Y'all know the drill. This is my last and final submission for the YC 118 Pod and Planet Fiction Contest. Bestow your lovely comments and critique upon me! (Jk, you don't have to, but they are appreciated all the same <3)
Update 10.12.17: This submission won 3rd place prize for the 8000 Suns category.
I tell my children of the night some years. A night radiant with shooting stars from the dark skies above. I tell them how beautifully lit up the skies were that night. I tell them how their father and I held each other so close, and made a wish together.
In truth, I’m hiding a horrible secret from them. In truth, those fairy-like lights were the incinerating pieces of the Shiigeru crashing down onto the land below. In truth, their father and I clung together in terror, unsure if we’d be embracing for the last time. Our wish was for a better future for our twins. Our wish was for a peace to finally settle over Caldari Prime.
We were so very lucky that day. A business trip called for the presence of my husband far north of Arcurio. I was on vacation, so I decided to join him and explore the frigid landscapes of northern Caldari Prime. I remember him joking about how going that far north while being pregnant would cause our twins to grow up cold and insincere, but I know he is just as glad as I that I joined him. We left our residence in Arcurio, and took a shuttle north.
After his meeting concluded, we were lounging around the hotel room for a bit. Firewood crackled, and a cup of warm green tea with a dab of honey warmed my hands. My husband had a firm, yet gentle grasp around my belly. It was a wonderful few moments of peaceful tranquility. I was never a fan of Gallentean holodramas, but even the one we were watching that moment seemed perfect.
---
A sudden emergency broadcast interrupts that perfect vision. City-wide alarms sound off in the distance.
“Martial Law Declared: All civilians ordered to seek the nearest shelter and remain indoors.”
The text of the moving banner across the screen causes an uneasy buildup of fear within my heart. I push myself closer into the arms of my husband. He responds by wrapping me tighter. For what feels like an eternity, we lay there motionless and without words. I can feel confusion and anxiety coursing through his veins. His heart betrays his true emotional state - I can feel the frantic thumping of his heart as my back pushes closer against his chest. His quick and heavy breaths reek of anxiety.
“We should be prepared to leave, if it comes down to it.” His words break through the silence like an icebreaker crushing frozen layers of ice blanketing frigid waters. I nod my head silently, and we quickly dress up and pack appropriately.
We congregate in a lobby deep within the hotel, along with other patrons, at the request of hotel staff. There is some light gunfire being exchanged outside by Federation and State forces. All of us huddle in that space closely. You could almost cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. Somehow, though, we always knew this day would come. We all just wished it wouldn’t be during our lifetimes.
A group of Federal marines storm into the hotel. It is hard to hear what they’re saying amid the screams and cries of the other hotel guests. They reassure us everything will be okay, and that we are hereby ordered to evacuate the building and move to a safezone in the outskirts of the city. With hopeful eyes, longing for this episode to end, I look to my husband as he helps lead the way forward.
After an hour or so of traveling, we manage to make it to the outskirts. Dusk is approaching quickly, and the northern winds begin whipping our exposed skin with harsh lashes of cold air. We are supplied cheap military blankets of rather poor quality. I can’t complain, though, because my babies are okay despite the chaos of today. That is all I really care about right now. My unborn twins and my husband who, bless his heart, is trying his best to keep it together. I know he does it for me, and for our children.
With twilight hours upon us, the darkened skies unveil the portrait of the airspace a great distance above us. Countless flashes of blaster ejections and missile explosions overpower the fading sun. I feel my insides twisting in discomfort. There is a huge battle going on up there, and we below are at the mercy of whatever happens. My warm breath escapes in a smoky puff which withers away by the cold night air, much like the hulls of dozens of starships succumbing to the icy temperatures of deep space.
Finally, it happens.
The largest, most clearly recognizable hull above - the Shiigeru - grows larger as explosions and fire trail along the cold-grey hull. I gasp in unison with the rest of the refugees. Scraps of metal and debris begin pouring down south over the city of Arcurio and Kaalakiota mountain range. Scraps and chunks alike light up the night sky as they rain down like fiery tears from a fallen dragon. I feel the sting of icy tears trying to stream from my eyes as I witness the sky fall upon my beloved home of Arcurio.
This can’t be happening. We all just sit there gazing in awe at the blood-tinged skies that night.
---
I’m still not sure how to tell our children the truth of what happened that night. I’m not sure how I can tell them why now, years later, the trauma of what happened over Arcurio that day still persists. I don’t know how to explain to them why there is a 120 meter long by 6 meter high section of titanium diborite resting in District 24 of Arcurio. I’m unsure how to let them know why there are so many memorials littered across the city, both big and small.
Maybe one day, when they’re much older, I will find a way to tell them the truth. Until that day, I can only keep saying how beautiful and peaceful the dark skies looked that night. The ugly truth resides deep within me like a malevolent monster just itching to crawl out. The truth is the sky fell down upon the people of Caldari Prime that night. The physical scars and emotional trauma from that day still goes to bed with us every night since.
Author
Topic: Skyfall (Read 1015 times)