Arica Harbour Correctional Facility
Acheron
4604 SPR / 2 Years to Zero Hour

She is lead into some kind of common room. A small window allowed faint daylight to glimmer through the Ocean outside. In one of the walls was installed a mirror glass, which suggested the room could be used to observe inmates here. Save for one solitariy table and a pair of Chairs, there was nothing in it. She grew suspicious, when she was left to sit there without cuffs for what felt like hours.

There was nothing to do but look at the fish calmly swimming by, or tracing scratches in the walls. While stretching her legs, she noticed the rattling of metal on metal. Heavy doors being opened and alarm tones ringing out, announcing the arrival of whoever was about to ‚pay her a visit‘. Who could even be allowed in to see her?

The man entering was wearing a uniform. Seemed more military, than police. Highly decorated too, by the looks of it. „Who’re you?“ She asked abbrasively, still standing by the window with crossed arms, while he sat down.

„High-Marshal of the Coalition Sky Force Jackson Vaccaro. You?“

She hesitated. „Hang on…“

„Yes, I mean to tell you that the highest ranking member and Commander in Chief of the Sky Force, has taken a personal interest in your case… I’ve been through this a couple of times, it get’s old quickly, so can we please skip the pleasantries?“

She stood stunned. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts she blurted out, „Oh, wow. That’s some really fucking desperate interrogation work.“

Instead of replying or endulging her fantasy, he laid out some files on the desk and began reading. “Clarissa Bennington, female, born 4575 in Nordkron, single, no children nor previously married.”

“That’s a good read, gets more entertainin‘ as you go.”

“It says here you were incarcerated fo- oh good Guides I’m not reading all that. Let’s settle for manslaughter, shall we? What do You think?”

“What about?”

„Well, if you’re here for killing a man in Self-Defence or Murder.“

Clarissa sighed, „Everything you need knowin‘ is in there. I’ve said my piece. Lots, actually. I am not playing your games anymore, and you will not trap me into a fake confession, even if you claimed to be a Severnaya-Queen in person. I am tired. Leave me alone.“

Shoulders hanging, she went to the Bar-Doors, ringing the bell and calling for guards to lead her back to her cell.

Guards came and Clarissa offered her wrists for them to cuff, but they only nodded over to the supposed military man.

„Miss Bennington, you need to understand, that, if these men bring you back to your cell now, you will stay here in this prison forever. I am your only shot of getting out of here.“

At that, Clarissa got angry. „Do you think you’re the first interrogator to try that with me? Do you think this is funny, s’that it? Newsflash, it aint funny.“

She turned to the observation mirror. „And im sick of it! How small do you have to be, to torture people like that over and over and over again. Im reaching my fucking limit! Come out and talk to me face to face dammit! I’ve got no time for your second rate acto- NO!“

Gunshots whipped out. Again and again.

Clarissa went from screaming her lungs out in an over the top fit of rage, to being helplessly terrified. She had no idea how many shots were fired, but it took a good while until the firing stopped. Splinters of Glass rained down on her as she cowered.

The last thing she saw, before she dove to the ground, was the imposter having pulled out his gun and aiming it in her general direction.

The guards were just as flabbergasted as Clarissa, guns at the ready, aiming at her, only for the lack of anything else to aim their pieces at. Despite him having emptied his entire Magazine, he wasnt a threat to them, but their trained reflexes certainly had to have them aim at something.

Jackson calmly walked up to her, with a faint smile on his face, as if he just delivered an innocent joke. While crawling away from him backwards, she noticed an almost perfect circle of bullet holes in the glass. The sled of his weapon still slid back, he slammed the pistol grip into the center of the ring, leaving a grape sized hole. “As You can see, I am not decieving You.” he said, nodding Clarissa towards it.

In disbelief, she got up on her feet, and peered through, seeing indeed not a single person amidst the recoding equipment, some of which got shot up from piercing bullets.

„I do not have the time to play games, or wait for you to calm down, miss Bennington.“

Vaccaro motioned to the guards to leave, who did so only reluctantly.

He continued, gesturing to the table, “Now. May we sit down, and talk about what got you in here?”

While they walked over, he calmly reloaded his weapon and holstered it. Clarissa took a moment after sitting down, before she began to explain. “I uhm…. I used to be a hairdresser. My Parents worked their way up the flights on Acheron when I was younger, so I had a bit of a headstart compared to them. Eventually they were able to kickstart a shop for me. Not too many flights down.”

„How high are we talking?”

„We lived on 623.“

„I do not know what that means.“

„Ohh-y-yeah, sorry. Uhm. In the sector where we lived, that would be about a Kilometer below streetlevel. If we had a good year we could maybe afford a vacation resort in something as high as 350, but anythin higher than that was…. They uhm… “ she huffed a laugh and smiled, “they saved up so we could celebrate my 21st birthday up on streetlevel. I saw the sky for the first time, then.“

Jackson pitied her for this, but didnt visibly react. It deeply saddened him to see people or hear stories of Acheronians living in squaller, sometimes seeing entire generations go by, without ever being able to peer up at the stars. And there he was, a golden child of Severnaya. Where none lived underground and barely a skyscraper pointed at the heavens. He always knew it was a privilege, but going through these convict interviews over the last years, really put it all into perspective.

