Khan and Marcus
The Augment and the Admiral, seated quietly in an empty, bleach white room.
A small and skinny table was placed between the two;
A chessboard presenting itself on top.
Classic.
Monochrome.
Empty.
"300 years."
"Give or take. Well, going by the stories I've heard and those god-ancient cryotubes-"
"Stories?"
"You're legends, Khan. A tale like yours floating around for this long - truth begins to wither and alter. Soon enough, people stop listening. To be honest, I never believed in that crazy old wacko story I heard among boys in the bathroom during my Academy years. But here you are..."
"There's no trace of us anywhere then?"
"None. You don't exist."
Chess pieces stayed untouched.
The timer remained unticking.
The game was over long before Marcus could even invite Khan to play.
It was because the silent Augment had already won inside his own mind.
One single glance of the checkered pattern was like the starting gun fire in a foot race; his head exploded into a maddening sprint and before the two even took the chance to sit down and Khan had already foresaw the numerous way he could win and lose.
Once revealed, the admiral had saved himself the humiliating defeat by leaving the game alone and just sat there.
Kings twiddled between their fingers as they spoke to each other.
Pawns watching; Knights waiting.
"You understand what you are to do for me, correct?"
Eyes cast downward. A spinning piece rotating between his middle and forefinger. A deep brooding voice echoed through the cylinder walls.
"Understood."
Marcus stared at the man in front of him, clearly engrossed in his own world with the king now being flipped into the air. No smiles, nor smirks, nor wits. The admiral just stood and sighed before placing his own king onto the board and started for door.
The soft click of wood on wood however, caught Khan's attentive ear and soon enough, he had willed his eyes towards the game.
"Queen's Dance." his booming voice resonated. Curious, Marcus turned.
"My queen a knight's distance away, wherever your king goes, I follow. When your king touches a corner, I bring in mine close enough and..."
"Checkmate..." Marcus stood with his back still facing his company, a poorly hidden face of surprise marked on his face.
"Care to play then?"
"Oh I'm sure you've already won."
Knitting his brows together, and tightening his fists at the Augments clear superiority, the admiral maintained himself and walked calmly out the door.
Devious Khan only went back to his own king in his hands with an unamused look.
But after the admiral had left and the piece now held steadily within his grip did he only burst into a face of smugness at the lone chess board with a single king amongst an empty battleground.
"Wherever you go, I'll follow...and soon enough..."
A cracking sound.
A splintering of wood.
In his hands laid the king with its neck snapped in half.
Marcus looked down at columns that littered the ground floor below him.
Every day he would stare.
Every day he would watch over Khan as he visited his crew.
It was an agreement that they've made to strengthen their trust with one another. Khan was granted permission into the holding unit in exchange for fulfilling the requests Marcus would throw at him. So far, there hasn't been any disagreements. Just silence.
Marcus never understood why Khan would use this time to enter a cold and dark room with empty silence in the air. To him, he saw it as a man walking past 72 open graves.
A cold shiver made its way up the admiral's spine.
But it wasn't just the man's wordless visits that uneased Marcus.
As the admiral watched from his hidden balcony overlooking the whole facility, crinkled eyes focused towards the black figure brooding over the last pod at the end of the line.
Khan, feared and menacing, could be found with softened eyes and relaxed muscles everyday, standing or sometimes sitting cross legged in front of that single chamber he had always watched over.
Sometimes, his pale hand would hover just above the sleeping face before he brings it down slowly against the glass.
Tiny movements of the lips would indicate soft spoken words that would flow out of his usually clamped shut mouth, and a rare smile of sentiment tugging slightly across his angled face, speaking to no one.
To an unconscious remnant.
To his dearest friend.
Marcus took great notice of this.
The admiral, from time to time, would take the opportunity of Khan's absence to stand in his very place in front of that one frozen coffin and just...look.
Beyond the frosted glass which held the clear imprint of the previous visitor's large hands, laid nothing more than an average man. Ashy blond hair with a face in which his creases made him seem younger somehow. He slept as if he was at peace yet at the same time, it indicated a growing disturbance stirring inside. An eternal nightmare.
Taking a step forward, Marcus slowly brought his own arm up and carefully placed the pads of his fingertips above the sleeping Augment and sighed deeply with a frown deepening on the corner of his lips.
"Who are you?" he breathed quietly, desperately aching for their history.
Twitching fingers yearned to open the sealed pod; to awaken the beast inside. But Marcus knew better. He knew that by doing so would pose a much dangerous threat and that one Augment awake was enough for his use. Not only that, but this was clearly someone who can be used to control the raging Khan if he ever dared to disobey his words. No, this man was better off asleep to Marcus than awake. He was of much importance.
But still, the curious admiral couldn't help but wonder.
Who was this man? And who was he to the feared Khan?
'Why you?'
After a few moments of hanging silence, he then let the tips of his fingers slowly slide away before turning back and escaping the chilling atmosphere.
As he sits alone back at that empty white room, two chess pieces dangled from long fingers above the empty chessboard. The admiral did nothing but to ponder quietly as he watches them sway in the air, the flashes of that mystery man's face entering his mind.
Out the window, Khan was once again returned to his usually spot in front of the pod like a dog protecting his bone. Marcus glared.
"So what are you, sleeping soldier?" The two pieces now placed in the center of the board.
"A knight..."
A smirk appearing all too suddenly in the admiral's devious face.
"...or a pawn?"
A/N The Queen Dance: A move using the queen piece to follow the opponent's king as if by "dancing" and efficiently forces the king into the corner in which he is then trapped and checkmated.
So, can anyone tell me what or who each piece mentioned represents? ;)
Reviews are helpful and welcomed! :3