In a war-torn star system, a university student unexpectedly becomes a soldier running her own covert tactical squad. Behind enemy lines, she fights to protect her people and preserve the remnants of their civilization. Despite the hardships and dangers, she draws strength from her father’s support and her own determination. Write a story about her experiences, the challenges she faces, and the sacrifices she makes as she strives to bring hope and peace to her war-torn world.
This writing prompt offers an opportunity to explore themes of resilience, bravery, and the human capacity for change in the face of adversity. Unleash your creativity and craft a gripping story that will captivate readers and take them on an unforgettable adventure in a war-torn star system. Let the tale of courage and determination unfold as you breathe life into the protagonist’s struggle for a better future.
Get ready to immerse yourself in a world where ordinary individuals become extraordinary heroes, where sacrifices are made, and where hope lingers against all odds. Let your imagination soar and craft a story that will leave readers on the edge of their seats, eager to discover what lies beyond the next turn of events.
Are you ready to embark on this thrilling writing journey? Take up the challenge, weave a tale of resilience, and bring the war-torn star system to life through your words. Unleash your creativity, and let the heroism unfold!
Let the story writing begin!
My Story
Many times in our lives, we feel that we have been hit with a whirlwind of events and everything is thrown up in the air. We all want our lives to have some semblance of peace, but that is not always possible. At least it was not possible for me. There was no way we could have known how this year would turn out. I certainly couldn’t have. At the start of the year, I was a university student; by the end, I was a soldier running her own covert tactical squad behind enemy lines. I know. It’s a pretty big jump, isn’t it? But that is sometimes how the universe works. It throws drastic change into the mix to shake things up slightly. I felt they shook it up a little bit too much. It felt like the universe said, ‘Let’s see how much we can throw this stellar system into chaos’. This then graduating to, I wonder what would happen if this occurred. I couldn’t have possibly been able to predict any of this happening. I just wanted a normal life.
Once known for its arts and culture, our star system became a hellscape when the Zion Military came knocking at our door. They breached our outer system defences with relative ease. They jumped from planet to planet, offloading an invading force. The colony of the outer rim was subdued within the first week. We heard little from them ever since. We could only make guesses at what is happening over there. As you would expect, a range of wild rumours has appeared across our system. But how can we dispel them when we do not know what is happening.
The fighting got worse the further they moved toward the centre of the solar system, in line with where our troop displacement was. With each new invasion, we were able to better prepare ourselves for the fight that was coming our way. But with each successive invasion, the enemy’s tactics became ever more brutal. They knew what they were doing. They were testing our will. We were at a disadvantage from the start, we had civilians that we needed to protect, but they did not.
There was a choice thrown around by our leadership. We could abandon the civilians. Doing so would free up significant portions of our military apparatus. But how could we do that and still say that we are fighting for the defence of our worlds; when we choose to abandon the people we are fighting for. The idea was struck down almost as quickly as it was spoken about. But just the thought that it was an option frightened me.
We were known for our arts and culture, so our defence capabilities were often seen as lacking. This was an aspect that the senior command of our system did not deem a high priority. It was not long after they decided that they would find out how wrong they were.
Our once tall and proud cities have now been brought low both by the invading force and arrogant men who deemed it necessary to fight tooth and nail for each patch of earth. Many of those men sat away in their bunkers, never seeing the horrors of war with their own eyes. Still, they thought themselves qualified to lead the campaign. I was one of many who objected to these individuals running the show, but what could we do. They had all the powers of the military backing them.
I am not one for the political scene. I can never understand why these people in their safe places are allowed to dictate who gets to live or die. I have seen too many friendly faces wind up in either the missing person log or the deceased file. Only when they come down to see the carnage of the battles do they realise how they could do better for those on the field. Only then are they more cautious with their words and actions.
After hearing about my grievances with our leadership, my father once pulled me aside. ‘Do not rock the boat too much, my dear. Nothing good will come of it. This is the way it has always been’.
‘But why should it continue to be so,’ I said, biting back words of aggression.
‘I do not wish for you to make enemies on both sides of the war. It is how you will likely end up dead. And I do not want that to happen to my little girl’.
‘I am sorry, Dad. But there has to be someone that is willing to put up a fight when they see something wrong,’ my face turned red, and my hands curled up. The frustration was increasing with every moment of this conversation.
‘I know’, he said in scant but a whisper. His hand gently caressed the side of my face. It was a gesture he had been doing since I was young. He knew how to quieten my rage.
‘If this is the path you are willing to take. Then just know that your father is always on your side. I only wish to see you not be harmed’.
My father has always been a man who never wants to cause too much trouble. He has tried to instil that idea onto me, but for all his efforts, it hasn’t worked. I have seen far too many people take advantage of the kindness my father brings to the table. After seeing that for most of my life, I couldn’t allow that to be me as well. My father means well in everything he does for me, and I care for him above everything else. He has been my rock in these troubling times, someone I can rely on with everything.
My father chose not to take an active role in this war but to work from the sidelines doing what he does best working logistics. He ensures we have everything we need when holding back the enemy.
What is now considered a questionably normal Tuesday never used to be. But I hear you asking what is a new normal Tuesday for me; I’ll gladly answer that question for you. My day-to-day experience doesn’t change drastically anymore; I have gotten myself into a routine. But my routine involves inserting myself behind enemy lines in with a team of three others to scout out enemy movements and troop placements. I have a broad scope of operational ability. We have taken it upon ourselves several times to relieve the enemy force of one of their commanders.
