Red Valkyrie - Chapter 1, Initiation
22 Sep 2021Nathan Crest
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Red Valkyrie is an adversary in the struggles of Nathan Crest (Nathan's tale) and Albion Interstellar (full account) in the Orionis system. This is her story. |
Red Valkyrie
Chapter 1, Initiation
Spoundlings. It feels like spitting as you say the word. And that perfectly matched the purpose of this slur - to insult, to degrade. It is a slang that evolved from space foundlings, for those interested in etymology; a derogatory term referring to laborers that would spend their entire lives in an orbital outpost, never able to afford to set foot on the planet that they could see every day. They are the modern day indentured servants, trapped in a social-economic class they cannot not escape from. Today, this slur was used once again.
"Look at the nice bum on this spoundling," a visibly drunk corporate suit commented. His oblong face flushed red from alcohol, beady eyes fixed on his victim. Surrounding him was a group of fawning men and women, apparently celebrating the successful hostile takeover of this orbital mining outpost.
A teenage girl was on all fours, cleaning up spills, a mass of red hair falling out of her haphazardly pulled together bun. She wiped the sweat off her face, smearing a streak of dirt across her slightly upturned nose. The girl looked back at the drunk man. Her green eyes flashed angrily.
"Oh, she's got a temper. What are you going to do little girl? We own everything here, including you."
He intentionally spilled a drink on the floor, "Oh look what happened, I guess you have to come here and clean this up."
The girl stood up and brushed an unruly tress of hair out of her face. Walking toward the table of celebrating corporate suits, the murky water sloshed quietly in the metal bucket she carried.
A hand reached out and groped her. She froze.
"Oooh look, she likes it."
A burst of forced laughter broke out at the table. This was a punishable offense that should be reported to corp-sec, listed under section 14.4.a of the bylaws. But no one who cared about their career would dare to cross the Senior Principle Regional Director. For someone of his position, all he would get would be a 30-minute vid-call about diversity, and nothing would even go on his record. A spoundling simply wasn't worth the trouble.
The metal bucket flew at the suits. Dirty water splashed all over their expensive jackets and blouses. While the group reeled back, stunned, the red haired girl grabbed a steak knife from the table and plunged it into the director's abdomen. The suit shrieked in pain, his face a mask of fear and disbelief. The teen tore the knife free, its serrated edge ripping skin and flesh, and buried it into the man's neck.
Screams, blood, chaos, panic. The girl felt strangely at ease. She walked out of the pub amidst the pandemonium.
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"Dad, I'm home." The red haired girl opened the door and walked in.
"Julia?" After a bit of shuffling and scrambling, the father came out of the bedroom. He was sweaty and shirtless. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be working at the pub?"
Julia shrugged.
"Well, where's the pay for tonight?"
"I didn't get paid."
"What?" The father yelled angrily, "You lazy trash! You think the food you eat is free? You think the clothes you wear is free?"
"Then maybe you should work," the girl muttered under her breath. Unfortunately, it was loud enough for her father to hear.
A loud smack, Julia felt the sting on her cheek from her father's hand. "What did you say?"
An unfamiliar woman walked sheepishly out of the bedroom.
"Um.. Julia, you better not say a word about this. If your mom finds out, I'm going to make your life miserable."
He turned to the woman, "Hey Brooke, you don't have to leave yet, I'll get rid of her."
"Fine, I'll go."
Julia walked out the door. There would be repercussions for stabbing the corporate suit. She didn't know what to do, but she knew her father wouldn't help her anyway. She was never able to count on him for as long as she could remember.
<> <> <>
Red Valkyrie blinked. Why did the past suddenly come back? Perhaps the steak knife kill, her first, was a corporate pig. And today, there would be another one.
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Next Chapter This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. |