No Shelter Among the Stars

Chapter 13 - The Captain

Sander walked down an empty hallway, turning and descending a slow incline to a sealed door. His heart seemed to beat louder as he grew closer. For a moment, he simply stood still, staring at the door. It was an unremarkable door. Some symbols were scratched across its dull surface. It called on spirits and shadows on the old planet, the dead, half-eaten men strewn about Carnival's vast jungles. He supposed it also called to the dead who had perished on board. Stathis had carved his own immortality into the walls, and that of the rest of the Konsilia. Every spirit that had ever set foot on Carnival was bound and summoned for protection. But if the ghosts of his brothers were truly roaming the halls of the ship, Sander was about to betray them. 

Not that they had been especially helpful up to this point.

His hand didn't shake as he pressed his palm to open the door. His hands never shook, no matter how fast his blood was pumping in his ears. He flinched his hand away as the door opened. Light cut into an absolutely black room. His shadow stretched out before him. The darkness had been a choice by the Captain. He had tampered with the brig's wiring somehow within days of being locked away. Not even Spiro had figured how he had done it. They had all expected the Captain's escape shortly after, but he had never even tried. Once he had extinguished the light in his cell; he had seemed content. Sander had deliberately avoided contemplating the rationale behind that.

He walked in slowly. The electrified bars that partitioned the room hummed. He tried to control his breathing as his chest tightened. He reached for the pistol at his hip, but didn't touch it. He couldn't use his weapon. The lives of his Konsilia depended on it. That thought made him feel suddenly, extremely, vulnerable. In a wave of pure emotion he almost fled back out the door. Let someone else deal with this madness. Let one of the others face their mad commander.

Instead, he took another couple steps, until he was entirely inside the room. Despite the light from the open door, he couldn't see anyone inside the cell, only shadows.

"Well, well, well," whispered a voice from the shadows on the right.

Sander stiffened, instinctively coming to attention. The shadows moved, a figure descended from the ceiling behind the bars, unfolding himself, and dropping to the floor without a sound. Captain Ixion rose to his feet like darkness come to life

"Sergeant," whispered the Captain as he approached. "It has been quite a while." He moved partially into the light, shadows finding the angles and scars across his face and torso.

"Sir," said Sander. He consciously forced himself to move, stepping to one side, but not any closer to the humming cell.

"You are the only one that never came down here...not once, in all this time," said the Captain. He stepped as close as he could to the electrified bars. So close, that Sander thought for a moment he might electrocute himself. Light and dark carved across the Captain's visible body.

"Seemed little point to it, sir," said Sander. Old deep anger was stirring within his innards, warring with an irrational fear that sent a bead of cold sweat down his spine. He pushed it all down and kept his hand away from his holster.

"But there's a point to it now?" said the Captain, crouching even closer. Light from the doorway illuminated his face. His eyes gleamed with either excitement or amusement, perhaps both. He had a crisscross of scars on his cheek that Sander didn't remember seeing before.

"I...we need your help, sir," said Sander. The words tasted foul, and nearly stuck in his throat. For a moment the anger and fear faded and he was hollow, defeated.

"My jailers need my help, do they?" hissed the Captain, and Sander definitely recognized amusement dancing in his eyes.

Now Sander did take a step forward. "Don't act like you don't deserve worse than this, sir," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "Don't you dare pretend like you're the one betrayed, with the blood of three of our Konsilia staining your hands."