Warhawk's Amnesty - Ch. 1 - One More Week - Final (Patreon)

It wasn’t the flexing of the steel walls, the subtle hum of the electrified barrier, or the flickering LED light in his cell that caused Seb to awaken. It was the sickening smell like that of burned, soiled diapers. The heavy stench coated his nostrils as if coated in a thick sludge. He knew the distinct smell of a foobidiga. Hell, the entire galaxy knew that smell.

While trying to figure out who he had pissed off to get bunked with the creature, Seb jerked up and grabbed his pillow. He ripped out pieces of cotton before rolling them tight and shoving them up his nose. He slowly opened his mouth, ensuring the seals in his nostrils were tight enough that he would not have to vomit in the corner toilet. After a few quick breaths, he let out a sigh before stretching his back.

The metal block the size of a doorframe bolted onto his cell wall was a far cry from comfortable. Seb was at least appreciative of his down blanket; if it weren’t for that, he was certain he would have frozen to death by now.

“One more week,” Seb muttered. “Just gotta make it one more week.”

After rubbing his fists in his eyes, cleaning out the night’s sleep, Seb looked through his cell’s barrier. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but the red hue being cast from the common area’s emergency lights indicated he was up earlier than he wanted to be. One issue with being locked in a cell with no window was that the days blurred together. If it wasn’t for his daily routine, he would have no way of determining the date of his freedom, and he most certainly didn’t trust Williams Correctional Corp to tell him of his release date.

The thought of spending one more second in a cell put him on edge, compounded by the flicking LED above. Seb grabbed his blanket and threw it over his head as he lay back down on his bed. His mind raced over the various ‘what if’ scenarios if the correctional officers didn’t let him out on his release day. How much longer could he theoretically last before he snapped? He could feel his heart throbbing in his head as his anxiety built with every new question.

It’s all right, everything is going to be all right, Seb told himself, taking in a deep breath. He concentrated on his breathing and recited trigonometric identities in his head, something that busied his mind while also recalling back to simpler, happier times. One more week, he recited. Close your eyes, and you’ll be that much closer.

Just as he was about to drift back into a deep slumber, he felt a small drop hit his head. Unsure if his mind was playing games on him, he lay still, his body hypersensitive to any movement. When he felt the drop on the side of his head again, he dragged down his blanket and looked up. His curiosity was met with a drop of slime hitting him square in the forehead.

Even with the dim, red hue cast throughout the room, Seb could see the viscous liquid pooling in the center of the bed above him. He growled, grabbed a fist of his covers, and scraped it along his face before jumping up from his bed. He squinted at his cellmate’s body, finding the source of the ooze along the creature’s face-tentacles that flapped aimlessly with each deep breath.

“Wake up, you asshole!” Seb shouted, banging on the mounted bed. “You’re drooling your disgusting mucus all over me!” The reaction of the brindle-skinned creature was immediate, pushing itself against the wall as it shouted sounds that mimicked someone plunging a toilet. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying, and I don’t give a shit. We may be in transit, but top bunk pays respect to bottom bunk. Now clean your mess up!”

The creature’s solid-blue eyes made it difficult to see where its focus was. It hesitated before grabbing its blanket and mopping up the slush that was now falling in a steady stream onto his bunk. The creature’s fluids were so thick that its feeble attempt to mop up its secretions just pushed more of the slime onto Seb’s bed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seb said, shaking his head. “Just stop. You’re making it worse.” The three-fingered creature let out a grunt as it continued pushing along its bed. Seb held up both hands and shouted, “Stop, dammit!” The creature froze and watched Seb pick up his blanket from the ground. Loud clicks echoed throughout the main corridor as the primary lights switched on, illuminating the interior from a blood-red to a soft-white light.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” Seb said, walking up the edge to his cell’s barrier. He bounced on the tip of his shoes while he waited for his cell to open. “Get me the fuck out of here.” As soon as the barrier dropped, he began sprinting. As he weaved in between the dozens of prisoners eager to stretch their limbs, they all shouted at him with insults and cursing. Each staircase he jumped down was one more floor to his eventual goal: the showers. He was careful where to place his grip along the metal railing. The painted rust was prime for leaving souvenirs that would have required a trip to medical.

After clearing the fourth stairwell, his heart sank. The line for the shower room was already five cells long. Undeterred, Seb slid to a halt in front of the officer posted at the entrance to the showers. Their shielded helmets and gray-and-blue body armor made it difficult to tell the difference between each guard. Seb’s eyes shot down at the nametag of the officer standing in front of him before speaking up.

