PT 115: Paving With Good Intentions

Caught between the desire to beat Jodie, and the equally powerful desire to sit down and smoke with her, you instead snatch the joint from her fingers.

“Go back to the cabin,” you point with your free hand as you prepare to drop the joint and stamp it out. “Go have a shower.”

“Hey, give that back!” Jodie scowls at you. Her face twists up in an expression of pure entitlement and annoyance.

Before you can tell her that there’s no way in hell you’re giving her the weed back, before you can even drop it, you’re interrupted by a gruff voice.

“What do we have here then?”

You turn to see two military policewomen standing behind you. Two tall, stern ladies with round helmets and full bore scowls.

“This isn’t mine,” you say quickly. “I just took it off her and I’m trying to get her to…”

“You’d better come along with us,” the say. “Both of you. Smoking plant material is forbidden on base.”

Jodie submits easily to the MP who takes her by the arm and pulls her up from the ground.

“Cadet was trying to make me smoke it,” she lies. “I told her no, but she said it would be good for me. I’m so glad you guys came now.”

“She’s lying!” You gasp the words after her, but she’s already being led away by one of the MPs who seems to be sympathetic to her story.

“Come with me,” the remaining MP says to you as you shake your head in total disbelief.

“No,” you say. “Really. You have to listen to me…”

“I don’t have to listen to a damn thing,” the MP says in a growl. “That’s enough attitude out of you.”

This is crazy! You can’t be in trouble, that’s not even fair. As the MP reaches for you, you pull your arm back and shake your head.

“This really isn’t mine. Terra can tell you what’s going on. She’s just back in the cabin…”

“Stop resisting,” the policewoman insists. “We’ll sort this out back at the cells.”

Cells. You’ve seen enough cells to last you a lifetime. “No, come on, please…”

The MP takes hold of you firmly, grasping your wrist and snapping a pair of cuffs on it. She twists you around and snaps the cuffs onto the other wrist as well.

“You’re under arrest,” she informs you from behind.

You really can’t believe this is happening. This is so deeply unfair. You’re marched through the forest and back onto the main trails that pass through the camp. On your way down to the cells, you catch sight of a familiar face. Instructor Gray. She’s standing outside the MP post, talking to another woman. You turn your head as you go past and shrink down, hoping that she doesn’t recognize you.

In short order, you’re hauled into the police post and put into a single cell at the end of a row of cells. Still cuffed, you start to walk in circles, hoping that someone helps you soon. The MPs don’t seem inclined to even talk to you. In their mind, it’s an open and shut case. You were caught red-handed with the weed. You can only imagine the lies Jodie is spewing in order to save her own butt.

As minutes tick by and nobody comes, not even to loosen your cuffs, you start to realize that you’re going to have to wait for Terra to find you. You sit down on the narrow bench at the back of the cell, cursing the moment you laid eyes on Jodie.

“Well, well, well, Cadet…” a low female voice growls outside your cell.

It’s Gray. Your relief at finally having someone talk to you turns to stomach quivering fear as you look into her eyes and see a dark sort of triumph. You hardly know this woman, but she has managed to put the fear of several small gods into you. The moment you make eye contact, you drop it again and squirm nervously.

“I didn’t think things would go well,” she says. “But I didn’t think you’d get yourself locked up within hours. That’s a real feat.”

“Ma’am, would you please let Terra know where I am?”

“I’ll let her know soon enough,” Gray says. “First you and I are going to settle the score between us. You questioned me today. You thought you knew better. You were wrong. Right now, being wrong means being locked up. You do it in the field, it’s going to mean death.”

You hear the jangling of a key. “I’m going to deal with you, Cadet,” she says, opening the door of your cell. “And you’re not going to question me again.”

Cuffed and trapped in the small cell, there’s nowhere to run and absolutely nowhere to hide.