Alright. So third story I've posted. For those of you who've read my Assassins Creed Story The Eagle and Hawk of Masyaf you may have seen me mention working on a transformers story. Well… Here it is. I've been working on it for a while, but I learned my lesson of promising chapters I haven't written yet so I've been working on this for a LONG TIME. So please forgive any errors or changes in writing style, details, or character. I've gone through and read this thing from beginning to end and I can see that the beginning isn't all that great, but I can promise that it gets better as you go along. It's a slow beginning, focusing on my OC, but it picks up pace really quickly because I get impatient.

I hope you enjoy.

I don't own anything except Dark Star. Not even the picture no matter how adorable it is. Don't sue me and I won't haunt you.

Chapter One

I opened my eyes to darkness and sighed quietly before sitting up. I looked around quickly to see if anyone was around before staggering to my feet in pain. Hissing, I pressed a hand to my rib cage to check for any fractures or breaks. Luckily, there were none. Forcing myself to my feet and look for my backpack, I grimaced.

The night before I'd had the chance to stash it before they had found me, so when I dug it out from under all the trash bags in a corner of the dark alley, the knowledge that all my precious work inside was fine was reassuring, but that didn't stop me from checking to make sure. Sighing in relief, I looked down at my clothes and was relieved that they weren't too dirty. I slapped most of the dirt and unnamables from my black jeans, which were two sizes too large, my baggy green T-Shirt, and very big black zip-up jacket. I felt immense relief when I realized that the men who had attacked me last night had only been after anything valuable I had been carrying and not after my body.

I shuddered briefly before pulling up my hood to hide my face in shadows and slinging my back pack over my shoulders. I headed for the exit of the alley and looked around to see where I was exactly. Once I had a good Idea of where I was, I began heading for my usual spot. As I walked I kept a wary eye out for anyone who might get into their heads that I was an easy target. Those men hadn't gotten anything off of me last night thanks to all those lessons I'd bargained for over the years. I knew over a dozen fighting styles and had them all down pat. The only reason I'd collapsed was because I hadn't been able to block that stupid steel pipe to the head, but I had been able to control my body enough to hold off unconsciousness until I'd fought off the huge burly trio.

On the streets, you had to learn how to fight or you would die.

I turned a corner on one of my several paths to my destination. You never knew if someone was watching you, so it was best to be as unpredictable as possible.

It was a good ten minutes of walking before the old buildings morphed into businesses and homes. Chicago was essentially divided into three parts. The poor lived in the outer most ring, the middle-class filled the middle ring, and the upper-class packed the very center that was Chicago, where all the skyscrapers, famous buildings, and bridges were. I was heading to the northern part of the middle class to spend the morning in my usual place. The streets lost the tense watchful feeling that they had where I lived and the feeling of business and…normalness took over. I went with the stream of other people walking in the busy streets and looked up at the skyscrapers coming closer. They were where I was heading.

It was another five minutes of walking and dodging wayward cars and people before I reached the Square. It was called just that because it was a huge concrete courtyard surrounded by buildings and filled with metal sculptures and benches and a playground for kids. I went over to the statue of a small girl smiling down at a lone flower that sat a little off to the side from everything else. It was about fifteen feet tall and made of bronze. The artist for it wasn't anywhere on it. I guess it was supposed to be a happy feeling you were supposed to get from the statue, but I only felt sad. The girl was smiling at a flower instead of someone else, like her father or best friend. Instead she was happy when she was alone with a single flower. How lonely and depressing.

I sat on the edge of the stone ledge that ran around the base of the stone stand the statue rested on. I slid off my backpack and gingerly dug around inside until I pulled out a plastic bag wrapped in cloth. This was how I kept my stuff waterproof so that none of my work was damaged. I pulled the circuit board out of the bag and checked to make sure that none of the wires or components I'd put on had been messed up. Satisfied that nothing needed fixed, I took out another cloth bag that was full with other wires and components. I crossed my legs under me, sat with a straight back, and set to work on the circuit board.

I hadn't been there 30 minutes when a woman's voice brought me out of my work. "Excuse me."

Looking up from the electronics, I saw an early-thirties woman standing five feet away, looking nervous, with a big purse slung over her shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Can I help you?" My voice was soft and quiet, but I had it just loud enough to where the woman could hear me. Looking over her attire, I realized that she was from the upper class if her designer shoes, Coach purse, expensive makeup, fancy hair-do, and designer business suit were anything to go by. I was instantly curious as to why she was here and bothering me, but I had a feeling why.

The woman's grip on her purse tightened before she met my black eyes under my hood, "I was told by a friend to look for a girl named Star in the Square by the statue of the little girl if I had any technology problems."

Ah. So I had been right. I put my stuff back in their bags carefully before giving her my undivided attention. I didn't say anything, just waited for her to tell me her problem.

