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Story by Prysm
Queens Ascending: Project
QUEENS ASCENDING
Queens Ascending: Welcome
Known simply as, “the slums” to citizens of planet Kepler’s District 1; District 1.2 is a literal underworld to the metropolis above her. Stacks of shoddy plate-metal shops, offices, and apartments stand connected by paths of corroded metal grating; perched precariously along the stone walls lining the city’s open sewer system. Neon signs and holographic displays adorn nearly every store-front. Criminals and scum of all natures rule her vast expanse. Gangs of young men and women band together in the dark against what lurks around the next corner. Two of these gangs hold significant control over the sub-district; “The Green Needles”, and “The Queens”. The following is a story of manifest destiny, and the beginning of a new era for District 1.2’s denizens.
Tyrone “Spax” Jackson, sat against the sewer wall; a blood-soaked tyrian-purple bandana atop his head, a sage-green bandana stuffed into his mouth, a gaping hole in his forehead, and his brains plastered across the cold stone behind him. Tito Remil, his best mate, stooped to sit beside his fallen brother; and with a slight tremor to his voice, spoke, “What a waste.”
Three hours had passed silently. Tito knew the KPD’s androids would come by on patrol soon, and that in those hours, there was never a chance to remove his friend unnoticed. He stood and gently removed Spax’s bloodied bandana, whispering, “Goodbye…” as he stuffed the cloth half-way into his back pocket.
Every creaking step along the path to The Queens’ headquarters seemed to echo to him. The signs and holograms adorning the slums’ storefronts had never seemed so blindingly bright. The chatter of cantina patrons seemed distant as he passed.
As Tito arrived at his so-called home, he pulled Spax’s now-crusty bandana from his pocket and looked down, where a band of similar hue sat wrapped taught to his leg. All that he could think, was a simple color had killed his friend. “One simple color.” he mumbled. He knocked on the blast-door and the slide opened for a moment, a pair of green eyes behind. The slide snapped shut, the door opened, and light flooded the dank corridor as he stepped inside.
He stepped past the guard and the chatting whores, made his way past the makeshift barracks, stepped into Queens HQ proper, and carefully took in all that he saw. Silk-curtained walls, dimmed lights, pristine sofas imported from Earth, delicately-crafted wooden tables, and bottles of fine liquor. This was what he lost Tyrone for, and it wasn’t enough. Members came and went from HQ frequently, and not a single set of eyes inspected him closely at first. He clenched his hand into a fist around the blood-caked bandana, feeling its rough crunch between his fingers. Eyes all around the room gradually shifted towards him. He ordered their names in his head as they did: Diego ‘Zap’ Winters, Jade Felsh, Sarah ‘Curse’ Dylan, Bruno Rekyev, Emilio ‘Teps’ Jovian, Andre ‘Rex’ Kevel-- He stopped, several minutes had passed.
At the far side of the room, dead center, sat Jennifer Xell, Queen of Queens, tumbler of scotch in hand, atop her tungsten throne. Atop Jen, sat her favorite plaything and second-in-command, Amy Ezvel; grinding away.
Tito spoke softly, “Those pin-prick bastards snuffed Tyrone while he was keeping look-out. I told you that deal was too close to their turf.” Neither Jen nor Amy had looked away from the other, both still apparently enjoying Amy’s dance.
“We should forgive our enemies.” Jennifer set down her glass, “But not before they are hanged.” “They’ll pay for Spax’s dea--”
Tito, his brows lowered, his eyes narrowed in a seething rage, cut her off, “Stop calling him Spax. Tyrone’s dead, Jen. This isn’t some fucking game!”
Jen grimaced, before snatching up her glass to hurl it at him, “How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!”
“I’d sleep in the damned sewer if it meant never losing Tyrone for the sake of your pride.” He paused briefly, “I’m done. Fuck all of you.”
Amy turned and cooed after him, “Remember your oath, Tito. If you remove that band in the slums, we won’t protect you.” She turned back to Jen, “He’ll come around. Give him time.”
Jennifer whispered in reply, “I just hope he secured those supplies. We’re so close to ghosting them all...
Under normal circumstances, Jennifer’s every word was gospel: the days to follow were no exception. Jade collected from the regular businesses. Bruno, Teps, and Curse raided a Needles’ arms warehouse. Zap brought more businesses, closer to Needles HQ, under the Queens’ protection racket. Rex informed dust-dealers of their ensuing mandatory compliance with the Queens’ ‘sub-laws’. Meanwhile, another member had been given freedom to work as she pleased on other, more sensitive projects.