“Officer Thompson, man am I glad to see you’re on shift today. You’ve got to let me into the showers. That foobidiga you all put in my cell covered me in something awful while I was sleeping.” He watched as the officer raised his arm and pressed a button on his Wrist-mounted, Intergalactic Communication Interface. The hologram was transparent, allowing Seb to see the scanner roll through the entire prisoner list before settling on his file.

The officer’s voice was high-pitched and modulated through his helmet’s speaker. “Inmate 5313, you know the rules. It’s first come, first serve. Now get in the back of the line.”

A shrill voice spoke up behind them. “Officer, I think I speak for everyone in line. Let him go ahead of us.” Seb and the officer turned to see the entire line standing back from the doorway, holding their noses and mouths with their hands. A murmur of agreement rolled through the crowd, silenced by the spray of the inora’s vomit that matched its yellow body as it tried to hold back its intestinal juices with its four arms. Like a composer starting a symphony, once the first prisoner started, so did the rest of them. The gray metal floor was covered in a multicolored river of puke.

The officer turned to Seb and pointed over his shoulder. “All right, get your ass in there and make it quick. As for the rest of you,” he said, turning to face the conga line of spew, “none of you are leaving this line until you clean this mess up.”

Seb was already in the shower room by the time the officer finished his speech. He started undressing before reaching an open shower station, unzipping his white jumpsuit and slipping off his laceless shoes. Reaching the steel bench that sat between the dozen showers, Seb took his time undressing himself. He did his best to not get his jumpsuit wet because the last thing he wanted to do was to shower and then put on wet clothes. Thankful that the foobidiga’s slime didn’t get on his clothes, he folded his jumpsuit into a tight square before resting it on the top of his shoes.

Even though the waist-high barriers between each station provided some privacy, it was the thick, brown steam from the chemical wash that helped keep the visibility to a minimum. When Seb stepped underneath the spout, a holographic timer appeared in front of him that read 05:00.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Seb whispered, flexing his back at the spray of liquid. He wasn’t sure if it was the temperature or whatever chemical they put in the water that caused it to burn. He was just thankful it didn’t last long. The five minutes he got every morning was his favorite part of the day. The steam and loud pressure of the water helped drown out everything around him. If he thought hard enough, it didn’t feel like he was locked up on a prison barge, making his way to wherever he’d end up. He wasn’t told where he was going, just that they were transferring him to another facility where they would process his release.

Ten whole years, Seb thought to himself. It feels like a lifetime ago. A feeling of déjà vu surprised him, sending a prickling sensation down his entire body. It was when he thought about how he ended up here, the moment of his arrest, and how, once again, he only had one more week. Everything faded around him as his mind transported him back to that consequential night.

It was a week until his graduation from Lichtenstein University, where he was finishing up his degree in aerospace engineering technology. Without any grants, scholarships, or funding, the only option the starry-eyed dreamer had to complete his education was through loans, and LU was not cheap. The housing costs alone were more than the young man could afford working his late-night shifts at the Guzzle N Go.

The debt that surrounded him was a mountain left to climb even after six years of university. After finishing his undergrad, he prolonged his repayment requirements for another two years. He went for a master’s program, hoping to earn a research grant based on one of his engine designs. Yet the decision only delayed the inevitable, and it put him further into the hole than he was already in.

His desperation didn’t go unnoticed. He remembered when the Merovingian shuttle landed in front of his place of employment. He watched in astonishment as three red skinned, horned guards exited the craft, followed by one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her hip-slit and white dress sparkled in the moonlight, clashing against her red scales. Her height was intimidating, flexing the craft downward as she disembarked. The onigaram guards she traveled with looked small, comparatively, one of the few occasions where that would be true.

He remembered the look in her vertically slit eyes as she stared back at him, petrifying him completely in her gaze. He knew at that moment that she would be trouble for him, but there was something about her that compelled him to follow. Looking back, it could have easily been a spell, but at the time, he felt like a passenger in his body.

He agreed without hesitation or context given, just the opportunity to learn more about an “offer” she had for him. They barely spoke on the shuttle ride except for the times she offered him wine he was certain cost thousands of credits. It wasn’t until they arrived at the Merovingian headquarters that he realized just how in over his head he was.

