Mythos Effect

Chapter 25: False Hope

Adrien was no stranger to early mornings. Back in boot camp, you were up whenever the drill sergeants said you were, whether it was barely sunrise or in the middle of the night. Camp Horton's schedule wasn't nearly so random; the humans allowed a full night's rest without interruption. However, when morning came, everyone was up without exception. Worse, they signaled the arrival of the new day with a recording of some kind of horn, whose tune was both annoyingly upbeat and loud.

But this time, it was different.

Instead of a chipper fanfare, the sound that roused Adrien from his sleep was a harsh, blaring siren. It was a sound that boded nothing good, and as if to emphasize that, an amplified voice rang out.

"All prisoners will assemble in the main courtyard immediately," it declared in thunderous tones.

Adrien blinked, just noticing the flurry of activity around him. The other occupants of the cabin were putting on their prison attires with almost frantic haste. All the while, the message repeated and the siren continued to scream. Calo suddenly appeared before him, face anxious.

"Better get moving, buddy. This isn't the time to be sleeping in."

"What the hell's happening?" Taeden asked, leaning over the side of his bunk, voice carrying the ponderous tone of the recently woken.

"One of our people fucked up big time," Calo said grimly. "This only happens if someone breaks the Big Three."

Adrien's drowsiness suddenly faded, replaced by a cold sense of foreboding. While he had only just arrived at Camp Horton, he had made a point to memorize the rules that the commandant had spoken of. At the very top were the offenses that would warrant the death penalty: murder, rape, and assaulting the guards, all written in big, bold letters colored bright red. It was actually very similar to what the Hierarchy had in place, though no less threatening for it. And if the humans went through the same procedures as they did, it was sure to be a swift and bloody affair.

It had been a long time since Adrien had been so motivated to get dressed.

Some minutes later, he found himself in the courtyard, packed tightly against his fellow inmates. The mecha that had been part of the greeting party when he'd first arrived were already there, forming a solid wall of metal in case the Turians started to get unruly. Taeden was on his right, looking as troubled as Adrien felt. He didn't blame the younger soldier; nobody would want to see one of their own facing the retribution of an alien power, no matter how legal or justified it might be. They all stood facing the podium, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

Colonel Rashid appeared through the door of a nearby compound, striding purposefully towards the raised platform. Beside him was a female Turian, who matched his pace. She looked as if she'd been in a fight; cuts and bruises marred her face and one eye was covered by a bandage. Her good eye blazed with a visceral outrage.

They were followed by an entourage of armed guards who matched, the clomping of their armored boots echoing throughout the campgrounds. Another Turian was among them, hands bound tightly behind his back. A low chorus of mutters broiled up from the mass of onlookers; some were curious, some were angry, and some were morbidly intrigued.

Colonel Rashid stepped up onto the podium with the female Turian following after him. The guards took up position around the perimeter and the prisoner was brought up. Adrien was finally able to get a good look at him and, to his surprise, he recognized the prisoner.

Malgus was ushered into the center of the podium and made to kneel. He was in rough shape as well, sporting bruises of his own and a pair of ugly lacerations on his snout. Something had obviously happened between him and the female Turian; judging by the bone-deep look of loathing she gave him, it had been a very personal matter.

Adrien glanced over at Taeden to observe his reaction at seeing a member of his unit about to be condemned, expecting some sort of empathetic reaction. Instead, he saw that Taeden looked coldly satisfied, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for a long time.

"Well, how about that," he muttered. "Looks like Malgus finally punched his ticket."

In spite of the situation, Adrien felt a sense of curiosity starting to bubble up inside him. Before he could say anything, Colonel Rashid stepped up to the edge of the podium, raking the gathered prisoners with a piercing gaze.

"I consider myself a fair man," he said. "I strive to create a haven of order and peace here, separate from the ugliness of war on this world. When someone breaks the rules, I do my best to be as lenient as possible." His face suddenly crashed into a dark scowl.

"However, there are certain offences that cannot and will not be treated lightly." He turned back to Malgus, staring down at him with utter contempt. "Trooper Malgus Serrik, you have been found guilty of rape and attempted murder in accordance with both Federation and Hierarchy standards of wartime justice. The penalty for these crimes is death by firing squad."

Rashid then looked over at the female Turian. "Corporal Vespia Karos, as the aggrieved party, by Hierarchy law, you have the right to appeal for clemency on behalf of the convicted. Is that your wish?"

One look at the hateful glare she was giving Malgus was enough for anyone to know that there would be no mercy from her. He stared back at her, baring his teeth in a mocking sneer. There was absolutely no trace of remorse or regret for his actions. If he was sorry about anything, it was only that he'd been caught.

