//------------------------------//
// VII - Preparations 
// Story: Half-Hoof: Dire Circumstances 
// by Alfoals Trottenbauer 
//------------------------------//

Their cell's door opened. It was night. Two prison guards with automatic shotguns escorted both Ace and gordon out of the cell. They were headed to their pods. They were walked at gunpoint down a long, dark corridor.

The room at the end was pitch black, save for a cyan light emanating from a control panel.

Dr. Bray sat at an office chair in  front of the panel.

The red guards stopped and saluted at the doorway.

"Sparks, Freemane." He greeted.

The lights flickered on.

There were two chairs behind him.

"Have a seat." 

The guards pushed them into the chairs.

"You can still take a turn from your fate and run for office. I'm certain the citizens of City 26 will vote in your favors." He said as he indicated toward a monitor.

The whole town's population was rounded up. They were all smiling.

"Why would we work for you?" Ace asked.

"Put them into their pods." Bray commanded the guards.

They were walked to the jet-black cases. They opened and they were shoved in. The pods snapped shut, straightening their legs downward.

The pods drug along their tracks lazily. Ace looked to both of his sides. There were thousands of the same case, all on racks, towering above them.

There were screams resonating from the chamber.

Stalkers. They were in pain, what was left of them could feel pain. After a long, sluggish journey, they were on one of the racks. A citizen was next to Ace.

"You're on your way to surgery too?" The citizen asked.

"Yeah, what did you do to get here?" Ace replied.

"I talked back to an officer, wrote me up for assault and treason." He stated.

"When, if, the resistance gets us, I'll make sure you get out. What's your name?" Ace said hopefully.

"Rumble." He answered with his ears lowered.