Holmcross Project (Year 1)

Chapter 5: Punishment

Colt stumbled into the hallway near his room, pushed by Jaivan. "Okay, enough pushing! I can freakin' WALK for Guardians' sake!" He turned to Jaivan and Luger, the younger of which had Wesson by the shoulder. Springfield rubbed his head as he recovered from bumping into the wall when Jaivan pushed him alongside Colt.

"Now that we're back where you BELONG, it's time to talk." Jaivan said, cracking his knuckles. "Colt, you've been nothing but uncooperative, and I doubt you would've waited for a crisis to get out if you could. You're much too active." He walked over to him. "In fact, the past few times you've gotten in trouble, you've gotten off far too easy. I think it's time to change that."

"Puh. You said yourself that General Lennox can't punish me until after the funeral! I'm not being punished until then!"

"Oh, really?" Jaivan gave a cold smile and Colt noticed Luger gripping Wesson's shoulder tighter, holding him there. "If that's going to be your attitude about it, I suppose it's time to take things into my own hands." He pushed Colt to the ground. Springfield gasped and ducked out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Hey, knock it off!" Colt yelled as he sat up, his legs bent.

"I don't think your striking the right tone here, Colt." Jaivan looked down at him coldly, and then gave a sadistic smile, gripping Colt's hair roughly.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"Maybe you'd like all your punishments right now?" Jaivan suddenly slammed his foot down on Colt's knees as hard as he could, and they barely heard an audible CRACK over Colt's scream of agony. Wesson whimpered and closed his eyes and Springfield's eyes widened as they heard another CRACK accompanied with cries of pain. When Jaivan stepped back, Colt was lying on the ground with his legs limp, his body trembling in pain. "What was that you were saying about walking? Looks like you'll have to stay in for a while. Pity."

"You...bastard..." Colt said through teeth clenched in pain, his hands gripping his legs.

"Alright, you can let Wesson go. I think he's learned his lesson on what rule-breaking leads to." Jaivan nodded to Luger and then turned to Springfield, who stiffened up. "Take this sludge back to your room. And don't disobey orders again." He turned and walked off, leaving Colt on the floor.

Wesson knelt next to Colt as soon as Luger released him and walked off with Jaivan. "Colt...? You okay...?"

"I hate him..." Colt whispered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Springfield slowly got up and then knelt to pick Colt up with both arms, cradling his broken body. "I'm sorry, Colt..."

"Don't be. You didn't do it." Colt tried to smile, but the pain was too unbearable and it came out more like a grimace.

--

The Queen's death had brought grief from Adlehyde to the other Kingdoms, as she was most loved by many people of the world. She was a skilled shaman of the Guardians and a devoted Queen, so the loss of her was too painful for some to bear. The funeral procession was lined with flowers and people that wished her well on the other side, the King of Adlehyde and Amelia in the forefront with Prince Lionel holding his father's hand, crying. As they approached the grave-site, the princess gripped the sacred Tear Drop, the family heirloom, and began to pray to the Guardians for them to protect her people and to care for her mother's body.

"Oh, Zeldukes, please care for my mother, as she rests in your care. Gurdijeff, care for her as she rests in your earth. I will try to do as she did, and protect the world with your power. Please, grant me your power to protect the people of this world she loved."

The King and guards knelt with her, and then once she was done praying the procession continued and watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, a choir softly singing her away.

Colt and Springfield spent the day of the funeral in their room while Wesson, Nils, Jaivan, Benelli, and Luger sat in the conference hall away from it all. Wesson looked down at his hands resting on the table glumly and kicked his legs absently.

"Jaivan...I don't think you needed to use lethal force on Colt."

"It was hardly lethal. He wouldn't learn anything dead." Jaivan said simply. "He's much like the animal that shares his name; young, stubborn, and stupid. And the only way to teach someone like that is to break a bone or two."

"But, he'll be confined to a wheelchair even after his suspension! It takes a while to repair his legs! Shouldn't he see a doctor?" Wesson insisted.

"He'll be fine." Jaivan waved it off.

Luger looked at Benelli. "Do you have any thoughts on this, Benelli?"

"Jaivan knows how to handle Colt best, most of the time. And it is true that if not bridled, Colt will run wild." Benelli said flatly. "Maybe this will teach him humility and patience, something he has needed to learn."

Luger sighed. "Humility and patience...you'd think just being in this army would teach him that..." He looked at Nils. "Nils, what are you working on?"

"The lab is closed, so I'm making drafting a diagram for a new bomb." Nils explained. "Hey, why are we here anyway? Why not send us back to the ship?"

"It's closer, if they want us." Luger said, nodding.

Wesson stood up. "Well, I don't like that Colt was reduced to that! And calling him 'sludge' was too much, Jaivan! Why are you always so mean?!"

"Wesson, please. Enough about Colt." Luger sighed. "He's received his punishment, which is better than what he would've gotten. Please sit down and stop antagonizing Jaivan."

Wesson clenched his fists, but complied with a huff.

After the funeral, a guard came in and told those without current assignments to return to the ship, and that they would be called on when General Lennox needed them to be. The group walked out, Wesson shooting Jaivan a look before he went down the opposite direction with Nils.

-

The next day, a wheelchair was brought in for Colt to be able to leave his bed, and a doctor came and put his legs in casts. "It'll be a few months, but they will repair. Hang in there, and don't forget to take your pain medication." The doctor rubbed the teen's shoulder reassuringly, and then left, leaving Colt to stare out the window from his wheelchair.

"...Right." Colt mumbled. "Thanks."