The world was orange.

At least, the world around the compound was orange. Frank never saw much beyond that. He assumed the whole planet to look similar.

Orange.

Rocky.

Devoid of life.

However, he knew better than to believe no life existed outside of the compound. The force would occasionally bring people from beyond where Frank's vision ended. Those allowed that far, at least.

The people brought in were always taken to the lower level cells. Frank could never sneak a good look at them. Despite his best efforts, they were always kept hidden in some way. Frank didn't have the clearance to be front and center.

If he closed his eyes, however, he could almost picture the life beyond the rocky orange. He could feel the whisper of the air calling to him and hear the sounds of creatures he had never seen before.

"Force soldier."

Frank was pulled from his thoughts at the familiar voice and steps approaching behind him. He turned to see a figure walking up to him through the shadows. Immediately, Frank brought his heels together and crossed his left arm over his chest. He squeezed his hand into a fist.

"Force captain." He responded, standing straight as the figure stepped up to him.

A chuckle met Frank's stuff stature. "At ease, son."

Frank relaxed, dropping his salute. His father wore a small smile on his face as he stepped into the light. His uniform was a deep red, signifying his high position in the command ranking. Captain was one of the most respected positions in the force. It was the highest at the outpost and within the top four in the chain of command.

Frank's father had held the position for as long as he could remember. He was an intimidating figure both as a father and as a captain.

"To what do I owe the surprise?" Frank asked, bringing his hands behind his back and holding his wrists. He flexed his fingers as if to shake off the colorful visions he had been imagining. It made him nervous to even think about anything beyond the compound's sight around his father.

The Force Captain looked down at him. Despite Frank being nearly twenty, he and his father couldn't look eye to eye. His father had always claimed he inherited his mother's height.

"Have all of your tasks been accomplished, or are you wasting time gazing out into the zone?" His father questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Frank nodded. Each soldier was given a list of tasks, as dictated by their squadron leader, to complete by the end of the day. "My checklist complete. I've cleaned the bunker, wiped down the mirrors and windows, and emptied the squadron waste bins."

"Good lad." His father nodded with approval. "Seems that Squadron Leader Toro is keeping you busy."

"Yes, sir." Frank agreed. However, he didn't mention that his squadron leader had let him off easy because they were friends. Otherwise he would have been stuck with a toilet brush in one hand and high powered cleaning solution in the other.

"I'm glad you're free." His father continued, "I have something rather interesting that I would like you to see."

Frank cocked his head with curiosity, but his father said nothing. Instead, he beckoned him forward before turning on his heel and moving back into the shadows of the hall. Frank obediently followed, keeping in step with the Captain.

They moved in silence down the halls, footsteps in perfect sync. Frank held his head high, trying to look impressive rather than intimidated by the unknown he was venting into. He didn't usually see his father so early in the day, unless they were both in the canteen getting meal rations at the same time. It was unusual for the Captain to seek Frank out.

Possible punishments began to run through Frank's thoughts. What if he had discovered that Frank was getting off easy with his tasks? What if he was going to reassign Frank?

He gave his head a single shake. He didn't need to add more worry with "what if" questions. He didn't need to give reasons for distrust if this had nothing to do with the potential scenarios in his head. He instead turned his attention to his surroundings.

Many of the hallways in the compound looked similar, with few indicators to provide a location. However, Frank could recognize the blast marks that scorched the walls and ceiling. They were moving towards the loading bay. It was an area that most soldiers avoided unless assigned there. It was access to the outside that only higher ranking soldiers were given clearance to.

"May I ask where we are going?" Frank asked, trying to hide the curiosity that was rising in his chest. He had never been allowed in the loading bay. He had only ever stolen short glimpses in passing with small flashes of an opening that allowed access to their rocky surroundings.

"In a moment." Was the reply he received.

Frank kept his mouth shut and continued to follow his father. He knew better than to argue.

Minutes later, they stopped outside of a door Frank had never seen before. It nearly blended into the wall, minus the pencil thin red outline that traced its shape. It almost matched the patterning on other parts of the wall.