Vespia looked back up at the commandant and shook her head. "No. And I say you should feed him to your Engels. A bullet's too good for this piece of shit."

"Very well, then." Rashid once more turned to face Malgus. "Leniency has been denied. The sentence will be carried out immediately."

The two guards seized Malgus under the arms and hauled up back to his feet. They dragged him off the podium and over to a nearby wall, where a row of metal pillars stood. There was no need to guess what their purpose was.

Malgus was brought up to one of them and made to turn around so that the guards could attach his restraints to a ring in its center. One pulled out a strip of black cloth and held it up to him.

"Do you want a blindfold?" he asked.

Malgus's answer came in the form of a large globule of spit which he hocked onto the guard's visor. The human stowed the cloth strip away and calmly wiped his visor clean. Their job done, the two guards stepped back as a whole squad of human soldiers marched forward, spreading out to form a single line. One of them stepped off to the side and addressed Malgus.

"Malgus Serrik, for the crime of rape and attempted murder, you will now suffer death by firing squad. Do you have any last words before the sentence is carried out?"

Malgus grinned crookedly at the human. "Yeah: could you hurry up? I haven't got all day."

Well, he's no coward, that's for sure, thought Adrien. It was almost enough for him to feel some respect towards the condemned Turian. Almost.

The human moved off to one side and turned to face the execution squad. He held up a hand and barked, "Make ready!"

There was a rattle of metal as the soldiers held their guns at attention, smooth as greased machinery.

"Take aim!"

The barrels of four guns were leveled at Malgus with practiced ease. Adrien couldn't help but wonder if they had done this before. The entire camp was now completely silent; there was not even a whisper of wind to be heard.

"FIRE!"

The baleful crack of gunfire shattered the silence. Malgus slumped against his post, chest riddled with ragged, bloody holes. The human who had ordered the firing approached and inspected the now-lifeless Turian. Apparently satisfied that Malgus was properly dead, he nodded at Rashid, who had been looking on.

"Let this be a warning to you all," he declared, pointing at the bullet-riddled corpse "The rules of Camp Horton will be enforced, without exception." He gave an absent wave to the gathered Turians. "You are all dismissed; go get your breakfast now."

With that, the crowd of Turian prisoners dispersed and headed towards the cafeteria. No one spared the body so much as a backward glance, even as it was being taken down from the post. An outsider might have been shocked by the display of cool apathy, but that was simply how their society worked. Malgus had obviously committed severe crimes and was completely unrepentant. Thus, it was the duty of the established authority to mete out justice; the fact that it was a foreign power doing it made no difference. Far better to put the whole affair out of mind and decide what you wanted to eat.

The mess hall was a huge place, easily able to accommodate the entire male side of the camp. As Adrien and Taeden passed through the door, the smell of freshly-cooked food hit them. Grabbing a tray from the dispenser near the doors, they went to stand in line.

Food was served buffet style in massive metal bins, staffed by other Turians who ladled portions out onto proffered trays. It was good food, too; scrambled louza eggs, rashers of shatha bacon, dextro-amino flapjacks, and more. Adrien took a little of everything and by the time they exited the line, his tray had practically disappeared under a pile of breakfast dishes.

"Well, today is definitely shaping up to be a good one," Taeden remarked cheerfully as they sat down at a nearby table.

"I guess there's no need to ask how you feel about Malgus's untimely demise," Adrien remarked dryly. While there was certainly no love lost where he was concerned, the younger Turian looked happier than he'd been in a long while and Adrien was almost positive that he'd just gotten a new spring in his step.

Taeden took a bite of eggs and let out a scornful laugh. "If ever there was someone who deserved a hail of bullets, it was him. Malgus used to be a hitter for some bigtime gang in one of the big cities on Digeris before everything went to shit; he had a rap sheet of everything from petty theft to cold-blooded murder. Believe me, the galaxy is a better place with him gone."

"How does someone like that get mixed in with a regular unit?" asked Adrien. "Unless the judicial system on this world is insanely lenient, it sounds like he should have been on death row."

"He was, actually," said Taeden. "But then the Federation invaded and we had bigger concerns. They were killing us so fast that we started running out of warm bodies to fill in the gaps. Off-world reinforcements were sporadic at best and even the reserves were getting eaten up—literally, in most cases." The younger Turian's face took on a gloomy look.

"It got to the point where we had two choices: either lower the age limit for enlistment, or recruit from the dregs of society. Since no one wanted to put kids through the hell that had come to Digeris, we started drafting inmates from every prison on the planet to fill in the gaps in legion ranks."