She fidgeted under my gaze until she snapped at me, "Well? Aren't you going to say something?"

I snorted and felt my lips twitch in a small smile. "What do you expect me to say? I'm good with technology, not mindreading."

The woman glared at me angrily, "How about you tell me where I can take my problem. Where is this Star that everyone says can fix anything? I need my laptop fixed in two days." She lifted her nose into the air slightly and gave me a haughty look that said that I was way below her. I didn't have to think long about what she thought of the teenager in clothes that were way too big and dirty.

I felt my irritation begin to flare and half closed my eyes even though my hood already hid them in shadows. It was a habit since my bottomless black eyes freaked people out. I had to learn the tendency when I was young and a couple of drunk adults I'd had the misfortune of meeting had had enough of the little girl asking for money with her big creepy black eyes. The scar that ran from below my right eye down in a straight line to my jaw attested to that fact.

I schooled my face into an emotionless face before replying, "I'm Star."

The woman scoffed in disbelief. Apparently her friend hadn't told her a few things about me. "You're only a kid. A high school kid at best. What are you? Fifteen years old? Sixteen?"

Seventeen, I answered silently, but I was used to people calling me young and too little, so I didn't feel any resentment at her demands. Well, I was roughly seventeen years old. I had no clue when I was born so I was going on how many years I could remember going by. I only sighed and changed the subject, "Look, Mrs…"

"Gurter," she snapped, and sniffed at me, giving me a quick disgusted once over. "But I wouldn't expect a little Goth kid like you to know such a prestigious woman like me."

I felt my lips quirk at the challenge she was presenting and took it. "Mrs. Gurter. The 28 year old woman, who has had her 28th birthday for 6 years now. Wife of William Gurter, who is a well established business man who deals in cell phones, computers, and other electronics. But he's been dealing with trafficking cocaine ever since Apple came out with their new slim laptop. And, if my sources are correct, it is his wife Samantha Gurter who introduced him into that business once the income started decreasing. And my sources also tell me that Mrs. Gurter regularly sees a 21 year old man over on Tellie Avenue." I trailed off my recitation with a small smile as Mrs. Gurter stiffened considerably and turned an interesting shade of purple. I held up my hand to stall her when her mouth opened. "Don't worry, Mrs. Gurter. I sometimes ask for information as payment for some jobs, and that information stays with me all the time." I shrugged nonchalantly, "I have no reason to use it. Unless you give me one, which I doubt you will." I was satisfied to see that her mouth snapped closed with a small clack of perfect teeth and her eyes to look anywhere but me. "Now, on to business," I announced, bringing her eyes back to me. "You said you needed a laptop fixed in two days."

The woman was much nicer, or at least cooperative, now that I had knocked her down a peg. She nodded quickly, and I admired how her fancy up-do didn't move an inch at the movement. Mrs. Gurter ducked her head to dig through her mammoth sized purse and pulled out a Dell laptop. She hesitated and hugged it to her chest. "You aren't going to steal or break it, are you?" Her dirt brown eyes shot daggers at me.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "Mrs. Gurter," I chastised. "Think about what you just said. You've heard of my work, right?" She nodded after a pause. "And what have you heard of me?"

I wasn't fishing for a compliment, but Mrs. Gurter seemed to think I was by the way her eyes narrowed, but she answered all the same. "I heard that you do great repairs on pretty much everything that needs electricity to run and that you'll do work for cheap and rarely for money. You do work if people do favors for you. Like pay for lessons or get you the odd object here and there."

"And have you ever heard that I failed or disappointed anyone who came to me?"

The woman would've been hissing right now if she could. "No," she spat, not liking it one bit that I was pointing out that she was false in her accusation.

I waved a hand at her, "So there's the answer to your question. Now, can I see your computer?"

Even though she was pissed at me she still handed me her Dell with care. I opened it in my lap and immediately saw the problem. I sighed and shook my head, "You said you want this done by the day after tomorrow?"

She nodded and fidgeted again before taking a step forward and asking with concern, "Do you think you'll be able to fix it? I went to other people before you and they said it was irreparable, that I should just get a new one."

I ran a caring hand over the damaged computer and felt my heart go out for the abused technology. I know it was strange to care so much about electricity and wires and circuit boards, but it was my thing, like how an artist was upset when they saw a damaged painting: I just felt that technology should be taken better care of. "It would be less of a hassle if you got a new computer," I replied and I saw her shoulders sink in defeat. "But," I continued and she perked up a bit. "I might be able to repair it. The coffee you spilt on it can cause a little or a lot of damage. The problem is that I can't tell the extent of the damage right now. It can be anywhere from just a few fried wires to a circuit board that needs replaced or that the entire motherboard is shot to hell."