„What happened to your shop?“ He inquired softly.

„Nothing. Paid back my parents in full, had alotta happy and returning customers. And then one day these Punks step in. They said I was operatin on their turf and that I needed to pay ‘protection fees’.

Kindly sent them on their way, and next mornin’ I want to open up; everything was completely trashed. All that work I put in. So I had it fixed up but business was slow from then on. Even regulars got spooked. Went into dept, Dad got sick so parents couldn’t help out. So what do You do to get by? You take what You need.”

Her posture shifted. She pulled back and got defensive unbeknown to her, but Vaccaro noticed it. “Since I was livin’ pretty high compared to most people I knew, crime wasn’t a huge issue. The more we moved up the more authority police had. The people on the higher flights are a lot less on their guard. So since security is more relaxed, I figured I could go up a couple flights, break in somewhere and see what I can get. Worked out too, for a while. Made a name for myself and got to know a loads of pleasant folk.”

“So, You’re proud of being a good thief?”

Clarissa now shifted to a more confrontational stance, but remained calm altogether, “If You don’t embrace what You’ve become, then You’re lyin to yourself. That ain’t happenin with me. I don’t take pride in having to do it, but I might as well be good and well connected while I do it. It pays well to get along with people.”

“Until You met Mr. Danforth.”

“Yup.” She went on biting on her lip. “Got fed crappy intel. Was s’posed to be gone for the weekend, but while I was cashin in on ‘is wife’s stuff, he suddenly stood there and started attacking me right away. No ‘who are you’s’ or ‘what are you doing here’s’. He went instant hands. Tried to get out but he kept catching me and then….”

“And then?” Vaccaro inquired after she had paused for a bit.

“While we struggled, I saw it in his eyes. He… wanted… to kill me. I could just tell. And so I fought back. He was so much stronger, but then he started to lose focus. Kept monologueing to himself about how hes going to twist my breaking in into an assassination…. attempt… mumbling it aloud in front of me while i was… barely holding off the knife… wait a minute… assassination by You.”

“It is not wrong that he and I used to be connected. Continue.”

Clarissa proceeeded with furrowed brows, “I found an opening and stabbed him with a shard of broken window glass. Right in the throat. That’s how he died — He wouldn’t let me go alive. Make o‘ that what You will.”

She leaned back when she finished. Vaccaro didn’t react for a good moment, transfixed in thought, but still looking at her. Sizing her up.

“I lied to you earlier.”

“No shit.” she replied, sarcasm even dripping from her expression.

“Nooonono, I’m not an impostor, but I did read your file beforehand. The official documents state, that You broke into his home to burglarize the place, he showed up, and then You killed him in coldblood. You’ve been sentenced to 20 years for it.”

“Tadaaaa.” She briefly untangled her crossed arms to shake her hands for effect.

“You do not seem too broken up about this.”

“Prison sucks, alright? But do not think for a second, that I’m sad to be alive when I was left with no choice in the matter.”

“So. To recap.” he said, while collecting the files he previously spread out, “You did break into someones home, killed an occupant, but feel little to no remorse about it. Are we on the same page?”

“You wanted my side of things. You got it, Chief.”

“Would You change anything if You could?”

Visibly annoyed, she reiterated “Like I said… I wanted to >get out<!”

As hard as he tried, he couldnt find anything in her words or posture that pointed to Clarissa fabricating the events, although the peace she made with the current state of affairs left one more blind spot. “You seem suspiciously tranquil about all of this.”

“Why should I not be? Do I have the power to change things? Like you said. I’m a nobody. No banging or screaming at the walls will make anyone hear me out, or review my case any more. I know it was selfdefence, and so does everyone else. It just happened in someone’s home with a higher station than someone like me.“

Vaccaro motioned to stand, but bent over the table first, saying: “You might be a nobody to the public Miss Bennington, but not to me.” Still she did not respond, as there was nothing left to say for her, for the moment. The Highmarshal paced a bit away from the desk and towards the Window, giving him clear sight to the sweeping ocean waves.

“You see, Mr Danforth was of considerable value to me.”

“So sorry to hear that.”

“Now now! No need to be sarcastic with me, it is quite different from what you imagine.”

Clarissa had no idea what to expect next. No idea about Vaccaro’s motives or aims with her. Was he just doing this for fun? And how was he her ‘ticket’ out of this rut?

“The man You killed, ruined my daugther’s life.” He said, turning around.

And suddenly it all fell into place for her. The Court Martial. The public humiliation of the officers involved. It was all about the Trident-Tragedy from just over a year ago. His daughter Vanessa was at the center of it in the press reports Clarissa saw about it. “One could say, I am indebted to Your service.”

Clarissa was dumbfounded, “Ok, so back up. Your perfect little Princess, blows up half a Skyship,“

„I DO NOT appreciate that snark about my daughter“, he interrupted her abruptly.“

„Sorry slipped out,“ she came back with a hint of a smile and continued in one breath, „…and a suit is resonsible for her court martial?”

