Lockdown - 16 by Alexander Shaw

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SUMMARY: Does anyone have any thoughts? Any observations? Any dreams they'd like to share? I'd love to hear them. Not that I'm lonely or anything.

Chapter 16 – Level 1-200 Workers Union Headquarters.

--/Day 7 14:06 Hours/--
--/Level 7-170 Rental Workspace G/--

Davan and the work crews had been working damned hard over the last two days. Bay G was now clean and clear. The burned out crap that wasn't salvageable was gone, only two chairs and part of a desk were still present, and by now the floors weren't covered in burn scars and ash. They were the same dull grey as the rest of the station. Some of the walls might never be clean again, the burns too deep to be removed. On top of these, Davan planned to place units and workbenches. He didn't want the dead haunting him.

"I've got a delivery for a Tenzanin?" A voice disturbed his admiring of his handiwork. Turning, Davan noticed that it was the same deliveryman that had come last time. The one who had said something about the ‘Workers Union', whoever the hell they were meant to be. Davan sighed, then walked up to stand in front of the deliveryman. He wasn't carrying an order.

"What do you want?" He asked, not politely.

"The Union wants to see you tomorrow, 18:00." He pulled a contact card from his pocket. "Level 1-200, you can't help but find them when you get there. Ask for the Chief." Davan took the card. "Like what you've done with the place, by the way." The deliveryman said, smiling. Davan nodded. The deliveryman left. What the hell was this now?

--/+4 minutes/--
--/Level 10-108 Marketplace/--

Grissom was feeling better now. His injuries had faded almost completely, some minor discolouration of skin over his forearm and stomach, but Doc Chloe's treatments had been working just the trick. He could wear his armour again, he had been unable to on the first day, and even begun to train again in the fighting pits gym, albeit lightly. He was running short of food, having spent the last two days mostly at home watching the fight videos. Thus, he was at the marketplace, collecting groceries and fresh, red meat. His diet was strictly balanced.

The fighting videos were of the other main arena competitors. Thirteen of them were not what he considered ‘serious' competition. Most were game and all looked skilled, but he knew himself to be of a higher league than them. Four more were of concern. Sordii, lightning fast with the blade, Deadeye, a deadly markswoman, Faceless, skilled at all forms of martial arts. All of these he believed would proved serious challenge to him. But then there was Kobra. Kobra was something else entirely. Grissom finished his shopping, then headed for home.

--/+38 minutes 41 seconds/--
--/Level 7-167 Corridor Outside Horus Grissom's Personal Accommodation/--

Davan was looking down at the contact card the deliveryman had left, hoping that staring at it long enough would reveal the secrets to a dozen questions he had buzzing in his mind. There had been no answer to his ringing of the buzzer. He pressed it again, feeling a slight annoyance. Where was a muscle bound heap of testosterone when you needed him?

"What do you want?" The voice was definitely male, Nethrek, ugly and coming from behind him.

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