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Name: Central Munitions Building, 1E-45 (Naiaren).
Coordinates: 14.2350° S, 51.9253° W
Purpose: Weapons Manufacture and armaments restocking.
Type: Industrial
Status: A̶̶c̶̶t̶̶i̶̶v̶̶e̶ (Under attack).
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PA System: "Warning, unauthorized prescences have breached the security perimeter!"
Z'kri winds through the many pipe-lined corridors as red alarm lights and sirens flood the halls.
He manages to break his way into the open area, the assembly line. Equipment presses, molds, and welds rudimentary metals into complex machines and troop-arms. The machines release a lot of smog, so even with vents and grates everywhere, the air quality of the facility is a lot poorer than outside. So much so, Z'kri has to put his helmet on just to breathe and see properly.
Gray clouds fog his glass-covered vision. The air is unusually hot, the machines pound away at whatever metal's been chucked into them.. Everything appears fine (aside from the tripped alarms)..
Until..
All the lights in the facility go off one by one. Either turned off by switch or shot with physical ammunition. The corridors darken.. Inch by inch.. Metre by metre..
He could hear the sounds of the bulbs going off. Power down, power down. Shatter, shatter..
...
He tries to signal the rest of his squad.. Ma'lack, Va'hir, anyone..!"
Z'kri: "Dear gods, dear gods, dear gods, no, no, no, please, please, please, no, no, no." But nobody responds to the signal hail.
Y'see.. This is one of our lizard boy's greatest fear.. The darkness. You'd assume it to be embarassing since he's serving in the Royal Navy, but Araxamus's day/night cycle is 16 hours longer than ours.. Which made the days a brief relief, and the nights an unending nightmare. Every good Araxean soldier no matter how glorious in battle is petrified of the inky black void.
...
The bluriness of the smoke merges with the darkness causing Z'kri to turn on his respirator.
He could feel the darkness physically creeping on him. From the very tip of his snout to the last scale of his tail. All of the lights in the buidling had gone out by now.. Except for one. And in that pale unwaivering light.
Was a lone figure.
It was hard to make out exactly who or what it is. The abstract shapes and colours were brought on about by and equal mix of fear and confusion.. until he saw it.
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OBSERVATION REPORT: COMBATANTS
Name: ???
Gender: Male
Species: Erythran, Angler.
Occupation: Docks-Worker, Neuba (former).
Planet of Origin: Erythra
Planet Tasked: N/A
Age: 22.2 Transgalactic years/18.84 Araxian years/20 Earth years.
Affiliation: Rebels, Erythran Weapons Black Market
Summary: one of the confirmed identities of the 5 blue masked rebels.
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YOU ARE READING
The Soldier's Guide To Overthrowing A Space Empire.
Science FictionImagine, you're born into a race of condescending space aliens. Shipped from home in your 20's and forced to subdjugate and terrorize the colonies. Until one day, you decide to quit. And also uh you're a lizard