“Not directly… It’s a long story.” Jackson said and sat down again. “Anyway. So in light of having exacted revenge in my daughters name, I felt like finding out if You were worthy of a fresh start.”

“Worthy?”

“Well do You think I asked for your feelings about Mr Danforth’s death for a good giggle? No. I needed to see what You’re made of. If You were in actuality a cold blooded murderer, I wouldn’t miss a single night’s sleep about letting You spend your life’s evening here. And while Your lack of remorse might be concerning to any ordinary citizen, You do actually suit my personal purposes.”

“Personal Purposes?“ She retorted drily, alarm bells ringing.

“Since I’m confident You’re not a danger to the program, i am thinking of enlisting you in; do you want to hear the details?“

„What Program?“ She was surprised how jolly he was talking about this, when just a second ago, talking about his daughter, he seemed to be ready to shoot knives out of his eyes.

“My predecessors have created a secret facility about 400 Lightyears away from the furthest reaches of our civilisation. Ever since the Decimation, it lay dormant. Knowledge of it barely survived.
Point being, we are turning it into a 7th colony. There is… need of a backup plan. A place to go, if another Decimation were to occur. And this is it. We haven’t seen or heared from the Butchers for over 10 years, so concern is mounting. Now… You may remain Yourself. No false identities necessary. But you will simply… disappear. No chance of returning to either of our six planets, but You will get a completely fresh start. Only thing we ask, is that you help build up the settlement we laid down.”

“Not gonna lie, Your pitch sounds a bit like a slave labour camp.” Clarissa said, drily.

“It does, doesn’t it?” The Highmarshal blinkingly realized. “Well it isn’t! I have no reason to lie to You. In any case, You will get another shot at a life in freedom, no questions as-.”

“I’m in.”

“Good!” He said in surprise. He was already preparing to settle in for her pondering over this decision for a good while. “Then there is nothing left for me to do here.” As he went over to the doorbell he continued, “I’ll pass my ‘recommendation for transfer’ on to the warden, and You should be on Your way to the new world by week’s end. At the latest, that is. We will probably see each other again on that day.”

Still a bit flustered, Clarissa took his offer to shake hands. The guards left the door to the room open while escorting the Highmarshal out.

Remaining there in thought for a second, she felt like having to voice her concerns aloud and so Clarissa lept into the hallway before he was out of earshot.

The Guards noticed her, but weren’t – to her surprise – hostile at all.

“Hey Vaccaro!” She shouted down the hall and waited until he acknowledged her. “I really hope You didn’t play me.”’

“Well that’s the thing about trust, You see? You just don’t know, until it’s too late.” When she let his words sink in, he motioned an ever so slight nod in her direction. “See You in a week then, Miss Bennington!”

The following days dragged out to be the longest of her life. The rising anticipation made her restless. She counted Hours, counted Minutes, survived on auto-pilot, found no sleep. Interactions with guards and other inmates skipping by in a blurr.

‘By week’s End’, she would be free.

And freed, she was. Not a day too soon, Highmarshal Vaccaro showed up at the prison. She was beside herself with joy. This was real. This was truly happening.

Leaving her cell for the final time she went on, to enjoy a strangely rich and tasty breakfast. Zynical minds would jump to conclusions at the quality and selection of foods. ‚Hangman’s meal‘ some other Prisoners murmured, and were reminded that interactions in open areas were still restricted.

It wasnt as crowded as it should be. Clarissa mused, some women in here didn’t make Vaccaro’s cut.

Once breakfast wrapped, they were given an hour to collect their belongings, and ascend topside in their own civillian clothing.

Arriving at the Prison’s landing pad, a troop transport was already touching down, with enough space for all the three or four dozen inmates that were selected.

As per his conversation with Clarissa, Vaccaro made his personal intrest in her clear, by offering her a seat in the top compartment, with a view past the pilots.

Unfortunately, she couldnt enioy it much, since sky-flight in weightlessness messed with her digestion considerably.

Her only Respite was the brief holding period on a Sky Force Capital ship, offering enough electrograv for her to get her bearings, before they were shipped on down to their new home.

Queezy and pale as a wheel of cheese, did she set foot on „Flintstone“ for the first time, hurling up her breakfast and deciding then and there, to never Sky-travel again in her life, if she could help it.

But oh was it worth it. Once she got up on her quivering legs, her insides beginning to calm, a Trooper handed her some water, and she was finally able to appreciate her sorroundings. Yes, the most immediate vacinity were the inside perimeters of a military base, but outside in the surroundings in which it was placed, clearly visible against the horizon, a mountainrange piercing upwards into the sky, as a mockery to the highest scraper that any Acheronian could build.

The colours were so bright and clear. She had never seen anything like it. Not even in movies. Not in documentaries. Nothing came close. The colours were so strong that her eyes started to hurt and water. Opposite to the mountains hang the sun in the sky, menacingly large and surrounded by a thick mist. Maybe it was the strength of the afternoon sun, she wasn’t sure. Certainly however, she would cherish the chance shes been given, make the most of the opportunities she would find, and if having another try at setting up a hairdressing studio was among them.