EPISODE 9 IS OUT AND VENTRESS IS BACK WOOOOO

Anakin Skywalkers sister, Aris Skywalker as a bounty hunter

from my fanfiction on wattpad

my account: TBNR_Dream_BMGO

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 9

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Child death, violence, blood, weapons

The storm rages on for a while. I don't keep track of time as I stay curled up in a pathetic little ball in the corner of the cave with my supplies. Thunder crashes outside, leaving a ringing sound in my ears. Rainwater sprays in ever so often, helping me wash off the blood in my hair.

The girl. The hairpin.

I almost gag at the memory of her body, blood spurting out of her carotid artery and into my face. The metallic taste of the liquid in my mouth as I continued to pierce her already lifeless body.

Her family will burn because of me.

The toddler she killed. He could barely walk. Of course he couldn't survive. Better to get killed by her than die of thirst or starvation.

I don't use the rainwater to wash the hairpin. It could corrode the metal and dull it.

Stupid antique hairpins.

I hear the crunching of gravel from outside the cave, slow and inconsistent. I uncurl from the ball and ready the hairpin. Heading to the mouth of the cave, being careful not to slip out, I look down, seeing the silhouette of a tall boy climbing up the base of the mountain, clutching his leg like he's wounded. There's a knife in his hand. It's not Mayday's knife.

If he sees me he's going to try and kill me.

My body tenses up as my hand around the hairpin tightens. A lump rises in my throat, restricting my breath, my throat tightening.

Steeling myself for another kill, I hide just behind the entrance to the cave, waiting for the stranger to enter, my head spinning as I ready myself to kill another person if necessary.

No. It is necessary. They'll do whatever they must to survive. No alliances.

As the figure approaches the mouth of the cave, I tackle it to the ground, kicking it in between the legs. I hear a pained scream and I shut it up by stabbing it in the neck, the blood spilling out as its body goes limp.

I know it's not Mayday. He'd put up more of a fight.

I wipe the blood on my hands on the boy's face. His eyes are still open, the fear in his eyes visible, his mouth open with a silent scream. Dragging the boy by the legs, my muscles straining, I push him out of the cave to roll down the mountain.

He would have killed me had I not killed him first.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead, staining my face with crimson liquid. The clap of thunder that follows the "thump" of the body hitting the ground leaves a ringing sound in my ears.

I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, my eyes darting around, ears perked up in case of the faintest sound of footsteps. The sound of mines going off continues. Every "boom" reminds me of the girl that blew up right next to me. The intestines spilling out of her severed torso, her limbs blown clean off their joints...it sends shivers through my body, a sickening feeling rising up in my gut.

The hairpin, still clutched tightly in my hand, feels like lead. I've taken two lives with this, which leads to around ten more lost. I slump against the wall of the cave as water from the storm sprays inside.

I can't sleep. Someone could kill me.

Taking a small drink from the water packet next to my rations and sniper, I hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel. Hurriedly picking myself up from the cave floor, my cybernetic eye whirls around in its socket whilst my real one darts around frantically. My breathing quickens, my legs ready to carry me while I stab my hairpin into the attacker.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder.

Where is it? WHERE IS I T?!

I look out the mouth of the cave, searching for the source of the sound. My cybernetic eye doesn't display any heat signatures nearby. But how could this be? I swear I heard something. It was so L O U D.

It could be above me. Maybe taking shelter. Now's the time to strike, but the storm...I can't make a move now. I'll find the person later.

The sound doesn't stop. It's too loud. It sounds like it's right next to me.

What if it is?

It isn't. If my cybernetic eye can't find anything, then there's no one there.

What if there is?

Shut up!

Time crawls by slowly. The storm stops after what seems like an eternity, but the sound of footsteps doesn't. Climbing out of the cave, I scan the area for any heat signatures. Nothing shows up, no matter where I look.

Then the sound suddenly stops. Are they dead? Resting?

My hand trembles, a tingling feeling in my legs as my breathing starts to get erratic again. I dart back into the cave, hairpin clutched tightly in my hand.

The sound of footsteps comes back.

"Shut up!" I scream as I clutch my head, grabbing fistfuls of my short hair in hopes that it'll stop the sounds.

I curl up against the wall of the cave, the gravel on the floor digging into the fabric of my pants, my grip loosening around the hairpin. It drops to the floor with a soft "thud".

My eyelids start to droop, my head falling against my knees. Then the sound of footsteps fades in again, causing my head to jolt right back up. Then it fades back out, as if taunting me.

Shut up, or I'll kill you.

I toss and turn on the gravel floor, my hands covering my ears, fading in and out of sleep.

I can't sleep. Someone could catch me off-guard and kill me.

Yet, despite my protests, I eventually find myself passed out on the rough floor of the cave.

When I wake up, my hand immediately darts out to find the hairpin, grabbing fistfuls of gravel, searching frantically for the cool metal that somewhat reassures me. When my hand closes around the golden hairpin, the tension in my shoulders melts away and I find myself clutching the hairpin to my chest like it's my lifeline.

It's strangely silent. The sound of footsteps is gone. Maybe they took the chance to run away.

But they could still be there. Waiting for the perfect time to strike. Or worse. They could be dead. That means there's more out there.

It's dark outside. It always is. But when I look out this time, the night is clear and blinking lights illuminate the night sky. The sky isn't black, it's navy, peppered with little white dots. There's a patch that's particularly bright, clusters of stars forming big bright clumps in the sky. 

Then my eyes catch a glimpse of green. Floating through the sky like very big, long snakes. They cast the slightest green glow on the ground, showing the silhouettes of dismembered bodies strewn over the floor, my cybernetic eye zooming in to one with the legs severed from the torso, intestines spilling out of the body, the lights casting a sickly green glow on it, outlining every ridge of the exposed tissue, glossy from rainwater. I feel the vomit rise up in my throat at the sight, slapping the side of my head to get the eye back to its original state. 

I can't vomit. I can't waste water. Or food. Who knows how long I'll have to survive off of my limited supplies. 

