AN: Hey everyone! So, I just happened to come back from out of town a bit earlier than I thought I would, and in my good mood, finally decided to split this chapter into two segments. The entire chapter was literally 10,000 words long, and I'm not even finished with Lent's section yet. But, instead of making you guys wait another week, since this part is already done, I decided to upload it now. Besides, who really wants to read a ten-thousand word-long chapter anyway? That's just asking a bit too much of you guys.

I want to thank, Noble Mass, harold1234, Gavoon, and Vertin for their reviews, alerts, and faves, you guys rock!

Anyway, I'll quit rambling now. Enjoy!

Tezuno, Bar Twixt

June 10, 2157

2:00 P.M.

Despite her fervent farewell earlier, Stacey was apparently not too concerned with keeping her pay. When she thought about it, she didn't really have anything to spend her money on, so she had disappeared into the bathroom a few minutes ago, popping in her earphones as she went. Bob would no doubt be less than pleased, but Stacey needed some time to herself, especially since the lunch rush hit.

With nothing to really spend their money on, most of the colonists flocked to the few commercial enterprises available to them on their lunch break, before returning to their duties around three. As it were, Twixt was packed to the bursting with hungry miners, and they could get a bit rowdy at times. Stacey always used the distraction caused by the numerous customer arrivals to sneak away for a bit of peace.

Now, Stacey stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to ignore the laborious sounds of another woman in one of the stalls, examining her own reflection. She'd recently pulled her hair back into a bun, leaving a small lock of auburn hair to hang down beside her left eye. Stacey quite liked the style, and was currently checking to see if she'd made a mistake in her manipulation.

Seeing that she was good to go after a minute of scrutiny, Stacey popped her earphones in for another couple songs, standing at the sink and moving slightly to the beat. When she'd finally finished her jam session, Stacey vaguely registered that the other woman had left the room. The bartender also noticed that the miner had neglected to wash her hands, a thought that sent shivers down Stacey's spine. Willing herself to banish those thoughts, Stacey made her way to the door, and most likely a very peeved Robert.

She was given pause, however, as she heard a buzzing from inside the bowels of her purse. Pulling out the mp3 player (Which, she now admitted to herself, was a phone, not that Stacey ever really used that function) and clicked the answer button, bringing the device up to her mouth. "Hello?"

[Stacey?] was the garbled reply. Although the bad reception was odd, Stacey smiled at the voice of her fiancé, already preparing a verbal lashing.

"Who else would be using my phone Kent? Of course it's me. And don't think you're off the hook for leaving me this morning, I have half a mind to throttle your ass for-"

[Stacey! Now is not the time. I can't believe you can complain about such a silly thing at a time like this! Where are you?]

Now that was confusing. "I'm at the bar, like I always am, in the bathroom specifically. What's going on, why are you so worked up? I mean, I would want to avoid getting yelled at too, but what-"

He cut her off again. [You mean you really don't know?]

"Um, that would be a 'yes', love."

He sounded incredulous. [Stace, we're under attack! How could you possibly not know?]

Stacey grinned. He was obviously trying to distract her from reprimanding him. This was a first for him - he usually owned up to his mistakes or trespasses – but that had never stopped anyone before. "Oh, I see now Kent, yeah, we're definitely under attack," she teased, "Now that you mention it, I can hear the sounds of gunfire and explosions in the background."

[Damn it Stacey, this isn't a joke, or an evasion, you need to listen to me and get out of there!]

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Maribel won't like the competi- what the hell?" she suddenly exclaimed.

[Stacey? What is it?] Kent sounded worried. Stacey was going to have to ask him where he got his acting skills, because he sounded damn convincing.

"Alright, I'll bite, how'd you get everybody out of here so fast?" Stacey said. She'd walked out of the restroom and into the hallway to find the barroom completely empty, chairs and various glasses overturned in some sort of hasty exit. There was a smell in the air, one that the bartender remembered, but couldn't quite place. It made her nose wrinkle slightly.

[What! Everyone's gone?]

