It ain't much.
“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here for a while. We’ll get a ship up and ready soon enough and go find your crew.” Alexander stated, which was enough to snap Nathan back into reality, causing him to make his choice immediately. Never having been one to go back on his word, the Captain walked forward placing his hand onto Alexander’s shoulder in a gesture of thankfulness. As he finished, he let a short sigh escape before he changed his mind and began to regret his decision; a promise was a promise though and Alexander was too much of a liability to let roam uninhibited. As the doppleganger went to turn toward Nathan, he’d feel pressure being applied to his throat before the other hand came up over his mouth. Not understanding at first, the Supervisor gasped for air only to find it cut off from him. Realizing that it was Nathan whom was choking him at the moment, he growled in fury, struggling against the hold and attempting to shake his duplicates grasp. Strength began to ebb away as Alexander’s lack of oxygen began to starve his muscles, gritting his teeth, he knew what he had to do.
Everything happened so fast afterwards, Nathan didn’t have time to prepare, nor did he even realize it was happening until it was almost over. All he could do was watch as his world completely flipped over; his head pushing itself upward before it hit the ground. Alexander was a fighter, that much was sure now as Nathan pieced together the events that led to his current situation. His look-a-like had pushed his leg right behind the Captain’s, twisted his hip and in an instant gripped his coat and hammered into him. Only the instant thought of, I’m falling, remained in Nathan’s mind as the action sent him off balance and hurtling to the ground. Almost catching himself, the sudden halt of momentum gave his doppleganger enough time to sling his arm back around and send the Captain crashing to the ground. Coughing in a sputtering manner from the surprise, while Alexander did the same in order to get air back into his lungs, the two men stared at each other for only a brief moment before they went back at it.
Leaping to his feet, Nathan was soon surprised by the speed that Alexander could muster. The Scottish version of himself overtaking him with in an instant of rising to his feet and forcing him to the defensive. Adopting the defensive boxing stance that he had taught himself as a child, it was all he could do to weather the furious blows that came sailing his way. A string of jab combinations and then a haymaker or two had pushed Nathan back into a wall before a left hook to his kidney sent a pain roaring down his side. That dull ache righted itself almost immediately; however, the male wasn’t about to take being treated like a rag doll lying down. Leaping forward, to Alexander’s surprise, Nathan went into what boxers’ called a ‘Super-man punch’ Jolting his entire body forward while throwing his momentum into his right fist, the Captain swung heavily into the supervisor’s face. Feeling the skin ripple around his blow as the man’s cheeks contorted around his knuckles, Nathan took in a grim feeling of satisfaction. At least, he did until Alexander countered with another thunderous right hook directly to the Captain’s jaw.
Pain laced through both of their faces, but neither one backed down as they staggered, then quickly righted themselves again. Spitting to the side, the supervisor expelled a small stream of spittle mixed with his blood before wiping his mouth off. Cracking his knuckles, the male had lost all interest in talking to Nathan and was now contemplating different ways of smearing him across the floor. The Captain meanwhile was staring straight ahead at his opponent, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing him shaken in any manner. As he moved in closer towards Alexander, the two men seemed about ready to jump down each other’s throat; however, it was at this point that the supervisor remembered something, the realization evident before his hand descended immediately and began to pull up a pistol of some sort. That was all the cue that the former janitor needed, he charged him, gripping his wrist and forcing it upwards before the two went into a brutal exchange of blows.
Alexander got in the first strike, slamming his knee into Nathan’s gut as he continued to hold up his wrist, refusing to allow the supervisor to shoot him. Grunting once, the former farm-boy reached around to the back of his look-a-like’s head. Taking control of the situation, he began to send his knees up toward Alexander’s gut and hips; as soon as one made contact, he would send the next and kept this chain going in rapid succession. Caught off-guard and feeling every blow, the mine employee started to back up, trying to break away, but Nathan’s grip on his head and his wrist were much tighter this time around. Sustaining this, the Captain didn’t stop ramming his knees into Alexander suddenly gasped for breath and dropped the weapon. As it clattered to the floor, Nathan swept his foot backwards, kicking it beneath benches surrounding the lockers as they continued to wrestle. No longer needing to worry about the gun, Nathan released his wrist, pounding into the side of Alexander’s face and forcing it backwards into the locker. As every blow pelted downward into his skull, the supervisors body began to go limp, the life draining from his eyes as he could feel himself losing consciousness. Lids of his eyes fluttering, the Scottish look-a-like decided to try one last gambit.
The blows stopped raining down onto Alexander; Nathan stepped back, panting slowly as he saw blood trickling down the side of the supervisors face where he had cut him. Chest heaving up and down, there was little else that needed to be down aside from switching clothes with Alexander and then make sure the man wasn’t going to be a further nuisance. Turning his back to find some rope, he noticed a few zip ties and a roll of good old fashioned duck-tape sitting in the locker in front of. Thanking his luck and reaching in to grab it; he nearly shrieked in pain when Alexander revealed himself to be conscious and fully capable of cognitive thought. Before Nathan had a chance to react, his arm was wedged into the locker and being slammed repeatedly against the two edges. Feeling soon dissipated from the appendage as he fought in vain to free his arm, being unable to stop Alexander’s assault because of the awkward situation. When he felt his arm become completely numb, Nathan swore at himself, only to find his head being slammed into the side of the locker, then put in his arm’s place.
