No Laughing Matter

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Another story of Syn by Jake Combs

Part 1- A Jovial Nature

When people tell stories of Syn or Snake as he was more commonly referred to, they seldom mention any of his battles that were not against either the Federation or the rebellion. That is mostly because some people are better forgotten. You would be hard pressed to find more than a handful of people still alive that remember the months of laughter as they were called. Syn's contribution to the story however happened much later.

Most people have heard of the suicide games but few know the history of the planet Razzen and even fewer know that the use of harsh planets as penal colonies extended across dozens of worlds. There was always a risk of the in,ages escaping. With the help of dozens of warships watching silently from space these escapees would be destroyed long before they could even break the atmosphere, not realizing that their stolen transports aren't even designed to travel through translation but to dock aboard a frigate of some kind to carry them across the vastness of space. These planets were saved for the most typical of criminals but those that suffered from some sort of compulsion or mental disease were sent to one place, the station Lordicast.

Lordicast was one of the few stations that remained stationary outside of any planetary orbit within the Xaq system. Every ninety local days a different planet would be within range for resupply and staff rotation.

Each cell housed a single inmate, those that insisted on making excessive noise found themselves in a soundproof room so they couldn't agitate their neighbors. The rare few that behaved themselves and took their required medication found themselves given added amenities with the hopes of reintroducing them into some aspect of society or another.

Jokile sat crosslegged in his cell, head slumped against his chest. An orderly walked the halls with a tray in his hands. "Wake up, shithead," the orderly said as he slid the tray into the room through a slot at the base of the door. The door was made of a synthetic metal that when energized was entirely translucent, there were no secrets within the facility. Jokile remained still, the only movement was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. "Dammit you little bitch! Wake up and eat your lunch." Jokile's lips twitched inperceptively as he smiled, he loved how easy it was to agitate the hired help. "Patient three-seven-three-one do not move from your position on the floor." The orderly stepped into the small cell and with a small baton poked the patient until he fell onto his back.

He continued to prod at the man but received no response. He turned to call for help from the others on staff. Jokile rose from his spot on the floor silently, covered the man's mouth with one hand, jerking his head back before tearing a chunk of flesh from his throat with his teeth, arterial spray coloring his face.

Using the blood of the dying orderly he slicked his hair back into a dripping ponytail, using the man's personal ID bracelet to secure it in place. Another handful of the cooling liquid painted his face completely.

"Giom, what's taking so long?" a voice called from the sterile hallway.

A second orderly stepped into the room, mouth going slack as he sees the bloody spectre before him. Jokile laughes deeply as he grabs the sheet from his bed, wraps it around the orderly's neck and began choking the life out of him. Jokile's movements took all of a fraction of a second, ample time considering the surprising shock of seeing a colleague bleeding out of the neck. The man resisted ineffectually by thrashing wildly, missing the patient with every swing and kick. The movements become weaker and weaker as the man struggles to breathe until the body becomes slack. As a precautionary measure Jokile twists the head around ensuring the man's death.

He carefully removes the clean medical uniform from the orderly and dressed himself immediately.

"It's time for a night on the town!" he howled as he left the room. He pranced down the hall as if he was dancing to some unheard music with an invisible partner holding his hands and joining in.

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