Chapter 10

Nicholas, Valen, and Lis darted out as fast as they could, and back into the black passageway. Since most of the Talon hadn’t known what was going on, it had given them a few seconds head start before any real reaction was made. A sudden crack, boom, and flash of light drove both Nicholas and Lis to a stop as the earth shook around them.

“Keep going,” Valen shouted, as large bits of rock fell behind him. “I’m just blocking up one exit, I’ve got a few explosives on me.”

They turned and continued to run, quickly making it back to the main room, and then straight to the ladder. Shouts and the echoing fall of footsteps were coming in through the other openings, bringing fear with them. Upon reaching the ladder Nicholas paused, and let Lis up first. Every passing second felt like whole minutes lost. Valen came behind and urged him up, he was breathing hard and seemed… Nicholas couldn’t tell. Something was noticeably different about his countenance, even in the dark.

“Go,” Valen said, “I’ll stay behind and give you more time.”

“You’ll be killed!” Nicholas protested. Valen just shrugged.

“It won’t make much of a difference in the long run…” he trailed off, looking back at the passage, and then at Nicholas again. “I already gave blood to the Stone years ago, I’d rather die fighting.” Nicholas stood shocked for a second, looking at his guide and companion with both respect and sadness.

“Guys,” Lis called from above, “I’ve got an exit open, come on!” Nicholas gave Valen a grateful nod, and then turned to climb. The exit wasn’t that far up, and opened into another hotel room. The sounds of battle below, which started with Valen chanting some sort of battle cry, began just as Nicholas slipped inside.

“Shut the door,” he said, “Valens not coming.” Lis obeyed without question, her countenance sober.

“Did he tell you,” she asked as they turned to run.

“Yes,” Nicholas said bluntly. They both leapt through the sliding door and into the corridor. They were on the bottom floor, and the lobby could be seen from where they stood. Casting bits of armor and gear away they darted forwards and then out of the building, disturbing more than one spectator and creating quite a scene. Once on the landing pad again they looked around, hearts pounding and lungs gasping for breath.

“We can’t just wait for a trolly,” Nicholas said.

“That’s alright, I brought these,” Lis handed him a small fabric object with a cushioned grip.

“What is this?”

“A small parachute. Just pull the small cord on the end of your handle to open it, like this.” She turned, and leapt off the edge of the platform. Nicholas ran after her, stunned with horror, but overcome with relief after a black air filled dome opened up above her. He looked down at his own, and shivered. He still hated heights, but didn’t have a choice. Closing his eyes he jumped, holding on to the grip with all his might, and pulled. The chute opened instantly, and lifted up a bit, slowing his decent and sending a welcome strain into his arms as he hung. He opened his eyes, after a bit of hesitation, and once again looked about him. He wasn’t too far from the ground now, and there was an open lot right beneath, which would make landing easy. Lis had already reach the bottom, leaving her parachute on the ground and making a dash for gap between two towers. He’d have to take a different route. It had been decided that, if something unfortunate should occur, everyone would split up and return to the hideout.

Nicholas almost lost his grip suddenly as a laser pierced through the cloth above him. He was only about fifteen feet above the ground though, and just let himself drop, sprinting towards the closest shelter, some kind of open storehouse, as soon as his feet hit the ground. More shots from above followed him closely until he was out of site. The building was full of crates, and a few workers were huddled in a group discussing something; they looked up as Nicholas entered.

“You need something?” One asked, Nicholas didn’t stop to meet their gaze but kept running.

“You’re going to want to get out of here!” He shouted, and almost instantly afterwards a handful of Talon soldiers burst through a different enterece, blasting at everything that moved. Nicholas was fortunate to escape these, bolting out through a large open bay and into an ally. Determined shouts met his ears from all around, and the chase was on. He sped down the ally, and through the back door of another building, this one some kind of public office. He passed through this quickly, and came upon an empty street. He wanted to run across, but feared the openness of it. He gave a quick glance behind, and then pulled in a deep breath before running like a wild man. As expected more shots followed him, but he make it across without a harm. The shouts were growing fuller now as more and more Talon were joining the hunt, and Nicholas’ confidence, not to mention energy, was draining. As he ran between buildings he kept his eyes open for any kind of unusual spot to hide, or stay and fight. He was tired of being on the move, but finding nothing helpful he continued; it wasn’t like he had a choice.

