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P. 1
A Dark Story

A Dark Story

Ratings: (0)|Views: 210|Likes:
Published by Milton
This is how the Dark Universe began.
This is how the Dark Universe began.

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Published by: Milton on May 04, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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02/11/2014

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1
 
A
 
Dark
 
Story
 
©
 
2012
 
by
 
The
 
Cabal
 
A Dark Story
Introduction by Milton Davis on December 13, 2008 at 5:10pm
On February 12th, the twenty-third year of the New Regime I was convicted of mass murder by a jury of my so-called peers. As the only surviving member of the ruling Cassad family, I would pay for thethousands of years of "oppression" inflicted on the three hundred and fifteen planets, asteroids and dustchains of the Regime. Deggar Prison, once the depository of enemies of the Regime, had been 'liberated'.It was to be my future home until the sentence could be carried out. The revolutionaries were ecstatic. Iwas neither happy nor sad. As my sentence of death was announced the judgment hall filled with cheersand curses. I was unmoved, for I knew that what seems like victory to some was interpreted as a mere setback to others. I smiled at the angry crowd, ignoring their spittle running down my bruised face. Therevolutionaries had underestimated me.
by Night Manager on December 14, 2008 at 2:47am
The small window was hit with another coat of the acid wash from the sea. General Alt’s office sat on thecoastal side of Deggar prison. He was the warden and though he commanded a fearful respect fromprisoner and guard alike I doubted the man was ever in any military. Word was, as a matter of fact, that hewas once the most prized prisoner here. But that would have been before the Regime change, before theGreat House of Cassad fell.The “General” was a big man. A calloused handed and hard muscled man. His face was pockmarkedharshly on one side which was a sure sign of the grueling outside work details that problem prisonerswere assigned to.He glared at me with hard squinting eyes, taking in my measure and probably wondering where and howhard he could push me. Most likely there were two beasts warring within him right now. One beast wasdemanding to dominate and gain submission from me as any pack animal might and the other simplywanted to celebrate having in his grasp, the last of the Cassads.The General drew both his massive fists and clasped them behind his back stretching open the very regalservice jacket that was too small for him by about a size. Just poking out at the collar I could see the tip of a scar that trailed back under his shirt. All prisoners here are branded I remembered.Maybe he had been a prisoner…Not that it mattered to me. The only thing I was worried about was my money. Not a pissing contest withsome wannabe Supreme Commandant who obviously knew nothing at all about what it meant to be asoldier.
 
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“So…” his voice had the same dry rasp I’d been hearing since coming into standard communicationsrange of this forsaken place. “… how’d you get him? Last I heard he was traveling with his personalGuard.”“Tricks of the trade.” I said trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. Damn acid ocean sucked themoisture out of everything. I cleared my throat wanting to move things along. “Let’s deal.”He looked past me. “He doesn’t look too good. The bounty stipulated he was not to be harmed.”Casually I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s fine.” Indeed the last of the Cassads looked a bit worse forwear but that had been mostly due the pomp and circumstance of his trial. A bigger sham I had neverseen. But I had been forced to sit through it all and wait to deliver my mark here to Deggar. Seems asconfident as the “New Regime” was they weren’t confident in their own ability to deliver such a prize tohis very final destination.“How healthy does he have to be for the ‘Stix’ anyway?” I pointed out.The General laughed a long dry laugh. “Too right boy. Too right. Fine!” and then with a subtle glare thatlet me know there was going to be trouble he turned and walked to his big desk. “That’s 10 million NewReg credits and…” he started.“No.” I stated flatly. “The bounty was for 50.” This could be bad I realized. He went way too low on thegouge. I expected him to try for half the money not 80 buckin’ percent!“10.” He said with clear challenge in his eye. “and be glad you’ll get that much boy.”I took a breath. My heartbeat remained steady. Before chasing bounties I’d been an ACTUAL soldier.“50.” I said with just as much challenge in my voice then raised the small device in my hand and pointedit over my shoulder. One click and the hologram of Cassad faded to nothingness. “Or you don’t get yourpiece of Royalty.”
by Ronald T. Jones on December 14, 2008 at 4:47am
I failed. For 3,000 years the Royal Guard protected the Cassads. That has been our only purpose. Everyounce of training is devoted to that purpose, every fiber of our being intertwined with the well being of aCassad. A Royal Guardsman has no life to call his own, no personal affairs to lay claim to. We liveCassad. We breath Cassad.The Wars of the Blade changed everything. As a consequence, the insulation I enjoyed as a dutifulprotector to the most powerful dynasty in the history of the Old Regime was swept away in a ragingblood-tide. Small, isolated outbreaks of disturbances initially, the increasing lawlessness under the guise
 
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of civil protests congealed into a movement. It was a movement dedicated to stripping away all therefinements of civilization and replacing it with anarchy.The supporters of anarchy surged through streets and meadows, cities and hamlets, gutters and glitteryplaces, demolishing anything and everything associated with a Cassad. They destroyed with glee,slaughtered without mercy until this so-called revolution had gorged itself on the last remnant of flesh thathad been the Old Regime. And still the beast would not be sated until the final Cassad had beenswallowed.The onset of dawn pierced the darkness like a glowing orange rapier being thrust across the horizon. Iwaited beneath the overhang of the radar tower, my fellow Guardsman in concealed positions at variouspoints inside and outside the airfield. A lone vehicle, a ground effect car approached, moving swiftly,silently on a cushion of compressed air. Flanking the car were two larger cars equipped with forward andrear turret weapons. I placed a scope to my eye, zoomed in on the central vehicle and thumbed a button atthe bottom, sending out a signal burst requesting verification.A responding burst of infrared from the smaller vehicle was picked up by my scope. Satisfied, I sent amessage via communication throat implant to my scattered unit. Minister Cassad was here. A Raven 12star hopper was warming up in the hangar. The low hum of its idling drive engine was as delicate as acat's purr. The Minister's motorcade entered the airfield perimeter, making its way toward the hangar. Idarted from the radar tower, gesturing my unit to converge on the Minister's car where we would form aprotective circle the second his feet touched the ground.A ragged streak of light from somewhere in the vicinity of the hangar struck one of the turreted vehicles,encapsulating it in a blossom of fire. I didn't think, I acted. Leveling my assault blazer on the hangar, Ilaid down a ripple of plasma and screamed out a command for my soldiers to do the same. I sawGuardsman jumping out of the remaining armed vehicle, rushing to extract the Minister from his car. I rantoward the cars, hoping to lend assistance, struggling to contain the panic threatening to derail my focus.Something appeared overhead. I looked up to see a talon-winged troop transport descending like a giantraptor. A chatter of solid rounds flickered from an anti-personnel weapon, churning the ground around thecars. Guardsmen went down, aerial projectiles shredding bodies. I fired at the transport, but the vessel'sshield dissipated my plasma bolts. The transport's weapon trained on me. I dove just as a shower of metalcratered the ground I just occupied.
by Milton Davis on December 14, 2008 at 9:14am
I was reporting for cycle duty when I received an urgent message from Pappa. I ignored it at first, forPappa was always sending me cute little notes as if I was still a child. At thirty-five I was far from it, but Iwas his only girl and he continued to treat me as if I was still in ponytails. I continued on the hanger. Werented the facility from the Dellans for a month and our time was running thin. The merchant transport

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