Disclaimer: We owneth not.

Collab between eight 0f hearts and temarcia. Chapters are by both of us.


The first thing he noticed was a dull pain.

It didn't bother him much.

Pilot couldn't tell how many times he'd gotten his head hurt. Things like that seemed to happen to him on a regular basis.

The unpleasant feeling was familiar. Much more disturbing was another feeling – the strange sensation of being touched. It made him open his eyes wide.

What he saw was a man in a gas mask methodically checking his pockets. Puzzled by this unusual scene, Pilot didn't say a word. He glanced at the guy. Then he closed his eyes. When he opened them once more, the man still stood before him. It wasn't Pilot's imagination. The stranger definitely existed. He wore some kind of helmet that gave him an appearance of an armadillo.

"Hey," a deep voice came from the other side of the tiny room. "The green one is awake!"

Pilot wasn't able to recognise that voice, but it certainly didn't belong to the Captain. It didn't sound like someone he knew... and it definitely didn't sound friendly.

"Go on and ask him about the stuff we found on him." Another unfamiliar voice could be heard. This one sounded almost smug. "There was... let's see... plasticine, a shoestring, some paper clips, a deflated balloon, and a stone. Does he think he's MacGyver or something?"

The two burst into rather nasty laughter. Pilot had no idea what was so funny. That might be because he had never heard of MacGyver before. However, he didn't feel like laughing for more than that reason.

First of all, these fellows shouldn't have touched his things without permission. Secondly, they were wasting Pilot's time with this boobery. Captain wasn't going to wait for the "trust" forever. Last but not least, they called his magical Thundererstone a mere stone. That was pure ignorance!

"I found something more," said the armadillo-helmet man, who had been silent until now. Pilot looked at him and froze in terror. That dirty shoe had found the two most precious artefacts that were kept hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket. The unworthy hand held the holy picture and the reminder, as if those treasures meant absolutely nothing. It was a despicable act of profanation!

"This time it's something interesting," the guy continued. "Some kind of device. This may be useful. It looks like part of a neural interface."

The armadillo man was about to show his find to the others when Pilot protested.

"That is my blue tiara!"

After a moment of awkward silence, the trio of strangers broke into laughter. They sounded like a bunch of hyenas. That only made Pilot more angry.

"It's mine! Give that back!" he shouted, and tried to reach out his hand. That was when he found out that he was unable to do so. His arms were tied to a rusted hot water pipe in the corner of the room. It was impossible to move any farther from there. Panicked, he looked around the place. He realised that Snippy was beside him. The lazy cat seemed to be sleeping. How could he sleep in these circumstances?

Pilot struggled desperately, driven by sudden urge to freed himself. Mr Snippy had probably felt the same way when he had been attached to the bow of their ship, dressed like a little mermaid. No wonder he had been so mad. Now, Pilot was having a similar experience.

"Want it back?" the thief asked, and started to wave the tiara in Pilot's face, mocking. "Then take it. What's the matter? You can't? That's what I thought."

"Let me go, you shoe! I have no time for this! I'm in a middle of very important mission!"

"Let's gag him. He's annoying," the deep-voiced guy suggested, apparently getting tired.

"No. Let him speak," ordered the armadillo man, who seemed to be in charge. "Who knows what we can learn from our little guest."

Pilot found it surprising that he was being called "little" by someone so short.

"Well?" the small guy eyed him, apparently expecting some story. "Tell us about your mission," he added, when he didn't receive the desired information.

"I refuse!" Pilot said stiffly. He was still uncomfortable with the thought of being kept here against his will. However, the unexpected question about his mission made him feel more confident. After all, he was a soldier of the most glorious army in the world. He had nothing to fear. Sooner or later, everything would end up well.

"You are not authorised for the details of that mission," he added. "Captain's orders are for Captain's minions' ears only!"

Pilot did not remember the last time when he had been so proud. It might have been that day when Captain approved his flying machine made of sticks and feathers. Anyway, to prove himself as a faithful minion in front of the leader – that was the easy way. The hardest challenge involved doing the right thing, even though Captain would never know.

For a moment, Pilot felt almost happy. But the very next feeling was a painful one. He stopped breathing as he was hit in the chest with a butt stock of the machine gun. As he finally took a breath, it hurt. Talking would probably hurt as well.

"Tell me about your mission," the cold voice repeated slowly. The little armadillo definitely wasn't a nice kind of guy.

Pilot remained silent, not willing to talk to that bully. He closed his eyes, prepared for another hit that was sure to come. However, that didn't happen.

"We were looking for supplies."

Pilot instantly recognised who spoke. It was Mr Snippy. He had woken up at last.

"That was an ordinary mission," the jiggly slug continued. "You're wasting your time asking him questions. He doesn't know anything. He's nutty as a fruitcake."

"Hey!" Pilot was about to protest, but he sounded rather pathetic.

