The Raspite Prince

A cold vast darkness has settled over this silent ship. Once so full of life and laughter, the ship floats vacant of any signs of life. This small vessel consists of only three levels, the bridge, the living quarters, and the engine room. My body, the only one intact, lies in the eerie silence of the once bustling corridor.

With all that I've been given, surviving should have been a breeze. But in truth, as I lie in this hollow ship, I wish for death. Not that its presence will grace me now or in the future, since, no matter what, my body hibernates to keep itself going, by slowing down certain functions. In other words, I'm pretty much indestructible, and it pains me so.

As I sit here, barely breathing, my heartrate drops, almost to the point where death would come to the average person of my race, or any other race that I know of.

This is my curse, and mine alone to bear.

But if I remain here, no one else will die by my hands.

My thoughts wander in the pitch black that surrounds me. What have I done? What evil have I unleashed? My mind flashes to the beginning of this voyage, this peaceful mission that I first set out on.

It started out as a mission to protect my people, my planet, and those I loved so dearly. Now my curse has claimed the lives of those who never knew what was coming. I was born with certain abilities that would fulfill a prophecy for my people, but part of the prophecy said that my powers could not be controlled by myself alone. It is said that only a man of my choosing, one who I give myself to freely and fully, would be able to focus and control my powers. Such was my dreary fate—to be so powerful and to never be in control of my own destiny. To become a slave. So many times I asked myself why. How could fate be so cruel? I, of course, never received an answer.

And now this.

The week before we set out for the Commerce, my mother had caught wind that the Raspites, a war-hungry race of highly trained soldiers with amazingly advanced technology, were seeking me out. My father and I, with my personal guard, left our planet in search of a safer place to hide me—because, what worse fate could I have than to be used as a weapon or as the cause of the destruction of my own planet?

Oh, how I missed the simplicity of my home. The rolling fields and high-reaching mountains that cast their shade upon my bedroom floor. I used to know exactly when my father was coming to tuck me in because of the length of shadows the setting sun cast.

I looked out one last time on my planet as we boarded a small trade shuttle, and I sighed. The Commerce was our best hope because they were the largest group of united planets and races in space. We took the small shuttle to a nearby planet, and then we planned to transfer onto a passenger vessel. The trade ship was already headed there for business, and we saw an opportunity to hide ourselves. It would get us to the planet of Brilinbur, a Commerce trade planet, which was basically the trade center for all life-bearing planets in our region of space.

The passenger ship we boarded was almost ten times the size of the ship from our planet, and full of traders. It is this vessel, torn and silent, that floats aimlessly through space. All because of me—every woman, man, and child—are lifeless, burnt bundles of flesh and bones lying in piles on the floor around me. Some are even molded to the floors and walls, from the sheer heat of my powers. The saddest part is that they never saw it coming. Their voices, laughter, and my own heartbroken guilt echo through me in the stillness. I try in vain to let go, but my own body denies my thoughts of self-destruction.

A thought more disturbing than I can handle enters my head. Someone, a traitor among my own people, must have leaked our boarding to the Raspites. It had to have been my people, because no one else knew what I looked like. For the most part, I was kept locked away from the public view. Sheltered, not only for my protection, but for the protection of others. My father did his best to teach me to control my emotions, which helped to control my powers. However, any attack on me, from even the smallest of creatures or beings, triggered self-protection mode. I had absolutely no control over that part.

My mind drifts between now and prior to the darkness. My healing process is delayed by my apparent unease and paranoid state.

I see bits and parts of the last few days aboard, and only now do I remember seeing the man who caused this. He watched our every move, and even though we were dressed as peasants, traders of sorts to blend in, he knew who we were. He always studied me specifically.

I'm jerked back to the darkness. My side is bleeding, and the pool of blood is soaking back into me. The skin from the gaping wound gradually pulls itself together, all because my body is programed to do so.

It is not the healing process, however, that has pulled me so abruptly back. There's shuffling in the darkness. Has someone managed to survive this whole thing? Of course not. They couldn't have. My mind must be playing tricks on me, giving me false hope to alleviate some of my overwhelming sorrow.