Operating behind enemy lines is certainly not without its risks; there would be no rescue for us if we were captured. Our very existence breaks the rules of engagement. Why are there rules of engagement in a war? It’s a question I asked myself multiple times in the previous months. It is best explained as outlines that both sides want the conflict to head towards. One most notable is the rule against specifically targeting non-combatants and civilians. Neither side wants wanton bloodshed. But neither side wants to lose this conflict.
My command created my covert group in response to an action the enemy took; which arguably violates the rules They targeted a theatre filled with refugees, with no weapons of any kind to be considered a threat. The theatre was clearly marked as a refugee outpost. Every aspect of that day was burned into my brain. One day a group of scout ships hovered overhead before continuing on their way. Many thought nothing of it because that was now a regular occurrence. The image burned into my mind was of a young child playing just in the courtyard of the refuge centre when a bomber passed overhead. The bomber opened its bay doors. From the sky fell hundreds of bombs. Only seconds passed between leaving the doors and making contact. There was little anyone could do but watch. The child had no care in the world and continued playing.
The explosion roared throughout the city. Half of the main building was gone in the first wave of bombs. Anything made of glass was shattered within a ten-mile radius. Secondary explosions went off seconds after the first, destroying more buildings. The entire area had become unsteady, with concrete walls being held up by cracked pillars. in a matter of minutes, several of the surrounding buildings gave way under their own weight.
Through the smoke and debris, a small toy could be seen. Its small little edges melted in the immense heat. Fires erupted through the refuge area and nearby buildings. The smoke trailed into the sky, turning the midday sun orange. The smell was the worst thing. The smoke and haze carried a smell of burning meat mixed in with all kinds of fumes.
Now you have heard all that has brought us to this current situation. I am a woman who was never supposed to be facing down the wrathful hordes of an opposing military. When the call to action came, I could not stand idly by.
I have rewatched the video footage of that fateful bombing day; each sight has been burned into my mind. I continue to watch it to remind myself why I decided to join the military. It never ceases to keep me motivated.
Both sides of the war marked that event off as an accident caused by the fog of war. They say it was all a matter of miscommunication. But those who fight on the front know it is all a lie meant to keep the current rules of engagement in place.
For many people on our side, that was the breaking point. We had lost faith in our government and the rules. Citizens and soldiers alike felt the sting of pain at the mere thought of the incident. Many of us had known someone taking shelter within that refugee shelter. Many of the refugees felt there was nowhere on the planet that was safe for them. Who could keep them safe if their own government had failed to do so? That was a question many people were asking. There was little that many people could do but take each day as it comes and try to keep their loved ones safe.
As we used to think, we are not a warrior class of people; we never wanted to be in this fight. While many of us have taken up arms to defend our homes, many just want to live their lives in peace. I find no fault with either of them. I have seen the horrors of war first-hand, and if people do not wish to take that action upon themselves, they are allowed to do that.
You might ask, but where was the outside help? To that, we would say we do not know. It is unlikely the Alliance government would allow one of their systems to come under attack and become occupied. There is little informational traffic in our own star system. Connection to the outside galaxy is all but cut off. There is no means to call for help that won’t be intercepted by the enemy ships in orbit. We are on our own in the fight.
—
Our civilisation has grown and developed over the centuries since the first colonist stepped foot on the ground. Many thought the planet would be too hard to colonise, but the hearty few who weathered the storms brought forth our great civilisation.
Some hundreds of years ago, the people who first came to this system built these clocktowers to resemble the old world. Our people have always been very attached to our history. It is what binds us to the people of the past. That is probably why we spent so much time dedicating ourselves to the study of history. My people were scholars, not soldiers. But there is no mistaking that our scholarly days have long since passed. We could be crawling closer to our doom with each day, and we wouldn’t even know it.
Sitting atop the burnt-out tower, I could see the landscape sprawl out in front of me. New fires have sprung up around the city each time I come up here. I can see the street that I once called home, the building in which I grew up now a deserted ruin. Missile craters littered that entire area; it is a wonder how that building has kept up most of its structure. Why do I do this to myself? I ask each time I’m up here. Looking out at the view, I remember back to when this city was a lush and peaceful oasis. You would hardly believe that now, with its deep-rooted scars marring the landscape.
Each day brings with it new dangers. Who can tell what might happen for us in the coming days; we still must fight. The city won’t be saving itself, I always think to myself. I must do what I can to return life to what it once was. But for many, that option has long since passed.
The sun rises on another day. That is a blessing in itself, I suppose. We made it through another day. Each day we are alive, the more pain we can reap upon the enemy. The enemy scarcely knows we exist, only through rumours and damage we leave in our wake. Them not knowing we exist is just how we like it. Operating in the shadows allows us a great deal of operational freedom. The enemy can never prepare themselves for an attack if they do not know when or where the attack is coming from.
Our skills and tactics have developed with each successful and even unsuccessful mission. We review everything after each mission and investigate what we could have done differently and what is done well. There was no handbook for us when we started this little campaign of ours, so we are writing one as we go along. But having us plough the way will make it easier to create other units in the near future. Which I surmise is something command would like to do.
A flare sparks into the sky some kilometres to my east. We are needed at the forward operating base.
‘Jayla,’ Carlisle called up to me, ‘I think that is our cue to head back into action’.
‘I’ll be right down’, I called back to him.
I sat there for a few more brief seconds, savouring the dawn sun and crisp air. The climb down was easy; I had done it many times. I always wonder if that’ll be the last time I am able to come to this place. But only time will tell.
My squad was gearing up as I walked past them. Gathering together everything we could possibly need for the day. It was time for us to do our job.
‘Let’s wreak havoc today,’ I said with a wry smile as I placed my suit’s helmet on.
I have been using writing prompts a lot lately! Such good suggestions for exploring a different genre.