I couldn't look at the face. I know I'll only see fear in its eyes, frozen in time. Like the girl who I killed. Heh. I say it so casually now.

The sound of gravel shifting breaks the peaceful silence. When I peek my head to look outside, I see the silhouette of a body sliding down the slope of the base of the mountain. I freeze. Every muscle in my body tenses up. My hand tightens around the hairpin in my hand. I can almost feel the scars on my face hurting at the sight.

It's the animal that attacked me when I went out of the shield. Its blood spills down the slope of the mountain. 

That could've been me. If the animal was somewhere above the cave...

My legs tense, ready to run should the monster wake up. Its body is lifeless, but I don't want another cybernetic eye. My breath stills. Everything's silent. Too silent. Someone must've injured or killed the animal. And they must be good with a knife. 

I head back inside my cave to take the sniper. I try to lift it so that it won't make a sound on the gravel, but my heavy footsteps do that anyways. 

My cybernetic eye scans up the mountain. The starlight makes it a little easier to see. My shoulders strain as I hug the sniper close, it seems to be the easiest way to carry it. Before I can see any heat signatures, I hear muttered curses and coughs. Gravel slides down the slope as I follow the sound to an area with a few rocks clustered together. Dark blood spills down the slope, coating the gravel. Holding my sniper up by the front like an axe, I turn the corner only to find a teenage boy, around my age, lying on his back, blood spilling out of a slash wound in his chest, his hand clutched tightly around a bloodstained knife. 

My first instincts are to save him. To press my hands on the wound to stop the bleeding. But my first instincts could get me killed. He won't make it anyways. There's no medical attention for these kinds of injuries. Besides, from past experiences, everyone wants to kill me.

The boy's eyes widen. As a silent threat or plead for mercy, I don't know. But I see the subtle shift in his legs, the way his hand clenches around the knife, and I swing the sniper, the rear end crashing into his face, sending blood splattering into mine.

I don't care. I keep swinging the sniper into his face, again and again, until his hand goes limp around the knife. I then flip him over onto his back, before swinging the sniper at the back of his head. 

Blood pools around my boots. I press two fingers to the side of his neck, and I'm very relieved to feel no pulse. I leave his body there, before carefully making my way back down the slope. Everything's silent again, besides the occasional sound of a mine going off a distance away.

He wouldn't have made it. I was giving him mercy.

But my intention wasn't to give him mercy. I was just scared. You can never be too careful. Everyone wants to kill you. Even stupid injured teenage boys who just killed an animal.

Thankfully, the animal's body is still in its original position, lifeless right outside my cave. Just for good measure, I push my hairpin into its neck, not daring to watch as blood spurts out and flows down the mountain.

I head back into my cave, throwing my sniper down to the ground, its rear grip stained with blood. An enemy's blood. I close my eyes for a moment, hoping to find some peace, but all I see is the slash wounds across the boy's chest and the blood caked on his face.

I look out at the stars illuminating the navy blue sky, the green lights that exposed the bodies of the dead. It's beautiful. But it's a constant reminder that people are dying out here. People are getting killed. 

And whose fault is that?

The Mars Council's. It's not mine. It's not mine. IT'S NOT MINE.

I had no choice. Everyone here wants to kill me. 

Under different circumstances, the stars, the lights...they would bring me comfort. But not now. Here...in Control...there is no peace. There is no comfort.

Short story: 13

Good soldiers follow orders.

I see war. Death. Flames everywhere as explosions go off around me, but I'm surprisingly unscathed. Flying jets whizz past me through the air to attack enemy bombers. I'm standing there hesitantly, the hands holding my semi-automatic blaster shaking from the adrenaline rush. I've been here many times before. The outcome is the same every time.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Order 13. Fight to the death. No surrender.

It's like my body is on autopilot and I'm watching from behind a screen. I charge into the raging battle, shooting at enemies, my aim surprisingly good compared to during basic training. Grenades rain down upon the battlefield, dying screams of humans and aliens alike filling my ears. My body shows no signs of discomfort but in my mind, I'm trying to cover my ears to block out the sound.

An enemy bomber travels over my head, dropping its bombs in the process. I've been here too many times. I know what's going to happen. I close my eyes.

The sounds of explosions are almost deafening. The bombs drop down right next to me, exploding upon contact. The force pushes me backwards as the heat of flames engulf me. The sounds fade, my eyes still closed.

It's ending.

My eyes flutter open as I find myself in the comfort of my bed. I let out a soft groan as I get up. Apps appear in front of my eyes as I scroll through them, looking for the app that tracks my sleep. I open it and the screen projects in front of me, showing my sleep quality, restlessness and periods of REM and deep sleep. The statistics displayed are the usual. Restless throughout the whole night and sleep quality was absolutely terrible. I've been having these nightmares lately. It's not something I can control. The control chips in our heads are supposed to prevent that. We get to select our dreams before we sleep. Yet mine are different. I select dreams of Star Wars. All I get are nightmares of a battle which I've never seen before. It's not Star Wars. The technology is similar, but there's no Earth in that universe. My nightmares are of war on Earth.

My chip must be malfunctioning. That's not good. It's implanted into every human's brain so if it malfunctions, it would probably interfere with our primary brain functions, hence killing us. But I'm not dead yet.

I head into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. The image of my parents peacefully sleeping in their bedroom projects in front of me. I managed to gain access to the security camera in their bedroom, so I can see when they wake up.

I prepare my breakfast and eat it in silence, monitoring my parents in their bedroom through the projection. After finishing my breakfast and making sure my parents are still asleep, I head out of the door and run next door to find my neighbour, Mayday. Just when I reach his house, Mayday's already outside, waiting for me. I give him a nod and he nods back.

We head out into the forest near our house. I switch off the projecting function on my chip so that I won't be distracted by any notifications I receive on the walk.

As we walk into the forest, light shines through the canopy of leaves, creating patches of light here and there. I jump from one patch to another, laughing as Mayday follows behind me.

Suddenly, I hear a whistling sound cutting through the air and then a loud boom. My head jerks in the direction of the sound. I turn the projecting function on my chip back on and in my head, I order the chip to show me where the sound came from.