He continued like this, darting around, through, and between structures; under overpasses, and even through a couple empty culverts. It seemed that each of his pursuers gained two steps for every one of his though, and things were beginning to get way too close. All it would take is a wrong turn into a dead end, one stumble, or really any kind of mistake on his part and things would be over; the margin for error was practically zero.

Pop! Crack! Some sort of static or electric explosion erupted behind him, and a pair of firm arms stayed his dash. Looking up he stared into the blue visor of the darkly armored figure, who released him to hurl a small spherical object at the approaching hoard.

“You’re lucky to get help so frequently,” the unexpected yet very welcome voice of Drogan Conver said as another blast of light and electricity released shockwaves into the uneven ranks of Talon, who now drew back for a split second to avoid destruction. “But luck can’t save everything, so let’s move!” With this he took off at a heavy sprint, Nicholas staying at his side, with much effort.

“What are you doing here?” He asked through grateful breaths, glad to be following someone he actually knew this time.

“I think I’m saving your life kid.”

“But like, how did you know I needed help?”

“I saw a large amount of Talon chasing you.”

“So were you just out on a mission or, what?”

“You could say that,” they stopped, having reach a dead end. A large brick wall stood before them, between two shabby apartment buildings. “This is where we take our stand,” Drogan said, pulling out and igniting a blue energy shield, and readying his gun. Nicholas pulled out his own weapon and stood, waiting.

“We’re not giving up are we?” He asked, assuming Drogan had a plan.

“No, just holding things off until the police get here.”

“Oh,” Nicholas said, unsure if that was comforting or not.

“Can you scale the wall?” Drogan asked.

“Uh,” Nicholas turned and looked. There were some drainage pipes going up unevenly, and a good number of crevices for hand and footholds. He should be able to. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good, when the police get here I’l let you leave.”

“You know…”

“I know a lot, and I can tell you know some things too. I’d suggest getting out of here as soon as you can, and acting upon the information you have. I’ll come after you when things get—” a sudden blast whipped between their faces, summoning the fight. Lasers flew everywhere, and Nicholas, not having a shield of his own, had to take cover behind some tin barrels and old dumpsters. Every now and then, Drogan would either toss or roll another one of those explosive objects towards the enemy, who were keeping themselves well hidden in the tangle of buildings and scattered objects. The back allies were almost a junkyard, and provided good shelter, almost too good. Neither side seemed to be making much progress.

Drogan turned his body as an electrified spear spiraled towards him, something his shield would provide little protection against. He fired a couple shots into a cloud of smoke where the spear had come from, listening for a cry of pain or the thud of a fallen body as he ducked behind a large stack of wooden crates; none came. The air around was filled with the whistle and wines of lasers, almost sounding like a flock of crazed tropical birds. A different sound suddenly rang above him, and he stepped aside as a screaming Talon warrior landed on the ground beside him. He’d jumped down from a window above, and now charged Drogan, spear in hand. Drogan dodged the man’s first blow, but took hold of the weapon on his next, twisting the warrior’s arm behind his back, which caused him to cry out in pain. A swift kick sent him directly into the fire of his companions.

“Drogan!” Nicholas shouted as another foe sprang from above, almost embedding a large knife into Drogan’s head. Nicholas took aim and made quick work of him, just before diving away from a threatening blast sent from above. Snipers were taking places in the apartment buildings beside them. Things were about to get more than ugly, if help didn’t appear soon. A few more well placed shots form Nicholas, and Drogan sending his last explosives through a couple lofty windows, helped keep some of the ugliness at bay, but time was running out, as well as options.

A short time later a hum from multiple landing aircraft, followed by the sound of fiercer firepower, let them know their help had arrived. Nicholas felt a flood of relief wash over him, which was quickly overcome by the desire to leave. He turned to face his comrade, who gave him a slow nod before turning to continue fighting Nicholas whirled around and scaled the wall as quickly as possible, handling the piping carefully so as not to rip it out of its fittings. He made it over, and down the other side, which opened up onto an open street. There were some police there, mostly patrol officers who were keeping citizens at a good distance from the scene. Slipping inside a building to his right Nicholas evaded being spotted and started his trek back to the headquarters, wherever that was. He didn’t really know this part of town, but he assumed it didn’t matter. He would just walk wherever he chose. If Drogan was going to follow him, he’d be able to get help, and answers, two things he looked forward to.

Groovzy!
Great writing as always!

@Gman Thanks! How is clarity? I'm feeling like it's getting a little mundane with all to literally twists and turns between allies, halls, etc etc... I mean, that's been a LOT of this story. Maybe I'm just running out of ways to phrase stuff... XD

Clarity is pretty good, the story seems to be flowing well.