Stacey rolled her eyes as she turned away from the vacant room and reclined on the wall, even though he couldn't see her. Or, come to think of it, maybe he could. That would be so like him. Kent wasn't the type who pulled pranks, but she'd seen him do it a couple times. He always went all out for them, and always wanted the best seat in the house when everything came to fruition. "Yeah, didn't I just say that? Listen, I don't know what kind of thing you have planned, but do really think it's a good idea to get on my bad side? You've already annoyed me once today."

[Damn it Stacey, I swear on my life that I'm not trying to trick you! I know you're a little mad at me right now, but god, you have to believe me!]

Alright, that was definitely convincing. Still, if they were under attack, where were the sounds of battle, where were the screaming civilians, and where was the damn colony guard? It just didn't make sense.

It was with this in mind that Stacey walked into the main area about to give her employer a piece of her mind for playing along with her fiancé's tricks, before she stopped cold. It had been faint before, a smell that was all too familiar, yet unrecognizable. Now the bartender knew what had made her nose wrinkle in disgust as she'd left the restroom.

Blood.

The woman had proven quite adept at sending shivers down Stacey's spine. She'd died quickly; a bullet had blown the miner's brains out, along with a portion of her face. Stacey turned away from the gruesome sight with a scowl. "Shit!" she hissed to Kent, "Okay, okay I believe you."

Her fiancé sighed audibly in relief over the phone. [Good. You had me worried there for a moment, Stace. What changed your mind?]

"A dead body," Stacey replied, deadpan. "How'd this happen?"

If her casualty had bothered him, Kent's voice didn't give it away when he answered. [I don't really know. One minute, I'm hanging out, getting a coffee, and the next I'm fighting for my life.]

"So who's attacking us? Terrorists?" Stacey began to pace. She couldn't stand to stay still in this situation.

[No. Well… maybe. See um… the people attacking us may be um… aliens.]

That stopped her. "You're joking, right?"

[Well, unless they're a terrorist group that only recruits people with two sets of eyes, no, I'm not.]

"Great," the bartender groaned. "You know anything else, love? What about Holly?"

[Sorry Stace, I don't know. I'm pinned down at the outpost, I can't leave or they'll see me. I don't even know if anyone else besides you is alive.]

A flash of worry seared through Stacey. "Are you going to be okay?"

[I don't know.]

Stacey smiled slightly, trying to alleviate her fear for her family with humor. "You don't know much, do you?"

Kent didn't laugh. [What are you going to do Stace?] he asked, ignoring her attempt to lighten the mood.

"That's easy," she said casually, "I'm going to look for Holly, and then we're getting the hell out of here. You can tag along if you like." It was ballsy of her, but Stacey had always liked to tackle her problems head on.

[Heh, always optimistic, aren't you? Alright, you've got a deal. You got a plan?]

Stacey grinned impishly to herself. "Nope. I was hoping you would do the honors, love."

Kent let out another hefty sigh, this one in exasperation. [You always did like pushing off your work on other people, didn't you? Fine, I'll try to come up with something from here. In the meantime, do you know if Bob stashed any worthwhile weapons around the bar?]

"Yeah," Stacey said, "I know he bought a pistol to warn off rowdy customers a while back. Hopefully he didn't take it when he vacated the premises."

[Good, go get it. And while you're doing that, switch to your earpiece; I know how you hate holding a phone.]

"True," she said. Stacey moved behind the bar and crouched to rummage through her purse for the device in question. Quickly snapping it to her ear and syncing it to the phone, Stacey said, "Testing. Can you hear me Kent?"

[Loud and clear Stace.]

She didn't bother to answer his affirmation as she began her search, leaving her purse behind, as it didn't contain any other useful items. The bartender was methodical and concise, soon working her way to the other end of the partition, and finding the firearm in a drawer just beneath her boss' favorite whiskey.

"Found it!" she said pulling it from its resting place. It was a Beretta from the look of it, and was a model Stacey was familiar with. She checked the weapon for wear and found little. Bob had kept it in good condition. "I don't even have to field strip this baby to tell that it'll work just fine."

[I wasn't even aware you even knew how to field strip a gun.] Kent didn't sound upset at the information. In fact, Stacey thought he sounded impressed.

"Oh, there are lots of things you don't know about me, Kent," she teased, "Someone's got to keep the romance alive. A bit of mystery always helps."