"Language!" Mrs. Gurter hissed and I shot her a look she couldn't see.

I let it go and closed the laptop, "Did the other people you took your computer to open it up to see the damage? It could save me some time if I already knew what the problem was."

She shook her head, "No. They just looked at it and said it was better to get a new one."

I straightened in indignation and demanded harshly in my cold voice, "What?" I reigned in my frustration and irritation when the other woman briefly flinched. "They didn't even open it? What kind of repairmen are they? They're not, that's what. They're just men hoping to get an easy paycheck. Stupid, lazy people. They didn't even look to see what the problem was. How inconsiderate. The laptop didn't do anything wrong to get treated this way. Nothing." I mumbled under my breath while glaring at the ground. Taking a deep calming breath, I faced the now confused woman. "I'll see what I can do. Come back here in two days and I'll either have your computer or the name of the place you can get a new computer for cheap. Okay?"

She nodded, a frown of confusion still on her face. She was about to turn away before she turned back towards me and asked, "What do I owe you for this?"

I frowned this time, but in thought instead of confusion. What did I want? A new life, the tired part of my mind said, and I sighed in agreement. I didn't want to have to look over my shoulder every minute to check and see if someone was after me for the work I did or the business I stole. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I just wanted someone to be by my side and watch my back for me. Something gripped my heart and throat in a painful hold and I shut my eyes to fight off the sting of tears. I was so tired. Tired of everything.

I pushed off the suffocating despair with everything I had and finally looked up at the waiting woman. "A book," I replied. "One on astronomy. A thick one with as much information in it as possible."

The woman nodded and finally left me alone. I placed the Dell in my backpack with care before hurriedly pulling the circuit board out of its baggy. I began fiddling with the wires and components with shaking fingers in hopes that my work would push away the desolation and sadness. It took a few hours and multiple close calls to breaking down before I finally calmed my emotions and stuffed them into my glass jar. It was then that I glanced at my watch and saw that it was now 11:30.

Packing my stuff away into my backpack before leaving my spot, I moved out of the Square and to the edge of the city, only a mile away from where the city met desert and stood atop a ramp that sloped down into a dark tunnel. The entire length of the twenty foot ramp was filled with warning signs and 'Do Not Enter' signs. I ignored them and snaked my way past them all to disappear into the dark. It eased my always present tension a bit that if anyone looked, no one would be able to see me since I was dressed in all black surround by pitch black.

I didn't need to turn on a light to know where I was going. I've been coming here ever since I could remember. The earliest memory I possessed was tripping over a forgotten crack and breaking a finger. I knew that the ceiling was only ten feet high now, but if I kept walking it would eventually reach forty feet in height, that each and every tunnel was 15 paces, or 30 feet, wide, and where each and every bump and drop was in the abandoned tunnels.

As I turned a corner I thought of how silly the city was for leaving the tunnels like this. Ever since that big earthquake when I was little no one dared to come down here into the ancient tunnels, for fear that they would collapse. I knew they wouldn't. I don't know how I knew, I just did. This was my sanctuary and it wouldn't force me out. I had no clue what these tunnels were originally built for to be made so big, but I didn't care. It suited me just fine.

I turned another corner, took 15 steps before stopping and reaching my right hand out. Sure enough, my hand brushed a small swinging metal box. Latching on to it, I pressed the button on the top. Bright lights came on with a snap and I squinted in an effort to avoid the shocking pain from the abrupt switch from pitch black to glaring brightness.

After a couple moments, I blinked away the last of the black spots and looked around at my domain. The cavern was box in shape. Thirty to fifty feet tall, 60 feet wide, and 40 feet deep. It was truly a massive place, but I used pretty much most of it. The entire left wall was covered in shelves at 3 foot intervals going up with some spaces running in between them so I could rest a ladder against the wall and reach the upper shelves. And the upper shelves were positively filled with every single electronic device imaginable. For my projects and work I would rifle through my treasure trove for replacement parts or small pieces I needed. I had individual pieces laying on those shelves, whole desktop computers, televisions ranging from different time periods… You name it and I probably had it. Even the illegal technology I shouldn't have. I was a bit of a packrat like that. And despite its chaotic appearance, it was all organized to the point where I could find whatever I needed with the exception where I would pick something up and leave it somewhere in the cavern.

The back wall had an assortment of mismatch tables crowded with thirteen different projects at the moments. Some of them you could look at them and tell what I was doing, like making that little robot over there in the corner, and sometimes you would look at one of my projects and think, "What the hell is she trying to create there? The Eiffel Tower?" They ranged in size from the size of a toy truck or a toaster to the size of a Rottweiler to the size of a small car. That particular project was sitting in front of the tables, for it weighed too much for the tables to carry. I'd learned that the hard way and weeks of repairs. Each project had about ten feet on either side so I had plenty of room to place my tools and needed objects around the object they belonged to. On the wall above those tables was where I hung my tools on pegs when they weren't being used.

