Chapter 11: Full Circle
May 12th, 257 (Solar Year), 2704 hours (Local Time)
Talahan V, Eta Cassiopeia System
Kingdom of Blaine, Dorsum Province
The taser round to the back of the head, the captain was not expecting. Truth be told, if he were to be caught, Chris assumed he and Allen would be dragged away guerrilla style with a few nightsticks thrown in. He was slipping in and out of consciousness. He was sure a standard-issue taser shouldn't have had the sort of punch he experienced, but then again, he did start a bar fight and probably seriously injured several men. When darkness finally gave way to light, he was face-down in a cell. The concrete was warm against his face. He had been lying there for some time. He pulled with all his might as he tried to will his body to move. His hands felt as if they had weights on them. His entire body felt like he was on a high-gravity world without being acclimatized.
Roan was there too. He was propped against the wall with his mouth slightly ajar.
Chris tried to get himself to sit up. His back ached; a by-product of getting 50,000 volts or more in the back of the head. Truth be told, he was surprised he wasn't drooling from the mouth at this point. All he felt was pain though.
"Allen." He said trying to shake the mercenary awake. "Come on, get up."
Roan groaned deeply and shook his head. "What happened to us? "
"We were shocked."
"Where are we?"
Chris looked around. He took in their surroundings. It was a prison cell. Not too bad. There was a set of beds on the wall, a private lavatory (or as private as one could get in a prison) a television set, and even a small window. It was pitch black outside. He didn't have his watch though. He had no way to tell how long they were out.
"It's definitely prison." The Marine said. "They must have tased us and bagged us while we were out."
"They want us for something." Roan reasoned.
"How do you know?"
"I don't. Something in my gut tells me that they want something."
"OK. You go with your gut often?"
"Enough."
"Well can you ask your gut how we get out of here?"
Allen shakily got to his feet. He felt a bit dazed. There were bright lights in the cell, which made a contrast to what was outside, further disorienting the prisoners. Allen thought of a migraine that was forming in his skull. Light hurt, sound hurt, but he had to focus. The Captain needed his help.
Roan paced around the cell. He analyzed every little detail he could. He came to the cell door.
"Nice, did they steal this from a real prison?"
"What?"
"This is a maximum security grade cell door, common in any correctional facility that has a decent budget."
"Why is that amusing?" Chris asked.
"Because the rest of this cell is hardly what I would call 'maximum security'. Look at this, cinderblock walls, glass mirrors, a private bathroom, and there's even a window!"
"And a room with a breeze is surprising because…?"
"You've never been inside a Soviet prison cell Captain. You don't even know what a prison even looks like; however, with my help, this is as close to a UEG prison you're going to see."
Chris sat up on his bunk. "So you can get us out."
"Well, no." He explained quickly. "The door is right out. Sure, it's an out-dated piece dah-je, but it still has use. We aren't getting through these walls without commercial-grade explosives."
"So, we're fucked basically."
Allen leaned up on the wall. "Well, not necessarily. Samantha's a tough son of a bitch. We worked together on the Soviet mission for the first time. I saw her work. Her resume spoke for herself. She knows her way around infiltration and assassination. Me, I'm a master of disguise."
"You don't look it."
Allen seemed deeply offended. "Could Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel without his paint kit? Could Shaw or Fujikawa discover Slipspace without their lab? I need tools; resources I can put to use. Get me those, and I'll become another person."
Chris got up and paced. "Well, I don't think we'll be getting any of that sometime soon. Our gear and guns are gone, Jackson and Hera are somewhere we don't know, NICOLE is probably being dissected right now, and we're here sitting in this cell talking about an escape without a plan."
Allen pointed a finger at Chris. "You're one to talk, Vennettilli. You captured Fukoma here on Talahan –DON'T bother denying it, I won't argue about this-, you got your team onto the bridge of Eggman's cruiser. You're the man who spearheaded the assault on the Overmind; for Christ's sake, you're the man who managed to charm the heart of the PRINCESS OF KNOTHOLE right from her xenophobic hedgehog boyfriend? YOU CAN'T EVEN ESCAPE FROM A PRISON CELL?"
Chris gulped, cleared his throat, and said, "Well, I'm sure I can think of something."
"Good boy. If you need me, I'll be thinking of what we'll do after we escape."
