Author: Bastille Kain
Title: God Shuffled His Feet
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters of any show or other medium; comics, movies, and books that are unfortunate enough to be used here all belong to other people. Again I own nothing and make no profit from these writings.
Spoilers: Anything and everything.
Summary: Buffy/Dark Matter Crossover. It is long and complex. The short of it is Buffy wakes up aboard the Raza as a member of its crew. Just like everyone else she has no memories of her life before waking up.
Pairings:
Rating: MA-18. Just to play it safe. Eventually there is going to be adult themed subject matter, gratuitous violence and explicit sexual scenes not to mention strong language.
Feedback: Is always appreciated.
Archive: If you like it that much, sure. Just be sure to let me know where it's going, and give me the credit, good or bad, for my work.
Musical Note: I like to use song titles or lyrics for story names and chapter titles. God Shuffled His Feet: The Crash Test Dummies. Who Are You: The Who. Mad World: Tears For Fear (Covered by Gary Jules)
Author Note: Not a big fan of author notes.
Enjoy the Story,
Kain
God Shuffled His Feet
Chapter One: Who Are You
She came to with a start, darkness overwhelmed her… Paralyzing her from somewhere deep down as she sucked in as much oxygen as her lungs could hold. Green eyes snapped open with an animalized frenzy burning within them; a group of strangers were huddled together on the other side of a plexi-steel door. They stared at her with range of emotions from concerned to anxious to something that bordered on curious hostility.
With a hard shove the door opened and she fell forward, dropping to her hands and knees. One of the men moved forward, maybe to help. Maybe for some other reason… Maybe? Dozens of ways to stop him, stop them all flashed through her head.
He stepped back quickly enough as she heaved, emptying the contents of her stomach on the floor. Not the method she would have preferred given a choice but apparently effective all the same.
"The hell…?" One of the men growled, whether in anger or simple annoyance she couldn't tell.
"Sick," she mumbled almost too softly to be heard. "Phobic…"
"You remember who you are?" The older, dark haired woman asked, a hint of cautious relief tinting her voice.
Images flashed through her mind. Scattered and disjointed; hundreds of faces, random with no context. "No," she murmured as a tall black man with a shaved head offered her his hand. She took it gratefully and he helped her to her feet. "Nothing."
"Another one," The angry man grumbled. "Makes eight of us."
/ / /
Several minutes later the small group was in one of the ship's cargo hold. This one held a series of lockers that appeared to housing some of the crew's personal effects. "No one?" She asked taking in the group. They were an odd assortment including two teenagers. The boy had a bandage around his abdomen from what had probably been a serious gunshot wound and the girl had green streaks dyed in her black hair. It was eclectic to say the least and struck a chord, reminding her of something, someone… It was there and gone the moment she reached for it, like a wisp of smoke.
"We all woke up the same as you," a black haired man said. He was more pretty than handsome and tall, but her perspective might be a little skewed on the subject. What she wouldn't give for a pair of boots; preferably platform and stylish, something that would bring out the green tint in her eyes. Make them pop. He was a talker, probably wouldn't be much good in a fight. "With no memories…"
"I have some," she said and learnt something else about herself. She so did not like being the center of attention. "Memory might be too strong of a word. Disjointed vid images without sound, out of sequence and no sort of context…"
A loud bang erupted as the angry man slammed a steel pipe into a metal lock with a simmering, "That's just peachy." He hit the lock repeatedly.
She flinched with every hit, her hands covering her ears as she slid off the crate and stumbled out the door and into the hall.
"Is she okay?" The sandy hair boy asked, concern etching his voice.
"Yeah," The black man answered. He looked to the other adults and said, "She might have hyper acute senses."
The other woman nodded as a thought popped into her head. "Which would explain her reaction coming out of stasis. Until she's had a chance to acclimate to the environment."
"I'll go track her down," the black man said.
"For right now we should probably name ourselves by the order we woke up," The black hair man suggested. "One, Two," he said pointing to himself then the woman then to the angry man, "Three, Four," as he gestured toward the Asian man.
"Five," the girl said before looking toward the equally young boy as she said, "and that would make you Seven."
"So that means I'm Six," Six said.
"And the blonde is Eight," Two said
"Got it," Six said with a nod.
"Here," Two said holding out a pair of comms.
"Do you want some company?" Seven asked.
Six looked the boy up and down as he slipped the small comm into his ear. "Until we get the ship secured you probably shouldn't be doing a lot of wondering around," he told the boy before exited the room and heading in the same direction the blonde went, carrying a heavy coat and a pair of boots.
"Ah-ha," Three crowed triumphantly as he tossed the steel pole aside. He flipped the lid open as the others gathered around.
"What are we hauling?" One questioned. "Seeds? Medicine?"
Three flipped back the plastic sheet and with an eerily reverent quality he said, "Better," as he removed a large rifle from the crate.
"Cool," Five said as she darted in and grabbed a pistol.
Quick as she was Two was right behind her taking the weapon from the girl with a firm, "No." She turned towards the three men. "We need to search and secure this ship, find anything of value. One and Four, you two are together. Three, why don't you corral Six and Eight. Make sure you bring enough toys for everyone. Five, Seven… You two are with me."
/ / /
Six caught up to Eight quick enough. She was inside another cargo hold a hundred meters further down the hall. It wasn't as large but most of the containers appeared to be specialized. She placed her palm on an electric pad and the container opened revealing nothing but footwear, hundreds of pairs of shoes in every possible variety. The girl's face brightened considerably as she whispered, "Oh." She reached inside and removed a pair of platform sandals more suited to one of the core worlds then the deck of a deep space vessel. They were ivory white and encrusted with a tasteful assortment of crystalline gemstones. He was about to comment on how inappropriate they would be aboard ship when she slipped them back into their proper place with a whispered promise of, "Later," before she removed a sturdier pair of black combat boots. She pressed the pad again and the container began closing as Eight moved onto the next container and repeating the process. It began to open just as slowly as the first one and she said, "Eh, what's up Doc?" with an odd accent.
"We decided to name ourselves by the order we woke up," Six informed her.
The second container finished opening revealing a large selection of pants, shirts, blouses and undergarments. She tilted her head as she extracted a pair of deep violet leather pants, a scarlet microfiber top that wasn't much different from the top she was currently wearing aside from the color, a deep ocean blue button-down blouse and a worn black leather long coat. "Pretty Boy's idea?" Not so much a question, but rather a statement just awaiting confirmation. She repeated the process with a third crate and Six had to wonder how much more stuff Eight had.
"How could you…?"
"Be careful with him," she warned. Her face brightened and she breathed out an awed, "Pretty," before recovering. Held within the container was a vast array of bladed weapons, maybe enough to supply a small army.
"Why shouldn't I trust him?" He asked instead of giving voice to the other questions running through his head at the moment.
"He's an idealist," she told him as she began stripping out of her clothes. He felt his face flush as his eyes soaked in her flawless skin. "He finds something to believe in and he believes," she said as she shimmied into her leather pants. "He'll get himself killed, or more likely someone else." She slipped the shirt on. "Two, she's hard and closed off… Shoves all her hurts deep down and buries them. She'll kill you where you stand but she needs a reason, a good one." She removed several harness from her weapons and secured them without giving any thought to their placement. "Five and Seven," She began sheathing knives, daggers, throwing stars, needles and a pair of small well balanced hatchets in her holsters. "They'll lift your wallet and pocket the cash before you're three steps in the rearview. Good kids though." She slipped her blouse on but let it hang loose. "Four," she gave a bit of a shrug as she settled into the long coat, "he's had training, lots of it. You can see it in the way he moves. He's dangerous but you already knew that."
