Post by nebulaflare on Mar 9, 2014 7:44:33 GMT
The Consequence of Failure
Hawk Silverstone quietly walked out of the shuttle bay docks, hands clasped behind his back. He watched other members of the crew file out – talking, laughing, pulling out their PDAs and jotting down quick text messages. The crew had finished another shift, and they were heading home.
The airlock doors hissed open in front of the crowd, and people filed into the well lit hallway. Hawk edged closer to the side of the wall, to avoid bumping into anyone, and made his way to an empty metal chair in the lobby. He sat down, resting his hands on his lap. Hawk’s trained eyes scanned the civilian workers as they walked past, his eyes darting from one face to the next, reading the names that flashed over his HUD sunglasses.
He did not have to wait long. “Hawk Silverstone!”
Hawk immediately snapped to attention, standing up straight and turning on his heels to face the person who had called him. Without hesitation, he saluted the trio of men that stood in front of him – two of them were officials decked in proud navy blue military uniform, with a silver “N” clipped to their breast pockets. One official had blonde hair and stern blue eyes. He regarded Hawk with a curt nod. The other man was of Asian descent, and mimicked the other official’s demeanor.
The third person was very different from the other two, and much older. Wrinkles lined his face, and he had a head of gray hair, neatly combed back. Instead of the other men, his eyes were soft and kind. He carried a large trenchcoat in his arms, and a guest ID hung around his neck. He gave a friendly smile to Hawk.
Hawk didn’t falter, or drop his salute. He knew the two officials were showing him off. At the end of every shift they would follow the same procedure – call him to attention, have him salute, and have him hold it for a few moments. The civilian workers of Nanotransen would be able to see how well trained he was, despite his young age.
“At ease,” one of the officials finally ordered. Hawk quietly dropped his hands and folded them behind his back. Without another word, the two officials turned and started walking, and Hawk immediately followed. They allowed Hawk to catch up to them and walk in the center of the two officials, with one at each side of the young soldier. The third man followed as well, quietly fumbling with the guest ID that hung around his neck.
Hawk stole a quick glance of departures. People were going home. He would be escorted to a private shuttle that would take him to a research facility, at another part of the station. He glanced over to two girls, dressed as assistants and about his age, who were casually sitting in the lobby and playing music on their PDAs. They were watching him, and one of the girls quickly looked away when he saw them, and whispered something to her friend. The other girl giggled.
Hawk quickly snapped his gaze forward, his cheeks burning. Thankfully the rest of the walk to the shuttle passed without much incident. The only exception was having to avoid a ‘wet floor’ sign, and a janitor quietly picking up rubbish that had spewed out of a broken disposal chute. Hawk glanced curiously at her dark red hair, the same color as his. The janitor glanced at him, adjusting her glasses in doing so, before returning to her work of cleaning up the unfortunate mess.
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Hawk gripped his hands tightly behind his back, contracting his muscles, in a fruitless attempt to stop himself from shivering. A freezing gust of filtered air had rushed out of the pod doors, and had left his skin prickling.
The two officials that escorted Hawk seemed unaffected by the change in temperature, and headed straight into the private transport. The pod’s thick hull curved inward, forming a protective dome for its occupants. It was built to be small and compact, with little care for luxury. Grey floorboard tiles lined the base of the pod, elevating slightly off the pod’s belly. There were no windows inside, save for the bulletproof windshield at the cockpit. The cockpit itself was not separated by any doors or walls, and had two passenger seats positioned directly behind the pilot and copilot seats.
Hawk stepped forward, but immediately stopped when he felt the weight of a warm heavy trenchcoat drape over his shoulders. He smiled. “Thank you, sir,” he said, wiggling his stiff arms into the sleeves of the warm coat. “I appreciate it.”
“Master Hawk,” the voice replied behind him, “you must learn to stop calling me ‘Sir.’” The man next to him ducked into the pod, after Hawk. “Please,” he said, “to you, I am Victor.”
“Thank you, Victor,” Hawk replied with a nod, taking his seat behind one of the officials. He reached behind over his head and pulled out the seatbelt, securing it over his shoulders and buckling himself in. The two officials were already buckled in and were busy with pod’s controls. Victor sat down next to Hawk, buckling in just in time as the engines roared to life under their feet.
“How was your day, Master Hawk?” Victor asked, shifting in his seat. He pulled out a small package from the pocket of his coat, and handed it over to Hawk.
