I sent my other version of this to the incubator room and I sat there with it and we worked out our differences, and then I killed it because I hated it. So I made this version, which I feel is much better. Anyways enjoy.

Also thanks to waitwhathuh for pointing out that the character transitions were difficult to notice, you made me realize i hated the way i had wrote it so, this ones for you mate! XD

Warnings- Girl x Girl, drug use, alcohol, swearing, etc. etc. Also some character may be OOC to some extent; I'm trying to work it so there still them, just yah know… pirates.

As always reviews = love, cookies, and puppies vomiting rainbows onto flowers with glitter. GAG, VOMIT, STAB SELF IN FACE

The hazy smoke hung heavily in the dimly lit tavern, the windows, caked with grime, barley let in sufficient amounts of light to even illuminate the inside of the small building. Several gas lamps mounted on the walls burned dimly only serving to complete the seedy feel of the building. The dark wood floor and low rafters only added to the oppressive feel. The patrons of the tavern were no less shady looking, consisting mostly of men bearing large scars, tattoos, and weaponry on their person. Knives, cutlasses, pistols and the like all poking out of their various holsters and scabbards. A bartender, face pale and weathered with age, quietly wiped a grimy rag across the wooden surface of the bar. Occasionally he would move off to fetch another drink for a patron who had mumbled out a request for more, but for the most part nothing moved in the smoky haze.

The entire feel of the tavern was one of exhaustion and depression, for at this time of day the tavern sported only those whose wish was to drown their worries in the demon drink. Several took drags on pipes of various contents, exhaling the thick smoke into the air of the darkened room. The small amount of murmuring that prevented the entire room from being blanketed in silence was silenced instantly when the door to the tavern was opened. Light spilled into the room illuminating the tired and defeated faces of the patrons inside as they all glanced toward the source of light interrupting the heavy atmosphere enveloping the room.

A tall, dark skinned man stood in the door way, eyes searching the darkness as though looking for something he was only half interested in finding. With a sigh he walked into the tavern closing the door behind him, snuffing out the light and returning the tavern to its silence and its smoke. The man strode up to the bartender, who was looking up from his counter, and leaned on the bar with an annoyed expression plastered on his face.

The bar tender glanced up at him, taking stock of this newcomer to his domain. "What'll it be?" he voiced in a gruffly to the unknown man leaning on his bar.

"Nothing, but I am looking for someone who came in here." The dark skinned man replied smoothly.

The old man looked the stranger up and down, inspecting him. He dressed no differently than the rest of the dregs who occupied the seats surrounding them. His face was that of a young man, not much older than a boy really. His hair hung in loose dreadlocks and his face was free of scars or pock marks. His clothing wasn't much different from what people who resided here usually wore either. Loose canvas shirt loosely buttoned, threads splaying in areas that had seen too much movement, baggy trousers, faded and black, and leather boots, scratched and worn with age. With a scratched scabbard holding a cutlass, and a flintlock held in his leather belt, the dark skinned stranger certainly looked as though he would fit in, in a place such as this, but as the old bartended looked in his eyes he could see that they contained the spark of life that so many of these sad, broken men did not.

"Figures, well then if you're not drinking who is it yah want?" The bartender replied a frown creasing his withered features.

"I'm looking for a woman. She came in here a while ago, tall, tan skin, red bandana. Ring any bells?" He asked, giving the old bartender a hard look.

A crooked smile worked its way onto the old man's features as he said "Yeah that one, yeah she's still here. Somewhere in the back I think, she stormed in ordered two bottles of the hard stuff and hasn't made a noise since. I think you'll find her table in the back somewhere. She yah wife or something?" He asked smile still planted firmly on his face.

The stranger gave him a pained look, "Not on your life." This caused the old man to let out a hearty chuckle, revealing his black and crooked teeth, before nodding his head in understanding.

"Well she already paid, so you're free to drag her back to wherever she came from." The old man grunted, smile never leaving his face even as he turned his attention back to the grimy rag and counter.

