Release

His world was pretty sparse. It had four gray walls, a gray ceiling and a floor of only slightly less somber gray. It had a bunk and a small metal thing that he sat on when nature called. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had arrived here. Every so often, burly forms in dark uniforms came to drag him out of his world. He had learned not to fight them after the first time. Not that he was a fighter, he had been... What had he been? He couldn't remember.

A flash of memory came and he saw white walls, smiling faces over red and white clothing and...

He tried to bring the faces back, but they slid from his grip like freshly caught fish. Wait a moment. How did he know what those were or what they felt like?

He could hear something new now. Someone talking nearby. Not anyone he knew.

"-and no, I don't like the orders either, but they came straight from the top." He stiffened as a voice he did know spoke up.

"With all due respect, sir..." The female voice was hard and angry. He knew her. He didn't know her name, but she hated him. She had incredibly dark skin, white hair and a temper that would have scared anyone. Every chance she got, she hurt him. "We let him out and they will snatch him up, put him to work again. You know it. We caught him once, they won't take the chance again."

"I know, Major." The listening man filed the 'Major' away. A name or a rank? Hard to say. "You are preaching to the choir here. But we don't have the resources to maintain this holding facility anymore. Too many mouths to feed as it is."

"So shoot him. Him and the others." The female snapped. "Or if you are worried about wasting bullets, I know several people who would love to get at him with blades."

"Major." The male voice said sharply. "Calm down. I know you are upset by him. I know why. With luck, the interrogations will have done permanent damage and no one will ever suffer his touch again."

Interrogations? The male jerked on the bunk as memory of a sinister looking man in a dark mask made to look like a skull appeared close to him. The man didn't speak, didn't move. Purplish energy wafted from him in ribbons though and the man on the bunk fought to keep from crying out as the memory faded into pain. He focused on the angry woman's voice as she spoke again.

"It is not enough, Sir." The woman's voice was cold and hard and the listener shivered in fear. Was she going to kill him? She had hurt him often enough. Many times he had woken back in this place in pain with bandages, once a cast on his arm. "If anyone deserves to die, he does. You know that, sir. You know what they will do. They will use him. Make him do it again."

"Our orders are clear, Major." The other said heavily. "We cannot hold this location. The enemy are pressing. Even as we advance in the city centers, they launch spoiling attacks elsewhere. There have been two encampments wiped out in their entirety within 200 kilometers. We are falling back to a more defensible position."

City... Center? The man's memory flashed again. Gleaming towers. Shining, clean streets willed with happy people. He had a sudden picture of a ground vehicle and... His memory vanished again.

"We cannot let him loose, sir." The woman called Major said fiercely. "I will shoot him myself if I have to."

"Major. We have our orders. Get on the transport." This was not a suggestion and it was answered by a growl. "Guards."

"Sir!" The woman said and then gasped. "Let go of me!"

"Guards, get her to the transport, but don't hurt her or let her hurt you. She isn't rational about him. God knows, she has a right to it."

A series of shouts and screams cut off and then the door to the man's world slammed open and a form in a gray uniform stood there glaring at him, hand on a holstered pistol of some kind. Some kind of soldier. The patch on the man's arm was familiar an X with some kind of words, maybe Latin? The man on the bunk couldn't say why or how he knew. The soldier did not speak, just glared. The man on the bunk stared at the door and the soldier before finding speech.

"Am I to be killed trying to escape then?" The man couldn't believe his voice sounded so bad. Hoarse, as if he had been screaming his voice raw for hours, days. How did he know what that sounded like?

"Stay or go." The cold hate in the soldier's voice cut the man on the bunk to the quick. "It is all the same to me. You are no longer my responsibility. But ah... word of advice. If I see you again after today, you die. If the Major sees you ever again, you will beg for death before she is done with you, you Advent scum."

The angry soldier turned and left, leaving the other to reel at the sheer hate in his words. But the words had stirred something else. A symbol, a red square atop a red vertical line with two horizontal blocks and four red blocks coming off downward it in varying sizes and shapes. A feeling of pain swept through him and no matter his efforts, he could not move as the pain tore through him and beyond, leaving him weak and dizzy. When he recovered, he looked and the door was still open.

He rose to his feet carefully and stumbled. He was very weak and he hurt in a number of places. The clothing he wore, if you could call it that, was thin and he wore nothing on his feet. The pants were loose and the shirt was as well. The colors were ghastly, the main shade was an orange that was too bright and at the same time, too drab. He was very confused and when he checked, parts of his body were sore. A quick exam of what he could see showed well healed scars on his arms and legs. He staggered to the door and peered out carefully. No sounds, no people. No nothing. A corridor he barely remembered showed going in two directions and he shook his head. Every time they dragged him out, they took him to the left, so he eased out to the right.

