Slave from the desert

Author: Miyoshi Akachi

Original post:

A short fiction piece for Just About.

“The anomaly should be dead ahead.” it was hard to be heard over the noise of the engines and behind the layers of the cloths shielding the faces of the desert runners. Such cloths protected from the sand, or at least tried because sand was nonetheless everywhere, seeping in and seeping through.

They had spotted a space anomaly entering the high atmosphere a few hours earlier and they had tracked it throughout the ever expanding desert. Astronomers had guessed it was an asteroid or some remnant of old tech finally coming back to them. Someone worried its descent looked a little too controlled but in a world of minimal resources and little space for a space wonder lost in time, the hope of something new was thrilling.

They had jumped on the four wheeled desert vehicles and run, up and down dunes, through scorching plains and into whipping sand clouds as they followed the star falling to them. Other tribes had seen it and it was a race against time and against other nomads: the first to get there would get most of the spoils.

“It should be…” the shouted words died in the noise of the engines as, from the sands, a towering metal object appeared: in the tones of gold, it did not feel like a technology of old or, even less, an asteroid.

“What…” a laser beam vitrified the sand and one of the desert vehicles exploded into a puff of smoke and sand. “IT’S ALIVE!” another desert vehicle flew in the air, rolling and coming to a stop upside down. “RUN!!!” The remaining desert riders turned and tried to head away but one by one they got hit by the laser.

“Come on… come on…” it wouldn’t help the engine, already working past its limits, but such words could be a support for the last remaining pilot but not for long: the vehicle buckled, the sky moved, sand filled the pilot’s view. The landing was hard, she rolled on the ground, sand was everywhere, what… she pulled herself up on her elbows, she spat sand as a shadow loomed above her.

“By the will of God…”

“Erifia, get the box.” The sharp edge in those words snapped her back to reality. She had lapsed in the memories of the faithful day that changed her life as much as it changed the one of her tribe and, as she had later learned, of their whole planet.

“Yes, Master.” She bowed lightly and she quickly moved forward, eyes low, to pick up the dark grey, golden lined box sitting on the table in front of them. She felt the eyes of the two people on the other side on her: they weren’t amarrians, they were different. She could see it with the corner of her eye, she could perceive it more than anything.

“Our business is thus concluded.” Her Master spoke and nodded, a gesture returned by the sitting man but not by the other, standing one. With this, her Master, dressed in the amarrian golden robes denoting his rank and wealth, turned and headed out of the office. She was careful to fell in behind him, close and yet not too close, like a good slave should.

The box wasn’t as heavy as she thought at first, it was square shaped with a plastic feeling and yet it felt like it was durable enough to resist a fall. Not that she would let it fall… she had learned the hard way to not let things fall. The memory of the whip was still quite vivid in her mind: how it cut into her, how its energy sizzled through every fibre of her being, how the pain burned for days afterward. “It was good business Master?” she asked politely; she had learned her Master enjoyed such small talks “It was, this relic comes from a time predating the time when you were brought into the True Faith. I’ve been hunting it for some time.” He was clearly already savouring the moment when such ancient art piece would sit in his collection “But you can hardly understand the true value, my dear slave.” And, as always, he never missed an opportunity to remind her of her place.

She was a slave, a property of her owner: her family, her clan, her race and her whole planet conquered and enslaved by the Amarr Empire. The desert dwellers’ technology was no match for the space faring empire: they had been swept away in the amarrian expansion becoming part of a galaxy wide empire and an ever present faith.

“I see, Master.” She nodded even if he couldn’t see her and said no more. Such was her role: do as her Master ordered and support him in his endeavours at the best of her capabilities. That was the will of God.