Like I said before, finally got into gear and started writing out this story. It's a collab with GreyJedi and we've been working on this for quite a while now. This could be viewed as a continuation of "Bloodlust," however it's not entirely necessary to read that one first.
Kaen, Cayden and Jance belong solely to us . The knives, when they come more into the story, belong solely to me. Everyone and everything else belongs to Naughty Dog.
Five years later
Erol wandered nonchalantly down the hallway. He had nowhere to be, and nothing to do. Quick footsteps sounded behind him and a female voice shouted out to him.
"Commander!"
He turned around looking bored and crossed his arms over his chest saying a rather irritable, "What?"
It was Ashelin, smirking wider than Erol had ever seen before. "Father's sent me with a message. It's urgent."
"Really?" For some reason, he doubted it, things were rarely urgent. "And this would be?" he asked raising an eyebrow.
"Father has assigned you to work on a 'special' project with Kaen," Ashelin replied, looking very much like she knew something Erol didn't.
For a moment Erol said nothing, his brain kept trying to make sure he had heard and understood Ashelin correctly. "I'm working with who?"
Ashelin said nothing for a moment, giving Erol a teasing grin, "Kaen. I would have thought you'd know who-"
"I know who Kaen is!" Erol snapped, cutting Ashelin off abruptly. "I don't get it though, why am I working with a convict?"
Ashelin shrugged, "Father said it was a very special and important project, and he can't afford any screw-ups," a sly expression flickered over the female guard's features for a brief second. "So why he put you in charge-" she was interrupted for a second time.
"Enough with the smart comments just tell me where I've got to go meet this new 'partner' of mine," the commander said, making air quotes around the word partner.
"The detention center,"
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it? You're actually capable of giving your commander information without being smart," Erol smirked, giving Ashelin a condescending look.
She glared at him, "You will never be my commander Erol, never. I take orders from just one person,"
"And would that be your father, or someone else? I seem to remember a certain brown-haired deserter by the name of Torn," he stopped there, enjoying the sight of the woman in front of him bristling with anger. She raised a finger threateningly to him, as though daring him to go further. Erol was never one to back down from any kind of challenge, "Yes, that's what I thought. You're rather on the fence aren't you? What's the matter Ashelin, traitor got your tongue?" Erol found that his words had quite the desired effect; Ashelin spun angrily on her heel and began to walk stiffly away, obviously seething. The commander turned calmly back around, and paused before beginning to head off in the direction of the detention center muttering "A convict in the detention center, how very original."
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Kaen ran her fingers through her hair, glaring spitefully at the calikite knife lying on the table. The knife hadn't done anything wrong – no surprise there – but it was a perfectly convenient scapegoat for her frustration. Only a few hours ago had she received a message from the Baron telling her that she would soon have a new 'co-worker', though it was obvious she didn't need one. From what the message said, the man would be taking over the entire operation. Or so they thought.
"If Praxis thinks for a minute that he can just go and replace me without so much as a fight, he's lost it," Kaen snapped at the knife. "I don't care if this mystery guy turns out to be the Commander himself! I run the Dark Warrior Program – always have and always will!" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Although I do have to give the man credit for trying to ruin my life. I didn't think he had it in him, pathetic wimp that he is."
The knife stayed silent, as knives tend to do. Still, Kaen paused to see the blade's reaction to her ranting. Of course she knew it wouldn't answer, but it was nice to hope for response. The whole situation scared her. Losing her job as head of the Dark Warrior Program would be nothing less than a blow to the gut. Listening to tortured screams helped chase away memories preferably forgotten.
She absently scratched at the back of her hand, razor sharp calikite nails digging into her flesh. Drops of blood slid downwards, leaving little red rivers in their wake. "Damn," she swore, placing the cuts to her lips and sucking the wound clean, trying to keep the liquid from flowing too far down her arm. Blood didn't usually trouble her, but if so much as a drop touched her actual flesh…
A banging sound filled the small room, amplified ten fold by the metal walls. Someone had come to call, which Kaen knew to never be a good sign. Muttering several more curse words, she crossed the room to face her supposed successor.
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Erol hadn't expected this. Hadn't prepared himself for the door to be opened by a woman, most likely a few years younger than him, a woman sucking blood off the back of her hand. It hadn't crossed his mind that the mysterious 'Kaen' might not have actually been the male thug he was expecting. Perhaps he'd gotten the wrong cell…
"Who the hell are you?" the woman snapped, still sucking at the wound. "And what do you want?"
Erol felt slightly taken aback by the greeting, it was definitely not something he was used to. "I'm looking for Kaen," he said, sneering as he said the name.
"No duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "If you were looking for anyone else you wouldn't be here." She peered over his shoulder. "So where's my replacement?"
"Are you referring to the Dark Warrior Program?" Erol asked, hoping that this woman might know what he was talking about, "That's why I'm here."
