The Stranded

From a distance, it looked like an incredible star phenomenon. Lights bursting into existence, flaring brilliantly and then winking out. A rainbow of sparkling colors, standing out against the black scape of space.

Any closer, and the trained eye would realize they were in fact witnessing a fierce struggle of life and death.

A mile-long behemoth, with a blood-red and space-black hull, single handedly battled three smaller frigates. The smaller green-and-white ships constantly bombarded their foe with rail cannon fire, but it’s armor seemed unbreakable.

The blue planet below rotated lazily, unaffected by the pitched battle in the void above.

The trio’s plight seemed hopeless, as one of their number was cut clean in half by the behemoth’s own weapons. But as debris and escape pods plummeted into the atmosphere, the behemoth finally shuddered.

Her engines sputtered out, the shields failed and the entire thing swung towards the planet with a groan no one could hear.

Aboard the behemoth’s bridge, a single figure calmly stood, taking notice of the fire and screams around him. Narrowed eyes watched as one enemy ship, towing the other, blinked into warp space and was gone.

He was left alone with his thoughts as the planet slowly took up more and more of his viewscreen…








Elanor took her first, deep breath of new air as she took her first, big step onto the alien world.

Her escape pod had landed a while ago, a relatively soft touchdown in some shallows. The pod was programmed not to open until it had made a thorough scan of the area for dangers, but even if it hadn’t been, she would have remained put.

The sight of the enemy behemoth plummeting through the skies had made her spirits soar: all the lives they had just sacrificed had been worth it.

But the feeling was short lived, as she realized it was practically coming down on her head.

Elanor found herself incredibly lucky twice in one day, as the plummeting debris had somehow missed her pod. The bulk of it had actually gone down over a hill in the distance. And now, according to the pod, the radiation from that ship’s damaged engines had subsided enough it was safe to exit.

Glancing at the readout on her wrist, as she stretched, Elanor frowned. She wasn’t picking up a single from any of the other pods.

She hadn’t expected many survivors, with her ship broke in two. But she had seen some other Pods launched. Hopefully, they were just too far out of range: after all, objects falling from space at radically different trajectories, onto a rotating planet surface, could end up hundreds of miles away from each other.

Elanor set about gathering anything she might need from her Pod: food and water rations, power tool, inflatable shelter and more. The first aid kit was woefully lacking, but at least there was a stun baton for self defense.

At least she knew that there weren’t any large predators in the immediate area. Any that the pod could pick up, anyways.

With everything collected into a pack, Elanor found a piece of scrap metal to use as a walking stick and set out for the huge cloud of smoke still billowing over the distant hills.

The medic badge on her shoulder said she had a responsibility to look for survivors. Even among the enemy.

Besides, strength in numbers, right?

From what she had seen entering atmosphere, Elanor believed she was on a large island that would probably be considered just short of a continent. She had been dropping too quickly to make out any specifics in the terrain. She had, however, seen a chain of islands heading off towards a larger landmass, one of the few on the mostly oceanic planet.

As far as Elanor knew, this world did not have an official name. It was codenamed “Point Ambush”, but Elanor was now considering dubbing it Point Victory, in honor of the behemoth’s fall.

Not only was it always a success to take down one of the enemy’s much larger and tougher warships, but this one in particular had been a command ship carrying one of the Triumvirate. With him gone, the war would hopefully swing back in their favour.

The Triumvirate: Empress, who had taken the throne as a mere child after her father’s death. Grand Priest, who had a particularly bloody history if only half the rumors were true. And the High General, who had just gone down in flames. No one on her side of the war was quite sure which of these actually ran the Empire, removing any one of them was good news.

Elanor was now out of the shallows and walking across the sandy beach. The air on the planet smelled slightly like cinnamon.

She doubted if anyone had actually survived the crash. But some equipment almost certainly did. There would be shelter, at least. Hopefully enough she could scrounge together enough to SURVIVE long enough for rescue.

It wasn’t a rescue she was looking forward too: the Empire would be coming to secure their ship’s data banks. Her own side would be content with the success of the ambush, they wouldn’t risk an open confrontation with the Empire without the element of surprise.

So, Elanor knew, she was about to become a P.O.W. Unless she could slip away and try to make some kind of a life for herself on this strange new world. Or maybe… ? No.

No, she was on her own.

Elanor walked all day. Storm clouds gathered overhead. The beach gradually gave way to a field of black grass. A couple drops fell, thankfully of regular water, not unlike the ocean she had landed in, and very unlike the acid rains she had heard of on some planets.

