"Some people say that war is a devastating thing."
A black scar covers the surface of an otherwise green planet.
"That it tears people apart."
A mother and her child sit in the rubble of a destroyed building. They blink and try to shake the dirt from their faces.
"They're right."
The wind whistles as it blows through an abandoned town. Not a soul is to be seen.
"I've seen cities tumble."
A building topples to the ground, taking many other buildings with it
"I've seen people die."
Cries are heard as a furious battle rages on.
"I've seen my own brothers succumb to their darkest instincts."
A spiky-haired boy stands with his hand raised, his face expressionless. He is choking the helpless man in front of him.
"I have struggled to retain my humanity in a fallen galaxy."
A brunette girl sits in the bathroom, her hands pressed to her face. Tears leak out from between her fingers and her shoulders are shaking.
"In a world where I am pressured to do the unthinkable."
A gun is placed into the hands of a reluctant young girl.
"By those I love."
Two boys stand side-by-side, observing the stars in front of them from the cockpit of their ship.
"But it is my duty to fight."
Several young teens in uniforms salute an unseen leader.
"I have sworn to protect the galaxy."
The teens prepare for battle, observing their enemies on the opposite side of the barren field in front of them.
"No one said this was going to be easy."
The girl kneels in front of a grave. Tears splash onto the tombstone as she places a flower on it.
"But no one has a choice."
The brunette girl is seen again from behind. She stands on a cliff, overlooking a demolished town as the sun sets behind it.
"I am Bree Davenport."
The girl is seen from the side. Her face is hard and three red lines scar her cheek. The wind blows through her hair as she stares resolutely at the sight before her.
"And I am war torn."
Starring:
Chase Davenport
"You're not getting any special treatment just because you're related to me. Here, I am your commander, not your brother, and you will treat me as such."
Adam Davenport
"At first I thought it would be fun. But this isn't fun. Losing you . . . that's not fun."
Donald Davenport
"We're in the middle of a war, Bree. I don't have time for this!"
Douglas Davenport
"I don't want this any more than you do, but I don't have a choice!"
Marcus Davenport
"You will never understand what's going on here. We're all just pawns in his game."
Victor Krane
"You, my dear, are the only thing standing between me and ruling the galaxy. You and your brothers will fall."
Leo Dooley
"You can't give up hope now! You're stronger than this. Don't break . . . not like your brothers did."
And Bree Davenport
"I have hoped and prayed that this is all a dream. I hate it. I absolutely hate this."
Two girls speed through a city on an out-of-control speederbike.
Gunshots echo through the town and someone screams in pain.
A dark-haired boy and his date stand on the edge of the dance floor, observing the well-dressed dancers with sharp eyes.
Thousands of teenagers look up, their eyes glowing bright green.
A brother and sister battle with each other until the boy throws her mercilessly to the floor.
A bald man raises his arms, screaming as power courses through him.
An explosion sends a boy and a girl flying in opposite directions.
In a grim hospital room, a girl wakes up with a gasp.
War Torn
Coming September 21st, 2015
Trailer soundtrack: "Ash" by Secession Studios.
After one year of planning, scheming, crying, watching, waiting, plotting, brainstorming, ranting, yelling, freaking out, talking, writing, reading, experimenting, sighing, and promoting, it's here! It's finally here! Welcome to War Torn, everyone! I still can't believe it. It's here! So exciting! Man, I hope this lives up to your expectations.
"Why today, daphrose? Why is this going up now?" Glad you asked, dear readers. It just so happens that today is my birthday. :3 So I figured, what better day to post my new favorite story on? Does that work for all of you? A little present to myself, and to you guys too. ;3
Fun disclaimer-y stuff here: War Torn is rated T for war, battles, blood, character death, torture, imprisonment, massacres, explosions, one or two (literally that many) mildly harsh words, and all that fun stuff. It's a war story. I don't even see why I would need to warn you.
