The Rebel Queen - Poe Dameron

Chapter I: Immolation

Calista

"Always find the courage to stand, my child," a smile graced Lenora's timeless features, her hand reaching down. "For as long as you believe you have the strength to keep going, then you will have the strength to keep going."

Young Calista rubbed at her cheeks, wiping hot tears away as she dusted her trousers and accepted her mother's outstretched hand. The sounds of her brother's laughter tickling at her ear.

"Remember Calista, just because you got knocked down, doesn't mean you belong there." Lenora helped her daughter to her feet, glancing over at the golden shores of the beach, a content look in her eyes.

Karas the Ancient City of Thesmora...

Ash rained down from the blackened sky. A shadow was cast over the white and gold flag that stood crooked in the courtyard. Dark purple flowers were trampled beneath lifeless bodies wearing the silver and gold armour of the Royal Guard. An explosion in the distance heaved sand and dirt and roots out from the ground. Soon, chest plates and open palms were blanketed in soil and soot.

Untouched by the brutality of the courtyard-turned-battlefield, Princess Calista Ordell stared at her mother's funeral pyre, the flames long since dead. Smoke danced around her like a sickly phantasm weighed down by gravity. The heavy air was filled with a deep-seated melancholy. Today was meant to mark the first day in a hundred days of mourning, but, instead, it had turned into the first of many days to be plagued by violence and turmoil.

Calista was numb to the pain. Numb to the distant sounds of explosions and boots crushing over the Ancient City's stone steps. Thesmora had lost a queen and she had lost a mother and on the eve of Lenora's burial, the planet had lost what little hope there was for peace.

All it took was one day for the galaxy to change. When the First Order unleashed the might of its arsenal against the Alliance, no one had been prepared for the devastation that followed. Seven planets--spinning, revolving, evolving--there one moment, then gone the next. Billions of lives lost, succeeded by a fallout of immeasurable proportions.

Fearing for her people, the Duchess had killed her own sister--the late Queen Lenora--after she had refused to side with the Order. A few short moments before Maligma's blade had slipped between bone and punctured Lenora's heart, news that the Resistance had destroyed Starkiller base echoed through the galaxy. Despite their victory, the Resistance had been too late to stop the panic and fear from spreading in every quadrant of space.

Faced with execution, Duchess Maligma had made a rallying cry, usurping the throne in a military coup. Soon, traitors became patriots, brothers took up arms against brothers and Thesmora fell under the iron rule of a power-hungry tyrant. Once martial law was declared, what started as a monarchy in transition for Calista's coronation, was now a military state ripped apart by infighting and bloodshed.

"Princess," the faint sound of a trusted voice forced its way into the crevices of Calista's foggy mind, shaking her from her stupor. "Princess, it isn't safe. We must get you to safety!"

Calista looked up, dazed and confused, eyes red from the salt in her tears. Her protector and long-time friend, Koa Kiddé, grabbed onto her shoulder and shook her fiercely. The wind touselled her hair, the sunburst orange ends flickered like an open flame around her face. She held a stern look. 

"Now, Princess!" Koa yanked Calista to her feet.

Without much choice, they ran out of the courtyard, away from the only home they knew. Soldiers clad in black armour filed into the once lush and colourful space, covering it like ants on an anthill. Calista's crown sank further into the dirt as the synchronised marching harmonised.