The only wildlife she saw were some insects, apparently not of the people-eating variety.

As the sun dipped low, Elanor started up the hills. She crested them just as it set: before her lay the wreckage of the fallen enemy.

Taking only a short break for some water and a mouthful of food, Elanor got to work.

She was exhausted, after the anticipation of the ambush. The rattled nerves from the muffled sound of battle. The casualties that had started pouring in. The evacuation alarms blaring. The panicked officer telling her that field medics had a priority-evac status. The drop from orbit and, of course, the long walk to the crash site.

But Elanor would only allow herself brief rests, and no sleep. There could be some poor soul out there with shrapnel in his heart, burns across his face and blood leaking from his side. She would not let that person die because she was napping instead of helping.

She glanced at her wrist-pad again. According to it, the nights here were three times longer than the day. So she would work in the dark, AND the wet, as the rain started falling in earnest.

As Elanor explored, she began to really appreciate Imperial craftsmanship. Failsafes had killed any possible radiation leaks from the engines (A similar ship from her own side likely would have poisoned the entire island). And she found at least one working recycler and a purifying system she knew how to fix, so food and water were nicely sorted.

No wonder her side was losing, she bitterly thought. This stuff was just plain built better.

Elanor had less luck with survivors. The first life sign she picked up was already gone before she was within a hundred yards. The next she didn’t have a chance of finding in time, as it was beneath a veritable mountain of steel deckplate. And a third gave out just as she arrived on the scene.

After covering the charred corpse, a dejected Elanor hid under a bulkhead and waited for the rain to pass. So far, she hadn’t even stopped anyone from passing away alone.

The rain stopped in about a standard hour, a small but appreciated improvement. Getting back to work, Elanor made some more good finds, like the remains of the med bay, but no more life signs.

The first rays of sun were peaking over the horizon when she finally picked up a new signal. A strong signal, thank The God.

Elanor took off at a run. The Imperial warship had been scattered across the entire valley by the crash. She didn’t know what natural dangers the remains (themselves quite unstable) might be hiding, but she was driven by desperation to not be left alone on this alien world, which seemed to be growing bigger and emptier by the second.

Elanor passed a turbine and came to the source of the signal: the ruined remains of the enemy’s bridge. She sprinted forwards, but was thrown back by a sudden shock wave.

For a second, she feared her carelessness had triggered some kind of damaged munitions or strange alien predator. But she found she was still alive and able to open her eyes, revealing the worst possible sight she could have imagined.








The High General straightened up and surveyed his surroundings. He had been hibernating since the crash, but was alerted by an approaching life force. Some form of alpha predator or horrifying scavenger hoping to make a meal of him, he had assumed. How disappointing to find only a scared enemy medic.

Ignoring her for the moment, he gave his former flagship a look over. He felt uncharastic regret at the loss of such a fine vessel, and even her capable crew. In the future, he would have to redesign the deflectors for better close-distance stopping power.

“Report” He growled, clasping his arms behind his back and scowling up at the sky.

The Medic hesitated, perhaps trying to decide if he was talking to her or not. Idiot, there was no one else here.

“Elanor Rrivers” She replied at last. “Medical Officer first class, U.H.F Tilt”

Her voice was shaky, but she did not stutter. Good, she had some courage.

“High General Absalom” The General said. “But you already knew that. Encivromental anaylisis.”

He finally turned to stare directly at the medic. She was a fairly typical humanoid mammal: Two arms, two legs, hair, half a dozen eyes. Compared to his nine-foot, four-armed bulk, she wasn’t much of a physical threat. Or any kind of a physical threat at all, really.

“Class M world, mostly oceans” Elanor said, wrestling to keep panic out of her voice. “No sign of anything overtly dangerous or useful as far as I can tell, but I’m no biologist. Sir”

That had slipped out before she could stop it. For all their differences, both survivors were still soldiers.

“Noted” The General said with a curt nod. “You will, of course, be attempting to send a s.o.s?”

“I… hadn’t planned on it, actually” Elanor said. “I figured your fleet would be-”

“No” Absalom interrupted. “The Empire will not be coming for us. I do not believe I was betrayed, your commanders deserve all the credit for this ambush.”

“So… they think you’re dead?” Elanor asked.

“No, even worse, they know I’m alive” Absalom admitted. “I am not pleased that your upstart rabble breached our security. What’s more, other forces will seize as much power as they can in my absence. A single Imperial vessel enters this system and they lose everything.”

