Taken

Prologue

Roskier

I couldn’t comprehend why Eve insisted that the scene in that ‘movie’ on her Earth device was intended to look ominous. To scare or sadden, when in reality, I would have welcomed what that being had seen; or didn’t see.

She tried explaining that the rain and electrical storm illuminating the darkness as the soldier walked amongst his dead friends was intended to be dramatic and saddening.

But that is perhaps from a species that equates rain and darkness with negative feelings.

I would have welcomed the rain. Instead, I remember lifting my foot from the ground of my planet as blood and the dried flesh of my species clung to my footwear in areas the blasts were not as severe.

There was no rain to wash their essence away. No rain to quench the fires that consumed their bodies, buildings, and the land. No rain to soothe the agony that they felt, that I felt when I saw their remnants.

The darkness that supposedly signified the soldiers’ grief would have saved a part of me that will always be altered.

Because it was not dark when I saw the desolation. Their savage eradication was not hidden by the night, and I was not given only glimpses through the storm.

I will not use my bioware to erase the memory of looking above at the clear sky; the sun bright and smoke hardly noticeable even as scattered fires rage. The light of our sun illuminated the fractured bones that should that were scattered amongst the rocks. I had never seen such a thing.

The memory will forever be burned into every aspect of my being as every piece of my species’ burnt flesh fell through my fingers that day.

“How did this happen? Their bioware should have saved them,” I had said as the rage bludgeoned my body and mind. I had never been one to utter what should have been common sense statements, but there was nothing common, and there was no sense to be found.

Looking at Gvo, she looked at the same scene of burnt land and incinerated bodies before looking at me. “I won’t shame you by trying to comfort you, Roskier. Your planet is destroyed,” she looked down at a fraction of a younglings body I knelt beside, “and you are now one of an almost extinct species.” Her voice held pain as she looked at me, her usual remorseless humor gone as the bluntness I’d always welcomed remained. I was not angry with her for speaking the harsh truth.

Standing, we walked together, searching for answers, when we realized there were very few survivors to be found, and those found were beyond saving. Mola was amongst us, and she tried.

“Where is your sister’s dwelling?” Gvo asked. My eyes found hers as I cast them in the direction we needed to be. The direction I had been moving in since landing.

It was my sister who was able to send me a fractured message, the only warning that I was aware of. I wasn’t certain that she had been home when she sent it or how she could when no one else did.

The vessel Ardaxur was in command of, and that I was on, came here quickly. Other vessels were not far behind, all of them sending as many as possible to the surface.

During the journey, I could only think about saving as many as possible. To find and save my sister. To fight whoever had attacked. I had not prepared myself to avenge my species, and I was uncertain that if I did find my sister that I would recognize her. The disgusting thoughts that I had possibly already stepped on her ashes would not leave me as we all moved as respectfully as we could to avoid the scattered and contorted remains.

There was minimal speaking, the silence of my surroundings unexpected. I had been prepared to be assaulted with noises.

The smell of burned flesh and knowing that before I affixed my mask, I had inhaled the remnants of ashes that one should never inhale overwhelmed me.

Everything was too much. Too quiet, the scent too powerful, the sensation of holding dead bodies, and the too clear sky. I had never lost control. The feeling was foreign to me.

Finally, as we moved past the waste and debris of what was once a large city, I could identify where my sister’s dwelling should have been. I stared, telling myself that after what I had just seen that I should have been prepared.

I did not know that I was capable of such despair as a noise I had never made came from within me. Agonized and lost, I stared at a body that was no longer whole but not completely destroyed. It was covered with the body of a male from Coror, who was whole and uninjured.

It was the first body that hadn’t been destroyed, which meant he was part of whoever did this.

“Get him off!” I exploded as I reached and pulled, throwing his body behind me. Barely hearing the concussion as the body landed. I would not take my eyes off of my sister as I dropped before her. Half of her body remained more intact, allowing me to see it was indeed her. I wanted to only look at that side. But I refused to be weak after the pain that she and everyone else endured.

I looked at the arm that was missing, the tissue dry and charred.

Ripping my hand coverings and headgear off, I hesitated before pressing a hand to her only arm as Gvo gave orders. I heard little of what she said and cared not as my focus narrowed. The warmth of her skin and the stillness of her body as it lay partly charred against an entirely burnt landscape destroyed parts of me that I didn’t realize could be. Because my species’ skin is often cooler, our bodies regulate temperature to survive such heat. It is in death that our bodies warm from the sun.

Tightening my grip on her too-warm arm, I leaned down and pressed my face against her undamaged shoulder, silent in my sorrow and anger. I exhaled the air from my lungs, realizing too late that my forced exhale stirred my sister’s ashes. My body seized in a coughing fit as I pushed myself away, and I did everything I could to expel them from my burning lungs.

I have never been certain of how long I kneeled there, coughing fits melding to screams as I agonized at what had happened. The sound, not stopped by anything, carried in the barrenness that my planet became that day. Gvo, leading when I could not, brought a small shipping container. My sister may have died there, but I had no intention of leaving her body.

Not allowing anyone else to touch her, I placed as much as I could, knowing that sending her into the sun would be her preference.

It was not an error that caused my species’ bioware to fail, we found out after extensive investigation and interrogation. It was several factors, with malice at the core. Corruption in our planet’s leaders and trust that no species should ever have in those that seek this power, with their carefully scripted words, were also key pieces. With this knowledge, we destroyed every planet’s capability to make its own bioware, ensuring we always have absolute control.

The criticism was harsh, but we left no choice and heard none of it. Their opinion did not matter. There was fear that this would make us too powerful, and they were not wrong. But this was a power that we had the capability to take, and eventually, the fear and anger toward us lessened. We did not abuse this as my planet did against its own, and we would not allow it to happen ever again.

I do not routinely dwell on how I have changed. There is no undoing what is now permanent and forgiveness is a weakness that I have never been accused of, a flaw for those that are too tired and wish to move on.

None of us gave forgiveness to those begging during the process of investigation, and when I became consumed with finding answers, some of which never came, Virtorn and Ardaxur offered absolute support. My gratitude, though difficult to express, has never faltered towards them, as well as Mola and Gvo.