An Unexpected Proposition

Seth woke up to a very loud, very persistent ringing in his ears. It wasn't the morning bell... Maybe it was one of his squad mates playing a cruel joke on him. He was so tired that he almost didn't care about that incessant noise. Almost.

The exhausted soldier finally managed to pry his eyes open. When he did, he blinked in the bright light that assaulted them. He tried to raise one of his arms to shield his eyes. The arm responded sluggishly, as if it had weights attached to it. Seth managed to raise himself up into a sitting position, then looked around. Everything that had happened since his base had been raided flooded back. That meant he was still a Freelancer prisoner.

He was in a bright, white painted room with beds lining the walls. The beds, all of them identical, had clean white sheets covering them. There were only two other full beds in the room, and they were both to Seth's left. When he leaned over to look at his neighbors, he almost fell out of the bed in shock.

The two men occupying those beds were the Freelancers that had interrogated him. All Seth could see of his former interrogators were their faces and arms. The rest was covered by either bandages or bedsheets. Both were bruised heavily on their faces and one, the door guard named Smith, looked as if his nose had been broken badly. The bruises didn't stop at their faces. There was a heavy coating of them on their arms and both looked like several fingers had been stomped enthusiastically. What had happened to them?

While he was pondering the fate of the Freelancers, two people walked into the room speaking in raised voices. One was a stranger, but the other he recognized instantly as Gloria.

“I can't understand why you haven't already patched them up! If you can break their bones then you can certainly fix them. Why did you have to drag me halfway across the station when you are perfectly competent?” The Freelancer he didn't recognize stopped and stared when he saw the state of Seth's former guards. “Holy Jesus, Gloria! What the Hell did you do?”

“I beat them with my battle rifle.” Gloria answered him with a calm collected voice. She didn't seem the least bit regretful of her actions.

“For God's sake, WHY?!” The other Freelancer had actually edged away from Gloria just a little.

“Because, Fletcher, they crossed a line and made me mad. They were torturing my team's prisoner without Nicholai's permission. Imagine what would have happened if he'd taken it upon himself to punish them. At least I let them live when I was done.” While she had been talking, she'd noticed that Seth had woken up. Gloria acknowledged him with a nod, then continued her conversation with Fletcher as he examined the injured guards.

Seth started thinking about what that other Freelancer, Maria, had said to him on the ship. Was Gloria really attached to him? Was that why she'd taken him prisoner and then kept Nicholai from killing him? Had she really beaten two guards to bloody pulps because she was attached? Some of these Freelancers were tough characters.

Gloria finished talking to her fellow medic and went over to Seth. She had just sat down and started to say something when two more Freelancers walked through the door. Again, Seth only recognized one. Nicholai and another, older, dark skinned Freelancer were arguing heatedly.

Seth stared. He couldn't help it. The young soldier had only seen pictures of people with skin that color. Actually, he'd only seen pictures of pictures. The UIF had expelled all of the darker skinned people in the Great Racial Conflict over 300 years ago (*). This was his first encounter with a black man.

“Gloria's actions were not out of line!” Nicholai's accent made it hard to understand some of what he said. “Those guards were overstepping their jurisdiction by torturing our prisoner without permission. Some of us have actually read the Freelancer Code Book.”

“Nicholai, don't start this with me, not now. Your team members can't go around beating other Freelancers just because they got mad at them. Gloria is going to have face punishment for her actions.” The old man heaved an angry sigh and shot a hateful look at Gloria. Gloria stood, prepared to approach the base commander. Nicholai started speaking before she could defend her actions.

“She was following orders. I told her to find our prisoner and when she reported to me that he was under torture, I told her to carry out the guards' punishment. If there is anyone to blame, it is me.” Nicholai was standing at attention: back straight, chin out, and arms linked behind his back.

“You and I both know thats a flat out lie.” The old black man was staring Nicholai down, trying to force the truth out of him.

“Prove it.” Nicholai still stood at attention, the only difference was he was looking down meeting the old one's gaze. “Sir.” He added.

The old man let loose another long, angry sigh. “D****t, Nicholai, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. If anyone else was in command, your a*s would have been kicked out years ago. Right, you and your team will be confined to the base for one week. Plus, however long it takes you to find a replacement medic for the one you lost. You're getting off lightly with that one.”