"Today, Force soldiers captured a rebel fighter." The Captain began to speak, prompting Frank to stand straight as he listened. "He is one that is extremely active to the rebellion, so his capture is a significant loss to them."

Frank nodded, though he wasn't sure why he was getting this debriefing alone rather than in a group setting. This was huge news. The rebellion, comprised of beings born on the planet, had recently become a true force to be reckoned with. Their tactics for taking down Force patrols had become increasingly successful and frustrating. They ran with their advantages and struck where they could. If this rebellion prisoner was such a key player to them, it could crumble their entire opposition.

"He is an interesting case." The Captain continued, "Not a full surrender, but he also did not fight back once he was surrounded."

"Perhaps he knew better than to fight back." Frank suggested at his father's pause.

"Perhaps." The Captain nodded, "However, it is a detail to be cautious of. He was a key player for a reason. Giving up so easily cannot be outside of the realm of some kind of plan he may be scheming. Which brings us to why you're here."

Frank tried to hide his surprise as his father looked him in the eye for the first time during the debriefing. There was a sternness looking back at him, as well as a small spark of something else. Pride?

"You're positioned to move up in the ranks." His father said, flatly. "You have worked hard with your tasks and everything assigned to you. This is your final test to see if you're ready."

"Ready, sir?" Frank's heart was racing. He was going to be promoted? Would he be assigned his own squadron of soldiers to take under his wing? Was he going to be trusted with access to the loading bay?

"Ready to become a squadron commander." The captain replied.

Frank's heart stopped. Squadron commander. That was a position that recently became available due to an unfortunate scouting mission. Everyone had been waiting to know who would fill the spot, and now Frank knew.

"I want you to watch and interrogate the prisoner to see if he'll crack. I want you to be the one in charge of overseeing him. This is how you can prove yourself."

"But... But, sir..." Frank felt at a loss for words. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts. "Don't I need to have experience running a squadron of my own first?"

"You will gain that experience when the time comes." His father cooly replied.

Frank gulped back another question. He wasn't sure he would be able to stop an endless stream of them if he let another one out. This was a lot of information to take in all at once. He had just been minding his own business minutes ago and now he was being prepared for a test that would thrust him into a position on the chain of command. He felt far from ready for such a thing.

"Remember the tools of interrogation?" The captain questioned.

Frank nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Do you remember the rules of interrogation?" The captain pressed further.

Frank silently gulped down his nerves. "Yes, sir."

The captain nodded. "Go on, then."

Just like that? Frank looked from the captain to the red outline on the wall. The stern look on the captain's face told him that, yes, just like that he was supposed to start.

Frank took a short breath and stepped forward. He stopped just short of the outline. He brought his heels together before pressing his palm against the cool, metal surface of the wall within the marking. At his touch, the wall pulled apart, granting him access to the loading bay.

The fact that it opened for him at all was enough to take Frank's breath away. However, everything on the other side stole it first.

Force vehicles were parked throughout the huge space, huddled in groups. Soldiers moved in small groups, going back and forth between the different vehicles as someone yelled cadence. Small robots zipped this way and that, beeping as their little heads turned in every direction. It was chaos, yet it was organized. It was almost mesmerizing to watch.

The greatest sight, however rested beyond the robots and the racing soldiers. Through a closing gate, Frank could see orange dust whipping through the air above the desert landscape. He could practically hear the clear howl and smell the fresh dust that seeped into the space.

Frank was transfixed on the sight as the gate fully closed. He had never been able to see it so clearly. He had never been able to hear the window without the muffler of metal. If he could make his body move, he would have run to the gate to try and reach his hand out just enough to touch it. He could practically hear it calling to him...

"Frank."

The captain's voice pulled him back to where he was. He watched the hanger door close completely, shutting the world out to him once again.

"He's this way."

Frank saw the captain walking to his side. Frank followed, feeling deflated after watching the door close. He couldn't explain it, but it had brought a feeling to his chest unlike any other had felt before. As quick as it had appeared there, it was gone. He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, trying to push himself past it. He needed to focus on the present moment and the prisoner he was about to be tasked with interrogating.