Chris thought. This was a prison cell made up of spare parts. A high-security door, but everything else was small-time in comparison. It actually should be a breeze. One tactic came to Chris' mind: The sick man routine. This was a classic; it demanded that one of them act like they were sick and bring a guard to the room. Unfortunately this was a tried and true trick. Any prison break would have used this as a first attempt; he needed to up the ante.
"Hang on, I've got it!" Chris said. "Roan, we have to fake a fight."
"Excuse me?" he said, roused from his thoughts.
"Roan, the way we attract the guards is to stage a fight. We break pieces from the mirror and pretend we're using them as weapons!"
"That…that could work." He said, considering it. "Will the guards hear us?"
Chris nodded. "Yes. There's a hole where they slide the food trays in. We shout and it'll carry."
"Well, who's going to start the fight?"
"You." Chris decided. "I can attack the guards when they come in. Since we have weapons, odds are they'll have decent weapons."
"Ah, good plan. Don't really have much myself after this. Get some guns and go out blazing." He went over to the sink and smashed the mirror with his elbow. Glass shattered and fell to the floor in shower of shards.
"That should get someone's attention." Chris said. "OK, now we have to act like we're really going to kill one another."
"Should be simple. Alright, who gets cut first? Has to be convincing."
"Rock paper scissors." Chris declared.
"Fine by me. I never lose."
Chris chuckled. "Please. You're looking at the '27 schoolyard champ here."
"Yeah, well in 3230, I was declared the Station-Wide RPS champion back at Vanguard. You can't buy publicity like that."
"Pics or it didn't happen." Chris smiled.
"So let's do it."
It was well past midnight by the time Jackson and Hera were ready to begin their assault. The moons were out and shining bright, although the smallest, Lisbon, was starting to sink over the highest mangrove trees. Both of the girls had their war paint on. Using moist earth, they covered their faces and painted simple camouflage patterns on their arms. They also discarded their jackets. They needed as much stealth as they could here. Besides, the night-time air was actually pretty warm.
"Got your knife?" Jackson asked, tying her hair in a ponytail.
"Yes." Hera said, showing her the blade. "Why do we need it?"
"Self defense." Jackson said. "Just in case someone attacks us."
"Why? They've done nothing to us!"
"I said just in case." Samantha hissed. "You get it?"
"I get it." The rabbit said with a snarl.
Samantha checked her watch. It said 0140. Time to go to work. She ordered the major to accompany her towards the wall. There was one guard on duty with a rusty assault rifle in his hand. The way they saw, there was no way to get past him. There was a spotlight shining on him anyway, so somebody who happened to be coming by that direction would see intruders.
"Ideas?" Hera asked.
"We have to be quick. We need to draw his attention." Jackson reasoned. At her feet, there were a few coconut-sized rocks. She hefted one and tested the weight. It was heavy. It wouldn't fly far, but she would have other uses for it. She did pick up a stone the size of a golf ball and pitched it in a high arc. It smashed into the bushes, creating a loud rustling as it did.
The guard's head snapped, gun at waist height. He started to go towards the sound. Jackson crept behind the man, stone in hand and bashed him over the head. The guard collapsed at once without a word.
"Is he dead?" Hera whispered.
"I hope not." Jackson said shooting her a glance.
They dragged the guard into the bushes and relieved him of his weapons. Their plan hit a snag when they noticed their tails.
"Wait, what are we going to do about our tails?" Hera asked.
Samantha looked over her shoulder. "You mean my tail. You just have a cotton swab on your ass."
Hera chuckled. "Just try not to move yours as much."
"It's not like an arm where you can move without thinking, it has a mind of its own!"
Hera repeated, "Just try not to move it as much."
The next step was to get inside the city. Easy considering that they knocked out the only guard apparently watching the entrance. Since it was well past midnight, there wasn't anybody outside. Based on what they heard on PA announcements, King Blaine imposed a curfew at around midnight for people. What could have possessed him to do this was unknown. Many people have thought that for many centuries, a curfew was similar to controlling people against their will.
They sprinted across the street, assault rifles raised. It was clear that nobody was coming but one could never be sure. Hera really didn't have an aptitude for espionage and sneaking because of her profession. As a pilot, one needed to focus on shooting down the plane in front of you. Before the Human arrival though, the Mobian Air Force was a pitiful military branch. At the time, it was a glorified recon unit. Most of their planes had no weapons because truthfully, there really weren't any enemies to fight. Robotnik really started fighting when Humanity appeared. They were a threat; Mobians, at the time, were not.
