Chapter 2: Wolf of Sector Y

Wolf entered the otherwise deserted mechanical bay. He decided he couldn’t put the job off any longer. He approached the abused and forsaken Wolfen that had once belonged to Pigma Dengar. Wolfs men drove the fat oaf off after building Sargasso Space Station during the nearly ten years that had passed since the fall of Andross’ empire and his stab at reincarnation on Sauria.

He had never trusted Pigma, how could a man who had betrayed someone as great as James McCloud ever be loyal to what Wolf had been at the time they had met, a thin, pale, nineteen year old boy? He couldn’t find a reason, except maybe the special powers Andross had brought to his attention during the war, only at the time he couldn’t understand why he could, among other things, make defensive barriers and set objects on fire with just his mind, and hadn’t told a soul that he had these abilities.

He inspected the Wolfen. It had numerous dents and scratches on it, and about twelve lines on the fuselage that looked like Pigma had scratched them into the paint himself.

“Probably the number of times he pegged Peppy during the whole damn war,” he snarled to himself, angry Pigma would do something so stupid to his Wolfen. He meticulously filled in every imperfection on the ship’s surface, then went about replenishing the supply of blood red and black paint on the neglected ship. He spray brushed most of it, but there were some smaller lines he couldn’t help doing himself. The process took hours.

“So this is why the Wolfen threes took so long, perfectionist,” Leon hissed from behind him. He had entered about a half hour ago and had wandered around until he finally realized Wolf wasn’t going to talk to him. He had known Wolf long enough to know better than to think he had snuck up on him. Wolf grunted a response. He couldn’t be bothered to speak.

After the Wolfen was finished, Wolf went back to his room to finish the test for the recruits. You needed to write a written test and hit 80 or higher to even be considered, he had no intention of hiring an idiot, then you would have fifteen minutes to look over the Wolfen’s controls before a dogfight with him, and there was a catch. They were giving enough power for one charge laser, one thirty second Infinite Shield -an invention of Andross’, it could keep your ship safe from almost anything, including the explosion of a large star, but it didn’t last for very long and was a big power drain- and one smart bomb. Plus, Wolf’s ship would have full combat capabilities, not pretty under the best conditions. If they could do any damage at all, they were in

“There, that’s it,” he said to himself, leaning back from his desk in the study of his quarters after the last few questions were done. Everything was ready, all he could do now was wait.

XXX

“So… um… Sloan, is it?”

“Yes, Warden.”

“Now, you look like a smart girl. I don’t need to explain how much trouble you are in.”

“No, Warden.” Sloan knew better than to try and explain. The Warden smiled coldly, opening a file folder that must have been about her. Marshal Green stood behind her, looking disgusted at the very sight of the young girl. Sloan self-consciously pushed away a lock of poorly kept black hair from her face.

“Mr. Warren, I think we should impose the maximum punishment, one week in a solitary chamber!” Sloan wasn’t surprised. Solitary chambers were the main source of punishment at the institute, and besides, Marshals were bullies, and Marshal Green was one of the biggest bullies there was. She was an old komodo dragon, an imposing race to begin with, the heavy lines in her scaled skin made it look like she had more of it than her bone structure could support.

The Warden chuckled, it sounded good natured, but Sloan new better. When you looked into his eyes, there was no mercy, no kindness, almost no emotion at all. Just cold, calculated malice. There was no using the stupid treatment on him, he saw right through it.

“Now, now, Marshal, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think? I mean, it was only a half hour, right, Sloan?”

“Yes, Warden.”

“But I of course need to impose on you just how dangerous it is to be out unsupervised after curfew.”

Cuz’ you know we’ll run if you give us half a chance. “Yes, Warden.”

“So, starting tomorrow, you will serve three days in a solitary chamber, one day for every ten minutes over curfew you were. Do you find this reasonable?”

“Yes, Warden.” She didn’t find it reasonable at all, but she wasn’t near stupid enough to get her sentence lengthened by arguing. Green stepped up and took a strong hold on Sloan’s arm. It felt like she was cutting Sloan’s circulation off.

“Good. Marshal Green, please escort Sloan to her appropriate sleeping section. I believe dinner is over by now.” Sloan tried not to swear. She had missed the only meal of the day.

“Of course, Mr. Warren.” Sloan was then pulled out of the room. Green kept a tight hold on her all the way from the Warden’s office to the very bowels of the space station, where all the sleeping quarters for the children were located. She was pushed down the final hall before Green spoke.

