After you give your identifying information to the construct calling himself the Commander of the Vessel, Unit 5570-01 and other constructs secure you in a metal chair inside the vehicle. Those who have Psionics have the addition of a bowl shaped helmet that blocks your mental abilities, those who cast magic are gagged.
Once everyone enters the vessel the hatch closes and inside the hulking metal is pitch black. With a vibration and loud hum artificial lights fill the inside of the ship as it lifts into the air. Unit 5570-01 begins to speak again in that odd voice.
Prepare for terrestrial travel. Attempting to escape if futile. Upon reaching the destination you will be given an ingestible organic fuel replenishment with a proportional amount of hydrogen dioxide and 1800 seconds to finish the replenishment. After the announcement Unit 5570-01 walks out of this compartment and into another as the door he exits opens and closes on its own. You look over at your fellow prisoners many of who you have never seen before.
Initially distressed, Wildheart sturggles at his bonds. Panic and rage fill his eyes as he struggles to free himself. The chamber is filled with grunts, growls and snarls.
His nostrils flare. His eyes dart and a moment later he calms down. Almost as if tranquilized.
Saresha here. Good.
Takesh's head was filled with a throbbing pain. She couldn't remember a time when she felt so isolated, so cut-off, so weak. Struggling to reach the thoughts of those around her only made her feel worse. Hate ran through her blood. Hate for the metal on her head, hate for the mechanical booming voice, hate that she had been stupid enough to get caught in the first place.
She forced her eyes open and looked around the room at the others, seeing the same expressions of pain and confusion and fear on many of the faces. She hated that her own was no doubt betraying her own feelings. Her eyes finally met those of the Ekuna, and she forced a smile.
"Wildheart" she whispered in Ekuna.
More than anything else, she hated that she hadn't been able to save him.
Escape was futile? A thin halfling looks around, his eyes searching the other . Maybe while we're all locked up it is. But how do we get out?
He gaze fell upon the previously-enraged humanoid a few seats away. He looked strong. The strange blue goblin seemed to know him too. Friendship could be a strong tool.
6-0-K silently watched the spectacle of the Ekunas struggle. He knew the futility of it, but he said nothing. Not because he feared the thing, nor because it more than likely wouldnt listen, but because he felt like doing the same thing.
They had found out. From the start he hadnt been a good actor, and dropping something so heavy on his foot he had not been able to contain himself. For some reason he was still alive, being transported somewhere. When they hjad bound and examined him, he had gotten the feeling that they found his condition interesting. He wasnt sure why, but somehow he feared he would have been better off dead.
Grunting slightly as he tested his strength against his restraint to confirm that it was indeed futile, he looked around at his travel companions. As closed off as he was, the prospect of sharing words with someone after months of being alone, was too much.
"Wildheart" eeh? Seems pretty apt A low chuckle escaped his lips.
So, whats everyone here for?
"I can't remember." Je'grik answers softly. "I am Subject 3728, but my name is Je'grik."
Subject 3728? He spat on the floor. You should lead with Je'grik, not the name these bastards give you.
He looked at the floor for several long seconds.
Atleast you have your own name to give. All I know is the name they branded me with. They call me 6-0-K He looked up from the floor, staring off sideways into space, his lips curled, clearly thinking about something. Then he looked at Je'grik.
Lets make it Sizerox. Rolls off the tongue better...and atleast it sounds like an actual name.
Takesh looks back and forth between the halfling and the human. The movement makes her dizzy and she wishes so badly that she could rub her eyes. She tried to remember the last time that she had seen a halfling, but couldn't. Deciding she was too tired to think, she gave up, and after taking a moment to relax her mind, she cleared her throat.
"Sizerox is a good, strong name. As you translated, my companion is Wildheart. I am called Takesh. Takesh the Whisper to my people."
Takesh the Whisper...and Wildheart the Roar. he mused, more to himself than to anyone around him.
He sat quiet for a while, then suddenly looked up at the others, the glistening of barely contained tears visible in his eyes.
I dont suppose any of you got a way out of here? he said, a slight tremble of dispair in his voice.
"Wait. Cooperate. Watch. Think. A chance will come."
Hearing the voices and deciding it will do little to hurt his situation, Jack pipes in,"These fellas treat you all the worse each time they catch you. Not even going to feed us till we reach whatever containment area they got set up this time. Rude,man, just rude."
Hah, atleast you get to eat your food. Given the situation I cant show you, but they fed me through a tube they stuck in my back. Programming us to know how to eat was apparently too much trouble.
He smiled as he talked, but his eyes betrayed memories that had been anything but fun.
I must have eaten something at some point, but if I ever did I do not remember. Whats it like, eating things with your mouth instead of your spine?
"What's it like, eating with your spine instead of your mouth? Easier, I expect."
The construct comes back into the room. It seems obviously damaged. Remain seated, resistances is futile.. Sparks fly out of the constructs mouth as it bends over and collapses.