Hawk grinned, taking the gift. Victor would always spoil him. “Today was a bit interesting,” Hawk answered, carefully tearing off the wrapper with his teeth, and exposing the candy inside. “There were an infestation of…giant spiders,” he said. “I finally got to do something that felt productive, instead of watching cameras all shift.” He took bite of the candy, and the sweet chocolate and caramel stuck to the inside of his teeth. He poked it with his tongue. “I won’t lie,” he said, “I was kinda nervous when I had to crawl through the dark maintenance shafts alone, hunting for the spiders. Even though I had Beepsky and an energy gun, it was still unnerving.”
Victor raised his thin eyebrows. “I think I’d be nervous too,” he said.
“They’re not that scary out in the open,” Hawk said, taking another bite. “Then I can see them coming for me. The captain, well…I don’t know why the captain didn’t let me fight the spiders alone…”
“Oh?”
Hawk nodded. “She was a civilian captain, I guess. Even with a gun, one of the spiders managed to kill her. I wish she would have waited for me. She went ahead, and I didn’t get to her in time. She bled to death.” Hawk gave an annoyed sigh and took another bite of his treat.
Victor glanced over at Hawk. “Were you…hurt by the spiders?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, me? No, not really,” Hawk said. “One of them bit me in the leg, but Miss Yukimura was there. She patched it up.”
Victor nodded. “That’s good.”
Hawk grinned. “Kinda embarrassing, really. It was just a small bite. I know they’re venomous, but I didn’t need that much attention.” Hawk finished his candy, folding the wrapper in his hands. “I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But it didn’t hurt that much.”
“How was it embarrassing?” Victor asked. He held his palm out, gesturing to the candy wrapper. Hawk pressed it into his hands, and Victor stuffed the wrapper back in his pocket. “It can’t be embarrassing to receive treatment for a bite.”
“Well, she was just…flustered,” Hawk said. “She shoved me onto a roller bed, buckled me in, and wouldn’t let me get up until she pricked me with at least ten shots of anti toxin,” Hawk said. “In front of the captain and the psychiatrist.”
“The psychiatrist?”
Hawk shrugged. “The captain referred to her as a ‘bodyguard’. That’s another thing I don’t understand. Why did the captain give a psychiatrist an energy gun? Those things are lethal! And the captain brought her along to fight the spiders?”
“Perhaps she’s a capable fighter?” Victor inquired.
“I don’t think so,” Hawk said. “Not when she was almost mauled to death by the spider in the AI core. I mean, jeez.” Hawk shook his head. “The captain had a missing leg, walked with a cane, and needed to be supported by the psychiatrist. Who, by the way, was carrying an energy gun. And for some reason I don’t understand, the captain has all three of us – four if you count beepsky – go into a tiny little room to take on the last spider. We were trapped!”
“How so?”
“The captain ordered me to stand on the side and put beepsky in the front. The psychiatrist stood by the exit, and pretty much blocked the only way out. The spider went straight for the psychiatrist, and completely ignored beepsky. I couldn’t fire my gun, in fear of a loose bolt killing the captain or psychiatrist!”
Victor sighed. “Did she survive?”
“Barely,” Hawk replied. “I don’t understand. I was the only one in that room that was wearing any kind of armor. I was probably the only one who was even trained for combat. Why did the captain insist on letting the psychiatrist get a chance to shoot the spiders? She a civilian! She shouldn’t even have been in there, in the first place.”
“Did you point that out?” Victor asked.
“Oh yes, of course.” Hawk replied. “I tried to reason with the captain, but she refused to listen to me.”
Victor sighed. “I can’t say why she made those decisions, Master Hawk.”
Hawk gave a small shrug. “My best assumption is that they’re both civilians, and don’t fully understand the severity of the situation at hand. Similar to myself, when I try to interact with civilians. Sometimes, I don’t understand what’s going on.” Hawk shrugged. “Miyako did agree that their actions were short sighted – especially after the captain accidentally fired a taser shot at Miyako. I mean, if I left the safety off on my weapon, I’d get smacked in the face with a telebaton.”
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Hawk slowly walked down the empty corridors, dreading every step that took him closer to the double doors at the end of the hall. He kept his head up high and his eyes forward, but each step was forced and unwilling.
Best to get it over with…he sighed.
He stopped his march just shy of the doors. He clicked his heels together and waited, one hand tightly gripping the fingers of his other hand behind his back. The doors were imposing, made of cold metal, and painted with a single vertical blue strip that ran down the right side of the door. A mounted camera whirred above his head, pointing downward to observe who had approached. Hawk didn’t dare look up at the camera. It whirred and clicked, and continued to observe him. After what felt like an eternity, the doors hissed open.
