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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Denied - 71. Chapter 71

I’d been separated from everyone. The Elites didn’t look at me, didn’t talk to me. Shivers wracked me as I was hauled away, my hands bound behind my back with strong shackles. I wanted to vomit up that last meal we’d had, or cry, or drop to my knees and not move.

But none of that would help me.

None of that would help the others.

Years of experience suppressing my emotions helped me stay on my feet and kept me from panicking. I squeezed my hands together behind my back. A wand was shoved between my hands, zapping my fingers.

I cursed, my hands now completely numb while painful shocks burned up the nerves in my arms. The synthgar shivered against my neck. I held my breath, hoping it would stay still. They’d take it and kill it. I was back in the same hell as before, even if it was on a planet instead of a sterile space station.

They were already starting to isolate me from sensory input. Not talking to me, not letting me even hold my own hands. It was sickening.

Worse, I could feel some of that numbness beckoning me. It’d be easier, safer, than the fear and anger.

The scent of the flowers was gone, the warm breeze tempered to a cool stillness, and turn and after turn led to windowless corridors. I nearly walked into the back of the guard in front of me, and only barely stopped before his wand slammed into my stomach. I sucked in a sharp breath, arching away from the glowing tip.

A door opened on my right, and I went inside. Pick my battles, fight when it made sense. Play docile while you have to. I kept my back to guards. My hands and wrists were so numb I didn’t feel the cuffs disengage, but I had to bite back a cry when my arms fell useless to my sides.

Above all, never, ever, let them see you cry.

I blinked back the tears, swallowing past the thick lump in my throat. The bed was different and boasted a thin mattress and a pillow. A pillow; I hadn’t had one of those before. The space was rectangular instead of a square box that matched sides perfectly four strides one direction and four the other.

My mind latched onto the small details even as I was left alone. I paced the cell. I sat on the bed. I ignored the pillow in case they came and took it from me.

Mealtimes came and went without any trays. Darkness had to have fallen outside, right? Even if we’d arrived early in their morning, I’d been locked in this cell for hours. I couldn’t touch anything, not even myself.

Sitting still and touching nothing was more exhausting than I remembered. This wasn’t like my cell from before, though. I could hear outside my cell, which helped the waiting.

 

Night fell and the lights dimmed. I crawled onto my bunk facing the door. The sounds of activity faded and soon just the tread of booted feet and the thump and squeak of what must be the guards was left. Silently, I slipped out of bed and crept to the door.

I cursed the numbness in my fingers. It was going to hamper my escape, but I was done in this cell. Time to find Anyas. I traced my fingers to the left of the cell door. Stiffening them as best I could, I drilled them into the metal, punching holes into the wall.

Holding my breath, I waited for an alarm. Nothing. Either no one was watching me, or they hadn’t noticed what I was doing yet. Security wasn’t what I had lived under before, which is something I’d been hoping for.

I curled my fingers and the metal squealed, bending and breaking. Success! The hole exposed the electronics for the lock. Now came the part I wasn’t sure of. Freska had given me a tiny chip to conceal in my clothes. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to lose the feeling in my hands when I tried to use it. That made it infinitely harder to carefully place the tiny green plastic shard that was about to free me.

Biting my lip, I cursed under my breath, but I finally manipulated it into place. Click. The door opened a fraction. A wicked grin crossed my face. Something was going my way; it was about damn time. I pried open the door, peeking out. The footsteps were faint, on the far edge of the patrol pattern.

Slinking out, I started to follow the sounds. First, neutralize the guards. Second, find the others. Third, get Anyas. Fourth, take over this compound. Fifth, let Freska and Danie do their thing. Sixth, take these fuckers down.

Probably not that simple, but my body itched to take care of the first order of business and the second. I needed Captain. He needed me. We were better together. I made my way to a corner, then flattened along the wall. My senses would help me, my strength an asset.

Footsteps. Boots. The swish of fabric. The second the profile of the guard came into view, I was on him. I’d held back before, acting like their constructed bodies were too strong for me. This time I held back nothing. Stiffening my hand into a flat blade, I slammed the edge into his neck. There went his ability to shout out.

Jumping, I clapped my hands over his ears. No more ability to hear the others. He choked on his cry when I kicked his kneecap and blew it out backward. He dropped to one knee, and then I used my elbow to drive his head sideways, slamming into his jaw and knocking him unconscious.

One guard down. I wasn’t even breathing hard. These fuckers were about to pay for a lifetime of abuse, and I was just the guy to dish it out.

Copyright © 2017 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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18 minutes ago, travlbug said:

Too easy? Would the Elite really be taken in by Freska's chip, or is a silent alarm going off somewhere, with reinforcements on their way? Does Anyas have a plan which Kohen's escape will scuttle? If the escape works out well, how does Kohen intend to take over the compound? More questions than answers at this point!

 

Remember that Freska has already been in the Elite systems and most of everything is run by AI and AI  which feels underappreciated at that. These guys are way too overconfident and I doubt they are accustomed to dealing directly with anything outside their own insular community. They use the Brox because they don't want to dirty their hands with mundanities or leave their comforts behind. They are much like the latter days of the Roman Empire where they only used mercenaries for the legions. I doubt they would imagine it would be possible to escape from their cells. I think there is a significant amount of complacency in play here. It would happen when you've been unchallenged for literally millenia.

 

Once Kohen reaches Danie and Freska, they can turn the Elite's own AI against them. Now that will be a real shock, not only that the AI would turn against them, but that insignificant beings were able to do it.

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