Kalon
Chapter One-Hundred-Twenty: Ulima Dom Jukora - Part One
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Naro City
We move with the crowd of thousands that pours into the streetways meant for hundreds. It is organized chaos. Nevari keeps trying to pull my attention, but I have no interest in her, nor her words. Now is the time to observe, not reminisce on the past.
"You are sure that we cannot leave?" Arrum asks, holding Isola tightly to him.
"We will all die if we try it, this much I am certain of."
Korra keeps close, her eyes studying me intently. She is the only one who does not seem worried in the slightest. She embraces it like nothing has changed. Like we are not being led outside into the harsh landscape of our planet. It is not full winter, but people will die after some time without proper equipment.
"Move it!" a soldier barks, waving their weapon.
No one dares to challenge it. On the way here, we saw some foolish enough to try. Their own weapons did not fire upon the soldiers, which is not surprising. It is the Arasha who sold the weapons to the Kuwathi. There is a protocol embedded in them no doubt to prevent uprisings.
The funnels of lines become slimmer the closer we get to the gate of my old city. Heavy wind from it blows into the walkways, giving us a preview of the despair that soon comes.
"Hurry up!" another soldier growls at us.
They push Arrum and the others to another line.
"Do not worry," Korra says, gripping my shoulder, "My goddess says the ones you care for will not perish this day."
She smiles, an undertone of madness in it. Like she has longed for such a future that the world she knows burns.
It is not long after that I find myself without even her. She is further up another line now. Arrum is as well.
One of the soldiers holds a hand for me to stop. Their head in the thick metal suit of mechanical armor looks me up and down.
"Are you Arasha?"
He waves another to scan me, the scanner blinks red.
"He's Kuwathi, don't let the outfit fool you," the other soldier says, then more gruffly, "Move along, gloweye."
When we approach the exit they scan me again, dividing us into yet more lines, injecting something into our necks, and directing us out to the frozen wastes in a staggered file. The children and newborns are separated from their mothers, and taken by people wearing a white garb with the Talum Merchant Federation emblem on them. Those who resist are shot without hesitation until none resist… the dead are a constant reminder for the living.
In the distance, I see that they take the children toward large transport ships upon the icy terrain. Hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers file out from the massive crafts. They bid us to stand in tight rows. We wait in silence, breaths caught by the frigid wind, most afraid to even speak. The only sound I hear near me besides the gales of wind, is the sobs of mothers worried for their children. I am among unfamiliar faces, I cannot see Arrum or anyone from my tribe, I lost them when they divided us. Feeling my neck, there is a small bulge near my spine where they injected something. The purpose I do not know.
There was much that I learned while I stayed in Tarvashal, but I did not learn of this. Fennec instructed us to stay in as much as possible when we stayed at his lodgings. I find myself wishing I had explored what the Grand Hunt was. Especially now that I find myself here. My thoughts are clouded with regrets and anger. I was not enough to take Arrum and the ones I care for. I must become more.
***
It has been more than an hour, the cold does not bother me as it ought, others though, are not so lucky. Some have already succumbed to the cold embrace of our barren world. Everyone is packed tightly together to try and stave off the death that will come from the elements. Those on the edges were the first to fall, and those that have tried to run lie on the fresh snow as a constant reminder. The soldiers in their metal armors number too many to count now, they come and go from the city dragging out bodies. Bringing to us those who hid away. Bipki drones hum above us, scanning us periodically. People speak in whispers, saying things like Ulima Dom Jukora… Forsaken by the Gods. They fear what comes next.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"Attention the interim governor will be speaking soon." A voice says, echoing on the Bipki that hover above us.
There is a large circular disc in front of us now, rising up above so all can see, a hologram of a man's head and shoulders. His hair is slicked back and neatly trimmed, he wears a military dress uniform with an insignia of the Talum Merchant Federation. It is Adonius. Below him appears a counter, it is a countdown.
There is a distinct coldness behind the smile on his face.
"You have been found guilty of harboring rebels amongst you. As such, you have been chosen above the other cities that are participating, and as I said before, there was a slight clerical error. We cannot house all of you."
Rebels? What nonsense does he speak of? How could my people rebel against his?
The crowd begins to murmur, weapons raise, a reminder for the silence that follows.
"After removing the infirm and the children," he looks toward something, like his wrist maybe, it's hard to tell in the holo, "There are exactly 94,572 of you eligible."
I never knew the exact population of Naro City, but given how empty the lower city was, I imagine that we have lost many since I was here last.
"Only 50,000 will be permitted to board the transport vessels."
