“What happened in there, soldier?” The sergeant nodded toward the concrete cell behind them.
Vince needed to find his voice, he knew that. Any voice would do. He stood in silence, his eyes trained on the sergeant’s scuffed boots. A regimen doctor was examining the body – her body – no doubt trying to confirm her death, rather than the very obvious cause of it.
“She’s dead.” The doctor handed the palm-sized monitor to the sergeant to inspect.
Doctor Zidane looked up at Vince, his expression a combination of reproach and compassion. Vince was not someone who bonded easily with others, but the doctor had become a close friend over the few short months since Vince’s transfer to the medical wing. The doctor, despite being an honourable man, was however a loyalist. Vince was sure that the doctor’s pity would not be misplaced; he would have earned it before the day had drawn to an end.
“Thank you, doctor. I will expect a detailed report before the end of your shift.” The sergeant’s tone was one of dismissal; clearly the doctor’s findings did not interest him half as much as the reason for her unscheduled demise. “Retrieve the last memories stored on her bio-chip.”
“I will have it to you AQAP, Sergeant.”
“Soldier, what happened in there?” The sergeant’s voice carried a trace of impatience; he was clearly not accustomed to insolent behavior from his subordinates.
Vince’s eyes lifted until they locked on those of his former sergeant – for at the least, he would be stripped of his rank, possibly discharged dishonourably from the Tauric Imperial Army once the incident report had been processed. “As the doctor said, Sir, she is dead.”
“Take him away.”
A soldier he had once shared a pod with cuffed him. Another whose life he had helped save a week before led him away. Neither showed even a trace of emotion.
Vince had not had the luxury of considering the dire consequences of his unsanctioned action in the brief moments before her demise. Would he have acted differently given the chance to think things through? Granted he’d never been much of a thinker, he had after all been bred and raised for one purpose and that purpose alone - to carry out the orders with which he had been programed. In that moment, his future was no longer clear, but the one certainty was that he would have ample time to reflect.
He’d heard it told that irony did not often hold as much humour as the teaching programs suggested, yet the mere irony of having that one statement proven true with his very first taste of irony brought a smile to his lips, if not his heart. He had done her bidding so she could be free, yet here he was, being marched toward a cell across the hall from where she had spent her entire life as the state’s most treasured prisoner.
Vince needed to find his voice, he knew that. Any voice would do. He stood in silence, his eyes trained on the sergeant’s scuffed boots. A regimen doctor was examining the body – her body – no doubt trying to confirm her death, rather than the very obvious cause of it.
“She’s dead.” The doctor handed the palm-sized monitor to the sergeant to inspect.
Doctor Zidane looked up at Vince, his expression a combination of reproach and compassion. Vince was not someone who bonded easily with others, but the doctor had become a close friend over the few short months since Vince’s transfer to the medical wing. The doctor, despite being an honourable man, was however a loyalist. Vince was sure that the doctor’s pity would not be misplaced; he would have earned it before the day had drawn to an end.
“Thank you, doctor. I will expect a detailed report before the end of your shift.” The sergeant’s tone was one of dismissal; clearly the doctor’s findings did not interest him half as much as the reason for her unscheduled demise. “Retrieve the last memories stored on her bio-chip.”
“I will have it to you AQAP, Sergeant.”
“Soldier, what happened in there?” The sergeant’s voice carried a trace of impatience; he was clearly not accustomed to insolent behavior from his subordinates.
Vince’s eyes lifted until they locked on those of his former sergeant – for at the least, he would be stripped of his rank, possibly discharged dishonourably from the Tauric Imperial Army once the incident report had been processed. “As the doctor said, Sir, she is dead.”
“Take him away.”
A soldier he had once shared a pod with cuffed him. Another whose life he had helped save a week before led him away. Neither showed even a trace of emotion.
Vince had not had the luxury of considering the dire consequences of his unsanctioned action in the brief moments before her demise. Would he have acted differently given the chance to think things through? Granted he’d never been much of a thinker, he had after all been bred and raised for one purpose and that purpose alone - to carry out the orders with which he had been programed. In that moment, his future was no longer clear, but the one certainty was that he would have ample time to reflect.
He’d heard it told that irony did not often hold as much humour as the teaching programs suggested, yet the mere irony of having that one statement proven true with his very first taste of irony brought a smile to his lips, if not his heart. He had done her bidding so she could be free, yet here he was, being marched toward a cell across the hall from where she had spent her entire life as the state’s most treasured prisoner.
