This post is the next instalment of the Space Opera I've been writing telling the tale of Admiral Alex Deroma.
Each episode is inspired by a writing prompt in the Worldbuilding Community, which is a fun way of writing because although I've got a very rough storyline mapped out, the writing prompts can send it careering off in new and unexpected directions. It's fun ! The prompt I've used for this one is Worldbuilding Prompt #565 - Teamups
Alex knew she was dreaming, but she refused to wake up. She was in that cozy place between sleep and dozing where she knew she was in bed tucked up between clean white sheets, but was simultaneously dreaming of floating through space with nothing but her nightgown to protect her and no need to breathe.
The last thing she wanted to do was wake up and go to school. But for some reason, her mother was tapping her insistently in the middle of the forehead.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Time to wake up, Alexandra. It's a school day, rise and shine ! You'll never get to be a captain in the space fleet if you're late logging into the tutorial !"
She loved her mother, but her voice could be awfully nagging when it was time to get out of bed.
She mumbled something incoherent back, to convey the message that another five minutes of dozing would be fine.
Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP.
"Wake up Alex. Wake up. WAKE UP!"
That wasn't her mother's voice. Her eyes snapped open.
It took a few moments of confusion to work out what was going on. Yes, she was horizontal, but she wasn't in bed. Oh crap !
Image created by AI in Wombo.art
It all came back to her in a rush. Leading Third Legion into battle. The four Slaver battle cruisers sweeping in on the port side, knocking down the Moonfall's shields just as the enemy battleship above them decloaked and emptied it's missile bays at point blank range. The crash dive onto Margal VI and being pulled half-conscious into an escape pod by BrownASP-Brigadier Garrad.
Looking around her Alex realised that the pod had landed, but was on it's tail, which is why her couch was laid back horizontal. The right wall was ripped open by the impact, the occupants of the three couches on that side nothing but red smears and bone fragments.
To her left was blackness.... wait, it was feathers.... Shade ! Somehow, her Endellian Magpie had survived the carnage. The bird looked at her and blinked with satisfaction, as if knowing that pecking on her forehead would wake her up.
Also standing over her was Garrad, and Viard, one of the Moonfall's comtechs. She wondered if there were any other survivors.
"I'm glad you're awake, Admiral," said Garrad, "I was afraid we'd lost you. Try getting up, see if you can walk. As soon as I've bandaged your head wound we need to get moving, this is a Slaver planet and they'll have parties out looking for anyone who lands."
They had moved slowly through the hilly landscape for hours, carrying what weapons and supplies they had been able to salvage from the wrecked pod. The cold rain was incessant, that kind of steady rain that sets in for a whole day.
But judging by the state of the ground, this was a rain that went on for weeks or months. Every step sank into fine mud slurry to a depth of two or three inches. There wasn't really a solid bottom, just increasing resistance until the mud bore their weight.
On the sides of the hills were large fields, with ditches running down the hillsides to control the water, draining away the excess and ensuring the upper slopes received enough water. The crops were unfamiliar, but clearly liked the climate. They looked like some kind of large grey-green cabbage, and one they'd pulled up had a dense and deep mesh of fine roots ideal for extracting nutrients and minerals from the rich soil. The roots held a host of tubers, and both parts looked like they might be edible. Not very appetising, but probably quite nutritious.
Image created by AI in Wombo.art
Now, as they slowly crested yet another nameless hill, they spotted the first inhabitants they'd seen.
The fields below them surrounded a group of domed structures clustered in a precise grid around a larger central one. In the fields, they could see people working. It was clear from their slow, stolid movements that they were slaves. It was also clear from the small group in the centre lounging around not working who the overseers were.
Alex, Garrad and Viard probably looked like just another party of slaves as they moved slowly down the hillside. By this stage, they were soaked and covered in mud, so they blended in nicely with the mud coloured garb of the actual slaves. It took little effort to mirror the way the slaves moved; they were exhausted.
They managed to get to within a hundred feet before the overseers even noticed them. One looked up casually, and shouted an alarm to it's comrades.
The overseers were cruel-looking clawed creatures, taller than the Imperials or slaves, maybe with some reptile-type creature in their ancestry. It didn't help them; they were armed with slave-prods of some kind, close quarter weapons fine for keeping order among slaves but useless against the Sheller-Rifles carried by Alex and Garrad, and the PlasmaPulse pistol wielded by Viard. They were dead a mere second or two after realising their visitors weren't just more slaves.
The slaves themselves were small furry people dressed in mud-coloured rags. The fur did more to protect them from the rain than the rags ever would. Most of them seemed bemused by the turn of events. One of the men kicked savagely at an overseer body, but most were clearly still trying to work out what had just happened. They still looked down, as their overseers had made them do.
All but one. A child. She looked up at Alex and spoke, using a lilting and accented but intelligible dialect of the lingua franca used by both Imperials and Confed.
"Are you Imperials ? Have you come to free us from the Masters ?"
The child's mother grabbed her urgently by the shoulder. "Mira ! You know you shouldn't speak unless you are spoken to !"
Alex knelt down next to Mira. "Yes, we are Imperials. We need your help first, but yes, we have come. Not to free you, but to help you free yourselves. You and we together will be a team."
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the expression that flickered across Garrad's face.
This was way outside their mission objectives. How were three exhausted, lightly-armed survivors from a smashed and crashed ship going to free a whole planet from the ruthless Slavers ?
Alex didn't care, she just knew it was what she had to do.
To be continued.....
Previous parts of Alex's Saga;
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Mira and the slaves first appeared in Worldbuilding Prompt #546 - The Hovels of Margal VI
The First Saga, the Tale of Fedric - Final Part - with links to all the previous parts.