Hera needed to think like a groundpounder though. Vennettilli's life was probably at stake, and she couldn't let him die. She wouldn't stand for it.
For the next few blocks, they were able to avoid guards. During these times, Hera and Jackson saw how these people lived. They were desolate, living in discomfort. Some of the richer citizens had prefabricated structures, but the poorer ones had tents essentially.
It disgusted them. Why would they live like this? Obviously this was because the UNSC won the war, but a tyrant was ruling them.
"You know, I think they got what deserved." Jackson said.
"Why would you think that?" Hera said shocked.
"They rebelled. Things could have been solved in an easier manner."
"It was a union dispute, not a declaration of rebellion!"
"The way I heard it, it was different."
"Could you two calm down and tell me where you are?" NICOLE said over the COM.
"Forgot you were there." Hera said.
"I'm listening."
"Wait, don't you have a satellite uplink?"
"I can't get it up, but I have the map saved. No updates for you."
"We'll deal." Jackson said.
They looked around and analyzed their surroundings. Hera tapped her COM. "I see a rusted truck, a cargo crane, and a two story prefab structure on a street corner."
"What's the street name?"
"I don't think there is one." Hera shrugged.
"That makes things harder. OK, uh, I have a map on file, but I need to scan every three-way intersection that has a cargo crane and a two story building. Keep in that area, alright?"
They looked around and melted into the shadows. "OK, we'll just wait here." Jackson said.
"Scissors cuts paper." Roan declared.
Vennettilli gulped. "Best 16 put of 20?"
"Quit stalling! You want to get out of here or not?"
"Alright, fine!" Chris said holding out his arm. "Slash me."
Allen smiled for a second, and then a flash of glass came from nowhere. A spray of blood came from Chris' right arm.
"Fucking Christ!" Chris said.
"Relax you big baby."
"When I said slash me, I didn't say 'cut my fucking arm off'!"
"It's a flesh wound. You'll be fine. Here, I'll give you a couple of scrapes on your face."
With the grace of an artist, Roan carved some shallow cuts into Chris' brow and cheeks. It didn't even hurt at all. Soon, Chris looked like he was actually in a fight.
"You look good." Roan said. "What now?"
"Get some mean-spirited threats in the air."
"OK. Ooh, I learned some good ones when I was in the gym a few weeks ago."
"Will they sound convincing?"
"Yeah, he actually got the other guy to take a few swings at him."
"How did the fight end?"
"Well the coroner sure was busy that day…"
Chris gulped again. His throat was a little dry.
Allen took a deep breath and began, "You little fucking worm! I'm gonna slit your fucking throat, drink your fucking blood, and after I get out of this hole, I'm going to personally find your family and fuck them UP!"
Nice!
"Help! Someone help me! He's got a knife!" He then screamed in a convincing manner. He'd know the proper tone. He'd been shot before. "FUCKING HELL! Help me! Someone! AUGH! Don't leave me to die you bastards!"
"Heard you've got a kid!" Allen continued, twirling the bloody shiv in his hands. "What's he, three months old now? You know, I've never heard a child scream when they're about to die. I don't think they even know what's going on. Tell you what though; we're going to have a real learning experience!"
Chris screamed in the native language. A national was worth more to these people than a foreigner. "Ne! Nevo morde! Ne! Caurda! Halp! Plesé!"
His accent was off, but he didn't think it would matter, as a few prisoners were chattering amongst themselves, amused by what was going on. Some of them even laughed and chanted, "Aaú, aaú, aaú, aaú!"
"Ok, quick, slash me!" Allen hissed. Chris obliged. He grabbed his own piece of glass and got Allen on his leg. Roan snarled and grunted. "Not so deep!"
"Cry me a river."
"Don't fuck with me you little ass-rat! I'm gonna fucking cut you open, carve your lungs out and eat your fucking HEART!"
He grabbed Chris and put him against the wall. In a voice that wasn't loud enough to be clearly heard, he said, "I'd like to kill you now, but I want to watch you squirm first."
"Allen, you're not sticking with the plan." Chris said a little nervously.
"Give me a break; I'm no good at acting."
"Bullshit, you could win an Academy Award for this shtick."
There was a sound of boots on a catwalk outside. They started to cycle the door.
"You brought the fucking guards here?" Allen acted, raging. "Stay out, or this man breathes out of a new hole in his skull!"
