I changed a few things in the order of events in the series. I have decided to spread the flashbacks that Max has into several years even though they looked to be the same ages throughout. I have no clue about the designations of some of them so I made them up. Some of the characters I have made up so some of them will die in the escape. They will choose names in a couple of chapters so it should be easier to remember who is who then. I have also borrowed some of the dialogue from the actual series. Feedback welcome.
Nomlies in the basement
It was well past midnight but the barracks housing Unit 1 was far from peaceful. 599 observed his younger unit companions talking in hushed whispers as they crowded around 493's bunk. 493 was about to launch into one of his dramatic and exciting stories and 599 quietly climbed from his bunk, preparing to go and join in with the excitement. Normally he would have ordered them back to their beds, knowing that they would be too tired for training the next day, but tomorrow was different. Tomorrow they would embark upon their first escape and evade mission. They were seven years old and their superiors had decided that they were ready for this next important step in their training.
599 would never reveal his true feelings to anyone, but he felt uneasy. He knew that he was an excellent CO, and his superiors had confirmed this to him several weeks ago. He was proud of his position, proud of his unit and he made sure that they worked hard and obeyed orders. Yet he also knew that perhaps he cared a little too deeply for the unit members. On the odd occasion that he had been allowed to read anything other than military journals, he had been astonished to read about civilian family life, and he realised that he had come to think of the members of his unit as brothers and sisters. The thought disturbed him because he knew such feelings were not acceptable, and it was important to remain professionally detached. His unease stemmed from his certain knowledge that some of them were likely to be injured – or even killed.
He tried to push these unwelcome thoughts from his mind as he quietly walked across the room to join them. His gaze gradually shifted around the group as he reflected on the individual qualities which defined who each of them was. There was 452, his second-in-command, who was the only one that could match him in a fight, blow for blow. In some ways she was his favourite; he loved how tough she was and how she rarely slept at night, even the way that she left one corner of her bed just that little bit unmade every day in an act of defiance. Next to her was 544, one of her closest friends. 544 was the wild one of the group, bold and enthusiastic, but only when she was with her Unit at night, where no prying eyes could see her. To their left, closer to 493's bed was 221 and 713 who were the best of friends. 599 would not be surprised if they became one of the 'couples' that he had read about. 221 loved explosives and 713 loved guns, a match made in heaven.
938 was sitting on the bed. He was the best mechanic in the group and had a good sense of humour. Next to him sat 346, the shyest of them all, although she threw herself into training with everything that she had. 493, was the storyteller, and he had answers for all the questions. 656 and 623 were the motherly types in the group: 656 was gentle-natured while 623 would protect the weaker members with her fists.
On the opposite side of the bed stood 734 who was good friends with 346, sharing a love of not just training but all things military. 288 stood next to her, smiling nervously, aware of the fact that he was not as skilled as the others. He was the weakest, so consequently they all looked out for him. Then there was 481, who always knew what was going on and 664 who was extremely good at every thing she did, only bested by 452 and 599. There was 955 who was best at strategic planning and 772 who loved to train in the wildest of weathers, adoring the feel of the wind against her dry scalp. There were five more leaning against the wall. 898 was excellent at puzzles and mysteries; 121 was an outstanding gymnast; 526 was inquisitive about the outside world; 335 adored all the old fashioned weapons they studied; and lastly 776 who was quiet and shy and friendly, though she sometimes couldn't keep up with the rest of them. They were 599's Unit and he cared about them very much.
599 walked up to 493's bed and sat down on the end of it and as if it were a signal, 452 started 493 off.
"Tell us the story, 493?" 452 asked. She loved 493's stories and everyone knew that she meant her all time favourite.
"Only the best soldiers get to go to the Good Place. The ones who fail...you know what happens to them?" 493 began, reminding them of the time that a guard gave 288 a card with the blue lady on it. 493 knew that 452 would interrupt at this particular point.
"They disappear."
All of them could remember the time when someone from another unit had got the shakes really badly and had been taken away.
"To the Bad Place. Where they open you up and drink your blood until you're almost dead. Then they leave you there for the Nomlies."
599's mind began to drift at this point as he had heard the story so many times before. He decided to give them another ten minutes before sending them all to bed. He watched the scared faces of his family as they remembered the day the Nomlie had launched himself at his cell door, displaying his horrible, long pointed teeth as they walked past.
"They crawl up from the basement through special tunnels. And when you're not looking...BAM! They break through the wall and drag you away," 493 continued. 599 decided to interrupt at this point.
"Well, what do the Nomlies do with you?" he asked.
The rest of his Unit looked surprised at his interruption but kept silent, waiting for 493 to answer.
"They keep you as prisoner of war and eat you up, little by little, forever," 493 answered immediately.
"Look, time for sleep, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow," 599 told all of them ushering them back to their beds.
"Wait, I have something to tell you," 452 cried out. 599 turned to her.
"What is it 452?" he asked.
"Today, when I was being escorted back from the lab I overheard some of the guards talking. They called each other things, names," 452 began looking both thoughtful and worried at the same time. She didn't even need to ask the question that was clearly bothering her.
"We are soldiers 452, we have our designations so we don't need names," 599 replied, turning to go.
"But I want one. I want to be like the other people, all grown-up," she demanded clearly not going to give in. 599 sighed, as others in his unit began to beg for names. He did the only thing he could think of that would get them to bed at a reasonable hour.
"Okay, but as long as you are quick about choosing," he ordered, looking at the clock.
"I think you should choose," 452 announced, "you are CO after all." At the chorus of agreement 599 agreed.
