. With the fire drawn, the medic was able to get the tank, and immediately knelt down besides the communications officer of the tank. He worked faster than Rudolf ever believed possible, moving on to the next man in just a few minutes.

Rudolf turned right back behind the tank, happy to be alive. Another tank drove by them, luckily noticing them. Their own communications officer popped the tip of their trumpet out of the hatch, sending a message that didn't have to deal with enemy jamming systems to the main force behind them.

Wounded, pinned down. Send support.

Rudolf slid down the side of the tank into a sitting position, sighing in relief. The sound of an APC's engine got louder and louder until it finally passed over the hill after what had felt like an eternity. Safe in the knowledge that he'd survived, he relaxed, his gaze falling to the ground.

The relief immediately faded into horror as he found a pool of blood forming on his uniform, staining the solid green with red. He never even noticed that he had been hit, and only after he saw the wound did he feel pain. He had gone through live-fire courses in training, sure, but getting hit with an enemy slug was completely different. It was a moment in which he realized he wasn't some kind of invincible hero from a movie or book, he was just another soldier, and could be killed like any other.

"Really gets to you, doesn't it?" Said the other soldier, inspecting the wound. "The slug just grazed your leg, it'll hurt like hell and look even worse, but you'll be fine in a couple of days. You got lucky, it didn't hit your bone, a worse case scenario with that kind of injury and you'll lose a limb."

Rudolf just sat there, silently staring at his leg. He was so shocked that he couldn't respond. The other soldier calmly bandaged the wound, knowing that even a field clinic could take care of it thanks to Terran technology. When the APC arrived, he supported Rudolf, carrying him into the APC and laying him down on a stretcher.

"You'll be fine, kid." He said with a knowing smile. "The medics will patch you up and have you back out on the field in no time. Just remember Corporal, Markus Finch will always have your back."

Hoffnung Ghetto, Gerechtigkeit

Hundreds of people stood in line, the light of a red dwarf illuminating the city, deeply entrenched in the small ring of jungle that ran right across the axis of the planet. It was once the proud capital of an empire, but now it flew the Terran flag, called itself by a Terran name, and spoke the Terran language. Apparently, that wasn't enough for them. Their nation had been stolen, and now their people were being shipped off in cargo ships to God-knows-where.

"You! Name!"

Lev Haskel turned around to find a Terran soldier yelling at his sister, Sarah Haskel. Her wings folded back behind her, hiding their beauty from the Terran. It was a common response to danger for Murtadan, but he didn't expect that the Terran would know that.

"S-Sarah Haskel" She said, trembling with fear. Luckily, the Terran seemed less antagonizing and more bored, as if he was doing mundane office work.

"Ecktranai-Lizwitz, get on the ship straight ahead. And don't forget the 'Sir' next time, some people are happy to be doing this."

Lev was surprised at the Terran, ever since they divided the city, he'd believed that Terrans were heartless and selfish. This soldier wasn't either, he was just following orders. What nobody there knew was that he was unwittingly allowing a horror to come to pass.

"Name?" He said again, this time it was directed at Lev. Pushing back his fear, Lev responded as best he could.

"Lev Haskel, Sir!"

"Nova Terra, second ship to the left."

"But my sister..." Said Lev, before being cut off by the Terran.

"Orders are orders, and don't talk back to anyone. Same reason I told your sister to address me as Sir."

Lev opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a weak "Yes Sir". He boarded the ship he was told to, and found that it was not at all what he had expected. Everyone knew it would be cramped, but there already wasn't enough room for everyone to sleep. By the time everyone was onboard, there might not even be enough room to move.

There were no cots, forcing everyone to sleep on the freezing metal floor or on each other. There wasn't any food in sight, everyone hoped it would be dispensed at regular intervals, but they would soon find out that their hopes were in vain. The stench was terrible, but without any way to clean themselves, it looked like everyone would just be getting used to it. An airlock stood to the side of the cargo bay, but it didn't feel like an escape route so much as an invitation for suicide. Still, they had all been assured that everything would be okay. They were just going to 'work camps' after all, it would be hard, but they'd survive. At least, that's what they had been told.

Everything is going to be fine. He told himself Everything is going to be fine

Terran High Command, Olympus Mons City, Mars

The room had no windows, and it was lit only by the holographic display on the table. four people sat around it, all in uniform. The four military force heads and Kevra Könntesein, the Führer of the Terran Reich. She had seized power simply by finding a lighting rod for the anger of the Terrans, the only problem was that this lightning for was an entire people. She didn't seem to care, though. Whether she just hated them or wanted to direct the Terran anger somewhere was completely unknown to all but her, and it didn't change the fact that she had ordered the deaths of countless Murtaden.

"I'm disappointed, General." She said, staring at the hogan without any emotion. "It took you four days to breach a tiny defensive line, that's not what I expected from the Grand Army... Perhaps it requires a change in leadership?"

"Our enemy knew how to use their land." Said Balzed Eumeh, a Zhànshì. His people were genetic constructs made by the Terrans to be the perfect soldiers, and while they weren't targeted by the Führer's genocide, they certainly weren't considered true Terrans. Everyone in the room would be well within their right to order him to do anything they wanted, and he'd have to obey thanks to obedience towards Terrans being hard wired into his brain.

"Are you implying they fought better?" Asked the Führer. Raising an eyebrow and reaching for her coilgun pistol. "You will answer truthfully."

Literally being unable to resist, General Eumeh responded with his head hung low. He expected nothing less than execution, a common punishment for Zhànshì who refused to follow orders.

"Yes, they laughed in our faces when we captured them, which we only accomplished after they had run dry on ammunition."

"I'm disappointed, Eumeh. Our forces are supposed to be the best the galaxy has ever seen. Such failures are unbecoming of a Terran division, see to it that such failures do not occur often... or else you will be useless to us."