Dang thats one heck of a chapter 👍 very well written hey guys

@Drogan Good 😂, I still think I need a more diverse vocabulary though... and by diverse I don't mean favoring lesser used words 😉

@Fireblade Thanks! The next one will hopefully clear a few things up, and kinda bring a bit of rest to all this chaos... at least, sorta o_O

Things move quickly when I have no models to makes 😉

Chapter 11

Nicholas had been wandering for a while, and was currently seated on a bench in a nice part of town when Drogan showed up.

“Got tired of walking?” Drogan asked, removing his helmet and sitting down. Nobody was really out, at least nearby, and the night air seemed cool and refreshing; something they both needed.

“Yeah, not sure how you managed to find me, but oh well.”

Drogan smirked. “I have my ways, but no matter. Somethings troubling you.”

Nicholas opened his mouth to speak, but paused, cocked his head and thought for a second. He had a lot he wanted to say, and wasn’t really sure where to start. He guessed he would start with the latest thing, and see where things carried. “I just lost a companion.” He felt sorta conflicted in titling Valen this way, because he really knew very little about him, but still, he felt a connection and a small amount of grief.

“It’s always part of war,” Drogan answered, looking straight forwards into the busy city air traffic on the horizon.

“You say we’re in war?” Nicholas questioned.

“On the brink of it, or, in the middle perhaps. I’m not ever sure that the Fourth Interstellar war ended.” They remained silent for a moment. Drogan pondering over his own words, and Nicholas trying to think of what to say next. He wanted to bring up Enya, but wasn’t sure how to word it right, and wasn’t sure where Drogan would stand on the issue. He seemed to know of Nicholas’ trouble with the police, and he might even already know of Enya’s treachery, so he felt it was probably safe. Then again, could Drogan be playing tricks? What if he was on Enya’s side, and was only acting as a friend to gain information, or prevent another chase from rising. He wasn’t sure, but he had a gut feeling that Drogan was all he appeared to be, and he chose to fall on that.

“Enya’s head of the Talon,” he said so simply he surprised himself. Drogan looked at him, surprise written on his own face, yet not extensively. This could have been because he already knew something, or because he didn’t give off expression that freely. Either way, he still remained collected.

“That would explain both our situations,” he said contemplatively.

“Both?”

“I left the GP not too long ago, because she was asking me to go against justice in some areas. She doesn’t like either of us.”

“Oh. What about the rest of 208?”

“Most of them, or I guess all but Clayton don’t like it. They follow orders though, mostly because Clayton’s the leader.”

“He’s not in with all this is he?” Nicholas asked, feeling slightly concerned for the Captain. He’d always liked Clayton, he’d been somewhat of a friend and consoler, especially through his training. Finding out Clayton was on the wrong side would be more than troubling.

“No, he just goes by the book, and honestly has reason to.” Drogan paused, as if questioning if it was safe to discuss what he was saying. “Back in the last war,” he started again, “when he was younger, and the GP was under different leadership, he went against orders that seemed wrong to him. That was a mistake, and cost us all a lot of lives and equipment… and it cost him a wife and infant daughter. He won’t dare go against the slightest rule now. It hurts him, because I think he does know they’re wrong sometimes, but in a way he can’t help in.”

“Oh,” Nicholas said soberly, feeling sympathetic something close to pity for Clayton. He knew what it was like to lose a family, but he also realized that Clayton was confined by the complicated bars of his own grief, experience, and conscience, and it was saddening.

“Clayton was wrong the first time,” Drogan stated, “but that was different. We had good leadership. Things are much different now, and we know for a fact that even what seems to be good is corrupt.”

“I guess truth varies with circumstance,” Nicholas said quietly.

“No, truth doesn’t vary.” There was a change of tone that came upon Drogan’s voice, and it drew at Nicholas’ attention. “Circumstances are what changes, and they can make truth hard to discern, but truth doesn’t change.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, it’s like murder. It’s wrong to murder, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong to kill. Sometimes killing is the only way to keep wrong things, even murder, from happening. It can be hard to know when, and why to kill, but it’s sometimes the right thing to do. It’s the circumstances that bring the when and why into question, but the truth remains the same; murder is wrong.” Nicholas nodded slowly. Drogan’s words made sense, but brought in a new question with them. What did his circumstances mean? Before he could ask anything however Drogan stood up, fingering some kind of electronic devise on his wristguard.

