Chapter 1
Dew dampened the tailored and sculpted grass, tear drops falling from the blades, a silent sorrow for those lost in the conflict known as life on Earth. Overpopulation was now undoubtedly a problem, but not the highest concern of the emperor. The first initiative was a genius way by his own mind to combat the overpopulation, increasing the expected hauls from the Luna’s mines, decreasing their living standards, ‘relocating’ anyone who disagreed with his agenda, he knew it was only a matter of time before all the fuel that he was pouring in to the timebomb that was the Luna Colony would erupt in to a glorious secession again. He would be able to further bulk out his armies without the worry of upsetting his subjects that are loyal to his family, he would also be able to extinguish much of the burden fire that was overpopulation by simply having the armies have at each other. And the Mars complex was almost complete.
No, by all means, the overpopulation was a problem, but the emperor already had his answer to that little issue. What was keeping the wrinkled cranium of the Imperium of Earth awake at night was resources. Earth’s natural resources have long become severely depleted, the Luna Mines could only turn out so much, and the populations of Luna had become resentful towards their far more luxurious parent planet. Unhappy that all the hard labours and sacrifices that they make, are only to fatten the coffers of the already bursting vaults of Earth. The mines, as of late, had not exceeded any quotas, merely matching what was expected of them, the emperor will soon see that they exceed their ‘expected quotas’ without threat of a military, but by a simple picture of the red planet. His magnificent creation on Mars will solve both of his problems.
A few years ago, the Luna colony rose up against the emperor, as if they had received his timeframe and plans to rise and had followed them all beautifully. He had used his mighty fleet and ground forces to decimate all those who could not see his obviously magnificent vision. This came at the cost of millions of lives, it certainly cut the food bank line down a few notches. The Luna Colony had been taken back, rebuilt and expanded to allow new expected quotas, and soon enough, the bunks of the colony were soon filled with those that had fallen out of favour with the emperor and those who had committed crimes.
Emperor Syphodias softy swung upon his oak woven tree chair. The weeping willow branches softly brushing against his shining bald head, his soft morning slippers damp from the dew upon the grass. Birds singing and the first signs of spring had begun to bloom, the bluebells and daffodils had long shot up, but now were beginning to flower. He sighed, his breath hanging in the air, still clinging to the winters chill as the sun’s meagre attempts to warm his face only succeeded by a fraction of what he hoped.
News of the disaster of Merriden IV had reached his ears, and he had immediately censored every single piece of information regarding the expedition’s fate. It had been used as a massive propaganda scheme to calm the masses in to believing that there was soon to be a brighter future, soon there will be other planets to colonise, if news of this disaster got out, Emperor Syphodias would have another rebellion to deal with, and this one would not be of his own making. Every member of the higher command that was present at the time of the news being delivered, or was capable of interpreting the information via their station were given one single warning. Censorship, or Mars. The faces in the room went a unique colour of white at the mere mention of the planet, this pleased Emperor Syphodias greatly.
On Mars, dirty boots shuffled along the once clean and shining white tile floor of the corridor leading down to the exposure chambers. Four men, skin dirtied from hard labour, dressed in bright yellow reflective clothing and hard hats perched atop their heads carried down a long slender metal rod, they knew not what they carried, only that this one was heading to Exposure Room One to be installed, and that there was nineteen more just like it to be installed in the other nineteen exposure rooms. The air was close and heavy. They hadn’t got the air conditioning quite right down here yet. “Come on, lads. The sooner we get these in, the sooner we can get some grub!” encouraged the lead worker, his eyes as dark has his skin, his clothes bulging with muscle formed through a lifetime of hard labour. The other three groaned a little. The tube wasn’t heavy, or awkward to carry, they were just tired, eighteen hours they had been working today, they were ready for it to be over, just then, it was. As they entered the exposure chamber, the rear worker, not really paying attention anymore didn’t judge the threshold correctly and tripped, bringing the metal tube down at the rear, it bent with high groan before splitting a smooth tear in its skin and releasing a puff of greenish grey smoke. The workers halted and held their breath, in shock not knowing how to act to what they saw.
Was the greeny smoke a biproduct of the atmosphere or was it something serious?
Did all twenty rods have to be in by tomorrow, or would nineteen be okay?
It didn’t matter. They soon felt the effects of what they had released. Their skin felt hot and itchy, a rash quickly formed across their arms and neck, red and blotchy. The youngest workers nose began to bleed, another ones eyes, then ears, their skin began to bubble, they could smell their flesh cooking, it felt like their skin was crisping under the intense heat of the rash. Soon they began to lose consciousness, and soon after, their skin took on a paler hew, their fingers elongated to form something resembling claws, their abdomens, legs and arms stretched making their skin taught against their bones, and then, their eyes opened. A lighting blue iris darted across the room, and they began to hiss.
And with that. The Banshee came to the Solar System.
