Worthless Flesh

It was the brig, deep within the most secured vaults of the angular Caldari control tower hosting the operations centre for Awakened Industries, where the uncompromisingly functional engineering of the State's corporations manifested it's full effect. Stark, forbidding, impersonal and bland as the surroundings were, a prisoner would be worn down by the sheer lack of stimulus.

The captives occupying the cells seemed to be oblivious to their surroundings, though. All of them knelt in regular arrays as if in prayer. Their heads were downcast and their faces hidden by the large hoods of their heavy overcoats made from oily, black synthetic material. Two very dissimilar characters were watching over them.

One was a man barely looking old enough to be called that. He had the fine, comely features of an adolescent, but his eyes told another story. His gray and black uniform with off-white highlights marked him as Gallente Federal Navy, but he wore no insignia. He sat at the security station with the habitual ease of someone used to such duties.

His opposite was a woman of long-limbed athletic build and dark skin. Her long black hair was braided tightly and wound up into a bun at the back of her slanted skull. She sat at a fold-up table intently focused on the laid out components of a dissembled assault gun.

'I seriously wonder how you people managed to win a rebellion against the Amarr with weapons like that?' the Gallente youth taunted her.

Miranjee did not look up from her task of cleaning the different parts laid out before her. 'Projectile weapons have many advantages.' she responded 'They are easy to maintain in the field, they are cheap, and they are sturdy.' she continued as she snapped the trigger mechanism back into her weapon.

Gericault shrugged. He did not really like the Minmatar in general, and the Brutor in particular. 'Why couldn't they put me on duty with Xue?'he regretted while thinking about the Jin-Mei ensign who had signed on together with him. Both had served under captain Roucellis when he was still commanding ships for the Federal Navy, and they stayed with him when he was discharged 'Ensign?' he inwardly laughed 'She is without official rank now, just like me.'

'So, I heard your captain got podded' Gericault said in an effort to get some sort of conversation going.

Miranjee measured the accuracy of her rifle's barrel with a laser scanner and shook her head slowly 'So?' she responded monosyllabic.

'So?!' Gericault echoed with annoyance. 'There could have been casualties.'

Finally the Brutor woman leveled her gaze at him. 'You Gallente always fret too much. We all know the risks we take and we accept our fate.' she said 'Also, it was just a frigate. She did not need any crew.' with that she returned to her task and began assembling the barrel armature.

Gericault started to develop a feeling of frustration. Like many Gallente he enjoyed conversation for it's own sake. The back and forth of witty banter or the exchange of ideas in a lively discussion. Each was fine with him, but the terse manner of this Brutor woman provided no opening. His gaze wandered over the series of holding cells with their transparent shield barriers. The uniformly monastic-looking captives remained in their meditative postures. Not that he would have the desire to engage with any of those deranged fanatics. Finally he decided to play the last ace in his sleeve to get a rise out of Miranjee

'You know, there's talk that your leader is in love with captain Roucellis' he said with an inciting voice while leaning back in his chair, linking his fingers behind the back of his head.

The expression on the Minmatar's strong-boned face turned into an offended scowl. 'That is ridiculous.' she said and put down her half-assembled weapon 'You are talking about my captain, show some respect.'

Gericault grinned with satisfaction, finally he had gotten a reaction 'Well, have you ever noticed the way she looks at him? I saw them together up in ops yesterday, it's pretty obvious.' he continued his provocation.

Miranjee stood up and glared at him. 'It may be that she is a Sebiestor, they are soft natured people, but she's still Minmatar, not some infatuated Gallente girl.' she said with her fists at her hips. Her voice sounded as if her next reaction would be to hit Gericault in his face if he were to continue with this line of conversation.

'You are despicable.' one of their captives muttered from the nearest holding-cell and raised his hooded head 'You violate holy space and then occupy your time with idle gossip.'

'Shut up, nobody talked to you' Miranjee shot at the emaciated figure kneeling ahead of six companions behind the wavering energy field that confined them. Like all the others, he had dark, alien designs inked into the skin of his pale face.

