Keiko entered the empty apartment. It wasn't much but it was a start.
Her start.
Her…new home until she figured things out.
The silence broken only by sounds from the hallway. A couple argued about…children? She shook her head. The news reported missing, kidnapped, and runaway children five days out of the week and they wanted more children? It boggled her mind.
Placing the pack on the floor, she sat down and relaxed. Two rooms, half a bathroom, and a sorry excuse of a kitchen and yet it was far more hospitable than anything else had been. Almost everything. She remembered the farm.
For the next two weeks, she was barely at the apartment. Between the strip club, the factory, and finding a job more suitable for her skill set, Keiko only used the shower, the stove top, and the closet. She snagged a chair from street side, made a table and foot stool out of a crate, and snagged a few books from the food drive that kept her from starving.
Creativity and thriftiness kept her mind occupied. Discovering that she could smile almost daily made her realize that Earth wasn't hopeless after all. She laughed for the first time in a long time, and just the day before she woke up after having a pleasant dream instead of a nightmare.
" You're looking good, who's the handsome fellow?" Cyrina asked her during work after noticing her humming.
Keiko shrugged. " I just feel good." Truth be told, she felt stable.
Stability made her feel safe.
Feeling safe made her realize just how lucky she was.
" Uh huh, and who's the handsome fellow?"
" There is no handsome fellow."
" There is always a handsome fellow,"
Keiko rolled her eyes. She didn't bother explaining it. Cyrina had an easy life – plush. Discovering who she was outside the Spartan life was like being reborn. " I am spending time realizing a lot of new things…like the fact I can cook meat just fine but forbid I try making vegetables…or even that I love heels even though they make my feet hurt…"
Cyrina laughed.
" Go ahead, laugh," She leaned toward the woman that refused to quit digging into her life. " But I am perfectly fine without a 'handsome fellow' and other distractions in my life." In fact she was quite content having a work-centric life. It made her feel like she had a sense of purpose.
The woman lifted a box off the line and placed it on a stack. " Sure, sure…just like you have crap furniture-"
Keiko leaned toward her, the woman cringing at her intense stare. " It's MY crap furniture, even if it is crap furniture," Returning to her position, she acted as if nothing happened.
Cyrina didn't push the issue. Instead of going straight home to clean up and then go out, Keiko stayed in. A knock at her door disturbed her from her book, a crappy little romance novel. She set it down and moved to the door.
" Keiko Wong?" A delivery man on the other side of the door asked her.
She frowned. " It's Mynn now, but yes. What do you want?" She searched for an ONI badge but saw none. She then searched for anything that had UNSC on it. Nothing there either. He didn't appear to have any formal or informal kind of training. He looked just like a civilian.
He offered her a package. " Just need your signature here," He thrust a clipboard at her.
She took the pen and scribbled across the line.
" It has to be legible-"
" You want to get rid of it or not?" She demanded of him in a highly critical tone.
He swallowed hard and tucked the clipboard under his arm. " Have a nice day, Ms Wong," He tipped his hat to her and left.
She looked down at the package. " And who would be sending me shit?" She asked herself before eyeing it up. The box looked like any other box. Giving it a sniff, she frowned. No odd smells either. Nothing rattled or clinked or moved. There was no heavy weight to it. Not even the sloshing of liquid.
" Okay…ONI, what did you send me?"
Leaivng it on the ground, she moved for her knife, always close by. Sliding it from above the door, she leaned over the package. Well she was either going to die or she was going to be unpleasantly surprised.
Cutting the top open, she expected something to go boom. Or tick. Or start ticking.
None of that happened. Opening the box further, she saw one little sheet of paper. On it was a name, time, and proposition. If she said yes, all she had to do was show up.
Her suspicion mounted. Was ONI trying to lure her in? Trap her in cryo again?
She could check it out. It was right up her alley of work, and she was familiar with a ship. It would be a dose of familiarity with a mixture of freedom.
Still uncertain about it, Keiko burned the box and sheet. She realized someone had followed her home from the strip club after an early morning shift. Since that day was a double day, with the factory shift starting less than an hour later, she didn't stop to figure out who it was. She waited till the end of the factory shift and lounged around outside.
If it was ONI, they would make themselves known in the most smug manner possible. If it was someone else, she wanted to know how they knew she'd be perfect for the position. She hadn't used her real name yet in the city, not for the apartment, not for her jobs. Fortunately no one bothered to dig deeper than her surface story.
She hated and didn't want anything to do with her family, which wasn't a lie, and she was doing everything in her power to survive.
The shadow shifted some, enough to catch her notice.
She stalked toward it, two hands roughly grabbing her and throwing her into the wall. The barrel of a gun was pressed underneath her chin. " Keiko Wong?" A gravelly voice asked.
" Like to keep your life, remove the weapon," The only reason she hadn't attacked yet was out of curiosity.
A minute passed, turned into two before it was lowered.
The man stepped into the street light. He looked to be roughly near Spike's age, well built, and had a scar running the length of his arm. It looked to be a burn scar but she couldn't tell. He wore combat boots beneath his pants. There was nothing really distinguishable about him. Perhaps that was the point.
" You know who I am, who the hell are you?" She demanded, straightening out her well worn flannel shirt.
He held out his hand. " The name is Piers."
" And you know about me how?" She asked, dismissing the hand.
He let it drop back to his side. " Let's just say…we know,"
So her father probably had something to do with it then. " Look, I don't need nor want my father's help," She started back toward the street.
" Whoever said this had anything to do with your father?" Piers called after her.
She stopped.
" If you are interested, I'd suggest meeting me at the merchant vessel docks at the arranged time,"
He left in the opposite end. She knew that it would eat at her if she didn't show up. Cursing him, she wanted to know how he knew about her. And what he knew. She wouldn't know unless she went.
" Damn you," She muttered in contempt. Just when she was getting settled in.
