The Untitled story of Anya, girl rebel.

The Princess Victoria was in her sitting room, brushing her red hair.  It was a cold, damp night in London.  Victoria was preparing to visit her father, the King of England, in the King's office.  He had something important to tell her.  She continued to brush her hair, looking into the mirror and wondering what he wanted to talk to her about.  As she was thinking, the door to the room opened and her lady-in-waiting silently placed a newspaper on the ottoman.  She curtsied and left the room.  Victoria put her brush down and picked it up.  It was the Sunday Times; the late edition.

She looked at the masthead.  The date read April 24, 2561.  Victoria looked at the headlines.  One headline read "King of England to turn United Kingdom over to the New World Order."  Victoria frowned.  Why does Father want to go through with this?  Doesn't he know that this means trouble for us?  And what about the fight for freedom?  What will the United States do now that it's only ally has sold out to the NWO? she wondered.

It was the year 2561, and a great many things have changed since the beginning of the millennium.  Planet Earth was a pocket of obscurity in the universe, until a group of aliens found it in 2300.  These aliens, from the Andromeda galaxy, had invaded Earth and took over after deciding that the humans on Earth had some purpose after all, and were worth more alive than dead.  These aliens, along with a great many human world leaders formed the New World Order, the government that currently ruled the planet--all except two countries:  the United Kingdom and the United States of America.  Both were in danger of falling into control of the NWO.  Victoria was pondering over this when the lady-in-waiting returned.

"His Majesty is waiting, Ma'am." she said after curtsying.  Victoria nodded and followed her to the King's office.  She entered the room.  Her father was sitting at his desk.  Victoria held up the newspaper she had brought from her room.

"What does this mean?  Why are you doing this?  Have you not forgotten our mission?" she asked, forgetting about protocol.  "The NWO is evil, Father.  We cannot let them take over this entire planet and turn it into yet another wasteland of a planet." she continued.

"I must.  If I don't, they will surely kill me and take over anyway.  It is better this way," he replied.  Victoria sighed.

"What's to become of us?  There's only you and me, Father.  What are we going to do once the NWO is in control?" she asked.  Her father shrugged.  "That's all you can say?!  This is our future we're talking about!" Victoria cried.

"The question isn't what we are going to do; it is what you and I will do once the Alliance takes over," the King replied.  Victoria stared at him with shock.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"What it means is that my advisers and I have decided that you are a threat to our plan.  We've had a feeling that after the transaction takes place you will try to overthrow the government and resume your place on the throne.  Therefore I am sending you to the NWO labour camps, where you can't do any harm," the King answered.  Victoria was shell shocked.  How could her father do such an awful thing?

"I-I can't believe this.  How could you do this to me?  I am all you have left.  You are all I have left.  I-I don't understand...." Victoria blubbered.  Tears welled up in her gray eyes.  Her father was betraying her.  This was the worst thing that had ever happened to her--much worse than the murder of her mother the Queen and her brother, the Prince of Wales.

Her father pressed a button and demanded an escort for his daughter.  He looked up from his desk and looked at her.

"Think of it as a start in the real world.  It is not as bad as you think.  You need working skills, and that is why I am sending you.  After a while I will call for you and we'll go live in the Highlands together," he said.  Victoria could see he was lying.  He doesn't care about me.  All he wants is to live.  My father just wants to give up the fight and live in peace where no one will bother him.  How selfish, she thought angrily.  The escort arrived.  "Take my daughter to her room.  Victoria, I want you to gather the basic necessities and be prepared to leave for the camp in two hours' time," he ordered.  "I have to address the nation."

A raggedy brown haired girl stood outside the back entrance of an old Chinese restaurant looking for scraps.  Her mother had kicked her out of their apartment on Crowley Street, one of the worst streets in Oakland, California.  Two kids walked past, gawking at her.  They stopped once they saw who it was--Anya, their best friend since childhood.

"Anya!  Did your mother kick you out again?" one of them, a blond girl, demanded.  The raggedy girl named Anya turned around, holding a discarded container of moo shu vegetable.

