Time passed slowly aboard the floating ship. For the first few weeks, Kira searched obstinately for a way to escape, but after repeated failures and a near-fatal experience when she had been exploring the exterior of the ship, trying to find an alternate way down, and had almost been blown off of one of the narrow walkways, she finally gave up and accepted her internment.

She'd been trapped here for nearly two months now. At least her captors had enough courtesy to provide her with food while she stayed, but the never-ending quest of finding activities to occupy her was driving her mad. She spent most of her time alone, often reading in the ship's vast library.

Meryl and Millie returned to Octovern a week after Knives had been taken. They stayed as long as they could to console their devastated friend, but had soon been called back to work. Apparently, their station manager was furious when Meryl told him that she wouldn't be able to get any footage of Vash after all. At least she had some decency. Despite her continued bitterness toward the raven-haired reporter, Kira was sad to see the two women go.

She visited Vash frequently and was grateful she still had his company, since he was the one person who truly understood what she was going through. They grew quite close in their time trapped together. The only problem was that he was very well known and well liked.

He often had guests over, but, like the guard who was still wary of her, they were suspicious and hesitant to interact with the woman who'd helped the villainous Knives. Even the ones who deigned to speak with her were cautious. Not that she minded—she'd rather entertain herself than be forced to sit through prattling conversations about the ship's gossip anyway. Vash repeatedly tried to bridge the gap and introduce her to new 'friends,' but it rarely went well. Even so, there were a few people she could stand.

Strangely enough, the man she was most comfortable with, other than Vash, was a member of the Federation. After the war, Panse had been assigned as an ambassador on the floating ship, since he'd already developed a relationship with its inhabitants. Kira suspected that the man's ability to understand and relate to people from all different walks of life was what allowed him to sympathize with her more than most of the people on the ship. Also, he'd been affected less directly by Knives' actions, so he didn't have such a personal interest in seeing him punished. Panse was one of the few she felt she could actually converse with, without having to keep her guard up.

She also didn't mind Brad, although his bubbly girlfriend, Jessica, was the worst combination of irritating and energetic. Like everyone else, neither of them was particularly eager to warm up to her, but she'd been adamant in trying to win the mechanic over because Vash thought he'd be the most likely person to smuggle them off the ship. Unfortunately, Brad had already been warned by Luida that such an offense would be severely reprimanded, so the probability that he would help them was low.

Vash had called Kira down today, which probably meant he was alone. At least she hoped so. He had been pushing her to socialize less and less these days, and although she generally catered to his whims on the matter, she really wasn't in the mood…

The guard outside typed in the code for the door, his demeanor gruff as always. Kira stepped into the room and was surprised to find Luida sitting with the aqua-eyed plant. She tipped her head in greeting, her eternally calm expression giving nothing away. Kira narrowed her eyes at the woman who still refused to let her leave the ship. "What do you want?"

Luida tightened her lips. "I have news for you—both of you."

Kira scowled. She was always trying to get updates but nobody ever seemed to know what the hell was going on with Knives. The last she'd heard, he was in isolation at the criminal facility in Octovern and they were hoping to start proceedings as soon as possible, but that was over a month ago. She knew these sorts of legal battles took time, but she had assumed they'd try to rush into it with such an open-and-shut case. "He's going to trial now?"

"Please, join us." Luida gestured to an empty chair.

Kira rolled her eyes and took a seat.

The older woman took a preparatory breath. "I was just informed that the situation with Knives is… is finished."

"… Finished?" Vash gave Luida a puzzled look. "You mean the trial? What did they decide?"

"I mean… everything. Apparently the judgment happened very quickly. He was found guilty and sentenced to death."

Kira's heart stopped. Surely she couldn't mean… "That's impossible," she half-whispered.

"He was executed this morning. I'm very sorry."

"No!" Kira growled fiercely. Vash simply sat in silence, his eyes blank.

"I… understand your anger. I… I am truly sorry for your loss."

