🇷 🇪 🇨 🇰 🇱 🇪 🇸 🇸 - b.b

01. 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Tristan Michael's groaned deeply, crying crying to shake the instance of grogginess out of her body. The young girl tried to lift her arms above her head to stretch out her tightened muscles, only to be stopped by the red restraints around her body. She wasn't exactly sure what had happened, all she knew was that a few guards led by Officer Shumway had busted into her cell and started to yell at her; to which in classic Tristan fashion uttered a snide remark and earned herself a shot from a tranquilizer in her side. Unaware of what happened after that, she had ended up here, regaining some consciousness. Her first thought had been that Chancellor Jaha had finally realized that the guards were a year and 26 days late on her execution, or more accurately, her retrial. Instead, they had seemingly thrown her into a ship with the rest of the delinquent teenagers and sent them on their merry way.

A sensation of a thousand tiny needles piercing into her skin made its presence known. She blinked her eyes a few times to shake off the grogginess and inspected her ironclad left wrist. She looked up to survey her surroundings. The smell of rust filled her nostrils. The dropship was loud, groups of teenagers huddled together in lines, seated in uncomfortable metal seats, strapped in with red safety belts. A mixture of grey and black shaded the walls, the oxidation present in the corners, teenagers of all shapes and sizes adorned the walls, strapped in with their own wristbands and red safety belts. TV's were mounted in corners on the walls, their screens black and looking historic.

"Oh!" Kids screamed, the ancient dropship began to rattle and shake, the seats creaking.

"AH!"

Tristan gripped the red fabric belt as tight as she possibly could, praying for the shaking to end. Her nails dug little crescent moons into her palms, stinging ever so slightly. She couldn't understand why she was here, why she wasn't floating in space; her body bloated, veins visible through her pale skin with slight blue discoloration. Her lungs frozen and ripped apart, all of the oxygen leaving her. Her blood froze in its tracks. Blond hair splayed around her floating, decaying body, bubble marks from all of her insides boiling and then freezing. The girl simply couldn't understand why the council had ignored her death date and sent her down with a bunch of teenagers in an ancient dropship. She opened her eyes.

"Relax, that was the atmosphere. There's supposed to be some turbulence," a girl looking no more than fifteen explained, looking over to the murderer.

The girl was dark, her complexion tawny colored, beautiful dark brown eyes that sparkled with the dull light of the dropship, her lips full and rosemary colored. Her hair was chocolate colored, sitting just at her shoulders, loose curls that looked almost fluffy. She had light brown highlights spread throughout it, a burgundy bandana was tied over her forehead, and Tristan had wondered where she had gotten the money or even the resources to have highlights herself or a bandana. The girl was quite beautiful, her voice was smooth and soft, melodic.

"A-atmosphere?" Tristan stuttered, almost afraid to say the world out loud. Teenagers in a dropship, hurdling down to something, breaking into an atmosphere. She panics once again, tightening her grip around her restraints. Atmosphere - that could only mean one thing.

The small TV's lit up the darkly lit space, static clinging to them momentarily. Half of a person, Thelonious Jaha, the Chancellor of the Ark, appeared on the screen; the masses groaned while snide remarks filled the stale air. The screens flashed once, as the Chancellor began his spiel.

"Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now. You've been given a second chance, and as your , it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable," The chancellor spoke through the monitors.