5 miles southwest of Polis
Nov. 3, 2149

Sweat was dripping down their foreheads, stinging their eyes, but over two days of near constant running, not to mention Commander Williams borderline insane training regimen during basic, they'd gotten used to it. They moved without talking, their jokes pushed aside in favor of focusing on the only thing that mattered, getting their teammates back. As they traveled in a single file line along the path Carver had located the team was grateful they'd passed the field of vines the night before. No one, not even a solider, is a fan of hacking, slashing, and running through weeds in addition to having to deal with completely soaked pant legs. Since daybreak they'd been moving in the same direction for nearly five hours until Taylor raised a fist, signaling the group to stop. While the rest of the team took the much needed time to gather their breath and stretch their muscles to avoid cramping, Carver approached the lieutenant's position from the rear.

"See something sir?"

Taylor pulled his canteen and a map out of his pack before answering. "No, but we're getting close to Polis. At least, I think so. We running on old intel, but unless they up and moved the city, we're on the right track and the hastily abandoned camp we ran across earlier today only confirms that."

"They may not have moved, but it looks like they've seen some fighting." Carver paused, gulping down a mouthful of water. "Those ruins we skirted passed looked pretty freshly blown up."

The lieutenant dropped to a knee and downed a swig of water. He wiped at the excess that dribbled down the short black stubble of his beard before opening up the map on the ground, reconciling their current position from the morning stop. He pointed to a spot on the map. "We're here, about 5 miles out from Polis, if my dad's notes are right, it looks like they set up their capital in the old metro area between Baltimore and Annapolis."

Carver kneeled down across from Jarin, looking at the map. "Gotta be weird, reading through your dad's old stuff to lead a mission."

Taylor shook his head. "Not really. He used to talk a lot about that mission. Heck, he gave me the scout journal they day I got drafted. Must have read it cover to cover four times before the heart attack got him."

A steady silence developed between the two as they studied the survey map, planning their next move. Carver looked at the rough terrain outline Jarin's dads' team had made of the city and the surrounding area. "We should get off this path. We should assume the city is well fortified and they know we're coming. Based on the map, they were building towers around the walls when your dad was here. And I can only assume they've added even more defenses since then. If it were me, I'd have sentries patrolling both inside and outside the wall in addition to men in the towers."

Taylor nodded. "Agreed." He looked around through the trees, pointing up the hill to the left. "We'll make for the high ground. That rise should give us some good cover. Don't want to get surrounded and be in an indefensible position. Go let the team know the plan. Have them grab some water if they haven't already, we got another couple miles to go before we get to a stopping point."

Carver nodded while Taylor repacked the map and took another pull from the canteen. He made his way to the rear of the line, passing the orders along the way. Half the team broke out their canteens while the rest kept watchful eye on the perimeter. The caution paid off as a man, clad in a patchwork of grey and black cloth, came walking down the path towards Polis. His bearded face was firmly down, as though deep in thought, and he didn't raise his head until the barrel of Carver's gun was three inches from his nose.

Panic momentarily crossed his before he thrust his hands in the air. "Do not shoot! Do not shoot!"

Henley Ramirez, the closest thing the group had to a linguist rushed over. "You speak English?" This was quite the shock indeed for Ramirez, who was still trying to decipher the language they'd heard a few days ago from a passing group they had tailed without notice.

The man nodded, his hands still raised. "Y-Yes. It is the language of our enemy."

That piqued Ramirez's curiosity. "Your enemy?"

"The men in the mountain." The man looked over the group in front of him. "You are not from the mountain. Are you Sky People?"

Lieutenant Taylor, who'd worked his way back to the rear, cut int. "Sky people? Who are 'sky people'?"

When the man pointed to the sky realization dawned on Jarin. "Wait, do you mean the people from the stations?"

The man nodded. "Stations, yes! That is the word they used." His exuberance turned to confusion. "You are also not Sky People?"

Taylor stepped up beside Carver. "It seems we both have a lot of questions, but we need to get off this path so we can talk in more secure location. If I have this man put his gun down, are you going to fight me when I put these on you?" Taylor held up some zip ties, which he was beyond grateful Lopez had talked him into packing.

The man shook his head. Taylor motioned for Carver to lower his rifle and the man dropped his hands in front of him for the lieutenant to tie together. Jarin pointed up the hill and Carver took point. The man followed his lead, as did Taylor and the rest of the team. Once on top of the hill they found a group of massive moss-covered rocks around a clump of stunted trees. Taylor led their captive into the rocks, ordering him to sit while the rest of the team stood watch on the perimeter before Jarin himself sat down across from the bound man.

