"Attention: Go back in your homes. This area is officially under quarantine for suspected presence of dangerous chemicals. This is not a drill."
The man's voice was loud, resounding. The sight was something like a war zone -- which, of course, this planet had been, just a few hours ago. Rubble in the streets, ashes everywhere. Children crying. Currently, a tank was driving down Road 493, better known as Maple Lane Avenue. From this tank, a single man, well armoured with a small, black device -- a voice amplifier -- was telling people to get back in doors, which they kindly did. Behind the tank, to help encourage the people, were what must have been a hundred men armoured with ZPAA equipment, marching in step.
This was the new normal for the Zarethians.
Inside the tank, there were three other men.
"My God," one said. "What the hell have we come to?"
"The brink of the end of our civilization," the other replied.
"This isn't right. The war's over. This isn't how it should be."
"What did you expect? A finish line? A medal? Just keep your head down and do your job."
"Right... But... terrorists? Really? We finish kicking these Revenge guys' asses, and now, we have to deal with this? What the hell is wrong on this planet?"
"Something terrible," the other replied, "Something... very... very... terrible."
15.2 Miles Away
_REFUGEE CAMP ECHO
CENTRAL COURTHOUSE RUINS
The central courthouse had been hit hard. The entire district around it had -- much worse than most areas on the planet. There were only a few buildings left in sight. Bodies littered what had once been streets. Blood coated what had once been concrete. There was some effort to organize the madness currently ongoing -- bodies being sorted, attempts to identify them. A small area outside the courthouse itself had largely been cleared of debris to make way for tents. A camp had been set up here to aid those who needed it, and it was quickly becoming a huge camp -- a place to go for those who's homes had been destroyed, those who needed medical supplies.
And more importantly... Those who needed hope.
Inside a hospital tent, anyone with medical training -- and many without -- flurried around trying to help the dying. On one particular stretcher, there was a woman, eyes closed... And then, they opened. Taking in the surroundings. Trying, desperate, so desperate, to understand what was happening -- what had happened -- what was going to happen. Trying. Trying.
Kveta Kauliya was alive. And awake. Glancing down, she could see that she was still dressed in her military uniform. She hadn't been military, of course, until... Well... A few hours ago. Every able soul had been needed -- to help fight. She suspected they would return her status to civilian now that the war was over. But then, she kind of liked the ring of Lieutenant Kveta Kauliya. It helped to have friends in high p-
She shot up straight in the bed, and a nearby medic quickly came to calm her down.
"Ma'am, you're recovering from a gunshot wound. Please, you have to be still, or you'll tear your stitches!"
"My friend! The man I was travelling with! Did he make it?"
The woman looked down at her clipboard, searching. "Patient Number 4991... Um... I'm sorry, ma'am. There must be some kind of mistake. You were found alone. Your vehicle was ambushed. There was nobody else in the vehicle. What was his name? I can -"
"That's okay," Kveta replied, swinging her legs around to the side of the bed and standing.
"Ma'am, you need to -"
"Thank you for your help," Kveta cut the woman off, "Keep up the good work. History will remember people like you as heroes in the aftermath of this tragedy."
And with that, Kveta walked away.
BALEVILLE CITY; 200 MILES EAST OF THE CAPITAL CITY
MARION-ABBY SPACEPORT
EMERGENCY OFF-WORLD DOCKING
From all over the galaxy, and beyond, help was arriving by the shiploads. The space over Tefillin was immaculate, with ship upon ship of so many different nationalities, everywhere. From each of those hundreds of ships, smaller landing crafts were being deployed, and many were landing at the Marion-Abby Spaceport, where emergency docking had been set up for relief effort volunteers. It was one hell of a sight. It was help.
"FRC, this is Kappa Epsilon Fate Niner, Bird 112, requesting permission to dock."
"112, this is flight control, you have clearance to dock in hangar Charlie, dock 4. I repeat -- hangar Charlie, dock 4. Over."
"Understood, flight control. You have no idea how good it is to hear you guys are alive down there."
"Yeah, we're just glad to see help coming so quickly. Watch your landing. Our auto-docking systems are down, so it's a real bitch."
As the K Empire transport bird number 112 glided into it's designated hangar bay, Shane Mikein felt like he was in a daze. Just a few hours ago, he'd been on the verge of death on a Narrikian planet as it neared it's final moments. Now, he was here... Alive. Working with a K Empire humanitarian group. On Tefillin. His life, over the last couple of hours, had been hell -- and now he was entering the left-behind ruins of a war zone. This was not what he'd imagined he'd be doing today when he woke up.
And as, minutes later, he and the rest of the team he was travelling with rode away from the space-port in a large jeep, he found himself looking out in the distance... Thinking. Wondering.
"The entire planet's under martial law," he heard one K Empire relief worker say, "Everyone make sure they have their ID's ready. We're going to be hitting quite a few checkpoints."
What the hell had happened?