Chapter 13: Preparation

“Damn...” Stone remarked as he looked at the truck’s hood. “The battery is completely drained, and some of the circuitry has been completely stripped.”

Ioren was with Stone as they looked at the vehicles. The black tarp that covered it was removed as the sunlight bled into the interior of warehouse number 3.

“What about the van?” Ioren typed on her tilon.

“Completely stripped of everything, but it still has a battery.”

It was just past the afternoon. No response that they know of ever arrived to bother them. By now, Ioren felt a recharge to herself. Even Stone seemed to function better now that he had a chance to get some badly needed sleep. The pain that Ioren had, was much less evident now than it ever was. He opened the hood of the van as he looked at the engine.

“The battery has a 10% charge to it,” Stone said. “Probably from the inactivity from all the years it has been sitting here.” He showed an agitated look as he kicked the side of the van. “They completely gutted the parts from this thing.”

“Can the battery be moved to the truck?”

He sighed and nodded his head. “I can do it right now, but the cell needs to be recharged as soon as possible. I doubt it will make the trip to the prison facility ... we might have to head on foot.”

“Could we use the windmill?”

“Nice try, but it needs a special converter for that to even happen. If they had that ability, then these things wouldn’t be gutted down as it is. Still can’t believe they even left these for the prisoners to recover. What else did they fucking leave behind for them to use?”

She had no answer to that question. Instead, she tried to think of other ideas as she scanned the map carefully. She noted some of the things that were closer to them. Even if they tried to walk straight to the prison, it would take at least four to five hours to reach it. However, there was something that was a little bit closer than the prison.

“What about the village?” she typed.

“No,” he replied as he picked up the battery and moved it to the truck.

“You worked with them before.”

“And that is why I’m not recommending it. Even if they could fully fix this, the people there might not be so cooperative. Many haven’t even seen an Itrean before either.”

“They might help if we are...” She paused as she rapidly typed. “If we are fighting the syndicate.”

“Hmmm...” he remarked as he slipped the battery into place. He expressed aggravation of even having to go back there.

“The warrior that fights my foe is also my ally,” Ioren’s tilon translated.

“What?”

“It is a saying during our fight against the Emphra.”

“Hmmm ... the enemy of my enemy is my friend ... Hmph ... fine ... we will drive the truck to the village assuming that it doesn’t break down or not work in the first place. I would prefer that we wait till night before driving this thing.”

“I understand.”

“Just before nightfall,” he reiterated. “We have to time it, so it doesn’t provoke them to shooting us on sight. If this thing doesn’t work, then we go ahead and proceed with the main plan. We walk into the prison and take on the syndicate then and there ... with maybe a little help from something else too.”

“Alright.”

“Get your rest and prepare as much as you can. There will be no turning back once we’re committed.”

It was getting closer and closer to the setting of the sun. Both were sitting down on the hard floor. They had just finished up eating together as Ioren was finishing up the final modification to her pistol. The parts were placed correctly together, and she held it up to feel the difference. While it was slightly heavier than it originally was, the gun looked different now. Its most significant notable difference was the large suppressor that jutted out of the front barrel. There were also several other adjustments made to the gun itself.

Stone was just waking from a very short nap as he could see the transformed pistol. Even he seemed to show a sign of being impressed.

“So this is the TRN-1,” he remarked. He held out his hand for her to give it to give to him. She did so as he held the gun to inspect it. “It was a wise move on their part. The AKT-2 was just better overall, but the special design of this suppressor turns the older pistol into one of the quietest pistol designs ever made. If we need to be silent, then you will need this. I don’t see any flaws in your work.”

“You know our guns so well,” Ioren typed. She picked up her tilon as she looked at him.

“Of course, I do,” he told her. “It’s my job.”

“No, you like guns.”

“That is also true.” There was a hint of genuine gratitude to what he just said.

“I like guns too,” she remarked.

“Hmph ... so did my wife.” He handed the gun back to her in which she placed it on the floor. “She always preferred pistols and rifles.”