"No," she said sarcastically, "I have no idea what the Dark Warrior Program is. I only run the thing."
"So, I'm guessing you're Kaen then?" Erol asked in a rather offhand manner.
"That would be correct. Which brings me to the question, who are you? It'll be hard working together if I can only call you 'You' or 'Idiot' or 'Moron' or whatever." She smirked. "I have so far found people react better to their actual name."
Erol rolled his eyes. The woman was insufferable already.
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Kaen felt her blood begin to boil. What was this man's problem? Was it that hard to answer the question of 'what's your name'? But he posed no physical threat – he was one of the skinniest, wimpiest people Kaen was sure she had ever seen. One quick stab would do the job, should he grow too tiresome.
"Planning on answering my question?"
He sighed, "Erol."
Pathetic name too. "Very nice." Her face hardened. "But enough pleasantries. It's time to get down to business.
"First off, no matter what the Baron says, I still control this operation. The Dark Warrior Program is obviously out of your league. Second," Kaen stepped forward and whipped out a knife, which she placed delicately to Erol's throat, "if I do not like you, I will kill you. Got it?"
He gave her a bored look, "Good for you."
Her eyes narrowed, "Don't make me do it sooner rather than later, you'll probably serve a purpose in the end."
"Not to mention you'll be locked back up for a very long time. People who kill the commander of the Krimzon Guard tend to have that happen to them."
"Commander?"
He rolled his eyes, "You didn't honestly think I was just some low level officer, did you?"
"Pathetic enough to be."
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Erol clenched his teeth, Kaen was defiantly trying his patience. "Why don't you fill me in on this 'project' of yours?" he said, phrasing it like a question, but making sure it was anything but.
Kaen smirked, "Alrighty then, let's see how competent the commander of the Krimzon Guard truly is."
Erol twitched.
She sheathed her knife and beckoned him to follow her, "Come on then."
He hesitated for a split second before following her into the cell, "Cozy." He commented blandly.
She nodded, "Been my home since I was twelve. A nice change from my original."
Erol stopped and raised an eyebrow, wondering what in the world she could be talking about. In his experience, most prisoners hated and resented their cells; her behaviour was odd to say the least.
She smiled at him, "You haven't read my files, have you?"
He smirked, "Haven't had the chance," he replied, making a mental note to do so once he got off duty.
"So, here's the blueprints for the machine, but you'll probably find them useless. Mostly, it's just pressing a big button," she paused then added, "Oh, and listening to the prisoners scream."
Erol nodded vaguely, "I can do that, quite easily."
She clapped sarcastically, "Good for you, you obviously graduated from kindergarten."
He rolled his eyes, "Something about you suggests that you didn't."
She inspected her nails, "Never had the chance, too busy being tortured."
He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. And he had to fight against the sudden urge to leave and go read her files regardless of what he was supposed to be doing.
There was a long awkward silence.
After about five minutes Kaen finally said, "If you don't mind, I'd like if you'd leave." She shoved Erol roughly out the door. "See you tomorrow."
"Stupid woman," Erol muttered as he turned to leave.
"Takes one to know one," she snapped back, slamming the door.
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Once alone again, Kaen turned back to her knife. It was still sitting there, quiet, and unmoving. For some reason, she had a sudden desire to chuck it at the wall, but she suppressed the urge. Instead she amused herself with images of murdering the commander.
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Erol closed the door to his quarters, locking it behind him. He shivered once, adjusting to the sudden temperature drop, before walking over to his computer and opening up a search of the KG database. He typed in 'Kean' and got no results. Scowling at the monitor, he reversed the 'a' and the 'e'. One file popped up. It was a high security file, requiring the highest clearance level. Erol of course had that. Typing in his access code and password, he waited for the file to load. It took forever. Two hundred and thirty-three pages, with one more security login on the last twenty-five, later, he had it. The complete file consisted of one hundred and thirty-three pages of the actual report with the remaining hundred all high quality photos. He opened the first page of the report. This was going to take a really long time.
Two hours later he finally got to the first page of the high security images. He was already in shock. How could a twelve year old have so brutally massacred her own family? The last twenty-five photos were of the victims. He was almost afraid to look. Erol scrolled down slowly, not completely sure what to expect. First was Kaen, soaked in blood, screaming and clawing at her arms. She was followed by her two younger brothers, both aged three; two unrecognizable bloody masses slumped against the wall. Her mother was next, as mutilated as her two sons. And last, last was Kaen's father, Faine. Erol stared at the face of the man soaking in his own blood, his features perfectly preserved.
"It's like she wanted the focus on him," Erol muttered, zooming in closer on the picture. He froze. He knew that face. Erol's expression became a twisted snarl and he hurriedly closed all of the windows he'd opened.
He stood up as the computer powered down, he knew he'd have to confront her about his findings tomorrow.