The Tortures of Treachery

[Cameron Aarons]

Philips Peak Outpost
January 28, 2508 - Highgate
10:36 A.M Local Time
8:09 P.M A.S.T

Cameron smashed through the door. As he did the snow from outside blew straight through inside of the building with him. The cold air made its presence known with every breathe he took. Out came a puff of foggy air from his mouth at every pant. His head moved violently and searched for somewhere to go. He slammed the door behind him, and locked it. It wasn’t much. Two dead bolts and the handle lock. But it could at least buy him some time. He came back around to see if there was anywhere he could go. He stumbled forward into the room, still panicked and out of breath. Breathing was trouble enough since it was so terribly cold, though it was much warmer inside then it was outside. He scrambled around looking for anywhere he could go. There was a table with some chairs around it, and a stove with a cooking pot on it. When he’d run at this place however it looked bigger. He instantly began to regret the decision to go there. He thought his chances might have been better if he’d remained outside.

He was quickly returned to his reality when he heard the sound of automatic weapons being fired just outside. He could see out one of the windows men wearing darker brown colored coats, which clashed very much with the snowy outside. They continued to unleash fire from what he could see. Outside he could also hear screams at various points, men yelling, devoting their last action to a sort of carnal plea for help. Cameron looked at his own jacket, a thick yellow, which while somewhat comfortable, was of almost no help here. The irony being that he’d chosen a bright color so he could be found from farther away, but now it would just stand out like a beacon for people he didn’t want to find him. He moved deeper into the room. But the longer he stood there the more he realized that there was no where to go, and no where to hide.

Outside the gun fire slowed, and then ended abruptly. This caused Cameron to panic even more. He knew what that meant, and he knew he didn’t have much time. He looked around for a means of escape. He’d take any way he could to get out of that situation. But the windows were ceiled tight to keep the cold out, and there wasn’t anything for him to hide under. He adjusted his glasses quickly, hoping that maybe the focus would help him find the solution.

SLAM!!!

Against the door there was a loud smash, and obvious introduction of force. Something on the outside was trying to get in, and it wasn’t just the wind. Cameron’s back hit the wall opposite the door. He stared at it, his whole body shaking. ”Oh God…” He said in a haze. He felt sort of dizzy and sick.

SLAM SLAM SLAM!!!

The sound at the door became very sudden, and frequent.
SMASH!!!

The wooden door flew open. The frame had been broken right through. It swung on its hinges and hit the wall.

Cameron shuddered and covered his face the moment it did, thinking that pieces of the door might hit him. He was fortunate that nothing did, but before him now were the sounds boots hitting the floor, a number of them. The first face he saw was one he recognized. The sheer fact of that made him nearly lose control of his bowels, as he knew exactly what it meant. He’d had a suspicion before, but now he knew for certain how much trouble he was really in.

[Carl Davidson]

Carl had been one of the first to put his feet on the snow. He had been in winter conditions, he knew what it felt like. Where he came from the winters weren’t very accommodating so he knew what he was going to expect. His coat was open in spite of the cold, but he had several layers on underneath his outer shirt to keep him warm. His metal helmet wasn’t much help, holding in all of the cold, but that didn’t matter much to him. His beard was a fortunate element for this cold climate as he trudged out in his boots. He and twenty other men charged down the ramp of the small transport they had ridden in on, and began firing almost immediately.

In front of them there was smoke, and little craters in the snow. They craft had fired down onto the ground while they were coming in. There had been a few positions, with about three men each, were essentially smoldering rubble by the time they hit the ground. None the less, advancing and taking every advantage was what he and his men were used to.

”Right side! Move!” He ordered the moment they were clearing. He and his men raced towards the right of the little compound. In front of them there were some soldiers in purple. They were poorly covered, and trouble firing without being hit themselves. There was a small little fence around the compound of 4 buildings, all of which was made of wood. Carl himself charged, and fired, killing several of the soldiers himself. ”Clear it!” Carl yelled the moment they hit the fence. They hopped over it quickly. On the other side of the compound, another group, roughly the same size as his came about. They too were firing at the purple soldiers, who were running away at this point. It was a pointless effort, the soldiers in brown were moving to fast. Carl looked to his left and saw a man in a thick yellow jacket run in towards the smallest building of the compound, and slam the door. He kept it in mind, and moved forward with his men.

The shooting stopped as the soldiers in purple threw down their weapons and held their hands up. They dove into the snow so that they could show their compliance. There were only about ten of them remaining. Carl then reached to his ear with his finger, and spoke. ”Area clear ‘Colonel’.” He said aloud, his earpiece picking up his every word. He then pointed his right arm out, his left holding his rifle ”Round’ the back, go!” He yelled to some in his group. Then looked at men in the other group that came in from the other side. ”Tie em down, bring up the C.O” Carl ordered.