“She was special to you.”

“Of course, she was,” he said with some annoyance.

“You honor her,” she continued. “You were the perfect mate for her.”

For a moment, his eyes looked down at the pavement. She could see that she was getting through to him. Instead of snapping at her, he simply turned his attention to the ocean. He wanted to change the topic.

“So tell me about yourself,” he said. “I’m sure that you have had a chance to learn about me.”

This took Ioren by some surprise. She wasn’t going to let an opportunity like that go to waste. She began to type as much as she could at the fastest speed possible. He was extremely patient as she did her best to describe everything.

“I was born just after the war with the Emphra,” her tilon explained. “No brothers or sisters. Mother was an Aksren, and father was a Yutilian.”

“That had to be ... challenging.”

She gave a couple of quick nods as she temporally paused the tilon before resuming it. “Mateship between species was very rare. Hatred between clans, hatred between species. The T’rintar clan allowed families from ravaged worlds to their space after the war with the Emphra. My mother was one of them. She did not hate. She wanted to live and be happy. My father agreed to the same idea even if others denounced their mateship.”

“Hmph...” he grunted. She continued to type.

“They had me. I’m both, which is very rare. T’rintar clan welcomed families but did not like mateship. I wanted to serve my clan, but...”

“They didn’t like your face,” he noted.

She did a quick nod. “Everything. Conscription was required, but they didn’t want me. I volunteered and told them that I wanted to serve my people. Finally, an Adjunct sympathized and let me join and train. I worked on vehicles for some time, and then the clan wars broke out again. The Itrean T’rintar government splintered and became three clans. I was ready to fight and die for my people, but...”

“Zilik’s Disease,” he simply answered.

There was much remorse on her face as her feathers dropped down. “Yes. So much death.” She struggled with her typing. “It struck every male and my father...” She couldn’t complete the sentence. The marine understood what she was trying to convey.

“It is a cowardly way to attack,” Stone told her as he shook his head. “You just create it, leave it, and that is it. No fight. Nothing to remember your achievement.”

“I was ready to kill Aksren and Shal’rein that entered our space that I served. I worked with mostly Shal’rein of the T’rintar clan. I helped repair their tanks, and they trained me to shoot better. Eventually, I was reassigned to the submarine divisions a couple of years ago. I don’t like submarines.”

“Hmph...”

“Then, we met your people. I only heard the stories, but I rarely saw humans until this month.”

“Why did they assign you to me?” he asked her.

She seemed to think about it for some time. She didn’t really have much of an answer before she resumed typing, but she decided to be forthright and confess something.

“Golarren. I spoke out for the Golarren. They thought that I was becoming sympathetic to the Kinto’lin.”

Stone turned his head to look at Ioren. “The Kinto’lin? Who the fuck are they?”

“Terrorists that fight for the Golarren. They are equalists.”

She typed nothing else on the matter as if she didn’t want to speak about it. Even the way it was conveyed in the message hinted to him that she was conflicted with that statement. Stone seemed to understand a little bit.

“So they thought you might have been dangerous...” he concluded.

She momentarily tried to hiss a little bit and showed a fit of frustration while she typed. “I’m not Kinto’lin, but...”

“As far as I see it,” he interrupted her. “You were guilty once they started to think that. So, in the end, they wanted to keep you as far away from anything that could give you access to their equipment. Hmph...”

Stone said nothing else as if he was comprehending everything she said and making sense of it. He looked at the ocean one last time before he picked up his Meclevar vest and started to put it on. He then reached and grabbed his helmet before putting it on. Ioren knew it was time. She closed her tilon. She also picked up her wrap armor disk pieces and started to put them on as well.

The black tarp of the truck was entirely removed. The vehicle’s looks were mostly preserved despite its standing age. A manual handle on the side allowed Stone to open the door by hand. Fully loaded up with gear, it was challenging to climb into the driver’s seat.