If anything, the door unlocked faster. They smiled. What Chris hadn't told Allen was that the next part focused completely on luck.
The guards burst into the room. "Airete ney!" they declared with guns raised. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Prisonet, haut et subnactur!"
Chris realized they were talking to Allen because he had the bloody blade.
"Fuck you!" Allen called, drawing attention to himself.
The guard pointing a riot shotgun at Chris looked to Allen for a split second. That was all Vennettilli needed.
His stress made him slip into Conditioned Awareness. He grabbed his own blade, slashed the guard across his trigger hand, wrested control of the gun, and fired it point-blank into the guard's chest. The man had the wind knocked out of him and smashed his head against the wall.
Allen's guard turned to look at the noise. Roan slammed the glass/knife into the back of the guard's knee, twisting it in place. The man cried out in pain before the Captain swept the butt of his shotgun across the guard's face.
The man collapsed without a word, twitching slightly. The great news was that neither of the guards were dead. Their plan worked with distinction.
"Well done, sir." Allen said extending his hand.
"Always a pleasure, Mister Roan." Vennettilli said shaking it. "My advice, go into drama when you get back to Vanguard. You'd make a great Hamlet.
"Didn't he die?"
"It's a tragedy, everybody dies."
They changed into the uniforms of the guards, locking them in the cell. When they went down the raised hallway, prisoners roared and cheered as they realized the guards weren't coming out. Some made bargains if they were let out, others cheered and wished the luck.
For the briefest moment, Chris considered it. He remembered what sort of planet he was on and how the circle of life functioned, but then something inside of him argued against it. These people already suffered enough, some of them probably directly from his actions. He had to give them some slack as he was essentially coming back to raise general hell for some reason unknown to himself.
"Hey, are you UNSC? You let me out, I got a girlfriend! I'll let you screw her!"
"Hey, soldiers! You are soldiers right?"
"You let me out or ima cut your nuts off, you hear me?"
Chris gave a grim smile. "Yeah, I'll be right over there, man. You're here for a reason."
"Hey… are you Vennettilli?"
He froze. The Captain looked in a solitary cell with a mid-aged man sitting in the corner.
"You must have me mistaken for someone else."
"You stopped." The man said, lighting a cigarette. "You turned to look at me. You're him."
"How do you know me?"
You're a soldier. Soldiers know other soldiers." He pulled out a set of dogtags around his neck. A proud eagle was stamped on them.
"I was with the 75th ODST Battalion. We were in the same theater as the 182nd. Name's Bowman."
"Again, how do you know me?"
"I was pals with Captain Benedict. Talked highly of you. What are you, Staff Sergeant?"
"Captain."
"Fucking Christ, they grow up so fast." Bowman laughed. "You're probably wondering what I'm doing in here."
"It was in the back of my mind."
"Well, let's just say I was unfortunate enough to survive an ambush in Dagwood's Cleft."
Chris understood. Dagwood's Cleft was an area in the mountains of the Fratelli Continent named after Clarence Dagwood, the first man to die there. Dagwood's Cleft had a nasty reputation of ambushes during the course of the war and had plenty of casualties to show from it. Several angry letters were sent to Division Headquarters requesting all future patrols avoid Dagwood's Cleft, but all had been denied with DHQ stating in the footer to simply 'stay attentive' in the future.
"You poor bastard." Vennettilli said. "Just you?"
"No, my whole platoon got captured. A few of us were killed outright. 25 of us were taken prisoner. This place was just a supply center when I was first tossed in here. We were killed off one by one. Now it's just me and another guy, but he's somewhere else."
"Well, I'll get you out."
"Don't waste your time. Get your ass out of here."
"Why?"
"Eventually I'll be let out, and I'm not as young as I used to be. I can't escape. You and your friend get out of here. I don't want to know what you're doing back here on Talahan, but you've got your reasons."
"Well, at least tell me where men from the 182nd are buried?"
"Ah, last respects, huh?"
"Something like that."
"Those boys are buried near where Division Headquarters was. Just look around, but first you need to finish your escape attempt."
Chris took a card on his belt and tapped the door's lock. The jail cell popped ajar.
"The hell are you doing?" Bowman said in surprise. He nearly dropped his cigarette.
"Giving you an option. I was never given one, but I feel someone deserves one." He turned and left, leaving Bowman to contemplate what to do.
"Why did you do that?"
