Ok, and why is FF.net down for 911?
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Knives turned, strode back to the group of humans he had left, and proceeded to crouch down and break their arms. Vash leaned against the wall with his eyes closed and tried unsuccessfully to not flinch with each sickening crack. Absently, he rubbed at his chest, trying to work some of the sting out. The armor may have stopped the bullet, but there was still a bunch of kinetic energy that had no place to go other then forward. Carefully, he tested the area around the grate on his chest, made sure that the gaping hole in his ribcage that it covered was still protected. Thankfully, it was, but the skin around it was tender enough that he suspected that there was likely some tearing. He just wasn't about to strip now to find out.
He heard Knives walking towards him and opened his eyes a fraction, only to close them again when his brother passed him and crouched down by the unconscious men.
"Please don't," he said softly.
"Don't what?" asked Knives, breaking yet another man's arm.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do what?" Crack.
"You know what I mean. Don't," crack, "break their arms."
"I'm not doing this just for fun." Crack.
"That is incredibly wrong, foul, and disgusting." Crack.
"You forgot necessary." Crack.
"It isn't necessary! I'm sure," crack, "they've learned their lesson."
"Why?" Crack. "Because they lost? Does possessing," crack, "superior force make you right, Vash?" Crack. "Is that what you believe?"
"No." Crack. "But surely they see now…"
Crack. "See what?" Knives interrupted. "They aren't going to see anything but what they want to see," crack, "and they want to see us as a threat." Crack. "Personally, I don't care what they think, but I'm not," crack, "leaving crazed humans at my back with only," crack, "unconsciousness as my shield." Crack. "I'm not stupid."
"I'm not stupid!" his brother protested.
Crack. "Who's the one with the body covered with scars, and," crack, "who's isn't?
"That has nothing to do with this." Crack.
"Why not? It seems to have everything to do with this." Crack. "You are just too softhearted to do what is necessary to ensure your survival." Crack. "I am not." He stood up and brushed his hands together, trying to erase the feel of the humans' flesh beneath his hands. "Let's go."
Vash opened his eyes and tried to not look at the bodies on the ground. He had to see them to walk around them, but he tried to keep his gaze from lingering on the arms that bent just a little bit the wrong way. Swallowing heavily, he gingerly walked around them, boots barely touching the ground as he precariously tiptoed around the lax limbs.
Knives merely nudged the bodies out of the way, setting each foot down firmly whether he had to move an arm, a leg, or a head to do so.
"So now where do we go?" asked Vash after they turned a corner and the men were safely out of sight.
"We are obviously on the right track. No one sets up a trap like that along the wrong path."
"What do you mean?"
"They would expect that we would know where we are going, and set the trap along the projected route to our goal. So, obviously, we're going the right way."
"Oh. Nice of them to help us out, then."
"Surely not their intention."
"Anyway… Now where?" The corridor had opened up into another atrium, five other corridors branching off to unknown destinations.
"I don't think splitting up is a good idea," Knives mused. "That one," he pointed to the left, "would take us to the vehicle bay. We'll probably want to leave through there. That leaves these four to search." He looked at them, then pointed at the second one from the right. "There."
"Why?"
"The batch of labs along that corridor," he pointed to the far right, "are very convenient to the vehicles. Too much so to likely be abandoned. These back here are a bit less accessible."
"Ok. You're the expert on the layout of ships."
"I'm the expert on everything except making a fool of myself."
Vash shrugged, and they moved on.
Knives had been right in his choice of corridor, but even so, finding Kiley wasn't an easy task. There were many unused labs that had to be checked, each door accessed to discern what was on the other side. They looked into a lot of broom closets and empty rooms, past the ghosts of lab equipment unused and forgotten under dust cloths. Periodically, one or the other would cough, throat having become clogged with the thin film they disturbed with their passage. A less preoccupied mind might have felt the disturbed motes pretty, might have watched their passage under the lights on the ceiling with something approaching awe, but neither man did. There was no time. Minutes trickled by and became an hour, and Knives fought against a feeling of time being the enemy. The passage of seconds was not the danger, the humans were, and he had taken care of the humans.
Finally, they reached a lab near the end of the corridor that looked to have some recent use. Knives palmed open the door and looked inside. A bank of monitors had been set up, and all were focused on one subject.
Kiley.
He reached out a hand and touched one as if he were touching her face and not a mere image, finger trailing lightly down her bruised visage. His heart clenched as he saw what had been done to her, the bruises on her face, the rags of her clothing, the blood on her thigh. He slowly lifted his hand from the monitor and moved out of Vash's way, ignoring his gasp of breath as he, too, took in what had been done to her.
Knives saw the door on the other side of the lab that looked to have been worked on most recently and strode determinedly over to it. He tried to open it, but it was stuck.
"Vash?" he called out demandingly, and his brother came over at a brisk jog, then lent a hand. They managed to drag the damaged door open enough for Knives to squeeze through, which he promptly did.
Had he not been prepared for what he saw, he might have stopped when he first laid eyes on her, might have paused in shock that anyone could do what had been done to her to another soul. She looked awful, her eyes nearly devoid of life, of the vivacity that always filled them. She looked at him and tried to smile, her eyes regaining a glimmer of their sparkle, but the left side of her face wouldn't work right and she stopped trying. Then she frowned, and asked, "You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
Of all the words he had expected to hear, had hoped to hear… those weren't it. "Not yet," he replied with a scowl, and bent down to gently pick her up.