15

Underground

Stephen had taken Janet to a small bunk facility near the medical bay on the ship. Without preamble, he sat her down on a bunk and then sat next to her. Although she had calmed somewhat, she still held on to him tightly, only now her arm was around his waist and she leaned into his side as they spoke. They had started to discuss what happened in the medical bay.

"I'm scared," Janet admitted in a small voice. "It's not like I can order someone executed any more, and these people are taking advantage of the fact that they won't be killed for threatening anyone."

Stephen wanted to let out a sigh. He was adamantly opposed to any capital measures, and wanted to argue about it, but he kept his peace for now, hoping Janet would find her own way toward seeing why that was no longer possible.

She sighed heavily. "I get it," she admitted. "And security did act quickly. I'd still be pissed if it were anyone else, but when I found out you were one of those taken, I wanted to..." her uninjured fist started to clench again, such that her knuckles turned white.

Stephen took her hand and started gently stroking it. Janet gave a half-hearted attempt to pull it out of his reach, but he applied enough pressure to keep hold of it, looking directly into her eyes as he applied gentle pressure. "I'll admit," he replied. "If the situation were reversed, I'd probably want someone to pay with violence as well."

She didn't reply, instead, she continued to stare at him. Within moments, she had pulled her hand forcefully out of his grip, released his waist, and with both hands, taken both sides of his face and held him as she kissed him vigorously on the lips. Momentarily stunned by this reaction, Stephen didn't move, but gradually, as he relaxed and reciprocated her affections, his hands began to move almost of their own volition, taking her by the waist, and without thinking, he reached lower, about to cup her butt.

In an instant, she broke off the kiss, pushed back at him forcefully enough that he fell back against the bunk, and she leapt to her feet, her breath hitched in what Stephen could see was a clear panic response. Then, almost as quickly, a look of utter desolation came over her face, and she fled the room before they had even had a chance to try to fix the misunderstanding.

Knowing what had happened, very conscious of the discussion they had both had back on the Moon, Stephen walked up to the communication panel. He tapped it.

"Request intercom link with Helen Deckland," Stephen told the voice assistant in native Klankharii.

"Stand by," the artificial voice replied. Almost instantly, a connection opened. "Stephen?"

It was Helen.

"Hi Helen," Stephen responded with a heavy sigh. "Janet just fled the quarters you had us assigned. I'm not sure where she is, but she's pretty freaked out."

"What?!" Helen's tone was both surprised and displeased. "What the hell's going on Stephen?"

"Sorry, I don't know what it was. I don't want to assume anything."

Another heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll see what I can do." The connection went silent, and the display reported the transmission had ended.

After that, he sat down heavily on the bunk. He had a pretty good idea what triggered her panic response, but he wished he could have talked it out with her.

Maybe that wasn't such a hot idea right now.

Davidson and Mira spent the next several minutes discussing the assault on the holding facility, looking over the footage the cameras had collected. Those that were hidden had captured everything, while those that were still visible had only captured as much as they could before they were destroyed.

"Do we know who is behind this?" Davidson asked the group.

Mephicia answered. "It's too early to tell more than who was present at the hostage situation, and who was present at the holding cell breach, but those who breached the holding cells knew enough about the surveillance on them that they had timed their assault so they were exposed as little as possible to local guard units, and they wore face masks the whole time."

"I find it hard to believe that no-one would have noticed a bunch of people around the holding facility were trying to hide their faces," Davidson frowned, not wishing to criticise Mephicia's work but failing to see how anything might explain this.

"There's a good chance they were hiding out in nearby buildings," Mephicia replied.

"I've asked my government to review procedures for assigning guard units to this world," Mira told them. "While I don't wish to disrupt the self-governing nature of Earth's people, this should have been foreseen, and the holding facility sighted away from other buildings not ancillary to its' needs," she added with an apologetic glance at Davidson.

Davidson held his hands up. "I'm with you on this one," he admitted. "I should have seen it coming even if no-one else did," he barked in a tone of self-recrimination that Mira obviously hated.

"No," she told him tersely. "You're in charge of planning future Earth military establishment and laying the ground-work for future recruitment. It's not your job to see to criminal and security concerns among the civilians in your populace," she told him sternly.

"No," he sighed, letting go the last vestiges of self-recrimination and doubt. "No, that would be with the survivors. We'll need to talk it over with them."

"In the meantime, I'd like permission to go over the relocation of the holding facility so that we have more security and fewer places for infiltration to succeed," Mephicia asked in a tone that was half-demand, half-plea.

"Granted," Davidson immediately told her. "I'll smooth things over with the others, but I agree, this needs to be fixed right away." He turned to Mira. "What about the escapees? Do we have any idea where they went?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, Walter. It may not have been executed with military precision, but it was well enough planned that just looking over the surveillance footage gave us no clues. They used people of a similar size and stature to the detainees that they were readily able to have them switch outfits and places. It'll take some time analyzing the data before we can work out where they went to ground."

Just their luck, Davidson thought. They really needed to do better.

