I’m twelve years old and the Prince is fifteen. He’s a teenager, and him and his friends are old enough to go out into the Empire, go out to the lower planets of the galaxy, and enforce their rule. Enforce the will of the Empire with a firm, unyielding, brutal hand. He’s old enough to do his part to ensure that the Empire rules forever. And I’m old enough to go along with him and be whatever he needs. 

The Prince is excited. The Prince is incredibly excited. He can’t wait to spill blood. To spill the blood of monsters and cause destruction in his wake. He had always loved violence in a blunt, brutal fashion that was at once undeniably elegant and completely lacking in any grace. And now, finally, he can unleash his violence out into the world, he can cause the death that he has been longing to cause ever since he was young. 

The Prince’s friends are with him, along with his warrior girlfriend who is just as brutal and bloodthirsty as he is. They make an amazing pair. A terrifying pair. All battle and blood and violence, made manifest in flesh, in word and in deed. The world will tremble and cower before them one day. And, looking at them now, that day seems to be coming soon. 

I feel so incredibly small. And I am incredibly small. Skinny and scrawny compared to all of their muscle and bulk. Compared to their weapons and their glory and their finely-tuned, deadly-tuned battle abilities. I have nothing compared to that. And, I am acutely aware of just how much danger I am truly in, just how much I have to make sure that I do whatever they say. 

“We’ll make those savages pay!” the redhead friend declares. 

“We will,” the Prince bellows, “even if we have to start a war to do it.”

“They should have considered our power before creating a resistance.” The girlfriend smiles. 

I am sitting on the ground of the spaceship, my arm inside a magic extractor that is hooked up to all the weapons the Prince and his friends have brought along with them. I am charging them, so that they will be at full power when it’s time to finally unleash them on the resistance members. 

It hurts. Of course it hurts, charging these weapons. It hurts each and every time that energy is extracted from me. My arm feels as if it is on fire. It feels as if it is burning from the inside out, from the outside in, and from every direction there is. I half want to just cut it off, not that I have any way to do that. But still, despite all of the hurt, I try not to listen to the conversation of the masters. It always hurts even more, to have to listen to them. 

Yet despite my best efforts, their conversation still pierces my ears. And I have to sit here silent, silent, always silent as they talk on around me. 

“I wonder why the savages thought they could make a resistance?” the light-brown-haired friend asks, “shouldn’t they know we could quash it in seconds?”

“They’re stupid, my brother,” the dark-brown-haired friend replies, “they’re stupid and they’re always thinking things that don’t make any sense, making plans that are unreasonable.” 

I once again am reminded of how incredibly small, how incredibly scrawny and skinny I am compared to them. 

———

I am trailing behind the group, carrying their extra weapons, as they stride through the streets. This is the first time I have been off the Home Planet. Well, the first time that I can remember. I know that I was born off planet. I know that I was born actually on this very same planet that we are on now. This very same planet that we are beating into submission. 

The streets are much narrower here than on the Home Planet. The Prince’s group of warriors have to walk in two rows. The streets are also dusty. So very dusty. The dust is a strange deep brown colour that makes it almost beautiful. Not that anything about the Lower Planets is beautiful. All around the streets are dilapidated shacks made of crumbling clay, with thin sheets of metal on their roofs. It’s rather sad. 

The Prince gets to a shack with a broken door. 

“This is the one,” he states as he kicks down the door. 

I catch a glimpse of the people inside through the small crowd in front of me. They look terrified. They look bedraggled. They look half-starved. Their eyes speak of a hunger beyond all words, and a weariness beyond all comprehension. They are scared. They are so very scared. And yet that fear cannot possibly come close to the fear that I have felt all of my life. 

“Where are the resistance members?!” the Prince’s red-haired friend demands. 

“Who?” a dark-eyed monster woman asks in broken Tirifian. She has skin as purple-dark as my own. They all do. 

“The resistance members,” the Prince’s girlfriend presses, “where are they?”

“We don’t know of any resistance,” a young-looking girl speaks out slowly. 

