Prologue
It has been one hundred years since we devastated the planet of the humans. And though they fought with honor against us, they still lost. It was a victory for our kind but it did not last. Ammon, the traitor is the one who aided them in the war, but only after his capture. And because of his betrayal we turned to a new leader, but in the end he was also defeated.
Ammon preached to us, asking us to give up our fight and join forces with the humans instead. He told us they could provide us with a new way of life, and we'd never have to fight again. His words were virtuous to our ears and so we listened, and even helped the humans leave their world and find a new place to call home.
They built a great city, a temple to their god if they had one. And we helped them build it. Peace, as they called it, was what we believed we had achieved. But peace was a lie. The human army were the only ones to accept us Tjatey, but the others still hated us very much. They wished death and suffering upon us. They found a new leader and we still had Ammon. Their leader they called Morane, showed no fear in his hatred towards us. He incited the violence and hate against our people. Ammon and the human army, did nothing but swear an oath to keep us locked within their fences. For we were not permitted to leave and explore their great temple. We were to remain trapped, working as slaves for the human army.
Ammon was a fool to call this a better life for us. And because of his foolishness he has perished from illness. The others mourn but I do not. He was not the last of his bloodline, for his daughter had a son that carries him now. A half-breed called William, but he too is a traitor. He feels shame for who he is and looks down on his true people, while worshiping our enemy. I feel shame as well, and I grow tired of working as a slave for these humans. I fear if we do not act soon and reclaim our place as true warriors of these savages, then all will be lost. The one called William is our last chance, but will he join us? I fear we may be too late. He already seems poisoned by the humans.
But should he refuse to join us, we will fight the humans anyway. Our god is starving and it is time that we once again, spill their blood in his name.
It was the year 4000, and the intergalactic metropolis of Atlantis City was teeming with busy civilians who crowded the sidewalks and streets of the city of eternal night. Most of the populace were typical thrill seekers, looking for their next high, either in the form of gambling, alcohol, sex, or drugs. But since it was close to midnight, most of the major businesses and big casinos saw the most activity, while smaller establishments, particularly those within the old downtown area, had but a smattering of patrons. And one such place was a little old dump of a building known as The Card Shack, where civilians came to drink, socialize, or watch one of the joint's rigged games.
But on this night, there wasn't any big game happening, yet that didn't seem to deter a young loner named Brian Smith, who was seated at the bar all by himself smoking a cigarette. You could tell just by looking at him that he had closed himself off to the rest of this world. He was normally quiet, wearing the same black leather jacket every night, with a light green dress shirt underneath, and a pair of dark pants. And while he had a rather boyish look about him, there were large dark circles under his weary looking blue eyes caused by an obvious lack of sleep, and yet he seemed so calm but unfocused, staring off into space as though he were lost inside his mind.
"What'll it be this time?" The dark haired bartender named Enrique asked him, finally breaking the awkward silence between them.
"Water, same as always," Brian answered avoiding any eye contact for the moment.
"Okay, coming up," Enrique replied, before turning to grab a glass off one of the shelves behind him.
Brian sat hunched over the countertop with his elbows resting on its surface as he waited, seemingly lost in thought, until he heard a splattering sound coming directly behind him, as though someone had just spilled their drink on the old brown carpet. There was a moment of silence before Brian heard a panicked drunk man mumble, "Oops!"
And standing not far from them, was the short-tempered manager of the Card Shack himself, Maxwell Graham. He too had apparently witnessed the patron's little accident, and gnashed his teeth in rage as he stormed over, pointing his finger accusingly at the shocked drunk man.
"You bloody idiot, look what you've done!"
Brian had only received his glass of water moments before Maxwell started sounding off, startling him in the process. But in that moment the only thing he could do was cover his ears and groan.
"You see that mess?" Maxwell exclaimed in outrage, pointing out the large red stain on the carpeted floor. "That's all because of you! Why, I ought to have your head for this!"
Curiosity then got the best of Brian, and he dared to look behind him. There he could see a poor looking sap of a man with a green suit and black slicked back hair being chewed out by a tall lanky man in a purple vest and slacks with a pointed nose, and his long dark gray hair worn in a ponytail. Brian couldn't help but feel the drunk man must have felt extremely embarrassed in that moment, being terrorized by one of the most hated men in all of Atlantis City. Whatever reputation he had was surely gone now.