General Eumeh shivered in fear, he knew what happened to people whom Kevra considered useless. He saluted her, hoping to appear more professional.

"Understood! It will not happen again!"

"Don't be a fool." Said Kevra, beginning to refocus the holographic map on the table. "Of course it will happen again, it's your job to make sure it happens as little as possible. Enough of this. Admiral!"

"Yes, Führer?" Said Hans Norbert, the High Admiral of the Terran Star Forces.

"How is the invasion of the Third Sagittarian Republic proceeding?" She asked, finishing focusing the map on 62 Sagittarii, the capital of the Republic. "I trust your fleets are performing excellently."

"They have surrendered, Führer. The moment our fleet entered the skies of their homeworld, their ships struck their colors and we received an unconditional surrender. A cowardly move, not that I'm complaining."

"A hundred stars in a single month?" Said Kevra, impressed at the accomplishment. "We now control the majority of the inhabited systems in the Orion Spur. The Republic of Zarmina will have fallen soon as well. Once we have taken their capital, we will prepare for an offensive against the Perseus Union."

Everyone else in the room fell silent at the statement, even their breathing ceasing. Hans spoke up, hardly believing what Kevra had just said.

"But Führer! They control the entire Perseus Arm! Besides, we're allied with them! How could you-"

"Admiral!" Yelled Kevra, silencing him before she continued. "The Perseus Union's ideology and ours are opposites, there can be no coexistence. They may control an entire galactic Arm, but that galactic arm is mostly outside of the galactic habitable zone. All the systems beyond the Laeraka Nebula are full of either gas giants or hellish planets that can barely support their own populace. We can take them easily."

The Admiral still didn't agree with the plan, but he knew better than to question the Führer twice.

"Understood, Führer. My fleet will begin moving to the border."

"If there's not anything else to cover, then this conference is over. Dismissed." Said Kevra, turning the lights back on by snapping her fingers. The only other military leader in the room was the other High Admiral, commander of the Terran Navy. The Navy was considered an afterthought, and it was only ever talked about if a Terran world was under attack. While transporting naval vessels to other planets wasn't worth the cost, keeping them operational certainly was. Their artillery and anti-air capabilities had proved indispensable during the First Great War.

"Heil Könntesein! Heil Terra!" Came the unanimous response.

Newy Wizna, Conquered Territory

The humming of hovertank drives filled the ears of the entire town as the Terran forces drove through the central street. Nobody tried to resist, they knew that they had been beat. Soldiers marched up the street with the armored convoy, collecting Murtadan along the way. Those not rounding up prisoners rode either in APCs or on top of the tanks themselves, those on the tanks making it clear that they wouldn't hesitate to open fire.

"Hey." Said one of the soldiers riding on a tank, Rudolf Veit. "Did you hear about the Perseus Union?"

"No, what about them?" Said another soldier, his uniform showing that he was nothing more than a Private.

"I managed to hear some superior officers talking about it, we just got a message from High Command telling us that the Perseus Union was refusing to hand over the Murts in their own lands. I'll bet we'll get the order to move out today."

"Shame, that." Said the other soldier, staring at Rudolf's leg. He couldn't help but realize the contrast between the peachy color of his skin and the soulless grey of the prosthetic's metal. "I met a few Perseans on Earth, during the games. They seemed nice."

"Well, I guess you can't judge a species by a few people, now can you?" Said Rudolf, in blissful ignorance of the irony of his statement. As far as he was concerned, the Murtadan were just being sent to camps to protect them and the galaxy from their greedy and scheming elders. Little did he know that there were no such elders.

"Say, do you ever think of what you'll do when the war's all over?" Asked the soldier, deciding to avoid bringing up Rudolf's leg. "I mean, do you have a family back home?"

"Yeah, wife and two boys. She wanted to join up, but when the draft went out for all the men that idea was shut down pretty quickly. I'm planning on moving to Kepler 22b when it's all over, my wife and I really like the ocean, after all. No better place to go than a water world."

"Sounds nice, I'm just hoping to get through this." He responded, looking down at Rudolf's leg again. "A limb can be replaced, but... I'm just afraid, you know? I was never good with handling pain, if I were to take a shot in the middle of a firefight..."

"I lost my leg providing cover fire for a medic." Said Rudolf, smiling in an understanding way. "I was standing entirely on one leg, and there was a big chunk taken out of the other one, but I didn't feel a thing when it happened. I couldn't even think about myself, all I could think of was that medic. I think that's why it didn't hurt, I didn't care. My father always said that that's what makes humanity so good at fighting, we have such a drive to help others that we'll defy even death to do so."

The other soldier laughed, the sound drowned out by the tank's engine flaring up as it rounded a corner.

"I wish I could be as idealistic as you!" He said, the laugh fading away. "That'd be nice, just ignoring pain because you know you're helping someone."

"I'm telling you, you should try it." Responded Rudolf, still in a cheerful mood. "Couldn't hurt to try, not more than it would if you didn't, at least."

As the convoy made its way through the streets, the voice of General Gerald Wini, commander of the 12th, came through the personal radios of every soldier. His voice wasn't what you would expect from a Terran General, he spoke with what was more or less a softer version of the usual heavy and intimidating Terran accent. He was the youngest general in the Terran army, at a mere twenty-seven years old. Such an age was formerly the realm of fiction, but when a man holds a city with a hundred men, people notice. In fact, rumor had it that Führer Könntesein herself had promoted him.

"Attention soldiers of the 12th Terran Army!" He said, the convoy continuing forward as everyone listened. "The Führer has declared war on the Perseus Union! Effective immediately, we are to begin an assault on enemy positions coreward of the Laeraka Nebula! This assault will utilize the same blitzkrieg tactics we have been utilizing both here in the Republic of Zarmina and the Third Sagittarian Republic. The enemy homeworld of Rodina is our goal, we head for the Zarminian capital today. From there, we will leave on the 19th Terran Transport fleet next month, after the 214th have cleared the way for us. That is all, General Wini out!"

