nmyworld

Shit. Knew I should’ve done something, thought Ral as he leaned his head against the steel bars confining him to his bed and hole in the floor. The cold steel on the floor of this ship was even colder than those of his own and the air (which seemed equally as cold as the floors) reeked of urine and other fowl odors that accumulate when humans are allowed to live in unfiltered air.

In adjacent cells of the dim room were others who probably fell victim to similar circumstances. One man looked like he’d been in open space too long; his long beard was only rivaled in neglect by his sickly thin frame.

“Asteroid miner?” squawked the old man.

Ral hesitated, caught off guard by both the question and the voice that broke the stone silence in the room. He looked around to make sure the man was talking to him.

“Part-time, yeah, ” replied Ral, uncertain rather or not this character wanted a long conversation.

“What kinda ship yeh sail, eh? Or fly. Whatever. Is it one of those new K-70s? I hear they got near Earth gravity!”

“No… I - I use a J series,” replied Ral awkwardly.

“Why clam up boy? You better take a liking to me! We’re in for a -”

“Look. I’m sorry, old man, but I don’t really like talking. Especially with strangers,” said Ral.

The old man looked as if someone had just punched him in the jaw. He retreated to the back of his cell where he proceeded to carry on a similar conversation with the man in the cell next to him.

Hours passed as slowly as days with no sound other than small talk by other prisoners and the occasional sound of men doing their business in the hole in the floor. It was obvious that this ship was very large; Ral couldn’t even determine which direction they were moving or even if they were moving.

The door at the end of the block of cells opened very hastily with a low metallic sliding sound. A figure stood in the poorly lit doorway flanked by two armored men with enourmous firearms.

“By decree of the President of the People’s Republic, I announce all those who wish to join the People’s Republic Army free of their holding and first in line for training and armament. Those who do not wish to join will be held indefinately or until further notice,” said the figure reading from a hand-sized note.

With this, the armed guard on the left turned around to press a button while the other raised his weapon and aimed it between the cells. When the button was pressed, a loud buzzing noise sound and all of the cell doors slid down with a familiar low metallic sliding sound.

“All who wish to fight for freedom against the majority tyranny of the Democratic Assembly of Planets, step forward,” said the silhouette in the doorway. His voice was high pitched and distinctly weak.

Ral looked around and saw that no one was moving, only staring at him as if they knew what he was going to do. Not one to dissapoint (and because he didn’t want to stay in the cell any longer), he stepped out of his cage without contemplating the consequences.

The guard on the left pressed another button causing all of the cell bars to slam up. Ral looked at the other men in the cells who peered back apathetically.

“Follow me,” said the voice as it’s owner turned and began walking down a dark, rusty corridor.

Ral obeyed and stepped out of the cell room followed by the two menacing guards holding rifles larger than his legs. This new room was worse than the last: it was much colder and had only one light which was flickering an ugly yellow color when it was actually functioning as an old-fashioned light bulb should. It was cylidrical with a catwalk suspended in the center over a black liquid that Ral couldn’t identify and was probably the source of the gut wrenching smell in the air.

It now occured to Ral that he may have made the wrong decision. He didn’t think that his situation could have gotten any worse from the cell room, but that notion was quickly being proven wrong.

He followed the short man along a catwalk suspended over . Then came the smell: fresh air. Every man of the day knew the feeling. When one stepped out of an unfiltered environment into a natural or filtered environment, any air – even that with a bad natural odor – smelled as sweet as any rose garden. As the man in the lead neared the door, it too opened quickly with the same sound as the others.

The clean white light that flooded the dark rusty room caused Ral to grunt and shade his eyes until they adjusted. Ral felt relieved that the entire ship wasn’t in such bad shape as the holding room. A blast of fresh warm air without the smell of urine filled his lungs and gave his lungs a tickle.

When the four men’s eyes adjusted to the white light, they stepped into the room and stopped. The funny looking man turned around and peered up at Ral.

“Here we are,” he said. “This is The Yarbale, home of the 14th Division of the People’s Republic Army. We fight for the… the uh -” the man fumbled on words and raised his hand to read the note from which he had previously read.

“We fight for the independence of all men, majority or minority; for every outpost, city, and village in the solar system; against the tyranny of the majority body of the Democratic Assembly; against the excessive use of force against dissenting opinions and ideas; against the revising of history and censoring of information. Do you, name here, wish to formally join us?” He looked up and down at his paper again when he noticed his embarassing slip up. It was obvious that he had recently been promoted and Ral was the first person to which he’d had to give this speech.

The man looked up with a slightly red face and awaited a reply.

“Uh…yes?” replied Ral.

The red in his face faded and a smile overcame the embarassed smirk he previously wore. “Good, good!” said the man over enthusiastically. “Let it be known that I, Jarrod Enfield, pronounce -” he looked at Ral, putting him on the spot.

Ral fumbled, “Oh, uh, the name’s Raleigh Johns, where -”

“Raleigh Johns as a private underclass in the People’s Republic Army,” interrupted Jarrod. He checked his paper in case he missed anything and breathed a pleased sigh of relief.

“All right, now that that’s over, let’s go,” said Jarrod, turning around and beginning to walk down the left of the well lit white hallway.

“Uh, what do I have to do? Will I ever get my ship back? My things?”

Jarrod kept walking and Ral was forced forward by the two menacing guards.

“That will all be explained to you shortly. Please try to keep up.”

Jarrod’s brisk pace made the walk quite difficult for someone who had been caged for a few hours in such an odd place. How a dirty disgusting holding room can exist in a ship this clean and white was definately a feet of modern engineering.

