Chapter Ch 1- Exile

-~Xandisian series~

Book 1: Last to fall Book 2: (prequel) symbiotic Book 3: ???(prequel-prequel) (to be determined)

Book 4: ??? (sequel to LTF) (to be determined)

Spin off story 1: First to Rise (not connected to other stories) (STANDALONE)

(my work in progress books always start off unedited so please be patient and considerate thank you!)

-???-

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

My heart was pounding in my chest and my lungs were burning as I sprinted through the Red District, desperate to get as far away as I could from danger. Everything passed by me in a blur of neon lights, shouting pedestrians and vendors blocking up the sidewalks, all unaware of what had just happened. Turning into an alley, I slowed to a stop, leaning against a nearby wall for support. I bent over, my hands clenching my knees as I struggled to catch my breath.

It felt like I’d been running for ages as I sucked in deep gulps of air, my muscles aching as I attempted to get myself under control.

Behind me, bright neon signs flashed from the buildings across the street, providing some light to the dark alleyway. My ponytail was falling apart all around my face, individual strands sticking to my damp forehead, and my skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Leaning back against the brick wall, I looked up at the night sky. Well… it wasn’t really a sky, more or less just the wiring, pipes and metal plating of the Red District’s dome. This area couldn’t afford something fancy, like hologram reflectors, that would mimic the night sky on Earth.

Just like how I couldn’t afford to get caught right now.

Looking down at my now stained pants, I lifted my bloodied hands and trembled at the sight.

…this wasn’t my fault!

Tears started to burn my eyes but I fought them back as I took a shuddering breath, determined to suppress my frantic emotions.

Pulling off my coat, I tried to wipe off as much of the blood on my hands as I could before throwing the old torn jacket into a nearby dumpster, getting rid of as much evidence as possible, though it was pointless. I stared at the metal container, wishing it would just catch on fire and burn away any evidence of my transgressions. Wishing that I could just go home and pretend none of this had ever happened.

If that damned stalker, Maxwell, had never touched me, we never would have gotten into that fight, I never would have pushed him away and he never would have fallen down that flight of stairs and cracked his skull wide open. I never would have been seen sitting by his dead, mangled body with his blood on my hands when the authorities had spotted me.

My lip trembled as I remembered the sickening thud Maxwell’s head had made as it connected with the stone staircase. I shouldn’t have fled the scene, but blind panic and fear had kicked my instincts into overdrive. Now I was on the run, painting myself as a criminal. Not that being innocent mattered in this shithole.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my hair and yelled, “Fuckkk!”

There were cameras everywhere and nowhere to hide. Why did I ever think that joining the colonization mission was a good idea? I should have just stayed on Earth, in my tiny shack in the slums.

Instead of staying where I belonged, now I was trapped on Krosa, an orbital habitat, and running for my life. If the guards caught me, I was done for. Based on the way they’d pulled out their weapons when they’d caught me hovering over Maxwell’s dead body, they were already set on the idea that I was a killer, just from the little they’d witnessed. And once they reviewed all of the evidence, I knew how damning it would look for me.

It wasn’t uncommon for crimes such as murder, theft, or assault to occur in the Red District, Krosa’s own version of the slums, so in most cases seeing someone standing next to a dead body was all the reason they needed to assume you were guilty. What was even worse, there was surveillance footage of us fighting before he fell. No one would care that he put his hands on me first, or that I was defending myself, only that I was responsible for his death.

Even if I got a trial, which I doubted, they’d still mark me as a killer just so they could get rid of another unnecessary body.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up as I slumped against the metal wall behind me, stuck between wanting to collapse into the fetal position in a disgusting alley or roar my fury at the entire galaxy. I wiped angrily at the tears in my eyes, refusing to let them fall.

A subtle, familiar tone caught my attention from across the street as a news hologram began playing. Hesitantly, I took a few steps forward until I was back at the entrance of the alley, eyes riveted to the hologram stretching across the side of a building, displaying a severe looking man reading from a teleprompter.

′

Abolish the penal colony? I watched the news broadcast intently, mind reeling. Could they really do that? Numerous people continued walking through the street, hardly paying attention to the hologram, or me, as they passed by.

I paled as the man on the hologram disappeared, replaced by a picture of a familiar profile of a young woman. I couldn’t even focus on the name given or the physical description being spewed from the hologram and echoing down the street, too shocked at the picture staring back at me…

picture…

Even though I’d suspected this very thing, I was still baffled at being declared a criminal, indignation and disbelief clawing at my insides. All I’d done was protect myself! I didn’t mean to kill him, I just wanted him to stop touching me! How was I supposed to know he’d lose his balance and topple down the stairs?

Grabbing at my hair in frustration, I stared at the ground, feeling dizzy as my world started to spin.

“Hey! There she is!”

Snapping out of my momentary stupor, I looked over to see three Krosa guards dressed in white military attire, running down the street toward me.

Whipping around in the other direction, I started pushing past people, frantic to get the hell out of there. I broke into a run as soon as I could get enough space, intent on putting as much distance between me and those guards as possible.

The thought pounded in my ears as I ran headlong through the crowd, my heart in my throat. Nearing the end of the street, I rounded the corner and came face to face with a different guard aiming a stun gun right at me. I backpedaled, but it was too late. The guards chasing me had already caught up. Rough hands slammed into my back, shoving me forward and effectively thwarting my escape.

Within seconds I went from running for my life to falling to the cold, hard ground, my palms scraping painfully against the concrete as I caught myself before my face connected.