“We always knew the Triumvirate didn’t get along” Elanor snarked.

The expression on Absalom’s face made her quickly crawl backwards.

“Not even I predicted you would buy such an obvious lie” He snarled. “I placed the Empress on her throne after throwing her father out a window. I gave the high priest his robes after digging him out of the mud of a gladiator pit. I have no more loyal servants than them.”

“It’s you” Elanor whispered. “You’re the real emperor”

“Just General, thank you” Absalom turned away from her again. “I have no interest in politics, only war. Now go call your friends so we can both leave this rock.”

Elanor hesitated, then got to her feet. She turned to run, but was stopped by the General’s next words.

“You’re going to kill me” He said. “You know that, right?”

Elanor couldn’t seem to find any words. Absalom sighed in annoyance at her surprise.

“You have a duty” He explained. “To your commanders, all your friends I’ve killed, that uniform you wear. There will be sniper rifles scattered throughout the crash site. You must at least try.”

“How did you-?” Elanor began.

“I read the files on every single senior officer in your tiny fleet” Absalom rumbled. “Every single one. You were easily the best shot in your excuse for an academy, before you requested a transfer to the medical branch. Your teachers agreed, saying you were naturally gifted, but had no taste for blood. Well, Medical officer first-class Elanor Rrivers, you had better FIND that taste. I will not tolerate weakness, in my Empire or her enemies. Your duty is to kill me. I expect you to honor it!”

He started to turn and she sprinted away. Absalom snorted and started walking in the other direction. She was driven by fear: the fear that he was right.

And they both knew it.








For a month, two figures circled the ruins of the warship. One creeping through the shadows, always careful to stay one step ahead of the other, who calmly paced up and down the valley.

High general Absalom did not seem to eat or drink. He meditated during the long hours of the night and spent the brief daylight hours retrieving personal artifacts from the rubble.

Elanor Rrivers would regularly sneak back to her Pod and the beach, always hoping there would be some kind of a message from another survivor. But there never was.

Rebuilding the transmitter was slow going. Elanor wasn’t an engineer anymore than she was a biologist. And Absalom seemed content to bide his time.

The air itself on the island seemed to tighten with each passing hour. There was still no sign of real wildlife on this planet, besides an island in the distance that had turned out to not be an island at all.

Elanor moved her camp inland.

It did not escape Absalom’s notice when a sniper rifle and it’s ammo finally disappeared from the ship’s skeleton. Several explosive devices were taken as well, but he dismissed this as misdirection: she had no training with such things.

It was coming. He could feel it. But that… is when she simply disappeared.

For an entire night, he caught no sign or glimpse of her. Then, for two straight nights and days, he couldn’t feel her at all.

So, as the sun rose, the General sat on his bridge and pondered.

She was disguising her heart beat somehow. She was no wizard, he would have felt that right away. So she must have given herself a dose of drugs to put herself in a near-death coma. Extremely dangerous, if she was off just a little bit with the dose…

But of course, she wouldn’t be, being a first-class medic. And her sniper training would allow her to take up a post and stay there, in and out of consciousness alike.

She would make an excellent assassin, if Absalom could ever sway her to his side.

But right now, he needed to think back to the standard complement of drugs in his flagship’s med bay, how much was likely to have been destroyed in the crash and how much was left now. That would tell him how much the medic had stolen and how many doses she could safely administer to herself, accounting for her differing biology, to remain in hiding.

All things considered, he should have until nightfall at least before she made her move.

Then the valley heard the loud crack of a rifle shot.








Elanor was numb with hysterical relief as the High General went down. She, a medical officer, had taken down THE cornerstone of the Empire!

This was nothing compared to the sheer dread that washed over her as the High General slowly got back up.

“Frigates!” Was all she could think to say.

Slowly, he turned, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, while shielding his eyes with another as he traced the trajectory of the bullet.

But she was already gone.

Legs still numb from all the doses she had taken, Elanor slid down the steel pylon she had been hiding atop for days. She cursed herself, for thinking it would have been that easy.

Whatever the General was, his people looked like they could be naturally bulletproof long before you accounted for his dark magic power. And he wouldn’t need to use any of those powers, she realized as an entire control panel went flying overhead, to squash a medical officer like a bug.

Elanor slid beneath a metal arch, just barely dodging the control panel. She jumped back up and kept running as there was a massive crashing behind her: the General was in pursuit.

He leaped straight over one of the massive engines, pinpointing the would-be shooter while mid air. He landed, leaving a crater in the ground, and sprinted forwards into a ruined starfighter.

