[REDACTED] Act One: The Chimes of Freedom

[Apocaric]

What should have been a simple protest turned into a riot. And thirty masters-at-arms just aren't enough for riot control. The alarms were old news by now, of course, but there wasn't any way to turn them off. The command post had been gutted by a Molotov cocktail. Not that there were many survivors to hear it. The masters-at-arms were overwhelmed, police were on the other side of the riot, and scientific staff were quickly beaten to death. A few were dragged off and raped.

But now the only sounds in Observation Lab B were the klaxons, and the stumbling, dragging footsteps of a half-dead master-at-arms. He was bruised and bleeding, his right arm hung useless, and his left leg had three extra bends, but he slowly, carefully made his way to the observers' control station. He knew perfectly well he wasn't likely to live out the night, but maybe, just maybe, his siblings would survive.

Seaman Joseph Grimes, ID code CM331/LF, had just enough time to hit the emergency override for the isolation cells before blackness overcame him. He didn't feel a thing as he bonelessly slumped to the ground.

 

[Vay]

The cell at first glance appeared to be empty, it took a minuet to see the dark shape sitting restlessly in the corner. The buzz of the alarms spurred him into activity but in the spartan room allowed nothing but restless string on the hard cot. He had given up on sleep and instead tried to remain as invisible as possible.

he sharp electric buzz from the lock on the door came as a surprise but he jumped up immediately and stood at attention in the center of the room facing the door, prepared to salute the first one to walk through the door. But no one came. A full minuet passed and the door still didn't open, full of curiosity and concern he crept over to the one way glass and swung the door open.