July 4th, 2486 - Planet Bungirba, Raven’s Crater - the Ruins of Amami’s House

Amami held her children close. She couldn’t completely make out the identity of Lop’s saviour, beneath his torn black rain coat. She guessed by his golden hair that he was from one of the scattered tribes in the Igirah Mountains to the north. His silhouette was bizarre; misshapen, as though missing a significant portion of its mass, and when he turned to check on her, she immediately realised why. She recoiled in spite of herself, felt a wave of discontent and disgust wash over her. The heavily bearded face of Angora the Traitor drew back, hardening somewhat, where it had been soft and caring only a moment ago. Amami felt a warm flush of embarrassment well up from within. She could not bring herself to thank the man, no matter how much she owed him, and she was glad that she wouldn’t have to; Angora was already leaving her alone, crossing the cracked, dusty floor to meet the two off-worlders in her living room.

*

‘You alright?’ Angora asked.

Ichiro hissed painfully, staggering slightly, but managed to grin at Angora nonetheless. Abiona gave a thumbs up, doubling over and letting out a deep sigh.

‘Fine, thanks to you’, Ichiro said. ‘What the hell was that anyway?’

‘No idea … it didn’t feel like flesh when I kicked it, or anything that I’ve fought before.’

‘…but, you beat it?’ Abiona asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

‘For now, at least’, Angora grunted in response.

Footsteps crunched in the rubble, and everyone turned to look.

‘Oh great … more Humans’, Amami said with a groan.

Ichiro recognised Akira Choganta immediately. Akira lowered his blaster and stared, open-mouthed at Abiona, then at Ichiro. Olivia brought up the rear, and kept her blaster held firmly at her hip, brow furrowed and pouting seriously. Ichiro grinned; his ticket back to The Phoenix had appeared in an unexpected manner, but he was happy to finally have it regardless. His comfortable bed beckoned to him.

Massaging his brow, Akira said, ‘I don’t know what happened here, and I don’t want to—your highness, we’d better get going, before the army sweeps through … we’re not exactly here in an official capacity. Ship’s at the Spaceport, come on.’

‘What about my house?!’ Amami asked.

‘Tough luck’, Akira grunted nonchalantly.

‘That’s ridiculous—considering what they’ve been through—’ before Abiona could finish, Akira turned on his heel and stared her down.

‘—I’m guessing none of this would have happened if you weren’t involved in the first place, Princess’, he growled.

She turned to Ichiro for support, perhaps hoping that he would challenge his superior’s statement, or try to offer a solution. He did not, and merely averted his gaze when her wide, worried eyes reached him. The adventure truly was over, and it was time to return to reality.

*

They ascended the hill almost in single file. Akira had insisted that Angora come with them; he had seen some of the hermit’s ferocious display against the robed woman, and wasn’t willing to let the golden-haired Bungirban out of his sight just yet. He walked in front of the curmudgeonly Head of Security. Akira and Olivia sandwiched Abiona from the front and the back respectfully, ensuring that any escape attempt would probably be fruitless. This left Ichiro behind Olivia, soaking in the awkward silence that had descended between them. They trudged through a housing estate, bathed in darkness, the lights out in seemingly every window.

‘With explosives and blaster weapons fire below … will they blame what happened tonight on the rebellion?’ Olivia asked, tossing the question out into the silent void for anyone to answer.

Surprisingly, Akira chuckled, and Ichiro knew exactly why. It was all too obvious who the Humans of Bungirba would blame for the night’s disturbance. He saw Angora hang his head, hiding his face beneath unkempt golden locks of hair. A distant murmur grew in intensity in the distance, and the moment they exited the estate a wall of sound hit the off-worlders; the neighbourhood was out in force, gathered in the historic town centre and attempting to scream the mayor’s office down. A monument rose high from within the sea of angry Human protestors, depicting a solider standing dominant over a defenceless civilian, and Ichiro saw Olivia turn her head away in disgust at the sight of it. The off-worlders had no choice but to force their way through the crowd.

‘Keep those slippery mitts close to the Princess, peasant, don’t let her take her chances in this mob’, Akira yelled back mockingly at Ichiro.

Wandering through the amorphous blob of screaming protesters, Ichiro couldn’t help but make out what they were saying, picking up little snippets of chants and angry hollers through the din.

‘—It’s those damned natives!’ they cried.

‘—Shouldn’t have let any live after the war!’ they argued.

‘—All killers, the whole lot of them!’ they insisted.

‘—How long until they come for us?!’ they asked.

Ichiro felt his blood run cold. They bore witness to the birth of a pogrom. Ichiro knew that a Human had started the destruction in the lower districts, but these people wouldn’t want to hear it. They had already chosen their enemy. It would take nothing short of a miracle to convince them otherwise. Had Ichiro not looked down just then, he might have missed the princess remove the blaster from Akira’s belt. Olivia was fast, but not fast enough. Abiona disappeared into the sea of Humans. Ichiro felt his heart begin to race. He lunged after her, into the crowd, all the wounds he had sustained during the fall through Amami’s floorboards flaring up at once. The Princess was nimble, and she appeared, suddenly above the crowd, straddling the monument, perched atop the soldier’s shoulders. She raised the blaster.

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM.

The crowd went wild, scattering, as bolts of searing red light split the sky. As the cacophony lessened and the Humans of Bungirba ran for cover, Abiona opened her mouth.

‘Death to all Humans! Death to all Bungirban natives! Death to all Imperial dogs and sympathisers! Long live the rebellion!’

Her voice carried far, filling the town centre and echoing, the words becoming inescapable and unquestionable.

‘Very clever, small one’, Angora murmured, and Ichiro felt a jolt of excitement run through him at the words.

‘Clever little idiot’, he gasped, echoing Angora’s sentiment.

When Ichiro looked at the Bungirban, he saw, even beneath the heavy beard of dishevelled gold, that he was smiling. He loathed to admit that he was smiling to. Olivia stood in stunned silence, her mouth agape and her eyes watering. Akira grabbed hold of Abiona’s baggy shirt and ripped her down from the monument, just as a spray of bullets tore the marble soldiers head into chalk-like pieces. Soldiers closed in from the direction of the mayor’s domed office.

‘The Spaceport, the Spaceport—get to the Spaceport now!’ Akira roared, sprinting towards the group and dragging the princess roughly by the arm behind him.

They fled, legs pumping hard enough to make an athlete cry, ducking in and out of alleyways, up from the town centre, along neatly laid out pathways that wound through the heavily gentrified urban environment, past cars of black and silver; and all the while, the princess laughed the most genuine laugh that Ichiro had ever heard pass Human lips.