I Will Surely Die:
Chapter 2
The seemingly premature departure of the Necromongers from Helion Prime left the planet in a state of limbo; many of those who had refused to convert and remained on-world still insisted on staying while others seized the opportunity and fled for different systems. Even with no standing military to speak of and their infrastructure in shambles, the remnants of the government attempted to keep some semblance of order on the ailing planet. Without any enforcers to speak of Helion Prime had instead descended into a state of darkness- and lacking the means to continue exporting solar energy, the rest of the system fell with it.
The conquest icons that preceded the Necromongers remained scattered across Helion Prime as grim reminders of the uncertainty that lay ahead. Would the Necromongers return to finish what they started, or would they simply move on to another planet or another system? Reports seemed to indicate that the armada had left the Helion system, but for how long? For now, at least, life went on in a fashion somewhat comparable to normalcy; stalls in the market still opened, people bartered and traded in combinations of goods and UD but now many doing anything they could to gather enough money to buy passage on the next ship headed off-world. Fortunately a number of transit hubs on the planet remained somewhat functional, attracting commercial vessels willing to trade transportation for unusually extravagant amounts of money. The most ruthless of businesspeople saw an opportunity to make some quick cash and jumped at the chance, feeding on the fear of people who had no one else to help them.
In 'civil' society people wore guises of compassion and gentility just as easily as breathing, but rarely were they anything but a disguise for the ugly amorality that festered beneath. For how frequently Sol Lucia was scorned as a cesspool for only the worst of humanity, so many neglected to realize that the very same type of people walked among them every day. Their delusion was so pervasive that even in the face of someone acting cruelly or selfishly they had the audacity to act as if such a thought had never passed through their own minds. Vod had seen and done far too much to consider herself naïve or innocent, but for what it was worth she had always been honest with herself.
After locking up her ship and doing a quick check to make sure her pistol was secure in the shoulder holster along the left side of her ribcage, Vod adjusted the well-worn dark brown duster jacket she'd found in one of the footlockers in the cryo bay so it concealed her small assortment of weaponry. By the way the jacket fit she figured it'd originally belonged to a man who stood a little taller than her and was a bit wider in the torso, but in her mind the extra room was a good thing considering how unforgiving leather could be when it came to movement.
A secondary glance around the transit hub confirmed that she'd made the right choice in deciding where to dump the prison ship. Ideally someone would be willing to buy it off her so she could walk away with a few UD- all she had to do was undercut the cost of a trip on a commercial transport ship. Alternatively, judging by the number of salvager vessels, she'd probably have an easy time chopping it for parts. Logically that would be the best way to cover her tracks, but it meant a bit more work in trying to find buyers. One thing that seemed strange was not having to deal with any sort of transit authority- the automated atmospheric scanning systems appeared to still be offline and short-range communications must have been shut down in favor of powering more vital systems. Due to the lack of in-air communication, Vod actually didn't even know what city hub she was landing in; having had little occasion or reason to go to Helion Prime in the past, the planet was largely foreign to her.
Navigating around the remains of collapsed walls and pillars, broken advert boards, and collapsed kiosks, Vod drew to a stop near a pair of malfunctioning automatic doors that appeared to lead out to the street. Above the exit a few Latin letters remained, as well as a full Arabic text: مكة جديدة. While she would be the first to admit that her Arabic was somewhat rusty from having been away from Sol Lucia for so long, the elementary phrase was one Vod instantly recognized. Envoys from New Mecca came to Sol Lucia every now and then, bringing supplies of food, medicine, clothing, and other personal care items as a form of charity while attempting to convert more people to the Chrislam faith. Vod used to look forward to their visits as a child, enjoying the readings of stories from their Holy Book; whenever they came through the missionaries opened schools where they did lessons on religion, reading, and basic arithmetic, things many children like herself might not have otherwise gotten a chance to learn.
But after the war, well, the missions never resumed because the area had become "too unsafe" to send people to. Vod wasn't even ten at the time, and while she was disappointed she knew it would happen one day. Everyone left eventually, either by choice or by death. Naturally, Vod decided that she would leave by choice- all she had to do was beat death to get there.
Being forced to squint against the blazing sun, Vod's eyes were quick to adjust as she assessed the surrounding area. A slipshod bazaar had been erected, and what seemed to primarily be New Meccans were attempting to sell just about anything they could dig out of the rubble. There appeared to be some off-worlders picking through the wares, scavengers and scrappers most likely, looking for a good deal where they knew they could make back at least twice as much as the desperate refugee was willing to part with it for. As she passed behind a scrapper in the process of buying a displaced but in-tact relay master switch, Vod's hand made a quick dip into the jacket pocket the man had just tucked a handful of UD chips into before returning to her own pocket in a motion that was done almost by muscle memory alone.