"He's a soldier and he needed help."
"But he said that he couldn't go."
"Most people want us to feel sorry for them. I gave him a choice. If he doesn't want to take it, he can close that door and go on with his confined life. If he wants to take a chance for freedom, he can."
"I can't say that I agree with what you're doing, but I believe you're doing it for what you think is right." Roan said.
"OK, I have your location!" NICOLE announced.
"OK, can you do anything for us?"
"No. I have your current location and I cannot update. Best I can do is direct you to new spots. Are you ready?"
"Yes." They both said.
"Alright, I want you to head three blocks up the street and make an immediate left. Proceed at your own discretion. Guards might be patrolling."
They followed her advice, travelling three blocks before turning left.
"OK, now what?" Hera asked.
"Proceed one block down your current direction and turn right."
This was the procedure. NICOLE would give them a new location to go to and wait until they responded. It felt very tedious and as if they were on the front lines. Right when she was about to address NICOLE on this issue, Abigail ran smack into a patrolling guard.
"Oh shit!" She cursed.
"Hey!" The guard said annoyed at first. "Haut et…ah…!" He froze and looked at the girls. Instantly they realized these people have never seen Mobians before. "Ah…!" The man reached for a pistol, hands shaking. "Haut et subnactur!"
Hera kicked the man in the groin. He cried out for a second before she followed through with a reverse punch. Before she could admire what she had done, some of the guards on patrol heard the unconscious man. They came around the corner only to see two figures racing into the night. They raised their guns and fired.
Then everything went to hell.
"Gunshots." Vennettilli said.
"Looks like Hera and Jackson are coming to save us."
"Oh no." Chris sighed.
"You can say that again."
They rounded a corner to see three guards. Chris fired his riot shotgun. A rubber slug impacted the man in the chest, knocking him back a few paces. Before the others could even react, they too were on the floor writhing in pain. Roan kicked them in the head to make sure they had a nice little nap.
"We need to find NICOLE." Allen said. "We can find the girls that way."
They snuck their way through the prison, avoiding close contact with the guards since Chris' face was still a bit bloody from the mock fight. Anyone that got too curious suddenly felt a blunt impact on the side of their skull and fell unconscious.
This prison was small, poorly constructed, almost ramshackle. What impressed them though were the computer displays which seemed ripped from starships and repurposed to monitor inmates. It was a godsend because most of the displays were in English, some in Japanese. Chris and Allen were able to find a directory which pointed to a contraband storage facility.
"Bingo."
"Too easy."
Chris gave that look. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that around me. You know what happens every time someone in my team says something's too easy?"
"I imagine that they jinx it."
"Indeed."
"Call me crazy. Captain, but you don't strike me as the superstitious kind."
"I surprise people. Just don't ever say that phrase again. I died the last time someone said that."
"…how many times have you died?"
"Clinically, twice. I was revived almost immediately after each time. Look, I'll tell you more later, but the longer we screw around here, the shorter the life expectancy for Sam and Abigail is!"
They went at a fast walk. "Sam should be able to take care of herself." Allen assured. "No need to worry."
After walking down the same cinderblock pathways with fluorescent lights, they came to a pressure door that led to the contraband storage center. It was locked so they looked for a key on their belts. None of the cards matched though and they didn't want to send up a little red flag on the security monitors, so they walked away.
"Oh come on." Chris said dryly. "Someone's got to have a key."
"Just loiter around until someone passes by."
They leaned up against the wall for fifteen minutes, all the while nervous from the gunshots from the outside. Soon, an armed guard came out of the storage room. Allen ran forward, wrapped his arm around the stunned woman's neck and slammed her head into a steel pillar. She dropped like a sack of cement; out like a light. Allen plucked the key from her belt and proceeded to move the guard into the nearest dark corner where nobody would discover her.
The card reader showed green when Roan tried to access and the pressure door gave way. What was curious about this room was that THIS was an entirely different architectural style than the rest of the prison. While the building generally had a dark, cold, monotonous feel about it, this room was high tech. Computers were in corners, holograms were draped on the walls, and a deactivated security robot was hanging in the corner.
"Where are we?" Allen asked.
"A different planet maybe. Weren't we just outside…?" Chris added, hooking his thumb over his shoulder.
"It looks like someone actually built this place." Allen noted. "It wasn't ripped from a ship or something like that."
Chris looked around. "I have to say, I am impressed."