Guards pinned my arms above my head, cuffing me before yanking me back to my feet. I didn’t resist, defeat taking away any hope I had of escaping.

I was silent as they dragged me away, shock taking over as I just…shut down.

Everything happened in a blur after that. It felt like only seconds ticked by but it must have been hours. Hell, maybe even a few days passed. I barely recalled being taken to jail a few blocks away and tossed into a holding cell. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there huddled up in the corner on the floor, hugging my knees.

At some point two guards came in and took me to a nearly empty courtroom to stand trial, if it could even be called that. There wasn’t even a judge to dictate my sentence or a jury of my peers, just one of the several security officials who presided over the Red District. He was seated in a raised wooden bench toward the back of the room, and as the guards placed me in front of him, I was forced to lift my head, staring up at him as if he were some kind of god demanding my respect.

“I’m sure you’re well aware of what is going to happen here today. You’ll either die by the hand of the Krosa executioners or on the penal colony, Xanadis. Unless you do something for me.” I eyed the official warily as he gave me a half-assed smile before continuing, thinking he had me right where he wanted me. “You see, I have a little problem that needs to be eradicated. Someone is stirring the pot in Krosa’s political world and sticking their nose where it frankly doesn’t belong. I need them taken out. So, you’ll get rid of them for me and I’ll make all of this just disappear. You’ll be free of any and all charges and be able to go back to your little home in the Red District like nothing ever happened.”

I narrowed my eyes at the official, upper lip curling in open disgust.

Was he seriously trying to use me to get rid of his enemies and gain more political power? If I said no, then he’d probably offer this to the next ‘criminal’ in my exact situation, hoping fear of execution would force them to accept.

But what if I did agree to help him? I doubted my charges would actually disappear. Instead, someone else would be framed for Maxwell’s murder and I’d go back to the slums knowing another person was dead because of me.

I grit my teeth, glaring at the official as he watched me mockingly, thinking I’d jump at the chance to do his bidding.

“Go to hell.”

The guards didn’t move an inch, but the official’s smile died on his smarmy face as he glared right back at me.

“Exile it is,” he snapped. “Kora Wrathia, you’ve been found guilty of the murder of Sir Maxwell Crone. You will hereby be sent to the penal colony Xanadis to perish or live out the rest of your lifecycle.”

Of course the bastard wasn’t even going to give me a choice between execution or exile. A bullet to the brain was too fast. Too easy. Being dropped from a pod onto a hostile planet would be a much worse fate.

He motioned to the guards behind me. “Take her away.”

The soldiers grabbed my shoulder roughly, dragging me away from the prick as I flipped him off with the middle finger, hoping he burned in Hell. It was too bad I wouldn’t be able to see it happen, but revenge wasn’t something I needed to worry about; people like that always fucked themselves over eventually.

I didn’t cry, didn’t scream profanities as I was hauled away. I didn’t even beg for a chance to explain myself as the guards led me to another area of the building used for dispatching problems. There was no point in resisting what would come next. Krosa’s officials were corrupt to the core, and denying one’s offer would have signed my death warrant if I wasn’t already doomed.

Once we made it to the air hangar, I was uncuffed, stripped down and forced to put on a thick bodysuit that fit me like a glove and kept out the chill. Afterward, they cuffed my hands in front of me again and took me toward a space shuttle, escorting me up a ramp and inside.

Plopping down into a seat, I barely acknowledged the other guards piloting the ship, or the one that strapped me into my seat, just ready for this to be over. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the pod that would drop me over the penal colony, but I ignored it, refusing to give it a moment of my attention until I had to. I waited in silence for what felt like a lifetime before the shuttle took off, my body vibrating from the engines as we rocketed high into the sky, heading straight for Xanadis.

Looking down at my cuffed wrists, I couldn’t help but to think back on my life on Earth and my time on Krosa. I’d spent my days living in the slums in either place, struggling to get by like a stray cat living on the streets. Always alone and miserable, even when I came here hoping for a better future.

And now all of that was gone, and I honestly didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Depressed? I probably should have been both. Instead, I just felt furious at this entire situation, and anxious for what would happen next.

The guards were waiting for the alert signaling the pod was at an optimal drop spot, and sure enough, a shrill beep sounded from the speaker above the control panel in the cockpit.

My eyes shot up from my cuffs, locking on one guard as he accessed a keypad on the wall, typing in a long string of numbers. A narrow door on the pod slid open, revealing a tiny, cramped space for one person.

“Get in.” The guard nearest me grabbed my arm and ripped me from my seat and to my feet, jabbing me in the back with his hand when I didn’t move. I stumbled forward before glaring at him from over my shoulder, silently wishing fall down a damned flight of stairs.

Returning my attention to the pod’s entrance, I steeled my resolve, determined to not freak out or show weakness in front of any of these people. Stepping inside, I laid back inside the pod, tensing when the guard reached inside and grabbed my hands.

He was rough, but I didn’t mind since he removed my cuffs, a small kindness considering where I was going. He stepped back and the door slid shut, leaving me alone in complete darkness. Sighing, I closed my eyes and waited for my impending fall, my fury taking a backseat to the anxiety that had just hit me full force.

It was always jarring entering an atmosphere, and I’d never done it in such a dinky pod before, or in anything that wasn’t a sturdy ship. What was even worse, I wasn’t sure what awaited me down below. But one thing I did know? If my executioners in the Red District thought I was just going to lay down and kick the bucket, then those fuckers didn’t know who they were dealing with.

If I was destined to die on an alien planet full of monsters, then so be it, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.