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Rated: 13+ · Book · Sci-fi · #2033640
An Alliance soldier travels to a war-torn planet, her heritage quickly catches up
#843535 added March 20, 2015 at 2:30pm
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Chapter Five

Chapter Five


         Back at the Juliette base camp, Wells glared at her laptop in disbelief.  She had made several attempts to reach Nathalya, but heard nothing in response.  She pushed the laptop away, stood so quickly her chair was knocked over, and stormed outside of the control tent.  After a few minutes of frantic searching, she found Sergeant DeVega. He had been called back to the main compound earlier that morning, before Nathalya had met with the Corrinites, to a meeting held by Commander Proudmore in light of the cease fire. DeVega was sitting outside of his tent, smoking a short tobacco pipe and deep in thought. 

         “Nathalya's been taken!” said Wells. DeVega stood and knocked the ashes out of the pipe.

         "Taken prisoner?" he asked, then shook his head.  “I knew trusting them was a bad idea and poor judgment on her part, and mine for allowing her to go alone with them.”

         “Why did you run her off, threatening her with arrest and treason and all that?”  DeVega stood silent for a moment, then spoke.  “I wanted to protect her, just like you did.  My anger got the better of me and I said some things I shouldn't have.  But that doesn't matter now, what matters is that we figure out where they were taking her and if she is safe.”

         “I'm going to get her back.  You can sit and figure all you want," said Wells, glaring at him.

         “I think she should be rescued, but you can't go alone and you can't go with too many either.  Do you have any combat training?” he asked Wells who nodded.  “And which way did they take her?”

         “I heard them say something about the Tarrin Woodlands and Corrin City," Wells answered.

         “Okay, the woodlands are not far to our northwest.  I'll put a team together for her retrieval and come find you when finished.  Until then, go rest and get your pack ready.”

         Before she could leave the Sergeant, a blast of sirens filled the camp.  Wells' heart skipped and she cast a confused glance at DeVega. 

         “So much for the cease fire," he said, picking up his rifle.  He took off running towards the outer fences.

         

         The base camp was heavily besieged and the Corrinites proved to be too much for the unprepared Alliance soldiers to fight off.  Small explosions echoed off the surrounding hills and tents were set ablaze.  Wells hid behind a barrier, her pistol clutched with white knuckles, when a strong hand reached down and clasped her arm.  She pulled away sharply, but then looked into the sweat-drenched face of Sergeant DeVega. 

         “The base is overrun, let's go!” he shouted, and together they made to run out of the compound and head north.  As they passed through the security gate, a man broke cover from behind a small brush and fired upon them.  DeVega and Wells leapt behind the gate and pressed their backs to the thick, square concrete gate-posts on either side.  Rounds bounced off of the concrete in rapid succession and shattered the smooth surfaces.

         DeVega dropped a spent cartridge out of the bottom of his rifle and quickly slapped in another.  It was Wells, however, that made the next move.  Her adrenaline ran wild and when the firing halted, she jumped from cover and fired three deadly shots.

         Wells yelled for DeVega to follow her and they continued their way north and turned slightly west, unchallenged, towards the Tarrin Woodlands.  They ran for several miles before Wells had to stop.  “If I run any longer, my lungs will burst," she said through strained breaths.  "And my ankle hasn't quite recovered from the crash; it's starting to throb again."

         Sergeant DeVega looked behind them in the direction of the defeated Juliette compound.  Black smoke rose high into the blue sky and swept southeast with the wind.  Away to the east,  where the camp on the hilltop won after yesterday's battle would be located, DeVega noticed a second area with black smoke columns rising into the sky.

         “I don't think we are being pursued, but we can't stay here long.  And there is no point making for the hilltop camp, it looks like the Corrinites took that out as well.  Rest a moment, and then we will make our way into the woodlands,"  he said, pointing to a tree line that was just ahead of them and marked the edge of the Tarrin Woodlands.  Wells nodded and sat down on a patch of soft grass.  She took slow and deep breaths until she felt the strength return to her limbs.

         "What about everyone at the compound or the camp?" she asked, gently massaging her ankle.

         "Those that aren't killed or manage escape will probably be taken prisoner.  The Corrinites take great pleasure in putting us to work in their mines or watching us rot in prison," DeVega said.

         "Do you think that they'll make Nathalya work for them?"

         "I don't know.  I suppose they might, at least until they get from her what they wanted.  It's hard telling what will happen to her after that."

         "You don't think they'll kill her, do you?"

         "I don't think that will be their intention, no," he said.  "Though they might if they were forced to, if she tries to escape or accept rescue.  They went through a lot of trouble planning out this little deception of theirs.  Whatever they need her for must be of utmost importance to the Commander of the Corrinites.  I should have done more to stop her from going in the first place.  I knew something wasn't right.  She seemed so certain, though."