It is also important to note that this story is a huge AU. First of all, it's set in space. (A distant galaxy; not our future.) Quite a few other things are different, but I'm sure you'll pick up on them as time goes on. For example, in this story, Adam, Bree, and Chase are not the only bionics, nor are they even the first. You'll see what else is different as you read.
I'll be doing soundtracks for this story, so feel free to listen to the songs I suggest while you read. I listened to them while writing, after all! They come highly recommended, even if you don't want to listen while reading. Links will be posted on my profile so you can find them easily.
Why am I still holding you up? It's time to get to the gigantic story I've been promising you all for a year now. I do not own Lab Rats, but I do own this story, and please don't steal it, because I worked way too hard on it for someone else to take credit. I also own any OCs, planets, tech, and anything else that you don't recognize. I sincerely hope you enjoy!
Prologue soundtrack: "Ready Aim Fire" by Imagine Dragons
* * * Prologue * * *
The sky was lit up like a New Year's Day tree. Another explosion rocked one of the small ships flying through the atmosphere. The two men inside gripped the handholds on the ceiling and gritted their teeth. "Ever been in a firefight, General?" the younger of the two said.
The older man—though not older by much—laughed. "Do you think I'd be a general if I hadn't?" He looked the other man square in the eye. "Have you, Lieutenant?"
"A few times," he mumbled, glancing out the porthole. "And I know for a fact that it's not supposed to look like that." He looked up again. "General Davenport . . . we're losing, aren't we?"
General Davenport stood stone-faced. Inside him a hundred emotions reeled, but he couldn't let the teen in front of him know that. "It's safe to say that our commander-in-chief better have a pretty good plan. That's where I'm headed."
"Well, if anyone could talk to him, you can." The lieutenant dragged his boot across the ground and swallowed. "You know, you seem awfully young to be in such a high position."
General Davenport laughed again. "So do you."
"But you're second-in-command of an army of millions, and you're . . . what?"
"Twenty-four. How about you? Fourteen?"
"Eighteen."
"Close enough. Boy, I might be young, but I've seen enough."
"Yeah, I can tell by that look in your eye. You're no stranger to war, are you, sir?"
"Well, I've only been at this for four years, but I've been there from the beginning." He hung his head and mumbled, "It's all my fault anyway."
"But you love it, don't you?"
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. It's kinda funny to watch them all scramble around like ants, trying to be the army that gets out on top." He smirked.
General Davenport turned his attention out the porthole. Below on the surface of the planet, he could see the two armies clashing in a violent display. The only way to tell them apart was the black uniforms of one verses the green of the other—that was when you could find those colors amidst the orange . . . and red. Something stirred in the general as he realized that the troops under his command fought on the battlefield only to die. Usually he felt nothing when he saw them slaughtered, but something about this fight was different. He could feel the change in the air.
"You seem distracted, sir," the lieutenant said.
"I am, to be honest. I lost something very important this week."
"Do you mind my asking what it is?"
General Davenport sighed. He wasn't one to get sappy, but the burden on his chest was getting too heavy to carry on his own. "My children, Lieutenant," he whispered.
For a few seconds it was silent, until the boy said, "You had kids?"
"Three amazing children. But my brother snatched them away. They were incredibly special."
The lieutenant understood. "Do you plan to get them back?"
General Davenport snorted. "What do you think? Of course I am. The only thoughts in my head are ones of revenge."
"Your brother's an Ally—an enemy . . . ain't he, sir?"
"Yes, he is."
"Then you've got plenty of time for revenge."
Another blast shook the ship, and the two young men fell into the wall. The older one wiped his brow. The heat from the fires a few miles below and the rockets flying around them began to get to him. He stripped off his coat and let it drop to the floor. Almost immediately he could feel the lieutenant's stare fixed on his arm. He laughed.
"Never seen a scar before, kid?"
"Not one that looks like that, sir."
"Well, it's fresh. Still a wound, I guess. My brother gave that to me." General Davenport glanced at the gash that stretched from his shoulder to his elbow. "That was after I found out he took my kids. To his credit, he was going to pull a gun, but opted for the knife instead."
"Must've been a pretty big knife."