He was expecting something to happen, but nothing did. Then he heard it. A soft crying was coming from somewhere nearby. It sounded familiar. But where did he know the voice from? Something in the sobs called out to him. Someone was in pain and it wasn't him for once. He wanted to help. He had to help.

He was still wary as he eased down the hall to a door that was closed, but the latch on the door was not latched. The sobs were coming from behind the door. He was ready for anything when he opened the door. Or so he thought. The room was another cell, exactly as his own cell had been. But instead of him, a woman lay on the bunk, her face pale and drawn with fear and pain. She wore the same kind of outfit he did. Her head had been shaved and the signs of surgery shone on it. How did he know that? He wasn't sure. But he did know her. Her skin was as olive as ever and he could see her dark hair growing back in.

"Ana?" He asked as he stepped forward. She did not react to his voice, simply kept sobbing. He knew her though! She was one of his patients! "Ana? What is wrong?" She did not react to his voice. He was very careful, but she did not react when he touched her arm. She did not react when he turned her face to look at her eyes and hissed in shock. Her eyes were gone! He shook his head in horror. "Oh Ana! What have they done to you?"

He gathered her up and she did not react as he hugged her gently, trying with all his might to get through. But whatever had been done to her had rendered her unreachable. He had no means of determining what had been done. All he could do was try and console her. And try to move past his sudden rage.

"Damn them!" He snapped as he held the crying woman. "They had no right to do this! You did nothing to anyone! You were hurt! I helped you! That is all! You are an innocent!"

"Is that what you called it?" He spun to see his nightmare standing in the doorway. The Major held an odd pistol in her hand. The end glowed red, not like any pistol he had ever seen. "Help? You called what you did help?"

"You had no right to do this!" He screamed at the woman for all the good it would do. "She did nothing to you! Nothing!" He stared as she paused and then laughed coldly. "What?"

"That is the first truthful thing you have said since you were brought in here!" She said with a snarl. "You are a lying, cheating, molesting piece of Advent filth and I would dearly love to blow your brains out now." She took aim and he rose, standing between her and Ana.

"Then do it." The man snapped. "You have the gun! Do it."

"Actually..." The Major shook her head slowly. "I have a better idea." She aimed and fired, but the red thing that flew from it didn't hit him! He stared at her and then spun to see a large red hole in Ana's arm. It was bleeding freely but odd, not like a bullet wound at all. More like a burn!

"NO! You evil bitch!" The doctor snapped, spinning back to the soldier, but she was gone!

"Coming from you, that is a compliment." The woman's mocking voice came from nowhere. "I would tourniquet that before she bleeds out. The medical supplies are three doors down on the right."

"Why are you doing this?" The doctor demanded as he tore off his shirt and wrapped Ana's arm in it, pulling it tight to stem the flow of blood.

"You took everything from me." The Major said coldly. "I am going to take everything from you. But not yet. For now? I want to see you squirm. I want to see you scream and plead and beg as you fail over and over again. You always said you are better than everyone else, Doctor." She said coldly. "Prove it. Save her. Or you are not better than any other human despite your wishes. Your pleas mean nothing to me. Go on. Show me how much better than us you are. Because when you fail and she dies, I will kill you. Until then? I want you to suffer!"

"What kind of a game is this? The doctor demanded, but there was no response. He ran to the door, but she was nowhere in sight. Ana was getting pale and he sighed. He ran and lo and behold? Three doors down on the left was a room filled with medical supplies. Not what he was used to, but comprehensive. He grabbed what he could and ran back. Ana was still bleeding and she had slumped unconscious.

"Damn her." The doctor said with feeling as he started working feverishly, his hands moving in rapid trained patterns. "I am not going to let you die, Ana. We have been through too much for me to lose you now."

He finished treating the odd wound on Ana's arm and shook his head. It wasn't like any wound he had seen before. Not like a bullet or… His mind fuzzed for a moment and then he shook his head again. Not like the wounds Ana had carried when he had first seen her. She had been so close to death that for a time, he had despaired of her ever waking, but she had and her youthful exuberance had been a joy to him in his often dreary work. He had put her back together but nothing could have saved the mind that she had possessed before. He didn't know who she had been before she had been brought into his clinic and truth be told? He didn't care. She had accepted his help and after her recovery had pledged herself to him. Together, they had worked tirelessly to bring care to so many who needed it.