Why does Snippy have to be so mean? Maybe he didn't sleep well?

"Yeah, he looks like one of those freaks," the smug-voiced man piped up. "Who else would keep all of this junk?"

Hearing him made Pilot furious again.

"Those are magical items, you stupid skunk!" he cried, and then turned to face the evil leader. "Hands off of my tiara and the icon, or…"

"Or what?" he was cut off.

The man seemed to be sneering behind his mask.

"Don't let him provoke you," Snippy whispered, but it was far too late for that.

"Or you're gonna be cursed!" Pilot began uttering threats. Every time Snipster had acted insolently, he used to do the same thing. "You shall see the wrath of God! You shall see Hell, and darkness, and sorrow! Beware the Almighty Captain, because he is the Alpha and the Omega! He will punish you for your sins!"

That sinister armadillo didn't look as terrified as Pilot thought he should be.

"So, I'll be punished by the one you called 'Captain'?" the guy asked, and showed the photo to Pilot – the same one he had taken from him earlier. It was the holy picture, with the word "Messiah" written on it. "Is this what he looks like?"

Pilot nodded in assent.

Then, the most horrible of all horrible things happened.

The man tore up the photo.


The sound Pilot made was not human.

Snippy closed his eyes and tried to tune out the cacophony of Pilot's wails and threats, the sniggers and taunts from their captors, and the annoying drip-drip-drip of the water pipe next to his head. It didn't help that he had a splitting headache from where he'd been hit over the head with... whatever they'd hit him over the head with.

"Snippy! Snippy!" Pilot screeched into his ear, and Snippy slowly turned his head to look at him.

"What?"

"This is not the time to take a nap!" Pilot informed him angrily. He jerked his head towards the wastelanders, who were standing over the two of them, radiating smug amusement. "These bumtrinkets have blasphemed against Captain! They-"

"Amusing as this is, I think we've heard just about enough from you," the leader of the three cut in cheerfully. "So I suggest you shut your mouth before we do something drastic, like staple your lips together."

"Shhh, Pilot," Snippy murmured, and thankfully, the pilot fell silent, apparently still a little shellshocked from the horror of witnessing Captain's glorious image being torn in two.

"What do you want?" Snippy asked wearily, looking up at them. "We don't have any supplies for you. You've already taken my gun."

"That's a nice jacket."

Snippy cringed mentally. "Take the jacket, then," he said through gritted teeth. "Then let us go."

"Nah, I don't think we'll be doing that," the man replied, still sounding disarmingly friendly. "Where've you been getting your supplies from?"

Pilot bumped Snippy with his elbow and slurred something along the lines of "Don't tell him anything!"

Snippy ignored him. "Nowhere special. Just scavenging in the rubbish and the old supermarkets. We don't have any hidden stashes of food, if that's what you were thinking."

"Hm." The man tilted his head. "So you're pretty useless then. What's to stop me shooting you right now?"

His henchman stepped forward and pointed his gun at Snippy's face. The sniper swallowed, feeling his heart rate jump to about three times faster.

"Because..." he began slowly, racking his brains for an answer. All he could come up with was a rather uncreative: "...you have no good reason to kill us?"

The man scoffed. "Ain't got no reason to keep you alive, either. The less people there are in this god-forsaken wasteland, the more food there is for the rest of us." To Snippy's great relief, he gestured for his friend to lower the weapon.

"But today's your lucky day. Have you ever been to the Supabarn on the East side of the city?"

Zee Barn of Supa, as Captain called it. He'd once ordered Snippy to go there and fetch him some 'awesomesauce'. Snippy had refused. The place was perilously close to where one of the bombs had fallen, and radiation levels were sky high. It also seemed to be a source of attraction for the worst of the mutated beasts that roamed the wasteland.

Snippy nodded slowly. "It's a hellhole. Mutants everywhere."

"Exactly." Though he couldn't tell behind the helmet, Snippy got the impression the man was grinning insanely. "That's why we need someone to act as monster bait."

Oh.

Oh.

Snippy grimaced. "Look," he offered a touch frantically, "Why don't you let us go and we'll help you find supplies somewhere else-"

He broke off when the guy kicked him hard in the chest, catching him by surprise and winding him rather badly.

"Stop running your tongue for a minute," the man said calmly while Snippy coughed and spluttered. "I've already established that we're not gonna let you go. You and your deranged friend here will provide a nice luncheon to distract the monsters while we sneak in, get the supplies, and sneak back out. That's what's going to happen; no ifs, buts or ands about it."

Snippy stared up at him.

Pilot seemed to find his voice at that moment. "You won't get away with this!" he screeched. "Just you wait – the Captain will descend upon you in all his magnificence and you will be incinerated by the sheer awesomeness of his presence! You foot-faced munchfumbles! You corn-headed anklepuffs!"

