Installation v0.2 BETA
I look around me and find the plaza completely surrounded. Surprisingly quick work; most of the time, the Market Guard act mostly as a clean-up crew rather than a suppression squad. That's the only reason that I've ever seen them don armor; the worker riots were the last time I saw them this way.
The guys about to start the fight just freeze; I don't move myself, but more out of curiosity to see what would happen next than fear. The white-haired guy continued to convulse on the ground.
"The white haired guy there needs..." I began to say when suddenly, every one of the guards points his weapon at me and readies to fire. My cue to shut up.
A guard steps forward and announces that we are all under arrest. I'd argue, but I don't feel like losing an argument with a semi-automatic weapon, much less the lout that's pulling the trigger. They move in and shakle the lot of us, including the white-haired guy. Then the fun-happy trip to the gaol. I was glad that they got a stretcher for Whitey; he stopped moving just before they picked him up. I hope he was ok, 'cause he owed me one. A big one, too.
Thankfully, the guards must have recongnized my tattoo (or were being vindictive) and shoved me into my own cell. Quiet time; I hated these cells. They remind me of the stupid times; when I was just a stupid mover, getting into trouble over silly things like stealing rations, bloodying a nose, or breaking one of the myriad of rules that Sandozzi made when he got me. I sometimes stayed here for days, one time for almost a month, and then released. I felt so impotent, just sitting on my ass and waiting. It was that nagging feeling that stuff was going on and you weren't a part of it because you were here, and everyone else was free.
Free was relative, however. While I was in that cell, I thought I was free, just because I "volunteered" to be a freakin' time saver for Sandozzi and got part of my brain hacked out. And now I was in the cell...wasting my freedom. I laugh, looking back at it now, because I wasn't free. I was still a slave to that fat bastard, still his little monkey. Now, instead of moving Dynes with my hands, I was moving them with my mind. I was still his little mover...
I just hoped that Sandozzi was going to get me out of here and not punish me too much. At the time, I wasn't sure what he would do, but I think he would have beaten me within an inch of my life, implant or no implant.
It was night time when I was struck by an insane thought. I was trapped: on one hand, I wanted to get out of the gaol, but, on the other hand, I didn't want to go back to Sandozzi and just get the crap beaten out of me. Was there any way out of here?
As soon as I thought that, I heard a scratching at the door to my cell. The electronic panel started sparking and the door opened inward. So, it came down to this, eh, Sandozzi? Not even going to wait for me to come back to the camp to punish me? I figured that he'd sent someone to either do me in or he bribed the guards to have a go at me. Well, he wouldn't get off that easily! A figure moved quickly and quietly through the doorway towards me.
The guys about to start the fight just freeze; I don't move myself, but more out of curiosity to see what would happen next than fear. The white-haired guy continued to convulse on the ground.
"The white haired guy there needs..." I began to say when suddenly, every one of the guards points his weapon at me and readies to fire. My cue to shut up.
A guard steps forward and announces that we are all under arrest. I'd argue, but I don't feel like losing an argument with a semi-automatic weapon, much less the lout that's pulling the trigger. They move in and shakle the lot of us, including the white-haired guy. Then the fun-happy trip to the gaol. I was glad that they got a stretcher for Whitey; he stopped moving just before they picked him up. I hope he was ok, 'cause he owed me one. A big one, too.
Thankfully, the guards must have recongnized my tattoo (or were being vindictive) and shoved me into my own cell. Quiet time; I hated these cells. They remind me of the stupid times; when I was just a stupid mover, getting into trouble over silly things like stealing rations, bloodying a nose, or breaking one of the myriad of rules that Sandozzi made when he got me. I sometimes stayed here for days, one time for almost a month, and then released. I felt so impotent, just sitting on my ass and waiting. It was that nagging feeling that stuff was going on and you weren't a part of it because you were here, and everyone else was free.
Free was relative, however. While I was in that cell, I thought I was free, just because I "volunteered" to be a freakin' time saver for Sandozzi and got part of my brain hacked out. And now I was in the cell...wasting my freedom. I laugh, looking back at it now, because I wasn't free. I was still a slave to that fat bastard, still his little monkey. Now, instead of moving Dynes with my hands, I was moving them with my mind. I was still his little mover...
I just hoped that Sandozzi was going to get me out of here and not punish me too much. At the time, I wasn't sure what he would do, but I think he would have beaten me within an inch of my life, implant or no implant.
It was night time when I was struck by an insane thought. I was trapped: on one hand, I wanted to get out of the gaol, but, on the other hand, I didn't want to go back to Sandozzi and just get the crap beaten out of me. Was there any way out of here?
As soon as I thought that, I heard a scratching at the door to my cell. The electronic panel started sparking and the door opened inward. So, it came down to this, eh, Sandozzi? Not even going to wait for me to come back to the camp to punish me? I figured that he'd sent someone to either do me in or he bribed the guards to have a go at me. Well, he wouldn't get off that easily! A figure moved quickly and quietly through the doorway towards me.