It was solidified over the rooftop dinner when his purveyor treated him to the best wakashimi venison he had ever tasted and paired it with a bottle of an orlindrian spirit he didn’t now remember the name of. The tri-horned woman sitting across from him introduced herself as Zara Saladonus, Vice President of Acquisitions. He dropped his cutlery at the sound of the last name, recognizing it as one of the ten sepix family names and the owners of Merovingian, along with many other prominent corporations throughout the galaxy.

When Seb pressed why Zara brought him there, she twisted his question into an opportunity for a tour. She led him to their R&D facilities in the basement, where several engineers demonstrated their latest solarized gas turbine engines that would be deployed in next year’s shuttles. Her tone and implications were like that of a siren subtly promising the world that would secretly lead to his ruin.

After visiting R&D, Zara led him to the housing facilities. She explained that their critical staff were provided three-bedroom apartments as part of their compensation packages. They were furnished in an ultra-modern style, included robotic staff on hand, and boasted a suite of automated features. A realization came to him later that this was all to minimize them from going anywhere, like mice trapped in a cage.

However, it was there that Zara presented him with her offer. A job waiting for him, a full compensation package with galaxy-class benefits, and a bonus that would wipe out his tuition immediately. All it required was a bit of effort on his side. A job that no one else could do given the required clearance or would do unless completely naïve.

Because the university maintained the leading aerospace programs, companies poured billions of credits into its research facilities. Starspirit Inc., the leading luxury shuttle company, was one such company. They also happened to be Merovingian’s largest competitor in United Human Coalition-owned space. The rumor was that they were set to release a new model that would crush all other competition. This news, combined with other setbacks at Merovingian, caused them to think outside the box, and that’s where Seb came in.

Given the number of government contracts and corporate research being performed on campus, each testing facility was provided with its own internal network separated by an air-gap from anything public. Seb’s specialized research gave him entrance into the facility, which would allow him to make his way to the Starspirit section. All he needed to do was to plug in a device on their network, and their team would take care of the rest.

Zara’s affection quickly squashed any reservations he had. Even though he wished he could go back in time and tell himself not to take the deal, he never regretted the night he shared with her. Even through the multiple partners he had been with up to that point in his life, the hours spent in bed with the sepix princess were memories he recalled in his darkest days of imprisonment. They helped him get through the worst of it.

After that night, everything moved so fast that it seemed like a blur, but too long for him to want to forget it ever happened. The excitement he felt making his way through security and plugging in the device, the terror he felt being surrounded by dozens of rifles all pointed at him, and the endless depression he felt during his first night in prison.

The incessant beeping snapped Seb back to reality. He looked up to see the timer flashing in his face. He clenched his fists, angry at the tidal wave of emotion that had returned, feelings he had not felt in years. He was no longer that man. He was now a jagged rock chipped from smooth stone by ten years of incarceration.

“Just one more fucking week,” Seb whispered. He took in a deep breath and pinched each nostril before blowing out the cotton in his nose. The stench of the foobidiga was no longer there, replaced with a sharp smell that was like a mixture of iodine and bleach.

With that problem taken care of, Seb turned around and walked to the opposite side of the shower room where the air dryers were. They were the same cube-shaped stations as the showers, except instead of a showerhead and a drain, there was a vent in the ceiling above and a metal grate with a sliding hatch on the floor.

When Seb pressed the button on the hologram panel, he quickly brought his hands down around his groin. It was a lesson he learned the hard way the first time he had used a similar device. The force of the air pressure pressing his junk into his stomach was something he never wished to experience again. The thought alone made him wince. Once the station activated, a barrier surrounded the wall, and the hatch pulled back, sending a large gust of air upward.

From what he’d read, given the need to conserve water during space travel, many ships were adopting similar systems, pulling pressure from other internal systems before venting them off into space. He was certain this was about as safe as the chemicals they used to show with. Completely dry, Seb strolled his way back to the bench where he’d left his clothes. He took his time getting dressed, shoving the suit into his nose to ensure there was no lingering smell from his cellmate. Certain he was fine, he suited back up before heading into the common area.

Seeing the buckets and mops issued to the prisoners who stood in line earlier, Seb scurried past the guards and headed toward the cafeteria. With the cellblock opened, the noise was almost deafening. Five hundred prisoners smashed together in one of the five blocks echoed inside the interior hall like a concert of debauchery. Shouts of disagreements emanated from the nearby card games, laughter exuded along the many balconies as friends mingled, and grunts discharged from those who began their morning workouts.