With a simple nod of thanks toward the bartender, the young man strode to the back of the tavern. Here the smoke was not as thick, but the light was even worse; plunging the entire area into semi blackness. There was only enough light to see the area directly in front for a few feet and not much more than that. Glancing about in the dark, the man noticed a thin form slumped over a table, one arm loosely gripping a bottle, the other hanging limply at the figures side. With dark grumble the stranger walked over to the unconscious figure.

Stopping at the side of the sleeping figure, the stranger took a closer look to make certain of who it was. A red bandana held the woman's long brown hair back from her eyes, which were closed in a drink induced slumber. Her face would have been smooth had it not been for the grime encrusting her face along with a steady trickle of drool running from the corner of her slightly open mouth. Crinkling his nose in distaste the dark skinned stranger looked her over, her entire being smelled of the booze she had been indulging in. Everything on her smelled of it, from her leather vest over the canvas shirt, to the baggy white pants still damp from spilled alcohol, even her boots had small droplets of the demon drink clinging to them.

With a frown, the man took the woman's shoulder and gave her a quick shake, nothing. His frown deepening, he took a hold of both of her shoulders and shook her violently while hissing "Captain Vega, wake up!" The captain remained dead to the world however and the young man was getting fed up with this ridiculous diversion, "Tori wake up damn it!"

However, Captain Tori Vega was not willing to wake up, why she would want to when the dreamless sleep that the drink had provided was so much more comforting than the harsh reality of the world. However the shaking would not stop, and someone was calling her name, so with a weary grumble she cracked open one eye to look at whoever had so rudely interrupted her wonderful sleep.

"Uhg, what the hell do you want Andre?" She grumbled unhappily from her spot face down on the old wooden table.

She looked up at him from her odd angle at the table and she could easily see that he was angry with her despite the near total darkness. 'Ohh boy here we go' she thought glumly 'I'm going to get lectured.'

"I'm not going to waste my breath yelling at you, I know it won't make any difference to you." He grunted as though he had simply read her mind. frown ever present on his features. "Either way, Robbie sent me to tell you that the repairs to the ship are complete so we can set sail as soon as the hanger gives us clearance."

"Well that's good, guess I got to get up now huh." Tori said a sheepish grin on her face, which was still firmly planted on the table; it wasn't even a question. She knew that regardless of how she felt she was going to be taken back to the ship one way or another.

"Good guess." Andre said a smile tugging at his lips.

Despite the fact that Tori knew Andre hated her when she drank, he was still loyal and a good friend when it came down to it, and he hadn't left her out in the cold yet, though It was probably best not to push her luck. Who knows, maybe one day she would wake up in a gutter with her ship and crew gone, having finally given up on her entirely, but best not to dwell on such thoughts. With a groan and the cracking of joints stiff from being stationary for such a long time, the brunette stood up from the table and stretched. This caused the rest of her joints to pop back into place with satisfying clicks.

"All right, let's go." With that they both headed for the door, receiving only a curt nod from the barkeep as they exited his establishment.

The midday sun smashed into Tori's eyes, causing her to wince in pain from the prolonged darkness she had been sitting in for so long. She could tell that Andre had noticed and was most likely smiling at her pain; after all, in his eyes it was rightly earned. With a grumble the captain covered her eyes and continued to walk down the street. The entire area was bustling with activity as the rush of midday came to the streets of the city. What city it was Tori could barely recall, she was too busy trying not continuously wincing from the bright sunlight streaming down onto the city.

"Do you even remember where we are?" Andre voiced to her right.

"No, so mind helping me out."

With a sigh, Andre shook his head, "Bastion, remember? Flying city, pride of the empire, docking yard for her majesty's royal air force, this ringing any bells."

