Jean walked beside Monique as he inspected the centuries-old mural. Most of the creatures depicted appeared humanoid in nature, but each had distinctive differences. The various species ranged wildly in size and configuration, but they all told the same story.
It was a story of suffering. Many races had trusted the Stygibora and accepted their enslavement with open arms. There were some who rebelled, but they were inevitably cut down by their own people in service to their new masters. A few, very few, fought back against the voluntary servitude and for that resistance, they were taken by force.
In the end, all who came to live under their reign eventually found themselves branded as sinners and criminals. Those who survived the initial punishment for their perceived actions were sent here to live out the rest of their lives.
“Have you ever noticed what race is on the first carving?” Jean asked, running his fingers across the stone carving.
“I’ve done everything in my power to ignore those things. There is no point learning the history of people who lost this fight. Why should I care?” She sighed, leaning against the cold stone and closing her eyes.
“Because, without that history, we couldn’t know of those who came before. If we win this fight, our job will be to remember them, and allow the spirits of the dead to finally find rest.”
Jean's fingers traced the lines of a chitinous figure, hesitating briefly on the mandibles near its face. He’d figured out who this strange figure was some time ago, but it never made sense. This race was not forgotten by time and extermination. Instead, they had lived long enough to become something akin to equal among the Stygibora.
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“If it matters so much to you, then you’re welcome to remember them. So long as I gain my freedom, I truly do not care what happened in the past.” Monique pulled a razor from her pocket and ran it against the side of head, careful not to touch the tightly braided strip down the center. If she let it grow, it would interfere with her hearing aids. Doctors and technicians loved to tell her the static was all in her head, but those people didn’t have to listen to the constant scratching of hair against the microphone. “I’m far more concerned about the people stuck in these mines with us. When we are free, then I can take the time to care about the past.”
“That’s fair. Though I do wonder why our jailers are on this wall?” The bald man took a step back from the carving, staring down the dimly lit passage covered in history. “What did Rodney find down there?”
“Tools, weapons, enviro-suits, all types of material you would expect in a mine. Though, the part worth the most is the vault he found full of gravitrum.”
The pair walked down the tunnel, carefully navigating a series of switchbacks that brought them deeper into the planet’s depths. Eventually, they came to an archway that opened up into a massive chamber with walls still covered carvings of species past. In the back of the chamber, another tunnel led deeper into the darkness, its walls eventually becoming blank, as if waiting for another species to tell their story.
Beside that secondary passage, a smaller chamber filled with gravitrum ore glittered with the dark light of its innate power. Someone long ago had piled the rare stones high like gold in a dragon’s hoard, waiting to be found.
“Good evening, Rodney.” Jean announced when he and Monique walked into the room, “I understand you have some good news for our little… uprising.”
