Chains

94. Ch12 S6

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INDEX | Chapter 12 | Scene 1 | Scenes 2 & 3 | Scenes 4 & 5 | Scenes 6 & 7 | Next Scene → Coming soon.

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Previously: Misty gets expelled after she freaks out at the party, putting two girls in the hospital for teasing her. Victor Morgan himself shows up to take her into PG custody.

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The Base looms ahead. It’s buildings camouflaged to mimic the canopy makes it hard to spot at a distance, but I remember it well. The fence. The guard towers. The sharp gravel courtyard. I sit stiffly between my guards while the shuttle’s engines whine down. I glance at them and sigh. The hulking Drakisthan warriors with assault rifles at the ready, have their energy signal detectors on high alert for any spike from me, so I can’t even do anything about the bite of these shackles.

I hesitate, stepping off the ramp as gust of wind hurls dust at me. I smell rain in the air, but there’s no time to survey the sky in search of clouds as my guards shove me forward and the stones cut into my bare feet. Thunder rumbles overhead as memories of Tom blur the present, haunting me. He was so heroic that day. If only he had known that I was fine. I’d built a life for myself here. And I burned it all down in one night, on the spur of the moment. It’s been more than two years, and I’ve hardly thought about it until now, walking through the complex to the, narrow, bare, interrogation rooms.

I sit down in the bolted chair as they chain me to the ground, lost in thought, barely aware of my surroundings. Everything was fine. I wasn’t exactly happy but I wasn’t looking for a way out either. When Tom burst into my cell, lit up in all his princely glory, that was all that mattered. Then he got shot, and I had to get him out. There was no time to think about what I’d be leaving behind, or the consequences of it or anything. When I woke up, everything was settled and I just fell in line with Luke’s expectations as if I’d never left at all. Now I’m back here, because I can’t fit in out there. Maybe I’m not meant to.

The door bursts open and the General’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Well, well well, Little Elle…” but it’s the quiet presence behind him that stings more than the nickname. The lieutenant’s uniform, charcoal black knee length skirt and shiny silver buttons and medals, tab in hand and that tight chestnut ponytail.

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I pace the length of General Morgan’s office, back and forth, determined to wear a hole in the navy blue carpet by the time he gets here. It was nice of them, I suppose, to let us wait here, rather than the impersonal administrative offices, but we’ve been here for hours and not seen anyone but the secretary anyway.

Luke sits in one of the wenge wood chairs with his tab, scrolling while I scowl.

“What on Earth Prime is be taking so long?!” I mutter under my breath. Luke looks up at me, and my anger flares.

“I can’t believe you let them take her.”

“Let them?” Luke asks coolly, “I didn’t let them do anything. You think I like this?”

The door opens before I can fire back, and Victor Morgan steps into view, his pristine uniform, an extension of his calculated arrogance, gleaming medals and tightly laced boots and all.

“Luke! Always a pleasure,” he says extending a hand with that infuriating smirk.

Luke doesn’t move to take it, his entire demeanor changing, coiled and cold, as he stands setting the tab aside. He glares at Morgan’s hand, pointedly not shaking it. The smirk doesn’t waver.

“Where is she?” Luke demands, his low voice carrying a dangerous edge. The rage radiates off him like a furnace.

Morgan chuckles lightly, dismissing Luke’s fury as thought it were nothing. “I see your temper hasn’t improved,” he says, his voice light but pointed. ‘Though I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Luke’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“She’s here, safe.” Morgan continues, leaning back slightly, exuding an air of control. I’ll be honest, your girl has got herself in a whole heap of trouble. She’s facing serious time with those charges, and the Minister Liebenberg’s daughter wants her for attempted murder. I kept your son’s name out of it for now, but they want him as an accessory as well.”

I stiffen, my fists clenching at the man’s smug tone and the way he carries himself, as if he owns the room. Every part of me screams to act, to say something at least, but Luke raises a hand, cutting me off before I can move.

“Logan stopped her.” Luke says evenly, his deliberately calm voice carrying a subtle influence.

“He was there.” Morgan continues smoothly, “He could have intervened earlier.”

Luke’s gaze sharpens, again he refuses to rise to the challenge. “What do you want?” He asks quietly.