“I trust even you are intelligent enough to find your way from here.”

“Yes Marshal, quite,” Sloan said, trying to stay polite. There was but one door in the hallway, so Sloan deduced that, yet again, she was being called stupid. Green hated every kid on the station, but had taken a special interest in Sloan. Probably because Sloan had kicked her when she was four.

The brightly lit, grey hall was guarded by six hired mercenaries. Two at the hall’s entrance, two halfway down, and another two at the door. They were there so none of the kids could slip out at night and do a little midnight star gazing. The guard gave her a disapproving look before opening the door. It was key-card locked for “safety”.

As soon as Sloan entered, she was hit by the noise and heat of several thousand bodies crammed into a single room, gigantic as it was. The room was huge, large enough to house them all, although things could get a little cozy. It had several levels to it, with a single walkway spiraling slowly downwards at an angle. It was filled with bunks, children of all ages, and both genders, little else. Some of the more crafty youths had rigged up a few makeshift tables. There were about ten guards on every level, watching closely for and kind of offence to occur so they could spill some blood. One guard stepped up to her and she instinctively held out her barcoded right arm. There was a momentary stab of pain before she was logged as being present and led down to her section.

“Don’t cause any trouble,” the wolf growled at her before going back to his station. They were all like him: male, muscular, pissed off wolves. Tired and in no mood to talk to anyone, she navigated her way among the throng to her bed, only to find it already occupied.

“Hello, Dolly,” chimed Luther, a crow Sloan had known for as long as she could remember. He had, purple-black feathers, smoldering red eyes, and multiple piercings. He was several years older than her and wore a lot of black. Sloan blamed her fashion sense on him, and she absolutely hated the nickname he had given her.

“Buddy, you have thirty seconds to explain why you are in the way of my sleep before I make good and sure they never find your body.”

“Chill, Dolly. I heard that you skipped out on curfew, and I didn’t see you in the mess hall, so I brought you this.” He produced from his jacket the still sealed dinner package that Sloan would have received if she had been there. It was a balanced meal and supposedly good for you, but it left a lot to be desired in the way of taste. Well, there was taste to it, but one sure sign the food had been tampered with in frightening ways was the toothpaste and sawdust flavour. She almost went for it, but stopped herself.

“And just what do you want in return?” she said, suspicious. Luther shrugged.

“I need a reason to help out a friend?”

“I know you better than that. You’d never do somethin’ for nothin’.”

“Hey, I’m outta’ here in, what, six months?”

“Stop boasting.”

“So I figured I better start learning how to be generous, but if you don’t want it…” he went to put it back in his jacket. Sloan grabbed it away from him. The kids on the station only got one meal a day, so besides the Aquas Blue she had drank, she had eaten nothing in over twenty-four hours.

“What do I owe you?”

“I’ll figure somthin’ out.” He began to slide off her bed, then added, “It’s not like you’ll be around for me to collect on it anyways.”

“And jus’ what’s that supposed to mean?” He gave her a look that said don’t be stupid, I know everything about you. She saw that look a lot.

“Come on, Dolly, you’ve never missed a curfew before, and besides, I know where you went last night. Either you’ve suddenly decided to get all tough and stupid, or you’ve got a fish on the hook. So, tell me, what is it?”

“Get away from me,” she snarled. Luther let out a cold little laugh, then got up off the bed and allowed her to crawl into it. “I’ve got no idea how you expect to get any sleep in this bustling metropolis of Slaveville,” he said as if he hadn’t just threatened Sloan’s chance for freedom. “I can hardly hear myself think.”

“Like you think all that often anyways.”

“Cram it, kid.” Luther didn’t jump into his own bunk, the one next to hers, but instead disappeared into the crowd, looking for a deck of cards to swipe or a nice, quiet place to get into a fist fight with someone. Sloan watched him go before ripping open the dinner package.

As she ate, she thought about how the next three days would be. Dark, cold, and fear filled. The only thing that brought her any kind of hope was what lay in store for her in exactly a week, as long as Luther didn’t get in the way first. How had he found her? How could he possibly have followed her without her noticing? It annoyed her how good he was at that, and she was also annoyed with herself at how glad she was that he was on her team. She never even noticed Brad, one of the Warden’s rats that had been listening to their entire conversation, scurry off.

 

Author's Note

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