Brian soon lost interest in their quarrel and turned back around. He could already see the dread on Enrique's face as he looked back at him. The bartender's wide green eyes had grown even wider, as though he knew the worst was yet to come.
"It wasn't me," the frightened drunk man suddenly belt out, as though it were last ditch effort to defend himself, as well as stand up to that peon of a manager.
"Oh, so it wasn't you?" Maxwell remarked with sarcasm. "Oh of course it wasn't, it had to have been some other bumbling idiot standing before me, isn't that right?"
He narrowed his eyes and pointed to the door, while the man began to run for it. "Get out!" Maxwell chased after him.
Brian shook his head. Maybe it's your fault for having carpeting in a bar in the first place? Out of all the bars that I have been to, I've never seen a single carpeted floor in any of them. People spill their drinks, accidents happen, just look at you.
The thought of telling that to Maxwell's face was tempting, but Brian knew that would only get him kicked out of this place for good. After all, he wasn't the type to openly speak out against someone he didn't like, probably because he knew he could say the wrong thing to the wrong person and end up with a split lip or broken jaw.
"You must get tired of that," Brian couldn't help but comment then. "And what I mean is, listening to Maxwell yell like that all day. It must get old, right?"
Enrique sighed. "Well for once it isn't me he's yelling at."
"I guess that's one way of looking at it?" Brian turned and looked over his shoulder and spotted a couple of AMF soldiers seated at a booth against the wall, looking to be playing a game of blackjack.
"You ever get tired of the soldiers who come here all the time too?" Brian couldn't resist asking, not even caring if those soldiers overheard him during their game.
"Maxwell hates them, but I don't mind," Enrique answered. "They're banned from the main city you know? Pretty much confined to the downtown area near the base, so they do come here a lot to escape, and to tell you the truth I kind of feel sorry for them."
Brian furrowed his brow. "Well I don't," he said. "I think they deserve it. They've done nothing but side with the enemy. Not to mention they're the reason we don't live on Earth anymore."
Enrique felt speechless. "That sounds a tad harsh, don't you think?" He remarked as he began wiping the counter down.
Brian said nothing more and took another drag of his cigarette.
"But you too seem to come here often," Enrique continued. "What's your excuse?"
Brian shrugged. "It's close to where I live?"
But Brian wasn't known for telling the truth either. He just didn't feel like telling the naïve bartender about the real reason he carried so much hate for the military.
Enrique shook his head. "No, I think there's more to it. There's another reason you come here all the time, but I don't think you even know the answer to that. Something must draw you here, maybe a past memory? Or even something you refuse to let go of."
Brian suddenly put out his cigarette watching as the tiny embers burned out.
"Like I said, it's close to where I live," Brian repeated. "I don't like to stray too far from home these days. It's not safe."
Enrique still felt skeptical about it, and rightly so, but seeing how defensive Brian had reacted, was enough to tell him the subject wasn't worth getting into. He had a feeling it would only lead to hurt on Brian's end.
Then they both froze once Maxwell's yelling unexpectedly started up again, followed by the sound of a slamming door. "And stay out!" They heard him shouting at the top of his lungs.
Enrique sighed and went back to tidying up the bar, hoping to finish his shift soon and get home.
Brian looked over his shoulder again and noticed the two AMF soldiers were still busy playing their game, as though they weren't at all bothered by the fact they were nothing but traitors to their own people. You're lucky I'm not out for revenge, Brian thought callously then, before he turned his attention back to the busy bartender.
"You mind telling me why you stay here?" Brian had to ask.
Enrique finished putting away the last of the clean shot glasses. "Because it pays fairly well," he answered. "And because Victoria Thompson hired me."
Brian arched his brows in surprise. "The actress?"
Enrique nodded. "Yeah, her. She ran into me about a month ago on the streets and saw that I was looking for work. I told her I'd do anything and that my mother and siblings were starving. So then she pulled me aside and told me her agent owns a bar and lounge and that I would be perfect for the job. She hired me on the spot and told me not to worry about Maxwell. I guess she must have bribed him or something, but either way she was the one who pulled the strings for me and made this happen. For that I am truly grateful to her."
Brian sounded even more surprised. "So, you're telling me she hired you even though you've never been a bartender before?"