Ioren almost couldn’t even open the door. The manual latch barely responded even with her armored clawed fingers pulling on it. Finally, with a jolt, it snapped open. With two AKT-2s sitting on her back, a silenced pistol on her side, and loaded with every loaded magazine she could have, she was also having problems climbing in. Her situation was more different as it was her tail. The bumper-like seats were covered in dust and dirt, causing them to fling into the air. It stank as it flared into her nostrils. She also had to curve her tail to try to sit to the best that she could.

Stone looked at the steering wheel. It was now or never. He reached his hand to the front control pad. He wiped the dust off it as he tapped the main power button. He waited for a second as nothing happened. He then tapped the button again but could see that it wasn’t going to turn on. On the one hand, Ioren wished that she could help out somehow, but the lack of parts, tools, and equipment just made it impossible.

“Come on, dammit!” he yelled at the vehicle. He lifted his hand and slammed it on the steering vehicle hard. The moment that he did that, the vehicle’s engine turned on. The motor began to turn.

The truck’s long eternal slumber had been awoken, but noises could be clearly heard. The control panel on the vehicle all pointed to signs that it was working but only so well. An emergency light indicator showed that the truck’s battery was horribly low, being at about 9%.

Ioren could see that the marine’s bout of violence worked. The marine wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste as he switched the gear forward. One of the truck’s tires was almost flat, but it was moving forward. Upon exiting warehouse number 3, he began to drive it down the beach.

The feel of the moving vehicle was not exactly a comfortable one, but one that was suitable enough. The longer the truck moved, the less time they would be on foot. Even Ioren felt a mild form of relief upon the prospect. The red color of the vehicle began to shimmer from the end of sunset. It even almost appeared to be brownish as well.

It didn’t take long for the truck to reach the charred remains of warehouse #2. The fires had long been extinguished, and it was reduced to almost scrap metal. Nothing about the bodies that remained outside and near the office. For Ioren, it almost seemed to be a sign of absolute negligence. Yet, nothing would likely be done about it as the island was nothing but a forgotten place to human society.

Ioren almost felt comfortable that they were moving along now instead of remaining in one place. She turned her head to look behind one last time. She could see the beautiful sky and beach as the mainland scenery began to take over.

Stone was focused on the driving, but his augmented eye was scanning for any signs of danger. There was none, but his gaze went back to the battery indicator. It was now at 8% and falling fast.

“This vehicle won’t make it to the prison,” he told her. “We will have to head to the village.”

Ioren nodded her head. What took hours of walking on foot was taking only minutes now. The tire problem was prevailing. It was not a comfortable ride in any way. The dirt roads didn’t help in this prospect at all either.

They reached the crossroad point where Stone turned to the right. By now, the familiar large hill was starting to get bigger. There were occasional other buildings, in which both were keeping an eye on. It was like driving through a ghost town. Nature was everywhere, and the threat of accidentally running into something was obvious.

Stone looked at the power indicator. It was down to 7%. From this point, it was a straight road. There were occasional silhouettes that would become highlighted in the growing darkness. Most were just animal life from the distant swamps, but one was a wondering human being. Ioren spotted the person and recognized it as Oxio. The wondering man seemed disinterested in the truck as it drove past him. Even the marine only gave a quick glance to him.

There was nothing else of great note along with the travel. The Itrean continued to look around, trying to spot anything of interest. Along some areas of the road were the thick forests. A fallen dead tree was along the path in which Stone had to veer and drive around it to avoid running into it.

The trip would take at least five minutes until the distant coastline of the eastern side beach could be seen. Stone could see that there was at least 3% of power left in the truck’s main battery. It was about to shut off at any minute.

The dirt road led in two directions. The lefthand turn led north, and the right turn would lead south. He took a left and continued to drive forward. The trip along the beach was beautiful. Ioren started to see something in the vast distances of the waters. These were fishing boats most likely used by the prisoners. They were nothing impressive, mainly consisting of wood and metal slapped together. The makeshift rafts would float around while men or women would be tossing nets to grab whatever they could.