Tori suddenly understood why Andre had been rather eager to leave as soon as the ship had been repaired and refueled. In the past they had had… disagreements with the sailors of the royal air force, and neither was eager to participate in anymore such engagements. As such they quickened their pace slightly, while still attempting to enjoy a nice day. For indeed it was a very pleasant day, the sun shone without a cloud in the surrounding sky to obscure it, while a cool breeze blew through the massive flying city.

The city itself was a marvel of modern technology; thousands of steam generators powered the hundreds of massive turbines that kept the city afloat and mobile. That combined with the fact that the city contained not only the docking yards for the royal air force, but the naval college as well.

'Not a good idea to hang around here for too long' Tori thought with a little shiver of dread.

It did not help that she had left the ship already more than a little tipsy, and had completely passed out after the first couple of swigs of the liquor. After that, well she had been so rudely awoken by her rather angry first mate. All in all it could have been worse, she could have woken up in a cell, and Captain Vega was more than content to simply enjoy the day. The sound of merchants selling their wares, and the yells of street children as they ran about filled the air with a sense of life. The smell of fresh food and baking goods, invaded the senses setting them alight with the simple pleasure of their pleasant aroma.

"Yah, know Andre, I got a good feeling about today." Tori said with a smile at the sky, as they passed near the College.

"VEGA!" a voice behind her cried out.

Spinning around Captain Tori Vega stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening in shock. "Andre, run!" She shouted.

"What?"

Tori pushed past Andre and began to sprint through the market district at a dead sprint, "Run you idiot!" She shouted behind her as she pushed through the crowd. As she ran, Tori cursed her luck 'Why, why, why did he show up! This is really bad, I need to get out of here now!' she though grimly as she ran down the bustling streets. Things would not turn out well, this, Tori knew all too well.

The dark walls of the cell were cold and cruel, letting no light seep into the room to warm it. The only illumination coming from a wall mounted torch, burning dully in the small cell. The unnatural shadows it caused flickered about on the walls like demons dancing just within the edges of vision. The sound of shifting cloth against stone was the only sound that was audible in the dead silence of the room.

On the floor lay a young girl, her hair a shock of scarlet. Her skin pale from lack of sunlight, so as to be almost translucent, save for the small cuts and bruises that littered her body. A testament to the abuse she had suffered in the dark stone halls of the prison in which she was trapped. The shadows of long dried tears stained her dirt encrusted skin, her eyes open yet not seeing. She shifted once more as though to attain some small comfort from the unforgiving stone.

Her brown eye's slowly shifted about in her head, taking in the sights of the cell door as it lay in the wall; a vicious sentinel to her pain. Her eye's listed to the side to focus once more on the torch, for it was the only object in the cell that she could attest to comfort. She lay there on the stones simply watching the demon's dance in the shadows and wishing she could simply disappear into the shadows to join them. Join them in there dark revelry, and be free to simply disappear before the light.

However the fantasy was soon interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, a small smile creasing the girls face. She knew what the footsteps meant, she had learned very quickly what they meant, pain. She was strong however, no matter how much they beat her, no matter how much they cut her, and she would not break. That would give them satisfaction and she refused to give them any such thing. The soft jingle of keys signaled the opening of the door; she closed her eyes to block out the shafts of light that flooded her shadowed cell. The dancing shadows retreating to the far corner as the light invaded everything. So she lay there, and waited for the pain and misery to overtake her, but it never came. Instead a voice pierced the former silence, shattering it.

"This is the one?"

The voice was smooth and somewhat comforting, yet it held a sense of authority to it that almost demanded attention. The girl opened her eyes a fraction at the sound, confusion at the lack of violence. Instead she was greeted by the shadowy figure of a tall man who stood before her. A soft smile crept on to the man's face as he looked down at her.

"Yes sir." A voice from behind spoke, however from her position on the floor the young girl could not see who it was who had spoken.

The man nodded and stepped into the cell, blocking out the light and returning the cell to the dark. However she could see his face and he was smiling, but it wasn't the vicious smile her captors wore when they beat and broke her body. This smile was genuine and soft, a warm comfort after so long in the dark, so very alone. "Good." He said softly, extending his hand to her.

