Prisoner's Dilemma

Chapter 2

It was like we never existed back in the mainland once we were shipped out. The elders announced our fate to the general public, then everyone went about their daily lives.
Everyone was happier, not having to worry about being drafted for war, not having to worry about family members who'd been called into service. The criminals are fighting our for us. That's all anyone worried about now.
I scanned the dark, damp room that held the six of us. "So..." Muttered one of the men next to me, "Anyone worried about lunch or..." The room was silent again, as if he never spoke in the first place. "Just me then?"
The man on the other side of me exhaled hard through his nose, causing me to jump a bit. "What do you guys think they're keeping us for?" He asked, once again filling the cramped space with his voice. "Maybe they're offering us up to the gods for sacrifice."
"Lincoln can't you see that this is not the time?" Asked the man sitting in the corner with his hands on his knees. "Fuck's sake Paul, I'm only trying to liven it up in here "
"Well stop. Your whole act is getting old." Lincoln spoke no more after the brief conversation between him and Paul.
Looking at the people around me, I couldn't help but wonder what brought these men here (for instance, Paul and Lincoln both had Australian accents, why were they in Atlas?) and for that matter, why it was taking so long for anything to happen.
As if someone outside had heard my question, the door swung open, causing light to fill the room, blinding me temporarily. "As you know," said a familiar voice, "You are all here because you chose military over life imprisonment."
"That's what you meant when you said jail or military?" Lincoln asked, feigning shock, "Mate, I thought you were asking where I thought criminals belonged. Really then, I shouldn't be here."
"And why is that?"
"I've got a lunch date with your mum, then we were gonna shag on your childhood bed."
The man- whom I now realized was the elder of destiny- cleared his throat, then stepped back, allowing a woman to enter the room. "Oh who's this lass then? Forget your mum, I'll shag her on your childhood bed." Wordlessly, she stepped forward and drove the butt of her rifle into his stomach. He doubled over immediately thereafter. The man moved closer to him, "Now what do you say?"
"I'm sorry..." Lincoln coughed before spitting on the ground in front of the elder, "I shouldn't have left your mum out like that. I'll shag 'em both in your childhood bed."
The woman hit him over the head, sending him to the ground."
"Now." He said, "I expect that the rest of you will display a proper set of manners."
Maybe in a different world, we'd have all said 'Yes sir' as a response. Maybe we'd have saluted if we were here of our own free will.
We said nothing, and no one moved from the places we'd already been in. Because this was the world we lived in, and there was no free will involved.
"Excellent. Sergeant Aimes will be your handler until you six are experienced enough to operate on your own."
"Our handler?" Paul asked dubiously.
"Yes, your handler. Or are you unable to understand a concept as simple as a handler? Is that the case Mister Simon?"
Paul's eyes narrowed, and just when I thought he was about to swing at the elder, the man next to me spoke up, "What are our directions, elder of destiny?" The elder smirked at Paul before turning to the man who spoke. "Your directions are not get determined, and shall not be determined by me. Sergeant Aimes' directions however, are to take a squadron of six criminals to wherever we need them, and you will go where she tells you to go. She will put guns in your hands and you will shoot who she tells you to shoot. Is that understood by all conscious parties?" Those of us who were still awake nodded in reply.
"Good." And with that, the elder turned around, sweeping his robe behind him before walking out. Sergeant Aimes lowered her gun and scanned us all, even Lincoln, who was still unconscious on the ground. "This is gonna take a lot of work..." She muttered before leaving, slamming the door shut behind her.