Chapter 3: Break My Fall
The room was dimly lit, a single light hung from the ceiling. It swung back and forth slightly, dancing shadows on the bare grey metal walls. A drip of water echoed through the room, some far off moisture pushing back the maddening silence. Alex lifted his head up and groaned. Dried blood caked his left temple, and a pounding headache forced him to squint to the light. His hands we bound behind him on the chair he was tied to, his feet left free. The metal chair felt cold against his bare skin, his ankles and wrists aches against the chill. He wore his tattered marshal uniform, although it was much more ripped and torn than what he last remembered. A door lay directly in front of him, metal and barred. A small slit window was at eye level to a standing man was closed on the door. Alex looked around the room. His eyes felt dry. He blinked to try and feel relief, to no avail. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, counting to ten in his head. He drew a deep breath and opened his eyes again. He looked around the room with renewed clarity. In the corner of the room, a small camera watched Alex. He stared at the small device, hard eyes peering back at whoever was watching him.
Down the hall, Admiral King leaned over a desk, a monitor displaying Alex in his cell, staring at him through the camera. King scowled at the monitor and turned it off. King's back ached and he stretched as he stood up. A smoldering cigar sat in an ashtray on his desk, unused for an hour. The office was decorated with Confederacy flags and medals, and a picture of the Admiral and another man, much older but in the same decorated Confederate uniform. Neither of them were smiling. King looked more like the other man in the picture than he did his younger self now. King straighten his jacket and walked into the hallway. Two guards in full combat armor stood at attention. They had been told to be at full combat readiness since their raid. The past two days had been exhausting for the crew of The Octavian. The guards saluted King as he walked by, giving a lazy wave back. He walked down the hallway away from Alex's cell and entered an elevator.
King reached the command center of the ship as the crew engaged forward thrusters. The ship groaned as it lurched forward, its old hull creaking under the stress. A young man ran up to the Admiral and saluted, King, responding in kind.
"Sir we are now preparing to leave Brontes airspace, warping in 30 minutes," the man said. King nodded and sat down in the command chair. Outside the ship, debris floated weightlessly in space, the remains of both Korhal ships and General Duke's fleet. While most of the Korhal ships had escaped and done minimal damage to Duke's fleet, Admiral King was still brought in to back up the General's fleet and scour the area for any remaining Korhal ships. A fruitless battle, King thought to himself. There was no honor in this victory. A piece of debris bumped against the main front window. King reached down and pressed a button on his chair, intercom feedback playing through the ship's speakers.
"Petty Officer McBride, report to the bridge immediately," King said into the mic. A few moments later, a tall soldier walked through the elevator door. King looked up at the man standing beside, saluting. His blonde hair was slightly unkempt, something King would had reprimanded years ago. He demanded perfection on his ship. King slowly stood, grunting slightly. McBride motioned to help the old Admiral stand but King waved him off.
"Sir, you wanted to see me?" McBride said. His rigid posture didn't relax even as they walked off the bridge. King nodded slightly and mumbled to himself. As they walked, two young pilots ran by them towards the ship deck, holding their flight helmets.
"Yes McBride, there's something I need from you," Admiral King said. McBride raised his eyebrows, giving the Admiral his full attention.
"Anything sir," McBride replied. King stopped and looked up and down the hallway. The metal passageway was empty and silent.
"We have a prisoner on board, a Korhal rebel," King started. He shifted his weight slightly and looked at the officer sternly. "Talk to him, and see what he knows about the Sons of Korhal, where they're going."
"Yes sir!" McBride said. The two men saluted and McBride turned back down the hallway.
"And McBride?" King called after him. McBride turned towards the old man. He had a deep scowl on his face, his brow deeply furrowed. "When you're done, get rid of him." McBride nodded and walked briskly towards the elevator.
Alex pushed against his restraints, the metal wiring cutting into his skin. He was too old for this, he thought to himself. The door in front of him suddenly opened a tall man walked through. He wore royal navy dress and a petty officer pin. The man dragged a metal chair behind him, the screeching metal on metal pierced Alex's ears, leaving a ringing after he had pushed the chair in front of Alex. The man sat down and stared at Alex for a few seconds. He held a file in his lap, a picture of Alex printed on the front.
"Do you know why you are here?" The man asked. Alex squinted at the man. He had blonde hair and a square jaw, not unlike Alex in his youth. His hair hung in his face slightly. The stark lighting created long shadows on the man's face, swaying back and forth. The man himself did not move. Alex squirmed slightly and sat up as best he could.
"No, I have no damn idea where I even am," Alex said, his throat drier than he had anticipated. The sentence came out hoarse and thin.
"You are conspiring with the Sons of Korhal, a known terrorist cell," the man said. Alex made no movements. He read the pin on his jacket, McBride. Petty Officer McBride.
