Discamer: I Own nothing pertaining to or associated with Planetside (2), it is property of SOE.
Chapter One: Captured
"Get down!" came a frantic scream over roaring gunfire and booming artillery, just seconds before the ground burst into a tower of shrapnel and dirt, followed by the musty air erupting into painfully muted silence as a tank shell impacted just a few feet from the rookie Engineer. He was torn from his turret by the shockwave and sent airborne, desperately flailing at the empty air.
Whump
The Engineer connected with the muddy ground hard, rolling twice before coming to a stop. Body sore and mind foggy, his world went from blurry to black, and he lost consciousness amidst the raging battle.
Some time later, a youthful woman's voice ripped him from his comatose state, "PFC Rivin James Reefer, Second Infantry division, age 22. Looks like he's out cold."
Rivin cautiously cracked an eye open, and nearly shot upright in surprise at what he saw. Kneeling beside him casually was a young New Conglomerate soldier, an Infiltrator from the looks of her body suit, holding his dog tags loosely in one hand.
"Strange name." commented an older man standing behind her. "Load him up in the Sunderer, we're moving out."
The woman gave an exasperated sigh and scooped up the feigning Engineer. "Why have I always gotta do the heavy lifting?"
"Heavy?" replied the older man, "He looks barely over 170, how is that heavy?"
"He's got full combat gear on, Derrus. That adds at least 80 pounds." The young woman replied, and with a grunt heaved Rivin into the back of a Sunderer and climbed in with him, slamming the doors behind her.
"I'll keep an eye on him, you drive!" She called out one of the windows, then shifted her gaze to the "unconscious" Engineer on the floor. He had his eyes wide open now, taking in every detail of his captor. It was a good thing his eyes were covered by dark goggles, otherwise she may have noticed.
She was wearing the standard issue NC Infiltrator suit, a cloth wrapping and bulky goggles obscuring her face from Rivin's gaze. He regarded her nimble frame with dubious resent, noting that she had been able to carry him, yet had the build of a twig. People like that have no business being soldiers.
But these aren't soldiers, he reminded himself. They're mercenaries, pirates, and traitors. Undisciplined, disloyal, and treasonous.
"Enjoying yourself?" She asked for her own amusement, still unaware of his consciousness, and thus not expecting any response. Which is why she jumped in surprise when one came.
"Not especially." Rivin replied hoarsely.
"What the? You- you were awake?" She stammered, drawing a pistol and leveling down it at his head.
"Very observant. Someone give this girl a medal."
"Watch your mouth, Terran pig. I'm the one with the gun."
Rivin opted to stay silent after that, not only because he was afraid of death, but also because he wanted to gather some good information about the NC's battle plans. Should Provisional Commander Waterson catch wind of it, it would be enough to bump him up to lieutenant... or at least corporal. The two rode in silence for a while, before the Engineer dragged himself up into a seat and popped off a question that had been stewing in his mind ever since his deployment.
"Why blue and yellow? It looks childish."
"Shut up." the Infiltrator commanded.
"Okay, okay, Fine. Didn't mean to question your naive idealism."
"Talkative one, aren't you?" she said after fixing him a stern glare that he couldn't see, ignoring his previous comment.
"I'm just trying to manipulate you. So far it's working." he said lightly, trying to keep her on edge and under pressure, maybe she'd break if he kept it up.
"What's your name?" the Infiltrator asked out of the blue, and a little too pleasantly, probably trying to get Rivin to let his guard down.
"You already know. You read it off my dog tags, remember?" then, after a short pause he added, "What's yours?"
"Why do you care?"
"You know my full name, exact age, and rank. I think it's only fair that-"
"Tressa." she interrupted.
"Odd name."
"You're one to talk, Mr. Rivin James Reefer."
"Touché."
The conversation ended there, and the two sat in silence for the rest of the drive, exchanging unseen glares and thinking of things no sane person should. Eventually the Sunderer took a few sharp turns and came to a rolling stop in front of a small, square building.