“I have to go now,” he said sharply, and then mounted his helmet again.

“Is something wrong?”

“Time will tell, but you go your way, and do your thing.”

“I’m lost,” Nicholas said, feeling somewhat embarrassed now that he was telling someone, feeling like he should know the city better. Drogan didn’t give any kind of belittling response however, and reached into a small compartment on his utility belt. Pulling out a small GPS console he tossed it to Nicholas.

“Don’t feel the need to return that, I’ve got all I need.”

“Thanks,” Nicholas said with a wave, and watched his friend depart. Their discussion hadn’t been as full, or helpful as he would have liked, but he was better off than he’d been. Though, he couldn’t say he had any less to think about.

Switching on the GPS he surveyed the digital map until he found a route back to their hideout, or at least the general location. It was a good ways away, and he might not get back before day break. As he started out the desire for sleep hit him hard. He hoped for some kind of break once there, and prayed nothing else might get in his way before then. Despite all the things he’d just learned, from both his night’s mission and his chat with Drogan, he couldn’t help but focus on how chaotic the past two nights had been. He thought about the heavy worked days he’d had back home, and how full they had felt. None of that even compared to all he’d been through now. It was as if a lifetime of experience, thrill, and terror had been dumped out on him, and washed him up and out of a whirlpool, and caused him to wonder how much longer he could actually live like this.

The night tarried on, and his feet ached more and more with every step. He stopped about halfway for a break, sitting on the ground in a somewhat secluded spot, his back resting against a wall. It was there he realized he would be passing the Police Station before too long. This wasn’t comforting, not that he knew of any certain threat, but the possibility was there. Looking again at the GPS he started to look for other possible routes, but stopped as an idea came to him. If he could prove Enya’s guilt, surely good men like Clayton would stand up and take action. The Police Station could in fact be the very place he needed to go. He knew the circumstances, and others needed to as well. Perhaps this would be what Drogan would call for, if he wasn’t alerting other cops himself. It wasn’t without risk, like most of the choices he’d been making recently, but if things went his way the results could be overwhelmingly positive, and he might even get a break.

He stood up and made straight way for the station, feeling a slight spring of eagerness in his step. All he had to do was find someone he could trust, perhaps someone from 208, or even Regan and his men. Suddenly he stooped, listening, he thought he heard someone call him. He looked to his left, across a motionless street to the opposite sidewalk. Lis was there.

“Nicholas, wait up,” she said, hurrying across as if there was heavy traffic approaching. “Glad to see you made it,” she said when there, “I was worried.”

“Thanks,” Nicholas said, continuing his walk. “It got really chaotic but, I had an old friend help.”

“Who?” She asked, a bit of uncertainty in her voice.

“It’s fine, he’s an old… uh, an old agent I guess. He’s stop working for the Galactic Police because of Enya—” he cut himself off, realizing that Lis probably hadn’t picked up on his discovery. “Enya Airtron is leading the Talon, she was the woman holding the stone. That’s how she recognized me.” Lis’s eyes grew wide and the information.

“You’re sure?”

“I have no doubt.”

“We hadn’t really thought that as a possibility,” she muttered. “We knew there was some corruption in the GP, but we honestly thought Enya was just handling things poorly. I can’t believe we didn’t see this by now.” He wiped her forehead as if physically brushing away the last remaining fringes of a vail that had been covering her mind.

“I’m on my way to alert the police right now.” Nicholas said.

“What? Nicholas you need to think through things before taking action, and let us—”

“It’s fine,” he said, lifting his hands up and feeling more confident with each passing moment. “I’ve got friends there.”

“We’re your friends too.”

“I guess, but really, I need to act before Enya does, if she hasn’t already. You can get the others for support, but I need to go.”

Lis looked at him, slightly angry, but holding back form showing it. She was concerned, but could see that Nicholas was determined and it probably would only waste time to stay and attempt to convince him otherwise. So without a word she turned and left, running off back to their headquarters as quickly as she could. Hopefully Nicholas was right, but she doubted it, and feared for not only him but their entire team if things failed.

Great chapter!

Nice one!

Thank you!

I am loving Nicholas's character development. The interactions between him and Drogan are wonderfully written. I love how you infuse truths subtly and without blaring in people's faces. I think you have a talent for it.