The right wall was my personal wall. I had several bookcases of various sizes filled to the brim with books I bargained to get; I also had multiple spinning racks filed with CDs. There was a small couch resting there, which was where I would sleep or chill and watch the news that I had sent from one of my computers to the huge 25x50 inch flat screen hung on the wall. I'd had to work particularly hard for that one and it had taken quite a bit of muscle work and timing to get down here since if I was caught down here, I could get arrested. There was also a stereo that had wires running out of it to the dozen or so speakers positioned all over the cavern.

The center of the room was completely empty for whatever use I wanted for it. The cavern itself was so roomy and…me. It had taken me my entire life with blood, sweat, tears, and frustration to get it to where it was now. It was my home as far back as I could remember and I had improved it and made it more hospitable with the lights and added touches over the years. This was the one place I could go where I would be safe. No one knew I was down here and I was safe. That was a word I could rarely use.

I winced and reached to touch the scar that ringed my neck before turning to the wall closest to me.

On the very last wall, just to the right of the massive doorway I was standing in, was three matching tables holding up multiple monitor's and key boards. I headed there now and gently placed my backpack under the tables as I sat down in the spinning wheeled office chair. I pushed myself easily down the tables until I stopped myself in front of the largest of the mismatched monitors. Pulling one of the old keyboards towards me, I hit the Enter Key and all the monitors flashed green as they came online.

I sometimes jokingly referred to this monitor wall as my 'spy wall' because I had designed it to look like something I'd seen in a movie. It was a good thing that my cavern was underground where all the major electrical lines were only a matter of finding and tapping into. And the city would never know that I was using a crap load power for my cavern.

I snorted a bit as I shrugged out of my jacket. There was no need to wear it down here where no one would find me. For a moment, I looked down at the scars that marred my arms from all the times I had tried to defend myself and failed, and then gotten beaten later for trying to defend myself. One hand reached up to touch my very tender and swollen knot on top of my head before I looked at my reflection in the monitor screen.

I was tall for a girl my age. I guess I was a woman if you wanted to get technical with my age. I was 5'9" with tan skin from all the time I spent exercising when I wasn't working. My face was blemished by three thin white scars. There was the one that ran from below my right black eye down to my jaw. It was sort of like a cheesy tear track from a movie. Then there was the one that was jagged and three inches long on the left side of my forehead, and then there was the thin white line than ran from the corner of my left eye to just below my left ear. Those scars were pretty small and unnoticeable compared to the ones that basically covered my entire body. There was hardly a place untouched. And I knew how I came to carry those scars. Each and every story was burned into my mind since I refused to let myself to forget each lesson those scars represented.

I had normal eyes with the exception that instead of having brown or green irises I have deep bottomless black eyes. You could hardly find my pupils in all the black. I had a normal nose. Not too big. Not too small. I also had full red lips. But my one vanity was my incredibly long black hair.

I pulled my butt length black braid over my shoulder and looked it over. It would be better for me to just cut it: so it couldn't be used to hold me in place or hurt me, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. This was the one thing that made me feel…beautiful in a body that was disfigured by the scars of fights and just trying to survive. The braid was as thick as my forearm and loosely wound, so when I let it out of its bindings my hair would be an extremely long shiny curtain of black ink that could pool around me if I sat down. Out of its braid, my hair was a bit longer than mid-thigh. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cut it more than an inch or two to get rid of split-ends.

I pushed my braid back over my shoulder and clicked the Enter button again and the green screens disappeared to black to be replaced with a single line of green text that read "Password" and had a flashing line to tell me where I was typing. Quickly entering my 27 character long password, I watched as each screen flashed to where I had left it when I had shut it down last night. The center eight monitors were split into four sections each and showed a night vision shot of various tunnels. I had cameras placed throughout the tunnels so I would know if someone was in fact in the vicinity. I also had motion and heat detectors placed along the with the cameras to set off an alarm that would bring me out of whatever project I was working on to come see the invaders. Normally the invaders were just teenagers who were down in the 'dangerous and haunted' underground tunnels on a dare and only needed a few random noises to scare off, but it never hurt to be prepared.

The other eight monitors, four on each side of the center eight, were for various interests. Some of them hand several articles pulled up on discoveries. Some of them had video clips running and some were hacked into various government networks. Those were very delicate, but very well hidden hacks. I'm not a government conspiracy crazy person, but I did this a few years back to test my skill in hacking. It had taken me five years and two months to finally get through to the good stuff without getting caught.

I was good.