"Luida… can you please leave us?" Vash said softly.

"Of course. If you need anything, please let me know." She rose quietly, giving them privacy to mourn.

Kira buried her face in her hands, tears flowing down her cheeks. She felt a hand rubbing her back gently. "I'm sorry Vash," she murmured. "I know this is worse for you than it is for me…" She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"I… I'm not so sure…"

She raised her head, confused.

"When he died the first time, I felt it. Like… really felt it. It was… painful. It was like my soul had been ripped in half—like a part of myself was just… gone. When he came back, I could feel the connection again, long before you came to the ship. I thought I was just imagining things—deluding myself—but then he showed up and I knew it was him I'd been sensing. It's had to explain, but… I can still feel him right now. Or… I don't feel the lack of him."

"You mean…"

He looked up, his aqua eyes glinting. "I don't think he's dead."

"… But then… why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I am delusional. But I have to make sure. Assuming they let us go, do you want to come with me?"

"Yes! Of course!"

He smiled. "Okay—but we'll need to be patient. I don't want them to get suspicious if we try to make a move too quickly. Besides, I need to take care of a few things before we go—starting with this fucking collar." He made a face, tapping the metal device.

Kira grinned. He'd been trying to get the doctor to remove it since it had been put on. The doc had explained that it only worked if he actually tried to use his abilities and that it wouldn't cause him any harm, to which he'd replied that he never used his abilities and sleeping in a metal collar was extremely uncomfortable. They had gone back and forth for about twenty minutes before Vash finally gave up and accepted that he'd just have to deal with the 'safety measure.'

"Just let me know if there's anything you need me to do," she said. "I'll be waiting."

He grabbed her hand a squeezed it. "Won't be long."

x.x.x.x.x

He was tired. So tired.

He'd been strapped to the cold metal table while they dug into his arm. They wanted to examine his gate, one of the technicians had explained. So they had. They'd cut him apart and attached a series of monitors, not that he felt any of it. He'd been put under such a heavy cocktail of drugs that they could have stabbed him through the chest and he wouldn't have felt a thing.

They had quickly decided that simply prodding his arm wasn't enough. They needed to activate the gate directly. He had explained that he could no longer power it—that he'd used all of his energy up—but they assured him that they had an alternate method. They'd connected him to a series of diodes and turned a dial.

He could feel everything now—it didn't matter how much they drugged him. A piercing, white-hot pain shot from his arm through every nerve in his body as the gate responded to the pulsing stream of energy. He'd cried out at first, begging for them to stop, but they'd simply gagged him. They'd been at it for hours, performing test after test, gradually increasing the amount of energy they shot into his arm each time and notating the feedback results.

Over and over, the piercing pain shot through him, always a little worse than before. Tears streamed down his temples and all he could do was clench his jaw on the damn gag and try to cope until they turned the machine off again, giving him a brief period rest. He wouldn't last much longer. He could feel his body shutting down from exhaustion. His vision began to blur as the energy tore through him and he slipped into darkness.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, his arm aching. To his relief, he was back in his cell at the criminal facility. He sat up and looked around dazedly, still gripped by fatigue. There was a tray of food and a cup of water on the floor nearby. He crawled over to them and began eating slowly…

When he had first arrived, most of his time was spent being interrogated. Each day, he was brought to a small room where Chronica, and a few military officers waited. He was strapped to a chair and given a drug to dull his senses. Once it took effect, Chronica would begin drawing information out of him—or rather ripping it out.

She poured through his mind while asking him questions in an attempt to pull up the memories she wanted. Anytime she found something interesting she'd continue pursuing it until she was satisfied and then report her findings to the officers. Although the collar prevented him from reaching out telepathically, he still retained control inside his own mind. He tried to fight against her, to restrict what she had access to, but the drug left him exposed. She sifted through everything that related to the war—his planning, strategy, motivation, and the guilt he now felt. It was humiliating being forced to share his most private and painful moments with such a vindictive audience.