Enrique nodded. "Well, I've worked as a busboy in the past, but you're right I've never been a bartender before. Although I have to admit it did come quite natural to me. I'm a fast learner, always have been. By the way, can I get you more water?"
"No, that's alright," Brian replied. "I think I'm heading back home anyway."
"You know the streets will never be safe as long as Morane rules this city?" Enrique mentioned hoping to get across to him somehow. "He's the one who allows all these criminals to roam freely, and then turns around and criticizes the military for doing the right thing. Say what you will about them, but the AMF would've never allowed this kind of corruption. Doesn't matter if they sided with the aliens or not. We would've been much better off if they still had control over the city."
All Brian could do now was give him a blank stare, not knowing how to respond, or how to come across without sounding like a jerk. The only thing he knew is what he himself believed, and there was no way in hell this young bartender was going to change his mind.
"I'm leaving now," Brian said abruptly as he slid off the bar stool and headed for the exit.
"Well then, have a good rest of your night," Enrique called after him hoping one of these days he'd have a change of heart.
Once outside, Brian instantly felt a sense of relief, but that's how it usually was when it came to being around other people. The loner in him could only tolerate them for so long until he couldn't. Not to mention he didn't care to listen to any more of Maxwell's yelling and bitching. He was worse than a woman, and Brian knew it was only a matter of time before Maxwell turned his anger and frustration onto the poor bartender, as he often did. Brian had already witnessed this a few times and with the way he was feeling now he just couldn't handle it, otherwise he might as well go off on Maxwell himself.
Yet that was a bad idea all around, as it was well known that Maxwell always carried a loaded revolver hidden in his vest. But of course Brian had only found out the few times Maxwell had actually pulled out the weapon and chased some annoying patrons out of the building. Little did Maxwell know that those same disgruntled individuals, who were usually men, would carry out their revenge by pissing on the side of the building. Brian had also been privy to this as well. Although he knew it wasn't any secret that the Card Shack had become something of a public toilet for hoboes and loiterers alike. After all Maxwell had quite an obsessive compulsive tick about cleanliness and being organized, so it wasn't any surprise that that the Card Shack didn't even have a single bathroom. And while this may have prevented the place from looking like even more of a dump, it also forced a lot of his business elsewhere. But Brian didn't think he was too dumb he couldn't figure that one out. Then again, he was pretty dumb so it probably never registered to begin with. How typical.
While tempted to light another cigarette, Brian decided it was best to leave the premises first, less he have to stick around long enough to smell that stale urine smell once he spotted the man Maxwell had chased out earlier, about to angrily mark his territory on the side of the building as most usually did.
Pulling a disgusted face, Brian headed down the steps of the building and onto the main sidewalk which stretched on for several blocks. Already he could smell the difference in the air once he'd gotten far enough away, and how refreshing it was. Although he knew it wasn't smart to stick around this area for too long, as the downtown area of the city was well known for its crime infestation, and you were always a minute away from getting mugged or even killed if the perpetrators didn't like you or they were simply having an off day. But of course this was just one of many reasons why Brian preferred to be by himself.
Nobody could really be trusted in his eyes and it was better to keep them at a safe distance. Everyone was a sinner and always had something to hide. This is what he believed, although he wasn't the least bit religious. But he knew there were a lot of backstabbers in this city, who were probably taking after the city council leader himself. Brian also assumed that's where people's lack of morals came from as well. Morane wasn't the best of influences, especially on a population so impressionable and desperate to pretend they weren't living on some planetoid in the vastness of space. Ah space, Brian thought. Now that was something difficult to wrap your head around at times, but that's where the last of humanity had been residing after the war. Well save for those who had refused to leave their home planet because they would have rather died than given the Tjatey a chance to do good. And now Brian had to wonder if those people had even survived after they got left behind.
Maybe they had the right idea? He wondered as he suddenly came across a lone bench located near the entrance of a strip mall, and sat down to light a cigarette. Truth be known Brian wasn't any angel and he too had sinned like the rest of the citizens, only his sin was merely the hatred he felt towards the AMF and any of their supporters. And while Brian didn't know if such a god even existed, he knew that god wouldn't be the least bit happy with him and all the suffering he's wished on those men and women. But Brian had his reasons for feeling this way, and it was nothing but a secret he'd kept to himself because in his mind it was just better this way. He had nobody but himself and he was fine with that.