I drift back into my dream state. The man appeared on the loading dock shortly after we did. He followed us without us noticing. Whoever he may have been, he must have been trained to not draw attention to himself. In the farthest corners of my memory, the details at meals and at gatherings become clear. He took mental notes on our routine, our path. He knew exactly how to get us. He knew the exact time and place. How? Why were we betrayed?

And then some unknown voice had shouted from behind us. "Gun!"

I turned just as the gun spat its angry ammunition toward us. The bullet hit my father right between the eyes.

"Laoonica, run!" my guard ordered as she engaged the shooter. Bullets flew in slow motion as I knelt by my father's side, lost in my own disbelief. I looked up just as my guard's lifeless body hit the floor. Everyone was running and screaming. A few were wounded in the crossfire. Blood dripped from them as they attempted to get away. The security guards on the ship were blocked by the masses running away from the chaos. No one could stop the man's next move as he approached me. From his belt, he pulled a long old-fashioned sword from beneath a full-length coat.

I was unsure of the significance of his weapon or why he saved it for me. He lifted me by the front of the shirt, until my face was even with his. As he did, he plunged the sword through me.

As it protruded out my opposite side, he whispered in my ear, "My sacrifice will serve my people." A swift jerking twist was felt as he turned the blade, and I screamed in agonizing pain. Before I could do anything else, my body went into defense mode. The blade turned red, melted, and slid from my body as I heated up inside. A flash of blue flames grew around me, growing large enough to engulf the entire ship, so quickly that no one stood a chance. I slowly fell to the floor.

Then the darkness came.

Something in the distance jolts me to the present. I hear feet, and voices calling to each other. They start as a whisper in the distance, but they grow closer and louder. A light comes down the hallway. The brightness burns my eyes, so I block it with my hand.

A woman's voice calls out. "Lieutenant Wolf, over here. We have a live one." She has absolute shock in her voice. And no wonder. The once beautiful white metallic walls are blackened from soot and ash from the intensity of my rage.

A man's voice comes from farther down the hallway. "Where are you?"

The woman next to me flashes her light toward him. They wear strange grey suits to cover their faces and bodies. I guess, since I knocked out the ship's power source, as well as everything else, they can't breathe. The low levels of oxygen don't affect me the same, because I'm able to speak, even with the lack of atmosphere.

"Ma'am, can you hear me?" The man flashes his light in my eyes. It's agonizing and annoying because the darkness held me so long in its embrace. I just want them to be gone so I can return to my solitude.

"Leave me." I barely recognize my own voice. It's weak because my body is switched into survival mode. I don't want anyone else to get hurt, so with what energy I have left, I beg them to go.

"Ma'am, we're going to get you out of here," the woman responds. Her suit gives her voice an electronic ping. With each breath she takes, the oxygen she inhales makes a swishing sound.

"No, leave me, please. Just leave me." I flash in and out of consciousness. I don't have the strength to fight them, and sadly I fear they may share the same fate as those forever fused to this ship.

"Ma'am, ma'am, we're here to help you." This time it's the man's voice, but it takes too much out of me to talk to them. Perhaps, it is simply good intentions that my rescuers seem to not listen. I tried to warn them. I tried.

"Ma'am?" She tries to get a reply, but I can't respond, even though I hear her.

"Ma'am?" The man tries again. His voice echoes deep inside me as I fade farther into the nothingness that comes as my mind shuts down—to allow my body to take over.

"She's not responding. Lieutenant, we have to get her back to the medical bay." The woman sounds urgent in her demands to remove me.

"Get her on a stretcher and take her to the hospital bay. The rest of us, we will continue to search." A floating, white, surfboard-like device is lowered to my side. I hear the beeping of the monitors that are built into it as I'm lifted onto it. My sluggish heart rhythm is echoed by beep... beep... and then I fall silently into a healing state, where I don't know what's going on, yet my healing is still slow for some reason. Perhaps it's that I do not feel one hundred percent safe. After all, I don't know who my rescuers are.