Snippet #2687239

The golden fire-lights of the under-Citadel shun through the uneven glass of their cages, illuminating Mirova's face beneath her crinkled Meltsander hood. Sparks and firelight from the automated machines repairing the damaged machinery of the war, Taqa crystals glowing in their backs.

"That's how you win wars," Mirova whispered, glancing up at Musa who sat across from her in their cage. The senior woman smiled as her head bobbed with the wagon's movement. "No mercy."

Skullivan swallowed as he walked in front of the cage, it feeling like they were marching deeper and deeper into the heart of Aklar invention. Outside the Citadel the people of the clan struggled to keep their stomachs full and their huts operational from the war-time damage received, but inside the Citadel it was clear a stronghold of Aklar ingenuity still existed.

Skullivan rose an eyebrow hesitantly as their guide, Rowlen, dismissed Uluru's question about payment once again. He glanced to Xaverius, who marched beside him disguised in mercenary gear. "...The further down we're led... the less I like this situation," He whispered to the man.

Skullivan watched as the man, Rowlen, pointed to the lift to their side - separating them from the prisoners. With a hesitant sigh Skullivan began to walk away with his other teammates disguised as mercenaries, looking back at the cages they left behind. "I hope we don't regret this," He muttered under his breath, stepping onto the other lift. With a blast of air it began to rise, the cages disappearing out of view behind them....