Amy’s private workshop sat, hidden, next to one of the many entrances to Queens HQ. She sat hunched at her workbench, her cybernetic eye’s lens glistening with the light from her propped-up holographic tablet. She blinked her right, biological, eye and her left adjusted to a zoomed focus.
A metallic grinding sound echoed through the room as she pried the top off a hardened, fist-sized, reactor-coolant vessel and dumped its contents through the floor-grate beside her. Reaching to the rack at the other side of her bench, she retrieved a dish containing a mix of organic polymers and filled the vessel half-full with the powder. She placed the dish back on the rack, and set the vessel in an ice bath at the edge of her bench as she fastened a valved cap to its top. Hooking the cap to a solvent pump, she flicked a switch and the pump jumped abuz.
She reached under her bench and pulled up a mass of wires attached to an eight-inch lens-housing with a six-inch aperture. Tito’s supply deal had gone partially to plan after all: before Amy sat the primary laser-lens off an old imperator-class belt-miner. She snipped the wires free from their solder-points and tossed them in a nearby bin, before fastening the housing to a bracket with suction-cup-tipped legs extending past the lens’s front.
The solvent pump stopped, having filled the vessel to-pressure. Amy turned from her current task, and closed the vessel’s cap-valve. She detached the pump’s hose from the vessel and replaced it with an impact detonator she had crafted previously. She set the completed incendiary grenade on the rack with the polymer powder, right next to two other finished grenades, and got to work on the next.
She set the pump to pressurizing her fourth and final coolant vessel, and turned back to the laser-lens. She soldered thick copper rods in place of the wires, extending in the direction opposite to the bracket legs. Finally, to the copper rods, she soldered a partially-bypassed control unit with a wireless receiver, and a large graphene battery pack.
Before her sat the newly-crafted means to breach the blast doors of Needles HQ.
Jen adjusted the straps of her activated-reflective-panel chest-piece; her most-prized possession. She turned to speak, “Was there no other way? I feel awful exposed with this lithium pack at my side.”
Amy, to Jen’s right, replied softly, “No other cell type would discharge at that rate without malfunctioning.”
Jen gave a puzzled look at first, but turned back to load her M-78 carbine, not wanting to argue before a raid. When she finished, she turned and walked to the other end of the armory, laying a hand on Teps’ shoulder, who’d already donned impact gel. “You’re to stay behind with Jade. Should something go wrong, she will rule as my successor. She’d need a capable fighter at her side.”
Teps cracked his knuckles and sat, clearly irritated. There was no point in suggesting otherwise, he knew Jen was right.
Jen turned to the other members present; Bruno, Zap, Amy, Curse, and Rex; and spoke, “These puke-pins have been a thorn in our side since our first ventures to the east side. Today we wipe the clover fucks off our grates. Here’s the dip. No one uses their incendiaries until that door opens. Clear?”
“Aye!” they replied in unison.
“Curse, Amy’s briefed you on how to set the breacher, correct?”
Curse nodded and Jen continued, “Rex, I want suppressive fire as soon as that door opens.”
Rex leaned his full-auto laser-rifle against his shoulder with a smirk.
“Zap. Bruno. Make them count. We’ve only four. I still want to see the glow when we’re through celebrating.”
The two turned to each other and smiled, “Aye.”
“We’re ready, then.” Jen paused, her pale-brown eyes twinkling.
She paraphrased Shakespeare,
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Once more.
When the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger; stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise cool nature with hard-favored rage; then lend the eye a terrible aspect. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height. On, you noblest Queens.”
They set out from HQ at the lowest level they could, each in turn jumping the grates to the stone sewer’s upper ledges below, before ducking into the shadows and continuing east.
For over an hour they hiked in full kit along the narrow ledges; traversing jutting pipes, jagged gullies, and piles of rancid fecal matter. Curse had acted as their guide. She held up a closed fist as they came to another ladder that led top-side. They were two blocks and a turn from their destination. Each ascended in turn, hopping off at the second level up. Rex landed first and slapped a loaded currency-chit onto the counter of the nearby bar, as he told the tender, “Keep your trap shut.”
Zap had visited the establishment only two days prior, and now smiled widely as he landed. The tender nodded, picked up the chit, and continued serving his patrons, all of whom knew better than to get involved. The rest made solid footing and crept forward, passing a holographic companion store. The owner knew full well not to even open that day.
