4 A.C.I (After Confederation Invasion)
"Open up!" The guards' voice echoed off the walls as if bouncing off the inside of Be'cena's mind.
The energy field flickered, before disappearing completely, and as the shimmering light disappeared, iron bars were revealed in all their grimy glory.
They clattered with an incredible racket, that sounded louder than even the guard shouting down in his ear. Inside was a wave of voices, laughing, taunting, crying, and moaning.
Be'cena felt a hand shove him forward, waking him up to his new reality. He was stepping into a den of scum, but he couldn't decide who was worse, the inmates, or the ones keeping them here.
Through the main door, he looked up to the high ceilings and saw the floors of neatly stacked cells, filled to the brim with criminals. The place was filthy, and the fetid stench of a thousand bodies, fluids, and musky clothes invaded his nostrils. He would have covered his nose if he wasn't worried about being targeted.
"Rothel." The word fell out of his mouth in a whisper against a wall of noise.
The prison had a reputation for being the worst in Free Space, and it was on the capital planet, of all places.
Be'cena found it hard to believe that this place was worse than the prisons of the the Fringe Worlds. Then again, maybe it was more likely that someone would be killed for their transgressions on those worlds.
A crash of water hit the ground right in front of him, and the liquid soaked the bottom of his legs. A bout of laughter could be heard from above. Be'cena looked up to see a Triskani peering down at them. Then the smell hit him.
"You!" The guard leading the collum shouted. "We'll see how funny you are." He complained under his breath, as boots on the walkway above could be heard.
There was a struggle, but soon the sound of shuffling, and dragging was made clear.
"Come on, keep moving!" The guard shouted.
Be'cena started the line moving once more. After a few steps, he got a baton to the gut. The wind was nearly knocked out of him. He managed to stay standing though.
"This is your cell." The guard said as he knelt down to unchain him from the rest of the group.
Released from his shackles, he was pushed to the left, into a darkened cell.
There was someone inside, who made no effort to look up. Be'cena held his stomach, while outside the guard slammed the bars. He was trapped in here, with a complete stranger. All he could do was stand, and look out at the line of people as it continued up the hall. Close by was a staircase, with a Dosha guard posted beside it.
Be'cena leaned against the bars, and just looked out, and listened to all of the chaos around him. He wished this wasn't his life. He wished he was anywhere else. None of this made any sense.
He heard a bang. Felt the bars rattle. Looked to see the Doshan guard standing beside the cell. Then noticed the pain pulsating through his right hand. There was no scream and no wince. But, he held the hand that had been struck.
"No leaning on the bars. No hands out of the cell." The Doshan said coldly, as he whacked the cell bars once more. "Fuckin' Human."
The guard walked away, and Be'cena cradled his hand. He continued to stare out of his cell and saw one of the inmates in the cell opposite him. They were laughing at him.
