Securing tomorrow.

Lee337

Chapter 1

Hope is hard to keep

A ray of dull light squeezed through a tiny crack in the ceiling, reflecting off a worn, stained tiled wall into a shallow puddle on the floor, causing a glow constantly being interrupted by a loud drip seeping from the crack above, echoing around the room. A year and a half ago, the sound of dripping water would have been a source of annoyance, but for James Fale, it was now a source of comfort.

It's raining.

James had lost count of the time passed since he had last been out in open air. He missed the sensations the outdoors brought. The wind blowing through his hair, the warm feel of the sun on his skin. He thought of the summers he used to spend as a kid back on earth, playing in the woods. The smell of the grass, the flowers. The birds chirping as they flew swiftly through the trees.

He thought of his wife. It felt like a life time since he had last seen her, but he still remembered her face with perfect clarity. The feel of her skin on his, the smell of her hair. The sound of her silky voice comforting him. Everything will be okay. You'll see.

He held onto this memory as tightly as he could. It was the only thing keeping him going. She probably thought he was dead. Had she moved on? Had she forgotten him?

James stood up, his limbs aching from the strain of the day. He took a couple of careful steps and stood underneath the dripping water with his mouth open wide, the water falling onto his dry tongue. It felt good.

Not long now, he thought. The light shining through the crack was getting brighter. Sunrise.

Daylight hours were for working. He knew that soon there would be a crash as the bolt came out of the brackets locking the large metal door which kept him confined. The doors in this section of the building were simple in design, unlike many of the automatic four way shutters often used elsewhere.

The light had become bright enough to illuminate the room. The room looked as though it had once been used as a washroom. Rusted pipes lined the ceiling high above him. White tiles caked in blood lined the wall. The floor was a smooth concrete, slightly angled towards a small grated drain in the middle of the room. There were stains where blood had dried whilst making its way towards the drain. The blood unsettled him. It belonged to those who had resisted his captures demands. Some of it was his. Bad memories.

He stayed under the drip, collecting as much water as he could. He was given as little water as possible and always felt dehydrated. He had come to love the rain.

It wasn't long before he heard the familiar scraping of metal on metal as the deadbolt moved out of the lock position. James readied himself, as much as he could. As hard as he tried to hold on, he was slowly losing hope.

The door crashed open in the violent way it always did, creating a long echo in the tiled room.

The light from the corridor behind silhouetted the muscular person stood in the door way. James couldn't see his face, but he knew who it was. Malek.

The figured slowly swaggered into the room, eyes focused on James with a piercing stare.

"What the hell are you looking at, human?" Malek scowled. "You humans are all the same. You think you own the galaxy. You force us to live as outcasts."

James said nothing. His Batarian captors weren't the type to be reasoned with, attempts at reason resulted at more blood stains on the tiles. He'd lost track the amount of times his nose had been broken.

Malek moved closer. He sneered.

"Not so tough now, eh?"

James kept his gazed focused on the floor. Tried to engross himself in his memories. He'd heard Drell could relive memories with perfect recall; they could lose themselves for days. He wished he could do the same.

"Pathetic." Malek mocked as he grabbed James' neck with the right of his two large hands. Batarians weren't known for their strength, but this one was different. James knew Malek could crush his throat at any time he wanted. He hadn't so far. He and the rest of his captors took too much delight torturing their human slave to kill him.

At least so far. James was sure that when they had finished their business, they'd kill him before they left. Whenever he heard that dead bolt move, he feared that today would be the day. Despite what he was going through, death was not a way out in his mind.

Malek gave a wry smile, and pushed him through the open doorway. James tried to keep his balance but his legs gave way. He was becoming very weak. He had no idea how long it had been since his capture. Months? Years?

The corridor was long and dimly lit, some light finding its way through the encrusted dirt on the windows, the walls in a poor state of repair. The Batarians weren't tidy.

Two guards dragged him to his feet. One pinned his arms behind his back while the other fitted a metal collar around his next. It pinched into James skin as he moved his head. The collar was attached to a chain. Malek took the end of the chain, and with a laugh led James down the corridor like a dog, towards the warehouse where he would start his work day.

He didn't know how much longer he could carry on. But he had to see his wife again.

This dream was the only thing that kept him alive. Somehow he had to get out. For her.

Elia...