Three strolled through the open doorway as if he had every right to be there. A powerful looking long rifle was slung over his right shoulder while a pistol was holstered on each hip. A number of holstered pistols were slung over his other shoulder and a smaller shotgun style rifle and a small caliber automatic rifle were slung on his back. He smirk at Eight and said, "I would've brought you something short stuff but Two said the little ones couldn't play with the big boy toys," as he passed several pistols and the shotgun over to Six.
Eight smiled at the humor as she went over to the final container and opened it as she had all the others. Three let out a soft whistle as the container opened and he stepped forward to take closer gander at the merchandise contained within. "Now those look expensive," Three said taking in what had to be hundreds of leather bound books. He handed her a pair of pistols and the automatic rifle. In one of the other sections were thousands of VidDisk while the center section contain several hundred memory cards of various ages some of which had to be hundreds of years old. Possibly even older. "Someone's private collection, no doubt?" There was more than a hint of lurid innuendo in his comment.
"If someone's a good boy," Eight returned the playful banter. She belted on the holsters, checked to make sure the draw was smooth or if she was going to have to modify them. The pistols came out easily enough but they could definitely use some adjustments. Lifting the rifle she thumbed through the settings until it was set for single shot. "You two ready?" She asked.
"Just waiting on you princess," Three told her. Eight cocked an eyebrow. "Alright then," he said heading for the door.
/ / /
"All I'm saying is we don't know how long we're going to be stuck here," Three said as the trio marched along, their rifles held casually with the barrels aimed at the floor. Another bulk-head door opened at their presence. "Kind of makes sense for us to choose a leader. Somebody to make key decisions for the group."
There was a bit of idle amusement in Six's tone as he said, "Let me guess… Someone like you?"
Three didn't hear it, or chose to ignore it, too busy running his election campaign. "Naw… Not me, necessarily. But yeah, someone to represent everyone's best interest. Someone with final say in case of disputes. I don't know? It could be me," Three went on persistently. "Is that what you're suggesting?"
"No," Six hedged.
"If that was the case, just between us… I could use a good second in command."
"I'm voting for Five," Eight chimed in unable to hide the playful smirk that danced in her eyes as Three shot her mildly menacing glare she pretended not to see.
Six came up to another door; this one remained close as they approached. Six hit the pad and the door swung upward. Three followed Six as he stepped forward. Eight hung back devoting the majority of her attention to covering the corridor. The lights flickered for a second before coming on to reveal the hold of a small transport shuttle and the cockpit beyond. Six's face lit up, almost to the point of glowing. "Now this is more like it," he said securing his rifle in the corner by the pilot's seat. "I wonder if I know how to fly this?"
"Knock yourself out," Three said with a touch of amusement coloring his voice. He exited the shuttle and said, "This way," with a gesture of his long rifle.
Eight shrugged, glance at the shuttle Six was in. "Why don't we split up, be able to cover more ground that way?"
"Suit Yourself."
"If you run into trouble…"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be sure to give a shout," he said with a backwards wave in her direction as he sauntered down the corridor away from her.
Eight headed back to the last junction and picked an unsearched corridor at random. She kept her focus on the task at hand putting aside the questions nagging at her mind until the ship had been secured. For the next several minutes she picked corridors seemingly at random entering each and every room making sure they were empty before exiting and securing the room to ensure no one could double back around on her.
She was only a few minutes into her search when Three called out to her and Six that he had found something. A few seconds later she heard a cry for help and then a crash and a grunt of pain. Eight raced forward concerned that Three, for all of his bluster, had run into something he couldn't handle.
/ / /
Six barely managed to block the pipe with a piece of grating but that was quickly knocked from his hands by the attack. The blonde android easily hauled him to his feet with her left hand, her right hand cocked back to strike but a tiny fist wrapped around her forearm and Eight pulled her around. The Android had a good three to four inches on Eight, but the tiny blonde moved in delivering a hard punch to the Android's chest that drove the machine back nearly two feet. Six blinked, momentarily thrown off by the result. He recovered quickly and wrapped his arms around the Android's chest in a solid bear-hug that the Android shrugged off with ease and her follow up elbow to his face dropped him to a knee. A solid punch from Eight to the side of her head caused the Android to take a step away from him. She retaliated quickly launching a series of punches and kicks at Eight which the tiny blonde either deftly deflected or absorbed with no apparent effect.
One raced in from one of the side passages slamming a heavy pipe wrench into the side of the Android's head. The Android went with the blow as her right hand shoved One the length of the hold. He crashed into the far wall with a bone jarring impact.
Four came at her, his sword whistling as it cut the air. Fast as he was the Android was faster easily evading his attacks until he was over extended and she moved in, quickly disarming him. She reached for his throat but Eight caught the Android's wrist with her right hand and drove her left fist into the small of the Android's back. She followed it up with two more punches that were equally ineffective. The Android spun pulling Eight around and launching her toward the second floor catwalk.
Eight caught the steel railing, pulled herself around and landed in a crouch on the rail. She gathered herself, preparing to launch another attack but the machine's eyes went blank and the Android shut down. Below her the men took a moment to gather themselves.
/ / /
Two glanced at Five and Seven, the two youngest members of their crew, as she ran a scan on the Android. They were sitting on one of the tables in the infirmary talking quietly with each other. Six was standing nearby, he had seemed to take to the youngsters and they to him. Though once Seven learned Four had swords and could fight like some sort of ninja kung-fu warrior he had made no secret about wanting to ask Four to teach him how to fight.
Eight was there as well, casually lounging against the far wall watching the Android. Well the blonde was watching everything, her eyes constantly moving, never resting on one place for any length of time. According to the others Eight had held her own against the Android. It shouldn't have been possible and yet she had four witnesses, well three witnesses since Three had spent most of the fight unconscious. Eight claimed it was their interference that kept her from winning.
The tiny blonde's gaze shifted to the door and two seconds later it swung up allowing One, Three and Four to enter the infirmary. "Guys we found food. Who wants?" Three asked as he entered. Six held up a hand and caught the protein pack. One followed close behind an ice pack pressed to his jaw. Four entered last carrying a steel box. "Kid," he says tossing a pair to Five who took one and handed the other to Seven. He didn't even look in Eight's direction as he settled his rifle on a second bed. One tossed Eight a protein pack which earned him a glare from Three that he ignored.
Six tore open his pack as Four placed the box on a small work station. Six bit off a chunk and made a gagging sort of sound with an expression that closely matched it. "Are you sure?"
"Close enough," Three answered.
"I've had worse," Seven said as he swallowed the small piece he'd taken. Six glanced at him and Seven shrugged in a, you know what I mean, sort of way.
Three ignored the boy as he asked, "What's up with the robot?"
Two glanced at him. "Technically she's an Android. Her bio-synthetic physiology is incredibly similar to our ship's outer hull," she explained to the group.
"Fascinating," Three replied. Sarcasm dripped from his words.
"She's an extremely efficient entity," Two continued as she leaned over the bed. "Corrector nannites have almost fully restored her broken parts." Which was another concern. If Eight could punch the Android hard enough to cause damage Two didn't want to think about what she would be capable of doing to a human body without much effort.