He and his remaining men moved towards the small building where the man in the yellow jacket had run. Carl pointed at the door, his rifle up now, and one of his men tried to open it, and slammed into it. It was locked, and they all could see it. Carl then moved up, and with his boot, he started to smash against it. Ruthlessly and violently he hit it, and on the fourth kick it smashed open. Carl, rifle ready, moved in first.

No one was in the room except for the man in yellow jacket. Carl and five of his soldiers entered into the room, weapons trained on it. Carl knew the man, and his weapon didn’t move even a little bit. ”Hands up Aarons!” He ordered. Carl was not even the slightest bit toying with him, if he moved even a little bit, he would not hesitate to put a bullet in him.

[Cameron Aarons]

Cameron was frozen to the wall. He was completely backed into a corner and he knew it. In front of him were people he didn’t recognize personally, but he knew exactly what they represented. He only knew the single one of them, and that fact only made it that much worse. This wasn’t an old friend, or hardly even an acquaintance. It was someone he primarily knew by reputation. Of course on that same note the same man probably knew him by reputation, but given his position that was not something that was likely to make him scared, even in the slightest bit. All the while Cameron stood with no where to go, and in a state that made him feel like a small rodent that had just been chased in woods by a pack of wolves.

In his mind, wolves were not a bad of an analogy for the group standing in front of them. Their brown coats, red undergear, and helmets signified their allegiance very clearly. This made Cameron recognize all the more trouble he was in. But Carl being here was a confusing thing for him. He thought that he should be somewhere else, and doing harder battles. This hardly was one where he’d have thought to find him. Even more so, it was extremely out of place he thought for Independents to even be there. The location was so remote, and so poor in terms of strategic value, that there was no point. There was only a single platoon worth of soldiers there, hardly enough to bring what he’d seen. But then again there might have been some value to the place, that made the Independents want it. Perhaps to set up a radio post, or a raiding base. All of these thoughts helped comfort Cameron, as he was coming to think that they weren’t there for him, and that they had only come across him by accident.

Then again, Carl had mentioned him by name, and quite quickly. Such an act suggested that he had been expecting to find him there. He had hoped that wasn’t the case though, that it was just a coincidence. He didn’t know how strong Carl’s memory was, but he did know that he was very good at what he did. But so as not to test him, he kept his hands up and remained motionless. He had expected that they would come over and tie him up, and then take him outside. They did not however, instead remained weapons at the ready and spread out across the room. It wasn’t as though Cameron had a way to fight them. He did carry a pistol, as he thought there was never a need. He greatly regretted that decision now, but he didn’t think too hard on it.

Suddenly a man was brought in. He wore a purple uniform, and had his helmet off. His body armor had a large burn hole at the front, but it seemed that it had saved his life. He was a dark skinned man, and had dark hair. He seemed somewhat out of breathe, but also cold. Each of his exhales came with a puffy cloud. He was brought into the room, and thrown on the ground, and kept on his knees. On his arm there was the symbol representing his status as a Lieutenant. Unlike Cameron, his arms were tied behind his back. Seeing him Cameron wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. Then in front of him at the door appeared another figure. This one was wearing a brown coat, similar, but not quite the same as the others. He was older then anyone else there, and had a brown scarf wrapped around his neck. He held nothing in his hands, and stepped through the door.

At this moment Cameron very nearly collapsed in terror. This was an absolute nightmare, when they he could swear he’d had. But this was far too real and the cold reminded him of that. Regardless he wanted to wake up so bad, and find out that it was all a dream, and then do everything he had to in order to avoid this outcome. But it was far too late. He could nothing, and while he wanted to say a number of things, he could only choke out he was looking at. ”C-Colonel” He wheezed out.

[Sebastion Longstreet]

Major General Longstreet


The snow fell slowly, and it was visible through the front view port at the bridge of the small Remora 4 transport. The gray colored craft, though small by the standards of most space fairing vessels, was large compared to much of the nearby landscape. With nothing but trees and a small collection of buildings, the metal ship was quite imposing. It was warm inside the ship, which was a stark contrast to how it was outside. Inside of Longstreet’s hand there was a mug, and he took a sip from the warm dark liquid within it. He stared out of the forward view port, at the site of soldiers fighting. Numerous brown and red wearing men fired and chased down a group of men wearing purple. They were strange colors for the white environment, but they seemed to be bundled up in them, somewhat anyway.