"Thought so." Said Rudolf, putting his hands behind his head and laying on his backpack. "At least we've got a month to rest here, that'll be nice."

"If the Zarminians don't revolt, that is." Said the other soldier, looking at the Zarminians lining the streets. There wasn't any biological difference between the Terrans and the Zarminians, but centuries of separation caused them to grow apart. Even then, humanity wasn't united.

"Let's just hope they don't. I'd rather not have to fight civilians."

"You're not the only one, just the thought makes me sick."

Nova Terra, Terran Reich Core World

"Men to the right, women to the left! Children under twelve with their mothers!"

A Terran in military uniform barked the orders into a megaphone, and everyone immediately obeyed, organizing just as he had said. Two lines formed, made up of disheveled and malnourished Murtadan, happy to be alive. The sight of the camp, however, took all their hope away. There weren't barracks like so many had said: there were tents, with the mud as their floor. In fact, nothing there was like what they had been told. All hope turned to dust as they realized that nothing they had heard was true, that they weren't there to work, that they weren't there to keep them from becoming a threat to the Reich. No, they were there for one purpose.

To die.

A giant building was right next to the two lines of Murtadan who had just stepped off of the cargo ships that brought them there. There were countless bodies, those who died during transit. There hadn't been any food, and at this point, they were just glad that they had been given the luxury of breathing. Nobody knew what the building was for until the bodies were handed over, and immediately brought inside. A crematorium. The Terrans had done their research, Murtadan traditions called for burial. Right then, everyone knew that they weren't people anymore. Some ran, but the Terrans were quick on the draw. Anyone that tried was killed instantly, then carried off to the crematorium as if they had never lived.

"Name?" Said a Terran to Lev Haskel, his voice completely emotionless. Lev hadn't even realized he was at the front of the line, too horrified at how little the Terrans seemed to care about their fate.

"L-Lev Haskel, Sir!"

"Age?"

"172, Sir!"

"Terran years, boy."

"18, Sir!"

"Occupation?"

"Student, Sir!"

The Terran frowned, marking an X on his tablet's holographic screen.

"Any skills?"

"Electronics repair, Sir!"

A check appeared on the screen, the Terran's frown changing to an emotionless slate.

"Diseases?"

"None, Sir."

Another check.

"Disabilitites?"

"None, Sir."

Again, a check.

"Sexual orientation?"

"Heterosexual, Sir."

A fourth check, Lev didn't know what they meant, but things seemed to be good.

"Are you a Communist?"

"S-Sir?" Said Lev, not knowing quite what he was being asked, He knew the term had something to do with the Perseus Union, but he had never heard what it really meant. He was just an IT guy at a small little company back home, he never really cared.

"I said, are you a Communist?"

"I don't suppose so, Sir."

A check came up on the screen and Lev breathed a sigh of relief, glad that "No" was the right answer.

"Restate your name."

"Lev Haskel, Sir."

"No."

"No?"

"A-7713. That's your name. Go straight."

Lev followed his orders, barely believing what was happening. Judging people, sentient beings, solely based on their skills? Who they loved? What they called themselves? This was exactly the kind of thing Murtadan were taught not to do. During the ancient war, it was said that the Terrans claimed to be superior because of their history, because they had been through horrors just like this. They tried to forget it, not wanting to remember the shame. It seems that they never learned one of the most important truths in the universe: A mistake that you forget is a mistake you will make again.

As he entered the building, he saw a sight nobody could have expected. The floor was covered with hair and feathers. They were taking away the two things that were used most often to identify Murtadan. It really was a case of removing any semblance of individuality, making everyone look the same, think the same, and in the end, die the same. Screams from a nearby building made it clear what those Xs on the screen meant. Even though he was walking into hell, Lev felt lucky. Lucky that he wasn't walking into literal hell.

Terrans in the room undressed them, beating anyone who resisted. Forcing them down onto benches, they started to cut their hair and pluck their feathers. As his feathers went one by one, Lev could almost feel himself becoming something else. Others cried, both from the pain and from the thought of losing the last shreds of their individuality. The Terrans, however, didn't seem to feel at all. They just focused on their jobs, like they were working at a desk at some company, doing boring and menial work that didn't mean a thing. But instead of accounting, they were working to take away the very identity of thousands of people, one feather at a time.

Lev didn't cry, though. He was like the Terrans, he just didn't feel. It didn't seem real, but he knew it was. It was like being in denial, but even worse. His stomach tightened up as he realized that he wasn't feeling anything while he saw his brothers and sisters stripped of anything that was theirs, even of the possessions they were born with. When the nightmare was over, they simply woke into a second one, being shooed out of the room like cattle, into the next room. Lev felt like he was just floating in a stream now, simply staring at the world glassy-eyed while his body moved on its own according to whatever everyone else was doing.

They were given stark white prisoner uniforms, tracking devices attached to each and every one. Nobody could go anywhere without it being on the schedule, nobody could try to escape, nobody could even go to talk with those in another tent without the risk of being beaten. As they exited the building to see the walking corpses outside, the remnants of what were once people, they truly realized something for the first time.

They were going to die here.

Newy Warszawa, Zarmina, Capital of the Republic of Zarmina

An explosion rocked the building as the glass picture window crashed, shrapnel from a tank flying through it. The zaps of firing railguns once again filled the air of Zarmina's largest city and capital. In the days before, everyone knew there was something brewing, whispers of freedom from the underground, but none of the Terrans could have expected that the revolt would be so effective. There was even an improvised Zarminian tank roaming the streets, somehow besting the supposedly perfect Panther Mk2s of the Terran Army.

