Chapter 10

8 years ago

My name is Rio Narro, a Caistealian fox determined to fight for what's right... sounds simple enough, right? Just remember that concept. It'll be a significant part of my story going forward. Sounds so clean and just, but right now at this very moment, I find myself in a much more disadvantageous situation. I was there on the battlefield of a ruined city--rifle in hand and chest armor tightly strapped, I pressed up against the shattered remains of a jagged wall, desperately trying to remain hidden from the chaotic din of gunfire that roared in my ears. Anxiety prickled my veins as I surveyed the destruction around me; no matter how sturdy the foundation that supported me, it was still vulnerable to assaults from mortars or other explosive devices.

My foolish youthfulness had brought me here, alone and isolated amidst a dozen Alliance commandos whose guns were all trained on me. Everywhere I looked there was nothing but grey: mangled roads, crumbled buildings, dust and smoke that made it virtually impossible to see the sun beyond the smog-filled sky.

I desperately wanted to live and see the end of this oppressive rule from the Systems Alliance. But how could we possibly succeed against such odds? A wave of terror flushed through my body as I realized how close death was.

The icy cold air stung my face when I pulled off my helmet and dropped it to the ground with a thud. The relentless sound of gunfire echoed around me, muffled only by my hands, which were pressed over my furry brown muzzle. My ears lay flat against my head in an attempt to stay warm and my tail curled up towards my back. A shiver ran down my spine as I closed my eyes, trying to take refuge from the chaos that surrounded me with a deep breath.

My newfound peace was quickly interrupted when a loud crack snapped near my head, followed by a sharp sting on my cheek; a bullet ricocheted off the wreckage next to me. Adrenaline surged through me as I realized I had dozed off for a moment while lost in thought. Global winter season on Bethany is unforgiving.

I didn't know why I was so scared. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity with the surroundings. I checked my gear with my free hand real quick. Made sure the combat knife was still ready in case of need. I knew my way around a knife if needed, but my real passion was the trigger. Back when I was just a girl on the family farm, my father taught me about the old bolt action rifles we used to scare away pests around harvest time. Ah, those wonderful days that seem like an eternity ago- and as I thought of them fondly, I wished dad could be here. It was for the freedom of those with kindness like him I was fighting.

He would have been delighted to witness me taking my position with a rifle. The cold metal of the cheek piece pressed against my fur, and all of us standing in line. Our precision rifles chambered in 408 rested on our backpacks laying on top of some barrels. Eyes fixed through the scope at the large paper target across the cold grass field. On the instructor's command, we shot simultaneously. Cold, stoic, focused. Command was given to rise with our rifles into standing position and fire on cue. We returned to our kneeling posture with the handguard resting on our packs. An order was then issued to shoot at the next furthest paper target. Trigger, recoil.

The range staff behind us, another from behind me viewing my shots through binoculars. Eyes spellbound by the target. A trigger pull with a solid recoil. A repeating dance. We were ordered to hold fire. I remained still, still in my trance-like concentration, watching my breath mist in the freezing air. I didn't realize that everybody else has set their rifle to rest and stood at attention, except me. I was lost, spellbound by the black and white rings of the target downfield.

The range officer shouted my way, his soft Caistealian fox voice broking the air - "Narro." I blinked a few times coming back to reality, then faced him standing up. "Sir," I inhaled deeply, "I drifted off a mome-"

"Lost concentration?"

"Sir, I didn't see the others rise to attention. I was focu-"

"Narro!" he suddenly called out. He then gestured to the other officers that were monitoring me, and they quickly passed him their binoculars.

My cheeks grew warm as flushed with embarrassment at my wandering mind. The other cadets held ready positions after his call for a cease-fire, while I felt like I had been daydreaming.

Lowering the binoculars, he looked over at me calmly. "Narro, do you know how to use a long rifle?"

I nodded, voice trembling slightly. "Yes, sir... but I'm a little rusty."

He let out an exhale of acknowledgment before continuing. "Lost focus, you said?"

I swallowed hard, not sure what he wanted from me. "Sir?"

"Show me your kneeling firing position," he commanded.

I drew in a breath and began to prepare myself for what seemed like some kind of test. Reaching forward, I grabbed the handles of my rucksack and pulled it off the prescribed barrels we used for practice. A box a few feet away offered more stability than the rucksack did, so I walked over to it and knelt down. Placing the box beneath me, then packing on top of it before setting my rifle on top of the pack; I was ready. With a long nervous sigh, I signalized my readiness.

“Rio Narro,” yelled the range officer. “100 yards!”

I hastily raised my arm up to the scope and twisted a dial. Cheek pressed firmly against the stock, I peered through just in time for him to yell: “One shot. Fire when ready.”

Before he could finish his sentence, I pulled the trigger - embarrassed once more at my hasty action. I waited for him to reprimand me, but it never came.