Similar sounds follow the first one as the image of an unfamiliar aircraft dropping bombs down on another nearby housing area projects in front of me. Mayday catches up with me. "What is it?"

"Bombs," I reply simply.

Another boom echoes through the forest, but much louder this time. The bombs must be getting closer. There's a sickening feeling in my stomach as the volume of the sounds just keeps increasing.

I take off running into the forest, away from the direction of the bombing sounds. Mayday quickly follows. My legs feel like they're flying under me as my adrenaline pushes me to keep running. My heart feels like it's going to explode as I dash back to me and Mayday's housing area.

When we reach back, I'm panting heavily as I sprint to my house, where my parents are already waiting for me to come back, looking very worried. The moment they see me they quickly force me inside the house without a word.

The bombing sounds continue for a few more minutes until silence. That's when the order comes in.

Execute order 13.

Every human is to immediately head to the weapons point in each of their housing estates and gather at a military base. An unidentified species has attacked multiple housing areas and are currently sending ground soldiers to kill any survivors. Fight to the death. No surrender.

My parents seem to have gotten the order too as their heads perk up, just like mine.

Good soldiers follow orders.

I feel like I'm going to vomit. I can almost imagine the battlefield. I've seen it many times before in my nightmares.

I feel like I'm watching through a screen now as my body picks itself up from the floor and walks out of the door, my parents following alongside me, and every other human in my housing area, except Mayday and his parents. I try to force myself to stop walking, stop walking towards certain death.

As my body walks itself to the weapons point at our housing estates, I can see Mayday running up to me and asking me what's going on. I try to shout, "Help me!" but nothing comes out of my mouth as my body stares blankly ahead, still walking.

Mayday shakes my shoulders. I can feel it. As much as I want to respond to him, to run away with him, my body simply won't allow it.

Mayday's parents come up to me as well, and drag me away. My body struggles desperately with considerable strength that I didn't even know I had, but was probably activated by the chip. My limbs thrash around wildly as I try to escape Mayday's parents' grip. They drag me to their house, and lead me into a basement, where a few people are already there, I assume they're friends of Mayday and his parents.

Then, I feel Mayday's parents strapping me to a table connected to a machine. My body is still struggling against the restraints as I feel the prick of a needle against my neck, and everything goes black.

When I wake up, I'm not watching myself through a screen anymore. My vision is blurry as I move my hand to see if I'm in control of my own body now. My hand moves ever so slightly as my vision starts to clear up.

I let out a soft groan as I sit up on the table, my restraints were taken off at some point, apparently. I try to project the screen of what's going on outside in front of me, but I can't. They've taken my chip out.

Mayday runs over and throws his arms around me, and I hug back ever so slightly. "You're back!" he laughs as he lets go of me. "We thought you weren't going to make it, you weren't waking up..."

I silently nod, scanning the room. It's dimly lit by a singular lamp, and there are around seven people in there. My parents included. Mayday and his parents must've saved them too.

Suddenly, I hear the sounds of bombings above me. The lamp in the room flickers and shakes.

"Let's go. We can't save any more. They're all at the military base, they'll be armed," Mayday's mother says. All of us quickly run up from the basement. Mayday's house is in ruins. But that's the least of our worries right now. Bombs are being dropped a few kilometers from us, I can feel the force of the explosion hitting me.

We quickly run into the forest to take shelter. They won't attack the forest. There's no humans here to kill, at least up till now. We keep running, deep into the forest until the sounds of bombings are faint and barely audible.

When we stop, I slump against a tree, breathing heavily.

"What now?" I manage to ask in between gasps for air.

Everyone looks at each other, as if they want to ask the same question.

Mayday's father speaks up.

"We hide, I guess. At least until the war is over. We won't be attacked here. We're safe."

I hear the faint sound of bombings again.

Safe? I hope so.

happy bad batch eve

Our Own Choices

Chapter 12

Anyways, the droids arrive soon enough, and Crosshair is camping with Echo and General Skywalker on a cliff, using the high ground, something which I never thought General Skywalker would use. (if you know you know)

I blend in with the shadows of the rocks, waiting for the droids to arrive. My sword is in my left hand, because my right hand is basically useless, and my other pistol is in the holster on my belt, I'm ready to drop my sword and use my pistol anytime I need to. Just gotta wait for the droids to come and for Wrecker to take them out.

I can feel the tension in the air. No one likes the calm before a battle. Especially not me. I prefer to watch the carnage as I slice up clankers.

I hear the droids flying in, and I don't move. I hear the rock rolling down the hill, crushing a few droids as it passes me, and the locals move in. 

They're definitely cannon fodder. 

I watch some of them get shot in the head, and some of the others being the MVPs by taking out a bunch of droids. So I start to get some kills, slicing some of the droids and Crosshair's stealing some of my kills. I'm just about to slice up a clanker when it gets shot in the head, and I look up for a moment, still holding my sword, and hold up a middle finger at him, and I receive a warning shot that whizzes past my head and shoots a droid that's behind me.

I stay close to Hunter, Tech and Wrecker and they're getting more kills than me, and Hunter's taking out droids with style. Tech rolls a stun grenade at the droids and it stuns them, and the Poletec leader runs up to us. I sling my sword back onto my back. 

I see a droid standing up and is aiming for the Poletec leader, and I quickly draw my knife and throw it at the droid's head, just as it gets headshotted by Crosshair. I see him pointing his middle finger at me and I do the same in response.

I look up at where Echo and Crosshair are at, and Echo's shooting some flying droids. I draw my pistol and start shooting at some of them, managing to hit one and Echo hitting another.

I see a walker droid landing near us, and I immediately run to take cover, splitting from the others and blending into the shadows, and I consider running up to where Echo and Crosshair are, but that would draw attention to them and also leave me exposed. Actually, maybe I should do that. Could kill Crosshair in the process. Something I would very much like to do.