Three offered up an indifferent shrug as he said, "Well that's not a problem. We just stick her in the airlock and space her."
"That won't be necessary," Two said as Three turned toward his rifle. He turned back, a look of stunned wonder etched on his face as Two continued speaking. "I've already deleted all of her security directives and re-established her base program. She's no longer a threat to us and she could prove useful."
"Whoa," One jumped in. "We're not waking that thing up!"
Two turned, a bit of anger lacing her stance. Her gaze took in the group as she said, "The diagnostics suggest she possesses some sort of neural link with the ship's mainframe. Once she's back online she'll be able to run a more effective repair command. She'll have us space worthy in no time."
"Will she know who we are?" Eight asked stepping closer to the group that she has spent the last hour holding herself back from; ever since her fight with the Android.
Two glanced at the blonde took in her green eyes staring down at the Android. There was concern within them, it was masked over but it was there. "She might," Two said. Her voice was softer, a bit of compassion in her tone. "I don't know. Resetting her program may have wiped her data files on us, but she'll be able to access the ships logs far quicker than any of us."
Eight lifted her head and took in the group. For a moment anybody looking at her could see a frightened girl that didn't want to know the truth. Then her features hardened; a challenge for anyone to question her. "Do it," she said. "Wake her up."
One drew his sidearm and Four his sword. Six shrugged as he readied his own weapon. Three huffed angrily but finally drew his own pistol. Two stepped forward, tilted the Android's head to the side and inserted the boot disk into the port. Within seconds the Android's eyes flooded with simulated life.
"What's your name," One demanded.
"I possess no personal designation," the Android replied.
"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," Six commented dryly.
"Why did you attack us?" One questioned her.
"I have no memories of such an attack," the Android responded quickly.
Two exhaled softly as she said, "The reboot must have wiped her data stores."
"Well ain't that convenient," Three griped.
Without warning the Android sat up. It was fluid and graceful, faster than anyone could react to for nearly a half a second when they flinched back. Five slid off the table moving closer to the Android while Seven made sure Six was between him and the Android. Only Eight didn't react to the Android. Two moved to the foot of the bed putting herself in the Android's direct line of sight. "I want you to initiate a neural link with the ship's computer. Can you do that?"
"Of course," the Android replied with no emotion or inflection.
"Now I want you to access any and all data related to the passengers on board this ship?"
The Android closed her eyes for a second, maybe two before reopening them. "No such data exist," the Android informed them.
"Any information in the ship's records about its crew? Or its mission?" One demanded.
Once again the Android closed its eyes. "No such data exist," the machine answered after opening her eyes.
"How's that possible?" Six asked.
"It's… It's not," Two fumbled for moment. "This ship's programming is highly sophisticated. There are redundancies in place to guard against data loss. Someone must have deliberately deleted that information."
/ / /
Eight found her room without much difficulty, there were a number of swords mounted on the wall, almost two dozen books on a shelf over the bed and an array of musical instruments secured in individual stands; a violin and cello, a set of drums and a keyboard, an assortment of flutes, and several guitars; from acoustics, a solid body electric along with hallowed body, one that was even set up to be played left handed; along with a pair of bass guitars. Moving the rest of her belongings into the room wouldn't be particularly difficult considering the antigrav sled she had spotted earlier.
Suddenly the engines came online and the ship accelerated rapidly. It wasn't long before the gravity cut out and she drifted up to the ceiling. She quickly flipped herself over several times before the gravity came back on and she dropped to the floor, landing softly on her feet.
/ / /
Five came-to slowly. The world was dark and her head hurt. As she opened her eyes she picked out Two and Six standing on one side of her and Seven on the other side holding onto her hand. Eight was leaning against the wall, as far from the rest of the group as she could get and still be in the same area.
"Hey," Six said gently.
"What, what happened?" she asked concerned that she couldn't remember.
"We lost gravity for a few seconds there," Six explained. "When it came back on we all took a tumble. You hit your head on the way down."
Five frowned, squinting slightly as she tried to remember hitting her head but simply drew a blank. The floating and the falling were there but not hitting her head. "I did?" She asked.
"Yeah," Six said as she started to sit up. He kept a large hand on her back offering her support as she used Seven to pull herself upright. "You okay?" Six asked as a slight groan escapes her.
"Yeah, I think so," Five answered.
"So any idea who attacked us, or why?" One asked as Three followed him into the infirmary. Neither appeared to be particularly happy but it was unclear if it was because of the attack, their general disposition or because they were spending too much quality time alone with each other.
"None," Two answered.
Three crossed the infirmary as he said, "Maybe the robot had something to do with it." He brushed against her back in a not overly subtle passive aggressive gesture.
"I have no intention of harming anyone on this ship," the Android replied in a flat tone; neither defensive nor aggressive. A simple statement of facts.
"Oh yeah, except for the part where you tried to kill us all," Three countered. All trace of passivity vanished from his posture. "Except for the pint size princess over there," he added with a frown. No ordinary human could fight an android and hope to hold their own, let alone win. Whatever Eight was, ordinary wasn't on the list.
"I have no memory of such an attack," the Android answered remaining unflustered.
"So you keep saying –"
"Alright," Six started. "Calm down."
"Are you kidding me now?" Three griped, shooting them all a smoldering glare. "I wake up a couple hours ago, no idea who I am, how the hell I got here. Nearly get killed by the forgetful robot, almost blasted into scrag by some mysterious ship –"
"We're in the middle of nowhere," Eight cut into Three's rant. "Broadcasting a distress beacon. Honest merchants are going to steer clear thinking it's a trap. The undesirables are gonna come in weapons hot looking for an easy score. We're just lucky nobody showed up earlier."
"Actually we are on course to a nearby inhabited world," the Android informed the group.
"We are?" Two murmured softly.
"Before we were attack I initiated a recovery program in order to salvage recently deleted or overwritten data," the Android explained in the same tone of voice.
"You can do that?" One asked.
"The process is time consuming and most of the information is irretrievable, however I have managed to salvage some data," the Android informs the crew.
"What kind of data?" Three asked in what just might be his only non-aggravating tone.
"The ships original destination," the Android answered with an almost smirk like quality to her voice. "We should be arriving in less than twelve hours."
Eight frowned as the Android's explanation jarred something from the recesses of her mind. A process or technique the authorities used to track people. "What about facial recognition? Even DNA profiling?"
"Can you do that?" Five asked.
"Of course," the Android answered. "Though travelling in FTL severely limits my connection to the interlink. Being docked at a Hab-1 Space Station would give this ship its greatest access," she informed the crew. "I could begin a DNA analysis right now if no one has any objection. Once we reach a suitable destination it would be ready for uploading."
Two nodded as she rolled up her sleeve, "Let's get this over with."
/ / /
Eight was restless. She tried to sleep, but an hour of tossing and turning had shown her the futility of her actions. Meditating was equally useless, if for an entirely different reason. Seeing her death at the hands of some hideous monster, being left to drown in a shallow pool of bloody water wasn't an experience she wanted to repeat.
Neither was driving a sword through the heart of the man you loved, and she knew; once upon a time she had loved the beautiful dark haired man with the soul wrenching eyes. Knew it in the ache along her bones, the acid burning in her veins. Knew it in how her heart shattered as she drove her sword home even if she couldn't recall one thing more. Not even the flicker of a name. He had been her angel and still she had plunged her sword through his heart and killed him and it couldn't have been more than five years ago when she would have been about the same age Five is now.