'A' walked back into the holding room where the kid Jason Mensar was being held. It had already been a few hours since they started the interrogation techniques he had discussed with them over how to break the kid's will, and they were clearly enjoying themselves.

If he were honest with himself, 'A' was enjoying it as well. It was the first time he had a real chance to exercise that part of himself over another. Apparently, this sort of thing went on all the time back on Earth before the 'rescuers' came back, and he had only seen some of it second-hand through remote surveillance that he had managed to cobble together from his secure shelter.

Having this kind of hands-on experience was giving him a certain thrill, he realised. Still, he had a task to complete, and he didn't want it all thrown away by making the kid useless to his plans. He waved the other two off, then looked down at the kid again.

Oh look... There's that look of defiance again.

There was no way that 'A' could permit that to continue. He needed to break the kid's will. He would always be a liability and a potential traitor in their midst if he wasn't completely broken and built back in their image.

"Ready to talk some sense to us now?" 'A' asked in a liquid voice. "This would all go easier if you just admitted you are better off with us rather than against us."

'A' wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but the kid was rather badly injured from the beating he had just received, so he had not expected the snarling and enraged kick that almost connected with 'A's shins, but he leapt back in time.

The kid actually had the nerve to attack him?!

Schooling his expression into one of calm disdain, 'A' decided to step it up a notch. "No, I can see you still don't understand the gravity of the situation. What do you think, C?" He turned to agent C. "I think it's time we brought his sister in so we can show him what happens to those who defy us."

"YEAH?" the kid roared like a caged animal. "TRY IT! FUCKIN' SEE WHAT HAPPENS! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

'A' stepped back carefully and slowly, as this kid snarled, kicked out and tried to fly at him in a rage, but 'A' knew that the chains holding him in place to the bunk in the room were solid and unbreakable, and he knew that neither 'C' nor 'F' would let the little shit anywhere near him. He maintained a carefully disdainful look on his face as the kid snarled continuously at him.

"He still isn't getting the picture," 'A' told 'C'. "Step out and start making plans to bring the girl in. Send 'D' in to take your place. It's time we taught this young man a few home truths about his situation and how truly powerless he is against us." And with that, 'A' slowly lowered himself in a crouch as 'C' stepped out of the room. "Hear that, Mr. Mensar? It's a real shame you don't understand when you need to listen to what you are being told." He paused deliberately, timing his silence so as to draw it out as the kid snarled at him again, throwing himself pointlessly at 'A'.

"You fuckin' STAY AWAY FROM-"

This time, 'A' bloodied his own hands. Now the kid would understand that 'A' was more than willing to get his own hands dirty in pursuit of their goals. Before Jason had managed to finish his posturing, 'A' lashed out at the kid's face with a sharp knife. It was a combat knife he had managed to have carved based on his own work in the subterranean bunker he lived in his whole life. One of his favourite hobbies was making sharp implements so he could go out and scavenge if his supplies ever ran out, and one of his favourite designs had been an elaborate combat knife with a smooth, sharpened edge on one side, and a serrated one on the other. Perfect for gutting people if necessary.

'A' watched dispassionately as blood dripped down from a clean and deep cut to the boy's cheek. "You were saying?" 'A' asked in a quiet, almost soft tone of voice. "Let me make it clear to you again," he said gently, just as 'D' stepped in to take the place of 'C' from earlier. 'D' was a real brute of a man, far more at home with blunt force trauma, and someone apparently from a shelter near California back on Earth. He had the build of a brute with a temperament to match and a limited ability to initiate and carry through on instructions, whereas 'C' was far more intelligent, and capable of carrying out complex plans flawlessly. "You don't get to dictate what we do here, Mr. Mensar," he told the kid, his tone hardened. "The sooner you understand that you have no business trying to threaten, bully or cajole me into anything whatsoever, the sooner you will find yourself in a better position to do something useful for your fellow human beings."

'A' couldn't care less about the other pathetic wretches from Earth, but it made for good speeches.

Unfortunately, Jason was not an idiot. "Like you give a fuck about anyone other than yourself," he spat.

'A' sighed, not bothering to respond. "'D', teach this youngster some manners, would you?"

'D' threw a kick to the boy's face, breaking his nose and spraying the floor with blood. With a wave, 'A' had 'D' withdraw.

Surprisingly, Jason was still glaring at him.

"No," 'A' sighed in mock pity. "You still don't get it, do you? Any time you glare at me and show your defiance, you just hit home the point that you still need teaching-"

"You'll never break me," Jason spat.

'A' sliced at him again, this time, slashing across his forehead and down the opposing side of his face to where the cheek slash had happened. The cut started bleeding profusely, and after a few moments, Jason's face started to turn white.

'A' was amused that the boy had apparently gone into shock. "Oh no, boy, you're not going to pass out on me," he told him. "'F', grab the electrical cabling and get ready to shock him the moment he passes out."

This was going to be fun, 'A' thought with glee. Jason Mensar was going to be broken, whether he liked it or not.