Deception

I lift up the fabric in my pants leg, studying the scars imprinted permanently into my skin. Time after time the Mogodorians have tried to close the skin around it or to cover it with tattoos, but the pain it caused was far too intense, and the ink never stayed anyway. I'm stuck with them, with the constant remember of who the Elders wanted me to be and what I've done.

I'm apathetic toward the scars of Numbers One, Two, and Three. This was a suicide mission from the start and it's always just been a matter of who could survive the longest before the Mogodorians came. They simply died in numerical order, like the curse promised, but now that it's broken they're all vulnerable to die at any given time. I know I'm the one who confirmed it, the one who will plague the thoughts of my fellow Garde and stain the memories they had with their fallen companion. They were all fools for believing they could trust me, but they were not completely at fault. If I was as misinformed and stupid as them, particularly Numbers Six and Nine, I might have fallen for the same guise I displayed.

"She is ready for you." One of my fellow soldiers informs me from the entrance of my room, which is much larger than most of the others of my ranking.

"Thank you." I rise and swiftly conceal my scars again. There will never be time for fake mourning.

Number Ten is different. She was never officially part of the mission insinuated by the Elders, and yet here she is, the living heir of our Great Leader. We have been keeping her captive for past two weeks whilst we attempt to track the rest of the Loric once again. Having them separated again because of my previously successful plan has it's downfalls, such as it not being as easy to kill them off in one sweep, but they are weaker this way. My new job, as a result, will be to aide convincing little Ten of the True Way.

She doesn't look at me when I first come in her room. The Great Leader insisted that she be treated as regally as himself, so her room is almost as elaborate as what her current allies had in the John Hancock Center. Her frame is petite compared to her large bed, even when I sit on the opposite end as her and sit back to gaze at her. She still doesn't lift her face from staring at her crossed legs, but that will come after a little time.

"Hello," I begin.

I'm not rewarding with a response. I sigh and comment, "Look, we can do this the either way or the hard way. It'll be a lot easier on both of us if you just cooperate."

"Yeah." Her voice is soft, subdued. She is afraid of me.

"Why don't we start with you looking up at me?" I offer, settling back against the foot board.

I watch as she shivers briefly in apprehension, then tilts her head until our eyes barely meet. I expected hers to be red-rimmed and puffy from crying, but instead I find they are clear aside from the darkness she's obviously feeling. What I thought was originally just fear has proven to be hate.

"Ella," I say cautiously, not breaking her gaze none the less. "I'm here to help you. You have to realize that."

"Just like you burned that crop circle so we could find you for your help?" She spits out, her words seething with venomous anger.

"I am almost surprised you all honestly fell for that. You are all leading a hopeless, suicidal cause that you all know you will not fulfill. It's sick when you think about it. Your planet's leaders, who are dead themselves now, wanted nine random kids to come to a planet they knew very limited things about to avenge them. What's in it for you all, to have your childhoods stolen, and to have nothing but an empty planet where there was once a corrupt community, even if you did win? And what are the odds that could happen? You are five against an entire army, Ella. Why would you sacrifice your own lives to a lost cause?"

As I finish my speech, I watch as she stiffens up and sits up fully. Her eyes have only grown darker, reflecting rage I didn't expect. I mean, I expected her to be angry, but she seems to have just as bad of a temper as Number Nine.

"You talk about us like you're not supposed to be a part of our cause." Her tone is icy. "We're fighting to avenge a lot more than just some 'old dead guys'. We had families back on Lorien, and we had Cepans who came to Earth with us just to try and save what we've almost lost entirely. And we're avenging our childhoods and all that we've lost."

"But why would you waste revenge toward us? If you really think about it, we helped you all out. Lorien was a corrupt planet with an unreliable fighting force and faulty means of protection. Besides, even if you did win, have you even considered how you're going to restart Lorien? The environment is dead, you'd be the only ones there, and you'd have to repopulate the damn thing. What if there aren't enough of you to do it? Then you'd all just die old and miserable on a dusty old ball in the middle of space, alone. If you were with the Mogodorians, though, you could have the entire universe. We're family here. We look after each other, and we are going to rebuild everything to something bigger, something a lot better. Only the strong will survive and we are the strong. If you're with us, you can't lose."

I feel bad for her, really. She's so lost and confused, but she can still be saved. She isn't too far gone like Six or Nine, and she has much more potential than the rest of the Loric. She is very intelligent, she's obviously going to possess a lot of power when she's a little older, and she is the heir to the Great Leader's throne. She could rule this entire race one day and all she has to do is see reason.