"No funny business." The Infiltrator stated, her tone suddenly dark, "We destroyed the Republic's rebirthing matrix. You're mortal."
Rivin's chest tightened at this. He suspected she was bluffing, since her claim was so abrupt and outright ridiculous. But such an event was so feared among the ranks that the very mention of it was enough to send a wave of shivers down his spine.
He decided to not to call her bluff, instead aiming to gather information about their whereabouts.
"Where exactly are we?" He prodded, jumping down from the Sunderer's passenger bay and splashing into the mucky ground below. Still on Hossin at least.
There was no answer to his question, just his arms being forced behind his back and a set of sturdy handcuffs being clapped onto his wrists.
"Somewhere you'll never leave." came the delayed reply from the older man who had showed up beside the female Infiltrator. What was his name? Derran? No, Derrus. Better remember that.
"Tress, take him to the Hold and make sure he stays alive. We need him for interrogation." he added, gesturing towards the building in front of them.
"Interrogation?" Rivin inquired.
"Interrogation." Derrus replied unhelpfully.
"Torture. You mean torture." Rivin stated, his voice void of any humor.
Derrus just smiled and walked away. He clambered back into the still-running Sunderer and drove off down the winding road.
"You people are sick." Rivn spat at the young Infiltrator.
"Speak for yourself Terran." She replied, forcing him toward the small building in front of them with a stern shove.
"I mean really fucked up in the head. You're no better than-" he was cut off a gun pressed to his temple.
"I'd keep my thoughts to myself if I were you." She threatened, "Or I'll blow them out the side of your head."
Rivin swallowed hard. Did they really destroy the Matrix? No... no that's impossible. They reached the building and entered, but with the gun still pointed to his temple Rivin hadn't the courage to look around much. Coward! he scolded himself, You don't actually believe this insane woman, she's lying! The Matrix is untouchable! But dispite his self-scolding, he couldn't bear the thought of loosing his life like this. He was an engineer, not a soldier, and bravery was not something he had ever really valued. Cowards survive. Heros die. A more logical part of him said, further reinforcing his desire to play it safe.
He was turned toward a dark staircase in the corner that probably led down to the "Hold" Derrus had mentioned. At the bottom of the staircase there stretched out before him a long, dark hallway with solid steel doors lining each side, muffled cries of pain and pleas for mercy seeping through a number of the cold portals and into the dusty hallway beyond.
A war prison.
This was a relatively new tactic the NC were employing. Capturing enemies and holding them in massive prisons so they couldn't be out in the field fighting, then getting information out of them by any means necessary. There had been rumors of torture and mistreatment, but nothing confirmed. Until now, that is.
Rivin was thrown roughly into an open cell, the door slamming shut behind him with an echoing crash.
"I'll be back soon. Don't try anything sneaky, or you die. For good." Called Tressa through the door, then briskly walked away.
After her light footsteps had faded, the Engineer sat up and took in his surroundings for the first time since they arrived. The room was dimly lit and had a haze of dust about it. A thick metallic table stood in the center with a chair on either side. No torture implements, he noted... perhaps he had these rebels pegged wrong. Maybe they were going to do this peacefully.
"No..." the Engineer grumbled under his breath, "No they won't. They can't." The NC are all traitors and terrorists, they don't do nothing in the name of peace. Only we do that. His loyalistic train of thought derailed itself over the course of a few minutes, and gave way to a contemplation of the one advantage he had over his captors, and the one thing that gave him hope; They didn't know what he quite literally had up his sleeve. This gave him the element of surprise should his life ever be threatened.
Deciding to free his hands before it was too late, Rivin flexed his right wrist and grinned wickedly into the darkness. "Amateurs." he mused, his Chainblade slipping out of his sleeve and into his awkwardly twisted hand. He positioned it over the chain holding the cuffs together.
"Let's see your true colors." He whispered, then activated the Chainblade.