"It was. He stood above me, looking ready to kill, and instead threw the weapon down with a yell. He walked away, leaving me to yank a knife out of my arm."
The lieutenant let out a low whistle. "In that case, sir, I'd dare to suggest that he isn't your brother anymore."
General Davenport laughed, but it had no mirth. "Not at all." He stared out the porthole again. "But I don't think we've been brothers for a long time."
The ship shook once more, but this time the shaking was accompanied by an odd grinding sound. The soldiers glanced at each other and rushed to the front of the ship. "What's going on, Captain?" the lieutenant asked the man in the cockpit.
"We've been hit," the captain said, flipping numerous unmarked switches. "They got the starboard engines. One more hit and we'll go down for sure."
"Can't you do something?"
"What do I look like, a mechanic? I can either fly it or fix it, so unless you want to crawl out there with a wrench, it's not getting fixed until we land, little soldier boy!"
The lieutenant leaned back, his face beet-red. General Davenport shook his head. "Lieutenant, he's not in a position above you. Are you going to let him talk to you like that?"
The lieutenant perked up. "Yeah, he's right. Captain, I am your superior, and you will address me as such!"
The captain looked shocked, but another loud explosion stopped him from replying. "There goes the engine," he mumbled. "I'd find something to hold onto, gentlemen. This beast is falling."
Already they could see the ground outside the window getting closer. "To the middle of the ship!" General Davenport said, ushering the young man back to the main hold. The force of the drop sent them flying into the wall. The general gripped his head and concentrated on his breathing, trying to drive away the sickening feeling of falling. He also tried not to think about the hard ground that got inevitably closer with every passing second.
The drop seemed to take forever and no time at all. Before either of them knew what was happening, the ship shook and jolted violently—it had collided with the ground. General Davenport fell to the floor and attempted to ignore the pain exploding in his head. He sat up, his breathing shaky. The lieutenant sat in the corner, one hand on his chest and the other on the wall.
"First crash, Lieutenant?" the general asked.
The younger man could only nod his head.
General Davenport stood up and scanned the hold of the ship. The inside had remained virtually undamaged, though the ship was on its side and some parts of the wall had twisted and bent to match the ground beneath it.
The general walked to the keypad and tried to open the side door, but the computer system was fried. Too frustrated to fix it, he whipped out one of the weapons strapped to his leg and blasted a hole in the side of the ship. "This thing ain't flying again anytime soon anyway," he mumbled. He turned back to the shuddering lieutenant and said, "We should get out before the Allies blow this thing to kingdom come. Out, boy."
The two of them emerged into broad daylight, the captain just behind them. They had crashed in a field of dry grass, not too far from the town where all the fighting was taking place. The explosions that had looked so bright and large from the air looked even more so on the ground. It felt like an earthquake, and the screams and gunshots were deafening.
"I know where to go from here," General Davenport said, surveying their location. "Our commander-in-chief's building is just on the edge of town. I should be able to get there without any trouble."
"I'll escort you, sir," the lieutenant said.
"I'll stay here," the captain mumbled. "I'm an airman, not a soldier. I'm finding the closest base and getting out of here!" With that, the captain ran off, towards an edge of the field that looked like something of an infirmary for their army.
"Lieutenant, I don't need an escort," the general said. "You're more needed in their fight." He stuck out his chin towards the town where the two armies charged each other. "Your men need you."
The younger man nodded. "I understand. I hope you and the, uh, big guy can come up with a good plan. Some of those people out there . . . sir, they're my friends."
"Understood, Lieutenant. But you should also remember that we're in war. There's not much room for friendship here."
He hung his head. "I know, sir."
"Don't worry, kid, we'll come up with something. And hey, stop calling me 'sir' already. And don't bother with 'General Davenport' either. It's too much of a mouthful. Call me Douglas."
The lieutenant nodded. "Thank you, s—Douglas." With that, he took off towards the fray, blaster out of its holster and a dangerous look in his eye. He was a good soldier, Douglas—for he preferred to be called Douglas—observed.
