The darkness of the old sealed tunnel was just what Oz wanted after the ordeal that had passed. It was like the quiet after a midnight storm. He sighed and looked around, his head piece drawn back so it was an open hood.
The concrete closest to the old transit line that once led to the space station terminal had aged badly, the cracks in the ceiling allowed moisture to drip, the big metal magnetic ties that had been pulled up so they could properly wall the tunnel up were once piled but had settled and were strewn out. Tons of metal, just left down here to rot for God only knows how long. I wonder what the crews who sealed this place would think if they knew that these old holes would save our lives. He thought to himself as he eyed the well lit double service doors further down the cavernous tunnel. They had been pried open and scouted hours ago. Where Dementia's knowledge of the old tunnels ended Alaka's began. The nafalli had been through most of the tunnels before while exterminating rim weasels and he led them straight to a forgotten maintenance access that could take them into the spaceport. The disused service hallways let out right behind a small West Keeper outpost, all that lay between them and the main lower landing platforms and hangars. The Clever Dream was waiting, and he hoped it would be ready soon.
In the division of command he had drawn the shortest straw. Ayan was to keep the lines of communication open between herself and Jake or Alaka, Jason was always busy gathering information about what the enemy was doing while he kept a line to Dementia open, and he was to try and keep in touch with everyone they left behind as he managed the refugees and rebels who had come with them.
His job was the most depressing of the lot. The last transmission from the survivors they had left behind was nothing but panic, screams and a plea for help. Dementia had kept trying to connect to the machines they'd left behind with the refugees with no success.
Both he and Jason tried to warn the refugees that the Holocaust Virus would take over completely, that it wasn't safe to keep anything controlled by an artificial intelligence near or in the camp. Yves wouldn't acknowledge their attempts at communication and if anyone heard their general broadcasts through local channels there was no indication.
When it happened less than two hours later the androids and artificial life driven service machines lashed out in a sudden flash of violence as though they were taking vengeance for being forced to switch sides. He'd seen it himself, one of the resistance fighters opened a video link just as it started, begging for help of some kind, a new patch or a means of escape.
Few things phased him, Oz was a trained soldier, he'd seen the All-Con Conflict as a member of a marine unit, gone on actual boarding actions and commanded a cloak ship in the middle of a war zone with one mission; to hunt down and destroy the enemy. The sounds of civilians and rebels alike being ruthlessly cut down at close range was beyond anything he'd experienced. When the screams started on his communicator he only looked at the video portion of the transmission for a moment before turning it off.
There was nothing they could do, the refugees and resistance fighters had surrounded themselves with the combat, security and assistance bots that Dementia had freed. They were inside the camp attending the wounded, mending broken equipment, even assisting them in their plans to fend off the West Watch.
Telling the people who had followed them into the transit tunnels was hard. He didn't show his own grief, only delivered the information as accurately and as gently as possible. He didn't give false hope, he answered questions directly and he allowed the group to comfort each other. It was all in his officer's training, but to those who left friends they had made while defending the barricades behind it just didn't feel like enough. He wanted to offer them his sympathy, tell them that there was still some chance that someone made it out, that if they mounted a rescue mission there would be something to recover, but none of it was true so he had nothing but the hard, cold facts. The few who felt motivated to mount a rescue mission had to be told, over and over again, that there was no chance of survival. When that didn't work he played back the recording, let them hear the screams for themselves.
No one blamed Ayan, Jason or himself. That was a relief but little comfort. Many of them blamed Dementia and even Oz was led to wonder why he hadn't said anything about his countermeasures to the Holocaust Virus not being a permanent solution to Yves and the other resistance leaders. He had to put that aside, however. It wasn't something he had time to ponder and if there was anyone who was better suited to solve that puzzle it was Jason. His officer training came in handy once more; Dementia and the Clever Dream were their ticket off of Pandem so he went to work reassuring people that Yves had been warned, that Dementia had done everything he could have. It was a lie, but one that might hold them together until they were safely away.
It was difficult to raise spirits, but there were other facts to offer. A group of seasoned rebels and refugees were on their way. At the head of the group was Alaka; someone who knew more about these tunnels than everyone combined and had been responsible for directing them away from the overtaken refugee barricade. Beside him was their old friend; Jacob Valance, a well known bounty hunter and privateer. They were waiting for them so they could get to a ship with a cloaking device and an artificial intelligence that could fight off the holocaust virus. Those were the facts that, after they had a few minutes to mourn, Ayan, Jason and himself started to quietly remind them of. “We're getting out of here soon,” he reassured.
When things finally quieted down he found the most peaceful spot he could. He sat on an upturned block of broken concrete beside the sealed protective bag that held Minh-Chu Buu in suspended animation. Behind them was the thick concrete wall that had been erected ages before to block the tunnel off from the old spaceport receiving station.
As he opened a meal bar he couldn't help but remember his captivity on the Overlord II. “You know, no matter how good these ration bars taste, what they do with the texture, they'll always remind me of the condensed sludge chunks they fed us on that ship,” he chewed through that first bite slowly, enjoying the dark quiet. “It's funny, you kept calling yourself crazy, even back in the sims before I had met you, and I really didn't believe you were a little touched in the head until you hit the afterburners on that heap we escaped that ship on. You should have seen our faces, most us looked like they thought the thing would tear itself to pieces,” Oz couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. “But then Jonas climbed into one of those ball turrets and I wasn't sure who was crazier. I wasn't far behind though, so there's no telling who gets the nutso prize. I felt so alive when we were on the First Light, like every moment counted for something. Even when we recorded a report we knew someone we'd run into on the ship would read it, it wasn't going to some stiff functionary or assessment program who we'd never meet. I'll never forget Jason's face when he saw the first one you recorded in the shower. He couldn't stop laughing for I don't know how long and all he said when we came to look was; 'he could have just recorded the audio!'”
Oz worked his way through another bite of his meal bar as he thought back. “You know, I barely knew you. Even in all the sims we went on before the First Light. You were so busy down on the flight deck when we got aboard I didn't have much time then either, but I tell ya it's not the same out here without you. Jonas is Jacob now, and he's seen and done some dark things if the holo archives are any indication, but when I saw you and Ayan I knew that if there were two people who could bring him back, remind him of who he really is regardless of everything he might have done out here in the dark, it would be you two. I'm just a soldier, but wherever you and Ayan go there's some kind of spark, rooms light up.” He sighed as he chewed through another bite. “Besides, after what you've been through you deserve to be where you want to be. Maybe we all deserve a little piece of what we had back,” he looked at the last bite of his meal replacement bar as he swallowed the preceding bite. “There's gotta be a better way to package emergency food. Ah well, quiet time's almost-” he started to say before he was interrupted by a sound, the smallest of sounds behind him.
He turned the audio receptors up on his comm unit and was instantly rewarded. The sounds of four running, booted feet were just on the other side of that wall and they were moving away. “Duck and cover!” he shouted as he dropped what was left of his meal bar, grabbed Minh in his protective vacbag, and ran a few meters to stop behind an upturned hunk of concrete.
The wall sealing the tunnel off exploded in a sudden heave of heavy brick, mortar and dirt.