[PS] Barracks

[Aero]

?What is your current location, P12??

?I?m taking the suspect down the elevator to the barracks, copy that.?

?Has he been pardoned??

?Confirmed.?

?All right.?

?Yeah, P13?s with me.?

?Copy that.?


The elevator doors opened, scraping against the doorway; years of rust had taken its toll. The figures stood strong within the confines of the elevator. One of them was shackled with handcuffs?on his wrists and ankles?and the other two stood on each side of him, their hands firmly grasping his arms. They exited the elevator.

Gokua was the arrested fellow, and the other two figures were DA guards. The larger of the two?on Gokua?s left side?was an over-exaggerated meathead. His muscles bulged from their positions and his chest poked out like a proud hooker. His head was completely bald, shaven by an old fashion flip-out razor. Sunglasses shielded and shrouded his eyes. They were cheap, the dollar store kind.

The fellow on Gokua?s other side was the average man. His hair was cut close, but there was enough remaining for his wife to yank on during sex?a corn color. His eyes, unlike his coworker?s, were not veiled behind sunglasses; they were a sky blue. His muscles were big as well, but not nearly as steroid-created as the other.

Sporadic messages screamed out of the walkie-talkie on the larger guard?s shoulder. It was the same voice Gokua heard from the elevator. It was a sweet voice, one that reminded the Pathosian of a calming operator working night-shift for 911.


?Have you reached the barracks yet??

?Confirmed.? The bulky guard had a predictable I-want-to-be-a-badass voice, mixed with some grunting.

Gokua?s eyes were set straight, gazing forward at what seemed to an eternity of cots. Fellow DA contestants lay in their cots reading various books on the competition itself, hopelessly searching for that edge.

The guards urged Gokua forward, tugging on his arms to turn him in particular directions. Gokua cooperated.

?You?re lucky that you?ve been pardoned for killing that other contestant,? the meathead remarked.

?You?re lucky that I feel like cooperating,? Gokua replied with an easy grin spreading across his face.

The other guard looked over at the arrogant alien as they began to walk slower. ?Hey fella, just keep the mood good and we?ll be done with ya?.?

?Good cop bad cop? Wait, no, asshole cop and cool cop??

The larger guard grabbed his walkie-talkie and tugged it closer to his mouth. ?Where are we taking this guy exactly? The douche is pissing me off.?

?A bit further?to cot number eight.?

?Copy that.?

?Bill,? the meathead said, ?Take him to cot eight. I can?t stand this asshole any longer.?

?Gotcha? John,? he replied.

John removed his hand from Gokua?s arm and walked away, back to that elevator.

?So . . .? John glanced over at the swordsman. ?Think you could find your way to that cot??

?Of course.?

?All right then, it?s settled. I?ll let you walk there.?

?Awesome.?

Bill then released Gokua?s arm and drew a key from his pocket. Quickly, he unlocked the shackles on Gokua?s wrists and ankles, then left. The swordsman brought his hand together and caressed his wrists with the opposite hand, easing away the slight pain.

Gokua looked at his cot. It had been made quite nicely. The spread was without a wrinkle and folded back right where the pillow was placed. Not bad. Gokua noticed a small pocket hanging from the side of the bed. It was holstering another manual, the manual he received when signing up. He picked it up and lay on the bed.




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OOC: Feel free to interact with Gokua. =o