A molotov cocktail flew through the shattered window, killing a squad of rescue personnel coming to help any survivors of the shrapnel. The weapon was ancient, but age doesn't matter if it can still kill. Rudolf was lying on the floor, trying to avoid the gunfire. A medic from the rescue team fell right beside him, her eyes no longer blinking and her heart no longer pumping. Her arm lay over his back, still warm. Rudolf has been through training, and had already fought, but he wasn't ready for this kind of warfare. There were no longer combatants and non-combatants, anyone who spoke a different language was the enemy.

A Zarminian holding a civilian-model railgun rifle stepped through the window, three molotovs haphazardly strapped to his belt waiting to be thrown. Rudolf froze, thinking that if he played dead they wouldn't fire. He was wrong. A shot rang out, hitting the head of the medic lying next to him. He closed his eyes immediately, warm blood splattering onto his arm. He refused to look at the medic's head, he'd heard the stories of what happens to people shot at point-blank with a railgun.

Knowing that he was no longer safe, he abruptly turned his head around, facing away from the dead medic. Opening his eyes, he found that the Zarminian was making sure that the others were dead, looking away from him as he fired on a volunteer rescue technician. His own railgun lay right next to his hand, well within his reach. Slowly and silently extending his arm, he grasped the railgun's handle, pulling it closer to himself. Setting it up to use his shoulder as a brace, he aimed it at the Zarminian's back. The Zarminian turned around to make sure the rest were dead, and saw Rudolf lying there with a gun aimed right at his chest.

The Zarminian tried to fire, but Rudolf's finger was already on the trigger. A single tungsten slug shot through the Zarminian's chest, a small splatter of blood exiting with the slug through his back. Both hit the wall, leaving behind a slug lodged in the wall surrounded by red, a common sight in urban combat areas. Finally breathing again, he stood up, returning the railgun to its standard combat carry position and ran down the hallway to the comms room.

It had already been a month, and there was no sign of the 19th Transport Fleet. Still, there might be a chance that there were close enough to perform an emergency jump and land their relief force early. As he ran through the hallway, he could hear more explosions and the screams that resulted. Through the rare windows, he could see hovertanks spiraling out of control. They plowed into buildings that had stood for centuries, demolishing them in seconds, their sharply-sloped carbyne armor cutting through the brick buildings like a knife through butter.

I have to get a message out! He thought, his steps getting longer and faster as he ran down the hallway, the sounds of battle seemingly tormenting him as he dashed for the communications room. I must bring reinforcements!

After what he could have sworn was an eternity, he reached the communications room, finding the interstellar communicator still intact. He dialed in all of the 19th Fleet's possible locations, setting the wormhole exits that would let the message travel hundreds of light years in an instant. The flick of a switch under a broken glass case activated the quantum hotline, which would ensure that the message would reach High Command. He wanted to be sure that someone knew what was going on, be they in the system or on the other side of the Orion Spur.

"This is Specialist Rudolf Veit of the 12th Terran Army!" He said, yelling into the microphone. "We are stationed on the planet Zarmina in the republic of the same name, a major uprising has occurred! Zarminian insurgents armed with small arms and IEDs are assaulting our forces all over the city! Enemy organization is unknown, enemy backing is unknown, enemy has been confirmed to be using improvised combat vehicles! We need immediate backup! I repeat, immediate backup!"

He heard footsteps behind him, and spun around to see another insurgent reaching for a molotov in order to destroy the equipment. Their eyes met straight on, and they could each see the fear on the other's eyes. For a brief moment, Rudolf wondered how different they were, if this Zarminian had a wife and two kids just like he did. What if he was fighting to protect them, even more literally than Rudolf himself? Part of him wanted to throw down his gun, and ask why they were doing it.

However, that was nothing more than the wild imaginings of his emotional side. His other side, the side that remembered the months of training and combat, begged to differ. It told him to raise his gun and shoot for the heart, which he did immediately. The Zarminian fell over, the same eyes that made Rudolf question his duty turning from shining windows to the soul to lifeless, unblinking features on the face of a rapidly cooling corpse. The Zarminian rebel wheezed out one last sentence before he died, in a language that Rudolf didn't know.

"Moja miłość... Przepraszam."

Wiping his mind of what had just happened, he sealed the room and returned to the microphone, yelling desperately into it in the hopes of getting a response.

"Specialist Rudolf Veit to 19th Terran Transport Fleet, do you read? I repeat, 19th Terran Transport Fleet, do you read? This is Specialist Rudolf Veit of the 12th Terran Army to the 12th Terran Transport Fleet, we are under attack and require assistance! Do you read, 19th?"

His messages became more and more disjointed as his fear grew, knowing that if nobody answered, he could die there. By the time a response finally came, his messages has descended into almost complete inanity.

"This is the 19th Terran Transport Fleet to 12th Terran Army, repeat situation!"

"Thank God you heard!" Exclaimed Rudolf, regaining his composure in that single instant. "I'm Specialist Rudolf Veit of the 12th Terran Army. We are under attack from Zarminian rebels, they're better equipped than we expected and we need support! I'm requesting that you land the relief forces early!"

"Specialist Veit, the situation has changed." Said the voice on the other end, which took on a grave tone. "The 219th was wiped out, the Perseus Union is pushing for Zarmina. We're here to evacuate you now."

"Then do it!" Yelled Rudolf, the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer.

"Specialist, calm down! We're on our way!"

Now there was banging on the doors, with one of them lighting up as someone with a plasma cutter began to cut through it.

"U-Understood! 12th Terran Army out!"