The team came to their turn and were only eight yards from the blast door. From around the corner they heard their first hints of resistance. Two masculine voices, chatting away between drags. Curse removed her bandana, placed it in her pack with the breacher, and rolled her shoulders forward slightly, trying her best to look meager.
Sarah stepped around the corner with her head down, and walked the grates as if she were any other slum rat, on her way to work. In her path stood three greens, smoking dope outside their HQ. As she went to pass, one grabbed her shoulder as he chuckled, “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here alone?”
Sarah put her head down a bit further and tugged her arm away. “I-I’m not lookin’ for trouble.”
The green band around his arm stuck out like a sore thumb, and he spoke again, “Now, who said anything about trouble? You look like you could use some friends.”
The Needle pushed Sarah to the blast door as the shorter guy next to him spoke, a sadistic edge to his voice, “Looks like you’ve found us some entertainment, Mark.”
Bruno, around the corner with the rest, gritted his teeth. That was his girl, and he wasn’t about to let these freaks rape her. He readied his pistol and moved to turn the corner, but Jen grabbed his arm, holding him back. Bruno balled his free hand as Jen readied her carbine and stepped to the fore.
Another girl leaned on the shorter guy’s arm, the last Needle in sight, a green band around her leg. Sarah dropped to the floor, cowering in the inlet before the blast door, and slapped the door three times, as if desperately looking for help.
Queens Ascending: News
Jen and Bruno turned the corner at the signal and picked their targets. Bruno fired first, a single round blowing Mark’s head open as blood sprayed across Curse’s face. Jen’s rounds flew past in a torrent before the other Needles could even draw arms: their bodies shuddered with every impact, before falling over the grates into the sewers, two stories below.
Curse pushed Mark after his friends, and watched as his corpse smacked a jagged stone outcropping. She dropped a strap from her shoulder and turned her pack to her front, pulling the breaching device from inside. She quickly pressed it to the lower edge of the door and adjusted it’s legs so the aperture pointed to where she knew the lock-bars would be. She hopped up, wiped the blood from her face, and ran ten paces before disappearing into the shadows, her portion of the mission complete.
Amy knew from the sound of slapping grates that Curse had completed her task, and she pulled her holo-tab from her side. She opened an input console and typed quickly, slapping ‘enter’ with her pinky after every string. A few lines later, a hum could be heard from around the corner. Jen and Bruno took the hint and ducked back around. A few seconds later, the entire story was illuminated for two blocks, and the entire team could hear the crackling of a venting battery pack.
The time for stealth was over, and Rex turned the corner in a full suit of martian impact gel. He lowered his rifle and laid down fire as two Needles burst through the ruined blast door. Inch-wide holes burned through their bodies, and they squealed in agony. Rex kept fire on the door as the rest moved up. Jen took point and leaned against the wall next to the door’s inlet as beams flew past only inches away. Rex diverted his aim long enough for Jen to peek, and she filled the corridor beyond the doorway with super-sonic lead.
The group pushed forward, Rex stopping just inside the door to keep watch and guard the rear. As they neared the first fork along the hall, a girl spun around the corner, carbine in-hand, towards Jen. Jen took two rounds to her chest, stunning her, as rounds flew over her shoulders from behind. Before the green could direct her aim anywhere useful, her head split open like an overripe fruit, and she slumped to the floor.
Jen gasped and recovered with a cough, pulling her grenade from her belt. She opened the valve and chucked it around the corner. Less than two seconds later, the doorway erupted in flames. From outside, the group heard three distinct voices screeching like banshees as they traveled into the abyss. Being coated in napalm is one hell of a way to go.
Jen reloaded in the chaos, and pressed on as the flames in the hall died down, noting that the room seemed to have been a lounge of sorts. The group sprinted through the passageway and came to an empty room attached to three other hallways.
One was short, empty, and terminated in another blast door. Jen pulled Bruno aside and pointed to the hall. He handed his grenade to Jen and nodded, taking up a defensive position in the corridor. The others were long and dark. Jen pointed Zap down one, and pulled Amy with her into the other.
Zap raised his carbine, flicked on his shoulder-mounted light, and quieted his steps, pushing forward. He followed the curving path until, only fifteen yards away, he saw an alcove.
