In the shadowy void, dimly illuminated by the small slit on the wall, there dangled a tattered young man in a bar jail cell. He was shackled to the brick wall and barred in a cell with fodder for his padding. The poor young man even resembled the scarecrows that were placed upon the fields. A ruddy unkempt clot of hair adorned the head. His green pupils peaked out of his eyelids every now and then to spy out his surroundings before he again tries to solaced himself with the thought of sleep. A dirtied linen shirt adorned his upper body as a pair of brown pants covered his legs secured by rope to his waist. He was robed with a tattered mantle upon his shoulders. His left foot was loosely fitted with only half a pair of sandals with the other half on the floor beside his right foot.

A distant noise could be heard. The young man made it out to be footsteps and rustling of the guards. Two guards who were dragging a man behind them came into view and approached the jail cell where the young man dangled. One of the guards mumbled something while the other one swiftly opened the door that was to the left of the young man.

"Should we shackled this one also?" asked one of the guards.

The other guard replied, "just dump this piece of trash onto the floor."

They did just. The other person was thrown onto the fodder laden dirt floor. The person moaned. The young man stared at his new cell mate for a moment and then went back to trying to get some sleep. The person was lying in the middle of the cell before the young man's feet. A question of what type of crime the person committed went through the mind of the young man. The person on the floor turned his head towards the young man. The young man was able to see that the person was a middle aged man. A burly man in a full body suit with some sort of military designation on the shoulders.

The middle aged man struggled to speak. The young man just looks on wondering. Again the middle aged struggled to speak but he seemed to be exhausted. His lips failed to form any words from the air being breathed out. The middle aged man grunted with frustration and laid on the ground slowing gasping for air. A moment later, the man managed to produce a few words.

"What's your name?" whispered the man on the floor.

The young man didn't give an answer nor would he care to give out his name to a stranger. The middle aged man tried to inquire again.

"What's your name?"

Again the young man refused to give a reply but again the middle aged man persisted. This happened four more times before the young man, getting impatient, finally answered.

"My name is Bastion. Just leave me alone, okay?!" retorted Bastion.

The man tried to laugh but coughed instead.

"Mighty fine name, Bastion."

"Of course it was a fine name," Bastion thought.

His mother was the one that gave him that name when she first gave birth to him 17 years ago. Bastion tried to recall what his mother looked like. A beautiful, fair woman with ruddy cheeks. He shared his mother's green eyes. The middle aged man interrupted Bastion's thoughts.

"Call me...Baram," said the man weakly the man.

Baram wormed to the left side of Bastion and in a low voice said, "Don't worry, kid."

An object was placed into Bastion left pocket. Baram tried to wormed back but stopped midway. He laid there silently though barely breathing. Time elasped for some time before a loud commotion was heard down the hall and getting louder. Bastion focused his eyes towards the chamber. The two guards from before appeared with a third person.

"Biggs and Wedge, you two are useless! Didn't you even searched him when you brought him in?"

"Um...no sir. We were told to just through him in jail," replied one of the guards.

The other guard answered, "that's what we were told to do sir."

The other man seemed to outrank the other two and seemed to be very furious. The three approached the jail cell where Bastion and Baram were kept.

"Sigh, so which on is it?" said the unknown man impatiently.

"The one on the floor sir," replied one of the guards.

"Well then go retrieve him you idiots!" yelled the unknown man.

One of the guards spoke to the other guard and said, "Wedge, you got the right side."

"Yes sir," responded the Wedge.

Biggs and Wedge both entered into the cell and picked up the unconscious Baram and dragged him out. Wedge locked the cell and the three left with Baram. Bastion just looked on as Baram was taken out. Thinking nothing of it, Bastion wondered what was the object Baram had placed in his left pocket? What could it be and were the guards possibly interested in it? Bastion thought that Baram was nothing more than a common thief and didn't want anything to do with him. After a long while, Biggs and Wedge returned with bloodied Baram.

"You think it would be alright to take him back to the jail cell?" asked Wedge.

"Who cares," replied Biggs sounding annoyed of Wedge.

The two opened the cell and threw Baram in again ontop of the fodder covered floor. The two laughed mockingly at Baram and then proceeded to leave. Bastion sighed and titled his head upwards. He noticed that the room got suddenly dark. He looked up towards the window and saw that something was preventing the light from coming in. Suddenly the object disappeared to let the light shine in again. A short moments later a popping noise was heard and then something came through the brick wall. Bastion was now fully alert to what just happened made out the object to be a some sort of pointed object. The pointed object made a metal clank noise and suddenly the wall came tumbling down. It was just then that it occured to Bastion that it was not just a pointed object but an un-deployed prong that was suppose to go through a wall, then the prongs would deploy and were used to pull down a wall towards the outside from the outside. Three gas-masked people wielding firearms stepped through the debris. Bastion noticed that they all wore similar styled clothing as Baram.

One of them spoke, "shoot, I hope we weren't too late."

Another one said, "grab him and let's make our way out."

One of them rushed in and checked Baram's vital signs.

"Clyde's dead." said the one who came in.

The first one who spoke then asked " what about the kid?"

"Just take him in case Clyde gave him something important," said other one standing at the entrance way.

The one that spoke first came in, reached into his backpack and produced a circular saw.

The man then instructed, "Don't move or else I might saw your arms off. Got it?"

Bastion, thoroughly confused, nodded. The iron shackles were sawed off yet Bastion just sat there dumbfounded. The militant people grabbed him to his feet and made there way out of the jail cell. As the group made their escape from the compound with a dead Clyde and a dazed Bastion, the sirens were sounded.