What sort of person did that make her?
Then again, her fight with Andi drove home the fact she wasn't an ordinary girl. May not even be completely human?
Entering the gym she set up the wooden man. She could have pulverized it with a single punch but this was about focus, concentration, re-centering herself. If somebody ever killed her again they were going to have to earn that honor.
/ / /
"We tried communicating with whoever's down there," Eight heard Two say as she approached the shuttle. "But received no response."
"Could be a tech issue," One offered.
"Could be a lot of things," Two replied with her normal pragmatic view. Eight entered the cargo hold of the shuttle and Two shot her a glance. Like the others she was armed; her rifle slung over a shoulder far too delicate for such a weapon, a pair of pistols holstered low on her hips, along with a vast array of throwing knives and other well concealed blades. Two was only mildly surprised to see the other woman there despite the last time they talked, Eight hadn't been all that keen on going planet-side in the shuttle. Unlike Seven, who was itching for any excuse to go on an excursion but the boy was still recovering from a serious gunshot wound. It would still be a few weeks before he was fit for anything but light duty.
Eight flashed Two a whimsical smile. "Decided I needed to get off this boat for a bit. Fresh air just might do me some good. Besides somebody needs to keep this lot from doing something, foolish?"
Two repressed an urge to snort as she said, "And that's you?"
"No," Eight said. "That's Andi's job." Two frowned as she tried to make a connection. "I'm not going to keep calling her the Android. Just because none of us have real names doesn't mean she can't have one and until she chooses one for herself, I'm going with Andi."
"Probably stayed up all night thinking that one up," Three commented dryly as he reached for his sonic rifle.
Eight smiled at him with just a hint of playful cruelty sparkling in her green eyes. In a voice just hinting at sultry seductiveness she said, "The things I did that kept me awake last night," she breathed in deeply as if savoring a slice of nirvanic bliss before finishing, "would have left you in traction."
Three swallowed trying to work moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. He quickly shot a pleading look at Two. "Make her stop," he all but whined.
Two smirked at him. "If you can't stand the heat… You should probably stay out of the oven." She turned back to Eight and said, "Just until she comes up with something she like's better."
Eight shrugged, "It's her name it should be something she likes," she finished as she took the last seat in the back of the shuttle.
Two gave her a slight nod. Turning to leave she said, "Fly safe," as she walked out of the shuttle.
Three, One, and Six shifted in their seats to watch Two walk away earning a green eye glare from Eight as she muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."
They turned back as the outer doors closed forming an airtight seal. Six looked over at the Android and asked, "Does this ship have a name?"
"It's a Phantom class Marauder," the Android told him.
"Marauder," Six repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. A definite note of approval shining through as he said, "Nice."
The shuttle dropped out of its docking berth. Eight felt her stomach lurch with the sudden changes as the shuttled accelerated toward the planet.
Three noticed her complexion, the downcast turn of her lips. "This bucket doesn't come with little bags for you to –"
"Actually," the Android began cutting in. "Located under each seat there are a pair of bags for just such emergencies."
"Whatever," Three glared as he adjusted the settings on his rifle. "I don't want to smell it."
"There is no reason to assume the inhabitants will be hostile," the Android commented idly.
Three sighted along the barrel. "No reason to assume they won't be," he countered.
The shuttle came in low and fast, landing just beyond the nearest ridge, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris. Eight stood, slinging her automatic rifle over her right shoulder as she shoved her semi queasy stomach aside. "Give me two minutes to work my way around the back and find a decent vantage point to cover you guys," she ordered the group as they stood and began readying their own weapons.
"Why the hell would we do that?" Three demanded.
Eight's withering eyes were nearly enough to make him step back but he managed to hold his ground. "There's a reason you shouldn't be in charge," she said just loudly enough for everyone to hear. "What if you're right? Natives ain't so welcoming to armed strangers showing up unannounced on their doorstep. Do you think it's all that smart for us to parade march into a potential ambush?"
One glanced around at the others quickly before asking, "Shouldn't one of us go with you?"
"No offense Pretty Boy," Eight began with a smirk. "But I'd rather not be noticed when I'm being all sneaky," she finished stepping out of the shuttle.
"One of us should –" One started.
"She's right," Four cut him off. "The only one of us capable of matching her is the Android. The rest of us would only slow her down."
"Four's right," Six said. "We all saw her hold her own against the Android."
"I do not recall seeing that," the Android told her companions.
Six turned his attention to the Android explaining, "It happened before we rebooted your system."
"I don't like it," Three told the others. "For all any of us know she could be in there selling us out right now."
/ / /
The factory was old, rundown. The interior was cluttered with disused refuse; an old forklift was partially covered with a heavy burlap blanket near the buildings double wide loading doors. There were stacks of pallets, mostly constructed of wooden planks but a few were made of steel. They were stacked in such a way as to create several narrow, twisting alleys, ideal for setting an ambush and providing cover, which the locals were using quite liberally. While it was simple, overall it was an excellent strategy and Eight found herself approving. All they needed were better quality weapons. Something with a heavier kick then the small arms they were currently deployed with might give someone a rather rude awakening.
They had also managed to jury rig some sort of localized jammer that severely hampered personal comms, effectively cutting her off from the rest of her group. Without some sort of booster nobody was getting a signal out.
Sitting on the roof she waited for the other members of her crew to put in an appearance. She had her right foot tucked under her left buttocks, her left leg bent and her left elbow resting on her knee. She gazed at the back of someone's head along her rifles hard sight through one of the various holes in the roof. Without too much effort she could kill six maybe seven more before the first body hit the floor.
"Remember," One said as the four of them cautiously marched up the center of the factory. Hard eyes seeking out the little nooks and crevices where an enemy might be lying and wait, they never rested on any one spot for too long. "We're just looking for answers. We're not here to cause trouble."
"That's far enough," an older man said as he and about ten others stepped out from the cover they had been sheltering behind.
Eight grimaced and was sorely tempted to shoot the man just on general principle. It was too soon by at least fifteen feet. With their superior weapons the distance favored her team. Even though the locals had the four men surrounded at least half the civilians would be cut down in the first exchange. Holding the rifle steady with one arm she slipped a pistol from its holster and lined up a second target through another hole in the roof. It wouldn't be as accurate as the rifle which was why she was aiming for a larger surface area then the skull. A shot anywhere along the spine would serve just as well as a kill shot.
"Remind me to tell that robot I told you so," Three mumbled to anyone willing to listen.
Eight swallowed her amusement. Trust Three to make the most inappropriate comment at the absolute wrong time.
"Who are you? Why are you here?" The old man demanded.
"Yeah," One drawled out slowly, more of a murmur just for himself. "I was afraid those questions might come up."
A young girl in her early twenties with straight hair past her shoulders spoke in a clear voice saying, "They're not corporate guard. They might be Hrothgar's people?"
The old man, their leader Eight assumed, seemed to trust her council as he asked, "Did Hrothgar send you?"
Six made eye contact with the Leader briefly as he said, "Maybe."
"We didn't come here to hurt anyone," One said trying to play the peacemaker which Eight assumed would have a better than average chance of working with a bunch of people that didn't want to get caught in the middle of a shootout with well armed strangers. "Or get hurt," he added.