@Dragon (I almost just called you Drogan 😂). Thanks! I'm glad to hear his development is going well... because I kinda just feel like I've thrown him here and there without much though... well, I kinda have... but at least it's going well. As far as how I present truth, that's my goal. To anyone who reads my stuff, I want them to be able to see truth, yet not in a way that they can't relate to, or that turns them off. I really just want to write stuff that people can connect with. Sadly a lot of Christian authors don't do that... and I feel like it often kinda takes the purpose out of Christian fiction. It become more of a story with Christian characters, instead of a Christian story.

@Greenie, I agree, there's been a lot of that with Christian books. 😕 quite sad really, Bryan Davis however writes really great Christian books. I'm literally paranoid that you guys are going to send something in invisible text that I won't see >_<

@Fireblade I still need to read his book. Andrew Peterson is also a master at it as well. I'm not sure if I've actually ever been more inspired to love others through reading any other book more than the Wingfeather Saga...

groovy!youdidn'tseethis

@Justy, ikr!? I did...

@Justy THANKS BRO!!!!You LIE!!!

@Greeny, I agree, Andrew Peterson is brilliant at that.

@Dragon I kinda set him as my standard...I guess you didn't see these this time XD

Chapter 12

The Police Station wasn’t hard to get into, once Nicholas had arrived just before daybreak. He knew a lot of the entry codes, and secluded entrances that he could use to avoid from really being seen. He now stood in a quiet hall, with small office rooms lining both sides. It was cool and clean, and so quiet that the faint hum of computers from each office could be heard without even trying to listen. He presented himself as casually as he could and just kept walking, believing that, though some might question his presence, being out of uniform and all, if he acted welcomed he would be viewed as just that.

He first made his way to the barracks, wanting to see if his personal belongings where still there, and if he could get back in uniform to blend in. He only passed a few people on the way, and mainly because he did take a longer, yet much more secluded path than normal. His heart beat wildly as each person approached, but he kept his composure and usually just smiled and nodded. No one gave him much care. Once in the barracks however, things felt more uncertain. A lot of the people who lived in here knew him, and would probably recognize him on sight. He did come at a good time though, most would be at the dining hall eating breakfast, though they would be finishing up very soon. He assumed most would go straight to work, but some might return to drop off or pick up something. If he acted quickly he could get in and out before then. As he quickened his pace, he felt the urge to wince every time his boot struck the cold hard floor. It was puzzling how unnatural the sound of walking was when danger seemed close at hand.

When he finally reached his room, he frowned. His space had been cleared and cleaned. Nothing remained. There was plenty of off-duty uniforms in the closet however, so he took one and quickly changed. Then, with a quick look around, he stepped over into a fellow officer’s area and began looking through his things. They were all given small personal handguns to keep, just incase of emergency. Most officers kept them on a small shelf with all their other belongings, because better weaponry was provided during work. Nicholas might need a way of defending himself, if things turned for the worse, and with all his things being confiscated, he’d have to borrow a blaster from someone else. Upon finding one, he slipped it into his right pocket and turned to leave. He’d next be going to the Elite and Special Forces Department, to see if he could find Clayton, or Regan, or anyone else with the potential of being helpful. It was on the other side of the Station, but he felt more confident now that he was in uniform again. He still would stay out of the open as much as possible though.

As he walked across the headquarters, looking around at what he’d called home not even two days ago, he had mixed feelings. Part of him missed the place, and part of him hated it. Really, while he’d felt a sense of duty and progress while there, the strict and rigid lifestyle was so contrary from the free life he’d grown up with. The small bit of freedom he’d received while away, even just for a little over a day, and that filled with one bazaar event after another, had given him a taste for something different. Over these thoughts though, he felt that he was about too drowned in his nervousness, and just wanted to get things sorted. Maybe Lis and the others would show up soon, if they were let in. Whether they came or not though he had to act as if they weren’t.

The entrance to the Elite and Special Forces Department was a couple of large sliding doors, accessed to by a large wide star at the end of an open and empty courtyard. Day had broken, and warm rays of sun cast themselves across the ground. He had arrived there without any trouble, but now stood unsure. The doors could be opened by a small keypad on the left side, and he wasn’t sure he knew the code. It might just be the standard code for most of the other departments, G288F4, but then again he’d never been told, so he leaned away from the idea. He didn’t think entering the wrong code would set off an alarm, otherwise alarms would be blearing every time someone accidentally bumped the wrong digit, he did feel though that there was still need to take extra precaution.

