He had several other tattoos along one of his muscular tights, “When did you get those scars?”
Marcy turned and moving her equipment into a pile, “Well, the one scar from my neck down across my left breast when I was testing some new protective armor. I was demoted at the time for spitting in my officers face.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted me to test out the new armor.”
“Why did you no try the armor on?”
Marcy smiled, “Because the tanks in the back had detonated before. The last two people who attempted to wear them were burned to death from the faulty equipment. It has other problems as well.”
“As you can see it is still pink. The scar is fresh.”
Abreon nodded, “How recent?”
“Four months ago.”
Abreon thinking, “What?”
Marcy poking the suit next to her, “Yes, I was one of the testers for the new machine suit, next to me here.”
“Okay.”
Marcy showing a crooked grin, “Yes, the metal plates had lamination issues at the time and the blast of plasma went through.”
“And you survived.’’
“And I survived but because of that they promoted me back up to a B7.”
Abreon shaking his head, “And now you’re here with me, with nothing but a metal blade between us.”
“You have that right, B2.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps more.”
Marcy laughing, “Come on, perhaps nothing B2, perhaps nothing.”
The Xelon Dru did find the bunker. At first, they tried to coax Abreon and Macy out, then shot at the doors. When this did not happen, they attempted to open the bunker with heat pumps. They took their plasma tipped wands and began burning through the bunkers metal doors. They cut along the edge of the first door specifically where the bolts were within the housing of that unit. It took near an hour to open up the first and another hour to open up the second. Abreon watched as they progressed through the second: “When they capture us they will kill me.”
Marcy sitting next to him, there bare thighs touching, in warm contact, as she watched them, through the second doors window, they each watching her and him, as she looked at the knife beside him: “They will kill me as well.
Abreon turning to her, “Why?”
“Because I failed them again.”
Abreon looked through the second door window at the Dru cutting through the door, “They don’t know that do they?”
“They’ll check my name ID number and rank. Do you think they will mind killing two more soldiers?” Marcy holding her hands in her lap: “How many were there?”
“There were fifteen thousand along the trenches, ten thousand within the corporation.”
“Twenty-five thousand soldiers in total. If your corporation got to us than most of them are dead.” Abreon closed his eyes, peering up at the window, “Assuming a 50 percent casualty rate, over twelve thousand men and woman are dead. I figure the rest were captured or taken prisoner. What are they going to do with the rest of them, Marcy?”
“Your corporation would essentially be in default. You can figure that there mines and tree harvesting will be expanded and any remaining soldiers or employees will be used as slaves for production purposes.”
Abreon resounded: “Better to be dead. The day you stop being able to make your own decisions is the day you lose your last chance for redemption.”
Marcy sighing, shaking her head, “What of you?”
Abreon quietly, “I shall never be forgiven.”
The Xelon Dru gathered the remaining Nenthar’s, those from the front lines of both the Nenthar and Xelon territories, as well as the corporate compounds that lay back in lands which the Xelon Dru lusted for and forced them on the move. They gathering and merged the prisoners into groups, those groups into larger ones, then into one main camp. The camp was hastily built from the remains of one of the many Nenthar corporate compounds. Some of the building had been destroyed during the rout of Nenthar forces. The now fenced in compound was approximately two kilometers square.
It was believed that the Xelon Dru possessed inferior technology and that was true but the company had progressed rapidly. They had obtained superior science through one of several ways. They could have developed the new technology they needed to win the war, which was unlikely given the scientific knowledge they had or they could have bought it. It was more likely they bought it, but that strategy had its drawbacks, one being that they were beholden to their makers. Abreon thought about it as Marcy and he were relocated to the Nenthar compound. The compound had been turned into a Dru prison camp, which was, renamed the Strife. Others, those remaining in captivity due to fierce rebuff or distance in travel, were brought in over time. Abreon and Marcy were thrown from a transport and into a crowd and that crowd in turn being directed to join with others, so that the whole continued to walk, along the great concrete roads that intersected the compound at all angles. The prison camp was still far off in distance.