The crates in the docking bay were filled with Red Sand, James knew. They were always sealed tightly, and never opened in his presence, but the drug was always dusted around the cracks. The operation wasn't very original, a criminal gang using a hidden base to distribute their product onto nearby planets. He expected they bribed the captains of merchant ships to deliver the unmarked goods, no questions asked. Merchant ships took a great deal of risk travelling in space and James imagined there would be more than enough willing to earn some easy credits.

Binthu was a barren, temperate world with minimal plant life located in the Yangtze cluster, part of the Voyager system. A prothean pyramid half a mile east of the building James was held in was the only noteworthy point. There were no other planets worth visiting in the system. The Yangtze cluster wasn't a place that you could expect to find merchant ships passing through. Not much chance of anybody visiting at all.

Much like every day, James was stood in amongst the dusty crates, waiting for his first job. Twice day a small cargo vessel would dock. Two Batarian guards watched with amusement as James struggled to unload the empty crates and replenish with those filled with the sand. The guards usually left him to work. They didn't display the level of violence that Malek did, for which he was glad. In his weakened state he found it difficult enough just to move.

At least the metal collar had been removed. The first week it had remained clamped around his neck, but the Batarians guards realized it was stopping him from working effectively, and had Malek remove it. They needed the job done quickly after all. A red ring of sore chaffed skin was a constant reminder.

The loading took little over an hour each time. The rest of the day was sat waiting. After the second ship had its cargo aboard, James would be moved back to his cell.

Once the loading of the first ship was over, the Batarian guards would shift their attention elsewhere, often to a game of skyllian five. Standing guard was a difficult job for the most disciplined of people, and these guards were not disciplined.

At around midday the guards would go get their lunch. For the first couple of weeks of captivity, the guards went each in turn, leaving one to look over their prisoner. It didn't take long for the monotonous job to take its toll, and the guards started eating together. This gave James an average of 15 minutes a day alone time.

On the first days, he used the time the best he could, searching around for anything he could use.

Small weapons he could conceal, a radio, even a bottle of water. The docking bay wasn't huge, but it was filled with broken crates and other scrap that the Batarians had dumped. None took it upon themselves to bury the trash, and the heap became larger each day.

About two weeks in, James found something interesting. A distress beacon. It wasn't in working order, but he knew enough to repair it.

Every day since, he had spent five minutes working on the beacon with makeshift tools he had created. He did not dare to work on it longer; he couldn't risk the Batarians discovering it.

Today is a good day, James thought to himself, excited. It's going to work. After loading up the first of the ships, James sat patiently in his usual position in the corner, where the guards could clearly see him. They left for lunch like clockwork, arguing over their last game of cards. The door slammed shut and James waited as he heard the scraping of the bolt turning in the lock. He got up and made his way across the room unsteadily to the stack of damaged crates where he kept the beacon and his tools concealed.

It's going to work, it has to. He inserted the power cells he had taken out of a discarded data pads and attached them to the makeshift connections. The beacon began to flash, bathing the area in a warm orange glow, announcing its presence to anyone nearby. He quickly disconnected.

Not good. He cursed at himself for not removing the bulb already. He proceeded as fast as he could, counting down the seconds in his head. 2 minutes gone.

The bulb unscrewed easily, and James reconnected the power. A small screen flickered to life and a logo flashed up. Cerberus. A couple of seconds later and a list of options appeared.

3 minutes. The menu was confusing, but he had training in their use. James navigated them as best he could. He had to set the beacon to broadcast a signal.

4 minutes. He was running out of time. He found the option he wanted. Selecting it opened up several sub menus. Keep calm he told himself, he could feel the panic setting in, as always did. Normally he would move back to his corner with plenty of time, to be safe, but he was so close, the thought of having to wait another day spurred him on.

He turned the transmitter on and set it to broadcast from 'Cerberus channels only' to 'All channels'.

Time's up, time to get moving. He placed the beacon carefully into its hiding place, being careful to keep the battery connected. He hoped the battery would last long enough to reach someone and that the Batarians wouldn't detect the signal themselves.

He heard the muffled shouts of the guards. Shit! James used all the energy he could muster to race across to the corner he was expected to be in. A leg injury turned a run into a quick limp. He couldn't be caught elsewhere and risk raising suspicion into what he was doing, if they searched it might ruin everything. This was his only chance. As he passed the locked door the handle moved and the door started to open. He span around as he ran, throwing himself onto the floor as the Batarians walked in. They made a quick scan of the room and onto James himself. He fought with all his might to keep his breathing steady, trying to look calm. They paid little attention to him, still arguing and carried on as usual.

The signal was out there. He was enthused with a small shimmer of hope.