He kept waiting, fixed in though, when suddenly the doors slid open and out stepped a group of men. Nicholas seized the opportunity and strode forwards, still trying to keep his relaxed figure. It appeared as if luck was on his side though, because he suddenly realized Clayton was with them.

“Captain Clayton,” he said, stopping and lifting his hand in greeting. Everyone looked, but only Clayton halted; it appeared he wasn’t with the others.

“Nicholas,” Clayton said in greeting. He was friendly like always, but there also seemed to be a subtle seriousness in his voice. Perhaps he was just tired.

“I’ve got something I need to tell you quick,” Nicholas began, looking at the departing group to make sure they were out of ear shot.

“I’m,” Clayton began, but hesitated, looking away himself. He seemed very reluctant, and a sudden dread came over Nicholas. Clayton knew something. “I’m not supposed to talk with you Nicholas,” he finally said, but reluctantly. “And you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Come on Clayton,” Nicholas started, feeling extremely agitated now, and worried. “Don’t—” he was cut off as the Captain quickly drew his blaster an aimed it right and Nicholas’ chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’ve been given orders to arrest you on sight.” Nicholas swallowed hard, things were going down hill a little quicker than he’d thought. He could feel heat rising to his head, and he let out a long, deep breath, trying to stay collected.

“Don’t listen to any of that Clayton, do what you know is right.”

“It’s right to obey orders kid.”

“Not always.” The two stared hard into each others eyes, locked in what seemed like a test of minds. Finally, Clayton looked away and at the ground, and Nicholas made his move. Unexpectedly he kicked the gun clean out of Clayton’s grip, and then struck him hard in the face with his right fist just before dashing off, sending him staggering to the floor. It may have hurt Nicholas more than Clayton, and in all honestly he had to fight back tears from welling up in his eyes. He didn’t like hurting people, much less people he cared about, but to him it looked like the only way of escape. Or maybe this wasn’t escape, it was moving forwards with the plan. He’d get to Enya on his own, if Clayton didn’t chase after him, which he felt certain he would. That might be the better case though, because then he could show Clayton their leader’s treachery.

“Stop fool!” The Captain called from behind, retrieving his gun and picking up the chase.

“I will,” Nicholas shouted back, “once we’re there.” He looked before him at a small tower, not too far away. It was where Enya’s office was, and he could see her window from the courtyard. With a large handful of quick strides he was there, and inside. He’d entered into quiet a lobby, where a young lady sat behind a desk.

“Can I help you?” She asked, slightly startled to see someone burst in so quickly.

“Nope,” Nicholas said as he continued his run, making for a stairwell at the back of the room. He could take the elevator, but that might take more time, and there was risk of getting stuck in there.

“Stop him!” He suddenly heard Clayton yell as he entered himself. Almost instantly an alarm blared, and lights flashed. Things were getting tight.

Leaping through the door Nicholas bounded up the stairs. He heard a guard approaching from above, and body slammed him as soon as he came into sight. In one jerky, yet quick motion he stole away the surprised soldiers weapon, switched it to stun mode, and sent to man into the world of unconsciousness. He wasn’t going to kill anyone he didn’t have to.

Clayton had gained a bit of ground through Nicholas’ small scuffle, and quick as it had been, and was now just barely out of arms reach. If he wasn’t on a staircase he might have tried lunging for him. Nicholas would soon be one Enya’s level. The sound of fellow officers joining the chase came from below, their shuffling and heavy footfalls shaking the entire well. It was turning into chaos, and as the chaos grew, his strength seemed to slip away. What was he doing? Nicholas wasn’t a bad kid, and he knew it. He was there the night Nicholas was kicked out, he’d been one of the shadowed troopers who’d fought him in the simulator. Enya’s reasoning was faulty, and this all seemed wrong, but it was his duty to follow orders. With a sigh he picked up his pace, he’d slacked off during his thoughts, allowing the distance between him and Nicholas to deepen. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to. He’d committed himself to doing what was right, and that meant obeying orders even when everything in him screamed against them. It was becoming harder as of late, but he couldn’t go against his commitment.

Once Nicholas had reached the last stare, and darted through the doorway, Enya’s office was right there, closed off by it’s heavy gray doors and guarded by a pair of troopers who’d been waiting for him. They shot, but he dodged, and took hold of the closest one; slamming him into the wall. He felt the other guard grab him from behind, and so he turned to fight back. It was too late though, Clayton and the others had reached him and he was soon caught in a mass of strong arms. Was it over? Probably. Perhaps he had been a bit of an idiot.