Adrien nodded as he chewed on strip of bacon. It was customary for criminals to be given a chance at redemption in the eyes of the Hierarchy, usually by going out on missions that were considered near-suicide. If they lived, their crimes were expunged; if not, they were forgiven posthumously. In the event of a full-scale war, entire penal battalions could be sent out.

"The results were...mixed, let's say," Taeden continued. "They weren't exactly keen on getting eaten alive by a human-made monster. Some slipped away in the chaos of war at the first opportunity, while others flat-out mutinied. Basically, those commanding a unit where convicts were put in had to be mean and harsh."

"I take it Julek is no exception, then?" asked Adrien. His mind flashed back to his confrontation with Ferox, where the veteran captain had saved his hide. He still felt a chill at how completely unafraid Julek had been and how easily he'd gotten Ferox to back off.

"Hmm..." Taeden's mandibles flared thoughtfully. "The captain's not really harsh, so much as...creative, when he decides to assert his authority. He's totally insane, but he's the kind of insane that nobody wants to fuck with. In fact, our company became the dumping ground for the real shitbags because of that; we've had murderers, gang members, even a serial arsonist, and they were all too scared of Julek to try anything."

"Huh," Adrien said. His curiosity was now thoroughly aroused and it sensed an opportunity to learn more about the enigmatic captain. "So, what exactly is the story with Julek? How did he get to be...you know—" he waved a hand around in the air.

"You mean, how did he become the lunatic steel-hide he is today?" asked Taeden wryly. He gave a small shrug. "Honestly, I don't really know too much about him. He's not really interested in talking about his past, and the rumor mill churns out all kinds of stories about him. What I've gathered is that he used to be as sane as you or me, but he was stationed at Apparitus when the Federation attacked the city; he was one of the very few soldiers who made it out alive. Whatever happened there turned him into what he is now." A slight shudder coursed through him. "Personally, I think I'm better off not knowing."

Adrien privately agreed with that sentiment. Whatever dark thoughts were going on behind those sharp, gleaming eyes of Julek's were ones that he was perfectly happy to never find out.

"What about Sidra and Lux?"

"There's not much to say about Lux," said Taeden. "He lost his arm at some city or other; a building had caved in on him and it got trapped under a big chunk of rubble. The guy had to cut it off to free himself.

"Sidra, on the other hand...whoof." Taeden shook his head. "That is not a happy story, I can tell you. She used to be part of the recon corps, trying to infiltrate Huey lines. On her last mission, her team got ambushed by a Tager; killed the others and left her for dead. She managed to find a nearby town to take refuge in, but the place already had occupants.

"You remember what I said about those convicts who went their own way? Well, a decent-sized group of them had turned bandit and were using the town as their base. They were a bunch of vicious, hard-bitten males and Sidra was a young, relatively attractive female. You can do the math there."

Adrien nodded, suddenly feeling both queasy and angry. "How'd she get out of there?"

"She killed them all," Taeden replied simply. "One night, her captors didn't secure her properly and she got loose. Slit the throats of the bandits while they slept and then went to work on their boss. He wasn't so lucky. After that, Sidra made her way back to friendly lines and was placed under Julek's command."

"How do you know all this?" asked Adrien. "I only met her briefly, but Sidra doesn't strike me as someone who would spill their life's story."

Taeden chuckled softly. "Well, believe it or not, that's exactly what she did. When I got transferred to Julek's company after my old one got wiped out, she stood took me and the other new meat aside and told us her story, followed by a warning that she wouldn't hesitate to do the same to us as she did to the bandit chief if we got out of line." He shuddered at the memory. "That moment ranks in my top five scariest experiences. I think that was the only time I ever heard her string more than three consecutive words together."

A dejected look suddenly crossed his face. "Wonder how they're holding up? Things are probably getting really bad now."

It was at this moment that Adrien decided to seize his chance. His goal to escape from the Camp Horton had not diminished, despite the fact that his life had become far more bearable since arriving. But he knew that he couldn't do it alone, and Taeden was the best choice to help him. Seeing him express such worry for his unit back at Carista gave him hope that he'd agree to help him.

Well, here goes nothing.

"I wish I knew how my soldiers were holding up, too," Adrien began in a casual tone. "Things were already pretty strained before we left on our scouting mission; can't imagine they've gotten any better."

"Yeah, well, nothing we can do about it," Taeden sighed.

"Not here, no," Adrien agreed. "So, it would probably help if we weren't here."

Taeden snorted. "What are you talking about? How would we—" He stopped midsentence and his head snapped up to look at Adrien. "Wait, are you saying what I think you are?"

Adrien nodded. "I am."

