Here’s a blast from the past. I figured I would dredge up an old piece and dust it off. Who knows where it will end up. Please keep in mind that this is a rough rewrite. If I can carve some time from Atom & Go I might keep chipping away at this piece.

Let me know what you think. Here it goes.

Hadrian’s Moon

            Power armor, what can I say, it’s a life saver.

I perched on the edge of a rooftop and leaned on my knees. The city slept. Below me the outer gate to the prison lay bathed in the full moon, not that I needed the nightlight to illuminate the scene, but I can’t complain about a scenic vista. My armor and the lights on the gatehouse pretty much cancelled out the moonlight.

On some level I would love to give you a wonderful back-story about where I came from, but that tends to get in the way of the story.

Suffice it to say, I was a slave. I’m not anymore.

The transport rolled into the floodlights with a hiss of brakes and grinding gears. I leaned forward, eager.

“Got eyes?” I chirped across the band.

A chorus of confirmation filled my helmet.

I watched as a full toon of soldiers disembarked from the transports and set a loose defensive perimeter at the edge of the light. They seemed afraid to toe the darkened line.

“Look at ‘em,” said Ravena. “They know we’re out here.”

“Think they can smell us?” I asked.

“You’ve been in that can running on a week now,” her light laugh seemed to brighten the moon a touch. “I can almost smell you through my filters.”

“Yer probably getting a whiff of your recycled goods,” Brain said.

“On point,” I drew them back to the task at hand. “They’re cracking the nut.”

The heavy prison gates crept open. My systems toned down the shriek splitting the air to protect my hearing and the speakers in my helmet. Like I said, power armor, it’s a life saver. At street level the transports kicked into gear and rumbled through the gates. Two transports, that meant at least forty pairs of boots for the mines.

I watched the soldiers fall back, their assault rifles sweeping the darkness with knowing nervousness.

“Strider, with me,” I said. “We’re hopping the fence. Brain and Ravena hold open our escape chute.”

Without waiting for the answer I launched into the air, a dark shadow that may have dramatically flitted across the moon to land on the parapets above me. I couldn’t tell you what I looked like. I was having too much fun flying.