“Fair enough.” Nicholai nodded his head as he said this, still standing sharply at attention.

When the old man was gone Gloria shook her head and gave Nicholai an angry look. “You just love to push Commander Thomas's buttons, don't you? He could have put you in an airlock and shot you out into space for disrespecting him like that. You're lucky that he likes you.”

“Your welcome.” The team leader said, raising his eyebrows at her.

“I didn't need your help. I could take any punishment he gave me. Keep your nose out of my business.” As she spoke, she crossed her arms and gave him a look that said 'I will set you ablaze right now'. “You didn't have to stick your neck out for me.”

“It was my business. You are in my squad, and therefore, you are my responsibility. Any trouble you get in is trouble I am in as well. Get used to it.” Nicholai was pretty good at ending arguments quickly and decisively.

Gloria rolled her eyes and looked away. The angry Freelancer woman heaved a heavy sigh and sat back down next to Seth.

“So, how was the chamber?” She acted as if asking someone how going through a torture chamber felt was a normal thing that she did all the time.

Seth hesitated. How was he supposed to answer a question like that? “Uh.... It was bad...” He shrugged.

Gloria laughed. “We all go through a chamber at least once. Trust me, there are worse ones out there. Take the UIF model, for example. Its made to torture you slowly to death. There haven't been any people to survive a full round in it. Nicholai went through one for a little while once, didn't you?” She turned to her commanding officer as she spoke the last sentence.

“Yes. It was as bad as taking a hollowpoint to the chest.” He had a very small smirk on his face as he talked. It was like he thought pain was funny...

Seth noticed Gloria flinch at the mention of a 'hollowpoint', so he asked, 'Whats that?”

Nicholai chuckled once, and said,” Remind me and I'll show you the scars some time.”

Gloria shook her head. “No you won't. I don't think anyone needs to see that.” She turned to Seth. “A hollowpoint is very small, incredibly destructive bullet. They're made to be instant kills. They hit, then explode. None of the medics at this station, or anywhere else for that matter, are quite sure how he survived two to the chest.”

Seth looked at Nicholai again, wondering just how much it took to be a Freelancer.

“Did you need to talk to Seth?” Nicholai asked Gloria.

“Not really.” The vicious Freelancer stood and left the room. Her commanding officer stayed behind.

The Freelancer seemed smaller without his armor. He was still a big man, at least six feet tall, and he was definitely well muscled, but he didn't seem nearly as frightening outside of his big armor suit. “You know, there is an open position in our squad. We recently... lost a medic. If I clear it with command, I think you might be able to fill the gap. It will take too long to find someone from somewhere else. I'm going to make you a Freelancer.” Again, the Freelancer's accent made it a little difficult to understand everything he said. Seth almost choked when he heard the last sentence.

“Make me a Freelancer? WHY?!” The young soldiers eyes widened and he spluttered a little as he spoke.

“We have an opening in our team.” Nicholai spoke as if his reasoning was perfectly, painfully, obvious.

“But... But, I'm a prisoner! I'm from an enemy ARMY! Why would you want me to join your team?” Seth still couldn't believe the Freelancer was actually asking him to be a medic on his team.

“I hate to repeat myself. I told you why I want you on the team. Do you accept?” The Freelancer's tone made it very clear that he was losing patience.

Seth quickly thought over his options. Stay a prisoner, probably be tortured to death, and face Nicholai's wrath for refusing to join his group. Okay, that was option one. Option two: Say yes and go on dangerous missions with a bunch of bloodthirsty Freelancers and probably get killed by people from his own empire. Why was life so complicated?

“Well?” The Freelancer's deep voice was filled with impatience. Nicholai's eyes were narrowed and he looked rather unhappy that Seth was taking so long to answer.

“Okay, yeah I'll join.” Seth had just made a life changing decision. He wondered if he'd regret it one day.

Nicholai gave him a cruel grin that twisted the scars on his face. The result was demonic in almost every aspect. As it turns out, Freelancers don't need their armor to be terrifying. “Right, you stay here, I'll go get the paperwork.”

Seth could only nod as his new commanding officer walked away without a backward glance.

* I go into more detail about this in another story. Read that and you'll probably get why Seth is so surprised.