The Childrens Rebellion

The Dance, the Song, the vents

Tommy touched down on the grass with barely a whisper, smirking into the air as he stepped aside and ignored the other teenagers and guards that were staring at him in near-disbelief. He glanced up and waited for about a minute and a half as the skimmer descended.

He wouldn't admit he was slightly out of breath. He had fallen about six hundred yards, four hundred of them being complete freefall.

When the skimmer was five feet from the ground, Drista hopped out, bunching her sage green skirts in her hand, so they didn't billow out, and dropped next to Tommy on the grass.

"Show off," she grumbled, punching him in the shoulder.

"That's my middle name," he said with a grin.

"I thought it was Kraken," Ranboo announced, stepping off the side of the skimmer after it actually had landed. "And Danger. And Careful."

"Right," Tommy said unblinkingly. "Tommy Careful Kraken Danger Innes. That's me."

"That's one hell of a stunt you pulled, kid," the pilot who was driving the skimmer called out to Tommy, his slitted eyes slightly blown wide. "That what Avians can do?"

He swallowed slightly, thinking of the few that were left of them. "Some of them," he said. "Me, really."

"I would have liked to have met them, if they're all as intrepid as you," the pilot said, tipping his hat. "Good luck at the dance."

"Thanks," Tommy said.

He almost felt bad for stealing from them but shrugged it off as Ranboo pointed towards the gates, where a duo, a man and a woman—the male Human-passing and the female Elytrian were dressed, both in red and white suits, checking invitations. Tommy, Drista, and Ranboo joined the line of other teens—most of whom, he noted with pride, were shorter than him.

A few gave him looks. Some recognized him, looking between him and Ranboo with open mouths. Others were merely—judging. As if he would be a threat to whatever political game was about to happen that night.

"Tommy Innes and Ranboo," he heard, once, stiffening slightly. Ranboo, on his left, nudged him slightly until he relaxed. They had given a live interview. Which had promptly blown up, and, according to Lani, who was the honorary social media teen—been trending on different socials for about three days.

Not many teens were famous, after all. Galaxy famous.

He didn't even know why. Perhaps it was because all of this was like some sort of book—rebellion and death and fire and blood. This wasn't some pretty prince of some planet; these had been the deaths of children from every race—save the Arachnids, of course—and it had been a blow to the inside.

Thousands dead. Right under the noses of the Galactic Rebellion. A teaching moment that, to Tommy's knowledge, hadn't happened since. They had people sent to each outpost, neutral or not, monthly, and access to live video footage of the outskirts. No more private institutions, no more genocides like this.

At least the galaxy had learned something, even if it had been born from pain. At least they had pushed—and made—change.

When they reached the front of the line, and were nearly into the gardens of the Kinoko castle, the man and the woman introduced themselves to be Calvin—a dark-skinned black-haired Shulker male, now that Tommy could recognize the ease of which he dismissed something into midair—and K'thr'yn—pronounced like Kathryn, but twisting the name slightly.

"Invitations, please?" K'thr'yn said, smiling slightly at the three of them. If she recognized them, she didn't show it. Her accent mirrored Phil and Hannah's, though hers was more like Sniff's parents—thicker and more noticeable.