[I'll bet. So tell me, do you also know if the gun is even loaded?]

Stacey scoffed in mock offense. "What do you take me for, a rookie? Of course I can tell if a gun is loaded. If you must know, this Beretta has a full fifteen bullet magazine."

[Oh good. Can you find any spares?]

"One sec," Stacey said, rummaging through the drawer. She found two extra clips in the back, both of them also full. "Yep, found a couple. And before you ask, no, there are no extra boxes of ammunition. Bob only bought it to scare off drunken idiots, not shoot people."

[Crap," he sighed, "We'll just have to make do then. Still, I'm happy you found the gun, it makes me feel better and I can't even see the damn thing. There's one more thing I need you to grab though; go to the kitchen.]

"Gotcha," she replied. Rising to her feet, Stacey moved to the doorway that separated the two rooms, sliding her new weapon in the back of her pants and the extra ammo into the pockets of her jeans as she went.

The kitchen was far more orderly than the barroom, though, that didn't come as a surprise. Bob had always been a neat freak, and definitely would not have allowed his workspace to be contaminated by clutter. The entire room was clad in stainless steel appliances, giving it a sleek, modern look that had always annoyed the crap out of Stacey.

"So what did you need me to get?" the bartender asked as she pushed her way inside. He probably wanted her to grab food, but she didn't have anything to carry it in. Stacey wondered how he was going to rectify that.

Surprisingly, he said, [You remember that survival gear that Bob always talked about?]

Stacey blinked. "Yeah, that stuff he said he was going to buy and go spend a week in the jungle with?"

[Well, he finally got it. He has it stored in a cabinet next to his office. Grab it; it'll be invaluable, I'm sure of it.]

Stacey nodded, again forgetting for a moment that her fiancé couldn't see her, and headed to said cabinet. Inside, it did indeed contain everything one could want for surviving in a hostile environment, be it in the jungle or during an alien invasion.

The gear consisted of a sturdy looking, beige backpack that no doubt held a canteen and some sort of ration, along with having a large amount of storage space; a survival knife that rested in a worn leather sheath that could be strapped to virtually any accessible joint; and, for some reason, a shoulder holster that looked tailored to the Beretta that now poked into Stacey's back. The cabinet also housed a med-kit, obviously containing the lovely substance aptly named medi-gel.

Stacey picked up the holster first, a confused look on her face. "Why would Bob want something like this?"

[Stacey?]

"Bob has a holster for the Beretta," she elaborated.

[He has a holster, but no extra ammo? How does that even make sense?]

"Are you really complaining? It doesn't have to make sense; we have an unexpected, but useful resource. Let's just utilize it."

[I guess you're right Stace, just irks me is all. …Hey, how are you holding up? I know this kind of thing can be a lot for a person to handle.]

Stacey began to outfit herself with the gear as she spoke. "I'll be fine, Kent, no need to worry," she said, strapping the knife around her right thigh.

[But I am worried. You seem awfully calm about all this. Think about it; you've seen a dead body, everyone's gone off to god knows where, and are being subjected to god knows what, and you are now procuring weapons and gear to help you survive an alien invasion that has pretty much unbalanced your entire life, yet, you take it all in stride, and even find the strength to crack a joke or two. That isn't odd to you?]

Stacey sighed tiredly, stopping for a moment. "Kent, this isn't the first time life has come crashing down around me. I just know how to deal with it better than some people." It was an admission that Stacey had never told anyone before, and it surprised her how easily it had slipped out of her mouth. Potentially deadly circumstances apparently had the ability to loosen one's lips.

Kent was quiet for a moment. Then, [Do you want to talk about it?]

"No." The refusal was cold and cruel, leaving no room for argument. Stacey immediately recoiled from the harshness in her tone, but didn't apologize. There were some things she didn't want to talk about, and those parts of her past were among them, circumstances be damned.

Kent must have been surprised by her merciless tone, as he went quiet once more. Stacey took the time to outfit herself with the holster, slipping the gun under her left armpit and inside it when she finished. The bartender also packed the medi-gel into the backpack, as she had no illusions about remaining uninjured throughout this entire ordeal.

[…Alright Stace, I won't push. I just hope you'll tell me eventually. In the meantime, I've come up with a plan.]