In front of the cafeteria sat long tables and benches. A shout of his name issued from one of the nearby tables pulled his attention. The old shelbek appeared harmless, save for his daggerlike beak that created the front of his reptilian-like face and for the number of scars across his ancient body. His hardened shell acted like front and back plate armor, protecting his core from any unforeseen threat. He wasn’t a friend, nor did Seb trust the man. He was just a fellow passenger along the same journey who provided stable conversation and was neutral enough to not arouse suspicion from any of the local gangs.

“Good morning, Seb. Sleep well?” the reptilian man asked, smiling.

“Hey, Rabeero,” Seb said, sitting opposite him. “No, as a matter of fact, I think one of the guards has it out for me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“They bunked me with a foobidiga.”

With surprising reflexes, Rabeero brought his hand over his nostrils. “Well, I think this conversation might be over. I don’t feel like losing my lunch.”

“Thanks for the love, you selfish old bastard,” Seb said, chuckling. “Don’t sweat it. I hit the showers this morning.”

Rabeero slowly lowered his hand before extending his unnaturally long neck toward Seb. He took a quick whiff before resuming his previous posture. “I don’t smell anything, but that doesn’t mean another species can’t. You’re lucky.”

“Lucky is far from it. I’m just trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to survive until we make it to wherever the fuck we’re going.”

“You could always ask to be put in the fridge. It might be better than being bunked with a foobidiga.”

Rabeero’s chuckles quickly got under Seb’s skin. “Yeah, laugh it up, but I am not going to volunteer getting put in the fridge.” Seb shuddered at the thought. “The nightmares are worse. At least I could get over the smell.”

“That’s true, but it might be longer than you think.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“No reason.”

Seb slammed his fist on the table, catching glances from passersby. “If you have information about where we’re going, you better tell me. I’ve only got one more week till release.”

“Ano.”

“What?”

“We’re going to Ano.”

Seb looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear before leaning in as he whispered, “Where did you hear that?”

“I’ve got my sources.”

“Sources, my ass.” Seb scoffed. “Why the fuck would they be sending us to a level nine supermax?”

“No idea,” Rabeero said, shrugging. “But I trust my source.”

“You need to get better sources, then. I was told we were en route to a staging facility where they were going to disperse all twenty-five hundred of us.”

“That’s what everyone was told, but I can assure you it’s inaccurate. You should already know it is. We left Marcum Penitentiary weeks ago. The closest staging facility to Marcus is Erriani Station. The cosmic lane between the two points is only a few weeks tops, and unless they’ve been dropping out of FTL while I’ve been asleep, we haven’t stopped since we left.”

Seb slumped his head into his hands as he listened to the shelbek’s words. He counted back the days, searching for any combination of problems with their jump or separate route between Marcum and Erriani that would have accounted for the delay. He found none. It also corroborated with the increased ratio of guards to prisoners in each cell block, along with their heavily armed presence.

“I can tell by that look in your eyes you’re realizing I’m telling the truth,” Rabeero said with a smug smile.

“Well, there’s one way to find out for sure,” Seb replied, pushing himself up from the bench. He turned and stomped his way to the three nearest guards, ignoring Rabeero’s shouting protest. The guards stopped in the middle of their laughter when one of them noticed Seb’s approach.

“Hey, badge,” Seb began, “where is it that we’re going?”

The three guards all shook their heads before the middle one spoke up. “Not this shit again. You all have been told multiple times that we’re going to a staging facility.”

“Huh,” Seb said, tapping his finger on his chin. “Funny you should say that. Unless it’s the chemicals you pump in our water or the fumes from the air dryer, I could have sworn Erriani Station was the closest staging facility next to Marcum, but if that was our destination, we would have been there twice by now.”

The guards turned and looked at each other before the one in the middle took a step forward, pulling out their stun baton and pointing it at Seb. “If I were you, inmate, I’d keep that curious mind of yours from wandering too far. You might just lose it along the way.”

“Point taken,” Seb said, raising his hands. “You all have yourselves a nice day.” As quickly as he came, Seb turned around and made his way back over to the bench across from Rabeero.

“It looks like they didn’t like your questions,” Rabeero said.

“Yeah, they got super defensive, and I didn’t even bring up anything about Ano.”