The door fell into the room just as Rudolf spun around, railgun in hand, to find five Zarminian rebels. Without even thinking, he fires a spray of bullets, not aiming for any particular body part or person. They all fell, and Rudolf didn't even realize what he had just done. All he wanted to do now was survive, he didn't care how many people he killed, only that he survived. Luckily for him, the other groups didn't have plasma cutters, and could do nothing but bang on the doors unless they were willing to use a molotov in the hallway. So he just sat there. His railgun raised, completely alert for any sign of hostiles. It was like that for a horrifying five hours. Many times he wanted to just fall asleep, but his instincts wouldn't let him. They would only let him fall asleep when the danger was gone.

After those five hours of being reduced to nothing more than his instincts, the doors opened. At first, he thought he would die, but then he saw that the soldiers outside we're Terran. The 19th had gotten through. He and the rest of the 12th were safe now.

"Specialist Veit?" Asked one of the soldiers, lowering his rail gun as Rudolf did the same.

"Yes sir, 12th Terran Army."

"Well, Specialist, you saved everyone today." Said the soldier, smiling. "If not for that message, we would have never known to make an emergency jump. I'll bet Eumeh will like to hear this."

I did save them, didn't I? Thought Rudolf, relaxing for the first time in five hours.

"Just get us off of this this planet." He said, walking towards the door. "I think the whole Army has had enough."

Terran High Command, Olympus Mons City, Mars

"HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!" Yelled Kevra, slamming her fist down on the conference table as the others backed away in fear.

It had been only a few months since the loss of the 219th fleet during the invasion of the Perseus Union. Even so, the Terrans had already lost nearly everything they had conquered. Sagittarius was gone, Zarmina was gone, all they had left was original Terran space. The enemy forces kept creeping into even that too, with many of the outer systems being lost.

"Führer, we are doing all that we c-" Said the High Admiral, hoping to calm Kevra.

"BE QUIET, ADMIRAL!" She yelled in response, making it clear that she had no interest in any kind of excuse. "This was supposed to be our return to power... and now we're losing the war! I won't let this happen. All of you, you are not doing your best! Humanity's best is not failing against this!"

"Führer, we can't win this war! Just end it and prepare for the next!" Said General Eumeh, desperately trying to convince the Führer to end the war. However, she seemed to have other ideas.

"You will follow my orders, General! Move your troops to defensive positions inside our space!" She yelled, silencing any further protests. She looked at the holographic map, staring at proof of her failure. She gambled with lives, and she lost. All the calculations she had made, all the crimes she committed, all the people she had killed or sent to die, it was all in vain. After this, humanity would just be looked upon worse than ever before.

No! She thought, clenching her fists as she looked at the map with a deranged stare. I can still do it! I can still restore the Empire!

Nova Terra, Terran Reich Core World

"You! A-7713! Over here!"

It was one of the sweltering days on Nova Terra, the three suns of the Centauri system scorching the planet's surface. Only the biodome kept the environment livable, but it clearly wasn't meant to keep it comfortable. The Murtadan were especially unaccustomed to it, with many of them coming from either their planet's frozen wastes or the thin strip of temperate land. Lev himself was from the frozen wastes, the heat taking quite a toll on his malnourished and already broken body.

The voice of the Terran forced him to comply, it was almost an instinct now, obeying them. His mind might scream for him to run, but his legs followed the orders of the Terrans. He walked over to the Terran, his all-bone legs just barely supporting his thin body. It had been weeks, months- he didn't know how long. All that he knew was that it had been at least 2 years since the last molting he had before the nightmare began. His wings were looking worse than ever, their featherless hide filled with scars from beatings the Terrans gave him. He didn't understand why they were doing this, all he knew was that they were, and that was enough for his instincts.

"Y-yes, Sir?" He said weakly, lowering his gaze to the Terran's feet.

"A-7713, follow me."

"Y-yes, Sir."

The Terran walked slowly, letting Lev stay close to him. It wasn't something he had expected, Terrans usually forced the Murtadan to run with them, even though they knew they couldn't. Those that gave in were beaten, as were those who stopped to watch. This Terran, however, seemed to care that Lev couldn't possibly keep up with him at a normal pace.

Eventually, they reached a secluded alley somewhere in between the mess and the barracks, the Terran ones, of course. Once again, it came as a surprise to Lev. He had expected the crematorium. He hadn't disobeyed any orders, done anything that would make the Terrans angry. However, it was well known that they would burn people alive no matter who they were, just to keep everyone else in line. For whatever reason, though, this man had taken him into the middle of nowhere.

"Here, take this." Said the Terran, handing Lev a slice of bread. It looked like a feast to him, his rations usually got stolen by the others, so he almost never got the full ration. It was just enough to survive anyways, and he knew he was slowly dying. After staring at the bread for a moment, he stuffed it into his mouth, eating it in seconds. The scene would have been funny had he not looked like a skeleton. If he had been thinking, he would have assumed that the bread was poisoned in some way. However, starving to death has a way of letting your instincts take over.

It wasn't filling at all, but it was enough to let him live for days. He looked up at the Terran, who was smiling. Not the sick, almost psychotic smile that the Terrans showed when they were beating Murtadan. It was a soft, compassionate smile, like something Lev would expect from his mother. Filled with questions, he opened his mouth. The Terran held up a hand, with the smile still on his face.

"I know what you want to know." Said the Terran, guessing Lev's question. "It's because you don't deserve this. All of this, it's supposed to be in our past, the past that too many of us forgot. I didn't forget."

"But... they'll kill you..." Said Lev, still unable to understand why the Terran would help him. "You could save yourself..."

"I can help, so I do help." Came the Terran's response, as he turned to leave. "Meet me here every day, and I'll get you some food."

Lev's first instinct was to be wary. The Terran could easily be tricking him just to have some fun, but then their eyes met. Lev could somehow tell that he was sincere, that this was the first friend he met since he left his hometown. It was such an odd situation, the only friend he had in the world was an alien who wore the uniform of his oppressors.