Not even the government could keep out me, a teenager. But I would give them credit. Even with all my illegal toys and equipment they had had a pretty impressive, intimidating, and complicated firewalls and defenses. I'd had a few close calls while working on that project, but had managed to lose whoever had managed to pick up my presence by erasing my trail and laying low for a little while. It certainly didn't help that the government was constantly upgrading their security for the better stuff. It had been downright annoying sometimes when I would start hacking one day and there would be an entire new wall that hadn't been there the day before in front of my progress.

After making sure that nothing was showing up on my cameras, I wheeled myself down to said government computers and looked at what the good ol' US of A was up to today. My fingers flew over the keys as I brought up various documents and orders that had been uploaded recently. My eyes scanned them with a practiced eye and discarded those that were monotonous and just 'blah' and looked for the ones that were gold. I always got a thrill when I went through any government information. I could go from CIA to FBI to NSA to the freakin' president's personal computer to any database I wanted to and no one would know. That's what was cool. The arrogant bastards didn't know that an seventeen year old girl had access to pretty much all their files and dirty laundry.

I smiled a bit at that thought as I cruised on into recent army orders and read them over. I frowned in thought before spinning over to my second government computer and clicking on the search box. I typed in 'Lennox, William' and watched as the data poured in at this man. I whistled at the awards and prestige this man had and glanced back over at the order on the other screen. A man by the name of William Lennox had been sent overseas to a military base dubbed 'SOCCENT' in Qatar with his team. I ran multiple searches on the other men in Lennox's team and pulled all of their very official files next to each other. A dozen men and all of them were names and faces I'd read many times before. It seemed as if Lennox, the man who was in charge of the team, and his men were called into pretty impossible situations. And if their mission records were correct then they had succeeded in every mission with minimum casualties. These guys were the top dogs and the best of the best.

"Good luck," I murmured as I turned away from my 'search government' computer and faced my 'information government' computer. I scanned for anything else of interest. There wasn't really anything besides a terrorist the CIA had caught and a motion the Secretary of Defense, John Keller, was trying to get through. I liked the Sec. Def. and rooted for him a lot. He wasn't like any of the other blood sucking politicians. He seemed to be genuinely concerned for his country and the men who fought for it. If the motion to have a larger amount of time soldiers have on leave was passed than Keller would be a much loved man. "Hope you get it passed," I quietly said for Keller.

I finally spun away from my computers after a quick glance at the news video monitors. There was nothing of concern being streamed at the moment, so I left those monitors on mute and scooped up my backpack before heading over to my personal wall. I pushed the power button to the stereo so it could wake up while I looked for some music that I was in the mood for. I spun one rack and frowned when I couldn't decide on what to listen to. I shrugged and plucked a CD case after a moment. When in doubt, Linkin Park, I thought idly as I slid the disc into my stereo. It wasn't a fancy new stereo by any means. I saw no reason to buy something brand new. What you bought brand new last week will fall out of popularity next week, but my stereo was tough and I may have modified it a time or two, so I didn't think of scraping it. Much.

As the speakers clicked on and started playing a song, I went over to my project wall and set my backpack in the empty space I kept for jobs I was given. I took the laptop out and opened it up for me to see before standing back and looking at it. I hesitated for a moment and glanced at the 'Eiffel Tower' looking project. I had the urge to just forget the Dell and keep working on my project, but I sighed and eased the urge with the thought that if I finished the laptop now I wouldn't have to stop later to do it.

I looked at the screws that held the Dell together before walking down my tables to pluck up my needed screwdriver. I had the piece of machinery open in only two minutes and I frowned in thought as I observed the guts. My experienced eyes immediately saw where wires and been burned in a short circuit and where a small circuit board had been damaged beyond a simple repair. It wasn't as bad as a few I'd seen before. Picking up a much smaller screwdriver I released the circuit board from its confines and turned it over to look at the other side before tossing it over my shoulder into the 'scrap' pile.

I walked over to my shelves and went over my sorting list in my head before looking up three shelves to see my broken down laptop collection. Luckily, the shelf was close enough to the ground so I didn't have to fetch my heavy ladder from the other side of the room to get the Dell laptop. Calling up my mental memory log, I recalled that this model of Dell had only come out six months before Mrs. Gurter's and should have very similar insides. When a company comes out with a 'new' laptop, they usually changed one small thing about the computer design, which made my job easier.

I opened up the broken laptop and found the circuit board I needed, as well as the small components that the heated wires had fried. Twenty minutes later of delicate work had all the pieces replaced and the slightly dismantled broken Dell back on the shelves. I then picked up a rag and began dabbing up any traces of the coffee that had been spilled.

It was as I was leaning in close to peer around the guts that my stomach rumbled loudly at the scent of coffee. I frowned and stood back as I thought. I'd forgotten to buy a breakfast that morning because waking up in an alley tends to do that and I'd left the Square around lunch time. When I looked over my shoulder at my monitors, I scowled. The tiny corner clocks on all the screens were invisible from 40 feet away. "I really need to get a clock," I muttered to myself as I turned the now dry and fixed Dell laptop right side up and powered it up.