The skills Vod learned in her childhood were ones almost necessary for survival in cases of absent or neglectful parents, skills that allowed her to feed and clothe herself when no one else would. Eventually she found other things she was good at besides pickpocketing and petty thievery, such as fixing just about any kind of tech or weaponry and generally being able to make something out of practically nothing. One of the gangs in the area, the Bombers, took an interest in her shortly before she became a teenager. They offered her an in with the gang in exchange for her repair and innovation services. They had an impressive warehouse of technological odds and ends used in crafting their IEDs, something Vod found she was also naturally quite good at. It was through the Bombers she was able to start making contacts with some of the traders in the market- the fact that she had money was a valuable asset for making deals with the salvagers who regularly went off-world and wanted straight UD over a part worth just as much.
After few years and plenty of opportunities to display her capabilities, a salvage crew from Leon IV offered to bring Vod on as an apprentice. She left the next day and never looked back, ready and more than willing to leave the Bombers and Sol Lucia behind her. While working with the Leons she got into trouble every now and again with the law on account of deals gone bad that ended in shootouts or skirmishes with other salvage crews over a particularly good haul; that was in addition to the few stints in the hole she ended up doing for smuggling and violating intergalactic salvage laws. Those were some of the best years of her life.
As Vod left the market and headed into a more residential-type area she counted out the UD that'd been unwittingly donated by a few generous scrappers, concurrently trying to figure out what her chances were of getting her hands on a full bottle or two of booze. There'd been a few shots or so left in the flask she'd filched, but it was hardly enough to take the edge off. 'At least one of these scavs was bound to have a stash on their ship or something...', Vod thought somewhat bitterly as she sat on a flight of narrow steps that lead up to another level of homes along the wide street. Pulling the flask from her pocket she drained the last of what tasted vaguely like some non-descript backroom liquor. A lot of burn, not a lot of kick.
The sound of quiet footsteps drew to a pause a few steps behind her, prompting Vod to glance over her shoulder at the young girl who stood looking down at her with dark eyes. She wore a long robe under a maroon headscarf that complimented her curly hair and dark skin but did little to hide the slight hollowness of her cheeks. Vod figured the girl couldn't be more than five years old, but there was a certain maturity in her eyes. No doubt she was one of the survivors of the invasion, and knowing how a year-long war affected her childhood she could understand what the New Meccan girl had likely been through in the last few weeks.
"You have nice eyes," the petite girl commented innocuously, walking down a few more steps as if to get a better look. Vod quirked a brow but couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. "Your parents told you not to talk to strangers, right?" the woman replied, noting that the girl didn't so much as blink and instead gave her a warm smile. "Well, if you tell me your name we won't be strangers anymore," the girl responded smartly before moving to sit down on the step next to Vod.
"My name's Ziza," she said by way of introduction, Vod unable to keep herself from smiling just a little at the child's forwardness. "Vanora… but please, call me Vod," the Sol Lucian replied, eyes drifting briefly to the large pendant that hung on a long silver chain around the girl's thin neck. "Vod… that's a funny name," Ziza commented, "You're not from New Mecca, are you?" Slowly Vod shook her head before glancing back to the street. "No, but where I grew up wasn't much different than here."
Ziza followed her gaze, blinking slowly before Vod felt the young girl's eyes on her once again. "It wasn't always like this. It used to be nice here, but now everyone's gone," Ziza said quietly, her brow creasing as she frowned, "Sometimes I wish we could go, too, but momma says we should stay."
"Ziza! I told you to stay in the house. It's not safe out here," a woman's voice said sharply from behind them. Vod glanced over her shoulder while Ziza got up and ascended the steps quickly toward her mother. "It's okay momma, Vod was watching out for me," the young girl said, taking her mother's hand as the woman crouched down to be at her daughter's eyelevel. "You can't just go running around anymore… What if something happened to you?"
"There she is! Grab her!" A rough sounding voice shouted, Vod snapping her head toward the top of the staircase to see a trio off-world men dressed in worn, patchwork garb. Her instincts told her to flee, but after a fraction of a second she realized that she wasn't their target; Ziza's mother was. The woman gathered up her daughter before running down the stairs towards Vod. "Follow me," the Sol Lucian said sharply as they reached her, grasping the other woman's forearm briefly to steer her around the corner before starting down the street in the opposite direction of the markets.