"I will, sir!" Said Lev, overjoyed at the thought of someone who wouldn't beat him or steal from him.

"Please, my name is Alexander. Alexander Boni."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Lev returned to his tent, hoping to tell his father the good news. Of course, he couldn't do so yet, he would have to wait until everyone was gone. If they heard, they would kill him for it.

Nova Terra, Midnight a Month Later

Lev awoke with a jolt to a flash of light and a scream. He wanted to know what had happened, but he didn't dare go out at night. If the guards saw him, that would be his death. Then he heard a thump, like a sack of potatoes falling to the ground. More flashes, screams, and thumps followed, and Lev's curiosity got the better of him. He got up and opened the tent, looking outside to see what was going on. He was met with the sight of a Terran corpse, a hole placed perfectly right between its eyes.

Looking up, he found that the guard tower above was empty. The guard had fallen, whatever was used to kill him was strong enough to knock him off. There were only two species that could handle a gun that powerful: the Zhànshì, and the Perseans. Since the Zhànshì were all over the camp anyways, it was quite clear who it was.

Is this the end? Thought Lev, still staring into the sky. Is this horrid nightmare finally over?

He could have sworn that he saw a few stars eclipsed by something, but he didn't have much time to think about it. The zapping of a railgun filled his ears, the screams of another Terran following. He saw Alexander running towards him, railgun in hand.

"Lev! Thank God!" He yelled, abruptly coming to a stop by planting his feet into the ground. "It's the Perseans! They're here! You're saved, Lev! You're all saved!"

His eyes were filled with tears, and the happiest smile Lev had ever seen was on his face. Lev, too, smiled, starting to cry tears of joy with him. A bomb struck the Terran barracks, dropped from orbit. They went up in flames, with all the Terran soldiers desperately trying to fight the fire. Unfortunately, they were perfect targets for the Perseans. Flashes lit up in the sky, paratroopers opening fire with hastily assembled railguns.

Lev embraced Alexander, his head coming up to only his chin on the towering man.

"Thank you" Was all that he said.

"You're welcome, son." Said Alexander, returning the action. "You're welcome."

Earth, Terran Reich Capital

"Attention all 12th Terran Army units! We have recieved our orders!"

The General's voice could barely be heard over the gunfire and explosions. The allies had made it all the way to Earth. They had taken all the lands around the capital itself, and now, they were pushing into it. The Perseans from the east, and the rest of the allies from the west. The government building, the Reich itself, was in flames. All the soldiers expected to be told to defend the city, but it would be in vain. It was the end, the war had been lost.

"The Führer herself has ordered us to defend the city. We are to defeat the enemy at any cost and save the capital. Those are her orders. Now it's time for my orders."

Rudolf stopped firing for a moment and ducked behind cover, wondering what the General meant. Was there even something else to do? If they surrendered, the Perseans would just kill them right there. There just wasn't a way out of it, they were dead no matter what.

"We are going to open up a corridor to the river! All soldiers are to protect evacuating civilians and members of the 9th Army! We do not leave until every last one is across!"

With that single order, Rudolf was no longer afraid of pain or bullets. He was no longer afraid of how he would be remembered or what would happen to his family. He knew that he'd be tried as a war criminal for serving Terra, he knew that his family could be dead right now, but he didn't care. Because right then, he knew his sole purpose was to save lives. The people of the city, the soldiers of the 9th, their lives were all in his hands and the hands of every man and woman in the 12th Terran Army.

He leapt out of cover, opening fire with his railgun. The slugs struck the enemy soldiers, killing them one by one as he ran towards the rest of the Army. A railgun slug hit his cybernetic leg, but he didn't care. As long as it still worked, he was fine. Breaking out of the alleys and into the streets, he saw the rest of the 12th. He ran to join the formation, breaking through the Persean lines in a wedge, inching closer and closer to the river.

The last Persean fell, and the river Spree came into full view. On the other side lay the end of the war, the end of this life of killing and battle. The faces of the other soldiers made it clear that they were thinking the same thing, imagining the looks on their families' faces when they returned. They might not, they might even be killed after surrendering, but they didn't care. At that moment, the world was about to become perfect for them.

Civilians rushed out of their homes, flooding into the streets and jumping into boats docked along the riverside. A constant stream of people-civilians and soldiers alike-crossed it, making their way to the other side. Rudolf was almost at the front, almost at the boat that would take him to the other side, to the side where the Perseans wouldn't be able to torture him, kill him, or worse. His salvation was so close

A young girl was right next to him, though he didn't get a good look at her. He was too filled with excitement about crossing the river, leaving this cursed war behind. But then he heard it. The most important sound he would ever hear: the zap of a railgun. He spun around, seeing the tungsten slug glisten in the sunlight. Time almost stopped for him right then, and it felt as though he had an infinite amount of time to think about his decision. However, he didn't think for a second. Seeing that it was just to his left, he jumped into action, flinging himself as fast as he could into the air to his left, hoping to take the bullet for whomever it was meant for.

It hit him square in the chest, the impact slowing it to non-lethal levels as it passed through his body, hitting another soldier's armor. He fell onto the ground, right in front of the young girl. As his vision faded, he caught a single, distorted glimpse of her face. With his last breath, he pleaded to her, begging her to tell his family what happened.

"I am Rudolf Veit... tell my family... that I died... as a hero..."

His heartbeat faded away, his breathing stopped, and his eyes fell shut. As his life faded away, he had one last thought, his true last words.

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Earth, Terran Reich Capital

Elsewhere in the capital, the Führer herself was sitting in a simple, wooden chair. Her elbows rested on a table which hadn't been polished in decades, while the almost silent sounds of battle could be heard miles away. It was the old city bunker, a relic that some said had existed for centuries. Though the sounds were muffled, they were there all the same, constantly reminding Kevra of her failure, of the calculated sacrifice that had been in vain.

