The Rebel Leader’s Secret

Year 140, Day 85

General Annabelle Hawking shielded her amber eyes from the blinding sun under the shadow of her palm. “Get up, all of you, against the east wall,” she ordered, her smoky voice echoing off the canyon walls. The captives scurried barefooted, past the intimidating General, along rough dirt, debris, and whatever rubble that remained in their ruined village.

Annabelle Hawking was only 24 years old, and stood no taller than 5 foot 2 inches. She had a lean build, obviously athletic, but not overtly muscular. Truthfully, the battle-hardened Serpent Rebel leader looked more like a model than a warrior. Having feminine curves for days which were unobstructed by her lightly armored garb. Her ample bust fought against the stitches of her golden, sleeveless blouse, and her firm, pronounced butt was shaped perfectly under a tight olive miniskirt. Her face impossibly angelic, yet devastatingly sultry, especially her provocatively luscious lips. With skin both rich and tan, but also flawless and delicate. The juxtaposition of her choppy blonde hair tapered around the face, and the stark blackness of her thigh-high, leather, stiletto boots completed this paradox of beauty and war.

Gen. Hawking commanded the respect, love, and fear from her followers, and exuded strength through demeanor and will, never wavering in the face of danger or turmoil. Two years ago the former rebel leader surrendered in the heat of battle, a battle that wasn’t yet lost. The Rebels were left in disarray, scattered and confused they retreated. But, the stalwart Annabelle Hawking refused to surrender. She rallied the forces long after most had lost faith. The Rebels won the day, and Annabelle won the unflinching support of her people.

Today the Rebels enjoyed another victory. The small shanty town of Redstone, a critical location nestled amid canyon walls, ideal for both defense and launching future attacks on the oppressive socialist regime. Annabelle fought for capitalism and opposed the Marais Empire’s policies, primary the redistribution of wealth and equal rights for men. The Serpent Rebels were small in number, but fierce and well equip, backed by the affluent, unanimous donors, and private corporations.

They roved the country of Maraon in a massive convey, always marching closer to the capitol, burning and pillaging those in their wake. The pride of their armada, and Annabelle’s flagship, was a magnificent, fortified tank called the Anaconda. Black as the night and over a mile long, it was an all-terrain mobile base, and the deadliest weapon in the land.

Now she loomed over the spoils of their most recent conquest. “Take your pick girls,” Annabelle said, leering down at the prospective slaves. Whenever a settlement was seized Annabelle would give her best soldiers the pick of the litter. The most attractive female captives would always become personal slaves, the stronger men were usually put to work as low-class laborers, and everyone else either killed or banished. However, Annabelle didn’t indulge in the common rabble found during their raids. Her personal servant was always more than enough to sate her desires.

Annabelle’s officers approached their prizes. Just one of the many reason they loved their leader with unquestionable zeal. Prior to Annabelle’s leadership the Serpent Rebels could only generously be described as ragtag. However, under her command they’d become a serious threat to the Marais Empire. Annabelle’s Rebels had watched their leader make decisions that would break lesser women, and they fought nearly all battles vastly outnumbered. From afar her confidence would appear reckless, and her actions rash. But, her people loved her, because against all odds Annabelle always prevailed.

Their admiration didn’t stop at her character and leadership abilities though. It extended to her ravishing curves and perfect features. Every person aboard the Anaconda from the female soldiers to the male drudges coveted the General’s body with a seething sexual hunger. Annabelle knew this, reveled in it, and used it to her full advantage. Never indulging with her crew, but filling the roll of tease as a powerful motivating tool.

“General Hawking,” a voice called out. Walking with purpose across the r

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