Rabeero groaned as he stood from the bench, grabbing his food tray as he leaned in. “No, they really didn’t like your questions.” As the shelbek pulled away, Seb could hear the marching boots approaching him from behind.

“Inmate 5313, stand up and place your hands behind your back!” a commanding, feminine voice shouted from behind.

Seb turned to look over his shoulder. Five guards surrounded his back, each with their stun batons drawn. He hung his head, rolling his thumbs together as he thought about his next move. He couldn’t help but laugh at the situation he’d put himself in. You’re so fucking stupid sometimes. You just had to open your big fucking mouth. All you had was one more week.

“Inmate 5313, stand up and place your hands behind your back!” the guard repeated.

Seb’s mind shifted away from its own self-destruction. One more week? They were never going to let me leave this wretched place. He let out a sigh. Let’s just see where this goes. In one fluid motion, Seb pushed himself up from the bench and placed his hands behind his back. He felt the tight clasp of the electronic restraints before being yanked around by his arm. All eyes were on him while the guards marched him out of the dense common area.

They paraded their way back up to the fifth level before stopping at a sealed, mechanical door. Seb watched as one guard waved through the window before the door shot up into the ceiling, allowing everyone to pass through. He had never been on this part of the ship before but was familiar with prison barge layouts.

Three civilians manned the guard station, giving them full control over the security measures for their block. Dozens of holograms hovered across a ten-foot wall, showing the multiple cameras they had positioned throughout the block. The badges sitting in the guard station were unarmored, resting nonchalantly as they sipped on their beverages of choice.

As they continued down the corridor, they passed several metal doors with thin windows that Seb assumed were interrogation rooms, thanks to their wall-mounted tables and stools. The leading guard’s WICI activated the next few doors, opening only when the guard hovered her wrist-mounted device in front of a lock, shunting the metal doors open. A weighted feeling crept into Seb’s gut as the temperature shifted in the next corridor, causing his breath to become visible.

“Where are you taking me?” Seb demanded.

“Eyes forward!” the guard behind him shouted before shoving him in the back.

“All I asked is where we’re going, and you’re going to throw me into the fridge?” Several of the guards’ laughter all but confirmed his eventual destination. “Fuck this,” he muttered before kicking the guard in front of him in the back of his leg. The guard let out a cry, dropping to his knee, only to be silenced by Seb’s follow-up kick to the side of his helmet, the sounds of cracking plastic echoing throughout the hall interior.

He knew what was coming next when he heard the electric charge of the batons. The fight was always going to be a losing battle, but if he was going to be thrown in the fridge, he wasn’t going to do it lying down. He’d been hit with the batons before, but never three at a time. His entire body locked up, preventing him from being able to move. It was like every atom in his body was being shaken as hard and as fast as possible, yet he couldn’t move. His heart raced with each shock, covering him in a cold sweat instantaneously.

With a crashing thud, there was nothing he could do. A poignant smell of his burning flesh filled his nose, and he convulsed. His body was already numb from the pain, only jerking with each kick and shock from the guards’ frustrations. It wasn’t until the kicks into his face started that his mind slipped into a daze, until his assaulters grew tired.

With a stream of blood dripping from his swollen face, his sight faded in and out while the guards dragged him into the cryo room. Hundreds of pill-shaped capsules lined the walls, with the frozen faces of lifeless prisoners overlooking them through their transparent windows. In the middle of the room awaited the technician standing over an open capsule, awaiting him like a specter of the afterlife, ready to take him to the dark places of his mind that welcomed him.

To the technician’s displeasure, the guards threw Seb into the capsule. They removed the electronic binders from his wrists before pulling his arms down to his side. The technician secured his arms, legs, and head to the back of the pod with the fabric restraints, a necessary requirement once they suspended him with the others.

With three sequential clicks, the top of the capsule locked in place. Seb’s anger gave way to acceptance, causing a bloody grin to form over his face. It’s funny how quickly life changes. One more week left until your freedom, and now you’re looking at a few more years minimum. Oh well.

The sound of mechanical grinding preceded the gravitational shift of him being pulled up into the air. The cool, pressurized air being filtered throughout the capsule made it difficult to see the head-sized window, but he could see the white shade of the technician standing at the console.

This is it, Seb thought to himself. Next comes the gas. Inmate 5313 closed his eyes and did something he had never done before. He prayed to all the various gods and goddesses throughout the known galaxy for happy dreams.

His prayers were answered with a single gunshot.