"Specially that last part," Six added.
One went a step further as he slowly began lowering his pistol. "Why don't we all just lower our weapons?"
Three squeezed his eye shut as if in the middle of some bad movie he couldn't wake up from. Even Six forgot himself enough to focus his attention on One and ignore the threat around him. The old man relaxed his stance, his own rifle dropping to his side, most of the locals following suit, as did Four and Six. "All of us," One added with a bit of command touching his normally hesitant tone. Three huffed but finally lowered his rifle.
Eight watched from her vantage point as the locals lead them out of the factory and deeper into the town. She debated with herself on the merits of following but finally decided against it. They were big boys and could handle things themselves for the most part. Besides if one of the locals actually did manage to catch her spying it might jeopardize the mission. Not that they could catch her.
/ / /
Three entered the Marauder first carrying a wooden crate full of vegetables. His light colored eyes smoldering with dark suspicion. He looked Eight over as the blonde lounged in the last chair, her feet just barely resting on the seat across the aisle blocking anyone from moving farther into the shuttle without disturbing her. He set his crate down in the cargo hold before turning and bringing Eight into his direct line of sight. "Just where the hell were you?" He demanded as Four followed him onto the shuttle, also carrying several crates similar to the one he had already set aside.
Eight didn't even bother to open her eyes as she said, "You guys appeared to have everything well in hand. Besides, what did you want me to do… Announce my presence to the locals by putting a round in the back of their leader's skull?"
"Like you were even there," Three countered.
"She was there," Four told him. "On the roof. The same position I would have attempted to secure."
Three responded with grunt of, "Right."
Eight opened her eyes matching Three's gaze. "Don't forget to give Andi the old I told you so spiel."
Four gave an amused snort as Six followed him onto the shuttle and set his crate down. "What's going on?" He inquired sensing the tension. Not that things weren't always a little tense with this group.
"Three doesn't believe Eight had our back," Four answered.
"She was there," Six said. "On the roof." He shrugged adding, "Figured she didn't want to spook the residents once we had things in hand. What they don't know… Right?"
One brought up the rear, setting his crate down, his posture brimming over with pent up aggravation. "This isn't right," he announced causing the others to face him. "Am I the only person who heard what they said? A shipment of arms? Obviously we were meant to help these people."
Three began to punch in the code to close the shuttle's doors. "You don't know that," he said.
"And the fact we have a cargo hold full of weapons… That's a coincidence?" He asked as if the answer should be as simple for everyone else to see as it was him.
"You're forgetting one important detail," Three begins in a mildly ominous tone. "The scary Lizard people that are on their way to this planet to destroy everything. Guessing you don't want to be here when they show up?"
Eight felt herself perk up, as if some long buried piece inside her core had been awakened. She was about to ask what was going on when she noticed Four's small hand gesture. He would explain things to her later, probably once they were back aboard the ship.
"Okay," One hedged slightly seeming to climb a rung or two down from his soap box. "I'll admit that part sounded bad."
"Alright," Six jumped in. "Let's table this discussions 'till we're back on the ship alright?"
/ / /
The Android, or Andi as Eight insisted on calling her, looked pensive as she stood just on the outside of the doorway leading into Two's quarters. It was an odd expression to see on her face. Andi and the others had only just returned from the planet with maybe a week's worth of provisions… If they were carefully managed. The others, One specifically, wanted a meeting to discuss their next move. "Something I can help you with?"
"Highly unlikely," she answered with an honesty only a machine could achieve.
Two graced her with a tiny smile deciding to rephrase the question. "What are you doing here?"
"On the planet, Eight requested that I disclose any anomalous results concerning the crews DNA profiles to you," the Android explained.
A slight frown creased Two's brow. "Do the others know?"
"Unlikely," the Android answered. "Eight returned to the shuttle approximately twenty-five minutes before the others. We talked for quite some time," she confided sounding mildly perplexed.
"Why so much sooner?" She had assumed the entire group met with the miners.
"Her objective had been accomplished and things were proceeding peaceably. She felt the others could handle the rest without screwing it up too much. Her words, not mine." She added almost apologizing for the mildly offensive terminology. "Eight also said, that for better or worse, you are the Captain, with a capital C. She felt that it was very important I understand that."
Two took a breath, this was so not what she wanted, despite the fact she had pretty much taken control right from the beginning when nobody else had stepped into the role of leader. Eight could have done the job, Four would have been a capable leader, possibly even One. Three definitely would relish the position if he ever got it.
Looking after herself, sure. She could handle that. Being responsible for seven other people, trying to merge them into a crew, maybe even some sort of family. A highly dysfunctional, overly volatile family. That was so much more than she felt comfortable with.
"And is there?" Two asked. "Some sort of anomaly?"
"Several actually. Eight herself," the Android informed her. "She possesses genetic markers that far exceed those possessed by normal humans."
"You mean she's not human?" Two asked. The girl looked human, she certainly acted human with all the prerequisite quirks.
"Quite the contrary," the Android responded. "She is, if you'll pardon the term, a superior human being. Less than one in ten millionth of a percent share these genetics, such as Five, only on a much smaller scale. Unlike Eight, Five's DNA is comprised of approximately seventy-three point two four percent of superior genetic material, though the vast majority of it is in a regressive state, dormant if you would. She possesses very few active genes, less than six percent."
"And Eight?"
"Nearly ninety-eight percent."
Turning slightly Two ran a hand through her dark hair. "How is that even possible?" She mumbled as her mind raced trying to make sense of the information inside her skull. According to the Android Eight was some sort of super freak and Five… No, Five was normal. Ok, so she had odd dreams. Everyone had the odd dream though, it was natural. "You said it was one in ten millionth of a percent. How did we wind up with two on board?"
"The most likely explanation is because Eight is Five's mother," the Android told her.
Two felt her world tilt as her legs stopped functioning. The only thing preventing her from sitting down hard was the Android holding her bicep. "That's not –" Two started but stopped. The Android wouldn't have said it if she wasn't positive. Five was in her mid teens and Eight was… Twenty-five and that was pushing believability. "Are you positive?" She couldn't help asking.
"Ninety-nine point eight percent," the Android answered. "Though it's not two but three on board that possess these superior DNA strands. Four shares them as well but to a much smaller degree, only about nine percent of his genetic code with less than half a percent active. This is probably the result of being further removed from the source material."
"And by source material you're referring to Eight?"
"I am," the Android acknowledged. "Possibly seven, maybe as many as nine generations removed."
Two smiled at that. "Alright," she said a bit of amusement distorting her voice. "You had me going there for moment."
A puzzled expression slid across the Androids face. "I do not understand?"
"Who was it… Three? Seven?" She asked with a bit of a head shake. They were the only ones on board that would have gone through with such a joke. It actually wasn't that bad. Five might have been hard to swallow but medically it might have been possibly she would have to check out the ships medical library to confirm it, but trying to claim Eight was somehow Four's great, great, great, great, great grandmother and she might have been short a couple of greats there. Only the Android's expression hadn't changed. "You can stop now," she ordered. "Joke's over."
Understanding seemed to light in her eyes. "You believe I am attempting humor to lighten what you and the other crew members are going through?" She stated with a complete lack of humor. "I assure you I am not capable of that level of empathy, nor offering a suitable facsimile."