Stone could start to see something coming up as they continued to drive forward near the beach. The forest got particularly dense near the road, but a clearing could be seen ahead. The trees caused a form of natural obstruction to what could be seen beyond it. It also forced anything on the road to go through this narrow area before reaching this clearing. Two men armed with bolt action rifles stood in this area. They both seemed ready to meet the truck but might have been surprised upon seeing it. These were the native prisoners, but they wore whatever they could as armor or something to protect them against the environment.

By the time the truck pulled up to them, one was ready with his rifle but didn’t aim it at the truck driver. The other stepped aside and towards the vehicle to investigate it.

“Let me talk to them,” Stone instructed Ioren. “We both step out and hold our hands up. Don’t even make a threat against them.”

The truck’s battery finally gave out as the engine shut off. Nothing more could be done about it as the vehicle remained without power. Even the two men ahead could see it as they watched the two step out. Stone was the first to get out as he held up his hands. It was a gesture to show that they were not threatening. Ioren was next as she walked out. She kept her helmet lowered down so they could see her actual face. One never saw the Itrean before and had most of his attention diverted to her.

“Ah...” one of the guards said, but the other was calm. He gestured to him to remain calm.

“I know you ... Stone, is it?” the other guard said.

“Yes,” he was forthright to them. “I came here to speak with your elder. We need to bring up important information.”

“Diallo mentioned that he was not interested in speaking with you again. You were lucky that we didn’t shoot you on sight.”

“Then you can tell him this,” as the marine kept his hands and arms away from his guns. “I destroyed the warehouse used by the syndicate southwest of here.”

“It’s true,” the other guard said as he realized it. “My friend thought he heard something this morning.”

“Tell him that I need to talk to him and bring a replacement battery and something to refill the air in my tires for this truck if they can.”

“An Itrean?” the guard commented. Ioren nodded her head to him.

“An alien?” the other asked.

“I will contact Diallo. Remain here and don’t move.”

Stone and Ioren relaxed their stance as one of the guards walked back to a small wooden alcove near the entrance. He pulled out a metallic-looking object and was speaking into it. He was trying to get ahold of somebody.

“Be aware that Diallo has been here long before you Itreans ever arrived, Itrean,” the guard told both Ioren and Stone. “Whatever he tells me, what I need to do is what will be done.”

Stone was tempted to say something but only knew that anything he did would further aggravate the situation. Ioren, of course, couldn’t reply to it. His priority was clear on what needed to be done. After what seemed to take a minute, the other guard placed the metal device down and walked back to the other guard.

“Elder is on his way. He is bringing a mechanic to come check on the ... ehmm ... truck. Give him ten minutes.”

Stone and Ioren walked up next to the truck to lean on it. The guards continued to watch them, but they were more relaxed now. This allowed the Itrean to have an opportunity to look through the unmistakable interior of the village behind it.

She swore she could see some makeshift lights. There had to be some sort of fabricated power sources made and essential lighting to provide illumination. There were basic primitive houses constructed of various materials and scrap from whatever the prisoners could find. On the one hand, it looked like a peaceful place, but she had to remind herself of what these humans were. This location made L’Kibera look like a paradise. Even one of the guards had a tattoo on his arm that depicted a skull and dagger driven into it. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she knew that these weren’t innocent-looking individuals either.

There was something else that she swore that she saw as well. It was two children that were playing by one of the buildings. They were happily chasing and playing in the dilapidated area. It was brief but enough for her to note upon.

It took almost ten minutes for Diallo to arrive. Finally, he came out of the main dirt road with three other men. Stone knew immediately who the village elder was when he saw him. He was the type of individual with the typical dark complexion like most of the penal colony and Oshun members. He only had one arm and walked with a cane. He seemed like an older man, possibly in his seventies to eighties. He had a gray beard and a thick green shirt-like dress. Two other men came escorting him with similar bolt action rifles. A man holding onto a battery with various tools and a small makeshift air pump on his back was not far from them.