At first it seemed as if they were the only people on board, but as they navigated further into the ship they began passing people; armored guards, uniformed officers, and even a few men dressed in casual clothing. Ral began noticing signs on the floor. Ral noticed that they were on the way to the cafeteria.

Sure enough, they turned a wide bend where the hallway widened and turned into an expansive room dotted with round benches with a clearly fake wood finish.. The smell of many different types of food in the air reminded Ral of his hunger and he immediately began anticipating a hearty meal fit for a solider. The funny looking Jarrod walked past a few of the immitation wood tables, stopping at one with a large covered plate on it.

“Wow – that was fast,” said Jarrod to himself as he looked at the plate.
He turned to Ral. “This will be the first meal of your training. We will leave you to eat and you’ll need it. You got a long way to go.”

The three men turned their back to Ral and dissapeared through a doorway behind an empty counter. Ral turned to look at the cover and began to sit on the suprisingly warm bench.

“You volunteering, too?” asked a slightly british voice to his left.

Ral jumped up and prepared to defend himself. What he saw was dissapointing: a small dark haired man with a mouthfull of food grinning back at him.

“Fuckin’ hell, man. You scared me,” said Ral defensively.

“Well don’t get all offensive there, mate! I just asked you a question,” said the man.

Ral composed himself with a sigh and sat back down at the table. “Yes, I’m volunteering so I didn’t have to stay in that cold cell any longer,” he said. By the rigid tone of his voice, it was clear he didn’t like being startled.

The man stood up, grabbing his tray of food and slid on Ral’s table, opposite of him in one smooth, flowing motion.

“The name’s Talos, Tal for short. Tal Epopis – that’s almost latin for bird. Don’t know why I say that,” replied the man. “What’s your’s?”

Ral dodged the question and looked down at his covered plate of food wondering what it would reveal. He lifted the oil paper from the plate on the table and what it revealed was dissapointing, to stay the least.

“Peanut butter and jelly? I volunteer my life to their cause and they offer me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” said Ral angrily.

“Why, they’re the best PB and J this side of Mercury, especially if you haven’t eaten for as long as I have,” said Tal.

Ral hadn’t eaten since before he went out on the mining trip. He tried to ignore the sandwich and eat the sun-dried fruit around it, but his sotmach wanted the sandwich more than he didn’t want it. He picked up the poorly made sandwich and took an enourmous bite – almost half the sandwich. It truly might have been the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich this side of Mercury.

“Not half bad,” said Ral while chewing.

Tal glanced into Ral’s mouth and looked away disgusted. “Oy, mate! Didn’t your mum tell you not to chew with your mouth open?”

Ral looked confused and swallowed the rest of his half chewed bite. “What? You just did.”

“Eh? Well, yes. I suppose I did. Heh!”

This brought a chuckle to both of them.

“Raleigh Johns,” said Ral.

“What?”

“My name,” said Ral.

“Right. What is it?”

“Raleigh Johns,” replied the frustrated Ral.

“Ooh! Right. Well, nice to meet you Raleign Johns. Mind if I call you Ral? It would make a pair, it would. Ral and Tal, heroes of the People’s Republican Army,” said Tal, apparently unphased by Ral’s frustration.

Talos Epopis was an odd character. Some considered him a freedom fighter while most just considered him a mercenary. On the one hand, he volunteered for one of the PRA’s most ambitious plans: attacking United Continents headquarters in Santiago, Chile. This would certainly lead to his death if the DAP could muster troops to the area fast enough. But, on the other hand, if the attack was successful, not only would the division he belonged to become the highest paid division in the PRE, they would also be permitted to plunder anything they wish from the compound except munitions.

There were many rumors of what the compound held, few of them true. Some believed it to be full of gold; others believed it was where all of the diamonds in the solar system were synthesized; still others knew that they simply kept their rather large military budget stored somewhere in the heavily guarded doors. No matter which scenario was true, it was almost certain that anyone who participated in the dangerous attack would be rich enough to buy their own small army.

“So where ya from and how’d you get here? Spill ‘em.” asked Tal.

Ral was suprised that anyone cared enough to ask such a broad question, but the character seemed nice enough.

“I was out asteroid mining -”

“Oh! An asteroid miner? Do you fly a K series? I hear they’re nice!” interrupted Tal.

Everybody’s an expert, thought Ral.

“No. I fly a J,” said Ral. “Anyway, I mine from the Kupier Mining Outpost on weekends for a little dollar. I don’t have very high living expenses.”

“You work two days a week? Bloody hell! I guess mining pays off well. It used to cost me over 4,000 dollar to live when I was in university.”

“No, not really. I eat for cheap – mixed nuts at the bar, dark beer, the occasional Nutter Monkey,” said Ral. Nutter Monkeys were his favorite.

“Nutter Monkeys? I didn’t know people ate those. How can you justify eating a slab of fat that costs a buck in a day where the cheapest meal cost at least ten,” said Tal. “How do you stay in shape with such a terrible diet?”

It was true, Ral was in great shape. He never worked out, but looked as if he regularly lifted. His muscles weren’t absolutely inhumanly large, but they weren’t as small as Tal’s. But he did box occasionally with his fellow miners before he went out.

“I box,” said Ral, defensively.

“Well, that’s good excercise I hear. I just play wall ball with my mates sometimes. Well, I used to, anyway. You’ll have to teach me to box one day. I’m a good street fighter, but I doubt I could beat a boxer in a fair fight.” Tal looked away.

Ral chuckled on the inside. Liar, he thought. He liked this new face.