She's staring directly at me now, but I can see the doubt hinting in her expression. My method is beginning to work and we both know it. The difference is that she's trying to fight it, but not for much longer.

"You don't know what you're talking about it." Her voice is beginning to quiver. "I'm not the confused one, you are!"

"Oh, I am?" I roll my eyes and stand up, walking to her fully. She withdraws, but I grab her arm and take her chin in my other hand, making her look into my eyes again fully. "Don't be an idiot like your little friends. You don't belong with them; you read that letter from your own Cepan. Your place is with us, ruling right beside the Great Leader. You just don't want to believe it, but we're going to be gracious and show you the Good Book. We're going to teach you how to be just like us."

"No." She suddenly jerks back, scrambling onto the other side of the bed. She's holding the spot on her arm where I was gripping before, glaring at me harshly. "You all want to teach me about to be just like you. And I'm not going to let you."

"What other choice do you have?" I snap. "You're not getting out of here."

"Yes I am! The others will come from me! We're a family, not a bunch of stupid soldiers following a cruel leader!" She snaps back, releasing her hold on her arm and clenching her tiny fists.

She's pissed me off now. I've been trying to be patient and help her out, but she's not giving me that chance. I grab her with my telekinesis now, lifting her off of the ground and pinning her tightly against the nearest wall to her. She gasps in alarm and tries to struggle, but I just tighten it's grip, approaching her slowly with a scowl. The hatred is still present, but it's being covered with the tears pooling and the distinct terror across her face.

"Too bad, Number Ten. It wasn't an option," I growl. "You're going to be the heir whether you like it or not. The whole point of this entire intervention was to make you realize why it's in your best interest. We don't give a damn if you never like it, because the alternative is being tortured and doing it anyway. We never-"

I falter when one of her tears frees itself and drips onto my outstretched hand. Mogodorians don't typically display their emotions like that, and I have learned to repress hurt and fear into anger myself, so I haven't witnessed anyone really crying in a long time. She may be an annoying twat, but she looks so freaking small where I still have her harshly pinned. She's just a kid and that's why I was trying to keep my cool before. I mean, I'm a traitor to my original purpose, but I'm not a completely heartless bastard.

Slowly, I lower her back to the ground. Now that I'm not restraining her, her frame is trembling, causing her tears to splash down her cheeks more freely and quickly. I get the sudden urge to comfort her, which is something I haven't felt the need to do since I was thirteen. I've always been crap at it, though, and she'd probably still try to punch me in my one good eye if I tried to touch her again.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." I turn around instead, heading for the door as quickly as possible.

All she's seeing is that I'm the person who deceived the Loric, the traitor who accidentally killed her friend because he was protecting her other friend. But all of their lives we've been the ones that were deceived by the Elders, who have ruined our lives permanently because of their selfish need to be avenged. They hardly did anything spectacular anyway, and everyone else on my forsaken home planet is long gone. Even if I did join their side again, I'd be killed just like the others, and I'd be like them in having no real purpose for surviving the night Lorien fell.

...

It's another late night for me. I have hardly been able to sleep since the night I revealed my true intentions, but I doubt it's from regret over my plan or decision. Maybe it's because I killed a potential ally because of his own idiotic sacrifice. Either way, I'm musing over the dark marks underneath my eyes as I take a walk around the long corridors of the living quarters. The base we're staying in is pleasant enough, at least by Mogodorian solider standards. This is the third night in a row I've done this, and it's usually enough to buy me a few minutes of fitful sleep.

I find myself pausing at Ella's large door tonight. She's probably asleep herself right now, and I can't help but wonder if she's had more nightmares since she got her. I know that the Great Leader was doing it to her before, and if one of the other soldiers reported anything to him about what they may have heard from my intervention with her, he could be manipulating her in that way again. Slowly, I undo the lock and step in as quietly as I can.

She is sleeping relatively peacefully, it turns out. Her face is almost expressionless as she lays there, her eyes not even fluttering as I approach. Again I'm reminded that I made someone young and relatively innocent cry, and that makes me cringe. I don't know why I feel compassion for this child, but she is in the same boat as I am. We both have to betray our own kind if we want to live, and the only difference is that I've grown to not mind as much.

A sigh escapes my lips as I take a step back, still too uneasy to touch her. She'll trust me in time, because that's something all children look for when they've lost something. She's going to need me, and chances are I might even find something useful in that. At least I know I won't deceive her again. I'm a traitor, not a heartless bastard.