Hawk clenched his teeth, hoping his tension wasn’t too obvious. He marched forward two steps, and stopped again. The metal doors hissed shut behind him, followed by the unmistakable click of the door bolts locking into place.
The room was bare – no windows and no furniture. Nothing lined the walls – not even a smudge of dirt. It was well lit, with the bright florescent lights lined along the ceiling. The whitewashed floor tiles reached each end of the walls, and in the very center was a simple yellow square.
An official stood at the other side of the room. He held a PDA in his hands, and was looking over the messages on the screen. “Hawk Silversone,” he finally spoke.
“Yes sir,” Hawk immediately replied.
“Two days ago, you were aboard the research station NSS Aurora. During your service, the station’s vault was breached, and several of its contents were found missing. Is that correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“And you do not know the current location of the atomic bomb, which was locked inside the vault?”
“No sir.”
The official looked up and glared at Hawk, who stood frozen in place. “Nor were you, or the security force, able to locate the culprit.”
Not even a question anymore. “No sir.” Hawk answered.
Without another word, the official clipped his PDA back on his belt. “Stand in the square,” he ordered.
Hawk complied, his feet seeming to move on his own. He walked forward and stepped on top of the square. He kept his eyes forward, back straight and head held high. Here it comes…
The official walked around the room, glaring at Hawk. “You were trained as a Delta Agent. I expect better than that.” Hawk made no response, resorting to pick a spot on the wall and focus on it.
Hawk tensed, hearing the click of the telebaton behind him. In one swift motion, the official slammed the baton into Hawk’s back, breaking the young soldier’s stance and forcing Hawk to double over. Hawk screamed, completely caught off guard.
“Straighten up!!” The official bellowed. Hawk immediately tried pulled himself back to attention, only to receive another blow of the baton against his backside. He staggered forward with a startled yell, losing the grip of his hands behind his back. “I said straighten up!!” the man barked. Hawk tried to comply, but the baton slammed into him again, leaving a searing pain against Hawk’s right forearm.
Hawk grit his teeth, desperately trying to straighten his posture. His backside burned in pain. The telebaton lashed out again, whacking him across his chest. Hawk yelled through his gritted teeth, which released into a full pained yell as the telebaton smashed into his kneecaps.
Hawk gasped. His mind was whirling. He blinked, looking up, just in time to see the official raise the thin black baton and slam it over Hawk’s face.
Hawk staggered backwards, his face exploding with pain. Blood dribbled down his nose and over his lips, dripping off his chin. Hawk raised his hand, trying to wipe the blood away, only to receive a painful crack against his wrist and chin.
“Stand straight!!” the official yelled. Hawk cried in pain, helplessly moving his hands back behind him. He shifted his wrist slightly, screaming in agony as the bones moved under his skin. The baton answered his yell, slamming into his shoulder, and then his backside. Hawk cried out, faltering in his stance and staggering forward. His eyes widened in horror as the toe of his boot accidentally landed outside of the square’s boundary.
The baton slammed into his calves, removing Hawk’s chances of regaining his stance. He buckled over in pain and fell forward, dropping to his knees, and supporting himself up with one hand. Another crack lashed across his back, followed by another, and another. One lashed across the back of his neck, another against his side. Hawk screamed, falling over.
Blood trickled down his arms and legs, seeping into his uniform and leaving crimson smudges on the once clean floor. Hawk wheezed in anguish, not daring to move. He was in too much pain to stand up again. He shut his eyes tight, burying his head under one arm. The telebaton lashed out again, hitting him on his shins. He screamed into the floor.
The telebaton clicked again, making him freeze in silent terror. It was only a moment before he realized the sound came from the telebaton collapsing. He hesitated, and chanced a look up, only to receive powerful kick across his forehead.
Hawk cried out as another swift kick slammed into his gut. The official finally took a step back. “Get the doctors in here,” he said, speaking into his earpiece.
The doors opened again, and the official stepped out. He wiped his bloodied baton with a small handkerchief, leaving the doors wide open. Two doctors were already hurrying down the hall, pulling a roller bed with them.
Hawk remained curled up on the floor, bleeding and wheezing in pain. The doctors dropped down next to him, running their handheld medical scanners over him, and injecting him with inaprovaline and dermaline – medicines that had been prepared in advance. Once they were certain he was stable, they gently lifted his limp body onto of the roller bed, strapped him in, and rushed off toward surgery.