"Yes, she did.  What's it to you, Emma?" Anya replied.  Emma exchanged a look with her companion, a dark-haired Asian boy named Adam and then looked back at Anya.

"Well, everyone knows your mother never lets you out after ten, so you must have been kicked out," Emma replied.  Anya laughed.

"Yeah, that's true.  Well, that tyrant is out of my life for good because I am never going back to that apartment.  Problem is, I don't have anywhere to go," Anya said.

"We're hitching a ride to the NWO Space Station over in Los Angeles.  We got fake IDs; so we're going to sneak on a cruiser headed for Mars.  We've got some spares...wanna come?" Adam asked.  Anya raised her eyes in surprise.

"Wow, how convenient!  Of course I want to come!" Anya cried happily.  She dropped the moo shu vegetable container and walked up to Emma and Adam.  The three linked arms and walked away from the old Chinese restaurant.

Two hours later, the three kids were in Los Angeles, standing around the outer entrance of the Space Station.  They were disguised as flight attendants, complete with uniforms and fake ID cards.

"Wow, that old guy is incredible.  I wonder how he managed to get past the security?" Anya wondered.  Emma snorted in derision.

"Oh, the security in this place is a total joke.  I guess a lot of people figure they can afford extra passengers on these flights.  Fortunately for us, we're not extra passengers; we're intruders in disguise.  If this were New York, or Chicago, we'd be in major trouble by now--they'd find us out before we even get here.  But enough of that.  Let's find our flight.  We're going to make a pit-stop on a man-made island somewhere near Hawaii.  We'll board a star cruiser from there.  This cruiser will take us to Mars," Emma explained.  Anya and Adam nodded in understanding and the trio gathered their luggage and headed for the gate.

They, being attendants, were allowed onto the aircraft.  They took their places and reviewed the safety procedures.  Anya looked around the aircraft.  It was a standard passenger jet; the kind that had been used for centuries.  As time had gone on, and technology improved, building passenger jets like these were inexpensive.  Unfortunately, companies were still greedy, so the cost of flights were still rather expensive.  An hour and thirty minutes later, the first class passengers boarded the aircraft.  Anya stood at the entrance, welcoming the passengers and making sure their entrances were smooth.  Emma and Adam were still cleaning the cabin, adjusting seats, putting trays up, and making sure there were enough pillows and blankets.  It was a late night flight.

Anya wondered what outer space was like.  Space travel was fairly common these days, but a lot of people (mostly lower and working class people) never got a chance to enjoy space travel.  She was grateful for the opportunity to get out of her dreary environment.

Victoria was escorted back to her room.  The escort told her she had two hours to get ready.  Victoria glared at him as he left, closing the door behind him.

"Two hours.  No problem.  Thing is, I'm not going to slave labor camp.  I'm going to the planet Mars.  There's no point in being here anymore," she murmured.  Victoria started to pack some clothes and other worldly possessions.  She slung her pack over her shoulder and looked around her large room.  This would be the last time she would see such luxury...well, for a while anyway.  At that moment she had decided to dedicate her life to bringing down the New World Order and restoring the world to its state at the turn of the millennium.  She turned back to the window and climbed out.

It was nearly morning on her side of the planet.  Victoria rushed across the lawn and to the secret helipad on the north side of the estate.  Luckily for her, she had taken helicopter lessons and knew how to pilot one.  She walked up to the secret entrance and punched in a number.  It was not her access number; they'd catch her if she had used her own number.  She had memorized the number of another pilot.  The door opened and she walked in. 

It was a long hallway that led to a rather small hangar.  The hangar contained one helicopter.  Victoria opened the aircraft's main door, climbed in, and looked around.  It looked alright, and some fool had left the key inside.  Perfect.  She left her bag there and went to the control room.  Using the same access code, she opened the bay doors and the floor was raised to the ground.  She then rushed back above ground and got into the helicopter, started it up, and was on her way.  As she lifted off, the helipad lowered and the doors closed automatically, just as she had set it up to do. 

