Part 11: Payton – English; Village of the Warrior
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
If there was ever a time that Dominic wanted to take back everything he had said, now was definitely the time.
He struggled to open his eyes, disillusioned with the fog of confusion in his brain. What had happened? One moment he had been screaming at Will, and then the next he was lying face down in the desert. His head hurt, and he could feel dried blood down his jaw and ear.
They were all on their knees, hands locked above their heads, eyeing the two guards that had taken them into captivity just moments ago. No one had seen them coming, all too preoccupied with Nic's belligerently defiant speech, and now he was eating his words ... literally. The gag the one blonde woman had put in his mouth was anything but comfortable.
The two women were several feet away, talking candidly, but no one was able to hear a word. They were careful to keep their voices down.
There had been plenty of times in his past where the need to redo a certain moment in time had arisen, and most were because of something he had said or did. He had a serious impulse control problem. And that was putting it mildly.
What Nic really wanted to do was go back five minutes in time and undo what he had just done. They had come so far. Cantu was supposed to be the place that they were to seek refuge, not be taken prisoner minutes after landing. Somehow, by the grace of ... whoever ... they had actually escaped Cyrus's men, and had landed on Cantu safely. The final part of their plan might have worked, too, if it hadn't been for Nic's big mouth and attitude.
After lifting himself from the sand, leaning heavily on his left leg, Nic turned slightly to his right, taking in Rylie, Bo, and Devlin's position. All three were every bit upset and sore towards him. Devlin and Bo wouldn't even look at him, even though he was certain they could feel his eyes on them. Rylie didn't look at much of anything but the supplies just to her right.
He caught movement out of his right eye and followed it, seeing Alec behind him. He only met the man's eyes briefly, and then Alec returned to his attempt at loosening the rope around his wrists.
Nic turned straight, and could see Koen just ahead of him. His posture was the same as all the others, sitting on his heels with his hands behind his head, tied with rope.
Will was to Koen's right, and from what Nic could tell, was trying to make out what the two women were saying.
Isabel was to Nic's left, with Mabyn close by. And that's when he felt it.
Oh God,
he thought.
Mabyn.
He hadn't had much of a chance to worry about her before through the haze of being knocked on the head and coming to in a cloud of confusion and pain, lying face down in the sand. He knew he had only been out for a few minutes. But in those minutes, he could see that Mabyn had been tied also. Her hands were bound but they were on her lap, not behind her head. She was crying silent tears, more out of fear than anything else, Nic hoped anyway.
She huddled near Isabel, who was valiantly trying to smile at the child and speak softly to her, having not being gagged like him. He noted that none of the others were gagged, and rightfully so. No one else had been as stupid as he had, leading an enemy right to them.
Isabel turned then towards him. She cast a look in his direction, but it wasn't anger or resentment. It was worse. Disappointment. She slowly shook her head, her golden blonde hair hanging slightly in the soft, desert breeze, and then turned her attention back to Mabyn.
He sighed heavily. He would do anything to make the situation right. This was the last thing he wanted for any of them, especially for Mabyn ... and Koen and Isabel and William. Hell, for any of the survivors. They were like a family now, banding together to try and survive another day. And in that one reckless moment no more than ten minutes ago, he had crashed and burned all of their hopes of survival. He felt like the idiotic teenager who stole the keys from his parents and ended up crashing the hovercraft into a parked ship, which by the way, he had done ... twice.
He wasn't even sure why he had lost his cool so easily, or why he had a history of it. When he was younger, he would frequently find himself being punished for something he did or said, and later he couldn't understand why he had acted or said the things he did. It was as if his mouth would say the words, and his brain struggled to keep up. He never thought the bad habit would turn out to be so destructive. He never thought that it would possible mean his death. Not to mention everyone around him.
Yet again, his mouth had gotten not only him, but also everyone around him, in trouble. God help him if they did somehow get out of this. There was no telling what they would do to him. He was quite certain he would prefer death to Will's brand of punishment.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What's goin' on?" Mabyn asked quietly.
"I'm not sure sweetie." Isabel had absolutely no idea how she was suppose to explain to a ten year old how much trouble they were all in, or why they were in it, or how they were going to get out of it. One thing was for sure ... she wasn't going to offer any information. She didn't want to have to openly lie to the frightened girl in front of her. That, and she was going to kill Nic as soon as the opportunity arose. Okay, so two things were for sure.
She had actually been surprised when the woman soldier with the longer hair and green-blue eyes who had tied her and Mabyn up had been quite social with the little girl, asking questions and giving a small smile. It had almost seemed as if the woman took no pleasure in her task. But Mabyn had been too scared to say much of anything. When the woman had asked if Isabel was Mabyn's mother, all Mabyn could do was stare with big, teary eyes and tuck herself further into Isabel's tunic.
It had been that question, and not Nic's unbelievably impossible stupidity, that had rocked Isabel more than anything. She had never thought that anyone would assume that Isabel was Mabyn's mother. They looked alike, she supposed. Their eyes were the same color, and they did appear to have similar facial structure. Their mouths and lips were alike, and Mabyn's height at a young age was also an indicator. Not to mention that Mabyn had been plastered to Isabel's side since their introduction back on Aevar.
