"In short, you are all property of the United Confederation, and of the U.C.S.V. Jessica."
Sounds of discontent echoed through the mess hall, confusion and anger brewing through the draftees. The sound of assault rifle actions being racked around the group served to quench any thoughts of revolution.
Silence fell across the room as the speaker cleared his throat. "Move along the yellow lines to the holodeck induction. Follow the instructions of the crewmen or be subject to immediate execution."
The armed men around them stepped forward in unison with thunderous purpose, bringing the group to their feet.
As the group formed into lines, Georgia found herself one of the unlucky firsts. The other two in front of her looked even more terrified.
When she first received the draft letters, she expected it to be easy. Easier than homelessness, at least. Three square meals, a cot to sleep in in exchange for hard work. Looking around, however, she understood why none of the draftees she knew had ever come back.
As they walked along the metal grate the line forced the draftee into the holodeck. The heavy doors slid closed with a hiss. Georgia could have sworn she heard screams, but convinced herself that it was only ship noise.
"Psssst, hey..." She looked up to the man in front. "Hey...?"
"Don't draw attention," Georgia shot back. "They'll kill us, and I have no intention of dying on some UCon slag heap."
"They can't stop us if we're armed. See the guy by the door?" The man tilted his head towards the crewman standing beside the holodeck door. The crewman barely moved at all, even to breathe or adjust balance. His stillness unnerved Georgia.
"Nah... That guy's spec ops, must be."
"That rifle might be our only hope of escape." The man paused, weighing his life against the prospect of freedom. "I'm gonna do it. When I come out of the holodeck I'm making a move. Back me up. Or don't."
Before Georgia could reply, the holodeck doors slid open. The unlucky first draftee, previously shitting themselves, was calm and orderly. They walked to the crewman by the door, took their uniform and departed without a word. The man in front practically strolled into the holodeck, seemingly prepared to face whatever UCon could throw at him. Georgia wished she had even a tenth of his bravado.
As the doors closed, Georgia stood at the front of the line and counted. Something was happening inside; perhaps knowing how long she had to hold out would help her resist. But perhaps she wouldn't have to. Perhaps the man's determination would save them all. Maybe this nightmare could have a quick conclusion.
As she counted sixty seconds, she learned salvation would not come at the hands of a hero with a gun. As with the first draftee, the doors opened, revealing a man who oozed calm. Like the first, he marched to the crewman by the chamber, took an uniform and left without a word. Georgia turned to watch the man leave. Despite her bewilderment, the man didn't break stride.