I smiled as the screen came alive. It was always a pleasant feeling when I was able to take something that other people would give up on and make them like new. Some repairmen wouldn't even think to clean up any remaining coffee. And some won't even bother to open up the computer, I thought with irritation. Sighing, I powered down the laptop and put it back in my pack so I wouldn't forget it later, because I would with how lost I became in my projects.

I was looking at my other 13 projects and wondering which one I should work on next when my stomach growled again. My eyes narrowed and I growled right back at it in annoyance. "Why can't you shut up for a little while?" I demanded as I glared down at the noisy part of my body. "I know you're hungry, okay? Now shut up and let me work." My stomach growled louder in response, and I sighed breaking down as I felt the beginning ache of a headache coming on.

I really needed to eat more than I did. I was nearly skin and bones underneath my oversized clothes, and even if I did have that three thousand dollar stash of cash among my shelves I couldn't really find a place to eat. The gangs and business people I upset with my work made sure that it was hard for me to live. The gangs who had a particularly deep grudge and hate towards me would have a few of their boys at most of the diners and restaurants. Now in a city as big as Chicago I could just walk down the street and find another place to eat, but these boys patrolled the eating places constantly. They would look in to see if I was there and then move on to the next place. Not to mention the gangs had the business owners warned against not serving me unless they suddenly wanted to get robbed or assaulted. And the gangs were very thorough when it came to me. I stole a lot of work from them because I was so well known in Chicago.

I slid on my jacket and took a few twenties from one of my multiple jars of money and headed out of my cavern after turning off the lights and music. I began to wander the streets, while keeping a watchful eye out for the gang symbols I was familiar with. You'd think that gangs would get that if they didn't wear their representative colors or pictures that they'd be less noticed when they didn't want to be seen, but no. I've had more than one group of gang members try and follow me back home, but I'd caught on to them quickly thanks to the clothes they wore. They never seemed to learn.

After having to actually walk to the other side of Chicago, taking two hours to do so in the process, I finally managed to find a fast food place that wasn't being watched. And when I went inside I didn't see the managers pale in fear. It was a quick uninterrupted stop thankfully, and I was out of there in a little over five minutes. As I walked I dug into the paper bag and pulled out a cheeseburger and began to munch. The stuff was bad for me, but I took what I could get. The gangs made my life a little bit of an inconvenience and it wasn't like I could go to a grocery store and then carry the bags home. First, I didn't have a refrigerator, though that might get useful if finding food got any harder than what it was now, and, second, it's a little hard to remain unseen or run when you rustle and clank with every step and you're weighed down by thirty pounds of products. So, I made do with whatever I could get my hands on.

It was as I was chewing on my last bite that I heard someone shout, "There she is!"

I spun and saw a group of four boys run at me, ignoring that there were innocent bystanders around. Nearly choking on my food, I spun on heel and sprinted away. Now I may be thin and fragile-looking, but I lacked in strength I made up in speed. I could've disappeared from the sights of the younger boys if the bang of a gun hadn't gone off. As usual with giving a teenager a gun it hit nowhere near me, but out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman go down clutching her side. I swore and skidded to a halt as people screamed around me and either fled or fell to the ground to avoid any other shots. Pivoting, I reached into my sleeves and grasped the hilts of the knives and pulled them from their sheathes I had sewn into my jacket.

I snarled soundlessly and sprinted at the boys, who had halted in surprise at my change in tactics. That surprise turned into determination as the idiot who had already pulled a gun moved to aim a shot at me and the idiots buddy's reached for what I assume was their own guns. When I saw that the boy was almost aimed in my direction, I dove to the side and rolled to my feet only to lunge at the nearest boy. I slashed on boy deeply in his left shoulder and switched my grip on the other knife to cut into another boy's back. Both of them yelled out and collapsed from the 'agony' they were in. I felt something inside me harden. They didn't know the pain I did.

I dropped into a smooth crouch and scored another cut into the third boy's thigh. The fourth boy had fear written on his face as I swept his legs out from underneath him and straddled his chest after kicking his gun away. The fear on his face turned to terror as I raised my knife and brought it down as if to stab him through the eye. He screamed in a very unmanly way and stiffened like metal when I stopped the knife a mere centimeter from his dark brown eye. I held my blade there for a moment before whipping it away to wipe away any blood off on his white and neon yellow shirt. He was part of the Gold Collector gang.

I met his eyes with my black ones and coldly said, "You're an idiot for getting involved in a gang. Get out before you die." I jumped off of him and strode over to the woman who had taken that bullet to her side.