At least she had cried when she saw what happened to Tessla. That memory had been strong enough to stop her from trying to pull anything else from him for the rest of the day.

After learning about his mysterious near-death experience she moved on to his current plans. She searched for any intention to build a militia or retaliate against the Federation or the humans but seemed satisfied that he'd given up the fight. Unfortunately that line of questioning led her to Kira. She breezed through his 'first time' with a mocking smile, though it faded when she saw his later memories of the gray-eyed girl. Mercifully, she didn't reveal much to the other officers in the room beyond Kira's name, occupation, and that he had lied about his identity to travel with her. She must have realized the girl was just an innocent bystander and not a threat. Still, he was grateful.

After about two weeks, she seemed to have learned everything she wanted to know. She told him that they were satisfied that he was not an immediate danger to the humans or the Federation and they would proceed with a trial forthwith. She said she hoped he got the sentence he deserved.

Those were her last words to him. He hadn't seen her since.

Not long after, he'd been transferred to his new cell. His accommodations at the criminal facility were much less 'luxurious' than on the Cassiopeia. His thin mattress on a platform was replaced with an even thinner pallet on the floor. His blanket was nearly threadbare and they seemed to think he didn't require a pillow. They kept him in isolation, as they had done during his interrogation. He was actually grateful for that aspect of his incarceration. At least he wasn't forced to interact with any other prisoners.

Once he had settled in, the small group of masked technicians he quickly became familiar with began a new activity—testing him. He suspected that this was the reason Chronica had been sent away. He doubted even someone as unsympathetic as her could accept seeing one of her kind treated like a lab rat. They began with mental and psychological testing. It was tedious more than anything, but they soon moved on to the physical tests. They took samples of various tissues and fluids —a process they inexplicably repeated every couple of weeks—and measured his normal bodily functions, both in action and at rest.

And then they began testing his regenerative abilities. That was when the pain had started. For weeks they'd stabbed him, burned him, poisoned him, and snapped a couple fingers. Afterwards they'd mend him and measure how quickly he healed.

He had remained relatively docile up to that point since the collar left him defenseless. Without his telepathy, he was no better than a human and his chances of breaking out on his own were slim. He knew it would be foolish to try it. As long as they treated him well, he was willing to be compliant in the hope that Vash and Kira would find some way to rescue him. But once the regeneration tests began, he became… impatient.

The first time he tried to escape, rushing out his cell door when they opened it, he'd made it halfway down the hall before the guards intercepted him. He'd taken one of them out, for good… They'd forced him to live in handcuffs after that, but he'd sprinted again. After the second time, they cuffed both his wrists and ankles before taking him to the lab. On top of that, the captain had a set of manacles installed in his cell, with a long chain attaching them to the floor beside his pallet, giving him just enough distance to get to the latrine and sink. The solution was a bit medieval, but it certainly kept him contained.

He hadn't had an opportunity to try anything since then. They continued their tests, and he continued to suffer. Still… it was nothing compared to the 'gate' test. If it got worse than that, he wasn't sure how long he'd survive.

The chain dangling from his wrist clinked softly as Knives continued putting handfuls of food into his mouth. He stared down at his crudely bandaged left arm—the one they'd cut open. At least they'd been considerate enough not to cuff it…

The sound of a grating door drew his attention and a broad-shouldered, clean-shaven man in uniform stepped into the cell. Knives smiled coldly from his seat on the floor. "Captain Garrow, a pleasure, as always."

The captain, a well-respected and highly experienced veteran within the fleet, had been in charge of overseeing Knives from the beginning. He'd been present during Chronica's investigation and had managed his transfer to the new facility. He was the only one who spoke to Knives these days, since the technicians mostly ignored him and the guards were always silent. The captain frequently showed up in the lab to watch the various 'tests,' but occasionally he'd stop by the cell to deliver one form of torment or another.