'Yeah, right' Gericault added. 'If you don't behave we are going to bring Madame Jaunes down here. I can tell you, you don't want to meet her.' he threatened.

The figure in the glistening coat smiled grimly. The fire of deep conviction burned in his eyes as he looked out from beneath his hood at the two people assigned to watch over him and the others. 'My life belongs to the sacred messengers of the ancient gods. There is nothing you can do to instill fear in me.'

Gericault got up, walked over to the cell and folded his arms, looking down at the kneeling man. 'Is that so?' he wondered rhetorically 'The last guy who had an attitude also broke under her methods of interrogation.' he said with a certain swagger. 'I heard she only used her bare hands, but the man ended up as if he had suffered the Amarr inquisition's worst torture machines.'

The smile on the gaunt face of the captive lingered as he looked up at Gericault. 'You can only delay the inevitable, one day my brethren will come and destroy you, and then this place will be rid of your defiling presence. All of us here are already dead.' he declared with cold tenacity.

'Stop talking to the prisoners.' Miranjee ordered. 'It's not like they will see reason.'

Gericault shrugged and turned around to walk back to the security station. 'I guess you're right, those people are out of their minds.'

Behind him the haggard man rose from his kneeling position and opened his arms wide. 'Brothers and sisters!' he raised his voice 'Our moment of sacrifice has come.' All the other detainees stood up in unison. Fanatical determination was etched into their faces. 'For the glory of our gods we offer our worthless flesh. Our bodies shall be the weapons that will destroy the blasphemers.'

Miranjee's eyes widened and Gericault turned to look back at the cell. Each of the captives had flung off their lustrous black synthetic coats and thrown their heads back. Black lines started to crawl over their skins and blood seeped from them. They shook with convulsions of pain while trails of black fumes began to rise and coil from gashes in their unravelling epidermises. Despite the torture they underwent, not one of them made a sound other than laboured breathing.

'What the …' Gericault slowly retreated until his back hit the security desk. Miranjee had occupied his former position behind the console and frantically switched through several scans. 'Nanites!' she shouted with alarm.

The first of the Scions were collapsing as their bodies broke apart rapidly and released more of the microscopic machines. Their leader began to laugh manically while blood gushed from countless wounds in his now barely-coherent flesh. His body began to sag and cave in on itself until the laugh degraded into a suffocated chortle. It finally stopped when he turned into no more than a gory heap of disjointed flesh and bones.

Gericault slammed the alarm 'This is station level 23 section 5. Evacuate! Evacuate!' he shouted on the intercom as the sirens started to scream their warning. Then he ran for the door after Miranjee, leaving the gruesome scenery behind. He risked one last look back as the heavy blast doors began to shut. Already the wisps of infinitesimal automatons began to burrow into the bulkheads and he saw the containment shields collapse.

***

Cedrien looked over the damage reports lighting up the control console with a disconcerting amount of flashing red. 'Looks like we have contained them now.' he said with some relief. 'Levels twenty to twenty-five are completely devastated. Thankfully there were no casualties.' He looked at Alira standing next to him and put a hand on her shoulder. 'If you hadn't come up with the idea to link up armour-repair modules with the station's integrity control and use them to direct repair nanites, it would be worse.' he nodded at her with praise. 'Many of us owe you their lives today.' he added.

Alira returned his nod and cast down her eyes. Cedrien's commending words made a surge of heat course through her, but she felt the need to remain professional before him. She swallowed and composed herself. 'If our crewmen hadn't sounded the evacuation alarm right away I would not have had the time.' she said humbly. 'How are they doing?'

Cedrien pressed his lips together and nodded again. 'They will make it. They are suffering from many external and internal lacerations and lost quite some blood, but I hear that their condition is stable.' he sighed heavily. 'I guess next time we encounter the Scions, we wont take any prisoners.' he said with a grim expression.