By now, the two that were guarding the main entrance had become used to seeing Stone and Ioren. Everyone seemed bored until Diallo arrived. Most treated him as either royalty or a man of respect the moment that they saw them. Both Stone and Ioren, however, were quite indifferent.

There was only the hint of a smile on the elder’s face. It was nothing spectacular, but one in which indicated that he wasn’t in a foul mood either. His walk was slow, but Ioren could tell that his focus was on her for some time. Once he got close enough to the two, he gave a defiant speech to them.

“Stone...” the elder’s voice was high-pitched. “I made a reminder to you that I don’t wish to see you, yet you come here.”

“Hmph...” he folded up his arms. “Well, I’m here then, and now I need your help to defeat your enemies.”

The elder gave a nod to his mechanic as he stepped forward towards the truck. The mechanic was a lean individual. Part of his jaw was missing, a sign that he had an augment there removed before being deposited here.

“Wait...” Diallo said as he raised his hand up. The mechanic stopped. “I need to hear you say it...”

“What?” Stone asked with some skepticism.

“You really did take down their trade post ... their place where they received their guns?”

“My partner and I can confirm this. I also have evidence to add to it.”

Ioren gave a quick nod that the elder even saw as well. Diallo then waved his mechanic to proceed. Stone stepped aside to let the mechanic begin his work. The hood was opened up as he started to remove the battery.

“I believe you, Stone.” The older man lightly lifted his cane and stabbed it to the ground as he looked at the Itrean. “Who are you?”

“She doesn’t have the ability to speak. She is my partner.”

The curiosity of the man finally drove him to walk up to her. She felt no tension as the guards were keeping a close eye on everything. It seemed that even with the growing darkness, the man’s vision was going. Even Stone could see cataracts that were developing on his lenses.

“What is your name?” he asked her.

“Her name is Ioren,” Stone answered.

“Every new prisoner in the last year mentioned about the Itreans. A lot ... smaller than expected. However...” He lifted his back a little bit as he slipped the cane to his armpit. He then extended his hand to hers in the form of a greeting.

Ioren understood that he wanted to shake her hand. There was only the faint smile on his face to show that he was trying to be friendly to her. The Itrean acknowledged it as she reached out and carefully grasped his while giving a firm shake. Even with the metal skin that she had, he still had some force in how he lifted his hand up and down. He released hers as he stepped away from her.

“Still more friendly than you, Stone,” Diallo chided the marine. “Every new prisoner that comes to this island, I always ensure if they are worthy of being a part of this village. I give the ones that Oshun drops off a chance to claim what they destroyed for themselves back in the mainland. On the other hand, you are solving problems for us.”

“Our next target is their main base of operations,” Stone told him. “With your help, it will make things a little bit easier.”

“Easier ... yes ... defeat an enemy,” the chief seemed flustered as his cane was unsteady. “My actions in helping you is a risk.”

“You outnumber them.”

“I do, and they have the firepower to repel it.”

“You have the opportunity to launch an attack on them now. The Syndicate will be pushed off this...”

The elder waved his hand at him. “I had this conversation with you before, Stone. The reason I’m helping you and not shooting you is because of that. You have angered them.”

“Good,” Stone simply replied.

“And they will lash out at everything as a result. I have to take extra precautions so everyone here can have a good night’s sleep.”

Ioren looked at the mechanic. By now, he had removed the energy cell battery and replaced it with a fresh one. He then pulled out the pump and started to check the tires. He could see the deflated one and attached the hose. It was a primitive foot pump. He began to lift his feet up and down as he started the slow process of putting air in there. By now, Ioren was curious enough to want to enter the conversation. She raised her hand that caught their attention.

“What?” Stone asked her. “Ah...”

“What?” the elder questioned.

“She wishes to speak. Ioren, go ahead and pull out your device. They are tilons. It’s her computer tablet device that they use. She uses it to speak for her.”

“Go ahead.” The elder waved his cane and hand at her.

Ioren went and pulled out her tilons. She opened it up and activated her translation program. She began to type as it translated her words.