The walker droid shoots a beam of explosive light at Rex, Hunter and the others and at the other Poletecs, and they all run to try and take cover, out of my line of sight. I can hear other spider droids coming, and a bunch more of those flying ones.

I run in the shadows silently, taking out a few droids here and there as I make my way to where the others are. I see Rex, Hunter and Wrecker shooting at a walker droid, so I follow them and start covering them, taking out some of the droids that are shooting at them and dodging the walker's legs that are currently trying to crush us.

I hide behind a rock and watch as General Skywalker slices up the walker. 

"That seemed to work, but how do we get up there?" Rex asks, and in response, Wrecker grabs him and throws him up to the walker's guns.

"NO NO NO NOT AGAIN-"

I'm laughing as I watch Rex get yeeted up to the gun of the walker and just hanging there.

As Wrecker goes over to Hunter and gets ready to throw him, I step forward. 

"Ladies first," I say, before Wrecker yeets me up to the top of the walker. I land on my shattered hand, which sends a wave of pain through my head and my right arm, and I hold back a scream. As I roll off the round top of the walker I stab my knife into its head and land in front of the eye of the walker, right above the gun.

Ow. My fucking pelvis. Ow.

Hunter gets thrown up as well, and the walker's head spins, and I'm clinging on for dear life with one hand. I stab my knife into the walker's eye, Hunter does the same on his side, and Rex shoots the one on his.

I see General Skywalker force-pushing the walker to crash into ours, and we go crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust. 

REALLY GENERAL? YOU SERIOUSLY HAD TO FLEX LIKE THAT AND LITERALLY ALMOST CRUSH ME?

Everything's blurry for a moment and my head hurts as I regain my sense of surroundings. The droids are retreating. Wrecker helps me up, followed by Hunter and Rex. As we all stand up, I hear the Poletecs cheering. Hunter, Wrecker and Rex take off their helmets and I try to do the same with one hand, doing so with some difficulty.

"It's hard to compete with a Jedi," Hunter says.

Soon, we head back to the ship, followed by the Poletecs, who I assume want to send us off. As we walk, Echo notices my hand swelling, a side effect of basically shattering it.

"You okay, ad'ika?" he asks.

"Just shattered my hand a bit, some surgeries will get it fixed up before the next mission," I reply.

The Poletec leader walks up to us as we stand in front of the ship.

"Thank you for helping us in our fight," General Skywalker says, and Tech translates it. The Poletec leader says some stuff in response.

"He said the Jedi will always have an ally here on Skako Minor," Tech says as the Poletecs walk away.

We start walking up the steps and enter the ship.

"You stole my kill," Crosshair says as he elbows me in the back, causing me to trip slightly and almost fall down the stairs.

I chuckle. "Too slow."

Then Crosshair goes over to Hunter and says some stuff as Rex and Echo walk into the ship. Rex sits next to me.

"Hey ad'ika, how's your hand?" he asks, and I ignore him.

"Aris..." he puts a hand on my shoulder, and I stand up and walk away from him.

Not like you give a shit anyways.

I head over to where the batch are chilling and spin my knife with my good hand. Wrecker looks impressed, and Hunter takes out his own knife and does the same. I glance at Rex for a quick moment. He's looking down, and that's when I know something's wrong. I look away.

Doesn't matter. Wrecker's impressed, and Hunter's trying to one-up me. That's the only thing that matters.

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 6

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Blood, violence, injuries (cleaning wounds)

I can't move.

The creature's advancing fast, claw raised to strike the other side of my face. My legs aren't listening to my brain. They're rooted to the ground. My hand reaches for the hilt of my knife but it's nowhere to be found. Blood's still dripping from my eye.

I see the glint of its claws under the moonlight, poised to strike. Sharp knives digging into the other side of my face. And then my chest, blood spilling out from the wounds and dripping to the ground as my legs give out under me. I can barely breathe, the blood from my face flowing into my mouth and down my throat as I try to cough it up, but only more blood comes out.

Everything's blurry now, my vision a red haze of pain. I blink the blood out of my eyes, only to be met with the creature standing above me, claws to my throat. I can't even squirm under the weight of the animal.

My vision slowly starts to fade as the pain at the side of my face intensifies.

I'm gonna die. That's totally fine.

Humor isn't exactly working out right now. I feel the sharp claws press against my throat, and the intensity of my coughs increase as I try desperately to breathe and calm my nerves.

The creature raises its claws to strike, and all I can do is watch as its claws descend to my throat and slice through it like a knife through butter. I want to scream, but it's muffled by the blood in my mouth.

That's when I wake up on the bed of my empty apartment, coughing violently, my hand instinctively shooting up to the left side of my face where I still feel the claw marks indented into my skin. My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I frantically scan the area for signs of any movement in the darkness of my apartment. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to regain control of my breathing. My hands now grip the bed tightly, almost as if it could protect me from any danger.

Bed is safe.

My breathing steadies slightly so that I'm not gasping for air anymore, but my hands are trembling, clutching onto the sheets of the bed for dear life.

I press a hand to my forehead. It's sticky and warm. My breath hitches in my throat as I remove my hand from my forehead and put it to eye level. My eye scans for any signs of the sticky red liquid that makes my stomach sick, but there's no trace of it. I lay my head back against the pillow again, and stare up at the ceiling, its white paint coat slowly peeling off of it.

It reminds me of how the skin on Mayday's back was peeling off after he got whipped. I feel a lump start to rise in my throat when I think about it.

It's unfair. He got punished and I didn't. When he told me about it, I could tell that he did something to get me out of punishment. I've known him long enough to know.

I can almost see the blood oozing out of Mayday's wounds, the angry red skin surrounding the deep gashes in his back, the way he winced when I put the bandages there. It must've hurt.

I am grateful to Mayday for getting me out of punishment, who wouldn't? No one wants to get whipped on the back like that. But maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I was right beside him, taking the same punishment. Maybe he wouldn't have that dead look in his eyes that I saw yesterday.

I just want to hug him, to comfort him, to tell him that everything is going to be okay. He doesn't deserve what he got.

