Ascension Open

For years in the city of Dominus genetically altered slaves have served the needs of man. But now they're rising up, now they're fighting back, they're becoming more than slaves...

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Owner: gururumon916
Game Masters: gururumon916
Tags: post-apocalyptic, rebellion, science fiction, slaves, superhuman (Add Tags »)

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Setting: Dominus City2010-11-04 19:14:12, as written by Kurokiku
Amalia sighed to herself. She'd awoken that very morning with the feeling that this was going to be one of those long days... and so far nothing had been so kind as to prove her wrong. Karash shot her a look, and she flashed a reassuring smile, telling him without words not to worry on her account. It was just... the poor rank-and-file who'd been put in charge of feeding the prisoners was afraid for his life, enough so to come to his Captain about it, and she wasn't going to force him to continue the task if he truly didn't think he could handle it.

Which meant, that at least for now, she'd be handling it herself. If she wished to have it reassigned to someone else, she'd have to go a few ranks up, and doubtless those people would not be particularly happy to deal with such a small matter. Ah well, it was not as though she herself generally feared the prisoners; caution was certainly advisable with a few, but for the most part seeing them just made her heartsick. Her own emotions would not stop her from making sure they were fed, though, and that was why she and Karash were presently burdened down with carts of food and water. At a little cajoling from the youngest officer at the Colosseum, the cook had been happy to provide just about anything she asked for, and as a result the meals were a little better today than they usually be.

Entering the Western Cell Block, Amalia was surprised to discover that it was unusually occupied. Besides the prisoners (who were normally far too may to a cell anyway) and the standard regiment of guards, both the Lieutenant and the visiting woman scientist were here also, plus someone she didn't recognize. The scientist was understandable enough; if data-collection were her job, then she'd need to go to it, but...

"Lieutenant," Amalia acknowledged with a salute, made slightly difficult by the sheer volume of things she was contending with. But she wasn't one to violate respect protocols, and thus it was necessary. Nodding to the woman (though she was not sure if she had even noticed her entrance), she began the arduous process of food distribution. Arduous, simply because each cell had to have its barrier momentarily disabled to allow her entrance, and then re-enabled when she left. Luckily, most of these cells were pretty standard, but there were a few top-security ones as well. The worst of these, the one holding the person they called ZAR, was the first, simply because it would take the longest to deal with.

Accepting the rations and water from Karash, Amalia watched as the electromagnetic field, the last of the defenses to fall, was disabled. Technically, he could choose to attempt escape now, but that horrifying contraption they had attached to his head would probably make that difficult. She suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine at the sight of it. A cruel-looking device; she tried to reassure herself that it would never be used unless he tried to run. Never once did it cross her mind that someone might actually enjoy using it to hurt the man contained, but in reality this was a possibility.

The young woman moved with the sort of slow fluidity that generally made her seem the furthest thing from a threat, which was largely true, at least comparatively. Many of these prisoners would have seen her in the injury ward at some point as well, given her cover as a nurse, but there was still no reason to be careless. Setting the rations down, she offered a small dip of her head in acknowledgment, and exited the cell backwards, so that her eyes would not leave the person within.

This pattern would continue down the line of cells until she reached the largest, lowest-security one, also the one with the most prisoners. Here, she would look to Karash for assistance, and the large furred man would simply take up a number of plates himself and follow her in. At least one of these faces was new, she noted. Unlike most, Amalia kept track of who came and went from this place, and knew an unfamiliar face when she saw one. As always, she felt compelled to say something, and looked at the man as if to speak, but the words died on her lips, and she shook her head slowly to herself. What was she supposed to say, anyway? Welcome? Good day to you? Anything that would have applied to other situations was utterly inappropriate here, and she retreated once more out the door.