"Now let's start over. My name is Lieutnant Jarin Taylor. And you are?"

"I am Nyko kom Trikru."

The language Nyko spoke sounded foreign to Taylor. "Kom Trikru?"

"Of the Woods Clan. I must remember to use English, Skaikru has as little knowledge of our language as you appear to have."

Jarin noticed the lingual pattern of the words. "So Skairkru means the station survivors?"

Nyko nodded. "Yes."

"So you've met them?"

Again Nyko nodded. "Many times. Their healers have taught me much. They have been allies in our fight against the Mountain."

"The mountain?"

"The Sky People call it Mount Weather. They have done unspeakable things to my people. But now, thanks to Wanheda, they are all dead."

All this new information had Jarin's mind running circles, but he pushed aside the questions to get to the more important matter. "Why did your people capture two of my men?"

Something seemed to click in Nyko's mind. "The captives are yours? The scouts arrived on horseback last night with prisoners for the Commander to question. They must be your warriors. I had heard our southern scouts picked up your trail in the vines near the marsh boundary nearly a week ago. With our leader in battle there was much confusion about what to do with your people, in case you were from the Mountain. They must have decided to try capture for questioning."

"Capture is one thing, but trying to kill us is another. One of those tried to kill one of us. We had to put him down."

Nyko looked surprised. "If they were sent to capture, they would not have been given orders to kill."

"Well then whoever he was didn't follow his orders and died for that mistake."

By bowed his head, sad to hear of yet more death. "I'm sorry. You must understand, if they truly thought you were from the Mountain, those men would have believed you and your people deserved a fate far worse than death. It does not surprise me your encounter ended in blood. But if he had been told not to attack, and did, your people should not fear reprisal. Lexa would have killed him herself for such a mistake."

"Lexa?"

"She is our Commander, or leader. She united the 12 clans to fight the Mountain Men, to end their slaughter of our people."

"Whatever they did to your people, I just want get my teammates, my friends, back. Do you know where they would be taken?" Nyko refused to answer, looking up at Jarin as the latter got to his feet. Taylor decided to switch tracks. "Nyko, I know there's a lot you don't know and you must have a lot of questions about who we are and where we're from. But you must understand that we are not your enemy. We were sent here to find the station survivors, Skaikru, and help them if we can. Their people and ours share a lot of history; I only want what is best for them. But I can't help them if part of my team is being held prisoner. Do you understand?"

Nyko looked up, unsure how to respond. He studied the man in front of him. A young man in command of warriors, but instead of shooting him like the Mountain Men would, or beating him like the Sky People had done to Lincoln, instead, he was talking and asking for his help. And Nyko knew what the Commander would do to get the information she wanted out of her captives if they did not cooperate. He'd seen her work, treated their wounds more times than he would like to admit. He took a breath and made up his mind.

"What do you need to know?"

Polis
Prison Barracks
Nov. 4, 2149

David Grissom was not someone who was easily intimidated. At 6' 4", there wasn't much that put the fear of God in him, but waking up in a dark, unknown room, while chained to the ceiling was certainly on the list. He looked up at the chains binding his wrists, straining against the blurriness of his vision. He felt a bruise on his neck as he turned from side to side to get a better look at the room as his eyes slowly adjusted, realizing he must have been drugged, repeatedly by the feel of things. While wondering how long he might have been out, he heard a grunt from left. On top of the blurry vision the dark had obscured Lopez's unconscious form the first time Grissom tried to get his bearings. Soon Lopez was trashing at his chains just as David had done.

"Lopez." David tried to calm his friend. "Roderick!"

Hearing his first name seemed to have done the trick. Lopez looked over to his right, blinking repeatedly to try clearing his vision. "David?"

"Yeah, it's me. Keep it down, will you? Whatever they dosed us with gave me one hell of a headache."

"Man, I can't see so good."

"Same here, but it's getting better, probably a side effect of whatever drugs they shoved in us."

Before either could continue the sliding double door split apart, the creaking metal making a high pitched whine that only further agitated their drug induced headaches. Two hulking, masked men entered the room, spears in hand, before taking guard at each side of the door as a smaller woman followed them. David's vision had cleared enough to spot what looked like heavy grease paint covering half her face. Going off his experiences with the tribes back home, she was ready for war.

After staring at them for a moment the woman began circling them. "You're people have given me what I want. Tell me, why were you trying to attack us from behind. Were you going to murder our people while our army was away?

