Liberation

[Tomtomrawr]

Oberst Alison Falke marched down the winding corridors of the Osterholz, a Rheinwehr Cruiser previously stationed in Bremen, but currently stationed at the Hudson Jump Gate in Hamburg to assist in the defence of the Fatherland. Six Rheinwehr marines trailed behind, hoping that the Polizei Oberst would not breath fire on them. She had immediately been established as angry, and they had kept at a distance from her for the entire march to the cell.

Falke ran a hand through her short, grey hair as she marched in anger, her Polizei grade boots echoing in the tight space. She was fifty-nine years old, with short hair that had been grey for at least ten years, and sharp blue eyes that exhaled fear into those she challenged. Years of bad eating and little exercise had destroyed her figure, but she didn't care. She wasn't the type of person who cared about her looks. Just so long as she kept the eyes, she was as happy as a billionaire.

She was angry because she didn't need the constant assignments being pushed into her face. She had pilots of all ranks to train, she had a case about a human thigh ending up in a butcher shop, and now this? Inspekteur Putzkanner was driving her mad.

But she had other things to worry about. Specifically, the prisoner which had taken her away from her more important duties. Commissar Captain Alvin Katz of the Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army. She had no idea how the man had ended up on the Osterholz, or even why he had been in Bremen (the place she had been told he had been captured), but she was used to that. The Rheinwehr only shared details on a "need to know" basis. Ten years with them, and thirty with the Polizei had taught her to never expect much from them. All she knew was that the prisoner needed transportation to Vierlande, and the Rheinwehr couldn't be bothered to do it themselves. Typical.

The marines started to move at a faster pace, and she knew they would only risk moving closer if they needed to move infront. And the only reason she could think for them to do that was to unlock a door. Or a cell.

Unsurprisingly, she was correct. She saw the cell long before the marines overtook her. Infact, they only moved ahead of her at the last second, to keep her anger away from them. One of them removed a key from her breast pocket, and pushed it into the lock like a train on a track entering a tunnel. No mistakes.

The cell door screeched as it opened, and Falke actually wondered why there were cells with steel bars and not toughened glass walls. Were they trying to create a 16th Century prison on the Osterholz, or was the Rheinwehr as badly funded as the Polizei? If she were to bet on the answer, she would prefer to choose the second, but would pick the first everyday.

She examined her prisoner as he stepped forward from his bench. He stood proud, despite the fact that he was only wearing a dirty green cover-all. It was similar to hers, except the fabric on the prisoner-grade ones were designed to be itchy. Another deterrent from performing illegal operations in Rheinland. His hair had not been cut, and it was not starting to fall over his ears. His eyes showed determination, and may have been a challenge for even Oberst Falke to erode.

'You're being shipped to Vierlande.' Falke said this with an expressionless tone. Never show feelings in front of prisoners. 'You will come with us at once.' She watched as the prisoner stepped forward again, and moved out of the cell. The marines kept their weapons trained on the back of his head, with Oberst Falke very close to their line of fire. She knew that the prisoner would not try to escape. He wanted to help the people the way he believed he was doing so, and wouldn't throw that away. Not yet, anyway.