Disclaimer: Braca, the Peacekeepers, etc, aren't mine. They belong to Rockne O'Bannon, Hensen productions, etc. Making no money, no copyright infringement intended, yada, yada, yada. Song lyrics belong to Evanescence.
Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear
Sealed with lies through so many tears
Miklo Braca sat in his quarters, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. His eyes were fixed on the door, knowing he would have to get up and go through it soon. Resume his post at the side of another insane commanding officer, afraid to make one mistake. Afraid of their temper, the consequences of not pandering to their madness. He hated it. Day after day, watching them destroy what he held most dear. The ideals of the Peacekeepers that he'd been raised with.
He stood, carefully straightening his uniform jacket, making sure there were no signs of his fear, his anger, or anything but a desire to please and to do as he was told. He couldn't let them see it. Sealed inside, it festered, creating a great, knawing dark pit in what was left of his soul. Contaminating it beyond redemption, and he couldn't let it be seen. Couldn't risk loosing everything he'd worked for. All his ambitions.
Lost from within, pursuing the end
I fight for the chance to be lied to again
Jayla Braca leaned against the cold stone of the tunnel, trying to catch her breath. Part of her mind kept alert for those chasing her, while the rest wandered into the past. She tried to remember a time when she wasn't running. When she had the security of knowing that everything was as it should be. It was a distant memory, viewed through the trusting eyes of a child who thought the system in which she had been born was infallible and perfect. That the ideals she was being taught were right and perfect and absolute.
Cold tears trickled down her cheeks, born from grief or from exhaustion, she didn't know, and didn't care. She could hear the trackers again, here them coming through the tunnels. Peacekeepers, like she had been once. She bit her lip, and pressed the button on the remote in her hand before she pushed away from the wall, and began to run again. She couldn't let them catch her. Couldn't let them take away her ambitions, everything she'd worked for over the last fifteen cycles. Not now. She had to fix the system.
You will never be strong enough
You will never be good enough
Miklo stood silently beside his commanding officer, the man's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek indicating his fury at the failure. They had lost six commandos, and the quarry in the rocky tunnels blasted from the mountains of the planet. She could be anywhere on the surface.
"You are sure she couldn't have escaped the planet?" The commodore's voice was low and steely.
"Yes, sir." His voice was crisp, without a hint of his emotions showing through. Wherever their quarry was, she was lost on the surface, or below it. But not above it.
He watched the commodore stalk into his office, waving a hand when Miklo went to follow. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. He could stay, and command his ship. For all that it was worth while being used as a command post for this hunt. Whoever this person was, she was dangerous. She'd not fled, like most renegades, to the Uncharted Territories. She'd hidden herself in the very heart of Peacekeeper territory, using their own technology against them. But for what? What did she hope to accomplish?
Miklo shook his head, shoving away the thoughts. He had other problems to worry about. More mundane problems of running a ship. He slowly walked the command deck, checking on the various officers at their stations, and giving his second fits because he didn't let the poor man compile reports for him.
You were never conceived in love
You will not rise above
Jayla held absolutely still in the thick brush, surrounded now by her loyal company, all as tense and wary as she, ready for the Peacekeepers that would come. More soldiers who had forgotten, or never known, what the Peacekeepers were meant to be. What they had begun as. What she still remembered finding, and nearly getting executed for knowing. If she hadn't vanished. Hadn't fled, hadn't hid, and waited.
Fifteen cycles of patient waiting and slow building, hiding from the Peacekeepers under their very noses. And it wasn't over yet. But they'd come too soon. Been found too soon. They weren't ready. They couldn't be ready. And still they would fight. Fight the lies they'd been told, fight their own comrades, former friends, lovers, siblings. People they'd respected, and liked, and perhaps even loved. If that hadn't been forbidden.
They'll never see
I'll never be
They came, and they fought. Jayla hissed in pain as pulse fire raked down her side, the sickening smell of burnt flesh rising to her nose. She killed the one who'd hurt her, and began a slow retreat. Around her, her people were falling, not ready to fight the battle-hardened commandos. A dwindling force, not strong enough to face them, not good enough to take out a larger force.
"RETREAT!" Her voice rang over the field, and her people heard, some breaking line and running for the mountain forests, the tunnels and caves they knew would protect them. They fell, raked by pulse fire before they could reach the denser trees. Jayla felt each death, cursed each death, as she did her best to protect those around her. They fell back into the denser trees, and more broke line and ran, this time escaping, fleeing to the caves. She followed, praying for a chance. Once there, they could hold out longer. Not forever, but maybe long enough. Just long enough. She felt something hit her in the back, and stumbled, falling. One looked back, and she shook her head. Just keep going. Fall behind, get left behind.
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me
He followed the commodore to the waiting marauder, doing as he was told. They'd caught someone important. They thought it was the leader. Many had died trying to keep her out of the hands of the commandos, and she had tried to kill herself before they caught her. They had her alive, though.
There was silence on the trip down, and Miklo let himself speculate on who the renegade was, what she wanted. Peace? Perhaps. Revolution? More likely. She had troops, trained, though not ready. They had fled to what appeared to be prepared caves. A warren they'd never find the end to, except at the edges of the mountains.
