Writing The Wrongs

[Black Sand]

Longstreet’s Estate
October 9, 2517 - Beaumonde
2:02 A.M Local Time

The shuttle raced down from orbit, carrying inside its cramped cargo of brown wearing men. They seemed very similarly dressed to the way many people on the Rim were. All in cheap, thick, brown colored overcoats and dusters. Some wore similar ones to what they had worn during the war, while others just war coats that were similar in color but could be classified as street clothes. It was almost like they were a uniformed force, but none of them war helmets. The one thing they all had in common was that they were carrying a large variety of weaponry.

Some rifles, some machine guns, this group was bringing with it an armory’s worth of guns, and a small army to use them. They didn’t talk very much, as they were slightly distracted by the shaking that happened as the small ship moved through the atmosphere. It was a bit loud inside the cabin with engines audible, but that wasn’t as bad as the smell. Most of the men inside were nose deaf to it anyway, and took no notice of the terrible man stink that filled it up.

Some of the men chewed tobacco, and would spit it out onto the floor. No one was smoking since it would cause the area that they were sitting in fill up with a haze that would make the ride down even harder to endure.

After they’d made it through the atmosphere the craft was charging down towards a specific spot on the ground, a large, isolated home which was a good half hour from the nearest city. The home of the former General Longstreet.

The pilot of the craft flicked a switch, which made a light that was in the back go from red to yellow. Seeing this, one of the men stood up. He had a thick mustache and a shaved head which was hidden under a cowboy hat.

”Alright, were almost at the drop point!” He yelled loudly over the sound of the engines. ”Once the doors open, Hoover’s group moves in with me through the west entrance! Bobsy goes to the east! And Vernon, you run to the rear! Leave a two men at the garage, to make sure no one gets out that way!”

The group was familiar with the plan, but it didn’t hurt to hear it one more time. It was always best to make sure you knew exactly what you were supposed to do in a mission like that.

”Once were inside, you race through to the upper levels, but make sure you cover EVERY hallway before you go upstairs!” The leader of the group continued. ”Shoot anyone that isn’t the bastard General on site. But you are not to kill him! Wound him if you must, but the message must be made clear!” The man spat out. ”Understand!?” The man thundered out.

The men all gave mixed roars and yells to show they’d understood what was being ordered. It had been a long time since they had had to deal with strict army discipline, and this wasn’t exactly a military force. Given that, it was fine that they weren’t all giving a “sir, yes, sir”

The leader of the men turned towards the far front of the craft and yelled out. ”Pilot! Activate the jammer!”

There was no response, but the pilot activated a system which wasn’t in the original designs of the small civilian craft. He did it in good time too, as they were just about to approach the ground. It would stop any transmissions from being sent, even by them, for the next fifteen minutes or so, depending on how long the battery of the device held out. It was working off a very heavy charge so it wouldn’t be as long as it would in other more energy efficient devices.

The shuttle came over the quietly lit home. There were lights on inside, but they weren’t on full brightness since it was the middle of the night. Outside the paths were all still lit, and lights shown over the doors. The pleasant atmosphere was greatly disturbed however by the arrival of the large and loud vehicle, which dropped down just in front of the house on a low cut grass.

The light in the shuttle went green, and the leader of men roared out ”GO!”

The door at the back of the shuttle opened up, and the group of nearly twenty men charged out from the back. They all screamed out sort of war cries and swarmed over the grounds. A guard came out from the front door and began to fire at them, but was swiftly cut down by the hail of bullets from the rugged invaders.

The group splintered into smaller squads and went to their designated places around the house. One group ran through the middle and to the garage that was at the center of the large building.

They wasted absolutely no time smashing open the doors with quick explosives, and charging into the house. It was surrounded, and they were inside. It was only a matter of time before everyone who was inside the house would be dead.

[Sebastion Longstreet]

Waking from a labored sleep, Longstreet sat up from his bed. He had been having trouble sleeping the past two nights, and the sound of a loud engine outside the house caught his attention. He got up slowly and got to his feet, wondering what was going on outside.

To his knowledge there wasn’t anything serious that he had happen, and it wouldn’t have been Carl, since he likely would have called before he came to the house. He stepped across his large room and over to the window. Suddenly a blinking red light and a buzzing sound echoed through the house. It was the alarm.

Longstreet peered out to see a cheap transport, a classification he recognized sitting in front of his home, with a large group of men coming out of it. He was almost transported back in time nine years, knowing that was a shuttle craft that was frequently used by Independents, even under his command, to raid a target quickly. But this wasn’t the same, since he was always on the other side of them, never actually seeing what it was like on that side of the transport.

He was filled with fear, knowing that he didn’t have enough security at the house to deal with an attack like that. His face dropped a bit, but he kept his serious expression. He quickly moved over to his coat rack, and through on his coat. He knew it was cold outside, and he’d need to get out there if he had any hope of escape. He might be able to make it to the garage and get in one of his cars, and make a break for Bellforge.

Putting on his coat quickly, he clicked his signal ring, which would call the police to his home. But they wouldn’t be there for at least ten minutes, which was a serious issue. He’d probably have to defend himself since his security staff of five was likely already down men, since he could hear gunshots in the house.

He moved to the wall and pressed a button which revealed a hole. Inside there were two assault rifles, and he wrapped his fingers around one. Longstreet left it open and moved out of his chambers.

Longstreet was standing in the strategically worst position he’d ever been in his life, and was ironically standing in his own home. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and dealing with a fast moving force that was on the offensive with absolutely no escape route that he knew was safe.