He bolted forward, firing, as shots came flying past him from a pistol barrel peeking from around the alcove’s edge. He took a round to the shoulder as he turned the corner, but managed to nail the fucker in the head as he fell.
Zap clawed his way into the room and rolled over to fire again. A swift kick to the face, and next he knew, he was disarmed. He spit one of his front teeth to the floor, and smiled up at his assailant, some skinny cyborg bitch with a pistol. He frantically looked around the room, desperate to save himself. The room, a makeshift barracks, was carpeted.
Zap loosened his grenade’s top-valve as the girl kneeled over him and pressed her pistol to his chest, thinking herself victorious. Zap gave one last smirk, that signature spark in his eye. He smacked the grenade against the floor with all the force he could muster, and both were absorbed in hell-fire.
Jen and Amy heard the distant roar of flames as they neared a doorway in their own corridor. Both were ready, and ran ahead. Jen giggled in ecstasy as she threw open the door and loosed Bruno’s grenade, ducking back as soon as it left her hand.
What seemed like three whole seconds, and then a roar of flames, but not nearly erupting through the door. Jen knew the room was deep and straightened her face. She raised her rifle and turned to enter, spraying lead as she pushed inside. Some wretch, half-engulfed in flames, stabbed wildly at her from her left; landing a blow to the lithium battery pack at her side, which immediately burst, spewing shrapnel and a cloud of scalding vapor.
Amy scanned the room and blew a hole through the burning man’s neck as she entered, kicking him aside. She quickly fired again, putting two holes in some other Needle’s chest. The room, an armory of sorts, was cleared; but Jennifer was down and bleeding.
Amy dropped to her knees, stripped Jen’s shirt and breastplate off, and tore the shirt into strips, fashioning a bandage. When Amy had her patched up, she sat Jen, still-dazed, against a wall, and handed her back her carbine.
Jen spat at the floor, grumbling, “Go on, ghost these fucks. If there’re any left. ” Jen started to laugh, but stopped with a gasp and hunched over in pain.
Amy stood and exited the room, continuing along the corridor until she came to another blast door. She sighed in relief and turned back to retrieve Jen.
When she returned, Jen was still awake, and her bleeding had slowed considerably. Amy took her carbine and strapped it to her belt, before helping her to her feet.
The two hobbled back along the path towards Bruno.
When they arrived, Bruno smirked, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Zap’s not back, but I haven’t heard anything from Rex’s direction.”
Amy handed him the grenade and Jen’s carbine with a nod. Bruno readied himself and rushed down the corridor, in Zap’s footsteps. The girls stopped and caught their breathe, before trudging on towards Rex.
Bruno sprinted through the passageway, rifle raised, preparing himself for the worst. When he came to the alcove, he opened fire, noticing the scorch marks after by the barrel’s flash. He turned the corner, scanning the room through his sights. Not a soul. Just a pile of burnt corpses, most of which seemed to have been scrambling for the exit. He left the room and continued down the corridor, which eventually terminated in a blast door. It hit him like a truck. The two had spent four years fighting side-by-side. Bile spewed from his mouth to the cold stone floor.
When he regained his composure, he doubled back, in search of his fallen comrade.
Amy and Jen were ten yards from Rex when they heard footsteps from behind. Amy leaned Jen against the wall and turned, pulling her pistol from its holster at her side. Bruno stepped from the shadows with his head down, Zap’s scorched shoulder-light in-hand. Amy holstered her firearm with a nod and turned to reshoulder Jen’s weight. Together they gathered Rex and headed back to HQ.
A single knock on a blast door, and the slide snapped open. Curse opened the door and took Bruno in an embrace. The two gathered gear from the others, and headed to the armory, further inside. The regular guard closed and locked the door behind the others.
Rex laid Jen in her and Amy’s bed before turning and pushing aside the curtains as he stepped back into the grand hall. Amy helped Jen out of her clothes and stripped away her bandages. She removed what shrapnel she could, applied antibiotics, and redressed Jen’s wound. Jen fell asleep to the sounds of her fellow Queens’ celebration, Amy’s arm around her.
Amy took in all that was Jen. That delicate and formidable leader. She knew Jen’s body well: she knew she’d rise the next morning and continue her reign. Amy’s hand laid just above Jen’s bandages. Without disturbing her sleep, she loosened them, and felt as Jen’s blood ran. She kissed her lover and leader goodbye, and slept.
Jade swore Amy fealty the next morning, and so rose a new Queen of Queens.
Queens Ascending: FAQ
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