The Darker Side of Me

Capture

In my nightmares, I relive my capture once again. They dragged me away while I thrashed and screamed for the death of my closest friend. They had killed her with a shot of plasma and, unthinking, I'd charged them with my inferior triteza, the blade dancing with electricity. They shot the sword out of my hand, sending it spinning off into the distance, and were about to kill me too when their commander stopped them.

"No, no..." he'd said, grabbing my chin and forcing my head up until I was looking him in the eyes. Someone that evil had no right to be maddeningly handsome, with longish dark hair and piercing blue eyes that glittered dangerously as he studied my face. He was young for a commander, no more than twenty-five.

I glared, and would have spat as well, but he held me so tightly that I couldn't move my jaw.

"There is fire in her eyes," he concluded. "We can use her."

He snapped his fingers, and one of his men lumbered forward, slinging me over his shoulder and 'accidentally' holding me by my rear end. His fingers started exploring, but I wiggled until he was forced to grab my waist to keep me from getting away. I kept fighting.

"Enough of that," the commander said. "You'll only tire yourself out."

I kept straining for a few seconds, just to spite him. He smirked, amused, and strode to the front of his squad. I hated to give in, but I knew he was right. If I wanted to escape, I needed to conserve my strength. I stopped. The soldier's hand tightened on my buttocks, but the commander, without looking back, said, "Gental, enough of that too."

"Yes Commander Teague," he muttered sullenly. He released my rear and shifted me to a more orthodox shoulder carry.

Craning my neck for one last glimpse of the towering outpost where I'd been stationed, I was devastated to see it in flames. There would be no survivors. Only me, a prisoner of whatever horror Commander Teague saw fit to bestow.

Paying no heed to the destruction they had left, the squadron approached their dark military transport, an armored truck sinking into the soft hilltop. The commander pressed the activation toggle that hung around his neck. Fascinated despite my anger, I watched the transport lift with a whir, searching for metal to activate the magnetic propulsion. It shuddered and fell to the ground. Not enough deposits to keep it aloft. Maybe the squadron would have to walk, and maybe Gental would get tired of carrying me, and maybe he would put me down and then I could run... but no such luck. The truck may have fallen, but when Gental shifted, I could see that oldways wheels had deployed.

Gental tromped up the metal stairs. The moment we entered the transport, he unceremoniously threw me into a hard plastic seat at the front. I grunted as my head collided with an armrest. As he moved to sit right next to me, I tensed, fearing more advances. Thankfully, before he could seat his hefty rear, Teague's arm shot out across the opening, effectively blocking Gental's path.

"I will sit here," he said in a conversational tone that left no room for debate. His other hand rested on the holster at his side, emphasizing the statement. Grumbling filled the chamber. They'd all been wanting to get to me. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. The commander was dangerous and highly manipulative, but I didn't think he'd try anything, not like those under his command. The transport began to move as he settled on the seat beside me.

"So-" he said, interlacing his fingers and leaning towards me ever so slightly. I leaned away as far as I could. "-what persuaded you to join that group of terrorists?" I didn't say anything, trying to remain distant. But he waited.

"Surely you want to explain yourself?"

I couldn't hold back anymore. I can never be silent for long.

"Your masters are tyrants," I said shortly.

"Hmmm," he murmured, wordlessly prompting me for more.

"The government killed my mom because she was out two minutes after curfew. Right outside our house." My heart squeezed. "Your soldier made me watch her bleed to death. I was five. And that's only the first instance of your cruelty I saw."

"But was it on the government's orders, or was it the soldier's individual decision?"

Wait. I'd never considered that before, because of course it was the government's orders, and there was no way it would just let soldiers roam free, doing whatever they wanted. Except there was totally a way. If the government said, do whatever you want, and trained its soldiers to be brutal monsters, it washed its hands of all responsibility for the soldiers' actions, while keeping absolute control over the populace. How did I not think of this before? I felt stupid now. God, I hated this man.

"We're told there are severe consequences. No one elaborates on what they are. I... I don't know," I finally admitted. "Soldiers do pretty much whatever they want." With those words, I threw a pointed glare at Gental. We had a brief staring contest. I won.

"That seems like a weak reason to join the terrorists, yes?"

"Rebellion."

"But why rebel?" he asked, spreading his hands as if to embrace the world. "We live in beautiful cities, part of a beautiful world. And the government is the reason for that."

I barked a harsh laugh. "Not all cities are beautiful, Commander."

"Every city under Union law is. The shantytowns are populated by miscreants and outlaws, thinking themselves clever to hide from the government."

"Maybe they are hiding because the government is broken," I said vehemently.

"Join us and fix it, then."

I laughed, this time with pure amusement.

"That's a hard no," I said.

"What you are about to go through is very unpleasant," he warned. "And it will only lead to the same result. You could avoid all that. I don't want to see your fire snuffed out."

He sounded like he genuinely cared, and I had to remind myself it was all tricks. All government agents are highly trained in psychological warfare, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Commander Teague knew the subject better than anyone. I turned away, staring at the vehicle's siding. I tried to find a flaw in the insulation, but of course it was perfectly intact. No escape.

"So be it," he sighed. "You'll join us soon enough."