The Plutonian Gambit

The biting cold seeped into your bones, a constant companion in the dark tunnels leading to the North City mines. Huddled in the back of a creaking wagon, you, Human Number 7203, curled into a ball, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs for warmth. Beside you, Mira, older and seemingly unphased, sat with closed eyes. A young boy, new and visibly suffering from the cold, shivered uncontrollably.

A jolt sent a shockwave of pain through your back as the wagon hit a bump. You squeezed your eyes shut, the pain a familiar sting.

Ahead, two Plutonian officers sat in a heated cabin, oblivious to your discomfort. Their silver hair and comfortable posture were a stark contrast to your own misery. Staring at a Plutonian was forbidden, a rule ingrained in you since you were brought to this desolate planet.

The wagon suddenly picked up speed. A sharp turn over a higher bump sent the Plutonians' cabin swerving off the tracks. It was stuck. One of the officers emerged, his thick accent cutting through the quiet.

"Well what are you waiting for?"

Without a word, you and Mira jumped out. The young boy followed slowly, every movement a grimace of pain. The heavy cabin was stuck in a hole – far too heavy for three humans to move. The officers stood by, watching, one reaching for his snap gun. The sight of the weapon, the cause of your own scars, spurred you into action.