Through the door that opens by itself you get a glimpse that the other room has escaped prisoners that are currently engaged with the strange constructs. The door closes again and you feel the ship taking a dive and can feel your insides climbing with the inertia. There is a loud alarm and red flashing lights in your compartment.
The sudden jerking of the ship shakes one of the quieter prisoners, a man with skin of a bronze-like sheen, and softly glowing limpid green eyes, from an inwardly focused reverie.
"What is happening!?"
"I think out chance is here!"
Wildheart isagitated again and begins struggling against his bonds more fiercley than before. He's still not seen Whisper and this distresses him. He is completely non-verbal and a bit feral as he tears at the restraints.
Coughing violently, Sizerox awoke from the brief blackout, opening his eyes but quickly shutting them again as his vision blurred.
OW!!! By the Gods what happened?
Opening his eyes more slowly, he tried to focus and take in the surroundings. No doubt their crash would not have gone unnoticed, and he didnt intend to be here when a search party arrived.
Takesh's first concern is for Wildheart, and she opens her eyes quickly, looking over to see if he is injured.
"Uhnnn. I saw others... in the next compartment." Je'grik groans, aching from the crash. "Looked like they had gotten free."
Gregory struggles against the restraints...
...eventually weaseling his way out, but not without a few sickening pops.
"We should hurry. We have about an hour before a League patrol comes to investigate. We should grab what we can, and make a break for it!"
Thinking about it for a moment, Je'grik begins working his way out of his bonds, slipping out of them and wrenching the blasted helmet form his head.
"We should see if we can get the others out. Does anyone need help getting free?" The halfling asks the others in this compartment.
Sizerox turned to the halfling at the offer of assistance.
Well it feels like I could get out of these given a little time, but I dont plan to be here any longer than nessesary. So yes, if you dont mind.
"I'll do my best." Je'grik replies, walking over and pulling on the straps as hard as he can.
Despite his best efforts, it seems the crash and freeing himself took more out of him than he had thought.
Watching the halflings feeble attempts to pry his restraints open, Sizerox decided he stood a better chance of getting himself free than relying on the diminutive creatures help. Straining with ever fiber of his being, aided by a desperate need to leave this place, he burst his restraints with a roar.
He then turned to the creature who had spoken about e League Patrol, huffing from his physical excertion, his words dripping with contempt and distrust at the metallic man.
Why should we trust your words metal man? For all we know you are a spy, planted to follow us around...Some new kind of sick experiment!
As he talked he walked over to the fallen Andriod and started looking it over for anything useful.
Gregory looks at him incredulously.
"My earliest memories from the time after I was decanted involve being probed, explored, and 'enhanced'. You don't know what I experienced at the hands of the League over the last thirty-five years! You think I voluntarily allowed my head to be sawed open so that some power-hungry adept could play with my neural matrix? Trust me or not, I don't care. I want to get out of here, and I recommend that all of you do the same."
He then joins Sizerox looking over the construct, hoping to retrieve something, anything, of use...
Sitting for several long moments, mostly absentmindedly prodding at the fallen Android but not so much searching as looking away in embarrasment, he finally broke the silence.
They get inside your head too? For now then, "the enemy of my enemy" and all that. Didnt look like you were listening earlier so heres my name a second time. I am Sizerox. Who are you?
He reached out his hand, both a greeting and an offer of peace.
"The League"...is that what our captors call themselves?
Gregory nods, brushing aside some of his coiled hair to reveal a surgical scar, in the mid-sagittal line, which extends to just above eyebrow level, and then ducks across to above his right ear, before disappearing up into his hair.
"Quite literally, I am afraid. They never gave me a name, but I choose to refer to myself by the title 'Gregory'. My tormentors were members of an organisation called the 'Technic League', who more or less seem to control everything around here. They definitely will not be pleased by what has happened here, and as I have had cause to experience in the past, they tend to spread their displeasure around with a fairly large shovel..."
He stares at Sizerox's hand for a moment, before realisation dawns, and he carefully accepts the proffered handshake.
Noticing the others looking off into the distance, Sizerox turned to look in the same direction.
What is it? he said, voice heavy with concern.
Noticing that the one called Wildheart hasn't moved, Je'grik moves to check for a sign of life.
"Can someone check the others?"
At Je'griks request, Sizerox walked over to the unconsious man who had yet to be named (Jack). Having no other way of checking if he was alive, Sizerox lightly tapped him in the temple with two fingers.
Hey, you dead man?
Getting no responce he looked over at the others and shrugged, then turned back to the man, raised his arm, and delivered a rough slap to the side of the mans head.
"OOOOOOweeeeee, I wish folks would stop killing the pilot when they take over these things",Jack says as he slowly shakes the fog from his head. Realizing that he is still restrained and the other captives are loose, he says,"I don't reckon that one of you folks could get me out of these bonds,could you?"
Grabbing hold of the restraints, Sizerox pauses a moment and looks at the man.
Your name for your freedom then. he says while cracking a slight smile.
"Where are my manners? Sergeant Jack Bumpo, 3rd Heavy Rifles of Mendev. And you are?"