He moved quickly down the hall towards the main stairwell, not sure if they were there. But he could hear their voices and more gunfire and he knew that they were coming that way. Longstreet then turned around, to go towards the side stairs, which were a bit farther. But he could hear the stomping of boots and yelling coming from that direction too. He moved off towards the grand staircase at the center of the home to see if he could make it to the other side of the house.

In his view there were five men in the main hall which were pouring up towards the stairs. Longstreet fired several times with his rifle, and moved back the way he came. From beyond he could definitively hear the words “There he is!”
Longstreet didn’t know who they were or why they were there, but he didn’t give himself great odds of escape. He moved through the halls, and realized that he was surrounded, and the walls were closing in. He ran through another short hallway and found himself inside the ‘Memorial Room’.

The Memorial Room was large, nearly as large as Longstreet’s bedroom. It had at the back a large, black wall, with a hologram projector at the base. On the wall, there was the carved engraving of an Independent flag, with the two stripes and the upside down star at the middle. It was completely without color however, but it stood out. All over the wall however, there tens of thousands of names, all written in tiny letters.

On this wall there were the names of every soldier that had served under Longstreet’s command during the Unification War. The hologram projector would present an image of any soldier that was named, as well as their place of origin and war record. Longstreet had it built as a private shrine to the accomplishments of his men during that long and bloody conflict. But now he found himself trapped inside of it.

There were three ways into that room, and he could hear men at all sides. It hadn’t been his intention to get trapped there, but he hadn’t had any time to think about a deep escape strategy. He had been prepared for thieves, but he’d never been prepared for this.

In the hallway straight across some men appeared, and Longstreet opened fire. He hadn’t had many situations where he needed to shoot at other men, and this was a bad time to start.

He knew he’d hit one of them, but suddenly he felt a severe pain in his knee and he could no longer stand.

”Gah!” he yelled, realizing that he’d been shot. ”Dammit.” he muttered to himself.

Longstreet could hear the boots and the yelling coming towards him on the floor. The rifle that had been in his hands had fallen forward and was picked up by the men in front of him.

One of them gave orders to the others, and several of them left. In front of Longstreet were still five men, each with their weapons drawn on him. One of them stepped forward. He had a big mustache and a cowboy hat. In his usual manner Longstreet was silent and stern, expecting this to be his end.

But the man revealed a small recording device, and clicked it, and a voice Longstreet didn’t know began to speak.

[Black Sand]

The men had completely raided the house. It had been only minutes since they’d landed and already there were five dead guards in the huge house. They had a few of their own shot, but none were dead. They had charged up through the stairs, and barged through every room. They didn’t waste time checking for anything. They just gave a quick look and moved on.

They’d charged the stairwells, and when they’d been at the grand staircase they found Longstreet at the top of the stairs. He shot at them, but didn’t hit anyone. The men gave chase and followed him through the house. He was on the third floor and they knew they had him surrounded. Some of them wanted to just shoot him right out and be done with it, but they had their orders.

They’d gotten him cornered and Longstreet had shot another one of their men. No one was sure though who had actually managed to shoot Longstreet’s leg. But what they did know was that he was subdued, and they charged at him. They grabbed his weapon and the leader of the group, the man with the mustache and bald head under the cowboy hat looked to some of the others.

”Make sure the rest of the house is secure, and grab anything useful.” This was still a raid and he knew that it was important to take things of value. There were almost twenty men there, which meant they could carry quite a lot.

He then looked down at the thin, older man that was at his feet, and moved forward. The traitor General was staring right back at him. But the man with the mustache knew his orders, and was ready to finish them. He reached into his pocket and revealed a small audio recording device. He clicked a button and the message began to play.

[Sherman Bragg]

The audio device began to play and a voice was heard. It was clearly an older man, and he had a rim world accent.


”General Longstreet. You don’t know me, and we’ve never met. I have never seen you before in my life, but I know you quite well by reputation. I would have preferred we actually met in person. Unfortunately such a meeting was never possible.

You might be surprised, but I believe we are a common sort of people, you and I. We’re both older men, leaders of men, with a strong sense of purpose. We both answered the call to war, and stood strong through out its duration. We both command a great deal of respect for our accomplishments, and have the admiration of many.

In spite of our similarities however, we do greatly differ. You’re a man of loose morals, whose conscious knowledge of right and wrong have been corrupted. Corrupted by your greed. While I do respect the leadership you gave to the Independents, you are a traitor to your own cause.

You led men into battle, but you were rich and prosperous. Fat with your with your war profits, unaffected by any of what occurred during that horrible conflict. You made decisions that led thousands of people to their deaths, but you weren’t really risking anything. And after it was over, you threw all of that aside, and chose loyalty to the Alliance?

There’s a reason we call you traitor General. It’s because you pretended to love our cause, but you were never truly one of us. We lost sons, daughters, wives, husbands, and our homes. But you didn’t lose anything. And in the end, you took it all and spat in our faces.

Well that’s the real difference between us General. I do have a sense of right and wrong. And I am righting the wrongs in the galaxy. The war isn’t over. They can pretend like it is, and maybe there aren’t as many of us as there used to be, but we’re far from done. And Black Sand will continue to ride and right the wrongs. The Alliance is wrong, and you are just a product of that wrong. And so, it will be made right.

I do sincerely hope in the next life you will understand the monster you have been in this one. Goodbye General.”

The Recording switched off.

The man with the mustache then reached into his coat, and removed a six-cylinder revolver. He aimed it at Longstreet’s chest, and fired all six shots.