Vod skirted along the wall, turning down the first alleyway she came across and waiting for Ziza's mother to catch up before ducking behind the heavy curtain hanging over the doorway of a vacant storefront. Vod tucked the pair behind her as she pressed her shoulder against the doorframe, keeping them close to the wall with her arm. Straining to hear any sign that they had been followed, Vod slowly reached toward her belt to grasp the hilt of the dagger strapped to the front of her thigh. They remained frozen for several minutes before Vod felt comfortable moving again, slowly turning to face the woman as she set Ziza back on her own two feet.
"Momma, why were those men chasing us?" the girl asked, clasping at her mother's robes as she looked pleadingly up at her. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't know they saw me…" the woman said softly, pulling her daughter close as Vod continued to stare dully at her. "What happened?" she then asked flatly, the older woman staring at her with wide doe eyes before licking her slightly chapped lips as her hands moved to cover her daughter's ears.
"I… I took water from a scavenger's stall at the market. I got home and when I saw Ziza wasn't there I panicked. They must have seen me and recognized who I was when I went out to look for her," she explained before moving her hands and gently smoothing them back over her daughter's hair. "I'm Lajjun, by the way," Ziza's mother offered before Vod introduced herself as well. "What brings you to New Mecca, Vod?" Lajjun asked as she looked over the woman that stood before her.
Despite the rough edge to her appearance, Ziza seemed to be inexplicably drawn to her- but realistically, she had always been drawn to people Lajjun considered dangerous. Ziza was so much like her father in that way; always willing to see the best in people even when others might not. She watched the girl scratch the back of her skull, looking decidedly unflustered by the question despite the long pause she took before finally answering. "Truthfully, I'm just trying to stay out of sight. I did some not-very-nice things to some really shitty people, and needless to say they're not going to let it go."
Vod stared back at Lajjun for several long moments before the older woman gave a slow nod. "I've met your kind before… Come back to our house and we can talk."
The woman's home bore the same marks of invasion as the rest of the planet, complete with broken windows, dislodged doors, and blaster holes littering the walls. Somehow the original beauty of the home still shone through. The door they entered through hung crooked on its hinges, but inside the home appeared rather unscathed if not a bit bare. From a quick account of everything that remained it seemed that only small things of value had been sold, perhaps to pay for food or supplies. Some furniture which had been closer to the now-broken windows was a little worse for wear, a chair and loveseat having been righted while a bookshelf that had nearly cracked by the impact remained where it had fallen.
Lajjun lead her daughter and Vod toward the kitchen, motioning for both of them to sit at the table as she began searching through cupboards and pulling out a small amount of foodstuffs.
"We don't have much, but I'm sure I can fix you something," Lajjun offered, looking to Vod over her shoulder. "You don't have to make me anything," the other woman assured, sparing a glance and a nod of her head toward the young girl who was completely focused on fiddling with the heavy tooth-like pendant that hung around her neck. "She's a growing girl," Vod replied knowingly.
"Ziza, why don't you go play in your room? I'll call you when lunch is ready," Lajjun said after a moment, her daughter's head perking up before giving a soft pout. "But can't Vod come play with me?" "I'll be there in a little bit. Your mom and I are just going to talk a little first," the woman in question replied, earning a nod from Ziza before she slipped down off the chair and made her way out of the kitchen.
"Where are you from?" Lajjun ventured as her daughter retreated further into the house, Vod tilting her head up slightly as she sat further back in the chair. "Sol Lucia," she replied, watching the woman's posture as she waited for her response to register. It was difficult to tell how someone would react to meeting someone such an infamous planet. Some were sympathetic, others became nervous or even frightened. Most were curious in a general sense, eager to know if the rumors they'd heard were true. To her credit, Lajjun merely nodded as she continued working, nothing about her giving away her thoughts on the matter.
"I have never been," Lajjun replied conversationally, becoming one of the first people she'd ever met who wasn't off-put by her response. Vod had noticed the same response earlier when she gave the mother the layman's version of her current situation. 'I've met your kind before …' "People like me, with bounties and rap sheets, don't usually inspire confidence… And you trusted me anyway. I want to know why," Vod said slowly, Lajjun visibly stiffening as the meaning of her words settled upon her. She remained still for several long seconds as if contemplating something before releasing the tension in her body with a heaving sigh.
"Riddick."
- To be continued;