“We’re going to take Ying up for questioning.” Kerrick practically yelled over the com. I wanted to scream at him. How could he be so thick? A guy thinks he’s so good, so law abiding he forgets we don’t all have the pleasure. Idiot’s just as likely to get us in trouble as Vet who can’t keep his mouth shut and his blaster in his pants. But still. It was my plan, and damned I was sticking to it. I decided to look meek when we asked for an escort. But really, my blood was racing, boiling through my veins. It all came back. All of it rushing back. I stared at the helmets of the troopers on the lift with us. Did they know me? What did they think, what did they want? Did they really want to be Sloane’s playthings? Didn’t they have any passions?
I managed to hold my cool until we were on the lift. I flicked my eyes at Kerrick and hoped he was clever enough to catch on. Then I shoved forward. Blood rushed in my ears. I elbowed Kerrick and the other troopers lunged forward, letting me grab at their belts and snatch a frag grenade off it as Kerrick hit the emergency stop button. And that moment. They were silent. And I screamed. And sweat dripped down my back and my breath was ragged and my eyes were wide and I was in control. And I stared into their eyeless helmets and I knew they couldn’t be happy taking orders because this, this was power. This was the only way you could live because otherwise someone was going to tell you what to wear and what to do and what to think. It doesn’t matter if they say you’re insurrectional or unhinged because they’re just trying to keep you from knowing the truth. If you have to scream and hit and tear them apart you do it so they don’t control you.
Honestly, I was a little disappointed I didn’t drop that grenade.