“Rio Narro, 300 yards!” he called out again. My hand quickly moved up and counted each click of the dial as I shifted my cheek back into position against the stock. I felt my body come to a peaceful calm as I looked through the scope at the paper target pinned on the board at 300 yards away. I could have gone without making further adjustments, but I was already too late.

“Fire when ready,” he finished and at the tip of his last word, I released the bullet. The recoil hit me again - manageable. He was testing me in front of everyone else. What would happen next? The sound of a lid being unscrewed from a thermos echoed throughout as I remained silent - not because of fear of him but to stay in my trance-like state and protect its fragile defenses.

I tried to push away the sound of his boots against the crunchy grass, coming up close to me. Then I felt it - a single drop of water hit my forehead, then another, and several at once. I swallowed hard as I realized he held a thermos of ice-cold water over my head, dripping on me.

"Rio Narro," he said in a lower voice. "One-thousand... six-hundred... three shots."

The water kept flowing down my face as I focused and strained to think through what was happening. I hurriedly counted the tiny dot far away that was my target, then looked to the adjustment knobs on my rifle. Taking position again, I put my cheek against the stock and fired off one, two and three shots. The water stopped.

The cold water felt like an eternity ago now. I remember hearing the clapping of approval from the range officers team. He handed me a towel without saying anything; but his expression showed his admiration. All he said was "Good work, Narro," nodding toward the monitors tracking my targets. Then he added, "I don’t think focus is your problem."

The black dots hovered over the white targets like they were glued to them. I paused while drying my face, pressing the towel against my cheeks, looking silently at the screen in front of me. They said it was impossible. They said I was gifted. Though, even if that were true, it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t survive this firefight here and now.

I snapped out of my reverie and inhaled sharply as soon as I saw them - six of them, walking towards me, not too far away. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I grabbed my rifle and switched it to single shot mode. Then, using a slab of concrete as a makeshift platform, I carefully climbed up and peered over the edge. In one swift move, I took aim and fired off two rounds in quick succession: one hit just below the neck of target A, and the other landed between the eyes of target B with a blast of red mist. Of course, what followed was the spray of gunfire as the others opened fire on my shelter once more. But despite their anger at being outsmarted by me, I was proud; two kills right after each other! I still had it.

Back then, I was young and foolish with my skills. I remember feeling greedy that day when I pulled out two pistols from their holsters on my hips and shouldered the rifle. They were getting closer to me. Probably, I thought, I was going to get myself killed; but I waited for the right moment and leaned over a concrete slab, taking two shots from each pistol before retreating again. It wasn't as smooth as it had been before, but I saw one of them lose their helmet from my headshot and the other being shot in the legs.

In my naivety, I made the mistake of my life afterward when I peeked out again. The enemy had retreated across the street to cover - and so, instead of staying put, I gave chase. Once more, I opened fire as they scurried away - but this time... oh. The urban assault tank coming up the road with a fireteam about a block away.

The booming of the cannon reached my ears just as I saw the tank and its accompanying grenadier team before I felt myself kicked up into the air, surrounded by pieces of broken rock from the explosion. It was painful, but I was certainly still alive. With my ears still ringing, I managed to move my arms a bit; so at least they were both intact, although my right arm had a bit of blood coming from it. As I would later discover, some shrapnel must've found its way there. Maybe it was from the blast? Perhaps a small man put it there –– who knows? Over the years, this theory always generated a few laughs in the bars.

I stumbled to my feet, relieved that I was still able to walk and even run and run I did! I rushed to find shelter as I glanced back at the pursuers who were running in my direction. My guns had gone missing int he blast, and it didn’t look like I’d be getting them back anytime soon. I hid behind a pile of broken metal and debris, wiping dust from my face with my arm while panting for breath. As much as I tried to deny it, I knew I had been more severely injured than I originally thought. Sighing, I reached down and grabbed the combat knife strapped around my leg. Even though this time my weapons were fewer in number and the enemy far better equipped, strangely enough I was much less afraid than before. After all, what did I have to fear when armed with only a knife and facing off against a tank?

I heard the sound of their boots, and then saw the small, black fragmentation grenade rolling towards me. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, and I instinctively stepped forward to kick it away. There was a loud boom as it exploded almost immediately, followed by several more explosions from the surrounding area. A cloud of dust swept over me and I dropped down to my hands and knees, shielding myself with my arms.

The next explosion came from the other side of my shelter, but this time it was different. This explosion made the air echo, made a sound of the air rippling. A bright blue light illuminated the air around where the grenadiers had been standing, where the explosion happened, accompanied by a crackling sound like thunder for a few moments before it fizzled away. I peered, confused. What caused this energy explosion? Some new type of grenade?