David tried to spin his body around to keep up with her as she circled behind his right shoulder, but the chains made it difficult. "Our people? What the hell are you talking about lady?" The blunt of a spear smacked his side, whipping around to see what hit him. "God, ease up there big guy!" He spun his head around to find the woman again, but Lopez interrupted.

"What my friend means is that we don't even know who you people are, let alone do we want to attack you. And unless you tell us where we are, and what did with the rest of our team, you won't get a damn thing from us."

The woman continued circling. "Feigned ignorance does not impress me. You will tell me everything I want to know. The only question is how long it will take, and how painful the process will be." As she crossed past Lopez's left shoulder she froze, her eyes fixated on the logo on the uniform. She quickly made her way out of the room without so much as a word.

After she left David and Rod worked feverishly to find a way to break their chains, exhausting themselves within 15 minutes. No matter what they did, how they twisted or pulled the chains were simply not going to budge.

David looked up at the chain, his eyes starting to adjust to the dark room. He saw how they'd ran the chain around the building's steel support beam. "Got hand it to them, a pretty well made prison."

"Grissom?"

"Yeah Lopez?"

"Please don't compliment the people that took us prisoner."

The door creaked open again, grabbing both men's attention. Black-clad figured rushed into the room as both soldiers saw the exterior guards body's fall into the open door frame. They braced themselves for the attack, trying to lash out with their feet at their attackers, but their feeble defense was easily overcome. One attacker cranked David's head to the side and jabbed a needle in.

David could almost immediately feel the tranquilizing agents go to work. "Oh not again."

Once the two were knocked out and cut down from one of the masked men tapped his ear. "We have them."

Nyko raised a hand, telling Carver and Jarin to hold, allowing two sentries on the perimeter of Polis to pass. Dropping his hand, the trio moved into the city.

"For the record sir, I think this is a terrible plan."

"Carver, those are my specialty. If I recall, my stupid plans have saved your life what, four times?"

"Four? I can only think of three."

Taylor cracked a smile as the group slid into a vending stand long deserted for the night. "Keep telling yourself that man. Knowing you owe me that much must really keep you up at night."

Nyko was getting annoyed. "Are your people all this loud? Please, quiet, or we will be caught."

Taylor nodded. "Got it. Lead on."

The three men moved from building to building, sticking to the shadows until finally Nyko stopped, pointing to a building across the way. He noticed the two guards on the ground, either knocked out or dead. "Something is very wrong."

Suddenly, four men, clad all in black, sprinted out of the building, carrying the bodies of Grissom and Lopez. Carver raised his rifle, but Taylor held him back, sticking to the shadow.

"We need to follow, not shoot, it would make this all pretty damn pointless if we accidentally killed them."

The trio bolted after the men, following their path through the city. Whoever they were, Carver noted, they knew the lay of the land remarkably well, avoiding all the patrols with ease. Clearing the edge of the city both groups slowed, the kidnappers showing no signs they suspected they had been followed. Jarin held up his group as he heard the other group speaking. The lieutenant looked puzzled as he saw the leader touch his ear before speaking again, but not to the men in front of him. Without a word the kidnappers ran into the forest, the darkness shrouding their movements. The trio ran up to where they had been standing.

"Holy crap." Jarin voiced was tinged with surprise, his mind making the connection in what he saw, and what it meant.

Carver turned back to his teammate. "What is it?"

"They have radios."

Nyko spoke up. "If that is true, then I do not know who they are. The Mountain Men are all dead, Sky Crew wears no such clothing, and they're heading east, away from Arkadia."

"Carver, go get the team, I will meet you back here. Tell them to get ready to run. Again."

As Sam ran off into the forest Jarin turned to Nyko. "Thank you for your help. Don't suppose you're up for a little more?"

Nyko shook his head. "My place is here, Jarin Taylor. Whoever took your friends are not my people." The two shook hands. "Follow them with caution, but I hope you find your friends alive at the end of all this. There has been far too much death these last few months."

"You're good man Nyko kom Trikru so try to stay alive, alright? When we get back, I'd like to know there's someone who can tell your Commander to not shoot us on sight."

Nyko smiled. "I doubt Lexa would listen to her old healer on such matters, but I will do what I can."

Nyko made his way back into Polis and Jarin stared down the dark forest before him. It was going to be an even longer night than he thought.

A/N: As usual, let me know what you thought of the chapter, and the story thus far, in a review!