Empire: Chapter 1

It smashed through her bedroom wall.

Deora tried to shield herself from the flying chunks of brick and plaster, but fell as they rushed towards her. Quickly, she checked her self over for bruises or scratches, and noticed small patches of blood on her arms. Her nose tickled, and her eyes hurt; she wiped the plaster and brick-dust from her face and shook her head, trying to clear her vision.

When it cleared, she backed away, trying to find something to haul herself up with.

The ovoid that had crashed through her wall stood in the middle of her room, completely unscathed. Eyes wide, she stared at it in a mix of horror and fascination. Xaosian? She was almost certain she was right; she'd studied Xaosian culture for her dissertation, including their technology. That was more than a decade ago, others could've got their tech.

She grabbed a shelf and tried to pull herself up, but the shelf buckled and she fell again. The windowsill took her weight and she went to stand near the door, ready to bolt when she found out what the thing was.

A pneumatic hiss.

The ovoid opened; eight large humanoids stepped out. Noticing the black, blade-like plates making up their armour, the red twin parabola insignia on their breastplates, the claws and the serpentine faces, she knew her suspicions were right. All eight Xaosians held guns. Big guns. She didn't know what type, and she didn't care either; they could kill her either way. She ducked back behind the doorframe, hoping they hadn't seen her yet. They were speaking to one another, not in the Common tongue, but in a completely different language. At first, she thought it was the Xaosians' native Xarici, but that was much more sibilant than what they were saying now. She didn't know the language, so there was no point sticking around.

She ran, tripping over her feet as she did so, barely keeping upright. The hallway was narrow enough to give her something to cling on to if she did fall, and she used the walls well enough to keep her standing.

Gunshot.

She screamed.

She had tried to resist, she really had; she'd managed when they burst through her wall. Now, she may as well have lit a beacon. She rounded a corner, into the kitchen. Heavy footfalls followed. Nearly slipping on the cold kitchen tiles, she was just able to right herself until she made it to the dining room. Something shattered in the kitchen after another gunshot. Probably just those shit plates. Grabbing her keys from the table, she ran out of the dining room and towards her front door.

Her hands were shaking, and she couldn't get the key in the lock. She looked behind her, seeing their shadows enter the room. Grabbing the key with both hands, she guided it to lock and wrenched it open. A bullet slammed into as it opened, narrowly missing her head. She bit back the scream this time, and stared at the bullet-hole in shock.

She continued to run, slamming the door closed behind her; it would slow them down for all of two seconds, she was sure. The dark corridors of her apartment skyscraper gave her both an advantage and a disadvantage; they couldn't see her, but she couldn't see them. There were four corridors on this first floor, each leading out from the elevator, to a single apartment. She paused briefly; if she woke them, they could get out and possibly be safe from the eight invaders. If she didn't, they could be murdered, or the Xaosians might pass them by altogether. If they died because I left them...She took a deep breath, weighing up her choices. But if they died because I took them with me, would I feel more or less guilty? Less, she'd thought at first. However, then she'd have had a direct role in their deaths. If I do nothing, could I live with myself? She pressed the “call” button.

Large, shadowy things moved in the darkness, coming towards her, guns raised.

Too late now.

The elevator doors opened, the bulb inside lighting up the corridors. She ran inside, hugging the wall so they couldn't shoot her, and hammered the “down” button. The doors shut as a barrage of bullets smashed against the back of the elevator. She breathed a sigh of relief; even a brief reprieve from fleeing was better than none. Doubled over, she tried to catch her breath, but her heart was pounding too fast for her to get her breathing back to normal. Her hands couldn't stop shaking, and her cuts on her arm were bleeding even more now, tracing rivers on her skin. The cuts stung slightly, like papercuts, but she didn't care about that right now.

Thud.

The top of the elevator buckled as one of Xaosians leapt down the elevator shaft. The doors opened. She ran, turning to look back at the elevator. A panel from the top was thrown out of the elevator, clattering to the floor. The Xaosian raised its weapon and shot at her three times. They all missed, shattering the glass in the doors behind her. She ran to the doors, jumping through the gap left behind by the broken windows.

What was outside was considerably worse than the eight Xaosians.

Hordes of Xaosian troops stormed the streets, piling off of huge Xaosian Titan-Class ships, indiscriminately slaughtering Raanians. The unmistakable roars of small Reapers filled the air, but screams and cries for help almost drowned them out. Raanian Stingers pursued them, but the Reapers seemed to be more than a match for them. Bombing runs had turned the streets into twisting craters, sparks flying from the ground, mixing with the water from the sewage system.

Some Raanians released that running was futile, and tried to escape in their Autos. It could have succeeded had it not been for the Xaosian tanks; large as a house, these moved on giant barrels rather than caterpillar treads, enabling it to crush everything in its path. More of the ovoid pods were fired out of the airborne Titans, smashing into the skyscrapers. Some began to crumble as multiple pods hit them, tearing the structures apart.

The Xaosian was still following her. She considered running more, but it would only follow her until it got a clean shot. She rounded a corner, running a little bit further, before doubling back and waiting at the corner.

The Xaosian rounded the corner, and she pounced on it, taking it by surprise. It dropped the gun as she twisted its arm. She heard it grunt, before smashing an armoured fist into her temple, knocking her down. Her head exploded into a world of pain, and she could feel a warmth growing on the side of her head: blood; skin had been torn away by the jagged knuckles on its gauntlets.

She rolled out of the way of a kick, and dived for the abandoned gun. It was heavier than she'd expected; she'd never held one before. Her first shot missed, even at this close range. The Xaosian kicked her in the ribs, and she heard something crack, before breathing became sharp and painful. The second shot hit the Xaosian in the chest, clipping the armour plating from below, and shearing it straight off. It stumbled back, and she jumped to her feet, and shot it twice more in the gap left by the sheared off armour. The Xaosian gasped; a death rattle, before it went down, chest covered in blood.

She stepped away from the corpse, dropping the gun. Hands shook, and knees threatened to buckle. She touched her face, and wiped her blood from her cheek. Breathing deeply to try and calm herself, she only felt pain from her cracked ribs, which were probably piercing a lung now. She coughed, and tasted copper. Her head span, the world span, and the ground threatened to come up to meet her. No! I can't die now!

From her skyscraper, she heard gunfire and screams. She sank to her knees, arms hanging limp at her side. She just stared straight ahead, mouth hanging open. I could have saved them. Self-hate grew inside her, eclipsing her hatred for the Xaosians that killed them. I could have helped them. I should have helped them! A part of her knew that if she did, they all still would have been killed. I could have tried. Her vision blurred again, and her breathing hurt even more with every breath. But she knew that, if she died, then there deaths were for nothing; she sacrificed them for herself. Selfish bitch.

Groaning.

She turned around to see the Xaosian she'd shot stand up. She backed away on her knees, unable to muster the energy to stand. Her breathing hurt, her vision clouded red, and the Xaosian loomed over her, gun clutched in hand.

“I...shot,” she coughed, throwing blood over the Xaosian's legs, “shot...you. You should be dead.”

The Xaosians voice was strangely emotionless and monotonous. “I was. You killed me. But you didn't do it right.”

Deora had no idea what was happening, but she knew this was the end; the last few seconds were full of pain, confusion and regret. A lone tear mixed with the blood on her face.

A bullet went through her skull.

Death was almost a relief.