"Why... why did I do this?" She asked herself aloud, tears streaming down her cheeks as for the first time, she realized what had happened. "All of them, they all died without reason! So many soldiers died just to see their home be invaded again, and so many died by our hands for no purpose!"

She reached into a small drawer under the table, pulling out an old coilgun pistol with a single slug. As her hands shook, she loaded the gun and flipped off the safety. She didn't bother to write a note, didn't even bother to let anyone know why she did what she did. Now, she knew that there was no excusing it. After all the years of her life, this was the first time that she had grasped something. It was an idea taken for granted by nearly everyone else in the universe, an idea so integral in so many cultures that challenging it would get you labeled as an absolute monster.

For some, there was no way not to challenge it. For some, the idea never made sense. Kevra was one of those people, yet somehow, she had managed to figure it out. After decade upon decade of confusion and ignorance, she finally understood why the idea was held so closely to the hearts of every known species in the galaxy. It was the reason the neighbors of Murtadan cried when they saw their former friends being taken away, it was the reason soldiers could bring themselves to do things that Kevra formerly couldn't see as anything but complete insanity.

It was the reason General Eumeh frowned at enemy casualties, it was the reason Admiral Norbert cringed every time he got a report of a successful planetary bombardment. It was why the 12th Army had disobeyed her orders, and it was why so, so many of her own soldiers had joined the war in the first place.

"A life is more than a number." She said to herself, bringing the coilgun up to her head. "No note, no video. Everyone will remember me as a monster, but at least they will remember me, remember all of this. Remember it, so that it will never happen again."

The last sound she heard was the quiet zap of the coilgun, and it was all over.

And this time, nobody ever forgot.

---

Author's Notes

I would like to draw attention to the fact that the Battle of Newy Wizna is based entirely off of the real-life Battle of Wizna, which was extremely close to the version depicted in this story. 720 Polish troops held off 42,000 German men for four days before they were defeated. The evacuation of the unnamed city (which some may have guessed correctly to be Berlin due to the mention of the Spree River) also occurred, and was orchestrated by none other than General Walther Wenck of the 12th Army. However, he and his men crossed the Elbe River, which later formed the border between West and East Germany.

Lev Haskel's name, means (very) roughly "The heart which God strengthens". This is less me saying that God was with those in the death camps (I'm agnostic, after all), and more me saying that unbelievable amounts of willpower were needed to go through what happened there.

Kevra Könntesein, as you all already figured out, is the "Not Adolf Hitler" I talked about in the disclaimer. Again, I must say that she and her thoughts are not mean to represent Hitler in any way. I will, however, give you the meaning of her name. It roughly means "Beauty could be", though in this case, this is to be taken as "Beauty that could have been". This is meant to show how good of a person she could have been remembered as if she hadn't gone to such extreme ends to accomplish her goals. As was implied, she did have the intention of restoring Terran holdings in the galaxy and once again setting them in a place of power. However, as she said at the end, she never realized that lives were more than numbers. This is not her somehow avoiding ever learning that, this is indicative of her being (at least somewhat similar to) a sociopath. In real life, sociopaths don't suddenly flip the "on" switch in their brain for morality. Some can integrate just fine into society (Like Kevra, while "Being Hitler" doesn't really sound like integrating, remember that she had a somewhat normal life before that), while others become the serial killers that make everyone see sociopaths as naturally evil people. Kevra's epiphany would almost certainly never actually happen, but this is fiction, and I would rather have her be more than a plot device instead of being realistic.

Alexander Boni, the ten or so lines he appeared in, is a character I wish I could have done more with. I wanted us to have a better look at his motivations and desires, but in the end, he became a side character. For those wondering, he is a Communist, and lied in order to survive. He was drafted into the military, and unfortunately lied too much for his own good, seeming loyal enough to get a posting in a concentration camp. He helps out whoever he can, and we can all assume that he had multiple others whom he provided with food. His name is possibly one of the more ill-fitting ones here, but I figure I might as well explain its meaning: It means "Defender of peace".

For those of you who are wondering (Which is all of you who didn't immediately pause reading to go open up a google translate tab), "Moja miłość... Przepraszam" (the last words of the second Zarminian rebel Rudolf killed) mean "My love... I'm worry" in Polish (google translate polish, at least). Everything Rudolf imagined about him was true, and he was fighting to save his wife, a Murtadan, from being found by the Terrans.

Murtadan, for those who are wondering, is a bastardization of the word "Chosen" in some language. I unfortunately can't remember which one.

Now, I have twenty minutes until the deadline, so I'll end this right here. I sincerely hope you enjoyed my story, and I would be overjoyed to receive some feedback on it! I wrote this to improve my writing, and you can't learn from your mistakes unless they're pointed out to you in the first place!

New and Looking for Possible Mutuals

Welcome :)

There's a lot to explore on this site, but once you're acquainted with all the different categories I'm sure you'll find something to do here.

TDAC#3 - Celestial Lights (Theme and discussion)

Welcome to the Traditional & Digital Art Contest #3

Celestial Lights

Celestial:
1. Of or relating to the sky or physical universe as understood in astronomy
2. Of or relating to heaven; divine

With Celestial having both an astrological and spiritual meaning, you may decide how you want to express this in your art.

There is also a writing competition with the same theme and if your art will function as cover art for your story, you have a chance of winning both. If you only win one of the contest, both entries will still be displayed (so either your story will be added in a hidebox in the Museum of TDAC winners, or your cover will be added in a hidebox in the RPGC Trophy case)

May the Celestial Lights illuminate your work.