"Good, I'd hate to have to sit here all day waiting for you to think about what we're going to do," Stacey replied, looking through the other contents of the pack. It contained some simple rations that could last for a few days while the wearer scavenged more food from their surroundings, as well as a canteen that had a built in water purifier. "So, what's our COA?"

[First off, I'm gonna need you to get Holly at the school.]

"No problem, I was planning on doing that anyway. What then?"

[I'm going to meet you there, and then we'll head to the transport hub outside the commercial district and 'commandeer' a vehicle.]

"Why don't I do that right now? I'm right here after all. Also, I thought you were pinned down," the bartender asked, slinging the pack over her shoulders.

[No, in both regards. We need to be as quiet as possible when we go and get Holly. I don't want to put her in any unnecessary danger. As for being pinned down, I don't see any movement on my radar, so I'm pretty sure they've gone. Anyway, after we get the car, we'll drive back to the commercial district, scavenge any supplies we can and put them inside. After that, we'll go to the caves, and hide out there for a few weeks until those things leave.]

"Alright, I get your point. Still, why wait for them to leave? I say we go through the caves, get to the comms. tower on the other side, fire it up, and send a distress signal." As she suggested this, Stacey checked if all her gear was attached comfortably, and to see if any of it would slip.

[We could be detected,] Kent protested.

"Or, we could call in a strike and annihilate those alien bastards in one fell swoop," Stacey replied angrily. Seeing that everything was in place, Stacey reclined against the kitchen wall. It was odd to be weighed down by weaponry; it brought back memories of another life. Stacey even caught herself twirling the only lock of hair that hadn't been pulled back into the bun, a mannerism that she had suppressed years ago.

Kent seemed to consider her suggestion for a moment, but then answered, [I don't know Stace. Anyway, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Are you ready to go?]

"Yeah. Should we stay in contact?"

[Of course. I'll call you if anything important comes up. Alright, I'm going to head out. Good luck, Stacey. I love you.]

Stacey smiled worriedly. "Yeah, I love you too. See you soon."

And with that, Stacey straightened up. Quickly, she exited the kitchen and made her way to the side door of the barroom, avoiding the woman's body as she left. Stacey turned one last time and gazed at the empty building that held a large amount of happy memories. The woman glanced at her wrist and saw the metal snake there, happily consuming itself in an endless cycle. "Here we go again," she murmured tiredly.

Stacey looked around herself. It seemed almost laughable; the sun was shining brightly, as if nothing was wrong with the colony. However, Stacey noticed that there was no bustle of people, no noises of life, only wind wafting through blades of grass. Everyone was gone.

Stacey wondered about this. She supposed they could have been abducted by the four-eyed aliens, but how could they do that so quickly, and so quietly? Perhaps they had advanced technology that could allow them to perform such feats, but that was highly improbable. Still, they were aliens. No matter how improbable, anything to that extent was certainly possible.

The bartender pulled herself out of her thoughts and focused on the problem at hand. She needed to formulate a route to the school, one that could get her there undetected. Stacey tried to form a mental image of all the alleyways and deep shadows that could possibly offer sanctuary. Pleased to find that she could plot a good route, Stacey set out for one of the neighboring buildings.

Stacey ducked into the shadows of an alley. Her movements were quick and quiet, her footfalls soft, and subdued. She hadn't used this kind of travel in a very long time, but it was coming back to her. This was a bit more difficult than navigating an urban jungle, but the same principles applied. Stay on your toes, move quickly, always look behind you, and expect to be expected.

Strangely enough, Stacey felt little fear. In actuality, she was more nervous than fearful, although, that came as no surprise. In the past Stacey had a tight rein on such emotions, and was even confident in her ability to handle herself, although, after eight years…

Stacey banished that thought. Pessimism had no place in survival.

Her creeping mode of movement carried Stacey through the colony slowly. Although she moved faster than she normally did, the endless amount of detours and freezes when she heard an unsettling noise took its toll on the amount of time it would take to reach the school. She had already been on the move for twenty minutes, and was barely a third of the way to her destination.