She didn't seem to see me as I knelt beside her. Her blue eyes were wide and dull with shock and pain. I placed my hands on her where they were clutching her now red side. I looked back up at her face and saw that her breaths were coming in very short and fast pants and that her hands were very chilled. I gritted my teeth and tried to remember the little knowledge I had on human anatomy, which was next to nothing with the exception on how to disinfect and sew up a wound and how to set a broken bone.

I turned my eyes away from the woman and caught the eyes of a balding man who was staring at me with wide eyes from his prone position on the ground. "Come here," I ordered with an even voice, but the man paled a little when he heard the 'don't you dare disobey me' tone. The man came closer and I tersely ordered, "Take off your sweater and give it here." He opened his mouth to argue but shut it quickly when I let him see a glare from me. I took the large sweater and tore it in two, ignoring the slightly overweight man's yelps of protest. Lifting the barely conscious woman a little, I tied half the scarf around her midriff to hold the other half of the bundled up sweater over the bullet wound. "Keep pressure on this," I commanded, pointing at my sweater bandage. He was beyond pale at the moment and I wondered briefly if he would faint while listening to me before focusing on the woman again.

"Hey," I called as I lightly slapped the woman's clammy cheek. Her only response was to loll her head away from. I did this a few more times with a little more force behind each slap until the blue eyes finally blinked and focused on me. "I need you stay awake for me, okay?" I only got a frown of confusion before she gasped and arched in pain.

"Not too much pressure!" I hissed at the frightened man. I didn't resent the incapable man for it. He did just see a gang try and kill a teenage girl and said teenage girl take them out in only a few seconds with only knives.

"Hey, hey. Look at me, lady. I need you to tell what your name is and where you live." Those blue eyes only rolled in terror and pain and I was about to repeat the request when I heard the sound of sirens getting closer. My head snapped up and I guessed on the distance and time until I had cops swarming the place. I glared at the bald man and instructed, "Don't let her fall asleep. She needs to stay awake." I think, I added silently. I was so nervous at the moment, but I had to push the feeling away as a cop car peeled around the corner not too far away.

I swore in Chinese briefly as I turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. It was just my luck that another cop car came on to the street as I was running across. I would've been hit if I hadn't dove into a roll and slid under a car that had been abandoned when the gun had been fired. Running again in an instant, I swore in Russian when I heard sirens coming closer to me and looked over my shoulder to see the cop car I had just dodged coming after me. You almost hit me, you dumbass! I mentally shouted. Can't you stop while you're ahead?!

Apparently not, because I had to lose the cops in some twisting alleys and eventually one that wasn't big enough for the car to go through and even then the cops chased me on foot, but I lost them soon enough when they couldn't cheat at speed with their car. But even after I'd lost the cops, I kept running. I needed to get out of the area and quick before I was stuck somewhere when everyone, gangs and cops, were looking everywhere for someone who looked even the slightest bit suspicious. I didn't really keep track of where I was running, only that I was. I figured that if I had no clue where I was going than no one else would either.

By the time I came to my senses, I was weaving my way through the forest that surrounded Chicago. It was then that I finally slowed to a walk and started to catch my breath. I had no clue how far I'd run, but I knew it was far if the trembling in my legs were anything to go by. I could naturally run for a long time and if I was feeling even the slightest bit tired than I'd run quite a distance, and that means it will probably take me a while to get home.

I groaned at that thought, but kept walking further into the forest. The sky was settling down into a sunset when I broke the tree line and came upon a meadow. A rather large one at that. It was roughly 100 meters by 100 meters. Sighing I plopped down on to the grass and got comfortable to watch the sunset. It had been a while since I'd made the trek out of the city to just sit outside among nature and just watch the sunrise or sunset.

"At least I got something out of this mess," I said aloud. I reached up to scratch my nose when I stopped at the sight of red. I looked at my hand and saw that it had blood drying on it. My other hand had the same. The thought of blood brought the injured woman to mind.

I really hoped that I hadn't hurt the woman further than she already had been. I knew technology. Not human bodies. If I had any skill in that department I would've been working to earn money to get into med school, but I had none. I only knew how to take care of myself and even that was probably done horribly too with the number of infections and scars I'd put under my belt, but when I needed the knowledge I hadn't had it. I didn't know if the woman had gone into 'shock', whatever that meant. I didn't know if the bullet had hit an artery or anything else of equal importance. I could've been able to increase the woman's odds of surviving if I knew what I had been doing.

But I hadn't and that weighed on my mind heavily.

I watched the sunset with eyes that saw but didn't really see at all as my mind brought up every single scenario that could've happened to the woman. She could've bled out after I had left. The bald man could've put more pressure than needed and made the wound worse. The woman could've been picked up by the paramedics but only to flat line later as her heart gave out underneath all the stress. More gang members could've shown up and delayed the paramedics until the woman died on the street.