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Hawk Silverstone quietly walked out of the shuttle bay docks, hands clasped behind his back. He watched other members of the crew file out – talking, laughing, pulling out their PDAs and jotting down quick text messages. The crew had finished another shift, and they were heading home.
The airlock doors hissed open in front of the crowd, and people filed into the well lit hallway. Hawk edged closer to the side of the wall, to avoid bumping into anyone, and made his way to an empty metal chair in the lobby. He sat down, resting his hands on his lap. Hawk’s trained eyes scanned the civilian workers as they walked past, his eyes darting from one face to the next, reading the names that flashed over his HUD sunglasses.
He did not have to wait long. “Hawk Silverstone!”
Hawk immediately snapped to attention, standing up straight and turning on his heels to face the person who had called him. Without hesitation, he saluted the trio of men that stood in front of him – two of them were officials decked in proud navy blue military uniform, with a silver “N” clipped to their breast pockets. One official had blonde hair and stern blue eyes. He regarded Hawk with a curt nod. The other man was of Asian descent, and mimicked the other official’s demeanor.
The third person was very different from the other two, and much older. Wrinkles lined his face, and he had a head of gray hair, neatly combed back. Instead of the other men, his eyes were soft and kind. He carried a large trenchcoat in his arms, and a guest ID hung around his neck. He gave a friendly smile to Hawk.
Hawk didn’t falter, or drop his salute. He knew the two officials were showing him off. At the end of every shift they would follow the same procedure – call him to attention, have him salute, and have him hold it for a few moments. The civilian workers of Nanotransen would be able to see how well trained he was, despite his young age.
“At ease,” one of the officials finally ordered. Hawk quietly dropped his hands and folded them behind his back. Without another word, the two officials turned and started walking, and Hawk immediately followed. They allowed Hawk to catch up to them and walk in the center of the two officials, with one at each side of the young soldier. The third man followed as well, quietly fumbling with the guest ID that hung around his neck.
Hawk stole a quick glance of departures. People were going home. He would be escorted to a private shuttle that would take him to a research facility, at another part of the station. He glanced over to two girls, dressed as assistants and about his age, who were casually sitting in the lobby and playing music on their PDAs. They were watching him, and one of the girls quickly looked away when he saw them, and whispered something to her friend. The other girl giggled.
Hawk quickly snapped his gaze forward, his cheeks burning. Thankfully the rest of the walk to the shuttle passed without much incident. The only exception was having to avoid a ‘wet floor’ sign, and a janitor quietly picking up rubbish that had spewed out of a broken disposal chute. Hawk glanced curiously at her dark red hair, the same color as his. The janitor glanced at him, adjusting her glasses in doing so, before returning to her work of cleaning up the unfortunate mess.
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Hawk gripped his hands tightly behind his back, contracting his muscles, in a fruitless attempt to stop himself from shivering. A freezing gust of filtered air had rushed out of the pod doors, and had left his skin prickling.
The two officials that escorted Hawk seemed unaffected by the change in temperature, and headed straight into the private transport. The pod’s thick hull curved inward, forming a protective dome for its occupants. It was built to be small and compact, with little care for luxury. Grey floorboard tiles lined the base of the pod, elevating slightly off the pod’s belly. There were no windows inside, save for the bulletproof windshield at the cockpit. The cockpit itself was not separated by any doors or walls, and had two passenger seats positioned directly behind the pilot and copilot seats.
Hawk stepped forward, but immediately stopped when he felt the weight of a warm heavy trenchcoat drape over his shoulders. He smiled. “Thank you, sir,” he said, wiggling his stiff arms into the sleeves of the warm coat. “I appreciate it.”
“Master Hawk,” the voice replied behind him, “you must learn to stop calling me ‘Sir.’” The man next to him ducked into the pod, after Hawk. “Please,” he said, “to you, I am Victor.”
“Thank you, Victor,” Hawk replied with a nod, taking his seat behind one of the officials. He reached behind over his head and pulled out the seatbelt, securing it over his shoulders and buckling himself in. The two officials were already buckled in and were busy with pod’s controls. Victor sat down next to Hawk, buckling in just in time as the engines roared to life under their feet.
“How was your day, Master Hawk?” Victor asked, shifting in his seat. He pulled out a small package from the pocket of his coat, and handed it over to Hawk.