Just off to the side a bit were other soldiers, most were now lying on the ground either dead or wounded, while those still standing fired their assault rifles into the sky. I peered cautiously out from behind my cover, and saw a brilliant display of sparks that slowly faded away.

As the armored figure plummeted towards the ground, I beheld a sight like no other. The armor was sleek and sharp with metal swept back and polished to a shimmering silver, highlighted by blue and black trim. An ornate, high technology combat mask covered the front half of their head before two large swept back green-furred Amber Krowen ears. The combination of futuristic combat tech and luxurious robes that hung from shoulders and around the beltline were immaculately clean. The front of the mask held digital optical equipment, and braided-back dark hair spilled out from underneath the back of the helmet.

They continued to open fire on it as it came closer and closer to the ground in free-fall. With its landing was a strong burst of wind that was almost like an explosion blasting in all directions blowing away dust and small rocks. I had to shield my eyes from it but it didn’t push me or anything... but... superhero landing?

When I opened my eyes I saw them already in combat, dual wielding swords in a brilliant dance. The swords - they were a smooth metallic surface, gleaming with a brilliant orange light, and leaving behind a vivid streak of energy when swung. In the blink of an eye he had dispatched multiple Systems Alliance soldiers. Their swordplay was mesmerizing; there seemed to be an artistry to every movement as they gracefully weaved their way through their foes. One was a long and curved katana-like blade, while the other was a shorter straight sword adorned with white magical symbols that shone through the orange aura they emitted. What material was this? I’d never seen anything glow like that. Each twist of the wrist was either an attack or a movement to deflect an oncoming projectile. How could you see bullets?

They spun on their heels towards two other soldiers and erupted into the heavens like a firework, quickly ascending to incredible heights. The two opened fire on him from both sides as he twisted his torso and slammed his sword against the back of its armor with an almighty clang – the blade lodging itself in place as if it had been magnetically drawn there. His now free arm lurched forward with a pitch of some sort, though no grenade or sort flew forth. Instead, a brilliant blue flare blitzed forth from his hand and landed squarely between the two, spawning a colossal dome of light that ruptured and spread debris high into the air.

My eyes widened in amazement - what was this? Some sort of Special Forces? I could only give thanks that they were on my side. Gripping my strands of long brown and white hair from the howling wind caused by the blast, I noticed the tank still looming down the street. The ground quaked beneath us as it launched another shell our way. But then, in an instant, he sidestepped to dodge it by mere inches!

He raised the one hand holding his sword and other slammed it against the back of his armor where it stayed, ready, next to the other. I saw his green Krowen ears twitch just once as he drew his arm back and balled up his fist. As light shone from between his fingers, blowing up dust around him, he fiercely pitched the raging energy. It flew forward, low to the ground, tearing through obstacles like they were paper, leaving a trench in its wake. When it collided with the tank, a huge surge of energy exploded outward. What kind of a weapon was this? After the explosion there were still green particles of light lingering that slowly dispersed into the air with the wind.

I was amazed ... but ... just a bit fearful when I saw the figure advancing toward me. There was no avoiding this display of power. I stepped out from my hiding place, looking at my bleeding arm, watching this figure come towards me. As they got closer, they raised their hands to remove their helmet, revealing who it was, and I must say it wasn't who I thought. It wasn't a man at all, but her - a very special woman that everybody knew. Her slender head covered in short green fur on top and white fur underneath her jaw. Her dark hair, tipped with green, reached about halfway down her back and was held up with clips above her armor robes. She stood a bit sideways, examining me closely. The futuristic armor I'd never seen before was hugging her thin body tightly, the robes around her shoulders and around her waist highlighting her regality.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly with a small chuckle.

Feeling bashful, I lowered my gaze to the ground and a small smile crept onto my face, still the shy girl from the gun range. This was Sun Jin Kaisara in front of me: the leader of this uprising against the Alliance. She had proposed forming all the warring civilizations out beyond the Alliance's rule into one unified body that would bring peace and stability to the territories outside their control. She saw first hand how the Systems Alliance worked. Not what everyone across the galaxy saw on broadcasts, no, but how they really worked from within, and wherever she came from, she knew that the only thing that could slow their conquest was another unified front. For my part, I just wanted to keep my home world of Caisteal away from future wars. Little did I know then what our rebellion would become. Little did I know what secrets lay hidden beneath the surface.

I had thought that I was doing the right thing when I first enlisted. All I wanted was to bring peace so no one else would have to experience the suffering that my own kind had endured. Little did I know that my actions would only further entangle us in a conflict far bigger than I could have imagined. Before long, I found myself on the front lines of a galactic battle with the Systems Alliance and became an unwitting part of a vast political power play that would culminate in the creation of the Sun Jin Empire. Although hailed as a war hero to some, I realized too late the consequences of my involvement in this destructive hidden agenda.