His memories were coming back, but they were still fuzzy. He didn't know who he had been working for or why he had been imprisoned. What he did know was that he was a doctor and he liked helping people.

He brushed Ana's shaven head and she murmured in her sleep. He carefully peeled back her eyelids and stared at the damage in her eye sockets. It was odd. It hadn't been done by any weapon or surgical technique he knew of. Not that any of the surgeons he knew of would intentionally blind someone like this. The only ones he knew of who would be so cruel were the dissidents and they hadn't had him. Had they? His mind fuzzed again.

"Why?" He pleaded to the empty air. "Why did you do this to her?" There was no answer and he slumped. "She is evil, no question. If she attacks us, we are dead, Ana. So… I need to see about healing this and getting us somewhere safe. Somewhere they can help us both."

Ana did not respond and he sighed again as he finished wrapping her arm in a bandage that would protect the wound from any conceivable further trauma outside of another shot from the madwoman.

Ana muttered in her sleep and he paused, leaning close. But the words made no sense. Mostly what had to be curses and the word 'No' repeated over and over.

"Easy, Ana." He gathered her up again and held her until she subsided. "It is all right. It is all right." He said gently. "You are safe. I am here. You are safe." She relaxed almost against her will.

"Knew I heard voices in here!" A new voice sounded and he spun to see a young pale skinned woman standing in the door, a very old shotgun in her hands. Her clothing was dirty but in fairly good repair. He shirt and trousers were not made of anything he knew from the limited memories he had. "Where the hell did you two come from? This place has been abandoned for years."

"We were prisoners here." The man said slowly, not taking his eyes off the woman's shotgun. "I am a doctor and this is Ana, my assistant. They hurt her." The girl's eyes went huge.

"You are a doctor? Really?" She said quickly. "Oh good! We need medical help! We have a lot of people who have been hurt, but only a few people have any training in medicine."

"There are medical supplies here." The doctor said slowly. "But I cannot leave Ana. They hurt her, blinded her." The girl came close, looked at Ana's face and hissed in disgust.

"There are four of us scouting the ruins for supplies." The girl said with a nod. "I will call them." She stood back and raised her head to shout, but paused as the doctor hissed at her.

"No!" The man said quickly. "That will endanger them. There is a crazy woman in this area! She shot Ana. She didn't have any reason to, she just wanted to."

"This just gets better and better." The girl said with a sigh. "I am Valeria. You?"

"I..." The man shook his head. "I know I have a name. I just don't remember it. Whatever they did to me messed up my head. But I do still remember how to patch up wounds." He nodded to Ana's arm.

"We need that kind of skill, bad." The girl said slowly. "You say there are medical supplies here?" It was hard to say what was worse. The hope that filled her voice or the despair that sounded as if it was choking that hope.

"Third door on the right." The doctor said slowly. The girl vanished as swiftly as she had appeared. He looked at Ana who hadn't moved. "Maybe she can help us. Maybe we can help her."

"If that crazy woman lets us."

Not very nearby

"Let me go!" Major Kirsten snapped as two iron hands pulled her towards the waiting Skyranger.

"Don't make us stun you, Major." The woman on the left said firmly as the man on the right pulled her. His eyes were the only visible thing through his black skull mask and they glowed violet. The woman wore full Warden armor and her storm gun was holstered as she had her hands full pulling the furious guard. "We have our orders. You are going back and you are going to have a long rest."

"Why didn't they order me to kill him?" Kirsten screamed as the hatch on the rear of the Skyranger opened up and she was half dragged, half led up it. "I would have!"

"I don't argue with the Commander." The other said with a sigh. "Neither should you. You have a date with the shrinks."

"I am not crazy!" The furious woman screamed as she was manhandled to a seat and the belts engaged around her. She fought them and the two mismatched operatives shared a look. The skull faced man touched the angry soldier's head and she collapsed boneless. "I am not." She said weakly. "Colonel, I am not."

"I know." The other said quietly as she sat beside the now wilting guard and cuffed her hands in front of her. "But you did disobey orders and you did assault two guards who were ordered to evacuate you. You also shot that woman in cold blood. No one blames you for being angry, Major. No one. But you need to face the music for what you did. He is not your problem now. He is ours."

"We can't let him get away with this!" Kirsten pleaded.

"Oh, he won't." The skull faced man said in a tone that was just shy of bone dry. "Trust me. He won't." He readied a syringe and Kirsten stared at it.

"Promise?" She begged weakly as the psi injected her. As she slumped into comforting darkness, she heard Colonel Kelly speak again.

"We promise. He won't get away with what he did to your sister."