The waves of the great oceans roared against the rocky and steep cliffs, the winds fiercely pulling flags and tent sheets from side to side in the dark and cold grounds. The tents, however, were built to withstand these common storms. Their structure reinforced and its residents calmly sitting in their lantern lit homes. Each tent's resident's silhouette displayed by the warm inner lights, their laughter echoing -and interestingly enough- mixing with the storm's growl. Narendra had been sitting alone in his warm tent, letting his sore muscles all around his body consume his thoughts and derail his mind from the ambient chaos outside caused from the storm. His body weakened by the mine's deep toil, he had come back moments ago from his shift, letting the others take theirs no less than an hour ago. He was brought back by the sudden sound of a Siren, ringing distinctively across the camp's grounds amidst the heavy water shed. Rapidly, Narendra rose to his feet in a panic as he heard the outside laughter turn in to screams of help.
"What does this have to do with the formation of the penal legion?" The Inquisitor interrupted Narendra in his tale "I asked you how the penal legion was made, not what you useless convicts did on you spare time."
"I was getting there" Narendra said, wiggling in his cold metal seat and shifted his feet around the concrete floor, "You asked for a detailed story."
"Carry on then" the Inquisitor lit her pipe, "but don't waste my time with nonsense convict," she concluded with a few puffs of smoke to the side.
The campgrounds had been the home to the hundreds of convicts living on the little subcontinent, mining the rare mineral found long ago by a rogue trader dynasty. All its residents slaves, with a criminal past or criminal heritage, now collecting this resource deep in the mountains. However, it was well know that these mines could cave-in and shut the outside world from those still within. Cries of terror screeched the words "they're trapped, they're trapped!" Throughout the campgrounds, the people mustered to the mine, even when they did not know what danger lied ahead. The permanently dark sky mixed with the storm and rain, making visibility limited to a few feet ahead; yet the convicts ran across the camp to reach the mine to save their brothers and sisters.
At the mine, men rushed in and out of the cave with minecars and headlamps. Narendra was fighting not to trip or lose his coat to the wind but eventually made it to the entrance of the mine. Running as fast as he could to where a group of men had been yelling and digging. He grabbed an excavating tool and began to dig furiously against the rock wall. A hum was heard from across the wall, hands being tapped against the barrier and cries of fear like a whisper in Narendra's imagination. But this was no figment of imagination, those cries had been real, and their voices signified that there was a chance: they could be saved.
Then the taps and cries ceased, slowly turning into silence after long minutes passed by. The men digging quickened their pace and the minecars squeaking wheels hastily picked up speed. After a good while, a man had been able to pierce the wall only to have water flow out in a burst. Pushing him off his feet before it calmed and flowed out from the hole. In the pierced hole there was no light or sound but that of the water shedding out; even the men had all stopped digging once the hole appeared to look at it. Every man there was now afraid, afraid to find something they did not want to find beyond the black wall before them. Narendra's hands twitched and he dropped his excavation gear on the muddy ground, his left foot having been crushed by the heavy tool and yet he did not think of that. He was looking in the hole in the wall, there he saw a little hand sticking out from inside. It was a little girl's wet hand, her skin light but bruised and blue.
"The mine had been flooded and collapsed" Narendra told the woman sitting across the table, his hands tinkering with the shackles timidly. He looked at the reflection of himself on the surface of the metal table and while the reflection was blurry and distorted, he saw deep within his own eyes, "everyone inside died, except for one."
The Inquisitor let out a puff of smoke and held the pipe near her lips "who" she barked in the quiet cell. But Narendra was no longer listening, his focus was far away with his thoughts and the Inquisitor had become impatient. "Who… Survived," she now used a tone of power on Narendra, he looked back up at her.
"Lishken."