Zakharov and Yang walked through the hallways of The Hive very unceremoniously. Zakharov had his gun sheathed, but Zakharov could tell that Yang was wary of the "collegue" that he had. Apparently, Shila had control of most of the systems on the deck they were on, so it wouldn't be much a problem if Yang really was at fault, and tried to harm Zakharov. Shila would just activate a force shield and remove the air they breathed. Zakharov felt quite safe with her around.
No Hive cadet even noticed the two leaders pass by. It was a strange thing that Zakharov had noted in the years he'd lived there. The cadets were never exactly hero-worshipers…whenever Yang walked by, no cadets saluted him or even made a whispering "sir" or "chairman". Zakharov wished that his own cadets had been like that, he had no longing for traditional respect. He just wanted good workers to help the University.
Neither Yang nor Zakharov spoke as they walked through the small corridors. Zakharov was hurt; for one thing…if his and Shila's assumptions were correct, then Yang would've been lying for years…ever since the first painfully agressive message from Deirdre. And the whole time that Zakharov had been on planet, he'd always assumed Yang to be his greatest ally. He was indeed hurt.
"It's Jane, isn't it?"
Zakharov was shaken out of thought by Yang's question. "What?"
"Jane. That's your colleague."
He suddenly remembered that he'd never actually revealed the name of Shila to Yang. "Yes, Jane."
Yang stopped and turned around, looking at him. "What is she to you, Provost?"
Zakharov raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Friend? Wife? Lover? Or just plain co-worker?"
Zakharov smiled a little. In three years, his relationship with Shila had grown…to the point where they should've been married to keep doing what they were, but it was rather impossible, seeing as how they wanted to married in the chapel of University Base. Seeing as its destruction still rang in both of their ears, they decided to put it off until the conflict was over and the University was back in action.
He started to answer, but a voice rang out in the speaker near them: "That is not your concern, Chairman."
Yang smiled a little. "I apologize. But you see, you've already given me my answer."
Zakharov pushed Yang a bit, frustrated. "Come on. Let's go."
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The two leaders stood before a old metal door, rusted and forgotten. Yang hadn't bothered to keep the room tidy, as the entire mind control interface was totally automated. Yang swiped his keycard and stopped before opening the door. He looked at Zakharov.
"Do you want to go in first?"
Zakharov shook his head. "No, you first. But don't shut the door, and stay in plain sight."
Yang sighed, defeated. "You really don't trust me at all, do you? After how many years?"
Zakharov shook his head. "I have proof this base is exuding signals of mind control, and you're the only one who's technologically advanced enough. If you have nothing to had, then we'll find out soon enough. But I want answers."
Yang shrugged. "Fair enough." He then entered the room-and Zakharov could hear shots being fired. Zakharov's eyes widened.
"Shila, what's going on that room?"
Shilas voice rang out over the speakers in the hallway. "Access has been granted through Yang's keycard…I can see everything now. There are two men in the room, armed with pistols. Yang is inside. I recommend calling for backup."
Zakharov nodded. "Do it. I'm going to find Yang."
Before Shila could object, Zakharov went into the doorway and found Yang, crutched behind a desk, grasping at a wound in his arm.
Zakharov pulled out his pistol. "Is it life-threatening?"
Yang shook his head. "...N-no…very painful though. Never imagined getting shot before, I guess."
Zakharov pulled Yang away from the desk and up into crouching position. He pointed to the door. "I'm going to grab their attention, you get through the door. On my mark, got it?"
Yang nodded slowly. Zakharov pressed himself up against the desk and armed his pistol. "…now!" He yelled, extending his gun over the desk, shooting it at the general direction of the attackers. Yang leaped for the door, barely avoiding several bullets on his way.
"Shila, tell those men to hurry, and tell them 'non-lethal'. We need them alive."
The firing continued at the desk, which wasn't penetrated by the hand weapons of the men. Slowly but surely, Zakharov could hear them making their way across the room to where he was hiding. He watched as the first one came into view, staring right at him as he raised his weapon. Zakharov raised his own weapon and aimed it at the mans leg, ready to fire.
Fwip.
It was then that he heard the melodious sound of a dart sailing through the air, aimed at the assailant. He quickly fell to the ground as the tranquilizer worked its way through the assailants system. The other attacker attempted to hold his ground, but was quickly subdued by the well trained cadets of The Hive. Zakharov smiled and thanked them all one by one.
He turned to the first man and looked reached for the fallen attacker's identification. His name was Malbora Jones, and apparently he had been inside the compound for a long time, judging by his clothes and appearance. He then reached into the mans pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, apparently receieved recently.
Even if Zakharov didn't know recognize the comm. link at the top of the letter, and even if Zakharov didn't recognize the symbol of the faction, he certainly could attach a name to a face.
Leader Treibek.
Meskha Treibek.
Meskha.
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Curse you, Das! :P How dare you guess correctly! :(