         "She's like that," said Wells. "Nathalya is very trusting and will often trust blindly until it is broken.  For her, everyone gets a chance, even if they aren't close friends.  Although, she can be very forgiving as well.  I'm glad she is, or we probably wouldn't be friends right now."

         "What happened?" asked DeVega.

         "She was shot and almost killed on a routine peace mission on the outskirts of a small city on Pharris.  I was supposed to be watching over her, but it was late night and there wasn't much happening.  I didn't mean to, but I nodded off at my console and didn't see the sniper posted on a rooftop across from where her team was patrolling.  He took one shot and hit Nathalya. Luckily, the rifle he used wasn't very powerful or accurate and her helmet absorbed most of the shock.  Still, the impact was more than enough to shatter the helmet and put her in a coma for two weeks.

         "When she awoke, she took all of the blame for what happened.  The incident became the only mark against her mission success rate.  Her eyesight was affected as well and because she was found negligent, the Alliance won't pay for the surgery to fix it and so she wears glasses all the time now.  She also has a small scar beside her left eye."

         DeVega stopped pacing for a moment and looked down at Wells, still rubbing her ankle.  Her eyes were puffy from holding back tears.

         "She sounds like a true friend, then," he said.  "If it had come to light that you had fallen asleep on duty, you would have likely been arrested and put on trial.  She saved you from a lot of trouble."

         "She did.  I just hope I get a chance to repay her."

         A few minutes later she stood and they walked to the mouth of the woodlands where DeVega paused for a moment.  He was looking down at the ground and smiling.

         “I've just found their tracks," he said.  “They must have taken her by horseback through the woodlands.  Follow me, they're easy to read!” he said excitedly, and they plunged into the forest..

         They ran through the woodland, taking breaks when Wells lagged behind, until they came to the edge at the other side and the sun hit their faces from the west.  Afternoon had become evening and they stood on a bank that ended abruptly and overlooked a large, bright city in the valley below.  In front of them was an uneven path that wound down the steep, rocky hillside and ended at the city gates.

         "Should we find another way down?" asked Wells.  "Those walls are way too high for us to climb over."

         "Pull your cloak around you and cover your insignias, I'll take off my armor and we'll head down the path and hopefully pass into the city unnoticed," he said, stripping down to a baggy, black under-suit and tossing his rifle into the woods. Wells tucked her pistol behind her in her belt and pulled her cloak around her shoulders.  "I hope this works," she said, and they walked side by side down the winding path to Corrin City.

         They approached the large gates of the city and were approached by an armed guard. Wells glanced at DeVega nervously, not expecting the gates to be closed.  DeVega nodded, and Wells understood that he wanted her to let him do the talking.

         "Evening, sir," said DeVega when the guard stopped in front of them and held up a hand.

         "Good evening.  The city is closed to outsiders.  What is your business in Corrin City?" asked the guard, looking them over.

         "We're on our way to visit the recruitment office.  We want to make those Alliance bastards pay for what they did to our village," DeVega lied, it was the first thing that came to his mind.

         "What village are you from?" asked the guard, looking suspiciously at them.  DeVega chanced a glance at Wells, hoping that she would be more familiar with the names of Corrinite villages.  She thought quickly and made up a name on the spot.

         "Moreland," she said.

         "Never heard of it," replied the guard.

         "And you never will," DeVega jumped in. "The Alliance wiped it out completely; we only just escaped with our lives."

         "Tragic," said the guard, his demeanor changing.  "However, the gate is closed and I have orders not to let anyone in without proper clearance.  Do you have your papers on you?"

         "No, they perished when our home was set on fire," said DeVega.

         "That is unfortunate," the guard replied.  "I can perhaps let you through if you have a family member in the city that can verify your lineage."

         "We have no family within the city.  May we pass if we give you our word that we will get new papers and come back tomorrow and show them to you?" offered DeVega.  The guard stood and considered a moment before speaking.

         "The city is closed.  I'm going call my superior," he said, then turned his back to DeVega and Wells. He never made it to the guard shack.  DeVega looked around; other than a small camera, they were alone.  Just as the guard reached for the door handle, DeVega struck hard and fast.

         The guard fell unconscious to the ground.  DeVega quickly opened the door and found a large red switch on a control panel.  He flipped the switch and the gates swung open.

         "Get inside!" he yelled to Wells.  He waited until she passed the gates and then flipped the switch to close the gates.  He exited the guard shack and sprinted full stride towards the gate.  He narrowly eked passed, turning sideways, before they closed with a clack and a shudder.


         To those who had never been inside the high walls of Corrin City, it seemed overwhelming and very confusing.  Looking at it from above, however, one could see that it has a very simple layout.  The city had many rounded tiers leading up to a wide tower that overlooked the buildings below.  There were stairs and ramps that connected all of the tiers and as they grew higher and taller, each of the five tiers was richer and more affluent than the previous.