"There's no way," Two said. "Eight couldn't be as old as you're suggesting. Look at her…"
"I have, many times and by physical appearance you would be correct. She does not look old enough to have a child barely five years her junior, but this ship does possess a vast medical data base which enables me to state, with the utmost confidence, that Eight is quite possibly the oldest person alive today. Unlike modern humans who undergo an array of genetic modifications from the moment of conception to birth in order to eliminate undesirable genetics; birth defects, predisposition to certain diseases; cancer, diabetes, heart disease just to name a few. Eight has never undergone any such gene therapy which would put her age, minimally at over five hundred and twenty three years when the first laws were passed making such procedures mandatory."
"That's…"
"Impossible," the Android supplied. "I know. According to my research of that time period humans possessed a much shorter life span, averaging little more than seventy-five years as compared to the nearly one hundred and thirty-one of the modern humans. Not including deaths by suicide, accident or other violent and unnatural causes. The only plausible explanation I can come up with at this time is the fact that Eight possesses these superior DNA strands…"
"That she's somehow immortal," Two whispered. It beggared the imagination to wrap her mind around the concept. To have lost everything and everyone you must have ever loved and cared for. It wasn't so dissimilar to what everyone aboard this ship was going through right now. In a way this was a fresh tabula for her; a clean slate. Did she somehow do this to herself and the rest of them, the rest of this ship just got caught up in the backwash? Could she blame her if she did? What lengths would she go through to forget five hundred years of memories and start over as somebody new? "Not a word of this to anybody. Not Five, not Eight no one." She took a breath and exhaled. "I'll talk with Eight after the meal. Tell her about Five…"
"But not about her age?" Andi surmised.
"That stays between us," Two said.
/ / /
"I'm telling you," One started emphatically with more than just a trace of anger coloring his voice, the meal sitting in front of him all but forgotten as he tried to bring the others around to his way of thinking. "The matching pendants. It can't be coincidence."
Two was on his left in the center of the table of the table and Eight was on his right at the end with Six directly across from him. Five was on Two's left and Seven next to her at the far end of the table facing Eight. Four was across from Five while Three was facing Two and had been shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in days.
"All I'm saying, even if we're suppose to be helping these people… Which I doubt? Doesn't mean we're going to do it," Three countered as he scraped the last remaining dregs from the bottom of his plate.
"We don't even know what happened to us," Two reminded everyone. "Or how we're going to get our memories back and those weapons would fetch a very good price on the open market. The money would go a long way," she pointed out.
"Except they're already paid for," One tried appealing to the group conscious. "They belong to the miners."
"Doesn't matter if they belong to the miners," Three countered losing what little restraint he had. He felt it was a miracle he hadn't shot One yet. "They're in our cargo hold. They belong to us now."
"Those people will die if we don't help them," Six said trying to remain objective.
"They're already dead," Four countered without emotion. It was a simple statement of fact.
Three glanced in his direction with a bit of surprise etched into his face at finding an unlikely ally. "Doesn't say much, but when he does… It makes sense."
"If their enemy is even half as powerful as they believe, then they're doomed."
Eight snorted, a bit of a dark smirk glittering in her eyes. "You got something to say pint size?" Three demanded. He had been hoping the little blonde was going to keep her mouth shut and simply eat her food.
"You…" she started but stopped reordering her thoughts. "We're all focused on this one narrative. Honest merchants hauling freight?" There was a mildly mocking quality to her tone. "The Corps still frown upon arming civilians with anything more dangerous than pitchforks and rocks, and the GA still considers running weapons to be a class A felony. No matter how you slice the apple, at the core it's still rotten." She shoved her plate away. It was nearly spotless. "And for those that didn't pick up on it, we're the apple. Not having our memories doesn't change that."
Three was looking at her with something she didn't care for. It was almost like he had discovered a new found respect for her. She felt soiled to the center of her being and knew it would be a long time before she'd manage to wipe away that feeling but she wasn't going to walk around with her head buried in the sand or deny who she was.
A killer.
One didn't let her statement stop him, she had to give him credit for his tenacity if nothing else. "The least we can do is give them a fighting chance," he told the others.
"I'm pretty sure the least we can do is nothing," Three argued. "Which for the record is what I'm suggesting we do," he finished leaning back in his chair.
"All right," Two cut in having listened to enough. It was time to put this issue to bed. One way or another. "Let's put it to a vote."
"Fine," Three started. "I vote, we keep the weapons, we sell them, take what we make to stay alive and find out what the hell happened to us."
"Agreed," Four added.
"I think we do what we know we came here to do," One countered. "To complete the delivery."
"He's right," Six said. "I say we help those people."
"Thank you," One said grateful for the support.
Eight wasn't much surprised. Out of everyone aboard the ship, the two of them were odd. There was an honesty, an almost naivety about them that the others lacked with the exception of the two teenagers, but they were young. "Without our memories or a proper ship log or manifest, we don't have a clue. For all we know this could have simply been the nearest place to pick up fresh veggies and other foodstuff at a reasonable price and those weapons just might be ours, or they could belong to a customer who's expecting them and will be mighty pissed at us for unloading them on some backwater world for, that was a mighty fine rutabaga you gave us, here have an automatic weapon, Vive la révolution. We keep the weapons, find the nearest station, learn everything we can about ourselves and go from there." She locked her gaze on One and added, "I do not feel like keeping one eye peeled over my shoulder or having to kill every Tom Harry Dick because we delivered the weapons to the wrong person."
Five looked disgusted listening to Eight. Some of the things the older woman said were concerning, she didn't want to look over her shoulder either waiting for someone she didn't know to make an attempt on her life but she didn't think she could stand by and let other people die just because it was easier then getting involved. "I want to help those people," she said.
Eight almost smiled at the earnestness of the girl's statement, but she kept the odd feeling well concealed. Two had been paying particular attention to the pair of them throughout the meal, it was subtle but it was there.
"Wait a minute," Three objected. So far it was three to two, he had never expected Eight to come down on his side of the fence but she had and he'd be damned if he lost that edge by allowing a pair of misguided teenagers votes. "She can't vote."
"Why not?" Five demanded aggravated with Three's attitude.
"'Cause you're kids," he answered.
"Who're members of this crew," Six countered.
"Who're kids," Three pointed out again. "What are you guys, like fifteen years old?"
Anger simmered just below the surface of Two's voice as she demanded, "Do we really have to have a vote to decide if they get to vote?"
For a moment Three was silent as he took a casual measure of the room's temperature then raised his hand. "I vote against their voting."
Five wasn't that surprised but she still couldn't help the disgruntled, almost laugh while One rolled his eyes and looked up towards the ceiling. Two reached for Five offering the girl support while Eight gave her head a slight shake. Six glanced at Three and Four kept his eyes downcast.
Three looked from Six to Eight, all the way around the table before coming to rest on Four. "Come on man," he said to Four. He figured Eight was a lost cause, female solidarity or something like it. "Throw up with me." He didn't quite plead but it was close. After a second he dropped his hand with a mildly reproving huff. "Fine," he started with a small amount of hostility lacing his tone. "Four to three," he said not waiting on Seven. He figured the kid would lean in the direction of his sweetheart anyway. "What do you say Boss Lady?"
Two drew a breath coming to a decision. Nobody was going to be happy with her. "Set half the crates aside." She turned, casting her dark eyes on One, "The rest go down to the surface," she said.