Garrow was ruthless. He was the worst kind of human. He seemed to find a great deal of entertainment in beating Knives down—both mentally and physically—and the plant suspected it was because he refused to be defeated. He would never let a repulsive parasite like Garrow break him.

The man's eyes crinkled. "I'm glad to see you're in such high spirits. From what I heard they had to drag you back here 'cause you fainted like a little girl. But it looks like you recovered. Should I call 'em back?"

"And disrupt our conversation? What a disappointment that would be…"

"You're right. I do have some news you might find interesting. You died today."

Knives frowned. Had his heart stopped when he lost consciousness?

"Oh, I'm sorry," the captain sneered, "Maybe I was unclear. You were 'executed' today. We've notified the papers and the No Man's Land government. Hell—almost all of our own crew believe it too. I thought it'd be easier to keep working with you if you were gone to the rest of the world."

"But… what about the trial?"

"I convinced the admiral it would be safer for everyone if you were tried in absentia. You gave your 'consent,' of course. Chronica's testimony was quite spirited. Honestly, the case was pretty much over by the time she was done," he said with a coarse chuckle. "Anyway, you were found guilty and sentenced to death. You'd be surprised how easy it is to fake an execution, especially on this backwater planet. A few bribes to the right people, and here we are."

"Of course…" Vash wasn't coming. Kira wasn't coming. He was alone.

He had a rough idea of why the techs wanted him—Garrow had explained it early on, although he kept quiet about his own motivations. He and Vash were the last of the first generation independents. Once the humans had learned about the power independent plants possessed, future generations were genetically modified in the fetal stage to limit their abilities so they wouldn't become a threat. According to Garrow, all the other first gens had already burnt themselves out or had been sacrificed for research like Tessla.

On top of that, he and Vash were the only twins that had been produced so far and Knives was the only plant who had survived the hair darkening effect, since Vash still had a few strands of gold. The techs hypothesized that Knives' continued survival had something to do with being a twin. If the brothers' energy was somehow linked, then maybe the small amount that Vash retained was enough to sustain both of their lives.

Regardless, they wanted to learn everything they could about him, the anomaly, and now they could take their time. They had no one to answer to. They could do what they wanted… for as long as they wanted. He had to try something.

He leapt forward to the end of his chain and reached out with his bandaged arm, wrapping it around the captain's legs, gritting his teeth against the pain, and throwing his shoulder into the man's groin, knocking him off balance. The man fell backward with a grunt. In a surprising display of reflexes, he responded with a swift knee to Knives' jaw that knocked the plant off of him.

Garrow scrambled backwards before getting to his feet, laughing. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You know you're cornered, so all you can do is attack." He aimed a hard kick at Knives, who instinctively raised his free arm to block it. Shooting pain radiated from where the foot hit, causing him to cry out.

The large man's lips spread in a toothy grin. "You should be more aware of your situation before you start something like this again," he said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He darted in, grabbing Knives' uncuffed wrist and yanking him toward the door so his arms were stretched wide before sending a brutal kick to the plant's stomach.

Knives fell to the ground, retching. The captain gave one final kick to the injured arm and laughed, stepping back out of reach. "Take care of yourself. You've got another big day tomorrow."

The heavy door groaned shut. Knives made his way back to his pallet and collapsed, trying to focus on anything but the relentless throbbing in his arm. His bandaging was now soaked in blood. He wondered if they'd even bothered to stitch the wound closed since they'd likely open it again in the morning.

Endless days of torture—that was his future. That was his punishment. He'd have to undergo ceaseless tests until his body finally gave out, just like Tessla's. This was his greatest fear, come to life. He shivered, and pulled his thin blanket around his shoulders. How he wished he could see Kira and Vash one more time…

No. He would see them. He had to stay strong. The Federation hadn't killed him, so maybe he could still find a way to escape, though it might take some time. He would have to be patient. He would have to endure…

He was just so tired.