         Within the tiers, and divided into four quadrants, homes and shops of all kinds lined the clean streets. There was also a track that carried a magnetic trolley from the lowest tier up through the spiraling city and down again.  It made several stops in each quadrant and was useful whether you were out shopping or just looking to wander around the city.


         Wells and DeVega had seemingly entered the city through a mostly unused back entrance and had to wind through several alleys before they reached the busier parts of the city.  The street they came to was lined with ordinary looking buildings with signs that were mostly in a language Wells or DeVega couldn't read.  People hurried from place to place, whether they were working or shopping. The crowds made it difficult for Wells and DeVega to move about.

         "Why are there so many people around when they're at war?" asked Wells.

         "The Corrinites have such a high population that they don't need everyone to join their military, which is good, otherwise they would simply overrun all of our bases just like they did to the compound," replied DeVega.

         "We stick out like sore thumbs in this crowd, though," said Wells, looking around and seeing that everyone was dressed in brightly colored clothing and seemed to be moving with purpose.  It was a high contrast to the black clothing and slow pace that they could manage.

         "So where to?" asked Wells, looking questioningly at DeVega. 

         "I haven't thought that far, yet," he replied.  "I think we should wait somewhere until we hear anything that might help us pinpoint Agent Harms' location.  The city is larger than I imagined and we don't want to cast any suspicion on ourselves."

         "So we need a plan," offered Wells. "How about this; we'll get some new clothes and then rent out a hotel room to serve as our base of operations.  I think if we hang out around wherever the off duty Corrinite soldiers spend their evenings, we should eventually learn something.  We can stick together or split up to cover more ground until we find her."

         DeVega nodded in approval.  "I think that is as good a plan as any for the moment.  Now if only we can locate a decent clothing store."

         "Leave that to me," said Wells.

         

         After visiting some shops on the third tier and procuring a couple of outfits each, carefully chosen by Wells - who was thankful the Alliance and Corrinites could at least agree on a currency - they made their way back down to the first level of the city.  The sun was now sitting on the horizon and orange light bounced off the reflective surfaces of the buildings in the upper tiers.  On the lowest level, however, the street was shadowed and mostly empty now. 

         As they walked, the buildings around them became more and more derelict.  Save for a few porch lights and the neon signs that hung outside of small bars with few patrons, there was little indication of life.  The air was cold and bit the ears of the two walking side by side in search of a place to stay.

         Finally, they came to a small three story building that had a faintly lit neon sign, on which several letters were unlit, that read 'Tavrill's Tavern – Vacany'.  They walked in and up to a large, timber topped counter, behind which sat a man with a large gray beard and moustache who was fast asleep, his hands clasped over his wide chest that moved slowly in and out.  Wells looked around and saw that everything was mostly hand made, likely carved out of large trees of a nearby woodland and polished so well that the fire burning in the stone fireplace danced in their surfaces.

         DeVega rung a small brass bell on the counter-top and the man woke with a startle.

         “Excuse me!” he said in a low and jolly voice, blinking and rubbing his eyes.  “I must have drifted off.  I can't resist closing my eyes when the warmth of the fire closes in around me like a blanket.  And if I'm being honest, I wasn't expecting any guests tonight, what with the city being closed to travelers and all.”

         “That is quite all right.  Tavrill, I presume," said DeVega.  The man nodded.  “We need a room please, do you have anything available.”

         “I do, please sign the ledger," said Tavrill.  “So what brings you two to my tavern on this fine evening?”

         Wells and DeVega paused while scrawling their signatures onto the old paper and looked at each other for a moment, then DeVega spoke.  “We're visiting a friend," he said. Tavrill looked at him for a moment.

         “I thought the city was closed to travelers and outsiders?” he asked, then slid the ledger back into his sight and read the signatures.

         “It is, but we have special permission granted by the guard at the gate and he allowed us to enter," said Wells. 

         “Well, that is something,” replied Tavrill, stroking his beard.  “Didn't know a lowly guard could grant permission when the lord of the city commands otherwise.  And how long will you be staying, Mr. DeVega?” he asked, taking back the ledger and glancing at their names.

         “We're not entirely sure.  Can we reserve a room day by day?” asked DeVega.

         “I don't think that will be a problem, I'll just take a deposit upfront and then open a tab for you.  When you leave, you'll pay the tab minus the deposit and that will be that.”

         “Thank you," said DeVega.

         "Oh," said Tavrill. "And if you have trouble following you, I only ask that you give me a heads up before it gets here."

         “Separate beds, please," said Wells, ignoring his request.  He gave them their key and pointed down the hall.

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