Longstreet remained standing and took another sip, as two men in front of him worked at their flight consoles. Another man behind him was manning a weapons console. It could be heard within the vessel as the cannon on top of the ship swiveled. The fighting stopped after only a minute or so. There was smoke, and some scorched crater holes in the ground, but the men in brown had been victorious.

’Area Clear, Colonel.’ came a recognizable voice over the intercom.

”Good work Lieutenant.” Longstreet responded aloud, without pressing or doing anything. ”Retrieve the commanding officer in charge here, and bring them to where he is.” Longstreet said in regards to what they had come there. He then turned, and walked off the bridge. As he stepped off, a pair of soldiers stood up at attention, and followed behind him. He moved left, down a flight of stairs, followed closely by the soldiers escorting him. Now in the cargo bay, he had only to walk a few feet before arriving at the ramp, which he moved down without stopping a moment. As he moved he took in the feeling of the environment.

The snowy white cold hit him immediately, but Longstreet didn’t have it show even a little bit. He just kept walking forward. There was a small fence which a portion of which had been knocked down, and Longstreet passed through it. Looking around he saw his men searching buildings, securing the area. Some were already in the process of salvaging weapons and materials, which was very good. Off ahead there was a group moving the defeated soldiers in purple into a single location, where they were being guarded by a group of men who were willing to cut them all down like wheat. Longstreet was at the center of this little compound, and could see at one of the smallest buildings, men whom he recognized with the Lieutenants squad. He knew that they would be there with him, as that was how they had been trained. Longstreet headed over in that direction, and as he did he could see a pair of men bringing forward an Alliance soldier.

They took the soldier into the room, just before Longstreet had arrived there. Longstreet turned them towards one of his escorting soldiers. ”Hold this for me private, if you would.” He said holding out his mug to the soldier at his right. The soldier quickly reached out and took it, shouldering his rifle. The two escorting soldiers remained outside, as Longstreet then stepped inside of the small building.

In front of him was an interesting scene. There was an Alliance lieutenant on the ground, with his hands bound behind him. A squad of Independents all lined around, rifles forward pointed at a man who was in a thick yellow jacket. He had glasses, youthful features, and a very scared look on his face. Longstreet knew him immediately, and was pleased that he had found him in such good condition. ”Mr. Aarons.” Longstreet began. ”We are in an official setting. It’s Major General.” He began, commenting on what he had been called moments earlier. There were some that knew him as Colonel, but only those higher up. He didn’t care generally what he was called, but there were certain moments when he would emphasize it. He stepped further into the room, and looked down at the officer, who seemed scared, but not quite as scared as Cameron did. Longstreet held his hands behind his back and turned to look at the man in the yellow jacket. ”I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” Longstreet began again. ”How did I find you?” He offered. ”Did I really bring an entire squadron half way across the system to get you?” he continued. ”Why am I here?” Longstreet stopped a moment, then spoke again. ”Am I going to kill you?” The way he said it presented such a seriousness that it almost seemed like he himself was a weapon and was firing into Aarons at that very moment. ”While much of this is irrelevant, I assure you, I will not be ending your life here today.” Longstreet finished. His demeanor was such that he was the most powerful man there, but he clearly had more on his mind then what he had just said.

[Cameron Aarons]

Puffs of white air appeared consistently in front of Cameron’s face. Though he was breathing quickly, he felt like there was nothing in his lungs. It was as though the moment the door had been opened all of the oxygen had been sucked outside, leaving only a tiny bit that remained. But was left was toxic, and harsh. This is what Cameron felt like. As though he was breathing so he could stay alive, but every inhale brought a poison deeper into his lungs.

I-I-I-I-I swear.” Cameron stuttered out. ”I didn’t know it was that important. I never would have done it if I’d have known!” Cameron explained.

He was desperate, and the words he was saying were absolutely false. But he was in such a panic that in his mind they seemed like the absolute truth. There was no other truth except whatever it would take to get him out of there alive. Of course Longstreet had just promised he wasn’t going to kill him, but that may have been to just put him at ease. He was far too scared to come back to calm however, and continued to breathe hard.

They forced me to do it...” He stammered. ”I-I-I tried to get b-back… but they… took me here a captive!” He yelled, as though saying it louder was going to make it more believable. But while his mind was telling him to lie, his heart knew that the men in front of him didn’t believe a word he said.

[Sebastion Longstreet]

”Stop.” Longstreet ordered in a calm tone of voice. Though his voice was calm, his face was identical to that of a parent who was looking at child that was covering up the fact that he’d committed a terrible crime. It was a serious look that defined his entire body at that moment. He stopped moving and kept his hands behind his back. There was still distance between himself and the man in the yellow jacket, but he was staring at him so intensely it was as they were only centimeters apart.