"Guys!"
The pair looked at a glass table in the middle of the room. NICOLE was sitting there along with a few laptop computers with wires hooked up to her.
"NICOLE?"
"I'm here." Her cover was opened. Lines of code were streaming on her screen. Every now and then, her face would appear. "Help me."
She was in some sort of pain, but she hid it well.
"NICOLE, are you OK?" Chris asked.
"I've been in worse scrapes. Get me out of this."
Vennettilli unplugged NICOLE from the other computers. She seemed relieved and her hologram popped up.
"Executive access granted. Thanks a lot; that feels so much better!"
"What were they doing to you?" Allen asked.
"They were flooding my circuits with an electronic countermeasure. It was preventing me from giving tactical information to Major Hera and Miss Jackson."
"But you're open to them now?" Chris asked.
"One hundred percent! Hang on, I'll patch you in."
There was silence for a second before sounds of gunfire cut through the room.
"We're a little busy right now!" Jackson said. "What do you need?"
Roan smiled. "Jackson, how are you doing?"
"Allen? How did you escape?"
"Staged a fight." He said proudly. "I assume you're coming to rescue us."
Jackson cursed for a second. "We were. We're going to have to meet you halfway."
"Good news, the guys escaped somehow." Jackson said to Hera. They were taking cover behind a cargo crate while guards pinned them down with fire. A few curious citizens poked their heads out but they were ushered back in by police.
"Well, that made our actions a little unnecessary." Abigail said.
"Yeah. We're going to meet them at the prison."
"Aren't we trying not get captured?"
"Bring logic into this later. Suppress them and cover me."
Hera levelled her assault rifle and fired blindly around the corner. Some of the guards screamed in surprise. I think I got one. She said. Sympathy was not in her thoughts. After destroying a military frigate, even if it was by accident, this was small time. It was do or die here anyway.
Jackson scurried across to another cargo crate. She too took the time to suppress the guards both of them broke the line of sight and booked it down a backalley. Jackson broke ahead and climbed up a wall. She extended her hand to the major who grabbed it and she was lifted up. Now they were running along rooftops, having escaped the forces on the ground. With the vertical advantage, they had a chance to escape their pursuers.
"Jackson, Major, I have your position and I can direct you now. I see that you're taking the rooftop approach."
"It's a way to beat the traffic." Samantha said hopping over a small gap.
"Do you see a building with a trapezoidal roof and two guard towers on both ends? Look to the South."
They turned their heads and looked. They found it, and it was only three hundred meters distant. They just had to sprint that distance, on the roof or not. NICOLE would be able to transmit tactical data, but for the most part, it seemed like a straight shot.
Chris fired his shotgun at an approaching guard. The weapon sounded like a whip snapping, only a little bit of compressed gas shot the rubber slug at the guard who caught it in his shoulder. He spun around to the ground and another round ensured he wasn't getting up any time soon.
"Allen, you want a weapon?"
"Just a baton." Roan answered.
"Really? No gun?" Chris asked, surprised.
"You're cleaning up. I don't want anything lethal in the air right now."
"Suit yourself." Vennettilli said shrugging.
"We're nearly at the gate!" NICOLE said.
Chris nodded. "Radio the girls and tell them we're coming to meet them."
"I'll do that…wait, they're coming right at us!"
"Excuse me?"
"Jackson, Hera! Pull back! They have guards in the towers!"
The warning came too late. The girls were in the sights of two snipers in the towers, and the minute that Allen and Chris exited the building, they crossed a lockdown trip-wire. In all honesty, they probably didn't even expect it in such a pitifully built structure. Five more guards came behind them and grabbed the gun. Chris punched one out but he received a baton in the ribs and another in his leg. He went down clutching them and groaning in pain.
Allen saw what happened and dropped the baton, but was hit anyway. His left leg was hit, and likewise he was on the ground in agony.
"Throw down your weapons now!" one of the snipers commanded. "Do it or we will fire!"
Samantha and Abigail obviously didn't want to die, so they lowered the guns. Before they could put their hands up however, both guns barked and rubber bullets hit them in the abdomen. They both pitched simultaneously and hit the ground wriggling. Guards were there with weapons drawn. A big man with a cigarette behind his ear kicked Samantha over.
"So close." He said in heavily accented English. "You were so close to meeting with your friends. I think they were able to free themselves without you. Now what are you? Are you aliens? You look like the little woodland creatures!" Some men laughed. The big guard smiled. "Can you speak my language?"