“Galking cavnish!” the Prince rages. “Like Hell you don’t!” 

“I promise, your highness,” the girl asservates, “we don’t.”

“That’s not what our sources say,” the light brown-haired friend states coldly. There is the sharp edge of pure hatred in his voice. 

“I’m sorry,” a man pleads, “we don’t know anything.” 

What are these fools doing? Why are they not giving the Prince and his friends what they want? Are they idiots? Do they not know what this group is capable of? The death and the violence and the punishment that they will face from them? Do they not know what the penalties are for disobeying them? For disobeying the Empire, which the Prince is the chosen heir of? Do they not know how much danger they are in? 

I feel bad for these monsters. I feel bad even though I know that I should not feel bad. Even though I know that it’s not my place. Monsters do not deserve pity. Especially monsters who are defiant, who go against the wishes of the Empire. I know this. I know all this yet. Yet. There is something inside of me that cannot stop feeling bad for these people, that cannot stop feeling dread at the horrible fate that undoubtedly awaits them. 

They are … I could easily have been them. I could easily have been in their place. If the Emperor had not decided to have mercy upon me and take me into the Home Planet instead of leaving me to die in this accursed land, then I could easily have been one of the people in this room, showing both incredible fear and inexplicable courage in the face of the Prince and his friends. 

They do not give up. Even though the warriors yell at them and threaten them with all kinds of horrors, the monsters do not give up. I am in awe of their bravery, as much as I am perturbed by it. How are they doing it? Perhaps it is because they are all together. Perhaps it is because they all have each other to take strength and inspiration from. Perhaps, if I had people behind me, if I had people supporting me, I could be as brave. 

“You will tell us!” shouts the Prince, “You will tell us or you will be sorry that you ever dared to cross us!”

———

I am in pain. I am often in pain. But right now it does not matter that I am in pain. Right now it matters that the monster in front of me is in pain. 

She is shackled to the dark metal prison hold of the spaceship. There are wires connecting to her neck, her chest, her stomach. Her hands are tied up above her and her feet are tied up below her, so that she is left hanging in the centre of the chains, body stretched to its limits. My heart pangs at seeing the sheer humiliation that she is being put through, never mind the pain. 

Pain that I am responsible for. 

Pain that only exists because I am sitting on the ground of the prison compartment, covered in wires, giving my magic to power the wires that send jolts of electricity arching through her body. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. She’s being hurt and it is my fault. Of course, I cannot defy the Prince. I could not say anything when he took me to this terrible room and told me to hook myself up to the torture device. But still, despite all that, my magic is causing her pain, so it’s still my fault. 

I stare out in horror as she writhes and screams, twisting within her chains and swinging this way and that. 

“You have to tell me who the resistance members are,” the Prince states in his rich, warm, haughty tone. He has turned off the electrical shocks for a moment, and he glares at the monster from his plush floating seat. 

“Get sunk,” the girl spits back, defiance in her eyes. 

At this he turns up the shocks again and the girl screams. She just screams, fiercely, hoarsely, brokenly, and it echoes through the darkened room. Hurt and desperate and crazed. I want to scream too. I feel as if everything she is feeling is echoing in my own heart. I know too well what pain is. I want her to stop screaming. I want us both to get out of this dreadful room, together, to get away from the dreadful Prince, together. But it doesn’t matter what I want. 

“The only way to make the pain stop is to tell me what I want to know,” the Prince declares loudly, as the girl slumps down in her chains, savouring a moment of respite. 

“I won’t tell you,” she spits back, “no matter how much you hurt me. Don’t you realize that you people hurt us every day to get your precious energy? I am used to pain.”

I have no idea how she’s holding on to this much defiance. I definitely agree that she has to obey the Prince, obey the Empire that he represents, but still. Still. I am absolutely awed by her strength and her courage. I have this strange, overwhelming sense of admiration for her, for all that she is being able to do. She’s protecting her people. In her mind, she is protecting her people. And I don’t have any people to protect. I have no idea how it feels to protect your people. But still, I admire what she is doing for her’s. 