Victoria's plan was to fly to a private airfield.  There were several aircraft that she could take to Jefferson Island, a man-made island near the Hawaiian Islands.  This was a popular landing spot for runaways like herself.  She gunned up the helicopter and flew to the airfield.  Some time later, she landed at the airfield, on a private helipad.  She showed her ID to one of the crewmen.

"Look, I can only ask that you will keep this a secret.  Please?  I cannot bear to give in to the NWO."

"The NWO?  This island is owned by the United States.  Do you have authorization to land here?" the crewman asked.

"No.  I'm from England.  My...father made plans to send me to one of the NWO camps, and I escaped.  I need to get as far away from here as possible," Victoria answered.

"Hmmm..." the crewman nodded.  "I can let you stay here.  My advice is to try to catch a flight at the airport," he continued.

"Oh no, I'd be caught.  This helicopter is privately owned.  Can we make a trade; the helicopter for a jet?" she asked.  "What are you, royalty?!  Come to think of it, I have a craft you can trade.  It's in that hangar over there.  Now I've gotta go, I have a job to do.  Just leave that helicopter here and I'll tell the boss I traded it," the crewman said, then walked off.

"Golly, the least he could've done was opened the hangar.  But I come prepared for these sort of things..." she said, watching the crewman hurry off.

The flight from Los Angeles had landed on Jefferson Island, and the three were tired.  The flight had gone well.  As the passengers got off the aircraft, Anya and Emma were standing at the exit, saying goodbye to the passengers.  Adam was in the little bathroom stall, cleaning up someone's vomit.  Fifteen minutes later the aircraft was clear of passengers.  Emma walked into the cockpit.

"So this is your last flight?" she asked.  The captain nodded, exasperated.  "Just making sure.  We're leaving." Emma and the others gathered up their luggage and got off the aircraft.  As they did so, Adam complained about having to clean up the bathroom.

"Some people are unbelievably disgusting.  There was vomit and old, smelly condoms in the trash bins.  I've never seen such filth before in my whole life," Adam said.  "Hey, I've lived in much worse.  It couldn't have been that bad," Anya replied.  "No, it was that bad," Adam said.

The trio walked off the aircraft and into the large space port.  They looked around until Emma spotted a monitor screen with the day's schedule of flights.  They walked to the monitor, dragging their luggage behind them.

"There's three space cruisers going to Mars.  We'd better take the next one, just to get it over with.  Should we sneak on with the luggage or as flight attendants?" Emma asked.  Anya thought it over.  "No, we'd better check out all the flights.  See how many passengers are on it."  

"The first flight goes to a rather small base.  It would be way too risky; we'd get caught.  The second flight, however, takes off an hour after the departure of the first one.  That one has more passengers and lands on the largest Martian base.  We'd be better off on the second one.  Where we go from Mars I don't know..." Adam began.

"We can stay there and get jobs until we save enough money to buy a used jet.  Then we can go beyond the solar system, and perhaps even out of the galaxy,"  Emma said.  "How are we going to raise enough money for a jet?"  Anya asked.

"I dunno.  They pay people an awful lot of money on those bases.  Of course, the cost of living is higher there.  It would be cheaper to go to a base on the moon." Adam said.  "Yeah, and the security on those lunar bases are very tight.  We'd get caught.  But you're right about the second flight.  We'll take that one.  Now, how to get on it," Anya mused.

"Wait right here.  I'm going to go to the front desk and ask if that flight needs more attendants," Emma said.  Before the other two could object, Emma walked up to the front desk and enquired about flight 344, destination Olympus Mons, where the largest US Air Force base was.

"Ma'am, will flight 344 need any extra flight attendants?" she asked.  The receptionist opened a drawer and looked through her logs.  "This one is booked solid, and yes, they are in need of a couple extra attendants.  I need to see your IDs, please," came the anwser.  Emma motioned for the other two and they ran up.  The three presented their fake IDs, and the receptionist wrote their names in the log and notified the captain of flight 344.  