His bodyslam sent it flying through the wreckage, right at Elanor. She dived through a doorway into a part of intact ship, charging into it’s black depths.

“Frigates, frigates frigates-!”

She wasn’t in the dark for long, as the floor beneath her suddenly gave way and spilled her back onto the ground outside. The terrible clanging and banging above her told her Absalom had followed her inside.

Maybe this was her chance.

Elanor spotted an armored vehicle and jumped into the back seat, spinning around and training her rifle on the corridor she had fallen out of.

For a second, there was no noise but her own heartbeat (now pounding freely). Then the top of the ship exploded as Absalom came leaping out.

She took three shots, but each missed by a hair. Absalom spotted her muzzle flashes and grabbed one of the sheets of metal he had sent flying, tossing it in her direction.

It slammed into the vehicle, just as Elanor was making for the front, propelling her forwards and painfully through the windshield.

She managed to find her feet and started running again. But there was another crash and Absalom burst through a wall in front of her, flexing all four of his massive arms as he stared down his prey.

She fired another shot, but he blocked it with a stray bit of ship, which he then threw at her.

She was backpedaling, barely ducking the projectile and dropping her rifle.

She fumbled through her pack, desperately trying to find her stun rod or an explosive, as the monster bore down on her.

He was there! He couldn’t be stopped! She was dead!

… She was going to be sick.

Elanor Rrivers threw up on Absalom’s boots.








Absalom stared disapprovingly at the enemy medic.

“You… are with child?” He asked.

Elanor, wrapped in a survival blanket and sitting in what was left of a bridge chair, nodded.

Suddenly being sick turned out to be the one thing the High General hadn’t been expecting. He was examining her own wrist-pad’s readings on her.

“Is your army truly so utterly desperate and PATHETIC that it’s best soldiers are mothers?” Absalom snarled.

“They didn’t know” Elanor explained. “Heck, I didn’t know! It was shore leave, couple months ago. We got married and… I didn’t know.”

“Irresponsible” Absalom commented, tossing the pad back to her. “Were you in my army, you would be court-martialed on the spot.”

“Mine too” Elanor admitted. “But… we’re losing the war. We really didn’t expect to live long enough for it to matter.”

Absalom snorted at this.

“A soldier who thinks he will lose already has” He warned. “Who is the father?”

Elanor hesitated, but figured it really couldn’t hurt.

“Captain Light” She said. “Candle... Light?”

She trailed off, as the High General had once again surprised her. His eyes had actually grown wide at the mention of that name.

“Captain Light!” He exclaimed. “Should fate twist my mind, stranding me with my rival’s lover?”

“Candle?” Elanor shook her head. “He’s just a captain, of a recon ship no less. You must be-”

“I am NOT mistaken” Absalom interrupted. “I have studied his missions, his tactics, and he is my one legitamate equal in your ranks.”

“Our commanders thinks he’s nuts” Elanor said, shocked by this creature’s interest in her husband. “A wild card.”

“Precisely” Absalom nodded. “This war is my carefully orchestrated chess game. And he’s playing checkers! I can only imagine what a child of you two will be like.”

Elanor grew uncomfortable as the High General stopped pacing back and forth and slowly fixed her with a calculating stare.

“Although perhaps I do NOT have to imagine it.”








Elanor was fairly certain that she was going to have the strangest midwife in the history of the Galaxy.

As it turned out, he was out scouting islands when the baby came. The grandkids would just have to live without that particular story.








A month later, something that closely resembled a house had been built out of the starship’s remains. Elanor sat outside, softly singing to her son, as she watched Absalom enter the valley.

He was dragging the head of what looked like the living island she had seen months before behind him.

Thankfully leaving it behind, the High General approached her home. To say he still made her uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Is it finished?” He asked as way of hello.

“Yes” She replied curtly. “But it’s no good. We’d have to be in a completely other hemisphere to get a signal out your people won’t intercept.”

“Then we will go there” Absalom said simply. “He is old enough to travel?”

“I... suppose” She reluctantly agreed.

“Hesitation does not become your kind” Absalom warned. “The birth of your child was just as much a feat worthy of respect as any number of enemies slain, even ignoring the fact that you are the first in years to land a shot on me. Prepare yourselves: We will still only have six hours of daylight to travel by.”

Elanor shook her head as he walked off. Exploring an alien world with the greatest enemy of freedom the starways had ever known and her month-old son.



What could possibly go wrong?