In the 10,000 year war going on throughout the universe, there are too many who despise Zarkon's rule. But none will act on their hate, too scared of the consequences. The biggest rebelling force against the Galra to date are the Olympians. And thei...
Flashbacks are in italics. There are mostly flashbacks in this.
Also, no, Trip is not British.
At least not in my mind! Imagine her how you want to!!
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"Tripella," her mother spoke as softly as she always did when the cell was so crowded, "you know I love you, don't you?"
Her voice was so soft it was like she was trying to keep her words between the two of them. In a cell so small full of 27 people and 2 lifeless bodies, nothing was private. Your thoughts were shared because others thought the same things, your personal space was everyone's space. But the way her mother spoke, it was like they had a small bubble that belonged to them. Like no one else could hear the words said.
"I love you too, mama." The six-year-old girl said sleepily. She clutched her only toy in her weak fist. The old elephant was as dirty as she was.
Trip was curled into her mother's chest to make room for the leather-skinned alien man that was pressed against the wall beside them. There was hardly enough leg room for everyone, so if a child could be moved around to make more then they would be. And no doubt that, soon, another prisoner would be shoved in with them.
Trip's mother felt the ribs of her daughter through the scrap shirt she wore. It made her throat close up.
This wasn't the life they were supposed to have. She wasn't supposed to give birth in prison or raise her in the dark with barely enough food to live. She wanted Trip to know sunlight and to run in the sand of the beaches on earth, maybe with a dog that Charlie talked her into getting. She deserved a normal childhood. Not the one she was getting.
"We're gonna get out of here, peanut." She says even quieter than before to her, "we're gonna go home someday soon."
The tears that had permanently made a home in her eyes began to slide down her hollow cheeks. She may have said it a lot, but she never believed it. Six years in the same tiny cell. Nothing could ever make her believe it. But she wanted Trip to.
"You'll see me and your dads house." Tripella listened intently, "you'll see the rest of your family. Grandma and grandpa. Aunt Tessa. Uncle Ryan."
Tripella lifts her head of matted, curly brown hair to look at her mothers face through the dark. Her small fists held onto her stuffed toy like it would be ripped away at any moment. It wasn't seen, but her brown eyes were wide in wonder. The names of her family members were familiar to her, but she couldn't put faces to them. She could hardly put a face to the name mama.
"Can you tell me about it again?" She asks in a whisper, "and about daddy?"
Her mother sent an unseen watery smile in her direction. Her hand blindly reached up to stroke her dirty hair, "of course, peanut."
