By David C. Daoust
Colin felt the terrain change as the massive APC rolled through the gates and then directly up the ramp that led into the Barracks ship. He felt the momentum shift as they suddenly veered to the right and abruptly came to a halt. He could hear the gears crank and the breaks take hold, before the engine finally fell silent. He hadn’t realized just how noisy the banged-up vehicle was until it suddenly ceased to operate. He felt his body relax a bit, and wasn’t sure if it was because he’d reached safety at last, or if it was just the noise no longer wracking at his nerves. The rear door suddenly opened up once again, and Colin found that they were parked in a kind of hangar within the Barracks ship.
The ship was more than just a place for soldiers to sleep; it was an arsenal, a hangar, and the capital building of the Red Faction.
Small moons like this changed hands often between the governments that ruled over the Onion. Previously the Royal Alliance had a ship parked in this very place, and before that, the Consortium, who bought it back from the Royal Vanguard once the Factions War started winding down. For the most part, throughout these hand-offs, very little changed on Twin Crown itself, beyond the taxes being paid to someone else.
Twin Crown was small and very scarcely populated, it tended to get attached to bargains of far greater importance if only to sweeten the deal. Though to the Red Faction, which had mysteriously come into power inside fractured city-stations and the like, this was their only requisition to date… and held much of their hopes for the future.
Since the Red Faction had taken over the moon, many of the private corporations that had once held sway over the moon’s economy had started to feel the pressure of being forced out… which of course called the attention of the Trade Consortium.
Red Faction were communists, a fact that did not sit well with the capitalist Consortium. While communist ideals were in place in other sectors of the Onion, they had not yet taken root within the occupants of Grady.
The corporate domination of the small moon was still very much a way of life.
Communism could only amuse Colin, as one only need read a little bit of communist ideals to see it was all based on fantasy.
Colin had very little interest in governments, beyond of course the fact that their laws tended to make the ‘Organization’ that much more money. The family business was run on what other people decided to ban. Without these laws, they’d be fighting half a dozen other delivery companies for very little profit.
With Red Faction, Colin was sure they’d ban anything they did not have direct control over, which was good for his business, provided he operated outside of laws. Not so good for people in general, despite all their talk.
Colin was just about to exit the vehicle when soldiers suddenly appeared at the door. Surprisingly to Colin, he found himself shackled and being escorted to the brig along with Craiden. He could not help but wonder if this had to do with the fact he had brought the Drones to Twin Crown to begin with, though was savvy enough not to incriminate himself, thus kept his mouth shut.
All the while a small group of medics worked over the injured, including Mari, who was placed onto a stretcher to be brought to the Med bay. What they made of Margo’s lifeless form? Colin could not tell, though they seemed ready to load her onto a stretcher as well.
This was not the direction Colin had expected things to take, and once again found himself in lock-up, which he happened to hate. Though this twist was mild compared to what came next. As the soldiers that escorted him from the APC to the brig, suddenly disarmed and shoved the two soldiers that had avoided injury in the bot attack, into the cell with them.
Colin shook his head and decided just to find a comfortable seat, as he realized things were about to get that much harrier. Especially when the soldiers outside his cell began to attach small blue arm bands to the otherwise red armor of the Red Faction, and started weapon checks.