After a few minutes of overthinking, I snap back to reality and get out of bed. There's some noise coming from the streets below, but not a lot. I assume it's about 6 or 7 in the morning from the amount of people downstairs.

I head over to Mayday's apartment with a roll of fresh bandages. I knock on the door.

"The door's unlocked." I hear a muffled voice from inside. I open the door to see Mayday lying on the couch on his stomach. When he hears my footsteps, he looks up at me with those eyes that have been haunting me all night.

I sit down next to him.

"Sit up," I pat his shoulder gently.

Mayday shakes his head, his face pressed against the sofa.

"I said sit up." I pull him by the shoulders and force him to sit up. "Now take off your goddamn shirt so I can rebandage those fucking wounds."

Mayday groans. "Fine." He takes off his shirt, his back facing me so that the bandages that I put on him yesterday are visible. They're soaked through with blood, staining them a dark crimson.

I inhale sharply through my teeth.

"What?" Mayday asks, annoyed.

"It doesn't look good," I reply as I start unravelling the bandages around his torso, revealing the cuts on his back.

I cringe at the sight of it. There's some patches of dried blood clumped together, but there's blood all over his back. There's some bruising at the areas where his skin isn't cut open, and his back is swelling slightly. I always hated the sight of wounds. I can deal with death, sure, but not injuries. Those make me sick.

I hear Mayday wince as the wounds hit fresh air. Not really fresh, considering the air in the apartment isn't that well-ventilated.

"I...might have to wash that..." I tell him.

"WHAT?!" Mayday shouts, turning around to face me, but winces again at the pain in his back. It's the reaction I expected.

"If you want it to get infected, swell up even more, have pus in it, have to be taken to the hospital and pay more for treatment and maybe even surgery, go ahead," I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

I head to the toilet where there's an old cloth on the sink, I assume it's one of Mayday's brothers'. I quickly wash it with water, trying to clean it as well as I can, getting most of the dirt off of it.

With the cloth still dripping wet, I head over to Mayday.

"Lie on your stomach and stay still, or I'm going to press this cloth onto your back even harder," I order. Mayday rolls his eyes but reluctantly complies with the order. I then place the wet cloth onto his back, the blood almost soaking through it immediately.

Mayday inhales sharply as a shudder runs through his back. He presses his face into the sofa to muffle his shouts of pain, but I can still hear them. I gently press the cloth down onto his back, and he starts shaking. I can hear him breathing heavily, and almost what sounds like crying, muffled by the sofa.

"Sit up," I tell him after I finish cleaning his wounds, and wrap fresh bandages around his torso to cover the cuts, which are still bleeding, but slower. I catch a glimpse of Mayday wiping a few tears from his eyes but I don't mention it to make sure he doesn't die of embarrassment.

"There. Done." I look up at him. Mayday grits his teeth. "Thanks," he says. I can hear the sarcasm in his voice. I roll my eyes and bring the cloth back to the toilet, soaking it with water and trying to squeeze the blood out from it. By the time I'm done, most of the blood from the cloth is gone and I return it to its original position on the sink.

For the next few days, I help Mayday with his wounds. They've become scabs by now and he's no longer staining the chair in his apartment with his blood. This is the fourth day I've cleaned the area around Mayday's back. It's still bruised but slightly less now, and I make sure to be careful and avoid accidentally peeling the scabs off and reopening the wounds.

As usual, Mayday takes off his shirt and lays down on the couch, his bruised back facing up. That's when I hear a knock on the door. Mayday and I both stand up and open the door ever so slightly to see who's outside. Then five bodies come crashing down on us, and we all fall to the floor in one massive pile.

It's Mayday's brothers. Great. Mayday sighs and lets himself get tackled to the floor by his brothers while I squirm my way out of the pile and head to my apartment to find my own family.

When I open the door, I see my parents and grandparents waiting at the door for me. I immediately run into their arms and hug them as tightly as I can.

"I missed you," I mumble, my arms tightening around them.

My grandfather pats my head, and my father replies, "Missed you too Potato." It's the nickname he gave me when I was younger.

After a moment, I let go of them, but they don't let go of me.

They're not usually this clingy. Something's wrong.

"What happened?" I ask.

They have a solemn look on their faces, my mother and grandparents seem to be holding back tears. While their faces may not show it, I know them too well. My father's got no tears to cry. His tear ducts were damaged from the heat on a trip outside the ray shield in the early days back in North America.

They remain silent.

I hear sobbing and crying from the apartment next to us. Mayday's apartment. It's either tears of joy, or the same tears that my family's holding back.

I've got a feeling it's not tears of joy.

Sharpshooter

Chapter 1

Warnings: None (for now)

My grandparents say that I was born in an unfortunate time. They always tell me about the old world, where we were allowed to go outside and breathe cool, fresh air, without the inconvenience of having to wear a cooling suit just to prevent ourselves from roasting in the heat. I don't believe them. For me, these are all just stories. Stories of a world long gone. 

"8 billion people used to live on Earth, you believe that?" my grandparents always ask, laughing slightly as if they don't believe it themselves. I definitely don't believe that. There's only 700 million people left on this doomed planet.

Some of my friends-wait, I only have one, tells me about how the richer people get transported to Mars while us poorer, starving ones, stay on Earth and wait for our chance to die.

Usually, when my grandparents launch into a full-on rant about the world before, I roll my eyes and slip on sunglasses just to hide the fact that I'll be sleeping for the next hour or so. These stories are meaningless to me. There's no point in clinging on to the past, when I have a family to take care of.

We used to live in Singapore. Sea levels were rising so much that the few transports that remained on Earth brought us to the interior regions of North America, at least the ones that haven't gone underwater yet. That's where I met my good friend, and eventually, scavenging partner, Mayday. He's about a head taller than me, and I'm already considered tall for a girl my age. He's got short black hair. Just like mine. And just like the other 300 million or so kids. Mayday told me that his parents named him that because they're trying to call out to the authorities for help, to bring them to Mars. It hasn't worked for the past 13 years of his life, and I don't think it'll work anytime soon.

