I am sooo very sorry it has taken me so long to get anything of any sort out. A lot has happened in between these chapters, and I know I've am not the exact same person I was back then. Not that you care, just needed to get that out. Welll!! Here you go. I'm glad some of you are enjoying this. I really like writing it, though I've been doing most of my writing before class in the student lounge, with one of those lovely M'n M candy bars in hand(or mouth). Yummmy! Inspirational too. I don't know when the next chapter will be out, I have papers due(some overdue hehe), so I'll try and write when I can. Enjoy!
Karl swiveled the glass in his hand on the table before him. Amber liquid sloshed out to spill across the mahogany surface in tiny rivers, catching his gaze in an almost trance. It was a lighter desk than his own at the base, but still elegant, like the rest of his tent. How ironic, they actually thought this plush frill and finery would ease the soul deep ache in him, when one boys smile would have cured him of anything. Humans were funny creatures. They came to rely on each other so much, to become so deeply attached, then turn around and steal that bond from others. So they had taken his brother.
Righting the glass, Karl stood up heavily and forced himself to walk to the small cot. He barely quenched the urge to flop ungracefully onto the rumpled mattress. It just wouldn't do to get everything soiled with the dirt now caked on his clothes. Who was he kidding? Karl dropped unceremoniously onto the makeshift bed, sighing deeply. A deep weariness seemed to settle over the very room, tainted with the smell of alcohol, though he had drank none. The bottle had been a misguided attempt from one of his subordinates to help him through his grief. He didn't have the heart to tell him he rarely indulged in spirits, and most certainly not to tarnish his brother's memory by getting drunk. After the talk with Irvine and the girl he had almost done just that, almost. For a few moments, sitting alone in his tent, looking at a fading picture, he had felt his resolve breaking. But in the end, it wasn't worth it.
Sitting up and running a hand through grimy blond locks, Karl looked down at himself. He was, to put it simply, a mess. One hand scratched disgustedly through the stubbed bearded that was taking over his chin. Brushing his hands against the unwashed uniform pants, Karl heard a faint voice in the back of his mind reprimanding a young Thomas on his perpetual messy appearance. 'Why can't you at least try and follow your brothers example and look nice,' he heard his mothers voice say from out of a past long gone. A ghost of a grin tried hard to break his face as Thomas' saucy retort, which had earned him a good whack on the bum, floated back to his minds ears. 'I am who is!' Looking down again Karl was suddenly mad at what he had let himself become over the last week. This wasn't him. His own brother wouldn't even recognize him, if he were here. He knew that the men pitied him, and he saw the understanding looks in their eyes, but now he resented that. Using his grief as an excuse for this downfall would be an insult to Thomas' memory. And it was about time he started doing something good for that memory, rather than lugging it like a heavy ball and chain on his soul.
Standing up, new vigor filled his body. Karl strode toward the little carved footlocker in the corner of his tent, reaching for the shower bag lying almost untouched on top. He stopped mid reach. The freeze was only a split second one, then he was completing the motion and grabbing the bag, but in that time he saw what he needed to. There, just outside the partially opened tent flap was a shadow, the light enough to outline a vague human figure. They were stalking outside his quarters. There was a spy in the camp. All these conclusions came and went through his mind in less than the few seconds it took to grab his back, which he dropped promptly to divert attention to his moving. In a blur of movement he was out the door and grabbing for the spy. His fingers grasped at thick fabric and slipped over a rough patch before his prey was nothing more than a shadow. He gave chase, but the night stalker melted into the city of military tents and faded away. Karl cursed as he came to a slow walk, then stopped in his tracks and listened for any tell tale sounds. Nothing reached his ears beyond the night sounds of a camp. He knew for certainty that someone had been spying on him now. For a moment as he sprung he had toyed with the hope that it was just a concerned soldier or friend checking up on him, but they had run. Not to mention the feeling he had written off all evening of being watched. Now he just wanted to know why. Who would want to spy on a grieving man who had done nothing more than mope and work all the last few days was beyond him. Moonbay's and Irvine's words came back to him. He was suddenly angry. If this did have something to do with his brother's death, and that of those in the university, he would know soon.
