Word Count: 66,052
Summary of Events:
Hawk was tortured and thrown in jail for insubordination by the General Secretary; but was pleased to learn that — like many a low-ranking officer — Corporal Ognianov was working as a prison guard to earn some extra money and so had someone to talk to who wasn't mean to him, and could check up on Cvita. Another low-ranking officer Hawk knew — but sorely disliked — came by to take Hawk for more torturing and taunted him, causing Hawk to get upset and knock him out before proceeding to attempt an escape, which failed and got him even more beat up, landing him in the prison hospital to recover . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
He heard the sound of the door being unlocked and turned to see Corporal Ognianov slide the door open before stepping in, sliding it shut, and locking it.
She walked over and sat down on the bed so close that her hips were resting against his hips, then she put a hand on his chest lightly.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Kind of better,” Hawk replied.
“That’s good,” she said. “Maybe this good news will help you feel even better.”
“Oh?” Hawk said, intrigued.
“The probe was shot as soon as it was in range and the fighters pulled back to regroup, as they weren’t supposed to attack until the probe was transmitting,” she said. “So many and severe casualties have been averted.”
“For now,” Hawk replied dismally.
“I’d thought you’d be happy to hear that,” she said, sounding almost insulted.
“The General Secretary doesn’t give up that easily,” Hawk replied. “Sure he didn’t end up getting his mission to work the first time, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try repeatedly again until he does succeed, or has run out of soldiers to send out toward their ships, whichever happens first.”
She sighed. “I guess that is true.”
“He probably hasn’t seen his stupidity yet,” Hawk said. “And who really knows if he is ever going to see it?”
“I’d like it if he didn’t and someone got so frustrated with him that they killed him,” she said.
“I could do that Corporal,” Hawk said.
“Please,” she said. “It’s Tekla.”
Hawk looked at her. “You think I deserve to know your first name?” Hawk asked.
“Oh I’m sure you knew it, considering how you looked up my page before coming to talk to me,” Tekla replied. “I’m just allowing you to call me by it.”
“Why?” Hawk asked.
“You should know that too, considering the discussion we had the other day before you made your escape bid,” Tekla replied.
“Well then I guess it’s only fair that you call me Hawk,” Hawk said.
“I have to admit that I don’t really know if Hawk entirely suits you as a name,” Tekla said.
“According to what I was taught at the Institution a hawk is a type of bird that hunts animals to eat,” Hawk said. “I think that fits. I don’t necessarily eat the people I kill, but I hunt them down and I make them look like something ate them before I’m done with them.”
“Oh,” Tekla said. “It does fit you then.”
“You’ll keep me posted on how many times the General Secretary bangs his head on the wall before he realises that he’s not going to be able to break it by that method?” Hawk asked.
“I will,” Tekla replied. She lifted her hand off of his chest and stroked it through his hair, which was starting to get long enough for him to consider too long, at least on the top of his head. “We can laugh at him together.”
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