Samantha shot him the finger which caused the guards to laugh. The big one stomped his boot on her face and she stopped moving.
"Take them all to the king. I think he would want to have a word with these ingrates."
They were all put in handcuffs. Some of the guards that were shot with the riot shotguns made sure that Chris and Allen's bonds were extra tight. Samantha was slung over a guard's shoulders and Hera was followed at gunpoint. They marched around the prison complex and straight into an official looking building. When they opened the door, it was clear that this was furnished with some of Talahan's most expensive wares. Exuberant pre-war carpets and paintings hung on the walls and smartly uniformed guards stood at the ready. At the far end was a curling staircase that was lavishly constructed. They highly doubted this all was lifted and was in fact furnished after the war ended.
They went up the staircase to the right.
"What, was the left not appealing?" Allen asked and received a gun butt to the back of the head. He staggered for a second but kept on walking spitting blood on the precious, precious carpets.
Eventually either side met at a set of double doors which probably met at a throne room. They opened the doors to a roaring fireplace with holographic suits of armour and replica weapons on the walls. A few of Talahan's indigenous creatures were hanging on the wall; their heads mostly. Some of the toothiest on the rock; the spectrewing, the lycan prowler, the ever effective grey wolf, and even a grizzly bear from the colder taiga forests.
"He gets out, doesn't he?" Hera whispered. "I think he'd put our heads there as well."
"Don't give them ideas, major." Chris whispered.
They stopped and the prisoners were tossed forward. Jackson was unceremoniously tossed on the floor. She still hadn't woken up.
"Kingesse, noi intrudeskí pa voi."
King Blaine had his back to them as he was looking at a fire. His hand waved in the air. "Desmishe. Va plesé."
The guards nodded and left the room, closing it behind them.
As soon as the door closed, Blaine turned to face them. His shaved head shone in the firelight and he wore a suit and tie that seemed oddly under-classed for someone known as a king. Then again, anybody can be king.
"My visitors," He addressed. "it appears that you seem to be causing some, disruptions among the populace." He pointed at Vennettilli and Roan. "You two have a knack for getting information in the most grisly of ways. Now you two…" He said pointing to Samantha and Hera, "… what are you? Some sort of genetic offspring? You are a rabbit and you are clearly a fox. Were you made?"
"No. We're Mobians." Hera said with pride. "We evolved from simple animals and created civilization."
"Oh, don't bore me with your historic regurgitations; it doesn't make for interesting conversation. Now, to matters of importance: What do I personally have to do to you? I think you've upset the balance of what my city stands for."
"Your 'city' is nothing but a giant slum." Allen said with bite. "You herd your citizens and say that you're the link to God. You're a cheat and liar."
"Well I have worked exceptionally hard to become so." Blaine said with what sounded like satisfaction in his voice. He came close to Vennettilli. "What is that around your neck?" He grabbed Chris' dogtags and held them to see. He looked at the Eagle and stepped back. "UNSC. It all makes sense now. You're here to get information. Well, I will not delay you. I've been waiting a long time."
Abigail shook her head for a second, "Eh, what?"
The jungle was as calm as could be. The night was warm and sticky in the trees. Some small lizards climbed the branches, sniffing for prey in the air, and a flock of skeleton-like birds made a deathly, screeching call to the night. All of this was shattered when the whining of an engine pierced the night. A military craft cut through the air and flexed its wings. Its jet black appearance blended into the jungle and before it even touched down, it dropped ten twisted human beings and half a dozen armed commando units. These trained soldiers were armed with suppressed rifles and sported black armor, and their goggles had red tint to discourage the curious. They chattered amongst themselves and the twisted ones took lead.
These men had been augmented beyond what was ethically correct. Locked in a suit of lightweight armour, their senses were boosted to incomprehensible levels, but in the process had their minds reduced to a broken shadow of its former self. They moved about with life-support equipment and neuroelectric monitoring devices grafted into their skin, talking to themselves, muttering death threats to nobody in particular, and their red-rimmed bloodshot eyes darted in the night, looking for something to track.
Soon, one began moving forwards, calling his brethren to him. They looked in the dirt and made growling noises. One of them lifted their heads up; his eyes glowing in the night and began to run off into the distance. The others followed and soon the soldiers ran after them.
ONI was on Talahan.
