1.27.2

Static Bound

Astrid’s eyes darkened at his insinuation, and she clamped her mouth firmly shut.

He gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Do I need to go back to the well on this one? You going to make me threaten your friends every time I want something?”

“It’s under the armor.”

Astrid refused to acknowledge the man’s elation at her affirmation. She grew indignant, and she could sense matching hatred for his smugness seep over the floor from her team on the other side.

Tension filled the room, interrupted only by the clicks and latches of Astrid’s armor plates being dismantled over her chest with her arms secured behind her.

Ian took his time unzipping the mesh armor underneath to get to her flesh, and with a sick smile, the man fingered along her sternum to find where the pendant stuck to her skin under the pressure of her gear.

“I promise,” he whispered over her ear when he leaned to pull the necklace over her head. “I’ll keep it safe. Maybe there’s a way you can earn it back.”

In that moment, Astrid wanted to blast him. To take all the energy needed from herself could be worth it, just to wipe the self-satisfied look off his face.

But her team remained at a disadvantage. And getting her instant retribution now could only endanger them more.

He hadn’t hurt her, she reminded herself. And she could always kill him later.

She leaned away from him as the man stood, with her pendant in his fingers and a pleased chuckle on his lips.

“Aright kids, you know the drill,” he addressed his allies. “Let’s get back to work. Our guests will be here awhile.”

For as long as she could remember, Astrid felt that one crystal against her body. Her safety net that, at times, served as her best friend, her anchor, her sense of identity, and now, her last tie to her origin. And it drifted away from her with every step Lucas took to the door.

The Tetrians filed out. Two of the guards that accompanied Lucas lingered just beyond the hall, to mind the prisoners.

“In the meantime, friends,” Lucas said to the group when he made to leave, “I suggest you take this time to appreciate that you still yet breathe. This doesn’t have to end in your deaths, so there’s no need to be dramatic. I wouldn’t suggest trying anything stupid, however. That only… exacerbates things.”

He palmed Astrid’s crystal before he pocketed it. The thick metal door closed behind him and left the crew to their captive solitude.

Silence reigned for some time before anyone dared speak.

Lucas left Astrid’s top armor plates aside, and her underarmor unfastened halfway. Her chest could feel air, but it only accentuated what was missing.

Already she felt herself untethered. As if her connection to the physical world around her thinned precariously.

Without her crystal, the mere threat that she might lose control posed a more troublesome risk.

“Astrid,” Anders ventured across the way. “You alright?”

She closed her eyes and summoned her breathing exercises from memory. She swallowed before she decidedly answered, “Yes.”

“So, what’s the plan here, boss?” Romo posed to the lieutenant.

Anders took a moment to organize his thoughts.

“They haven’t killed us. That’s the key here. They want something. And we need information. This might be how we get it.”

“You don’t share information willingly unless you’re sure your target isn't going to spread it,” Romo countered. “They either think they can turn us, or they don’t expect we’ll live long enough to pass it on.”

“And I don’t think convincing them we’ve switched teams will be an easy task,” Dell contributed. “I can only guess what it would entail to prove our shift of allegiances.”

Dell looked to Astrid, and she knew he assumed the same conclusion as she.

They’d separated her for a reason.

“Given what we’ve seen on Thedes, I don’t think being a prisoner indefinitely is preferable either.” Tenya rested her head on the beam behind her with a long sigh. “Damn Tetrians.”

“Guess it’s safe to say they’re not watching the border either,” Romo guessed.

“This is my fault, but we’re going to get out of this,” Anders tried.

“It’s no more your fault than any of ours,” Dell disagreed. “We played our best move. If we'd started shooting they would have destroyed everything we needed before we could get ten meters in. And we'd still lose people. This was the strategy that made the most sense.”

“Captain will have figured out things went sideways by now,” Tenya said.

Dell wriggled on the other side of the beam. “But the team is all here. We don’t have reinforcements.”

“The captain isn’t going to just sit on his hands and see what happens,” Anders assured. “If it were any of us back there, we’d be going crazy trying to figure out how to help. Captain will think of something,”

“How’re those ropes coming, Dell?” Romo called to the technician.

“They know what they’re doing. But this isn’t a special skill for nothing.”

“So, we get out of here and then what?” Astrid posited. “They have our weapons. We’re more than outnumbered. We don’t know where we’re going. Trying to navigate the base without defenses, that’s crazy. They’ll catch us in no time.”

“You can still sense the power, though, right?” Tenya alleged. “We can find our way to the hub.”

“I… I don’t know.”

Astrid closed her eyes and focused on breathing. Doubt only sharpened with the void her crystal left.

“Stop it, all of you,” Anders demanded. “I can hear it in your voices you’re worried. I know this isn’t how we wanted this to go, but we’re all still alive, and we’re still together.

“We can’t make a play because we don’t have all the information. That’s how we got into this. We wait. They can try to make us turn on one another, but it won’t work. When one of, any of us, is about to get our ticket punched, that’s when we act. All together. That’s when we make our move. Got it?

“We endure. We listen. We plan. We wait. But no one in here dies. We’re surviving this, all five of us. That’s the only order that matters now.”

~~~

For nearly three hours the group sat while they contemplated their options. Reluctant to pose ideas when they could be overheard by those outside, each member instead strategized to themselves.

Romo and Dell, while they faced one another, seemed to share an almost telepathic bond.

“Dell.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you…?

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it.”

Dell continued to squirm against the beam. Tenya stretched herself as far as her arms would allow to give him room to work.

The chief, the most restless, rocked her ankles between her binds.

Anders fell taciturn.

Astrid didn’t need to ask. She sensed the reason. A heaviness fell over the lieutenant, riddled with guilt, concern, and responsibility. She could feel how it frayed at his composure. But every time their eyes met, his jaw tightened. Whether with focus or fury, she couldn’t tell.

She wanted to help him, to tell him it would be okay. But she, too, wrestled with uncertainty.

Without her pendant, any energy she drained from the wires, the lights, or the generators, would have to manifest elsewhere. Without a vessel, she’d be like Maya, a tumultuous storm that lashed at any around her.

Her sensitivity pricked through the stone at the mass of Statics that wandered the halls beyond, like ants in a farm. Over forty, she guessed. Maybe fifty if she included those outside or out of range.

And how many kept pulsar sticks like Lucas? How had the Static Opposition gathered so many who hated her kind? And if they did hate her, she wondered why they singled her out.

If they planned to peddle their case to her companions, why not remove her completely?

Heavy boots approached the door. Muffled words behind the metal relayed brief commands before it swung open, and an ash-blonde gentleman, stubbled and weathered, entered the room.

He dragged a chair behind him, across the stone floor. He set himself in the center, to face the soldiers and keep his back to Astrid, as if to wall her from their discussion.

She scowled.

The man didn’t feel evil, or angry. His grooming and figure suggested he’d once taken care of himself, even as short pale hairs sprouted over his chin. He looked burdened. Not over-comfortable, nor overconfident.

His armor chipped with an acrylic paint not of its original manufacturing. Flecks of white could be spotted beneath, but Astrid recognized the shape of its forms.

“Guardian,” she called him.

The man rotated to her, and steel-colored eyes winced to be named so.

“I was. Once.”