SOLDIER
book one
It's been 97 years since a nuclear explosion radiated life on Earth and life support on The Ark is now failing. In a desperate attempt to grant the citizens of the SpaceCraft more time, 100 juvenile delinquents are sent down to the...
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Every night, without fail, Vivienne tucked her mother into bed with meticulous care—placing a damp flannel across her forehead, setting a bucket by the bedside, and leaving a couple of pills on the table for the morning. And every night, with the same relentless precision, a bit more of her childlike innocence was chipped away, as the thirteen-year-old transformed into her own guardian.
"Mum, please..." Vivienne whispered, her warm breath brushing against Adelaide's face as her eyes fluttered open. "Just stay in bed," she pleaded softly, gently pressing her mother back down as Adelaide tried to lift her weary body.
"No," Adelaide insisted, her voice strained and tired. "I'm fine, Vienna. Go back to bed."
"You're not fine," Vivienne nearly raised her voice, but she took a deep breath, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her mother's duvet. "You need to sleep, Mum."
"No, I—I told your father I'd stay up for him..." Adelaide slurred, her words blending together as they did every night. "I promised I'd save him some dinner."
Sighing, Vivienne adjusted the duvet, tucking it snugly under her mother's feet. "He's not coming back tonight, Mum. Dad has to work late, remember?"
"He's always working late," her mother spat, her voice laced with venom and resentment.
Suddenly, the door to their small apartment creaked open, and Vivienne's head snapped toward the bedroom door, stunned that her father could be home so early. Adelaide immediately sat up, tossing off the duvet and placing her bare feet on the cold metal floor.
Quietly, Adelaide made her way to the door, pulling it open just enough to let a sliver of light from the living area brighten the dim room. Blocking Vivienne's view, Adelaide stood in the doorway, staring at her husband, who was frozen in place with one of her empty bottles in his hand, flanked by three stern-faced guards.
"Mum?" Vivienne whispered, approaching her mother from behind, but she was halted by Adelaide's soft, firm hand.
"Wait here, Vienna," Adelaide said, her voice suddenly clear. She stepped out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind her and leaving Vivienne alone in the dark.
Vivienne could hear the muffled voices through the door, her father's disappointed tone and her mother's defensive protests blending together. The crackle of an electric baton pricked her ears, spurring her to yank the door open.
"Mum!" she screamed, her eyes widening as she saw her mother on the floor, writhing in pain, the electric weapon just being pulled away from her back.
"Vivienne!" Her father, Marcus, bellowed. "Get back in that room!" His command cut through the air, but as Vivienne watched the handcuffs snap onto her mother's wrists, a powerful surge of emotion welled up inside her.
It was a deep, raw anger, unlike anything she had ever experienced before—not even during her parents' shouting matches or when her mother drank so much she was left in her own vomit.
Without fully realizing what she was doing, Vivienne's small legs propelled her toward the guard restraining her mother. As she raced past the kitchen counter, her fingers snatched a knife from the surface.
Leaping at the guard with all her strength, she grabbed onto his back and slashed the blade across his neck. The cut wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but he flinched in pain, releasing Adelaide before drawing his baton and turning toward Vivienne.
The other two guards rushed to his aid, and Vivienne stared up at them with wide, terrified eyes. Her heart pounded furiously against her chest, her palm growing clammy around the knife handle, which now dripped with traces of blood.
"Put your weapons away!" Marcus shouted, desperately trying to defuse the situation. But his command fell on deaf ears; the guards, trained for scenarios like this but unprepared for a thirteen-year-old girl, remained resolute. "Stand down!" Marcus pleaded, his voice growing frantic.
Vivienne's small frame trembled with fear as the guards closed in on her, each one activating their baton with a menacing crackle. Panicking, she did the only thing she could think of—she braced herself and prepared to defend her fragile position.
Quickly, she lunged at the guard to her left, slashing the blade across his face. He managed to dodge, but his baton sizzled against Vivienne's side, searing her flesh. Stifling a cry of pain, she hunched over, clutching her burning waist, and drove the knife deeply into his thigh. The guard collapsed onto one knee with a grunt.
Without hesitation, Vivienne wrenched the knife free and swung it at the guard in front of her, leaving a series of shallow, paper-thin cuts across his flesh. Just then, another bolt of electricity struck her side, followed by another jolt on her right. Screaming in agony, Vivienne crumpled to the floor, the knife slipping from her grip as her skin sizzled with each painful surge.
"Stop!" Marcus yelled, his face reddened with rage and his eyes brimming with tears as he struggled to confront the sight of his handcuffed wife and his battered daughter.
Additional guards, summoned by Marcus, stormed into the apartment, while Chancellor Jaha followed closely behind, maintaining a calm demeanour with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Marcus," Jaha greeted his fellow council member with a solemn nod before turning to his guards. "Take this one to lockup," he said, gesturing toward Vivienne. Two guards swiftly hauled her to her feet, her body swaying limply. "And take Adelaide to the airlock."
"NO!" Vivienne wailed, her voice choked with anguish as tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. "Mum!" she cried out desperately as the guards dragged her mother from the apartment and down the hallway.
Vivienne was forced to follow closely behind until the corridor forked, and her mother was led down a separate path, a path that lead to her inevitable fate.
"Please!" Vivienne begged, her voice breaking as she pleaded for her mother's life. "Please! Let her go!"
Approaching his distraught daughter, Marcus motioned for the guards to halt. He gently cupped her tear-streaked face with his rough palm, his thumb brushing away the tears that flowed down her cheeks.
"Vienna, my sweet girl..." he began, his eyes glossy as they locked onto hers. "I'm so sorry."
Although Vivienne couldn't grasp it at the moment, Marcus Kane's remorse had little to do with her mother's impending fate or the suffering caused by her alcoholism—suffering that stemmed from his own neglect and mistreatment. Marcus Kane was simply sorry that he had caught her stealing alcohol when their supply had run out.