They maneuvered through mountains of crates and scrapped vehicle parts before stopping. An armed guard stood ahead of them.

"Here to see the prisoner, sir?" The guard addressed the captain, ignoring that Frank was even there.

"Indeed." The Captain nodded. "I'm also bringing the soldier that will take charge of his interrogation." He stepped to the side, forcing him to look at Frank.

The soldier looked him up and down. He felt like he was being put under an x-ray or microscope. It was an uncomfortable minute before the guard nodded. "Yes, sir. He's right in here, waiting to be transferred to one of our holding cells."

The Captain grunge and moved forward. The guard stepped to the side and crossed his left arm over his chest. Frank followed after his father, prompting the soldier to drop his salute.

Frank stepped around the corner. He found himself in a room shaped by crates. It was closed off in all ways except for the way they had entered. There was a single light, pointed and focused on a figure sat bound on the ground. The figure lifted its head at the sound of footsteps.

A face outlined by long, red hair looked around the space before fixing a gaze on Frank.

Hazel eyes. He had hazel eyes.

Frank stared at the boy, who looked him over with curiosity. He looked to be around the same age as Frank. His clothing was strange. He wore an oversized green shirt that looked something like moss, as depicted in soldier guide books. Around his waist was a thin cord holding up brown pants. His feet were bare and dirty.

"We confiscated a bag full of notes, potions, and a few other items." The Captain took a commanding tone as he spoke.

Frank nodded. That was his cue to speak. He needed to assert himself as someone intimidating. "What were you planning to do with that?" He asked the prisoner.

The red haired boy was silent. He stared back into Frank's eyes, as if asking a million questions of his own. Frank felt a stab of pity for him, even if he was some important player to the rebellion.

Frank cleared his throat. "Right... Let's restart." He knelt down to be eye level with the prisoner. "Give me your name. Mine's Frank."

He could practically feel his father's gaze boring a hole into the back of his skull. Mistake already made.

"Gerard." The red headed boy grinned, "Your intelligence group should have already known that. Maybe do your research before confronting the prisoner?"

Frank felt his cheeks flush. He should have asked that. Had his father gone over it and he simply forgot it in the whirlwind of information that was thrust upon him?

"Glad to know you can talk." Frank rose to his feet, trying to hide his embarrassment. He looked away from Gerard assessing the room again.

Beside the light, there was a small rolling cabinet. Within it, Frank knew he would find items of interrogation. He held back a shudder as he moved towards it. He could feel two sets of eyes upon him as he kept down and opened the cabinet.

Syringes of different colored liquids looked back at him from a tray within. From his time reading and rereading different handbooks and manuals, he could recognize what each one was.

"Tell me, Gerard..." He reached out and grabbed hold of one of the syringes with a pinkish liquid. "Why did you allow yourself to be captured?"

Gerard laughed. "Allowed? Your boys just got a lucky shot."

"Really?" Frank stood, still holding the syringe in his hand. He watched as Gerard's eyes focused on it rather than his face. "Someone so important to your cause? Got too cocky?"

The boys gaze turned to a glare directed at Frank. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Frank stepped closer to Gerard, holding the syringe in his hand tightly. "Do you want to know something I definitely do know, then?" Another step closer. "Everyone of this world has magic running through their veins. It gives them hope. It gives them strength. It makes them feel like they can be cocky, even as a prisoner of war." He was close enough to Gerard now that, when he knelt down, his face was just inches from Gerard's. "It helps you, but you don't need it to survive."

With that, Frank quickly brought the syringe to Gerard's neck and released the pinkish liquid. The red haired boy gasped as the magic diffuser spread into his veins. Frank pulled the syringe away and Gerard's limbs immediately went slack. His head fell forward on his chest before he fell to the side.

"Fuck you..." Gerard breathed, shutting his eyes tightly as sweat began to build on his brow.

"I'll be back with another dose tomorrow." Frank rose to his feet, "Don't worry. I hear it gets easier with time. Maybe then we can talk."

Frank turned away from the boy, catching his father's eye. The ghost of a smile played on his father's lips but, for some reason, it only made Frank feel a bit queasy.