Everything turned red after that as he slumped down, feeling the sensation of the steel trying to slice his skull in half. Twitching with every blow that he took, Nathan tried to think of a way out of it. Kept trying to think, but all he got was the agony of the brain telling him that he was dying. As blood began to drip down the side of his body; he stopped moving at all, almost resigning himself to fate before he realized that Alexander was getting ready to finish him off. The locker door was now wide open, but Alexander had moved behind him, getting a better angle to slam the door on him; before he could finish his preparation, Nathan’s foot bolted backwards. Feeling his boot connect with something soft and relatively small, he understood that he had just smashed his foot into Alexander’s groin. Getting up with his entire world in a haze, he could see the supervisor, wide eyed and obviously in pain. Righting himself, though his vision still blurry from the obvious concussion that he had sustained during the fight, the farmer’s son twisted at his hip snapping a kick to the side of Alexander’s head hurtling against the cast iron of the benches. Nathan knew it didn’t matter though, the man was out cold before he had collided with the metal, it had only added insult to injury.
Groaning in pain as he moved closer to Alexander, Nathan went through the arduous task of undressing the male with just one arm. Knowing that his arm was broken now pissed him off more than anything; however, he’d have to make due until he could find a doctor. Blood still ran down his face, making him look suspicious; however, his likeness to the supervisor made it possible to pass off as an accident in the field, at least that is what he believed. Stripping the other male down as quickly as he could, he made sure to get the jacket off of him, realizing that no one could see his under clothes anyway, left him with his under shirt and underwear intact. Switching into them, he stared irritated that he couldn’t wear his hat any longer or he’d give himself away. Shaking his head, he stuffed it into the nearby locker before tearing a piece of duck-tape off between his teeth and slapped it over Alexander’s mouth. What came next was likely the hardest part of the entire process though.
“Fucking Zip ties.” Nathan grumbled to himself, constantly fiddling with one around the supervisor’s legs and attempting to get it through the loop with just one hand. Having already failed at least twenty times, he finally pulled it back as far as could, then repeated the process with Alexander’s wrists. As painfully easy as the process was with two hands, it was borderline impossible with only one; finally, he managed to slip the white band around his wrists and tighten it into a pair of make-shift handcuffs. Happy with his accomplishment and shoving him into the open locker; he sighed and wrestled with yet another zip-tie through the lock and finally got it sealed. Shuffling his feet and leaning against the wall as blood dripped from his skull; the male dizzily made it to the water fountain. Using his body to activate the water, he began to splash his face and clean up the blood there to lessen the injures that had appeared. Already, he could visibly see where some swelling was going to occur and several brushes were beginning to appear over his body. “Well, fucking hell, don’t I look like someone just shit a load of bricks on me.” The captain stated viciously at his own reflection in the chrome. Fishing around in the supervisors pockets and jacket, he came across his wallet and found a good seven hundred credits inside of it, along with his key card.
“Well…at least I found something useful and a little bonus for my trouble.” He told himself, before remembering the gun which he had kicked under the benches. Almost slapping himself for forgetting it, he staggered over to the spot where he had seen it disappear before crouching down to pick it up. Examining the item, it was obviously designed by the mining company itself, as the logo for the place was built right into the handle. Keeping his cool, he took a moment to familiarize himself with the name of the company: “Port Langrid” along with their logo of three planets with a starship in the middle. “Well, that is one bit of information, though I’m not sure if this place is run by Port Langrid or if this is just someone being sponsored by them. Looking back down at the gun and twisting it up and over around in his hand, he liked the feeling of the Teflon grip and the sleek appearance modeled after a Rossi Cyclops. Running his eyes down the six inch barrel, he slowly pocketed the weapon before making his way back to the steel double doors. Swiping the newly found keycard through the scanner before walking through the doors and down a narrow corridor, Nathan wasn’t exactly sure what to think of the place.
Everything seemed so bland and meek, the floors were simple black and white tiles stretching down almost like a hospital like manner, while the white plaster walls stretched up to an equally white ceiling. Something about it reminded him too much of a prison or a school, causing a shiver to go down his spine as he wandered past light fixtures and a bathroom. Finally after walking for about three minutes, he ended up staring a black sign in front of three different paths. Corresponding with these paths were green arrows, each blinking once every four seconds to draw the eye. The one to the left stated that it lead to the Armory, the one to the right claiming to lead to the Emergency Medical station. Nathan’s eyes lit up at the words, medical station but also to at the armory as well. If a serious fire-fight broke out, he doubted the single ion-pistol that he had on him would be enough to fend off all of the numerous guards that were likely around this place; however, the medical stations could fix up all of his injures and make his disguise that much more convincing. Finally his eyes caught the last arrow, Front Desk, where he figured there would likely be a secretary or some computer with this places schematics. Where to go first though? He knew it was only a matter of time before someone came in looking for him or Alexander and the latter could wake up at any moment. Now wasn’t the time for indecision, but was at a loss once again.
A. Proceed to the Medical Station
B. Proceed to the Armory.
C. Proceed to the Front Desk.