“Diallo, my partner speaks the truth. They had Itrean weapons. I want to stop them, and we will.”

“Interesting to hear that thing speak for you. Yes, Ioren, I suppose you don’t know much about this place. My village is called ‘Dragon’s Hope,’ and it is our goal for those that make it to here to live together.”

“You mean criminals, rapists, and serial killers,” Stone remarked with a stern tone.

“Yes. I won’t deny our crimes,” Diallo explained. “This island is beautiful, but we must survive. Oshun may have forgotten about us, but it’s our job to live. I give everyone a chance to restart their lives. I have over five hundred that live here alone.”

“Men and women?” Ioren asked.

The chief gave a slow nod. “There was only one place for them to deposit their worst. The few that make it here are welcomed. We have our own rules established, our place for every person. All we ask is to be left alone.”

“Hmph...” Stone grunted.

“Elder,” the Itrean typed. “What can you tell me about the location south of us?”

“It’s the former prison facility. For some time, we used to live there after they abandoned the island, but ... we preferred to be with nature. Breathe the ocean air, fish, and farm. It wasn’t easy for us, but we did it. About several months ago, I started to hear rumors that something powerful had taken over the local marauders that still resided there. This syndicate began to recruit many of the newcomers before they could reach here. Later, they would drive our patrols away with their new firepower. Eventually, I had to end the patrols entirely.”

“Have they attacked your village?”

“Not yet, but I have had a few quiet threats from them. Much of the equipment that you see now is the remains of the things that Oshun left behind. We even have a car or two, much like you see the battery there,” he pointed with his cane at the mechanic.

“How do you know about the syndicate?”

“I had a defector that joined us. I won’t tell you his name, but from what he has told me, the organization or gang or whatever you want to call them would be receiving things that make them stronger. Supposedly, the leader is a she, from what I heard. There is also a rumor from him that tells me that they are building something big.”

“Something big?” Stone questioned him.

“I don’t know what it is.”

“What would they expect? Are they really perceiving you as that much of a threat?”

“It’s a rumor,” the elder reiterated. “Rumors can be easy lies.”

“Hmph...”

“Diallo,” the Itrean typed. “Do you know any weaknesses against them? Anything about the layout of the prison?”

“There is only one way in, and that is the main entrance. It is a fortress of walls to keep people like us inside. They have a landing pad not far from it. Their numbers are in the hundred or more, and that is all that I know.” He gestured behind her as she turned around. “All you have to do is drive south and keep going. There is only one paved road that leads straight to them. It is located the furthest southeast of this island as possible.”

Ioren couldn’t think of anything else that she could ask. Anything else would just be irrelevant. Even the elder felt ready to disengage from the conversation. She turned to look at the mechanic that was sweating as he kept pumping. By now, the tire was mostly reflated.

“I don’t need to do much more...” the mechanic said with a wicked whisper. “Assuming they survive, I would like this truck ... good parts if it doesn’t work.”

“That will be all that is needed,” the elder told him. “They can make it to their destination.”

“Thank you,” Ioren told him.

Diallo showed a look of concern as he turned to look at the village entrance. His face and head looked down as he turned to look back at Stone and Ioren.

“There is something that I ... ask that you can do for me,” the elder noted to them.

“We aren’t going to negotiate for your release,” Stone remarked.

“What is it?” Ioren typed.

“I’m helping you,” Diallo explained. “We want this island to ... return to what it was years ago at the very least. Many of us agree that we are here for a reason. I deserved my punishment and live with my choice every day, but there are those that don’t deserve to be here. The children...”

It dawned on Stone on what he meant as he could see the same two children that Ioren had spotted. Children, among prisoners.

“You want us to take your children?” Ioren asked.

“I want them to live a life other than what we have to go through.”

“They imprison children?” The Itrean turned her head to Stone.

“No...” Stone answered for her. “Some of the prisoners are women. They come to here, get married, assuming you have that here and have kids. Shit...”