Me and Mayday's families are quite close as well. We usually share whatever little food Mayday and I scavenged that day with each other, to ensure that we don't starve to death. 

On one of our scavenging trips, I find a knife and a blaster pistol. The knife's a bit blunt, but it's sharp enough to stab through dead fish or whatever I find in the ruins of the houses that are flooded to my waist. 

Everyone knows the stories of what happens to houses that get flooded. They get abandoned, and whatever wildlife that has managed to adapt to the temperatures tears them up, sometimes leaving nothing behind. 

After spending about a few months in North America, even with the cooling suits on, the air temperature has become too high. Mayday and I can only spend an hour, maximum, outside scavenging before we start to get burns and it gets hard to breathe.

The air conditioning in the "houses" that the authorities give us barely works. I can't even call those things that we live in houses. They're more of a group of tents sewed together and protected by a ray shield, which is the reason why we call the place we live in the Dome. It provides air conditioning, at least, for a few hours a day. The rest of the time, we rely on that limited cooling cream that Mayday and I scavenge to prevent ourselves from roasting to death.

We've been living like this for a few months now. None of us are getting used to it. We have one small screen in the only small area where tents aren't clumped together to watch the news. Usually, the one that stands in front of the small screen shouts the news out to everyone else crowding around.

Today, I squeeze my way through the crowd, it's easy because of my small size, and I make my way towards the screen, getting a good view. There, I see face of the man that always appears on the news when something important is going on, but I never remember his name because I have more important things to focus on.

The image of a globe projects onto the screen, and the man on the television turns the hologram of the globe until it shows a brown landmass.

"Antarctica," the man says. "We will be moving all inhabitants on Earth here. The temperatures here are lower than the ones around the world, so..."

I slip away from the screen and back into the crowd. I hear the people near the screen shouting what the man on the screen just said, and people are muttering excitedly, some cheering. I hate it when this happens. So much noise. I run away, pushing past people, back to my house where I tell them the news.

"The authorities say they're moving us to Antarctica," I say the moment I run into the tent, my breathing slightly heavy from the running. Mayday's in the tent as well, rubbing the ankle that he sprained on yesterday's scavenging trip. My family and Mayday all look up at me, before my family starts to cheer and Mayday remains silent.

I sit down next to him. "How's your ankle?"

"Could be better," he replies, and I definitely know something's wrong. He'd usually crack a joke or something.

"Nervous about going to Antarctica?"

Mayday nods, and I pat him on the shoulder. "That means new territory to scavenge stuff, which means there's definitely some fresh loot there."

Mayday looks up at me. "Antarctica's a barren desert. There's nothing there to scavenge."

"We'll find something," I try to sound confident, but after the stories I've heard of Antarctica, there's only a sliver of hope that Mayday and I could scavenge anything there. Antarctica's also full of wild animals. The ones that managed to get to Antarctica, at least. They're the real danger out there.

The next few days, transports descend from the sky and bring people to Antarctica in a matter of minutes. I'm guessing the transports are from Mars. The advanced technology there lets them travel fast. Really fast.

My family and Mayday's board the last transports after packing everything up. There's not much to pack, besides some of the old ration bars I found a few days ago and those gummies that hydrate us. Authorities give us about three of those per person every month, so we have to ration them. Can't forget about the cooling cream either.

When we enter the transport, we're greeted with a blast of cold air. Is this what Antarctica feels like? I'm shivering slightly from the cold, and it looks like everyone else is too. We're not used to this kind of temperature.

It's really cramped in here. I count about a hundred families with us. I hear murmurings going on in the crowd, and I'm pushed right next to Mayday.

We stand there in awkward silence, and I start sweating, somehow. It's not because of the temperature. Large crowds just make me nervous, and Mayday knows that. He puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly, and I give him a small nod.

Thankfully, we aren't in the transport for long. In a matter of minutes, the doors open and everyone rushes out. My family and Mayday's are the last to walk out, with a lot of hesitation. 

The air is fresh. Cooling. Devoid of that burning smell of the ground. I scan the surroundings, and so does Mayday. Rugged terrain, with gorges that go so deep that if anyone fell in from above they would definitely die. The sky is navy blue. Clear. Cloudless. Not like the smoke-filled skies of North America.

We stand on a platform that descends into a deep gorge, where I see buildings. Not tents clustered together, actual buildings. They're inside a ray shield, just like the Dome, and I can only guess that it's not to protect us from the heat, but from the wildlife.

After we enter through a hole in the ray shield, it closes up behind us and we are, once again, in a crowd of people. There's a big screen, which everyone is looking at, and it's projecting the image of another man, who's dressed in what my grandparents would call a suit, even though I could not possibly imagine why someone would want to wear such a suffocating piece of clothing.

"You are safe here now, in Antarctica," the man says, and I start hearing people talking again. The man waits until everyone is silent before continuing. "No one goes in or out of the ray shield unless given specific permission to do so."

Mayday and I glance at each other with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your stay here, and good luck."

Good luck? What does he mean by good luck? 

As the crowd disperses and authorities lead others to their respective buildings, I turn to Mayday, and he turns to me.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

THE WAY HE SAYS HER NAME HES SO WORRIED FOR HER

"this is our chance."

Our Own Choices

Chapter 10

The Bad Batch found an entrance to the city, and contacted General Skywalker, me and Rex. It's really windy up here, it's a good thing I'm wearing a helmet because I think there's sand in the wind. General Skywalker doesn't look very happy, of course he isn't. Sand's coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere, just like Crosshair. At least, when I finally get a chance to stab him. I kinda wanna rip his guts out while he's still alive, no one talks shit about Echo and makes it through the night.

"We're in business, General. Tech regained Echo's signal," Hunter says as we reach them. "It's coming from this tower. How's it going Tech?"

Tech doesn't reply, he's busy hacking the door, and in a few moments, the door opens.

"Sorry it took so long."

Shut up and stop flexing.

"Hey Crosshair, go and check it out," Hunter says and Crosshair walks into the place. 

"Yea, it's a lift."

No need to state the obvious.

