Chapter 9

Burakkuson struggled and protested the whole way down the hall into his room, where the door slammed open a split second before he reached it, then slammed shut of its own accord while he threw her onto the desk. She scrambled, reaching instinctively for her weapons that he had so thoughtfully relived her of. She glared at him, flustered and still reeling from her memories. He sat on the bed, regarding her swaying, wary figure thoughtfully.

"Why did you fight for me? I thought you were angry and ignoring me. I thought you would be sitting in your hiding place laughing at my predicament. Why did you help me?" she stiffened, insulted.

"Of course I helped you! I swore I would, didn't I?

"Yes, but weren't you angry with me?" he said with a smirk. She sniffed and looked away. "I can't even think of a reason why I would be," she said with a small, self satisfied grin. He frowned, not liking her implication that there was nothing to remember. It stung his manly pride. He went back to the original question. "Why did you fight for me? Why did you risk exposure for my sake?" She grew still, staring off at the sunrise coming in through the small window. She was suddenly very tired. She just wanted to go lie down in her bed and sleep for three days. But she knew she would have no peace if she didn't give him what he wanted. "Well," she said quietly, "there is no risk of exposure from outside this ship, seeing as how all enemy witnesses are dead."

"That is true," he nodded, acceding to that fact. "But, don't evade my questions. Tell me why you fought for me!" he slammed his hands on the desk on either side of her hips. She glared at him. "I have no reason or need to tell you such things!" he just looked at her. "It is my business when you freeze up in battle like that. I have to know why you do it so I can get you to snap out of it, or be cured." She started and gazed up at him in shock. Does he know what he is saying?... no, she laughed softly, of course he had no idea. She looked at him, vestiges of that pain and sorrow he had seen earlier lurking in the back of her eyes.

"You can't cure me," she whispered. "No one can. Not even myself." The shadows were gathering around her body again, like a shield against his questions.

"No one can cure the effect that memories and past occurrences have on someone. What is affecting me is in my past. A past I cannot run from, cannot escape from. Nor do I need to. I need to remember everything that happened, and everything that will happen. That is my dream, my goal. I wish to write a complete history, a true one. One that includes the past as well as the present. I want to write a book about adventures and sorrow, joy and pain, full of life and death." She clenched her hands, staring down at the imprints her nails made on her palms.

"I AM strong enough to deal with the pain, the remembering, the recording. I have to be…" she whispered, so tired. Kidd had moved away, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall across from her.

"How do you plan on keeping these memories alive? I don't see what you can write with, or how you can keep track of so many stories."

She reached into a pack that he hadn't really noticed that was resting on her belt, on her right side. "I keep my writing materials in here," she said, pulling out a medium sized book and a couple pens and pencils. She spoke, "I also have a large pack that holds all my notes that I can carry, as well as books and writing materials. That pack holds more than you think it might," she said wryly, a ghost of an old inside joke floating in her voice

"Where is the history stuff?" Kidd asked, flipping through the book. "This book is empty." He tossed it back to her. She grinned tiredly. "It is hidden in a safe place. Besides, I couldn't let you see it yet. You're not ready. No one is ready… yet," she said, unconsciously fingering the key that hung around her neck. This little gesture did not escape his notice, and she hastily put her hand down.

Kidd looked her straight in the eye, giving her a bad feeling… "What memories faze you so much that you can't even function normally?" he asked softly. "I need to know." Burakkuson's face hardened. "They are my burden to bear, and no one else's," she said harshly, sliding off the desk and walking towards the door.

I can't rely on anyone, she thought. I can't let anyone else be hurt the way I and the others have been. I need to finish what I started, and soon. I didn't tell him… that I need to record the history and the present before my memories cause me to lose myself in the darkness and possibly, go mad… if that happens, someone has to kill me, before I do even more damage that I already have. I have to hold on… at least until he becomes strong enough to kill me.