The man chuckled and reached down to pat Pilot condescendingly on the head. "Whatever you say, you deluded little turd," he said, then turned and strode out of the room, clicking his fingers for his two thugs to follow him out.

The door slammed behind them, the sound of a bolt sliding shut following shortly after.

"Twerpbum faceclots! Dip-knuckled nitloafs! Numb-beef shoeheads!" Pilot continued to shout.

Snippy closed his eyes again, feeling a headache forming. Okay. This isn't good. He snorted. Understatement of the century. We have to get out of here.

"Pilot," he interrupted when the other man paused for breath. "Impressive as your menagerie of insults is, it's distracting me from thinking of a way out of here."

"Don't worry, Mr Snippy, Captain will save us," Pilot said confidently. "He will annihilate the little armadillo man!"

Snippy blinked. "Armadillo...? ...ah.I suppose he did kind of look like one."

"And his friends, Smugvoice and Deepvoice, will burn along with him," Pilot continued. "All we have to do is wait for Captain."

Snippy shook his head. He looked around the room – wherever they were, it was decidedly more intact than most of the other buildings in the city. The walls were solid and the door didn't look like it could be broken down, not without a battering ram of some sort.

He tugged at his bonds. There was a hot water pipe running across the length of the room and leading up to the ceiling. His hands were tied behind his back, looped around the pipe and then connected to Pilot's bonds – effectively tying the two of them together, with the pipe in the middle.

Snippy yanked at the bindings – they were made of some sort of thick plastic cord, and didn't seem like they'd break any time soon.

Snippy tugged again. The cords held, but the water pipe rattled – looking up, he saw that it was quite rusted. He pulled on the ropes again, and the pipe creaked alarmingly and shifted about a centimetre.

"Ouch! What are you doing, slug?" Pilot asked.

"Help me try to break this pipe," Snippy ordered.

Pilot made a derisive sort of farting noise with his mouth. "Pfahhh! I only take orders from Captain."

Snippy gritted his teeth. Pilot in one of his moods was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. "Look, Pilot, Captain isn't coming to help us."

"Blasphemy!"

"He thinks we're out getting him trust, remember?" Snippy prompted.

"Nonsense! Captain is omniscient. He knows all things!"

Snippy sighed. "Look," he said, humouring him, "You don't want Captain to have to keep rescuing you all the time. You need to show him that you're able to take care of yourself. Escaping without his help would impress him."

Pilot was silent a moment, apparently mulling this over.

"Okay," he said finally. "But you'd better not be lying to me, you jiggly slug, or I'll steal your toenails and hide them where you'll never find them again."

Snippy just rolled his eyes, used to Pilot's outlandish threats. "When I say pull, pull on the ropes- ow!" He broke off as Pilot yanked hard, cinching the cords painfully tight around his wrists. "When I say pull, Pilot."

"It's jiggling! It's jiggling!" Pilot cried excitedly. "It's jiggling like a slug!" He happily continued to tug, the pipe wobbling more and more with each pull. Snippy sighed and resigned himself to having the circulation in his hands cut off.

Finally, with a last mighty wrench, the pipe let out an ominous groan and pulled away from the wall. A shower of murky water and clumps of plaster rained down on them.

"Yesss!" Pilot cheered. He tried to clamber to his feet, but failed – the pipe may have been out of the equation, but he was still tied back-to-back with Snippy.

"Okay," Snippy said. Things were going reasonably well now. "Lean against my back and stand up, then help me up."

Apparently Pilot only heard the first part of his instruction, for he used Snippy as a support to get up, but then tried to bound over to the door, resulting in him falling over again and Snippy being dragged sideways.

"Didn't you listen to a word I said?" Snippy grumbled. He tried to shift into a better position. "This time, take it slowly. Coordination, remember? Like dancing."

"Stop bossing me around," Pilot muttered churlishly. He got to his feet again, bent backwards at an awkward angle, as Snippy was still on the ground. "Hurry up!"

"Yeah, yeah." With a bit of uncomfortable contortion, Snippy managed to stumble to his feet. The two of them wobbled precariously for a moment before regaining balance.

"Right! Come on then!" Pilot declared, making for the door. Snippy staggered backwards, bumping into Pilot's back when he finally stopped.

"Stop it!" Snippy snapped. "We have to work together, otherwise we'll just end up rolling around on the floor like idiots."

Pilot didn't reply, which Snippy took as an invitation to keep talking. "I'm going to walk forwards now," he said. "That means you walk backwards, okay?"

"I'm not stupid," Pilot grumbled, which Snippy personally thought was hilarious. He didn't comment, however, instead taking a few slow steps forward. Pilot walked behind him without any mishaps.

Snippy looked around the room. They had no weapons, no idea what lay beyond this room, and movement was incredibly difficult. Looking up, he spied an air vent a little way up one of the walls. Now that was promising, if only they could find a way to get through it.


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