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Core rules:

• At all times follow the Fundamental Rules of the Guild and the Moderation Policy for Forum Contests.
• The work of art you submit must be made by you and specifically for this contest.
• This is a place for original art, no fanart allowed.
• No pornographic images/images showing explicit nudity.
• No excessive gore.
• Don’t forget to subscribe to this thread. You will receive updates on the contest and on the number of entries, and reminders about the deadline here. I will not PM them.
• The winner of this contest will be honoured in our Museum

Contest rules:

• As stated, the theme is Celestial Lights, but any interpretation of what this means to you is allowed as an entry. There are no restrictions in the medium you use to express your art.
• All entries must be submitted digitally, even the traditional ones. You can take a photograph of the drawing/painting and submit that.
• Please PM @Calle the entries and give it as title TDAC#3 - (Your Title).
• Your entry can be anonymous or carry your name. Let me know what you want in the PM. If you don't specify, your entry will be posted anonymously, but you may always claim your story during or after the voting round.
  Even for anonymous entries, the name of the artist will be added to the entry in the Museum.
• The deadline is February 1st, 9:00 CET, which is 8:00 game time (both times are in a.m.)

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Number of entries so far: 3

RPGC #30 - Celestial Lights (Prompt and discussion)

RPGC #30 – Celestial Lights

Celestial:
1. Of or relating to the sky or physical universe as understood in astronomy
2. Of or relating to heaven; divine

With Celestial having both an astrological and spiritual meaning, you may choose in what way celestial will be the theme of your story. If you don’t know what to choose there is always the option to combine both definitions in your story.

May the Celestial Lights guide you as you write this story.

There is also an art contest with the same theme and if you decide to make cover art for your story, you have a shot at winning both contest. But if you only win one both entries will still be displayed (so either your story will be added in a hidebox in the Museum of TDAC winners, or your cover will be added in a hidebox in the RPGC Trophy case)

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Core rules:

• At all times follow the Fundamental Rules of the Guild and the Moderation Policy for Forum Contests.
• After reading the above this should be obvious: No plagiarism and respect copyright laws.
• The story you submit must be written by you and specifically for this contest.
• This is a place for original fiction, no fanfiction allowed.
• No explicit sex, but you may fade to black.
• No excessive violence or gore.
• Don’t forget to subscribe to this thread. You will receive updates on the contest and on the number of entries, and reminders about the deadline here. I will not PM them.
• The winner of this contest will be honoured in our Trophy Case.

Contest rules:

• There will be a minimum word count of 500 and a maximum of 5000
• Please PM @Calle the entries and give it as title RPGC#30 - (Your Title).
• Your entry can be anonymous or carry your name. Let me know what you want in the PM. If you don't specify, your entry will be posted anonymously, but you may always claim your story during or after the voting round.
  Even for anonymous entries, the name of the writer will be added to the entry in the Hall of Fame.
• The deadline is February 1st 9:00 CET, which is 8:00 game time (both times are in a.m.)

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Number of entries so far: 3

Nobody Will Believe It [SporkoBug and Calle]

"A lot of people don't believe what they can't witness themselves and can't be proven by science," Benjamin said, yawning again, "but I think I'm going to sleep. Good night, Ari. It was nice talking with you."
It really was, and he was glad he had the opportunity, but it really was time to end it now.

---

Back at his house, Marc was sitting in an armchair watching some tv, but his mind wandered a lot to Sara. He'd see her again next day and he was already looking forward to that. Late shift, he had to get in before lunch and help with the meals. That also made him think about Carol, who he always helped with eating. He hoped something could be done about her catatonic state. He had seen something on her file about a change of therapy. Hopefully it would catch on.

Paranormal Activities [SporkoBug and Calle]

"Why would the boss want to track me?" Benjamin asked. "I've got nothing to fear from him; I didn't break any rules, I'm human with a very uninteresting ability, and as far as he knows I'm still an agent. Which, until I resign, I still am. I think he would be suspicious if he couldn't reach me, so I'll keep it on me for now."

---

The field agents and analists who had remained at the building - some with the order to stay behind to defend the base against a tread and some deliberately not told there had been an evacutation - noticed the thunder and the rumble. The light in mr Johnson's office was on and a silhouette could be seen through the window.

A few agents stationed on the roofs looked around and held their rifles ready.

---

"A change of room then, perhaps," Lily said, nodding gently. "One more suited to your needs. With your own bathroom and a television set. This is really just a temporary room, darling. A mandatoru quarantine for everyone who will stay here for a while. If you will allow us to take some blood for testing, I will make sure you will be the first appointed a room in this facility. And you will get room service too."

Paranormal Activities [SporkoBug and Calle]

"Good, we aren't taking your car," Mitch said to Duncan. "I told you they are staying with me tonight, so they will ride with me. You can take her to the ocean."

"I'm getting the feeling we don't have much of an option here," Benjamin said with an amused sound in his voice.
"You think?" Mike replied, grinning in response to Mitch's glare. "You were never going to tell us about your profession if Benjamin hadn't been dating your last target, right?"

Mitch shrugged and nodded; that was true. He never had any intention to tell Mike or his friends. Stumbling across Benjamin during that mission had been unforeseen, but he didn't regret it. He eyes the guys in this room, all people he didn't know, related in some way to this Harriet person he only knew from stories. He gritted his teeth. How he hated to not know things; he would have a stern talk with his friends later on to be filled in on all the details.

---

Lily watched Steph as she crossed her arms, examining her behaviour for a moment. "You know, Rose is pleasant to talk to, she already feels at home, made herself a nice little cocoon and everything. And I want you to feel at ease too. What do I need to do to make you feel at home here? Do you want me to get Benjamin for you?" Her voice sounded sweet, and the smile seemed genuine, but there was a glistening in her eyes that was hard to place. "One word and I will let someone pick him up," she promised.