Morgan’s smirk deepens, his tone almost playful. “The same thing I’ve always wanted, Luke. I’ll level with you. I want you. And not just consulting—I’m talking back on board, full service.”

The air in the room feels heavier, the weight of Morgan’s words pressing down on us. Luke’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. He doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches, thick and charged.

Morgan’s words hang in the air like a snare. I glance at Luke, sensing the storm brewing under his icy exterior. His outward calm masks a whirlwind of frustration, fear, and guilt. He’s not just considering it—he’s resolved.

“You can’t!” The words burst out of me before I can stop them, raw and urgent. I step closer to him, ignoring Morgan’s pleased smirk.

Luke looks at me, his eyes sharp and unyielding, softened only slightly by a hint of compassion.

“There’s no other way, son.”

“There has to be,” I protest. “You—we don’t own him anything after Tom. You know what this will cost you.”

“It’s my choice to make, Logan.” Luke’s tone is final, he won’t tolerate any arguing over this.

Instinctively, I bite back a dozen retorts, clenching my fists as helplessness churns in my gut. The swell of emotions—frustration, anger, fear—has nowhere to go but inward. Luke turns his attention back to Morgan, the conversation effectively over.

Morgan’s smirk widens, as if it were even possible. He gestures to the door. “Shall we? You’ll want to see your girl. Cathy should be done with the debrief by now.”

We follow him through the maze of sterile corridors, the antiseptic smell of the place clinging to the air. Each turn tightens the knot in my chest. My thoughts spin, unbidden, landing on Tom. How far we are from the prison wing? How many steps to the cell where he was shot? does his death even mean anything if Luke comes back to work here? How many more sacrifices will this place demand?

The thought trails off, unfinished when Morgan stops in front of a room with a small observation window. I step closer, my breath catching when I see Misty sitting stiffly, chained.

She’s looking down, her shoulders drawn tightly like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Across from her, Cathy looms, her presence almost as oppressive as her father’s. Her uniform is impeccable, every button and medal polished to a gleam. Her stance mirrors Morgan’s, predatory and deliberate as she leans forward, speaking in a low, controlled voice I can’t hear through the glass.

I close my eyes, reach out to her through the sense sync, but there’s nothing—she’s still blocking me.

“Get her out of there.” Luke growls through clenched teeth.

Morgan cocks his head, feigning consideration, though his smirk never falters. “I could. But you know the terms.”

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Next Time: Cathy, picks up things Misty doesn’t want to reveal by reading her body language, and Misty realizes something surprising and worrisome that prompts her to finally give in to Logan’s offer of training. Luke’s sacrifice weighs heavily on Logan and the two head off to the mountains to lie low while they try to come up with a plan to free him.

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Author’s Notes:

I’m late. (Crosses arms, makes grumpy face.)

It wasn’t entirely my fault. I was revising the draft for today, and hesitant to schedule it in case I ended up getting busy with life stuff and forgot to do the finishing touches again, like last week, then the power went out—and stayed out. For over 20 hours. (Hence: grumpy face.)

Anyway… Here it is. A little shorter than usual because of… stuff, but I’m hoping to make it up to you guys soon.

So, that’s all for today.

Thanks for reading!

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Until next time.

- Jenny*

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Oh, and I’m trying tagging for Sci-Friday, so hoping this works…

Dré Labre , Kevin Alexander, Rudy Fischmann, BrianAlfred1983, Alejandro Piad Morffis, Hannah Yoest, Jeff Kinnard, Alex S. Garcia, Michael S. Atkinson, Ross Bingham, Scoot, radicaledward, Lausanne Davis Carpenter, Cole Noble, Jordan Moloney, John Coon, Edward Rooster, Redd Oscar, Andrew Smith, Jon T, Daniel M. Bensen, Zachary Roush, Stirling S Newberry, Rachel LaDue, Keith Hayden, Kay Moulton, David Sheley, L.L. Ford, The Brothers Krynn, Michaela McKuen, S Tallett, René Volpi, Sam Rake Kathrine Elaine, Ika Wright, Von, Jessica Maison, and Ryan Schneider,Matthew Brady, Thérèse Judeana, and Ryan W. CraverBryan Beal, njmksr, A.C. Cargill, Author, TIBERIUS, Keith Patterson, Michael B. Morgan, The Black Knight, and M.P. Fitzgerald - Graphomania, Andy Futuro.