Hawk grinned, taking the gift. Victor would always spoil him. “Today was a bit interesting,” Hawk answered, carefully tearing off the wrapper with his teeth, and exposing the candy inside. “There were an infestation of…giant spiders,” he said. “I finally got to do something that felt productive, instead of watching cameras all shift.” He took bite of the candy, and the sweet chocolate and caramel stuck to the inside of his teeth. He poked it with his tongue. “I won’t lie,” he said, “I was kinda nervous when I had to crawl through the dark maintenance shafts alone, hunting for the spiders. Even though I had Beepsky and an energy gun, it was still unnerving.”
Victor raised his thin eyebrows. “I think I’d be nervous too,” he said.
“They’re not that scary out in the open,” Hawk said, taking another bite. “Then I can see them coming for me. The captain, well…I don’t know why the captain didn’t let me fight the spiders alone…”
“Oh?”
Hawk nodded. “She was a civilian captain, I guess. Even with a gun, one of the spiders managed to kill her. I wish she would have waited for me. She went ahead, and I didn’t get to her in time. She bled to death.” Hawk gave an annoyed sigh and took another bite of his treat.
Victor glanced over at Hawk. “Were you…hurt by the spiders?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, me? No, not really,” Hawk said. “One of them bit me in the leg, but Miss Yukimura was there. She patched it up.”
Victor nodded. “That’s good.”
Hawk grinned. “Kinda embarrassing, really. It was just a small bite. I know they’re venomous, but I didn’t need that much attention.” Hawk finished his candy, folding the wrapper in his hands. “I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But it didn’t hurt that much.”
“How was it embarrassing?” Victor asked. He held his palm out, gesturing to the candy wrapper. Hawk pressed it into his hands, and Victor stuffed the wrapper back in his pocket. “It can’t be embarrassing to receive treatment for a bite.”
“Well, she was just…flustered,” Hawk said. “She shoved me onto a roller bed, buckled me in, and wouldn’t let me get up until she pricked me with at least ten shots of anti toxin,” Hawk said. “In front of the captain and the psychiatrist.”
“The psychiatrist?”
Hawk shrugged. “The captain referred to her as a ‘bodyguard’. That’s another thing I don’t understand. Why did the captain give a psychiatrist an energy gun? Those things are lethal! And the captain brought her along to fight the spiders?”
“Perhaps she’s a capable fighter?” Victor inquired.
“I don’t think so,” Hawk said. “Not when she was almost mauled to death by the spider in the AI core. I mean, jeez.” Hawk shook his head. “The captain had a missing leg, walked with a cane, and needed to be supported by the psychiatrist. Who, by the way, was carrying an energy gun. And for some reason I don’t understand, the captain has all three of us – four if you count beepsky – go into a tiny little room to take on the last spider. We were trapped!”
“How so?”
“The captain ordered me to stand on the side and put beepsky in the front. The psychiatrist stood by the exit, and pretty much blocked the only way out. The spider went straight for the psychiatrist, and completely ignored beepsky. I couldn’t fire my gun, in fear of a loose bolt killing the captain or psychiatrist!”
Victor sighed. “Did she survive?”
“Barely,” Hawk replied. “I don’t understand. I was the only one in that room that was wearing any kind of armor. I was probably the only one who was even trained for combat. Why did the captain insist on letting the psychiatrist get a chance to shoot the spiders? She a civilian! She shouldn’t even have been in there, in the first place.”
“Did you point that out?” Victor asked.
“Oh yes, of course.” Hawk replied. “I tried to reason with the captain, but she refused to listen to me.”
Victor sighed. “I can’t say why she made those decisions, Master Hawk.”
Hawk gave a small shrug. “My best assumption is that they’re both civilians, and don’t fully understand the severity of the situation at hand. Similar to myself, when I try to interact with civilians. Sometimes, I don’t understand what’s going on.” Hawk shrugged. “Miyako did agree that their actions were short sighted – especially after the captain accidentally fired a taser shot at Miyako. I mean, if I left the safety off on my weapon, I’d get smacked in the face with a telebaton.”
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Hawk slowly walked down the empty corridors, dreading every step that took him closer to the double doors at the end of the hall. He kept his head up high and his eyes forward, but each step was forced and unwilling.
Best to get it over with…he sighed.
He stopped his march just shy of the doors. He clicked his heels together and waited, one hand tightly gripping the fingers of his other hand behind his back. The doors were imposing, made of cold metal, and painted with a single vertical blue strip that ran down the right side of the door. A mounted camera whirred above his head, pointing downward to observe who had approached. Hawk didn’t dare look up at the camera. It whirred and clicked, and continued to observe him. After what felt like an eternity, the doors hissed open.
