This one was for a contest and it had to be under 2000 words. VERY hard to be elaborate in such a limit, but I’m really happy about the way this one came out.

This is also part of a future story I will write. Unfortunately, this short story is the very end of it so it will spoil the entire plot for everyone else I will force to read it one day. p

Plz review!

Kree

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -

True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.

-Arthur Ashe

She could have left. She could have left her friends, the Earth, this entire mass of problems behind. She could have gotten a tremendous head start in her flight as a hunted animal. Most importantly, she could have chosen to live.

Life was so simple when all she had to worry about was herself. She could do what she pleased, go where she wanted, and care about the welfare of one person alone. Why concern herself with the suffering and conflicts of others? Why defend a place that wasn't even her home? What was it to her if the Humans were taken over as slaves by Fakapi? All that should have mattered was that she was safe and she was content. This was, after all, how she lived the past five years of her life, looking out for her own hide and not wasting a thought on another.

But here she was, crawling across the rusted, gray radiator hanging high above the ground, six or seven feet below the slanted ceiling of the abandoned warehouse. Here she was, in the mold and dust, the soam-wave bomb in her blistered fingers, clinging onto the sides of the makeshift bridge with her life. The poison sprinted through her veins, bursts of electricity enflaming her body. The Matra poison Fakapi had injected into her neck was a simple substance, yet ingenious. The closer she got to the Matra power core, located in the center of the warehouse, the more pain would be inflicted on her body. It just so happened she was in the room where the core was situated. The poison was draining her energy in huge amounts as she moved across the radiator. The pain throbbed within her muscles and seared against her flesh, but she reluctantly forced herself forward.

She was going to die, whether or not she succeeded.

Her strength was failing her and so were her powers. She could barely drag herself across the elevated surface nor could she muster up the strength to fly. Her power of flight would have proved advantageous in her hazardous situation. The stealthy, catlike movements she usually took transformed into cumbersome clambering. She refused to breathe in fear of her presence being noticed by the villain below her.

Fakapi stood with his arms crossed, his back turned; a most fortunate stance, in her opinion. He too, like her, was not of this planet, but they did not share the same origins. She could easily pass for a Human but certain Rephus characteristics made him stand out in this foreign world. His skin was lined with tiny dark blue scales, each one overlapping the other to create a hypnotizing mosaic. The light glissaded across the glistening emptiness on the top of his head, even with the dim illumination the few electric lights provided. Two black beads were strung into his irises, matching the grim dark colored garments he currently wore. He planted his two feet in front of three figures held back by pale, colorless creatures wiith indefinite, ghostlike form. The three prisoners were indeed, her friends, the people she had been about to abandon.

To the right was a girl with gray eyes, for her namesake, Grey Crossley. Grey was the very first person to reach out to her when she landed on this unusual planet. Her left sleeve was haphazardly torn up, fresh blood bubbling to the surface of the slash across her arm. For the first time, she saw that Grey held an expression of utter desperation and had given into defeat.

To Grey's left was a teenager, dark brown tresses falling down to his shoulders. The color of his eyes was identical to the shade of his hair and filled to the brim with a resignation she could not recognize. The boy, Graham Mondello, had an infamous reputation of arrogance, and was often quite irritating. However, she would prefer to see Graham's overwhelming confidence at this moment. It would have been a comfort to her if one of the hardest people she knew had not yet withdrew from the battle they faced.

Finally, her eyes rested on Blaine Bin-Marvey, a fellow Sacian, captain of Arbiai, an intergalactic police organization, and the disowned son of the Sacian governor. Two gems of jade shone with hope he had long forsaken as he caught sight of the girl on the radiator, holding up the soam bomb in her hand. Relieved to have captured his attention, she prepared to make an attempt to chuck the bomb to the very center and the tallest point of the warehouse. All Blaine had to do was twist the detonator jewel that hung around his neck…

In one graceful movement, Fakapi spun around, his coat, a whirlpool of leather. He drew a small handgun from the side of his belt and simultaneously to this horrific ballet, he aimed for her shoulder, his pointer finger, playing god for a quarter of a second. He had released a small piece of destruction. The bullet somersaulted through the air until it ripped through her flesh and found home in her muscle. The bomb made its sly subterfuge from her fingers and she lost track of it moments later. She fell slowly like a wounded bird, her flimsy limbs swaying slightly. The impact would have killed a Human, for she had fallen nearly sixty feet, but she, a Sacian, survived the terrible blow that left her begging for the end. The captured crew of three cried out as they watched her mangled and bruised body remain motionless for a few seconds. Her eyes were trapped in a darkness seeming more and more like a haven as she felt herself fading away.