"Okay, after tomorrow's exercise when we are back in here I will choose names for you all. Now bed, we have a long day ahead of us," 599 ordered. Everybody obediently headed for their beds. Once they were all settled, 599 got into his own bed and automatically began to go over the tactics he would employ for tomorrow's mission. But somehow when he drifted off to sleep his last thoughts were about the names he would give his brothers and sisters.
Nomlies in the basement
It was well past midnight but the barracks housing Unit 1 was far from peaceful. 599 observed his younger unit companions talking in hushed whispers as they crowded around 493's bunk. 493 was about to launch into one of his dramatic and exciting stories and 599 quietly climbed from his bunk, preparing to go and join in with the excitement. Normally he would have ordered them back to their beds, knowing that they would be too tired for training the next day, but tomorrow was different. Tomorrow they would embark upon their first escape and evade mission. They were seven years old and their superiors had decided that they were ready for this next important step in their training.
599 would never reveal his true feelings to anyone, but he felt uneasy. He knew that he was an excellent CO, and his superiors had confirmed this to him several weeks ago. He was proud of his position, proud of his unit and he made sure that they worked hard and obeyed orders. Yet he also knew that perhaps he cared a little too deeply for the unit members. On the odd occasion that he had been allowed to read anything other than military journals, he had been astonished to read about civilian family life, and he realised that he had come to think of the members of his unit as brothers and sisters. The thought disturbed him because he knew such feelings were not acceptable, and it was important to remain professionally detached. His unease stemmed from his certain knowledge that some of them were likely to be injured – or even killed.
He tried to push these unwelcome thoughts from his mind as he quietly walked across the room to join them. His gaze gradually shifted around the group as he reflected on the individual qualities which defined who each of them was. There was 452, his second-in-command, who was the only one that could match him in a fight, blow for blow. In some ways she was his favourite; he loved how tough she was and how she rarely slept at night, even the way that she left one corner of her bed just that little bit unmade every day in an act of defiance. Next to her was 544, one of her closest friends. 544 was the wild one of the group, bold and enthusiastic, but only when she was with her Unit at night, where no prying eyes could see her. To their left, closer to 493's bed was 221 and 713 who were the best of friends. 599 would not be surprised if they became one of the 'couples' that he had read about. 221 loved explosives and 713 loved guns, a match made in heaven.
938 was sitting on the bed. He was the best mechanic in the group and had a good sense of humour. Next to him sat 346, the shyest of them all, although she threw herself into training with everything that she had. 493, was the storyteller, and he had answers for all the questions. 656 and 623 were the motherly types in the group: 656 was gentle-natured while 623 would protect the weaker members with her fists.
On the opposite side of the bed stood 734 who was good friends with 346, sharing a love of not just training but all things military. 288 stood next to her, smiling nervously, aware of the fact that he was not as skilled as the others. He was the weakest, so consequently they all looked out for him. Then there was 481, who always knew what was going on and 664 who was extremely good at every thing she did, only bested by 452 and 599. There was 955 who was best at strategic planning and 772 who loved to train in the wildest of weathers, adoring the feel of the wind against her dry scalp. There were five more leaning against the wall. 898 was excellent at puzzles and mysteries; 121 was an outstanding gymnast; 526 was inquisitive about the outside world; 335 adored all the old fashioned weapons they studied; and lastly 776 who was quiet and shy and friendly, though she sometimes couldn't keep up with the rest of them. They were 599's Unit and he cared about them very much.
599 walked up to 493's bed and sat down on the end of it and as if it were a signal, 452 started 493 off.
"Tell us the story, 493?" 452 asked. She loved 493's stories and everyone knew that she meant her all time favourite.
"Only the best soldiers get to go to the Good Place. The ones who fail...you know what happens to them?" 493 began, reminding them of the time that a guard gave 288 a card with the blue lady on it. 493 knew that 452 would interrupt at this particular point.
"They disappear."
All of them could remember the time when someone from another unit had got the shakes really badly and had been taken away.
"To the Bad Place. Where they open you up and drink your blood until you're almost dead. Then they leave you there for the Nomlies."
599's mind began to drift at this point as he had heard the story so many times before. He decided to give them another ten minutes before sending them all to bed. He watched the scared faces of his family as they remembered the day the Nomlie had launched himself at his cell door, displaying his horrible, long pointed teeth as they walked past.
"They crawl up from the basement through special tunnels. And when you're not looking...BAM! They break through the wall and drag you away," 493 continued. 599 decided to interrupt at this point.
"Well, what do the Nomlies do with you?" he asked.
The rest of his Unit looked surprised at his interruption but kept silent, waiting for 493 to answer.
"They keep you as prisoner of war and eat you up, little by little, forever," 493 answered immediately.
"Look, time for sleep, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow," 599 told all of them ushering them back to their beds.
"Wait, I have something to tell you," 452 cried out. 599 turned to her.
"What is it 452?" he asked.
"Today, when I was being escorted back from the lab I overheard some of the guards talking. They called each other things, names," 452 began looking both thoughtful and worried at the same time. She didn't even need to ask the question that was clearly bothering her.
"We are soldiers 452, we have our designations so we don't need names," 599 replied, turning to go.
"But I want one. I want to be like the other people, all grown-up," she demanded clearly not going to give in. 599 sighed, as others in his unit began to beg for names. He did the only thing he could think of that would get them to bed at a reasonable hour.
"Okay, but as long as you are quick about choosing," he ordered, looking at the clock.
"I think you should choose," 452 announced, "you are CO after all." At the chorus of agreement 599 agreed.
"Okay, after tomorrow's exercise when we are back in here I will choose names for you all. Now bed, we have a long day ahead of us," 599 ordered. Everybody obediently headed for their beds. Once they were all settled, 599 got into his own bed and automatically began to go over the tactics he would employ for tomorrow's mission. But somehow when he drifted off to sleep his last thoughts were about the names he would give his brothers and sisters.