Hawk clenched his teeth, hoping his tension wasn’t too obvious. He marched forward two steps, and stopped again. The metal doors hissed shut behind him, followed by the unmistakable click of the door bolts locking into place.
The room was bare – no windows and no furniture. Nothing lined the walls – not even a smudge of dirt. It was well lit, with the bright florescent lights lined along the ceiling. The whitewashed floor tiles reached each end of the walls, and in the very center was a simple yellow square.
An official stood at the other side of the room. He held a PDA in his hands, and was looking over the messages on the screen. “Hawk Silversone,” he finally spoke.
“Yes sir,” Hawk immediately replied.
“Two days ago, you were aboard the research station NSS Aurora. During your service, the station’s vault was breached, and several of its contents were found missing. Is that correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“And you do not know the current location of the atomic bomb, which was locked inside the vault?”
“No sir.”
The official looked up and glared at Hawk, who stood frozen in place. “Nor were you, or the security force, able to locate the culprit.”
Not even a question anymore. “No sir.” Hawk answered.
Without another word, the official clipped his PDA back on his belt. “Stand in the square,” he ordered.
Hawk complied, his feet seeming to move on his own. He walked forward and stepped on top of the square. He kept his eyes forward, back straight and head held high. Here it comes…
The official walked around the room, glaring at Hawk. “You were trained as a Delta Agent. I expect better than that.” Hawk made no response, resorting to pick a spot on the wall and focus on it.
Hawk tensed, hearing the click of the telebaton behind him. In one swift motion, the official slammed the baton into Hawk’s back, breaking the young soldier’s stance and forcing Hawk to double over. Hawk screamed, completely caught off guard.
“Straighten up!!” The official bellowed. Hawk immediately tried pulled himself back to attention, only to receive another blow of the baton against his backside. He staggered forward with a startled yell, losing the grip of his hands behind his back. “I said straighten up!!” the man barked. Hawk tried to comply, but the baton slammed into him again, leaving a searing pain against Hawk’s right forearm.
Hawk grit his teeth, desperately trying to straighten his posture. His backside burned in pain. The telebaton lashed out again, whacking him across his chest. Hawk yelled through his gritted teeth, which released into a full pained yell as the telebaton smashed into his kneecaps.
Hawk gasped. His mind was whirling. He blinked, looking up, just in time to see the official raise the thin black baton and slam it over Hawk’s face.
Hawk staggered backwards, his face exploding with pain. Blood dribbled down his nose and over his lips, dripping off his chin. Hawk raised his hand, trying to wipe the blood away, only to receive a painful crack against his wrist and chin.
“Stand straight!!” the official yelled. Hawk cried in pain, helplessly moving his hands back behind him. He shifted his wrist slightly, screaming in agony as the bones moved under his skin. The baton answered his yell, slamming into his shoulder, and then his backside. Hawk cried out, faltering in his stance and staggering forward. His eyes widened in horror as the toe of his boot accidentally landed outside of the square’s boundary.
The baton slammed into his calves, removing Hawk’s chances of regaining his stance. He buckled over in pain and fell forward, dropping to his knees, and supporting himself up with one hand. Another crack lashed across his back, followed by another, and another. One lashed across the back of his neck, another against his side. Hawk screamed, falling over.
Blood trickled down his arms and legs, seeping into his uniform and leaving crimson smudges on the once clean floor. Hawk wheezed in anguish, not daring to move. He was in too much pain to stand up again. He shut his eyes tight, burying his head under one arm. The telebaton lashed out again, hitting him on his shins. He screamed into the floor.
The telebaton clicked again, making him freeze in silent terror. It was only a moment before he realized the sound came from the telebaton collapsing. He hesitated, and chanced a look up, only to receive powerful kick across his forehead.
Hawk cried out as another swift kick slammed into his gut. The official finally took a step back. “Get the doctors in here,” he said, speaking into his earpiece.
The doors opened again, and the official stepped out. He wiped his bloodied baton with a small handkerchief, leaving the doors wide open. Two doctors were already hurrying down the hall, pulling a roller bed with them.
Hawk remained curled up on the floor, bleeding and wheezing in pain. The doctors dropped down next to him, running their handheld medical scanners over him, and injecting him with inaprovaline and dermaline – medicines that had been prepared in advance. Once they were certain he was stable, they gently lifted his limp body onto of the roller bed, strapped him in, and rushed off toward surgery.
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