Abreon walked next to Marcy. Marcy was still very much afraid as the throng of people walked on along the barren land, which used to be Nenthar land. Xelon Dru were swarming about the outer perimeter of the crowd of marching prisoners each extending their electric prods, with which they used like spears without blades to shock the slow or weak to stay in line or be compliant. They Xelon laughed and spit at their captives, those who had worked in the corporation and those who had fought against the Xelon Dru, in the days previous. They all marched in their wet, muddy clothes. They were hungry, tired and many seriously wounded. Abreon and Marcy tried to safely center themselves in the mass of people, protected by several layers of the corporation. Abreon knew the electric prods had made contact when painful screams broke through the sound of boots on roads and muck. They had been clothed before deportation back to Strife, and after several days, the sun had begun to shine. It was a warm day. Abreon’s feet hurt, his legs beginning to grow numb from use. Abreon to Marcy, “Those soldiers who are wounded won’t last long without medical attention.”
One fell and a second, others walking over them both, “I will survive.” Marcy whispered.
Abreon replied in grief, “I will survive as well.”
“Then we will both survive.”
“I sure hope to God we do...we will survive Marcy…we will.”
The hours went by then the days at the compound named Strife. During that time, the compound grew in size and complexity. Those detainees that remained too weak from fighting in the war were left beside the road. Several of those too weak or wounded to continue on the march to the camp were pulled back up by the Xelon and shot, a laser blasts to their chests. Others who were deemed too slow were pulled from the marching prisoners, shot, left to die and to decay in the fields. In line, they reached the compound several expressing muffled excitement. Some thought that they were going to rest; others thought they were going to finally be given food and water. Unfortunately, they would neither rest, nor food or water.
As they neared the gates the mass of prisoners were stopped, “I believe their going to segregate us.”
A Nenthar to Abreon, “Are we going to get food?”
Abreon to him in reply, “I think not, Nenthar.”
“Why?”
Marcy to him, “Because where prisoners and we are now slaves.”
A woman to her, “But I thought we would be released soon.”
Marcy to her: “You may hope.”
Abreon to Marcy: “Their going to speak.”
Marcy in a low tone to him, “Those gates must sonic, maybe laser.”
A Dru soldier stood upon two crates with a sonic booster in hand. He held it up to his mouth, addressing the prisoners, “You are now our captives. You are war criminals and will be dealt with in such a manner. You have no rights as of this point forward. You shall have no wants or desires. You are in the control of the state now. You are now wards of this state and from now on you will act on the wishes of the sta
te. You will submit to the wishes of that state, if you do not you will perish. If you attempt to escape you will summarily be executed.” A sergeant took over from the lieutenant, the lieutenant handing over the sonic booster to him. The sergeant spoke into the booster, pointing out toward the crowd of prisoners before him, “You are to form two columns; men will form one on my left and women on my right. There you will be split into wards, where you will await further options by your section captains. You shall start now. That is all.”
Abreon to Marcy: “I will see you again, have faith.”
Marcy gave a weak smile to Abreon as soldiers began to mix into the mass of three thousand detainees pushing them with their electric prods, their rifles slung about them, dividing them into their gender specific lines, “And I will see you again my friend.”
The Dru drove the men and women from each other, prodding them as they went separating them by a few hundred meters. Once the groups were divided, they were instructed to form lines and wait. One detainee spoke low to Abreon, “Why are they doing this?”
Abreon answered the Nenthar softly, “To see who is healthy for work and who is not.”
A Xelon who was close to them noticed, “Hey, shut your mouths or you will get the butt of my rifle.”
Abreon observed his warnings as the soldiers began to pick out those who were too weak, sick or lame to work. The captains went one by one pulling those who seemed unfit for harsh labor and against their will dragged them out before the prisoners to be executed