Hearts of War [Being rewritten]

Prisoner

Well, it could've been worse...

Nick quietly thought to himself laid with his head resting on his hands on the bed in the cell he was thrown in. It'd been a good five hours since him and Amelia were picked up from the surface of Xena 5. They didn't exchange any words during the trip up to the Militia carrier but a few reassuring glances from the Militia Pilot was quick to eliminate any tension forming inside him. The last time he saw her was when they had disembarked the dropship after it docked in the carrier's hangar. She walked out - well, limped out - of the dropship with some assistance from her friends and began ordering people around. Apparently Amelia is some sort of officer, a high ranking one to be exact.

Now, he was preparing himself for the upcoming interrogation, which he knew was coming one way or another. Yes, he had given in to Amelia's persistence and was now siding with the Militia. But it still wasn't an easy thing to think about. One reason is that he is basically going against everything he was taught since birth and another is that he doesn't even know if the Militia would even take in someone like him. After all, he led a unit who's purpose was special operations, notably hunting down Militia. So basically, he was unpopular with the Militia. Very unpopular.

The last thing he heard from her was when he told the two grunts guarding him to 'take good care of him'. Nick knew that that command has multiple intentions but he couldn't tell what she really meant when she said it since she had her full uniform and helmet which rendered her unreadable, so the IMC Pilot found himself feeling rather nervous. However, due to his interactions with her during their time together on the planet's surface, he concluded that he can give her a pretty large chunk of his trust. And right now, she's pretty much the only person who is on that level of his trust. But he'd learn that he was right to trust her since, aside from a not-so-friendly shove by the grunts as they locked him in the cell, he was unharmed. And besides, Nick had a good feeling regarding Amelia. Let's just hope that it stays that way.

The door of his cell and Nick instinctively reacted to by straightening up from his previous laying position to a sitting one. An armed rifleman entered the room and gestured to the wall.

"Get up and against the wall," The grunt ordered sharply

Nick huffed and quietly complied. He stood up from the bed and planted himself against the wall opposite of him and put his hands behind his back. The rifleman approached carefully while his buddy stood by the door, keeping the grip on his Flatline tight, before taking position behind him and cuffing his hands, not being the slightest bit gentle as he did so. The rifleman then pulled him from the wall and shoved him out of the room and into the hallway.

"Move it!" The grunt demanded as he pushed the Pilot with his rifle.

"Yeah, yeah, jeez," Nick muttered.

They led him to a room at the end of the hallway. It was a pretty small room, it had a single table with two chairs on either side, a single ceiling light which illuminated the room, and a mirror, which is obviously one-way, on the right side of the room from where he entered. They set him down on the chair facing the door, then shackled him to the table before leaving him alone again.

The Pilot examined his surroundings before staring at the one-way window and made a few guesses as to who might be watching. They may send in Amelia, and he hopes that they send in Amelia because she's most definitely going to be the most tolerable candidate, although there is also a good chance that they send in someone else, someone not so tolerable. But, regardless of who walks through that door, he will be ready.

Amelia...

That name has been echoing in his brain for a couple of hours now. But why though, had she gotten in his head somehow? Well, she is something else. Nick had seen countless female Pilots, who were both pretty and badass, who had crossed his path during his whole career. But none of their faces, much less their names, had stuck onto his mind this long before.