The thoughts were banished as they landed, stepping out into the cool mountain air. A disheveled woman was held upright between two commandos, her brown hair cropped short, and her brown eyes spitting sparks at the commodore and Miklo. He frowned, wondering why she was familiar, why she sparked something in the recesses of his memory.
But through my tears breaks a blinding light
Birthing a dawn to this endless night
"Name." The commodore's voice was quiet, and Jayla lifted her chin, spitting at him in defience. She wouldn't break, wouldn't tell them what they wanted. Her eyes slid to the man next to the commodore, the one wearing captain's bars, and wondered why he looked so familiar. Who was he? Why did she think she should remember him?
The commandos on either side of her each landed a blow when she didn't answer the commodore, and she heard him repeat the command. She forced a sneer to her face, her expression set into rebellious lines. She would not tell him. Not some cold-hearted fool who had forgotten what he was supposed to be. Who wanted to keep the system the way it was. But the captain. Who was he? Did he know what the Peacekeepers were meant to be? Did he care?
Arms outstretched, awaiting me
An open embrace upon a bleeding tree
Miklo heard the commodore's quiet growl as the woman's eyes slid to look over at him again. "Braca, I want her name, and everything you can find out about the force in those caves. Everything, Braca."
"Yes, sir." He looked over at the woman, and gestured to the two commandos to follow him. There had to be someplace around here better suited to an interrogation. Or he would have to take her up to the command carrier, and that he had been expressly ordered not to do. Too great a risk, High Command thought her.
"Who are you?" Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet to be heard. "Where have I seen you before?"
"I am not here to answer your questions, prisoner. You are going to answer mine." He found what he was looking for, and had the commandos bind the woman to the tree, then ordered them to stand guard. Miklo faced her, schooling his expression into a cold mask that he'd learned to perfect over the cycles. "Name."
Rest in me and I'll comfort you
I have lived and I died for you
He watched as her chin came up, her eyes flashing defiance. "Go frell a Scarren." Her lip curled in scorn, and his eyes narrowed. This was not at all what one wanted to hear from a prisoner. He paused, thinking a moment. Perhaps there was a way to get what he wanted.
"Tell me your name, and you will learn mine." He kept his voice low, so the commandos couldn't catch what he was saying. The commodore certainly wouldn't be happy to hear he was willing to give a prisoner information in exchange for like information from her.
Her eyes widened in surprise at his statement. "Jayla Braca."
Miklo blinked in shock. Could she be related to him? Did it matter? He shoved the idea aside, trying to ignore it. He had to get the information the commodore wanted. He couldn't risk loosing his command. He had come too far, and he wanted more. Wanted to feed his ambitions. And if she was someone with a similar genetic heritage, he would let her fall to feed those ambitions.
Abide in me and I vow to you
I will never forsake you
"Captain Miklo Braca." The captain's voice was clipped, and she could see the struggle it took him to put the cold mask back in place. He knew this wasn't right, and yet he kept following it. She was sure of it. But why? What would keep him in a corrupt system he knew was wrong?
"How many in the caves, and how well defended are they?"
She shook her head. "I can't tell you that. I will not let you slaughter them." She forced her voice to stay even, calm. She wanted to rage, to scream, to fight, but she couldn't. Not until she could be sure they would kill her when she did. Her life to keep the others alive. To give them the chance to escape, to continue her work.
They'll never see
I'll never be
Miklo was about to push her for an answer, wondering if she would respond to threats or promises, or perhaps pain, when a knife sprouted from the throat of one of the commandos. Another buried itself to the hilt in the chest of the other. His eyes widened, and he turned, running as he shouted for reinforcements. They were supposed to have secured the area.
He fell as someone tackled him. His face was pressed into the dirt, preventing him from doing more than struggling for breath. There were whoops and shouting around him, and he was pulled to his feet, and a gag shoved into his mouth. They dragged him further into the forest, and he heard the hum and crackle of pulse fire as he was yanked behind a tree. The brown eyes of the woman who had called herself Jayla Braca met his with pain and sorrow in them.
"Goodbye, Miklo." He didn't understand what she meant to do until the cold steel of a blade slashed across his throat, and she let him fall, to drown in his own blood. Dying on a planet, at the hands of a renegade who would do anything to further her ambitions.
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me
Jayla pounded between the trees, the bloody knife left with the captain's - Miklo's - body. She couldn't take him with her, and she couldn't let him go back. Not when she knew he would simply keep hunting her, and others like her, because they were a threat to the system, and to his ambitions. He would have killed her, as she was sure his orders were, to keep in the good graces of the commodore. To stay alive.
And she had killed him instead, to stay alive. She remembered now where she'd seen him. Who he was. Tears blinded her, and she stumbled. Somewhere not too far behind, a commando saw a clear shot, and took it, sending her tumbling to the ground, her mind going black. She'd killed her own brother to live, and now, she was dying. At the hands of the Peacekeepers she'd fought for so long.