And then my mind went to the repercussions of the woman's death. Did she have a husband? Children? I couldn't recall a wedding ring, but I hadn't been looking for one at the time. Would her husband mourn her and go into a depression? Would her children understand that they were never going to see their precious mother ever again? Would the woman's elderly parents come to terms that their daughter had died?

So many things ran through my head and let all those guilty and horrifying thoughts tear up my conscious because I deserved it for not being prepared. Right when someone was depending on me I hadn't been able to come through. I could've hurt the woman more than helped.

I closed my black eyes and took a shaky breath as I recalled the agony that had rolled across the woman's face. It was worse than the 'agony' I'd given those gang boys. That had been real pain that I couldn't have faulted her for. I purposely called up the image of those blue orbs filled with panic and fear. I purposefully called up the helplessness and nervousness I'd felt.

I hadn't known what to do, and that was what scared me. It was why I read so many books. Nonfiction, fiction, mystery, biographies; I read them all in hopes to make up for the school I never went to, but it looked like that my own studies had fallen through where it should've helped.

I pushed my hood back and looked up at the now star filled black sky. "I don't know if anyone's up there," I said, my eyes moving from star to glowing star. "But if there really is a powerful being like 'God' up there and you can hear me, help me out here please. Let me put what little I can do and know to use. Let me help people where others can't. Let me help and save a few lives. Let me actually be able to be of use."

With that said I laid back with my hands under my head and my braid safely away from the dirty ground on my body. I observed the stars and tried to make sense of them. Sadly, I couldn't. Yet another thing I was lacking in knowledge. I could make out the big dipper like everyone else could, but that was all. Or was that the little dipper? I didn't know.

I looked at one star in particular and thought about why I had named myself after that lights that hung in the sky every night. When I was little I hadn't really known that I should have a name until I heard a mother playfully playing a name game with her little boy. That little boy is probably much older now, but the missing feeling had filled my small heart all those years ago. Worse than what it was then and was now to the point that it nearly drove me insane. It was on one such night like this around 14 years ago that I looked up at the black sky with my equally black eyes and looked at one star. I remember thinking that although there were so many stars in the sky, they all seemed alone. Like me.

So I named myself Dark Star, or Star for short. It was silly to name yourself Dark Star instead of Bright Star or something of that sort, but the name had resonated with something in my heart and had felt right, so I had kept all these years.

I sighed and couldn't tear my eyes from that one star in the sky. It was another few moments before I frowned in confusion and squinted my eyes at the speck of light. "I have to be seeing things," I said aloud. "There's no way that star is…" I trailed off as I slowly rose to my feet and my mind finally believed what I was seeing.

The star was getting bigger and brighter.

My heart began to race as the star got bigger and bigger by the second. And then my heart almost stopped when I realized that the star wasn't getting bigger.

It was getting closer.

And it was heading for me.

By the time that that thought registered in my head it was too late to move. The flaming streak of something clipped a few trees before taking them out altogether and then crashing smack dab in the middle of the clearing. I held back a small scream as I felt the massive shockwave from the crash sent me flying back through the air as a thundering BOOM! assaulted my ears.

I blinked the black spots from my vision and sat up seconds later from where I'd been flung a little into the tree line. I took in the scene before me with wide disbelieving eyes. There were small fires visible among the grass and trees were splintered and toppled clear across the clearing, but that wasn't what held my attention.

My eyes were focused on the lump of black…something that rested only thirty feet from me. I got on to surprisingly steady feet and approached the something without a second thought of running away. Something in my heart just pushed me forward and said that I needed to do this. I've never needed to do something more than I did at that moment. I felt like if I had the ability to turn and run away that my heart would rip apart. For once, that ever present feeling of something missing abated in my heart to the point that I could hardly feel it at all.

The something that had crashed was big. It was about fifteen feet long and six or seven feet wide. It was like a pill in shape. As I got close I realized the thing wasn't really black: it was more of a dark grey or blue and had a couple weird swirling pictures drawing on the 'pill' thing. They were probably the size of my hand or both of my hands put together and something inside of me said that those swirling figures were words in another language.

I was about ten feet away when I heard a faint humming start up and I froze. The humming picked up in volume and the pill shook for a brief moment before it began to move.

Before it began to transform.

So…. This was just a chapter to introduce my OC Dark Star. I'm not trying to create a Mary Sue, but like I said in the beginning, I began writing this a while ago, so please forgive. I promise Dark Star will change quickly.

Quick note: I've never been to Chicago so I have no idea what it's like. Yes, I chose the location because of the third movie and it will come into play later on in the story. I do things for a reason. Most of the time.

I'd really appreciate it if you left a review. Please tell me what you think and I'll get back to you! Thank you for reading!

Seer