July 4th, 2486 - Planet Bungirba, Raven’s Crater - The Southern Gate

‘Here he comes again ... You’d almost think he enjoys the stonings or something’, Goro Var Quat said absentmindedly to his fellow soldiers.

Joe Yajla snickered, tossing a mop of greasy brown hair out of his eyes.

‘Who … who is he?’ Sara Toldar asked.

The skinny Joe and the muscular Goro turned to look at her, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘Everyone knows Angora the Traitor’, Goro said, scratching at his thick, black beard.

‘She’s from Sanctuary, Goro’, Joe giggled. ‘They don’t know nothin’ about the colony worlds on Sanctuary—they’re too enthralled by their own criminals to worry about anyone else’s.’

Goro nodded knowingly and Sara’s face turned as red as her plaited hair.

‘Y—you can’t just paint everyone from Sanctuary with the same brush!’ she stammered.

‘Perhaps not’, Goro said, thoughtfully. ‘Humans come in many forms … but Bungirbans only exist in two categories; criminals, and those who haven’t been caught yet. What’s one traitor to a pack of criminals anyway?’

‘Shhhh’, hissed Joe. ‘The traitor’ll hear you—wouldn’t want someone that strong angry with ya’.’

*

Angora ascended the hill slowly. He grunted, tugging hard on the massive carcass that trailed behind him on the grass. Looking up, he could see the Igirah Mountains in the distance. He immediately felt a twang of pain in his chest. He put the memory down before it could surface; he had to focus on the present, on surviving another day. The past would not change. The three soldiers at the gate shifted uncomfortably as he approached. He tried not to smile, well aware of the effect that his monstrous strength had on normal people. He came to an abrupt stop, panting slightly. He no longer tried to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow: he had gotten used to the missing appendages three dozen years ago.

‘That’s a big one you got there—town’s closing up for the night you know, couldn’t it have waited until morning?’ asked the heavily bearded one.

‘Wouldn’t want this rotting outside my house for another night’, Angora replied, motioning to the carcass with his head. It was the dead Alcorna that he had saved the off-worlders from, attached to his waist with a rope contraption.

‘You tie that with your feet?’ the brown haired one asked with a snort, pointing at the ropes.

The red-haired one’s eyes darted to her companion, and then back to Angora, wide and filled with worry.

‘Are you going to let me past?’ Angora asked, brushing the comment aside and ignoring the redhead’s frightened stares.

‘Fine, fine—just hurry it up will you?’ the heavily bearded one said with a sigh.

He slapped a button on his thigh, and Angora struggled forward, as the large, reinforced gate began to open with a growl.

*

‘That’s the traitor, over there…’ Lop said, pointing across the marketplace.

‘The adults keep saying that—well, Mom never says that but other adults do—what does it mean?’ Rex asked.

Lop looked down at her younger brother; he was nearly six, and still had a lot to learn. Still dressed in their school’s uniform, they had happened across the traitor on their way back from a friend’s house, as they passed through the marketplace.

‘He was a soldier, but he sold us out to the Empire—he’s the reason we live down here, while they live up there.’

‘Why would he do something so stupid? Doesn’t he know what the Imperials are like?’

‘I … guess he didn’t care about the rest of us. At least they chopped his arms off for it—everyone knows it’s what he deserved. Someone at school said they had a video of it, because their grandmother was there. Everyone at school sees it when they turn twelve, it’ll be my turn soon enough.’

*

The sky glimmered with the first hints of stars, and it glowed magenta, as it rapidly drained of the last red stains of the evening’s light. 15,000 GSC for an adult Alcorna was the going rate; it was no surprise then that the butcher took one look at Angora and offered 9,000. Angora trudged through the emptying marketplace, his money pouch nevertheless pleasantly heavier. He rounded a corner, passing a stall selling once fresh vegetables that had withered during the day, and was surprised to see two people he recognised sitting on a bench across the street; the small one, Abiona, and the tall one, Ichiro. It suddenly struck him that he should walk up to them and greet them—but he quickly buried the thought. It was more trouble than it was worth, for them especially. No good would come of associating with a traitor.

A figure approached them, dressed in robes of cyan that hide their face beneath a large, drooping hood. The hooded figure must have said something, because the tall one reacted fearfully, grabbing the small one by the arm and pulling her from the bench, and into a nearby alleyway. A blue glow emitted from somewhere beneath the hooded figure’s robes. Nothing could have prepared Angora for what happened next.

They ran, almost stumbling, the tall one dragging the small one behind him. Angora felt puzzlement give way to horror. He ducked into the shadow of a building and watched with wide eyes. A guard yelled, bellowed and spat at the hooded figure.

‘I said—!’

Before the guard could finish, the blue light swelled to a blinding white, and Angora winced from the sudden flash that followed. The ground shook. The guard slumped forward, a smoking, charred hole punched through his chest, through which Angora could see the horrified expressions of his comrades. He had to make a decision. The Humans were in danger … he owed them nothing, any debts had been repaid, and yet … Angora steeled himself. He had made his choice, and he hoped he wouldn’t regret it.