“You won’t be used to this pain,” the Prince replies, turning the shock dial up to the maximum. 

The girl writhes and swears and screams herself hoarse. But still the Prince does not stop the horrible, many-wired machine. He doesn’t stop it and it keeps shocking her, with no breaks for her to rest and breathe in between. It keeps shocking her and it keeps taking magic from me and we both are in incredible pain, trapped here in the prison compartment of the metallic spaceship, companions in our suffering. But still, she is suffering quite a bit more than I am. I can only imagine everything that she is going through. 

“If you don’t tell me, I will keep you under the shocks for hours,” the Prince threatens. 

“Fine,” the girl pants out, “I will tell you.” 

I knew that she would give in eventually. Nobody can withstand the might of the Empire. But still. Still. I feel let down and disappointed. As if I am watching something great and beautiful die. 

———

I walk to the prison hold of the ship, and sneak open the door. There is a cup of gruel in my hands. A cup of the thick, tasteless slop that they make us eat, that is incredibly cheap to make, as I’ve learned from the books. The Prince and his friends have thought that it would be okay to feed the prisoners that they have captured. After all, they need to be alive for their trial. And they need to be alive to face whatever punishment the Emperor sets for them. And so it falls to me to deliver them their food. 

I am almost afraid as I slip through the door and into the illuminated darkness within. I have never seen resistance members before. Not in real life. Not actually in front of my eyes. I wonder what they will be like. I wonder what they will think of me, a soft child growing up in the heart of the Empire, never thinking about rebellion. I wonder if they will judge me. I wonder if I will care. I know that I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care what a bunch of criminals think. But still. Still. They are almost heroic in a strange, inexplicable sense. 

Inside the prison there is a large cage made out of plasma arranged in a neat grid. The bars of the cage glow brightly against the darkness, illuminating the five figures inside. Plasma bars are impossible to get through. Though I don’t know why the Prince and his crew used such a strong cage when the resistance members clearly don’t have anything with them that they could use to help themselves escape. I know that these bars are dangerous to touch, and I make sure to keep away from them just as the prisoners are keeping away from them. 

“Hi,” I speak uncertainly. 

“Hi, child,” a young woman with bright green eyes responds, looking at me kindly, which isn’t at all what I expected from her. I feel somewhat embarrassed. I am not used to kindness at all. 

“I got you all some food,” I tell them, carefully pushing the cup through a space in the bars. 

“Thank you,” an older woman replies, “your kindness is greatly appreciated.” 

“It’s not my kindness,” I explain to her, “it’s the Prince and his companions who thought you should get food. See, they’re sure that you all will not be executed. You will only be imprisoned. The Empire is merciful. You should be grateful for the Empire’s mercy.”

They pause for a long moment at my words, looking at me with a strange sort of sympathetic look in their eyes that I can’t quite place. 

“Child,” a young man, perhaps a teenager, speaks to me, “I hope that you never have to learn this lesson. But the Empire’s mercy is not our mercy.”

“What does that mean?” I ask him. 

“We hope you never have to know,” another older woman replies. 

“Anyways, child,” a person whose gender I am unsure of begins, “we’ve seen you following the Imperial soldiers around. What do you do?”

“I mostly just give them whatever they want and I do things for them,” I reply. 

“That sounds like a thankless job,” the young woman tells me. “Do you have a family?”

“I don’t,” I answer honestly. 

“How horrible!” The first older woman replies. 

“Listen,” the young woman tells me, “I’m going to give you a communication disk that you can communicate to your home planet on. Hide it from the Imperials and use it, okay?” 

She makes herself gag until she throws up, and a tiny disk the size of my finger falls to the floor. This she carefully maneuvers through the bars. She drops it in my hands. 

I am completely flabbergasted. I have no idea how to respond. So I just take the small disk and I hide it in my clothes. I am aware that I am defying my masters. But still. Still. I have to do this. I don’t know why.