The Valuans rounded up every man in Horteka who was not withered with age, extremely young, or deathly sick, loading them onto steel ships and transporting them to Sacred Mountain. Little was known about this place of worship, except that a wealth of Glow Rocks lay hidden within its walls and not a soul had been there since before the destruction of the Old World.
Centime was shipped by himself, under very heavy security and bound with his hands behind his back. His captives had taken his pistol, and he was not a strong man; his talents were deeply vested in engineering and technology, not ideally suited for battling soldiers single-handedly. He knew a bit more than his fellow civilians; the Glow Rocks of legend were actually Moon Stones, so it made sense why the Valuans were so interested in the place. When they reached their destination, though, even Centime was surprised.
The Valuans had already occupied Sacred Mountain, and it was obvious they had begun to re-shape the mountain for their own devices. The place was now some sort of mining concentration camp - the Horteka civilians were already being forced to do labor, wielding pick-axes and all manner of various digging tools. As Centime watched, horrified, the Valuan soldiers forcibly man-handled the captives into doing their bidding with heavy clubs.
Upon landing, Centime was not marched off to the mines as he had assumed he would be, but taken into a dank and grubby sort of office, where he was unbound and locked in to wait. An hour passed, then two, until at last he heard keys jangling in the door.
A pair of rather mismatched people entered the room, talking in argumental tones and ignoring Centime completely. The first was quite short, almost childlike in appearance - in fact, the Blue Rogue captain was strongly reminded of a rather volatile-looking elf. He had a wicked little face and horn-rimmed glasses, topped off by a lavender mop of hair that stuck to his forehead in greasy strands. The second was a rather feminine-looking man with ivory skin, crystalline blue eyes, and well-brushed blonde hair that the man was constantly toying with. He wore a pristine white uniform edged in gold and, compared with his short, deranged comrade, was rather refined.
". . . As I've already made quite clear to you, Alfonso! I am charged with finding the Lost City, and until the high priest decides to help us, he'll stay locked up."
"It would be wise to start looking now, while the continent is in chaos, De Loco. I can accomplish this without Isapa."
"You're here on demotion, not to run around, doing my job! If I have to go to Lord Galcian - "
The conversation died; the arguing pair had just noticed Centime sitting quietly in a corner, watching them warily. The smaller man put on a rather demented smile.
"So you'll be Centime, will you? Welcome to Moon Stone Mountain. My name is De Loco, Fifth Admiral of the Imperial Armada and chief machinist. I understand that you and I share a love for all things mechanical, correct?" It was clear that Centime was not listening; quite the contrary he was shooting sidelong glances at Alfonso, who was watching him with a calculating expression on his face. With a disgusted sigh De Loco added, "Oh, and this is Alfonso, the First Admiral and Commander of the North Ocean Fleet." His voice clearly denoted that he did not care for Alfonso much; Centime was curious as to how there could be so much animosity between officers of the same cause. Centime was only vaguely aware that De Loco was still speaking.
"I have a very interesting offer for you. I would like you to aid me in constructing new weapons and ship parts for the armada; for a man of your skill, this should be a simple task. You will earn high recognition and praise from the empress herself, and will be offered an icon-clad contract to join with our engineers. Will you help us?"
"No." The word had spouted from Centime's lips before he had even considered it. "I will not create weapons for you to hurt people. I refuse to become a tool in the armada's tyranny."
What was that look on Alfonso's face? Could that really be a smile of victory? For even as De Loco bared his teeth in a snarl, Alfonso barely suppressed a snicker.
"Perhaps a few days in a prison cell will change your mind," De Loco snickered, and a pair of guards entered and seized Centime's arms none-too-gently.
As he was dragged from the room, he thought he saw Alfonso wink at him.
Author's Note: Creepy creepy creepy...