Now it was time for Douglas to head back to the headquarters where he was needed. He stepped lightly across the field, hand close enough to the blaster at his side to be ready to pull it at any moment.
Douglas made it to the town without any trouble. As he got closer, the gunshots only got louder. The sickening sounds of snapping bones and the disturbing smell of burning flesh made him uneasy. No fight had ever gotten so bad for them. He was far enough from the center of the fighting, but he could tell that they had already lost—it was pointless to think otherwise.
The sound of a gun being cocked pulled him out of his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, Douglas could see a young man in a green uniform pointing a gun at his back. Douglas turned slowly to face the man, raising his hands as if in a gesture of surrender.
"Well, well, well," the man sneered. "Look what I caught: a Rev sneaking through the back alleys. And not just any Rev either." He took a step closer. "General Douglas Davenport. This is my lucky day."
Douglas shrugged. "So you caught me. Now what?"
"Now I take you back to face justice, traitor!"
Douglas laughed. "Oh, so you know about that."
"All the high ranking officers do."
"High ranking? So, tell me, how should I address you?"
"Major. I'm Major Kern Amsmith. Not that it's any of your business." Major Amsmith walked even closer so his gun was a few inches from Douglas's chest. "And if you refuse to come with me, Davenport, I'll save myself the trip and kill you where you stand."
"Well—Amsmith, was it?—I'm afraid that's not going to work."
"What are you going to do? I'll shoot you if you move."
"You can try."
The ground shook from a nearby explosion. Douglas ducked and tapped his wrist cuff to activate a force field in front of his body. The major's bullet bounced off harmlessly. Douglas dropped the field and whipped out his own weapon.
I was never a killer. No one raised me to be a killer. But . . . this is war.
The major was terribly undertrained anyway, Douglas decided. That was why it was so easy to do the deed. He stuck his smoking blaster back into its holster and took off for the building he was to meet his partner in.
That man had a family!
So did you, but did your brother care? Did the Alliance care? Why should you care?
This is war . . .
This is war . . .
The general charged into the building and stormed up the stairs. While gunshots continued to ring out down in the streets below, Douglas slammed the apartment door shut behind him, chest heaving. He straightened his hair and stood up, facing his partner.
"It's over," Victor Krane growled.
Douglas swallowed but didn't reply. Facing Krane's rage was always painful—even worse than battles and facing an Ally major.
"Isn't it?" Krane continued. He moved to the window, dark coat swirling around him dramatically.
"We're outnumbered." Douglas walked over and joined Krane. The window had a much better view of the city, and Douglas could now see that the scene below the building was truly one of a massacre. Bodies lay everywhere, enemies and allies side-by-side. What would've once made Douglas smile sadistically now only made him sick. "It's a slaughter out there."
Krane scowled and moved around the apartment with his hands behind his back. Douglas leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He tried to block out the screams coming from down below them.
"So?" Douglas asked. "What now?"
Krane lowered his head. "It is over . . . for now. Let the Alliance think they've won. For now, we retreat."
"What? You're suggesting we turn our backs and run like cowards?"
"I'm suggesting we rethink our strategy. We'll be out of their hair for a little while, but when we'll come back, we'll be stronger than ever. It's far better than surrender, wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then that's what we'll do. We'll allow them to think they've won, but this war is far from over."
Douglas took a deep breath and looked down at the rows of soldiers fighting and dying. "What about them?"
"What about them?"
"Do we just leave them there to die?"
"They're sacrifices for the greater good here. We can't take them with us."
"So you're not even going to try to save them?"
"Why would I? We can get more. In fact, from the shadows, I bet we can get millions more. What's the matter, Douglas? Don't tell me you actually care for them."
"No, I was just . . . wondering, is all."
There it was again: that stupid twang of guilt. It ate away at him slowly, and he had learned to despise it. Those insane thoughts flooded his mind and made him cringe. Thoughts like this whole war was his fault in the first place, and people were dying because of him. If only he had stayed loyal. Betrayal seemed to cost more than he had originally thought. . . .