“Well, well, well, you still couldn’t find the sense to escape me when you had the chance.” Fakapi’s laughter was the venom that snatched her from the few seconds of security she found. He grabbed the collar of her shirt and raised her up above the ground. She couldn’t even bring her hands up to his arm to yank it away. There was not much life left in her.

“You’re forgetting, Fakapi,” she choked, forcing a small and hoarse sound from her throat. Her field of vision was no larger than slits, but she still managed to look him in the eye. “I love you too much to ever leave you.”

“And this is how you repay me after all that I’ve done for you? I took you in after you killed your parents and raised you to become the most infamous assassin in the entire universe. I was practically a father to you!” he roared, and then suddenly composed himself, a pleasant smile deceiving his true nature. “So why did you come back to die? I know you too well, my dear. You are not one to be playing hero. Why return to a pitiful death of the Matra effect?”

“I refuse to die a hunted animal,” she grit her teeth, a strand of ebony hair falling beside her cheek. “And I wanted one more good laugh at your face.”

Fakapi dropped her and pushed her vigorously away. It was a wonder she didn’t crumble to her knees. He pulled a long, silver sword from a golden sheathe by his left thigh. “So this is how the terrible Nitara Nyna meets her end. At the hands of her mentor and the future emperor of Earth. Draw your blades, Nitara. I have a feeling you’ll be needing them.”

She reluctantly did so, drawing the two daggers from her belt. The onyx colored blades felt heavy in her hands. How could she fight? She was losing blood at a rapid rate and the poison continued to drain her. Nitara could die solely by standing still for a few minutes more.

But Fakai’s blade came at her, and she dodged it just in time. The sword sliced the air and her daggers every time, failing to quench its appetite of blood. Left and right, forward and back, Fakapi drove her with his ravaging weapon to the music of metal until he kicked her in the shin and she could hardly support herself any longer. The blue scaled man took advantage of her staggered position and lunged towards the weakened girl. One of Nitara’s daggers slipped, letting his sword tear into the side of her chest.

She did not remember hitting the ground, nor could she decipher the shouts and screams of her companions. The pain was unbearable, like razors impaling her sides continuously. Her bruised cheek was pressed against the cold floor, her eyes flickering and dying out like a fire. She had had enough; she wanted to die.

"Get up and fight," she heard Fakapi leer in the background, but what was the point? It was over, there was nothing she could do, and Fakapi won. The return had been in vain and Earth was a lost cause.

"Get up, Nitara," but this time, it wasn't Fakapi's voice: it was one in her head that broke through all the others and finally reached her at this crucial point. "You aren’t a murderer anymore. You are Nitara Nyna. Are you ready to play hero?"

Nitara hadn't even noticed that she was suddenly standing, steadfast and defiant as her vision focused on Fakapi. And that's when she smiled, an expression that made Fakapi's blood run cold as she took one forward step. "Blaine!" she screamed picking up the small soam bomb a few feet away from where she was standing. She thrust it into the air like a frisbee towards the center and tallest point of the warehouse. Blaine twisted the detonator gem around his neck with perfect timing as it soared into the air.

The creatures vanished in an eye blink but everyone could swear that they heard muffled shrieks echoing throughout the building. Blaine drew his tranquilizer gun instantaneously to his moment of sudden freedom and shot the missile at the blue scaled alien. He dropped to the ground before he could moan in defeat. At the same time, the poor Sacian girl had nothing left to keep her going. She too, fell to the floor shortly after Fakapi. Her three friends rushed to her side, Grey clasping the hand of her ailing companion. Tears easily made their way out from her gray irises and down her pale cheeks.

"Nitara, you can't die..." she cried. "No, you can't die...."

"Grey," Nitara murmured crossly, "I'm going to die."

"But you saved us! You saved everyone!" Oh no. Nitara didn't need another one of Grey's hero speeches... not when she was on the brink of death. She knew one would come anyway as Grey wiped a tear with the end of her sleeve. "You're a hero, Nitara."

"I'm no hero," she scowled to the best of her ability. "I was about to leave all of you."

"But here you are, dying for all of us," Graham said softly. "I think that's about as good as a hero can be defined."

Nitara swallowed, blinking back the persisting tears that wanted freedom in the atmosphere. "Well," she choked out with a small smile, "if I'm a hero, I certainly am a strange one, and Grey, as you know," she hesitated, her voice solemn and quiet, "heroes often die."

Grey smiled back, her eyes wet with tears. "Get some sleep, Nitara. I'll see you in the morning," Grey squeezed her hand.

"Yep," she said, finally closing her eyes. "See you all in the morning."