The murmuring explodes with volume, so much so that they raise their weapons again. How will we decide who will go? How many tasks are there? What will happen to those that are not selected? So many questions fill my fraying mind. Worry grips me for Arrum and the others.
"If there are more than 50,000 by the end of the countdown, you will all fail and your sentences will be immediately carried out," the cruelest of smiles I have ever seen slides across his lips as he says, "Happy hunting."
The transmission ends. The crowd of nearly one hundred thousand does not move for a time, absorbing the information. Then the murmuring begins again, many saying a singular word, Ula… death.
The soldiers lower their rifles and turn, walking a hundred paces from us in a circle before turning around once more. They do not point their weapons at us, they simply wait.
13 minutes remain.
They mean for us to kill each other. My heart pounds and my eyes widen as I fully realize what is going on. It begins with a whimper somewhere in the crowd. There is a scream next. Moments later another. I look at the counter and it ticks down three places. Sekat. Everyone scrambles in a panic, snow and ice dusting the air. Everywhere I turn I see the glowing eyes of my people, there is no time to think. A man squares off with me now in the snow, tossing his blade back and forth between his hands. Gritting my teeth I prepare myself.
11 minutes remain.
He rushes towards me, I wait until he is upon me, dropping my shoulder as I roll finding purchase in the backside of his knee, he grazes me with his blade. Falling to one knee, he slashes wildly. A man comes behind stabbing him in the throat only to find a knife in his own back when he turns. It is madness, there is blood everywhere. Another man comes, his eye bleeding and gouged, I roll to his bad side stabbing him in the lower back where his kidney should be. I do not stop, I continue forward slashing as I go any who come for me. I am Ulima… death must earn me, for I do not go to it willingly. There is too much that I hold dear to simply die.
7 minutes remain.
My arms and legs are filled with cuts. A blade comes to me from the side, stabbing me. I slide my blade under the man's chin into his head ripping and tearing until he lets go of the blade. People are becoming grouped now. Bipki zoom through us closely watching. I take advantage of this, moving behind the paths it clears, stepping over the dead. I feel a slash at my leg from a man half dead on the ground. Warm blood flows down my icy clothes. Sekat.
5 minutes remain.
A fist connects to my head dazing me, and my anger rises. Before I can slash at him, a woman stabs him in the back again and again. Another man comes for me, half dead and gasping for air. There is something building in me as I move, a rage that bubbles to the surface.
3 minutes remain.
There is a man trying to drive a knife into another on the ground, I cut his throat from behind. My mind is numb, acting on instinct. If we do not kill… we all die. The man slumps down, and I move to kill the person who is pinned, but my blade stops at their neck as I see their face. It is Neeba, his eyes are wide. He pulls up his knife and throws it behind me. I turn and see a woman who was about to strike, a blade in her chest. I turn back to him, grasping his arm in mine, I pull him to his feet. After a single breath, we both nod.
2 minutes remain.
We stand back to back now against the tide of slaughter, our bond forging in the blood that runs at our feet. The air is coated in death. A larger group comes towards us after we fend off a smaller one.
"Low," I say.
"High," he replies.
We turn and meet them, me low, him high as we slash and stab, all the years of Nekam beating us and forcing us to fight coming to fruition. A loud noise blows bidding us to stop. Some do not and I hear the crack of energy weapons firing into the crowd. I pull Neeba low, and we huddle, now waiting. Our breath is ragged, and we are soaked in blood.
My grip on my knife is still strong, and my nerves are on edge. The blood-ridden snow begins to settle and I see before me a sea of blood and bodies. There is moaning everywhere I turn, and people shouting names. We slowly begin to stand together, Neeba and I. Both of our hands are trembling. My heart is numb. My thoughts have begun to catch up with me, Arrum now pushing to the front. I look around me, searching the dead. As I limp, Neeba follows, his eyes hollowly searching for family or friend. I stumble, clutching my side. He grasps me, holding me up. We move onward. My vision is becoming blurry.
After only twenty paces we both collapse onto the ground unable to move forward. The mess of bloody snow and bodies is hard to move through. Hundreds of drones fly through the air, they look different from the Bipki, and they have the same markings as the medigel containers. They scan us and a stinger injects us. I feel a warmth flowing through my body. One of them scans around the flowing wound on my belly and it sprays a foam on me sealing the wound. It burns but I do not cry out, I am too weak to fight it. There are more than screams now, something that cuts at the soul, deeper than a blade… the sound of my people weeping. I look over and see Neeba sobbing into his arm. Upon my own face, I feel tears falling silently through the crystalizing blood, I do not wipe them away, I let them fall as a tribute to those who have died so we might live.
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