"Well we already knew that," Tech says as we all walk in.

"Wait wait wait, a lift?" I hear Wrecker's sounding a bit scared. "How far up are we going?"

"Don't worry Wrecker, I'll hold your hand," Hunter replies, receiving a shoulder knock from Wrecker. "Hey cut it out Sarge. Just gimme some droids to crush."

The lift door closes and we ascend.

"Remember, this is a stealth mission. No blasting, no blowing things up. Nobody knows we're here," General Skywalker says and the doors open, revealing a bunch of droids, and the batch and I run in, blasting the remaining droids that Wrecker hasn't destroyed or thrown off the building.

Hunter and Crosshair take out the ones near the edge, while Tech and I take out the ones guarding the hallway. I manage to get 3 of them with my sword as Tech rolls and takes cover behind the crates. 

Some more droids come out from the hallway and Wrecker starts taking care of them, running over to the 2 droids at my place, but I take them out with a shot to the head in one and I throw my knife at the other, hitting it square in the head.

Once they all get taken out, Wrecker starts shouting "YEAHHHH" like he just won a battle royale solo in the legendary rank in Call of Duty.

Shit don't think about that. Anyways, cringe.

I cringe slightly and all of us stare at Wrecker with that "tf bro" look under our helmets.

"Uh sorry. I just got excited," he says, walking over to us.

"I've still got a lock on Echo's signal," Tech says.

"Alright men, let's hunt some droids," Hunter says and we walk into the hallway. We walk for about a minute before we reach a door, Hunter's the first to look out, and then signals to Rex, and they go out and blast the droids. The rest of us walk out.

"Where exactly is Echo's signal coming from?" General Skywalker asks.

"Strange. I just lost the signal," Tech says as Rex takes off his helmet.

"What? How can that be? There's no 'atmospheric disturbances' up here."

"Well, I have a new theory. I'm surprised I did not consider it earlier." Tech sounds like an AI. "The signal is only traceable during data transmissions. So until Echo dispenses more intel, I cannot pick up the signal."

"Okay, we're splitting up," General Skywalker says. "Search every door. If someone finds Echo, contact the others. We go in together, just in case there's trouble."

So Crosshair and I follow General Skywalker while the others follow Rex, running off in the other direction. I'm only following them because maybe I'll get the chance to rip Crosshair's eye out. 

General Skywalker takes one door, Crosshair takes another, and I take the furthest one, walking into the dimly-lit corridor, full of crates. 

"Echo?" I call out, and there's a slight echo throughout the room. No pun intended. There's no reply, so I turn my heat visor on, and I don't see anything, so I head out and check on General Skywalker, Crosshair is there as well.

A droid is just about to hump/blast General Skywalker and Crosshair fires a shot at the same time I throw my knife at the droid. The knife hits the droid's head and the shot hits the body of the droid. 

General Skywalker whips around, lightsaber ignited, as Crosshair lowers his rifle. General Skywalker picks up my knife from the droid's head, throwing it back at me over Crosshair's shoulder, and retracts his lightsaber. I catch the knife by the handle and sheath it back into my wrist compartment.

"Nice throw," General Skywalker says as we walk out.

"Nice shot," I say to Crosshair, and he gives me that downwards nod of respect.

HELL YEA

We head to where the others are, General Skywalker leading the way. We see a bunch of droids surrounding them, and General Skywalker force pushes some of the droids out of the way, slicing them in half with his lightsaber. I run ahead and steal some kills from Hunter with my sword, pistol in the other hand. 

Crosshair shoots from behind, and then doing that Call of Duty slide, shooting 2 more droids in the process and hitting one with his rifle before shooting it.

General Skywalker finishes up the last droid, and then there's a moment of silence and we all look around, before more droids come from the hallway, blasting at us. I duck as a blaster bolt whizzes over my head, going to take cover where Hunter, Rex and Tech are at.

"GUYS SHOULDN'T WE LIKE OPEN THAT DOOR OR SMTH," I shout as I blast a few droids that are coming from the opposite hallway.

"Tech, open that door for Rex!" General Skywalker commands, and Tech gets to work. Rex and I run to the door as it opens and we find ourselves in a room lit by yellow floor lamps, electricity crackling at some pillars, and there's a control panel below what looks like one of those escape pods.

"This doesn't look good," I comment as Tech goes to press some buttons on the control panel, which causes some white gas to come out of the pod. "I'm definitely picking up a life-form in there," Tech says as he presses more buttons. "It seems to be a stasis chamber. I think I can get it open." 

And then when the stasis chamber opens, a bunch of white gas flows out, followed by what I can barely recognize as Echo, connected to the thing by wires, hanging out, his eyes lifeless. He looks almost droidlike, with all the machinery connected to him. I can almost hear him transmitting "CT-1409", and I resist the urge to back away, creeped out by Echo's dead-looking eyes.

"Echo," Rex says, before standing on the control panel and disconnecting a wire from Echo's legs, and carrying him, setting him down on the ground. I now have a clear view of him, his right arm has become a prosthetic one, it looks like the machinery that the droids use to open doors in the republic ships. 

"Tech, we gotta get him outta here," Rex says. "Figure out how to unplug him from...from this mess."

We both take off our helmets and look down at Echo. His skin is really pale, and I can see Rex's horrified expression, while I keep a neutral one, I'll deal with it when I'm alone. "What have they done to you?" Rex sounds like he just lost a battle royale solo when he was one of the last 2 guys remaining and got sniped.

"We-we have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel...no...I'll go first..." Echo's voice is weak, and Rex puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, and I do the same. "Echo-"

"No...no...no..."

"Echo, it's Rex. I'm here," Rex says, and Echo's shaking slightly, breathing heavily. I know how it feels like. The choking feeling as memories of injuries are recounted. 

"Rex? You-you came back for me," Echo says, grabbing Rex's arm. I kneel down next to his side.

Of course we did. We don't leave our own behind. 

"Yes, yes I did," Rex replies, a concerned expression on his face, staring down at Echo. 

"What-what happened? Where am I?" 