"Hello little cat, my name is Beck. Would you like to leave this place?" He asked, the warm smile never once leaving his face.

Thousands of thoughts ran through her head, and for the first time since she had entered the cell, her eyes held the spark of life in them. However there was only one answer to a question such as this, and it was the only choice she had; the smile on her face grew slightly at this thought.

"Yes." She said in a voice so soft and strained from disuse that it came out a nothing more than a whisper. She looked at his gloved hand briefly before, taking it. This was her only choice, and she would rather die than let it pass by, so she went, went with this strange man into the light. She would be damned if she gave them satisfaction, for they would never break her.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds of window leading into an immaculate office. The carpets were of a deep crimson, with an ornate hardwood desk as the center piece of the room. The desk itself was a marvel, for its wood had been carved in such intricate, swirling patterns it was impossible to tell where one loop began and another ended. Atop the desk sat only a few objects, a pen and inkwell sat off to the right side, perfectly spaced. In the very center of the desk lay a single piece of parchment, centered exactly in the center of the desk. A well-worn, high backed brown leather chair was positioned at the desk, lending the room and almost imperial feel. The walls, a light cream color, were spartanic save for a coat of arms directly behind the desk, consisting of a white hawk aimed upwards with two blue swords crossing behind it over a shield with a white and blue lining around it.

The room was immaculately clean, almost to the point where it seemed as though not a single person had ever set foot in the room, and no dust had ever settled on any object in the room. The only entrance to the room was a large hardwood door, large and imposing, as if to dare any to trespass against it. All was peaceful in the room, serene some would say, that was until the door to the room burst open.

A young woman with a shocking red hair stumbled into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. Her face was pale and smooth, almost sculpture like. Her crimson hair was ruffled and obscured her eyes as she staggered about the room with a lop-sided grin on her face. She wore a uniform set of clothes, a deep black frock coat and white trousers, complete with brown leather jack boots. On the shoulders of her frock coat were epaulets with a sigil of a sword with two golden bands running horizontally across it.

She staggered forward a few more feet from the door, colliding with the desk and collapsing against it sending the parchment fluttering across the carpeted floor and causing the inkwell to fall on its side. The girl began to giggle slightly as she lay there sprawled across the desk. She began to laugh as she fell from the desk to the floor in a crumpled heap, where she laid motionless save for the movement of her chest as she continued her fit of laughter. Her entire body went limp with a sudden shake, letting a metal syringe fall from her grasp where it lay on the floor, gleaming dully in the warm light. The woman giggles slowly eased, and her breathing lightened, eyes slowly sliding shut. With a peaceful look on her features, she lay asleep under the warm rays of the midmorning sun.

"Cat."

A voice broke through her dream filled slumber, disturbing the peace she was so very much enjoying.

"Time to wake up little kitten"

"But I don't want to" she mumbled.

"Cat, wake up now."

This wasn't the voice that she had heard before; this one had authority behind it, but was at the same time smooth and reassuring. She knew this voice well, which was why she wearily opened her eyes and glanced up. A small, almost apologetic smile crossed her lips.

"Sorry about the mess Admiral Oliver." She mumbled turning her gaze back down toward the carpet on which she lay.

The Admiral glared down, hazel eyes shifting with emotions, with a frown on his face for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing some of the dark brown hair behind his ears as he rubbed his face tiredly. Cat refused to look him in the eye; if she did she would see the look of disappointment and sadness that haunted his gaze every time he saw her like this. She knew he blamed himself for letting this happen to her, but she didn't blame him. She had gone in search of a way to forget, and she had found it, but now she was slowly killing herself with it.

"Cat, do you need some time?" Beck asked, the sadness in his voice making her flinch.