"They evacuated us from a global catastrophe when you were nowhere to be seen!" Alex retorted. Yelling hurt Alex's lungs and he coughed violently. McBride smirked slightly.
"You are a terrorist and will pay for crimes against the Confederation," McBride said. He rested his hand on a knife on his side, clicking his fingers against it. "Tell me where the fleet is heading," McBride said forcefully. He clicked his fingers harder against the handle of the knife. Alex swallowed hard.
"I'm not a terrorist, I'm a refugee," Alex said, calming down slightly. "Those Sons of Korhal evacuated us from the Zerg." McBride raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue.
"What do you know about the Zerg?" McBride said, his voice slightly higher now. Alex could tell McBride was finally asking the real questions. He had wondered why the Confederacy didn't intervene at Mar Sara and now it was beginning to make sense. It was a cover-up. They didn't care about the Sons of Korhal being a terrorist group, they wanted the refugees silenced as to not spread panic.
"I don't really know much," Alex said. He wasn't lying. All he really knew is what Stro had shown him and the few he and Tom had killed. But he had seen quite a bit. McBride stood and began walking around Alex. He shifted his weight, Alex's eyes following the pacing officer. McBride's shoes clicked and echoed in the room, a rhythmic tap in the empty space. McBride drew a heavy sigh.
"You served in the Confederate Navy, 2960 to 2972, dishonorable discharge I see, charged by admiral….interesting," McBride said behind Alex. "You've always been one for trouble it seems." McBride scoffed. Alex pulled at his bonds slightly, a slight sweat accumulating on his forehead.
"A sham, like most other Confederate trials," Alex said. Normally he kept his anti-Confederate opinions to himself. Tom had always held a certain resentment for the Confederation but he never talked about why. Alex hadn't told Tom about his discharge, he thought it would stain his reputation as marshal.
"Sham or no, you were charged with..." McBride was interrupted by the overhead Intercom.
"Attention, unknown entities entering Brontes Airspace," the female voice over the intercom announced. An alarm blared through shortly after. Red lights peeked under the door of Alex's cell. Alex could hear running outside, heavy footsteps pounding the ground.
"Damnit, what now?" McBride said and snapped the folder closed. He walked briskly to the door and swung it open. A guard stood there in full combat armor, his visor up looking worriedly down the hall. McBride opened his mouth to speak but the ship jolted hard, sending the man flying to the left. The door slammed shut as Alex fell to the side in his chair, one of his arms being knocked loose. McBride landed on his head with a dull thud. He groaned and his eyes rolled back, unconscious. Alex looked at the unconscious soldier and noticed his keys. Alex dragged himself over to the man, his metal chair scraping the ground, and grabbed the keys. Alex quickly unlocked his bounds and stood up. Another bang on the ship as Alex struggled to maintain his balance. He crept over to the door and slowly slid the hatch on the door open. The hallway was empty, save for the echoes of footsteps and the red flashing lights blasting shadows on the walls and floor. Alex grabbed the handle and turned the handle. The metal door opened with a shudder, its hinges vibrated as another blast hit the ship.
"What the hell is going on?" Alex thought to himself. He tried to get his bearings as he snuck through the hallway. He seemed to be in a ship of some sort, a Confederate one too. What happened to the Korhal ship he was on? He needed to leave, quickly. If the ship was under attack, he didn't want to be a part of whatever happened to the survivors of it. Alex moved through the ship as quietly as he could as another announcement came over the intercom.
"Zerg swarm docking ship, all crew to repel stations," the female voice said. Great, Alex thought to himself. He thought he had escaped those things. Alex began to run through the halls, checking each door designation for some way to escape. Most lead to the engine room and various maintenance shafts. Finally he came across the lower docks. A wash of relief flooded Alex as he slipped through the door. Above him, catwalks stretched across the room. Different ships were locked into place, from Moria Wraiths to smaller ship to ship interceptors. Alex climbed a staircase to his right and looked over the docks. Various personnel ran around, loading into ships and donning combat armor. Further down the dock, dozens of men stood pointing their rifles at a closed door. Alex could hear the banging from where he was, reminding him of the Zerg attack on Mar Sara. Alex climbed further and further up the catwalks as the banging continued. Another voice came over the intercom, echoing through the expanse of the dock.
"Attention all combat personnel, repel all boarding parties, hold them off until help arrives!" a male voice said this time. Alex recognized the voice, but he shook the thought away. He had to focus. Across a catwalk, a Wraith was locked into a station, its rear ramp lowered to the floor.