"You'll report to Gate 56, Concourse F.  Have a nice flight," the receptionist said, as she handed them their IDs.  Emma thanked her and the three headed for the concourse.

"This is way too easy.  Way, way too easy.  I mean, I am really surprised that we haven't been caught yet," Adam said.  "Well, I'm not complaining.  I am getting the hell out of here," Anya replied.  The three laughed and continued on.

Back at the front desk, the receptionist, a one Julianne Bryce was talking with the head of security and a police officer.

"Those two girls and the Asian boy are heading for the air force base at Olympus Mons, on Mars.  They have fake identification cards," she informed them.

The police officer nodded.  "We've been tracking the blonde and the Asian boy.  Apparently they've been making unauthorized flights all over the country.  The brunette we've never seen, let alone had a problem with.  The feds have told us they're sending an agent to follow them, and interrogate them once they arrive in Mars.  Something about the bases needing more workers in the prisons," the officer explained.

"We really need to step up the security around here.  I'm glad you've got a sharp eye, Ms. Bryce," the head of security said.

"Oh well, I'm the only one who pays any attention around here.  My fellow employees take America's freedom for granted, they really do.  They don't think that the Alliance can do anything to us.  Do you really think one of those kids are working for the Alliance?" she asked.

"Oh no.  The damn feds didn't tell us why they're shadowing the kids. We assumed they were cracking down on all the unauthorized passengers going back and forth," the officer replied.

"Don't be so sure.  One of those unauthorized passengers turned out to be a spy from the Alliance.  This was back in New York.  Last year, when I worked in the airport.  Anyway, I'll be sure to weed out any more renegades," Ms. Bryce said.  The police officer and the head of security nodded in approval.  The security boss left and the officer stayed behind, flirting with the receptionist...

Jefferson Island was a man-made island ten miles long.  The spaceport connected the Western Pacific states with the rest of the solar system, and it took up most of the island.  Two miles west of the spaceport, there were private hangars and a separate airstrip and helipad, for private flights.  Victoria had landed on the private helipad.

Victoria had walked into the hangar, looking around for security men.  There were none.  She walked to a side door, which was locked.  The former princess was prepared, and pulled out a lock pick from her pocket.  She picked at the lock for five minutes, until it finally gave way.  When it did, she pocketed the lock pick and opened the door.

Inside the hangar was one lone jet, about twenty years old.  She sighed. 

"This is parp.  But it'll get me off this island," she said.  Victoria opened the hangar doors, climbed into the aircraft, and taxi-ed out to the small airstrip.  Her father used to have a jet just like the one she was piloting, so she knew how to fly one.  A few minutes later, after being cleared by air patrol, she took off, heading for the US base on Mars.

Two hours later Victoria and her small jet had left Earth's atmosphere.  The craft was already running out of fuel.  Victoria turned on the craft's virtual map, and quickly located a refueling station.  There was one fifty Earth miles west of the craft.  Victoria turned off the engines and let the craft cruise to its destination.  In outer space, there is no atmosphere, so therefore an object traveling in space does not slow down, unless it collides with another object.  This jet was slightly modified so its pilot can steer it without the engines running.  However, in order to speed up and slow down, nuclear fuel was needed.

As the craft cruised, Victoria opened her bag and pulled out a picture of her family.  It had been taken shortly after her father's coronation.  Her grandmother had lived to be 103, and reigned for sixty years.  They had just celebrated her Diamond Jubilee when she had a fatal stroke.  Her father had been crowned King a year later, and the European Union finally fell to the NWO.  Except the United Kingdom--they had fought for their freedom, but the NWO was never far away.  Soon enough, the UK would be overpowered.

Victoria wondered why her father wanted to give up so easily.  She also wondered if she should've stayed and asked him for an explanation.  It saddened her that thousands of English history would be ended in such a cowardly way.  She turned around and looked to her left.  Earth was behind the craft, in the distant, but still bright.  It looked like a giant marble floating around in outer space.  She hoped her father was still alive, and vowed to return to Earth to liberate him and her people.