No, he couldn't think like that. He liked what Krane was doing, even if it was a bit . . . unorthodox, to say the least. Still, Douglas had no doubt that he was on the right side of history.
Okay, maybe there's a little doubt . . .
"Douglas." Krane's voice was cold, and Douglas flinched. He hadn't even heard Krane come up behind him.
"Yes?" he said as calmly as he could, not daring to turn around.
"You're not second-guessing yourself, are you?"
"Of course not."
"Don't tell me that you're actually beginning to care. You'd better not think about betraying me. I'm not like them—the side you were once on. They were only mad; they only could be mad, and nothing more. I have the power to destroy you . . . permanently. Do not fail me, General Davenport."
"No, sir," Douglas said through clenched teeth. What did I get myself into?
The building shook and shouts came from below their feet. It was do or die time. If they didn't act now, they would be taken to jail—or worse.
"Now's the time, Douglas. Can you pull this off?"
"Look who you're talking to. We'll disappear like we never existed in the first place. The Alliance will think we're dead. Piece of cake."
"Good. Then get it ready."
Douglas obeyed, grabbing the necessary supplies from the small apartment. He glanced out the window once more and saw a ship looming in the evening sky. On its side was painted the large BB that he had learned to loathe. It hurt that they wouldn't bring down that BB today.
"Tell me you have a plan," Douglas said as he grabbed the grenade from the cabinet under the kitchen sink.
"Fall back and regrow the army. We shouldn't have been so forward in our attacks. This time, we'll take as long as we need to get things ready. Years if necessary! The Alliance can enjoy their peace for a little while, but after that we will come in stronger than ever. Patience, Douglas. They will be destroyed in time."
"And I will contribute to their downfall in any way possible."
"I'm glad to see that you are no longer loyal to them."
"I don't want to be in a place where my ideas are tossed aside or molded to fit the beliefs of everyone else involved. They took my greatest scientific achievements and destroyed them. They . . . they called me a kid!"
"The young mind is brilliant. It's sad they failed to see that."
The footsteps grew louder until they were right outside the door. Someone pounded on the wood and screamed, "By order of the Bionic Battalion, a division of the Galactic Alliance of Planets, I demand you open this door now!"
"It's open," Douglas called, a smirk on his face. "Come on, Krane. It's time to shake these goons." The two men stood closer together. Douglas held his newly crafted device behind his back, ready for the moment of detonation. "Get ready, and follow my lead. After the blast goes off, grab me and we can geoleap to the mountains. We'll have to hide out there until the Allies have left, which, with any luck, shouldn't be too long. Oh, and be sure not to geoleap until it looks like we've actually died from the blast. Pretty much not until it hurts really bad."
"This isn't actually going to kill us, is it, Davenport?"
"No, no! Probably . . ." Douglas looked up at Krane's angry face. "Look, the only thing I'm worried about is the fact that it'll mess up my hair. As long as you get us out of here at the right time, we won't die, but they'll think we're dead."
"This had better work."
The door fell to the ground and several troops swarmed the room. Douglas caught sight of one all-too-familiar face in the back. It was none other than his dear brother, his face twisted with rage and sorrow.
This is me now, Donald. Get over it.
Donald wore the same army uniform as the rest of the soldiers, despite not having the same powerful abilities as them. Various weapons were strapped to his belt; weapons that he intended to use on his brother.
"You're surrounded!" one troop yelled. "Surrender!"
Krane laughed. "Never."
Donald had pushed his way to the edge of the troops. He stood several meters away from Douglas, but they could still see one another. Locking eyes with Douglas, he mouthed, You were once my brother!
Douglas mouthed back, Emphasis on were.
Would Douglas really do this? Could he?
Yes, he could, he decided. Who knew how this decision would impact the future, but right now he was entirely sure it was the right choice. There was no going back.
"Goodbye, gentlemen," Krane said with a smirk. "It's been a pleasure."
Douglas wouldn't be so formal. He put two fingers to his head and tipped them away, saying, "So long, suckers!"