She hated thinking that she was the cause of this sadness, not when he should be happy and content. He had everything a man could desire, he was powerful, in charge of the entire royal air force, wealthy, noble, and he was to be married to the Queen herself. Yet here he was worrying over her, it almost made her smile at how ridiculous it sounded. He had saved her from that horrible darkness and this was how she repaid him… but now was not the time to think about this.

With a groan she rose up from her spot on the floor and dusted of her ruffled uniform. Glancing back at Beck she placed a happy smile on her face before cheerfully saying, "Don't we have somewhere to be?"

She could tell he was in no way fooled by her happy persona, but he chose to ignore it. For what reason she was not sure but she chose not to press the matter. With another small sigh Beck nodded in agreement before opening the door for her and gesturing for her to exit. However before she could exit she was blocked by the scabbard of a cutlass. Glancing up at the Admiral her face contorted into a masque of confusion.

"If my 'bodyguard' keeps forgetting her weapon, what will happen if I happen to get attacked?" He said, a smile pulling at his lips as he emphasized bodyguard as though he was about to laugh at any moment.

A sheepish smile ran onto Cat's face as she took the sword and fastened it to her waist. "Sorry."

He rolled his eyes in response and walked out the door, as Cat followed closely behind him. "It's fine, but at least attempt and remember the important things next time."

They quickly left the room and walked through the silent halls of the empty building. The halls of the air yard were normally bustling with people, but with a training day called most were off at their respective posts. As such the wooden floors echoed as they strode through the white walled halls. They quickly found their way to the grand entrance hall, which was a sight to behold empty or not. Grand windows of glass flooded the room with light, reaching almost to the ceiling. Tall pillars adorned the walls supporting the massive rafters and flying buttresses. Leading up to the second floor of the building were a set of dark wooden staircases set on either side of the room.

A tall statue made of pure brass stood in the center of the room; it was a casting of the alleged founder the royal navy, Sir Edward Peirce. In all honesty Cat though he was a rather intimidating man, even if he was a simple statue. With a hawk like nose and beady eyes he looked more like a bird of prey than a sailor. That combined with his slicked back hair made him look as though he were hunting all those who entered these halls under his eternal gaze.

Cat couldn't help but let a small shiver pass through her as she passed underneath his watchful eyes. However the chill was soon replaced by soft warmth as they left the building through the grand double doorway. The smile the red head wore became a one of genuine delight as the cool breeze blew through her hair. She would have loved to have just stood there all day and enjoy the day, but Beck had continued walking and she had to race to catch up to him.

"Umm, where are we going again?" Cat voiced, curiosity overtaking her in a flash.

"I have a lecture to give at the college; however I had to come find you first." Beck grunted without missing a beat, and continued to walk at his brisk pace. Cat nodded her head in understanding; she had known about the lecture but had simply moved the information to the back of her mind.

She turned her attention to the sky as they walked, content with watching the clouds slowly clump together to form shapes that the mind was free to interpret. However her daydreaming was cut short when she bumped straight into the back of Beck's coat, seeing as he had stopped dead in his tracks. She was about to ask why they had stopped when she glanced at his face and saw it twisted in anger. Following his gaze, the red head quickly spotted what it was the Admiral was watching. It was a tall, slim woman with a pretty face, wearing a red bandana and walking with a dark skinned man. They were walking a good hundred feet ahead of them, and seemed to be doing nothing wrong as far as she could see. She could also see nothing out of the ordinary with them save for the weapons at their sides. She was about to ask what the problem was when Beck's voice boomed out, loud and angry.

"VEGA!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The women turned to look at them, and even with the distance that separated them, Cat could see the look of shock spread across the woman's face. With a shout she took off running her companion quickly rushing after her. She turned back to the Admiral question on her lips but remained silent when she saw the Admiral's face. Calm, cool Admiral Beck Oliver was shaking with anger.

"You can't run Vega, not anymore." She heard him hiss under his breath. Just who was that woman?

Lurv you guys, review and comment and what not, also helpful criticism is always enjoyed.