Light and shadow played tag throughout the tunnel as old running lights flickered on and off. Van and Zeek were the only life that moved within the dank corridor. Together they shuffled warily away from the seamless rock that had been their doorway into this world and toward the pinprick of light that didn't seem as comforting as they saying made it out to be. Vans body was tense with anticipation and a hint of fear for what he might find when he reached the end of the line. A stubborn part of him still insisted that Thomas was alive and still waiting for him to rescue him; while another part said he was fooling himself for a heartbreaking letdown. Whatever the outcome, he had come here for two reasons only: one, to rescue Thomas, two, to take down the ones who dared to take innocent lives.
The warning growl from Zeek hit his ears just as the rock to his left gave a groan and began to slide open. Van ducked into a shadow hidden crevice on the opposite wall, feeling Zeek crouching farther behind him. For once he was thankful for the dirt and sand that covered his organoids plating and dulled the glint of sliver from human eyes. Stilling as much as possible, Van watched in rising anticipation the men who entered the corridor. So much for it being a straight shot to the end, now he would have to look for door he couldn't even see in the rock, that was, if he survived this encounter. Settling himself against the rock beside him, Van brought his full attention to the situation at hand, and the men that were walking cockily before him. The loud, boisterous group was a rough bunch and mercenary looking men who were boasting about something he couldn't quite follow, but he could easily see who they were. Anger was welling dramatically in Van as he watched them. The Imperial uniforms stood out like sore thumbs on the three men closest to him, and the rest he recognized from the civilian sector of the rescue team from the university. Dawning realization hit him hard. So they had done their dirty work, and then came back to silently gloat while pretending to be helping. He felt the strong urge to break cover and wipe those smirks off their smug faces. Zeeks claws dug into his uniform in a tight grip, holding in place.
Once the men had disappeared through yet another concealed doorway, Van forcefully shoved his way back into the main corridor, or what he sincerely hoped was the main corridor. He wasn't so sure about it anymore. Zeek was a close presence to his side as he picked up the pace, nearly at a run now down the hall. The light was gradually increasing, forming to become an archway of florescent brightness. Van heart rate sped up, adrenaline pumping wildly, surging hope into a large lump in his throat that he could have sworn was his heart. He knew, he just knew, what he was searching for was in that light somewhere. It may have sounded like some cliché thought from a fairy tale ending, but he didn't care, he just knew. Whether that something would be alive and unhurt was another thought he didn't want to address. Instantly he cursed himself for even going in that thought direction. No time to dwell on it now anyway, he was just a few meters away and getting closer.
A door slid open beside him. This time there was no time, and no hiding spot, to duck out of sight. The man in front of him quickly went from surprise to alarm. Van pushed aside his own surprise, barely holding onto the yelp that wanted out, and swung at the man. His hand cracked on a jaw that felt like glass and then the man was down and out. Van held his breath, looking up into the room beyond the unconscious bandit. His breath issued out in a ragged sigh of relief. It was no more than supply closet. A groan at his feet alerted him to a slight problem.
" Zeek, grab him!" Van whispered urgently.
Together they dragged the man back into the closet and dropped him on a pile of blankets where the idiot had apparently been sleeping before surprising them. With any luck he would think the entire encounter had been a dream. He hoped.
"Well buddy," Van looked to his friend, leaning back on a metal wall, "are you ready for this?"
The organoid grumbled a response, but Van was more reassured by the comforting rub of the sliver head against his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say more when a groan form his feet caught his attention. It seemed their host was waking up. Van grabbed a handy can of oil and dropped it. It hit the mans head with a clunk and he dropped back on the blankets with a little oof.
"Come on Zeek." Van said as he roamed his hand over the wall searching for a switch he hoped was there. A nervous laugh broke through as the he found it and the door slid back open. Sticking his head out the doorway cautiously he beckoned for Zeek and stepped out. "Let's get this done with, and get back home."
Heads turned and followed the irate colonel as the stormed through the chaos of the workers. His stride was strong and filled with an authority that was accentuated by the crisp uniform that stretched over broad shoulders. The clean shaven face was shaded by a jauntily placed military cap that did nothing to hide the freshly dried hair. There was new life in once dulling green eyes, they now sparkled with spirit. And there intense gaze was fixed fully on the one officer who had deemed himself worthy to take over this case. The mans face blanched as he caught sight of the oncoming colonel. He looked quite mad.