…..”Welcome to the order son.” Marvin held a hand out for Kam to shake. “You proved yourself far better than any recruit ever could…obviously none of this happened, understood? Report back here…..
….Being thrown into the leather bound chair wasn’t anything new at this point. Two weeks with R’em would be enough to desensitize the toughest men of pain. The Writer took the flinging like the rag doll he was being tossed around as. His hands found his chin immediately as he stared at the blank page…..
……….”You are a fool!”, Omerik spat, snatching the protective glove off one hand, as he reached into his belt-bound pouch. He unveiled a sturdy, field ready syringe and stabbed the creature who shook the greywoods down to their roots, with another roar. This one was less of a roar and more of a painful cry of distress………..
……The first page was simply a request for the test takers name. Simple enough. She turned the page and found it was intentionally left blank. Rose glanced up at the timer being displayed on her desk, she had forty-three minutes remaining to complete the exam. To her that meant it would be forty-three minutes of pure propaganda……
…..The police department had a heavy dose of small town vibe; upon entering the wooden double doors Grant found himself standing in front a large podium like desk, manned by two burly officers. Along with a shared body type the two guardsmen also had simplistic facial expressions that seemed to say “Who is this foreigner?”…..
The thrumming helicopter blades dragged D’Amber from the neck cramping, slob inducing nap. She stretched her neck from side to side, scoffing at the very idea of being shuttled in the flying machine. What a mockery of who she was….
…..T’Rik squeezed his knees tighter into his chest; he was a shivering ball, using the one-size-fits-“everyone under six-three” sleeping bag as a blanket and trying with all his might to squeeze in any remaining warmth the tent had. The only bright side of the night-time freezing temperatures was the fact that come daybreak the planets surface would once again rise to well over forty-three degrees Celsius. Similar to desert climates back on Earth…..
…..They received a few stares and upturned noses. Kora’s compassion was rare on the station known for its disdain of Ambers; even rarer on Union-Prime station was Rose, a hybrid-eyed citizen. Her father had been an amber, her mother had beautiful bright green eyes; the result of their marriage was Rose — she had inherited an iris from each of them. She’d covered the amber with an eye patch when she was younger, but had eventually grown out of hiding her true self from the public….
…..Rory stared a long while. Just watching the old man’s chest rise and fall. The heart monitor providing a metronome for deep thought; The hospital TV adding background noise. Rory touched his grandfather’s hand the hand.
“Flora?!?!” The elder sprang awake calling for his long gone love.
“Nah Gramps…” Rory answered……