But their attitudes and personalities were like day and night. Where Isabel had confidence to spare, Mabyn was timid and uncertain. She supposed that wasn't entirely true. Her confidence was almost always a façade of some sort, whether it was to hide her insecurity or to intimidate any surrounding individuals. But in all fairness, anyone in the position of a captive would be scared, and Isabel's attempt at maintaining her confidence and hiding her fear was wearing thin. The only reason her resolve hadn't broken yet was because of Mabyn ...
and
the fact that she was quite certain she could single-handedly take out the guard on the right.
"Well ... what are they doin'?" She hoped Isabel wouldn't get mad at her for asking so many questions. But she was really scared. Seeing Nic lying asleep in the sand with blood coming out of his ear was probably the most frightening thing she had ever seen. If Isabel hadn't tried to soothe her, she would have screamed and cried ... like what she did back home during the bombings, before Nic had found her. After her mom had put her behind the counter of the shop to hide, and had never come back. After she had gone out looking for her mom, and instead found so many bodies on the ground. Her mom's body being one of them.
Now that Nic was awake, she felt better. For a while, she was afraid he would never wake up, like her mom. But he was looking at her now, with big eyes. It looked like he was trying to say something, but there was a piece of white cloth in his mouth, and all of his words were muffled.
She waited for Isabel to answer, trying to keep one eye on her, one on Nic, and one on the two women talking just a few feet away. Her head hurt trying to see everything.
Isabel shook her head hating the fact that she had to answer a question she didn't know the answer to. Her patience with the two guards was wearing thinner by the second. "I'm sorry sweetie. I just don't know. But we'll be okay. I promise, Mabyn. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."
Mabyn didn't say much of anything after that. Instead, snuggling into the older woman, she closed her eyes, wishing that Isabel could put her arms around her like she had in the cave.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"So, what are we gonna do now?" she asked offhandedly.
"How the hell should I know? I've never taken prisoners before. You're the soldier."
"Oh, that's rich. Blame the one with five weeks training. For the record, I never made it out of basic; those masochistic assholes burned down the village before I could take the final test."
Payton sighed heavily. "Come on Cora. You're better at this than me. We were just supposed to scout. Aron didn't say anything about prisoners or interrogation. We're not trained for it."
"No shit. Just give me a minute," Cora said. Her short blonde hair was plastered to her pale face from the heat and sweat. Her bandana hung in the wind, tied around her forehead, and the long red tales hung low on her back. Her clothes were dirty and torn and tight on her thin body, signs of struggle and battle, signs of a soldier hard at work. Despite her warrior appearance, the laser gun in her hand had only been fired once outside of training. Once, since the Neroan soldiers overtook their small planet and raided the villages and ports. She was saving her firepower for the revenge she so desperately wanted.
At first, she had assumed, along with Payton, that the small group of people in front of her was Neroan. No other visitors had entered the planet since the formal agreement made weeks before. She didn't know why King Eamon had agreed to give Cantu to Cyrus. And frankly, she didn't care anymore. She had survived extended, countless weeks hidden in caves with the other refugees. She was a small part of a larger whole on Cantu. If it hadn't been for Aron, Cora was very sure she would have been dead long ago, despite her brief stint as a soldier.
"Tell ya what," she started. "We ask them where they're from. Try and get some information out of them." When she saw Payton give her a skeptical look, "Court, look. They have a kid with 'em. Do you really thing Neroan soldiers would travel with a kid?" She shook her head at her own question. "It doesn't make any sense. I really don't think they're here to hurt us. Remember what the one loudmouth said? They didn't know that Cantu had been raided. They can't be Neroan."
"Yeah," Payton said, pondering Cora's words. "So, who do we talk to?"
Cora thought for a moment. "The loudmouth called that big fella 'fearless leader.' I guess he's the one we should try first." Without looking behind her towards the survivors, she added, "He's been staring at us for the past fifteen minutes. He obviously wants some information."
Payton looked over Cora's shoulder to the one they were talking about, and sure enough ... he was eyeing them keenly. She shot Cora a surprised look, "How do you do that?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Spending years in my mom's shop. You have to grow eyes in the back of your head to catch the shoplifters. Ready?" she asked, knowing that Payton was anything but.
"Yeah. But, um ... you do most of the talkin', all right? You know ... good cop, bad cop."
"Yeah, okay. I like being bad anyways," Cora agreed with a wink.
They turned to the small group in front of them, and neared whom they assumed was the leader. Cora displayed her laser gun in her hands, and a smirk on her face, clearly unfazed by the man's hostile behavior towards them.
"You willin' to talk?" she asked him offhandedly.
"Who the fuck are you?" he asked ardently, without preamble. Koen shook his head.
Cora gave Payton a look, and then turned to Will and said, "Look buddy. You are on our planet. We ask the questions. First, who are
you