He drew in a breath, but there wasn’t a sound as he did. ”I don’t like being lied to Mr. Aarons.” He said with a very solid sound. He drew in another very short breath. It was almost as though he was a tiger staring at a rodent it had backed into a corner. There was no escape, and in a single moment he could remove the rodent from existence. And yet still the rodent tried to reason with him, in what Longstreet considered was the worst way possible.

”You have one chance.” Longstreet brought his gloved index finger beside his face and held it firmly beside his head. ”Is the data being compiled here?” Longstreet brought his hand down and put it at his side. ”And you will not lie to me again.”

Though Longstreet gave that statement, he knew that it wouldn’t be followed. Not unless Cameron had a very serious reason to believe him. He would do whatever he had to in order to get away alive, but also unharmed. And admission would likely bring evidence of his guilt. Though Longstreet already knew his guilt, it was another thing altogether for him to actually show a sign that he acknowledged what he did wrong.

And so Longstreet would make him believe. He turned his head to the right and looked at Carl. The bearded man’s face held a sort of aggressive hatred at that moment. The entire exchange was only a single second, but it would be enough. ”Lieutenant.” Longstreet said, darting his eyes down to the Alliance officer, and then back up to him.

[Carl Davidson]

Carl had moved to stand behind the commanding officer they had captured and brought in a few moments earlier. His weapon remained pointing at Aarons, but he held it by his waste rather then at his shoulder. Carl was a very good shot, and Aarons could likely be running and he’d still get him. The fact that he was standing still, in front of a squad of men, meant there was no way out. That was precisely how Carl had planned the attack. They would move in very quickly on the Alliance forces, and immobilize them within a matter of minutes.

The fact that they’d caught Aarons inside of that room was a matter of luck more then anything else. If he had tried to run into the woods, Carl likely would have had to shoot him. That wouldn’t have done them a great deal of good in terms of the information they needed from him. He would have gladly gotten that information out him himself, but the ‘Colonel’ had wanted to get it from him himself. Carl remained stationary, behind the officer, with his weapon on Aarons as Longstreet spoke to him.

The words Aarons said meant almost nothing to Carl. Carl commanded the soldiers on the ground, and fought in battle. In terms of the information, he had little concern. At the moment his job was to make sure the area was secure, and that Longstreet was safe. All signs suggested he had done this very well, but Carl was always ready for unexpected circumstances to arise.

The moment he heard his rank, Carl’s head darted to where it came from. He met Longstreet’s eyes, and awaited his orders. Longstreet shot a look down at the officer in front of Carl, and then back up at him. Carl knew exactly what this meant, and he was prepared in that moment to carry out the unspoken order.

He brought his rifle back up to his shoulder, and gripped it tight. He ran the barrel just behind the officer’s naked head, and placed his finger on the trigger. In a process that took only a fraction of a second, he fired the weapon, killing the officer instantly.

[Cameron Aarons]

BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!


Cameron watched as Carl shot the dark skinned man in uniform. He screamed as he did. The sound of the gunshot, and the visual of the mans head coming apart was horrifying. A spurt of blood went to the floor, but the angle of the shot had kept it from splattering all over everyone. It was fairly clean, but it was horrific.

In a single instant Cameron had watched every bit of hope he had get blown away. The Lieutenant that was there to keep him safe had just been executed right in front of his eyes. In a matter of minutes all of his men had been defeated. And of course Longstreet had seen straight through his meager attempts to deceive him. But it was stupid of him to try. The fact that Longstreet was there in person meant he wasn’t going to be tricked so easily.

Cameron didn’t even feel bad about the fact that he had gotten so many people killed. It was his fault that the Independents had come to that place, and killed many of them. It was his lie that got the Lieutenant killed just then. What he’d been doing in that position was leading to the deaths of others as well. But Cameron didn’t feel sorry for them. He only felt sorry for himself, that he had managed to get caught in such a mess. He would have been smarter to have just hid in the Central Planets, somewhere as close to the capitol as possible. Instead he had made a shot for the money and prestige, and hid out in the farthest place from it, where he couldn’t get help even if he begged for it.

This was his reality now. Dead men and his lies being swept away. His back was against a wall, and he was facing a firing squad. His mind was trying to force him to back up his last statement. He wanted to try to get out of this without giving Longstreet any more reason to hurt him. But it was too late, and there was no other option. And in that moment, Aarons gave in.

”Yes.” He said, breathing hard, but with more control over himself. ”It’s here.” Cameron explained. ”In the east building, at the control panel, it’s all there.”

He had gotten the words out too quickly. He wanted to stop himself, to perhaps keep some element of leverage. But he couldn’t. He just wanted so badly to get away from it, that he said everything.