"Prisoner thirty-eight, please settle down."

Aaelia was used to this— the fighting. Every prisoner fought against the guards, even if it was just to take them from their room to the visiting quarters. There was a bitter resentment that many of these teens had towards her, or, better put, towards the guards at large. This last hour had been especially trying, as she and the other guards began to prepare the hundred for their departure. Kane had advised them to remain silent on the matter, and Aaelia had been more than happy to keep silent when dealing with angry criminals.

The guard beside Aaelia remained calm, his hands grabbing forcefully onto the flailing girl's arms. "I will not ask again, settle down or we will have to exert force."

The girl fought harder, yelling and crying. "This is force! I'm not even seventeen yet! I want my parents, I want someone!" Aaelia held the girl tighter as her partner quickly ushered the wrist band onto the prisoner. She spoke, in a tone that sounded as if it had been practiced daily, "I will remind you that, due to the action of your crimes, you do not have legal rights." This had the girl fighting harder, more desperately.

The two began to escort the shaking female away from her cell, where they eventually joined a small group of others whom were also escorting young prisoners. She carried her head high, and avoided eye contact with any of the prisoners. It was best not to feel any empathy, but to remain neutral when performing the duties that had been given to them. Rather than look around, Aaelia kept her eyes strictly ahead, where she saw the opening to the dropship— large and dark. It stood ominous, and contrasted strongly with the bright surroundings of the prison unit.

She remembered when the dropship had been used as nothing more than storage space, holding extra pillows and blankets for the prisoners. Now, it was a daunting image of the plight that the Ark was suffering. She knew that she was not meant to know, but one did not need to be smart to see that rations had grown smaller, and that storage was sparse— the once filled units now emptying out. It was sufficient to say that citizens had become uneasy, and that the council felt that this was the best idea, sending kids to their death.

Aaelia did not know which thought appealed to her more— starving in three months time, or being sent to a possibly hostile wasteland. If she had to choose, she might have said the Earth, earlier on. But she was beginning to get a sense of how much these kids disliked her, and the idea of being on the ground with them was not one that piqued her interest.

Either way, it was impossible. She would stay here on the Ark, where she would soon loose her place as a prison guard— a job that was redundant with no prisoners to guard over. Then she would eventually begin to grow hungry, and others would too. Sooner or later, people would grow restless, and then she would be sent to deal with them, float them, whatever was asked of her. And, eventually, she would probably be floated too, when all of their options were gone and the only peace was a quick death.

The thought should have bothered her more.

Her small group of three had stopped, finally having reached the doors to the dropship. Most of the seats were taken, but the crowd remained large, filling up the opening to the ship and dispersing further as the prisoners were seated and buckled.

Her partner looked at her; he did not want to go in. She had worked with him for a while now, although she did not know his name. But, she did know that he was not very calm in crowds— the term was claustrophobic, if she recalled correctly. Looking at the small girl to her left, Aaelia saw little threat, and for that reason she turned to him and smiled lightly, "You can head back now, I have control of her. Return to your family." He looked hesitant, but she knew that most of the guards had little time at home, and so without much more thought he had nodded and thanked her, making sure to watch her walk into the ship before stepping away.

Prisoner thirty-eight had settled down at this point, upon seeing that she was not the only one, perhaps understanding that she was most likely not being floated. The ship was busy, and rowdy, with even a few prisoners who were not being guarded walking around and trading seats. She shook her head lightly, thinking of the guards that had probably left them there without surveillance, probably to catch the last of their tv program or something ridiculous like that.

Seeing open seats at the back, she led the young girl to the dark section, seating her. She buckled her into her seat, and nodded quickly. She might have said something more, but departure was soon and she could not be sure that her words would be spit back into her face. Sometimes it was better to leave others to their own devices.

An intercom went off somewhere nearby, she couldn't hear what it had said but the crowd began to move— at first unsurely, but then at a rapid and panicked pace. What had happened?

The screens lit up, and a timer started to count down— two minutes until take-off.

The remaining guards tried to hurry their passengers, and the unseated prisoners stood hunting for seats. She turned her back to her prisoner, and looked over at the crowd. Aaelia had sworn that she'd seen something, someone, quickly in passing. A guard, but where had he gone? She could have sworn that she had seen someone enter into a restricted doorway. But why now, when everyone else was trying to leave?

She had to follow. There was something wrong, and whether or not this was an intentional act, she couldn't allow this man to be caught on the ship during take-off. No, she needed to get them both off.

As Aaelia stepped closer to the door, she grew uneasy. He had yet to step out, and the timer was almost at one minute. What was he doing? He couldn't want to be on the dropship, could he? That was not a part of the plan, it was not acceptable.

The doorway stood before her now, and the timer read off obnoxiously, "One minute until take-off." There was no time to lose. She slammed the door open, and a figure at the back of the room moved quickly, hiding.

"Sir?" She stepped in, her hand reaching for her baton. "Sir, I know that you are in here. You need to leave, now. We both do."

He didn't move, and she stepped closer. He stood at the edge of the wall, as if trying to hide, but not very well. "Sir, pl-" Quickly, he rushed out, a gun in hand. Before she could track his movements she felt the pain to her temple, her body growing sluggish as her vision blurred. She felt warmth as her body slowly collapsed, and darkness took her.

"Citizens of the Ark, it is time for take-off."