Taeden glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Fortunately, everyone else was too occupied with their meals and the ambient noise was loud enough to drown out everything beyond their immediate area. He bent over his tray and hissed, "Are you out of your mind? You really want to try and escape?"

"I have to," said Adrien, bending down to Taeden's level. "My troops are still trapped in that city and they are living on borrowed time. I can't just sit here and leave them to the whims of fate." He looked Taeden dead in the eye. "But I can't do it alone; I need your help."

Taeden let out a bark of laughter, as if Adrien had just said something incredibly dumb. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Your unit is trapped there, too. Don't you want to save them?"

"Not enough to go back out there," said Taeden firmly. He held up a hand to forestall any comments. "Look, I've been fighting in this fucking war ever since it came to Digeris, and every second of it was a nightmare. For over two years, I've been dodging the jaws and talons of bioengineered monsters, exchanging fire with Huey soldiers, and going to sleep each night wondering if a Tager or some other horror is going to pay me a visit. I can't even begin to count the number of times I nearly died out there.

"But now, I don't have to worry about all that. In this place, there's good food, comfortable accommodations, and best of all, safety. All I have to be concerned about is how I'm going to spend my days here until the war ends. Besides, for all we know, Carista has fallen. I'm not about to throw myself back into the meatgrinder for what might very well turn out to be a pointless task. Hell, you should want to stay here even more than I do; didn't you say that you have a wife and son back home? This is your best chance to see them again."

The mention of Sarissa and Tarquin hit Adrien like a physical blow. Taeden was right, he knew; if he stayed in Camp Horton, then he was practically guaranteed to be reunited with them whenever the war ended. How many Turians would kill to have that opportunity? How many others had already lost it forever?

But Adrien knew that if he didn't at least try to get back to his troops, he'd never forgive himself. No matter how tempting it was, he couldn't bring himself to abandon them. They had stuck by him through so much; it would be a stain on his soul if he gave up on them.

"Much as I would love to stay here, I can't just leave them," said Adrien solemnly.

"Well, more power to you." Taeden turned his attention back to his food with finality. "Do whatever you want, but leave me out of it. I'm sorry, captain, but that's the way it is."

Adrien couldn't say he was surprised by the younger Turian's reaction. The Federation had devised the best kind of prison: one where the inmates didn't want to leave. Places like Camp Horton offered a bastion of relief amidst a maelstrom of death, destruction and crushing despair. It was plainly obvious that Taeden wasn't going to be persuaded by appeals to loyalty.

But Adrien still had one trick left to play.

"What about Hius?" he asked.

Taeden, who had been about to shovel a forkful of eggs into his mouth, suddenly stopped and slowly looked back up at him. "What did you say?"

"I said: what about Hius?" Adrien repeated. "You know, your lover back in Carista."

"We're not lovers!" Taeden snapped. "I told you, we're just mutual bunkmates, nothing more!"

"That's a load of crap and we both know it," Adrien retorted. "I saw how you looked when you talked about her; she means a lot more to you than just a quick tumble in the sheets, and I'm sure the feeling is mutual. She's probably wondering if you're ever going to make it back."

"She won't be," Taeden declared bitterly. "We were only supposed to be out for a day at most on our scouting mission. By now, we'll have been written off as MIA. Hius won't waste time on false hope."

Though he put up a good front, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Adrien. He was wavering, and Adrien now went in for the kill.

"Even if that's true, it doesn't change the fact that she's still out there, in an absolutely shitty situation." Adrien pointed at Taeden's plate. "I can guarantee Hius isn't eating as well as us; unless they got some sort of windfall, the rations are almost gone. Then, she's going to be faced with two options: surrender to the Federation, or go out with a bang.

"Then again, she might not even get a choice; maybe some of the soldiers with dreams of being part of a heroic last stand will force everyone's hand. Or maybe the Hueys will send out another Tager pack to cause more damage and she'll end up among the casualties."

Adrien gave a nonchalant shrug. "But, if you really don't see her as anything but a convenient bunkmate, then by all means stay here, feasting and lounging about while she starves and waits for whatever end may come."

For a long moment, Taeden glared sourly at Adrien, not saying anything. Then, then younger Turian looked down at his food, grumbled something under his breath, and raised his head back up to look at him.

"You're a cruel, manipulative asshole, you know that?" he said, pointing is fork at Adrien. He heaved a sigh that seemed to come from a deep abyss within himself. "Fine. I must be out of my mind, but count me in for your get-out-of-jail plan." He stared pointedly at Adrien. "You do have a plan, right?"

"Let's call it a 'work in progress,'" said Adrien.

Taeden heaved another sigh. "I was afraid you'd say that."