Sunday, March 6, 2011

Rise of a Rebel Part 3

Previous entries Part 1 Part 2

Liberty: One of Imagination's most precious possessions.  
~Ambrose Bierce

Part 3

The casino shuddered under yet another impact, throwing Logan to the ground again.  The only thing on his mind was making it to a barely space-worthy cargo container, stumbling down the passageway to storage as the casino hummed with the mournful song of destruction.  A lack of food and sleep made each step harder, the last few months of living a slave on this casino slowly pulling from his strength.  The adrenaline kept him upright, warring with exhaustion combined with the dull thuds and tremors running through the small station from decompression and explosions kept threatening to push Logan to his knee's.

It was the thought of freedom that kept him moving towards perceived safety.  A few weeks prior a massive cargo container had been pressed into one of the cargo bay's.  It was pried open by the slaves assigned to the casino and contents used to resupply the casino.  Ever since then the slaves had taken out various other supplies, moving them into the always near empty cargo rooms in the Casino.  A single hatch had been left open for access, propped open by a simple mop handle.

Now that container represented their only way to escape, slaves weren't given escape pods, too expendable.  The slaves knew it and had all made plans to run for there if ever needed.  Things came into more clarity when security had been bolstered suddenly, a nasty man named Kruul stopping by for a visit they said.

Logan stumbled again, slamming his knee to the ground, the deck jumping, tossing him off his feat.  Strings of groans and the twangy snap of metal breaking filled the air.  The entry to the cargo bay was just ahead, the door hanging casually open taunting him as blood ran from his nose.

Limping steps carried him into the bay, another dark form in a room full.  The lighting was mostly out, only flickering emergency lights showing the doors and parts of the deck around the giant shape of the cargo container.  Rozor stood at the entry to the container, the small door propped open with a long wooden handle.  Nobody else was in sight.

Logan drew closer to Rozor, noting the gash running down his arm, both of them stopping under the smallish door, long enough for another explosion to rock the casino, neatly sever the wooden pole holding the door open, slamming them both into the cargo container, their heads leaving neatly paired dents in the smooth metal of the container.  

It didn't take long for them to regain consciousness the way the container was being slammed side to side by explosions, hefted from the remnants of the casino like so much trash.  The cargo container's small power supply kicked online, some unused supplies jostling around, held in check by bright yellow cargo straps.

The silence of the container was broken by a pair of soft groans, just inside one of the service entries to the overlarge container.  Limited lighting spread tight cones of light across the empty space.  One light highlighted the bodies of the two men, haggard janitorial coveralls hanging off their bodies.  A long jagged cut bled down one's forearm, ugly red blood trickling from the wound, down the mans black skin,  pooling to the side of his arm.  The other struggled to his feet, using a long wooden mop handle to help him stand.

"Did you see anyone else?  Once the attack started, I just ran here."  Rozor nodded his head, sitting up from the deck of the container, checking the gash on his injured arm gingerly.  The wound didn't seem deep, just ragged.  Logan looked at his arm, then back to Rozor's face.  "What happened?"

Rozor removed his shirt and wrapped it around his arm, looking back over to Logan.  "Ran into security, they were headed in the opposite direction, spared the time to throw me against the wall, or maybe it was just the explosions.  I caught a glimpse of Klolf but he was being pushed along by that bastard Thomas towards the escape pods."  Tears slid down Rozor's face slowly, wiped hastily away by his fist. "There wasn't anything I could do, like a coward I just hid around the corner as he was pushed by...  I hope they make it..."  His eyes went distant as the container shuddered again, silence settling over the container.

Logan walked to the hatch they had come through, fumbling to check the seal of the door, looking at the small dents where the door had slammed them both inside and shaking his head, walking back to Rozor.  "I guess we just wait?"  Rozor nodded, sliding with his back to one of the bundles of supplies, shoulders slumped.  "Rescue, death or enslavement, take your pick.  Any is a better option than that place was."  He left the rest unsaid.  In roughly two hours the container would run out of power and turn into just another piece of space garbage.

Logan slid down to the floor, back to crates of carbon, plenty of time to reflect on everything.

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