Alex Kaminski's Blog

Goal: >600 words with only using “I”, “Me”, “My” twice in the story.

I heard the footsteps before the others in the room and glanced towards the door. It swung open and the three men in grey suites walked in. They walked side by side, for not one of them dared give the impression that they were more important. They held their heads up, their suites cleanly pressed, their bodies well kept; for they surely have not wanted for a thing in their life. Walking behind the three men in grey suites were the body guards. They were as impressive as any imperial soldier any of us had seen. The energy weapons they carried were two generations ahead of the standard imperial issue. The bodyguards’ full body suites sparkled in the light, no doubt the suites were coated with the energy absorbing paint we’ve heard about.

The three men continued ahead with an arrogance and confidence that only they could possess. They were walking into the most dangerous area in this solar system, but the three men showed not a care in the world. The throne room was overflowing with rebels, for they had all come to watch the execution of the emperor. Yet, as the three men continued walking the rebels gave way and moved to the sides of the room. Nobody dared say a word or block their path.

Even the rebel leader, my dad, seemed nervous and unsure. His head was dripping with sweat and his mouth was cringing. Nobody had expected the three grey men to be alive, let alone be here. Everyone in this room had heard stories about the men in grey, each story passed down from generation to generation, from father to son. My favorite bed time stories involved their battles and speeches.

The taller of the men in grey stopped in the middle of the room while the other two continued walking towards the emperor. As they reached the emperor, who was bound and shackled and kneeling on his knees, the rebel guards slowly took a step backwards. The guards did not want to interfere and they definitely did not want a fight with the three men in grey suites. They looked at the rebel leader for approval to back away, and he nodded their way.

The two of the men in grey helped the emperor rise to his feet. One of them then spoke to the taller man in grey who still stood at the center of the room. The rebel leader looked at his aides to see if anyone understood what was said. Everyone shook their head, no. The rebels had spoken in English, a dead language that hasn’t been spoken in our solar system since before the great war.

The man in a grey suit who was standing in the center of the room then said something to his bodyguard. The bodyguard quickly went and stood guard at the door they had just come through. The man in grey then spoke in the native tongue of this solar system, Chinese.

“We are old men now. Yet, you no doubt know who we are and what we are capable of. Hear me now, rebels of Aluza. Hear me, emperor of Aluza. Your fate depends on your choice, and a choice must be made now. This land has seen much of war. Too much. Too much blood has been shed. We know the cause for which you fight and it is a noble one. But actions today do not erase those of the past or future. ”

The man in a grey suit paused, turned, looked the rebel leader and continued in English: “we are here for you, Admiral Zhuhu. You are in violation of direct orders.” The rebels looked around confused, what did the men in grey want with the rebel leader? And why were they speaking to him in English?