One wasn't happy, shoving his chair away from the table leaving his plate relatively untouched. "You done?" Eight asked as she grabbed the plate unconcerned with his answer as she shoved her empty one aside.
Three gawked at her. "Where the hell do you put all that?"
Eight shrugged at him, "Growing girl needs all the cals she can get."
Three smirked at her, for a pint sized powerhouse she wasn't as bad as he originally thought. She was still a bitch but a bitch he was getting better at understanding. "I'm pretty sure you stopped growing awhile ago. At least vertically," he added and then reacted just quick enough not to get an eye put out by a pea that whizzed past his head as if it had been fired from a pistol.
/ / /
Two approached Eight's quarters. The door was already opened and a soft haunting melody floated out of the chamber accompanied by Eight's melancholy voice. "All around me are familiar faces. Worn out places, worn out faces. Bright and early for their daily races. Going nowhere, going nowhere. Their tears are filling up their glasses. No expression, no expression. Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow. No tomorrow, no tomorrow."
Her voice changed, it didn't really brighten, but it suddenly found a little more energy as she switched from plucking individual notes to slowly strum a number of the strings at once. "And I find it kinda funny. I find it kinda sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had. I find it hard to tell you. I find it hard to take. When people run in circles. It's a very, very mad world, mad world." Occasionally she would still pluck an individual string or two between the slow strums but it only seemed to enhanced the chilling quality of the song.
Then it lost the little happiness it had found which caused it to become even darker, adding an underlying layer of moodiness as she once again began to pluck the strings. "Children waiting for the day they feel good… Happy birthday, happy birthday. And I feel the way that every child should, sit and listen, sit and listen. Went to school and I was very nervous, no one knew me, no one knew me. Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson. Look right through me, look right through me."
Entering the room she said, "I'd thought you'd be helping the others?"
"I contributed," Eight answered without looking, almost allowing herself to be mesmerized by the movement of her fingers dancing along the fretboard; the song, the beat and rhythm changing. "I gave Four the anti-grav sled so they wouldn't have to haul all those heavy crates by hand." The tempo of her playing speeding up as she concentrated the fingers of both hands on the four thickest strings between the first, second and third fret or leaving the string completely open as she struck almost attacking the strings as she repeated a specific pattern.
"You're really good at that?" Two complimented the blonde.
Eight snorted as she quickly stood up, placing the guitar on the bed. "I seem to be really good at a lot of things." She plucked a book, seemingly from random off her desk and tossed it to Two.
The brunette caught the book, quickly turned the book over. It looked expensive, real leather inlaid with gold along the script. She opened the book to somewhere near the middle. "I can't read it," Two admitted.
"I can," Eight replied. "Read it, speak it, translate it," she informed Two as she picked up a notepad from where it had been buried under several books. "In fifteen different languages and I only stopped because I got bored. Andi already verified each one is accurate," she said cutting Two off before she could say anything. "Do you know how long it takes for a learned skill to just be? Where you don't have to think about it."
"I'm going to assume you do," Two replied. "Andi supplied you with the information?" It was more of an educated guess than a question.
"Ten thousand hours," Eight answered. "That's probably close to three years at sixteen hours a day. Give or take a month or two," she added with a shrug as if saying what's a month or two? "That would make me close to forty-five. Do I look forty-five?"
"Maybe you're exceptionally intelligent," Two suggested. Eight wasn't stupid and was probably a lot smarter than most people expected her to be. Even if it took her five years to learn a language, it showed dedication and commitment. She played a part and let people make their own assumptions. No matter what she may have forgotten about herself she had retained that. "Gifted, like Five?"
"Do I give off the whole gifted vibe to you?" She so wanted to beat something right now. Maybe one of those alien lizard guys would show. A new purse to go with some of her shoes was so what she needed. And it would be combining retail therapy with violence. For some reason that thought brought a bright smile to her face. Taking a breath she centered herself and asked Two, "What did you want anyway? I'm sure you didn't drop in just so you could listen to me bitch."
Turning slightly Two closed the door. While she knew where most everyone was there was no need to take any risk with what she needed to discuss with Eight.
/ / /
"Knock, knock," Two heard Seven say as she made her way onto the bridge.
"Who's there?" Andi inquired dutifully.
"Banana," Seven answered with a smile.
Two couldn't help but smile at the young man. Whatever had led him to this ship she hoped he never outgrew his boyishness. "Really? Knock, knock jokes?" She asked.
At the same time Andi asked, "Banana who?"
Seven offered her a playful shrug but figured it was about time this particular joke. "Knock, knock." He said for the last time.
Andi replied with her standard, "Who's there?"
"Orange," Seven answered.
"Orange who?"
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?"
"After fifteen times, extremely," Andi replied honestly. "Now that Two has arrived on the bridge I was considering asking her to shoot you for me. Baring that, I was considering relieving her of one of her guns and shooting you myself. Someplace non-lethal of course."
Two hid her smile behind her hand as Seven grinned openly. "And you told me you didn't have a sense of humor?"
Andi frowned at him as she said, "I am being completely serious."
"We got to start somewhere," Seven said ignoring Andi. "Figured go with the basics and work our way up from there."
Two shifted her attention to the screen behind Andi, "Who's that?" she asked with a slight nod toward the static filled image of a man.
"She wouldn't tell me," Seven answered and then seemed to realize Two wasn't talking to him.
"I don't know," Andi answered succinctly. "The file is corrupt. This has been a difficult and tedious process," her gaze almost wavered toward Seven but she managed to maintain the pretense that she was discussing the data retrieval. "However I have managed to recover a sizeable data cache," she told Two.
"Let's see it," Two said. She could feel the tension in her shoulders, hear the apprehension in her own voice. Despite wanting to know the truth, she was fearful of the things that truth might reveal about herself and the others.
/ / /
Eight glanced at her quarter's open entrance as she heard Five's light but distinctive tread drawing closer. She quickly skimmed through the index before tossing it on her bed with several other hard, leather bound books. Each of them contained lengthy sections on dreaming; recognition and control.
Five raised her hand to knock on the bulkhead as she peered into Eight's room. She hadn't been sure what to expect, the swords and the knives were a given considering how the woman armed herself, but the number of books and the musical instruments were unexpected and a complete mystery just like most everything else on board this ship.
"You don't need to knock," Eight said without so much as a backward glance in Five's direction. The young girl suppressed the shiver she felt it creep along her spine, every time she thought she was becoming used to what Eight might be capable of the blonde casually dropped something new into the mix. "At least not while the door's open. Closed," she offered Five a shrug. "Enter at your own risk."
Eight was beyond freaky, Five decided. "Two said you had something for me," she said explaining her presence in a rush so she could escape Eight's presence as quickly as possible.
"On the bed," Eight said with an almost absent gesture in her bed's general direction. She had been there for a bit now, but the blonde still hadn't turned to face her and Eight had never struck her as the sort who didn't look you in the eye. She wasn't exactly the shy or retiring type. "Two mentioned you've been experiencing some troubling dreams."
A scowl flashed across Five's brow, there one moment and gone the next. She had thought she could trust the older woman not to go blabbing. "One dream, after I hit my head. And I wouldn't call it troubling," she griped.
Eight paused in her search, turning to look at the young girl for the first time. There was something in Eight's eyes Five had never thought to see there. At first she would have said fear, but Five doubted Eight was afraid of anything. It was uncertainty.