He held out the bomb and detonated it. The ensuing blast would be enough to blow all the soldiers back, compromise the structural integrity of the apartment building, and make it appear as if Krane and Douglas were actually dead. If luck was on their side, however, they would make it out at just the right time to live to fight another day.
Donald would think that Douglas was dead. He would believe that his brother had killed himself rather than surrender. To be honest, Douglas wasn't too upset at that thought. There was only one thing he wished for, so he thought about it as if he could send the message to Donald telepathically.
Take good care of the kids for me. I know you don't believe me, but I really do love them. Teach them to be heroes in a way I never could. If one day I have to fight against my own flesh and blood, so be it. At least then I would be able to see their faces again. Goodbye, Donnie. See you in our next battle, whenever and wherever it may be.
Flames engulfed the room, and Douglas screamed in pain.
So it begins.
I know a lot of people don't like prologues, but this is setting things up for future events. Plenty of foreshadowing here.
Before we end this chapter, though, there's a few people I seriously need to thank:
crystaltears24 for beta-reading this story and being my musical consultant.
Casey Storm for beta-reading this story.
soccermonkey413 for being my creative consultant.
And last but absolutely not least, Tie Dye Pencils for being my illustrator and creative consultant. She deserves as much credit as I do for this story; she's been listening to me rant about it and giving me ideas for a whole year. A whole year!
Give these folks a round of applause! This story would not be what it is today without these four lovely people. You can also see Tie Dye's work and pictures from this story on her DeviantArt page (her username there: Drama26). Links will be posted on my profile page, towards the bottom. Check her pictures out!
Special thanks as well to all those who submitted OCs to my forum: ereader12, theblackqueen1, unknownfangirl10, TheMeepyFreak, Writer207, Kaitlyn Grace W, Clarity665, BeautifulSupernova, Tie Dye Pencils, StripedFuzzySocks, PrincessSparkleKitty, girlbird3, and purpledolphin05. The forum is still open for those who would like to submit an OC to appear later on in the story. No submissions by review, however. It will be ignored and/or deleted. Please head over to the forum to do that. (Link on profile.)
Thank you so much for checking out this prologue to my sci-fi epic, War Torn. I hope it was to your liking. Reviews are always welcome. Let me know what I did well and what I did wrong. Writers can always benefit from both those things. I am not entirely sure when the first chapter will go up; before the end of the month, hopefully. I already have nine chapters (plus this prologue) done. My War Torn document is 115 pages and over 33,000 words already. And baby, I'm just getting started! So keep an eye out for the first chapter, and if things go well, I'll post it soon.
I do have to say this real quick: My wrist has been giving me serious trouble lately, which means I haven't been able to write all week. Maybe I shouldn't even now, but I just have to post this today. However, that means other stories won't be updated anytime soon. Sorry, guys, but I just don't want to hurt my hand more. (Prayers from my Christian friends would be appreciated.)
That all being said, I'm fairly certain I should be able to post again soon. In the meantime, I have a birthday to get to. ;) See you all soon! Bye!
Glossary and Pronunciation Key
Ally (say: al-ie) - Nickname for an Alliance soldier fighting for the Galactic Alliance of Planets.
Bionic Battalion - Special division of the Galactic Alliance of Planets' army made up of bionic soldiers.
Blaster - A weapon which fires small laser bolts at a target, causing damage that ranges from stunning to killing, depending on the blaster. It is important to note that blasters and guns are not the same; blasters fire lasers (called "bolts") while guns fire bullets.
Galactic Alliance of Planets (GAP) - A democratic government system where different planets come together in a loose alliance to make decisions for the galaxy. Though the individual planets may have their own governments, they answer to GAP. (Real life comparison: United Nations [UN], though with a bit more power.)
Kern Amsmith (say: kurn am-smith)
New Year's Day: A day of festivities in the galaxy on the first day of the year; a galactic holiday. (Real life comparison: Christmas.)
Rev: Nickname for a Revolutionary soldier fighting for Victor Krane.