"It's okay Echo. You're safe now," Rex says, holding Echo's arm reassuringly. "Just sit tight, trooper. You're going home."

He motions for Tech to come over and try to help disconnect Echo, and my hand's still on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

You're gonna be okay, Echo. You're gonna be okay.

Sharpshooter - Only the Strongest will Survive

Chapter 3

Warnings: Profanity, mention of injuries, weapons

I assume I got 9 hours of rest from how I feel energized when I wake up and bustling of the city below when I step out of the apartment and look down at the city. It's still dark. 

I don't think the sun ever rises here. It's been dark since I arrived. 

I head over to Mayday's apartment where he's still sleeping on the floor, and I kick him in the leg to wake him up.

"The fuck was that for?!" Mayday gets up, rubbing his shin where I kicked him. I smirk. "Sorry."

Mayday rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you really should apologize for your existence as well."

"There's no one to apologize to for that," I reply, and we both remain silent for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

After we calm down, which takes a while because I'm unusually high on air today, I get down to business. I bring Mayday over to my apartment and show him the hole in the ray shield. Mayday's expression hardens.

"It's kinda small," he says.

"Those guards fell asleep on duty at 2:37 last night. They're probably gonna fall asleep around that time tonight. We have around a 40-second time frame to slip through and get out of sight. We could take that chance to slip through, get back exactly 24 hours later if we time it right," I point out of the window towards the guards there, they work 12 hour shifts so now there's different guards on patrol. 

It's easier to see everything now. My eyes are slightly more adjusted to dark. The moonlight shining and the unclouded sky also helps a little.

While waiting for the time to pass by, I go to walk around the city, just to get some fresh air from the confined space of my family's apartment. It's pleasantly cool outside today. Almost too cool. I notice the goosebumps on my arms as I walk through the bright streets, staring into the darker alleys to keep my eyes away from the lights. 

The moment I glance at a building with the blinding lights, my eyes sting and the front of my head aches. I try to avoid them as much as possible, keeping my hands in my pockets as I stare down at the pathways.

So many people rush past me. Running towards central area for job interviews, or work, according to my parents. They managed to secure a spot at a construction site outside the ray shield, to build something the public and I haven't been informed on, and I have no interest in finding out about.

I can't help but look up, at the moon, at the buildings that reach all the way to the sky, at the faint blinking of the stars. 2 of them are brighter than the others. One right next to the moon, one slightly further away. The smaller one almost looks red in colour. I assume that's Mars, where the richer ones went to stay according to my grandparents. I can't identify the other one.

After what I assume has been a few hours, I head back to the building where me and Mayday's apartments are. As I walk past Mayday's apartment, I hear him and his brothers probably roughhousing in there, probably fighting over who gets the biggest share of the ration bar today.

I haven't eaten in a while. No appetite. Just that sickening feeling in my gut whenever I catch sight of the big screen at the central area, the occasional news broadcasting throughout the city on radios. The man in the suit appearing on the screen a few times, I can see it from my apartment. 

"Enjoy your stay," he said. Which means we'll only be here temporarily. They're gonna move us back to North America. Or maybe to Mars. Or maybe to the depths of hell. 

I head back to my apartment and close the door, leaning against the wall as I sit down in a corner, spinning my knife and messing with my blaster pistol. It's currently set to stun and the safety's on, so that I don't accidentally shoot someone. Although I would really like to.

After about half an hour or so, the sounds of punches landing and people shouting, "FIRST DIBS" from Mayday's apartment die down. I sigh and lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes for a few moments. Sounds can make me irritated sometimes. This is one of the sometimes. 

Soon enough, I check the time on the big screen at central area which I can see from my apartment, and it's 2:34 am. I head to the window of my apartment and take a look at the guards. They're still slightly alert, though I can see their heads dipping down already to try and catch some shut-eye.

I hear a knock on the door. I know it's Mayday. I sheath my knife and put my blaster into the holster on my belt and open the door.

"You don't look so good," I comment as I walk out of the building next to him. I'm referring to the multiple bruises on his arms and his face. 

"Well, neither do you," he replies, sounding tired. I won't ask him to elaborate more. It could be my messed-up hair from just now, when I was trying to block out the sounds by running my fingers through my hair and burying my head in my knees. Or it could be the fact that you could almost see my bones through the skin of my arms. 

Mayday tosses a piece of a ration bar to me and I catch it with ease. I glance at him. 

"Go on, you look like that twig you tried to use to kill that fish back in the day," Mayday says, without looking at me.

"Isn't this your share?" I ask.

Mayday shrugs. "Not hungry."

"Me neither," I say, and then almost as if right on cue, I feel a stomach cramp, the ones that come when I don't eat for a while. I try to keep a straight face.

"Eat it. You look like you're tryna keep in explosive diarrhea," Mayday says, and I open the piece of ration bar and gulp it down in a few seconds. 

We head into a dark alley which is almost directly in front of the hole in the ray shield. We stay pressed against the walls, trying to make as little sound as possible. We inch towards the open area where we would have to make a break for it. 

I squint and catch sight of the guards just dozing off, and I motion for Mayday to move. We run towards the hole in the shield, half-tiptoeing while running, barely making any sound. 

We reach the hole in the shield, right next to the guards. I step through, lowering my head and making sure that my back doesn't touch the shield. I can feel the heat radiating through my hoodie, hitting my back. It reminds me of how the heat used to seep in through the cooling suits back in North America.

Mayday goes next. The ray shield just touches his back, burning through his clothing, but he doesn't seem to notice. When he makes it through, I point out the burnt area of his hoodie, just to let him know. Mayday nods in response.

The air is cool and crisp out here. I want to run up and down the mountains in front of me, not having to worry about running into people, or the fact that there's a ray shield around the place I'm staying. I breathe in the fresh air, it feels so different than in the city. 

Mayday nudges me. "Race you to that mountain?" he points somewhere not too far in the distance and runs off. 

"HEY!" I shout, running after him, letting out a genuine laugh, all worries gone from my head, just me, Mayday, and the mountains ahead.

I feel free.