He couldn't believe what had just happened: the man was over sixty years old! And yet he had, with precious little effort, disarmed and then thrown him across the bridge, as if he were nothing more than a small animal.
Cox could not stand, nor move his legs, no matter how hard he tried. He became aware of a pair of black shoes in front of him, and turned two pleading eyes up to face Ifrit's captain, imploring him to find mercy.
But the pleas passed straight through the man.
“Thank you for all your hard work over the years, Mr Cox,” Hawke said, his face pitiless. “But your services are no longer required.” He once again drew the laser pistol, pointed it at Cox's head, and pulled the trigger.
* * *
With the carrier under his command, Zackaria ordered that the crew be killed and their bodies dumped out into space. There were to be no exceptions: prisoners would not be taken, lives would not be spared.
They fought valiantly, but Ifrit's crew were no match for the invaders. The black-clad soldiers slaughtered each and every one of them, showing no mercy as they followed their leader's orders through to the letter. For Zackaria's command was what they adhered to; what they believed in; and what they would obey until the day they died.
XXI
— A Hard Truth to Accept —
After much searching around within the starport, the Knights had made very little progress in finding Barber.
“Something's happened to her,” Dodds said to Estelle, who walked by his side. “She would have found us by now, we're not exactly being inconspicuous.” Despite Parks' statement that the woman wouldn't be jumping up and down and waving her arms, they had reached the conclusion that Barber would have made herself known to them by this time. They continued to walk through the ranks of refugees, once again trying to spot that which they may have missed. Most of the refugees had refused to speak to them, and those that had spoken had been unwilling to help, wanting nothing more than to be left alone. A few had even made violent responses to the enquiries, either shouting and throwing things, or leaping up and taking a swing at the Confederation pilots.
“I think you're right,” Estelle said. “But we can't leave until we find her. Keep looking and let me know as soon as you find out anything.”
“Nothing on the upper floors?”
“No, everyone is down here. I think they're waiting to get out of here. But having said that, I'm going to check again.”
“Right,” said Dodds and left Estelle to start off on another round of searching.
* * *
Chaz continued his own walk amongst the ranks of refugees. Those he passed were still not used to his presence, and acted as though he was an executioner, seeking out the next prisoner for the gallows. Many turned their eyes away.
Unlike his fellow Knights, he had not spoken to anyone since arriving, having instead taken his time to pace the huddles, searching for just the right person to make contact with. Now he believed he had found them and stopped in front of a little boy, who had been watching him the whole time. Compared to the others, the boy did not seem in the least perturbed by Chaz's presence; more curious. Sitting alone, he must have only been about six or seven years old, maybe younger.
Chaz crouched down in front of the boy, who still had not taken his eyes off him. Unlike so many of the others in the port, the boy did not pull back or try to hide himself, though many of those near him did, shuffling back and crushing up against one another in Chaz's presence. No-one came to assist the little boy or take him away.
Chaz had been correct in his assumption that the boy was all alone, a heavily stuffed bag containing a few items of clothing sat next to him was his only apparent possession. What had become of his family and friends Chaz did not need to guess at. Nevertheless, the boy in front of him appeared to be quite brave and one of the few people who may offer a helpful response. Before all that, however, there was one small hurdle that needed to be overcome. Chaz stole a glance over his shoulder to see if his team mates were anywhere close by, before he started talking.
“” he asked with a warm smile. He spoke in a near-fluent Imperial dialect, keeping his voice calm and relaxed.
“” the boy said.
“” Ben asked.
Chaz smiled to himself. It amused him that the boy was assuming that was all the information he would need. His mind wandered for a scarce few seconds. I bet you're just like that, he thought, before returning to the job in hand. “” Ben said, with a shake of his head.
Chaz decided to supply some more information. “” Chaz said, still smiling.
“
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