"Carving out someone's eyes as a message and you don't find it the least bit disturbing," she questioned as she edged several of her knives and a few other sharp implements just a little further away. Subtle Eight wasn't.
Five still felt her cheeks color at the implication. She didn't back down though. "It was one dream and it wasn't even mine so go track down the person it belonged to and tell him I don't want it anymore." She turned to storm out but found herself held in place as a warm hand took hold of her bicep. She twisted around glaring hard at the blonde, a bit of venom just waiting to be unleashed but the words died as she saw the deep well of concern brimming in the green eyes.
"Two's concerned about you," Eight said not giving Five an opportunity to pull away.
"And why would she come to you?" Five demanded. "Not like we're great friends. I don't think we've spent more than five minutes together when there hasn't been a room full of people surrounding us."
Eight took a calming breath as she let go of Five's arm. "Andi found certain similarities in our DNA profile and Two thought I might be experiencing these memory dreams," she explained. Not a lie, but not the truth either.
"Have you?" Five asked quickly.
Eight gave her head a soft shake, "Nothing like you. Then again I still see flashes, bits and pieces."
"That's something," Five said. What she wouldn't give for just one memory.
"I think I'd prefer your way," Eight said softly. "A clean slate to wipe away –"
"I need everyone on the bridge now," Two's voice cut through the comms. There was an edge to her voice.
"What's the matter?" One asked with concern. He had obviously heard the same emotional distress.
"Just get up here," Two answered.
"We better go," Eight said glad for the interruption.
Five picked up one of the books off the bed, frowned at the cover then opened to a random page, closed her eyes and exhaled. "You know this is written in Latin?"
"So," Eight said with an ambivalent shrug.
"I don't speak Latin and I sure don't read it," she pointed out tossing the book back on the bed.
"I'll translate it for you," Eight offered helpfully as she closed the door to her quarters. "Or better yet, I'll teach you to read it. Seriously what does the modern educational system teach you kids these days anyway?" Which earned her a bare whisper of a smile.
/ / /
They caught up with the others just as they rounded the corner leading to the bridge. One angled his path to intercept Eight, despite siding with Three he didn't hold anything against the woman. At least she was honest, and while she probably would stab you in the back you would know it was coming first.
"Did Two sound –"
"Upset," Eight cut him off in a hushed whisper before he said something loud enough for Five to overhear. She had taken to Two. More so than she probably ever would to her. She was surprised he caught her tone and dropped the matter.
He used his longer legs to eat up more of the corridor and entered the bridge first followed closely by Six. "What's going on?" He asked as Three and Four entered just after leaving Five and Eight to bring up the rear.
Two waited until everyone was on the bridge before answering. Seven looked pale, paler at any rate so whatever was going on wasn't going to be of the good. He gestured for Five and the young girl shot him a questioning look.
"Andi managed to recover a significant amount of data related to this ship and its crew," Two answered. Eight could still pick up on the undercurrents of anger lacing her tone but it was tightly reigned in.
"Well that's good," Six said with just a trace of hesitancy. "Isn't it?" He asked catching Two's posture and bearing.
An image appeared on one of the screens. It was a Galactic Authority Most Wanted bulletin with Three's face and the name, "Marcus Boone," the Android said. Then, just in case anybody couldn't read it she added, "Murder. Assault. Kidnapping. Piracy."
Six's face appeared next. "Griffin Jones. Murder. Assault. Smuggling."
One's image replaced Six. "Jace Corso. Murder. Assault. Kidnapping. Trafficking. Theft."
Eight replaced One. "Elizza Dawn. Murder. Assault. Piracy. Theft. Trafficking. Kidnapping. Smuggling. Arson. Terrorism. Espionage. Assassination."
Four's image appeared. "Ryo Tetsudo. Murder. Assault. Piracy."
Two's face came up last. "Portia Lin. Murder. Assault. Arson. Theft. Piracy."
The six fugitive's faces lined up on the screen side by side. "Turns out the Raza aren't a race of aliens," Portia informed the assembled group. "The Raza's the name of this ship. We're not here to help these people. We're here to kill them."
"No," Corso rebuked Portia's statement. "That's impossible." Denial was written large across his questioning features. "That can't be right? Can it?"
"I recovered the information from a fragment of the ship's log related to its crew list," the Android informed the group. "There is no reason to doubt its veracity."
"Of course not," Portia murmured softly. "In fact it all makes perfect sense now. The Raza…"
"This ship," the Android supplied trying to remain helpful.
"Yeah… But as far as the miners are concerned a race of blood thirsty aliens, monsters come to wipe them out."
"But the truth is we're nothing but a bunch of lowlife mercenaries," Jones added.
"Nay," Marcus started. "We're better than that." He pointed towards the screen, "We're also pirates and smugglers and thieves. It's a very diversified portfolio."
Corso twisted his head slightly, glaring at Boone. "You think this is funny?"
"It's my defense mechanism," Marcus smirked. "Humor," He paused for a moment. Then gave the screen an abbreviated nod just before he added, "That… And apparently killing people."
"I think we need to talk about our next move," Jones said.
"Well he's right you know," Marcus said before the silence could lengthen into something uncomfortable… More uncomfortable. "Oh, listen I don't wanna be the one to say it, but if all that stuff is true, then we came here to do a job…"
"You want to go down to that planet? Kill those people?" Corso demanded.
"No one's killing anyone," Portia declared unilaterally.
"I didn't say I want to kill anyone," Boone clarified. "I'm just talking about the people who hired us?"
"Ferrous Corporation," Six reminded the group. "Galactic combine."
"Exactly," Boone agreed. "Not the sort of folks you want to disappoint," he said with a brief look towards Dawn. She had made a good point earlier and he had no desire to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. "I'm guessing."
"Too bad," Corso said digging his heels in. "I'm no murderer," he added ignoring the screen and its claims.
Boone smirked again as he said, "That's funny, because the screen says otherwise."
"Yeah, I don't care what it says," Corso pointed out.
"So have you managed to uncover anything else?" Boone asked the Android.
"Unfortunately the rest of the data is corrupted," Andi informed the group.
"I suppose that's plenty," Six said. Anger running concurrently with bitterness and self loathing. Out of everything he had been expecting this hadn't even been a blip on the long range sensors. "A hell of a lot more than I wanted to know."
"We all wanted to know," Ryo said from the back of the group. "These are the memories we left behind. Death. Despair. Chaos. So what? They're no longer a part of us now, then what does it even matter?" Not waiting on an answer he turned and exited the bridge. The others quickly following behind him.
"Should I continue my attempts at data recovery?" Andi inquires. "Portia?"
"Don't," the brunette murmured. "Don't call me that," she added coming to a decision. "No computer file is going to tell me who I am. Call me Two," she finished. With anger driven steps she followed the others off the bridge.
"Okay Two," Andi agreed in the silence. Shifting her head slightly she took in the last remaining member of the crew aboard the bridge. "Do you have a preference as to which you wish to be called?"
The blonde shrugged at the question. "You can keep calling me Eight if it makes the others more comfortable in group settings. When we're alone you can call me Dawn if you want. Who knows, maybe this is a new beginning."
"Alright Dawn," Andi said experimenting with the name.
"Keep digging," Dawn said. "Anything you can find out. See what you can dig up about our… Atrocities. But do it subtle like."