The Burning Skies

I've always held the belief that there are other humans living on various planets throughout the universe. The idea of bug-like aliens is cool, but never really rang true to me.

I wrote this on a whim, having never really written a full-fledged sci fi piece. I wanted to capture the essence of what a scene would be like if this were made into an actual novel. Right now, it's simply fun imagining.

The title is also very tentative. And I guess this type of format doesn't maintain italics. Bear with me.

The distant grass turned turquoise when the wind rippled the folds of the sprawling hill.

Xenix swept his sweat-infused, oakwood hair and wiped the corners of his mouth. Passing the chapped lips, he remembered what had happened earlier. He licked his leathery purse and sighed.

Two hours before camping upon the dusky hills of Portu, Xenix and his battalion had stormed the massive, monolithic skyscraper in Minthe—the province’s capitol. Lucid thoughts plagued his mind, scarring the synapses with blood-drenched images and echoing screams. His heart quickened as the memory unfolded yet another time.

He shook his aching skull and grasped a handful of smooth grass. So many dead, he thought. All in the name of free will and righteous knowledge. No matter the losses, the siege was successful, the Relay was reconstructed, and there was now a straight shot to Earth.

A low, crunching sound startled his concentration.

“You’re about as battle-worn as our moon,” said Nyl, refraining from indulging Xen’s furlough. She stood next to the lone tree hanging from the knoll, arms folded. Her thin, armored uniform was split and brittle. Her crimson eyes and scored face alluded to an exhausting war.

Xenix glanced at Irra, their decimated moon, hanging in fragments against the periwinkle sky.

“You’re wasting time, Xen,” she said. “Time we don’t have.”

Xenix didn’t make eye contact with the young commander. How she made it out alive, he’d never know. Maybe that’s why they chose her, instead of the more likely candidates. She was deadly ambitious and sharper than a tart apple. And she had successfully led the small group of survivors to Portu.

Yet Xenix still held his reservations. Maybe it was the fact that they had dated at one time. And maybe it was the biting irritation that came from her naïve, by-the-books leadership.

“What are they saying about Minthe?” spoke Xen in a sour tone. He was talking about the deteriorating capitol city, trying to recover from what they had just done. An anti-personnel nuke? he thought. How could it have come this far?

“What do you think?” she replied. “It’s a dead-zone out there.”

“The price we pay, I guess,” he said, with passive sarcasm.

Nyl shook her head at the seasoned veteran and asked, “Don’t you care that we succeeded? Aren’t you at least happy we won?”

Xen remained motionless, half buried in the tall grass. He sniffed and finally turned to see Nyl.

“Activating that Relay is a mistake, Nyl,” he said.

She made the same face she always did when Xen came to her with an uncanny proposal: oyster-shut lips, a creased brow, and flared nostrils.

“Are you that stupid?” she argued.

Xen stood and approached the commander.

“What if Carrow wanted us to find the Relay? What if finding Earth was the reason for this entire war?”

Carrow’s face flashed across Nyl’s mind. The megalomaniac leader of The Thrall couldn’t have planned something so absurd, she thought.

“You’re saying our entire campaign was for nothing, then,” jabbed Nyl. Her beaded, violet hair clattered as she turned away in anger and disbelief.

Xenix grabbed Nyl’s arm and forced her attention.

“You and I both know Carrow is capable of such things,” he said. “Your lust for exploration and closure blind your sense of reality.”

She ripped her arm away and spat, “My lust?” She scoffed and pointed her finger at Xen. “You are the one who convinced me to join the Phalanx.”

“This isn’t about the past, Nyl!” argued Xen. “Can’t you see? Carrow’s made it too easy. Yes, people have died, but things just don’t add up. Carrow’s whole idea of confinement and patriotism always seemed too foreign for a man such as him.”

“Carrow’s fled, Xen,” said Nyl, stepping back.
“What is left of his army has dispersed. Even if he wanted to use the Relay, what could a band of mercenaries do against an entire planet of new and uncharted civilizations?”

“You are too quick to underestimate Carrow. Hasn’t he proven his ruthlessness and cunning in this war?”

Nyl sighed and stood straight.

“Xen,” she finished, “we’re going for the Relay. We’re going for Earth. If you can accept that reality, then come with us.” She grew sincere for a moment. “Please.”

“I can’t, Nyl,” he replied. “I’ve fought people like Carrow long enough to see where this is going. I’m not going back to Minthe. You’re making a big mistake.”

Nyl frowned, but knew Xenix well enough that she wasn’t surprised. Inside her steel frame, Nyl registered a surge of apprehension. While she made a constant effort to appear tough, she knew losing him would greatly affect her mission.

“What happened to you?” she asked, not really looking for an answer.

Her question fell upon translucent ears. The two broken soldiers silently reminisced about their history together. A single strand of gossamer hung at a smile in between them, attached to their hearts. If circumstances were different, if people hadn't died, maybe things would have worked out.

Finally, Nyl turned and trudged back down the small hill—back to the camp of survivors.

A low rumble filled the air. A thick storm was coming. The grasslands of Portu were about to be pounded by a deluge of acid rain. Xenix sighed in the bustling wind, trying to construct a new plan to make sure the Phalanx would never activate the Relay.

If we traveled to Earth, he thought, we would be responsible for the deaths of sixteen billion people.