Then Stacey stopped. Looking from her secluded position, Stacey could see figures moving about in the distance. They were humanoid, that was for sure, but human? That she couldn't tell. It was highly improbable that they were. Stacey had only stumbled upon them, and she wasn't even looking. It was far more likely they were those aliens. Stacey saw that they were in the middle of her intended route and scowled. Now she would have to take another detour.

It was needless to say that Stacey was worried. Holly was a smart girl, but was too sweet and innocent to have any real fight in her. If she was found, the little girl would no doubt be subjected to a similar fate as that of other colonists, though, what that was, Stacey had no clue. Speed was imperative at this point, and the bartender quickened her pace.

Once more, Stacey was given pause as she passed between more residencies, this time in answer to her buzzing earpiece. Quickly, Stacey crouched low to the ground and pressed the answer button. "Kent?" she hissed.

What she heard over the line didn't bode well. Instead of a reply, Stacey was greeted by sounds of exertion and the rattle of gunfire. "Kent!" she tried again.

More heavy breathing, then: [I'm sorry Stacey… they saw me,] her fiancé huffed.

"So why are you calling me? Get the hell out of there you idiot!"

[They've… got me cornered… I can't… run away anymore.] Kent replied in between breaths. [I'm really sorry, love.]

"What are you talking about? Stop apologizing, just shut up and survive!" Stacey's worry carried through her voice and she knew it. She didn't care. Now was not the time to hide her emotions.

[It's all over for me… I… they shot me… so much blood…] His voice was breathy, and weak. Hearing him like that almost made Stacey crack. He was always the strong one. She allowed herself to be weak around him, not the other way around.

"Don't say that dammit! You are not going to die, that's an order."

Kent gave a bitter laugh. [I… never was… good at following orders.]

"Bastard…" she said weakly. Kent would never lie to her, not about this. She didn't want to accept it, wanted it to be a dream. But Stacey was very much awake.

[Stacey… you need to listen to me…]

Stacey didn't trust herself to speak, not right now. She wanted to just lie down and drift away, let the aliens do what they will, and just forget.

[I need you… to look after… Holly. You can't… just shut down… like I know you want to. She needs you. Our daughter… needs you.]

"Our daughter needs us. If you think I'm going to just let you slip away, you've got another thing coming!" The words sounded stronger than she actually felt. But she knew if there was any chance that she could keep some semblance of this life, Stacey knew she would fight tooth and nail.

What happened next shattered any hope of that.

There was no warning or ceremony. No goodbyes or I-love-yous. Just one, loud crack, and then a dial tone.

Stacey didn't cry. In fact, Stacey didn't move at all. She sat there uncomprehendingly for a few moments. She didn't blink, didn't fidget, didn't even think. Just sat there, doing nothing at all. It was strange; her mind was completely empty. What had just happened wasn't being relieved, rehashed, or even remembered. It was just blank.

Suddenly, she moved, standing in an almost robotic fashion. The vessel that was once Stacey Ash moved quietly through the colony toward her destination with a blank face. She still stuck to the shadows, but her movements were stiff, and disjointed, although, she didn't seem to mind at all.

When she finally reached the school, it seemed to be crawling with aliens, although that seemed a silly word to use. They were yellow skinned, and had two pairs of eyes, four onyx black portals that resided on their faces. Tubular constructs led down from a nose that looked, for lack of any other kind of description, disgusting, into the alien's armor, although where they went from there was not discernible. There were about five of them in the area, all armed with what could be called the equivalent of an assault rifle. Not that Stacey's body really cared.

Still with stiff, robotic movements, the vessel slinked over to one of the school's side doors, which was guarded by a yellow four-eyed thing. Stacey's expression didn't change even when she snuck up behind the unsuspecting alien and slit his throat. If she had been aware, she might have marveled at the fact that slitting an alien's neck killed it, perhaps noting that cutting an enemy's carotid arteries would kill them regardless of race. As she was, Stacey's body didn't even pay attention to the blood now staining her hands, let alone the method she'd used to obtain it.

Instead, the vessel merely walked inside the building, although, what she would do afterwards was a complete mystery.

AN: That's it for now. Hopefully Lent's part will be up real soon for you guys, and don't worry, it won't take a week. Thanks for reading, and see you soon!