"Perfect," Alex said to himself. He ran down the catwalk as a loud explosion echoed through the dock. The door that the soldiers had been watching had blown off its hinges. Through it, Zerg ran through, roaring and baring their massive teeth. They were the same small Zerg Alex had seen on Mar Sara. Gun fire rang out as well as human screams as the Zerg pounced on the nearest soldiers. Blood splattered the walls as more and more poured through the hole. Some soldier began to run, and soon the whole unit routed, running from the monstrous flood of creatures. Alex gathered himself and began running towards the Wraith again. He scrambled up the ramp and climbed into the cockpit. He flipped on the controls and fired up the engines. Alex buckled himself into the seat and checked his gauges. This ship wasn't too different from the dropship he had piloted. He grabbed the control stick and was about to take off when a loud click sounded in his right ear. Alex turned his head and saw a young woman holding a pistol to his head. She wore a pilots helmet, but a small drain of blood leaked out from underneath. Her visor was up revealing her piercing green eyes, staring down the old man. Her hand didn't shake as she held the gun to his head.
"Get off of my ship," she said sternly. Alex didn't move. The woman pushed the gun into Alex's temple, forcing his head to cock slightly. Behind him, a loud screech of metal resounded through the ship. A Zerg stood poised on the ramp of the Wraith. The woman looked at the creature and back at Alex. Alex shrugged slightly with a slight grin. The woman swung the pistol around and emptied it into the creature as it howled in pain. Alex heard the clacking of claws on the metal floor as the Zerg lurched forward at the woman. He heard her yelp as the Zerg fell with a hard thumb as Alex raised the ramp and pushed the ship forward. It barreled towards the exit, the blackness of space ahead of them. An energy field sealed off the outside from the rest of the ship but allowed spacecraft to venture in and out. Alex was pushed back into his seat. He heard the woman fall back onto the floor. Alex maneuvered the ship through the dock and out into space. He looked back and saw the woman beginning to stand up, thick red blood coated her where she fell on the Zerg body. Alex weaved the ship through scores of Zerg, the likes of which he'd never seen. They reminded him of the scaled caterpillars he'd seen on Mar Sara, but with large purple wings. He wondered how they flew in space, no air, no wind, a vacuum that should kill every living thing, yet here they were.
The woman sat down heavily in the seat next to Alex. She had taken off her helmet, revealing short fiery red hair. She had a large cut through her left eyebrow, blood dripping down to her shin. Her slightly rounded face had been battered, with other various scrapes all over. She held the gun still pointed at Alex, but he saw that the slide had been cocked back. She was out of ammo. The woman breathed heavily stared down Alex, who took quick glances to her. Her pilot's uniform was torn and a deep crimson bled through the material on her right side.
"I'm Alex," he said. He looked over at the woman. She had passed out, still pointing the empty gun at him. Alex looked at the radar and saw that they were in orbit of a planet called Brontes, a Confederate core planet filled with oceans and greenery. It wasn't far from Mar Sara, generally speaking, but it was worlds different, replacing Mar Sara's harsh dry deserts with lush jungles and deep rich oceans. It would be a good spot to recuperate and get his bearings before moving forward. He plugged in the autopilot to land them on the planet and unbuckled himself. He reached over and checked the pulse of the young woman, a strong heartbeat pumping through. A deep gash oozed blood on her side where he assumed the Zerg had caught her before filling the creature with bullets. Alex picked the woman up as carefully as he could and laid her on the floor behind the seat. He ripped her uniform to get a better look at the injury. The cut was long but not deep, but it seeped blood. Alex looked around for a medikit, checking the ships various shelves for anything to use, to no avail.
"Damn," Alex cursed to himself. He returned to the woman and took off his jacket. He ripped his tattered marshal uniform and made a crude bandage for the wound, tying it tightly. Alex placed the rest of the jacket under her head and returned to the cockpit. He scanned the settlements of Brontes, hoping to find a smaller one to land near and get the woman some help. He wasn't sure what compelled him to help her, as she had just threatened his life, but also, in turn, saved it. Alex felt he at least owed her getting medical attention for her wounds. The blue haze of the planet loomed over them as they left the battle behind them. The ship glided silently through space towards the planet. As he entered the atmosphere, the Wraith shook violently as red flames covered the canopy. Alex held on to the shaking controls, his hands sweating. He had never been a fan of reentry for spacecraft. It always made him nervous. Soon the flames cleared to reveal a deep blue ocean beneath them, clouds splattered like paint below them over the dark blue canvas. A large landmass was on the horizon and Alex steered the craft towards it. A settlement should be there, a place called Volun City. Alex flew the ship close to the water, and headed straight for the landmass, the city's skyline appearing on the horizon, spires reaching upwards into the morning sun. Alex flew the ship to the outskirts of the city and landed next to a run-down fill station. He picked up the unconscious woman and lowered the ramp. He walked out of the ship as a man stepped out of the station.
"I need a doctor," Alex said.