Episode Two: Swiss Family Jackson
Written by Blitzgal
Disclaimer: The Buffy universe belongs to Joss Wheon, Mutant Enemy, and UPN. However, the original character in this piece of AU fiction belong to me. Do not reproduce in any way. Check out the Undaunted website at
Guest Starring Emma Caulfield as Jade
Mottled purple clouds swirled menacingly above as they unleashed a torrent of rain upon the jungle. Lightning slashed across the sky just before a crash of thunder echoed through the area. Not even the heavy canopy of the trees was thick enough to hinder the downfall.
Deep within the confines of the jungle, a group of vampires huddled together beneath whatever meager shelter was available. Perched on an outcropping of rock nearby, Leslie Hawkins peered across the expanse of growth between his clifftop observation point and Prosperos. The ship lay over a quarter mile away, but his eyes were able to pick out the fine details of its scarred hull.
Leslie was continually surprised by the changes in his body. His eyesight, hearing, and strength had multiplied dramatically. On the other hand, a man took the presence of his own heartbeat for granted until it was silenced forever. He wondered if the vampiric lust for blood was not actually a yearning to fill the empty void where there was once the pulsing throb of life.
Leslie glanced down at his hands and slowly shook his head. What a time to be waxing philosophic. His attempts to purge what was left of his human self were more difficult than he expected. Even taking on a new name had not altered the person he was at the very core. The name itself was a relic of his human life—a mispronunciation of his family name as spoken by his youngest sister.
He had no soul, no shred of humanity now that a demon had taken up residence inside of him. Yet his mind spun restlessly with human thoughts and emotions. Perhaps Dante had done something wrong—perhaps he had not changed completely.
"Harkon," a voice spoke behind him.
He didn't bother to turn around to see who it was. The sniveling tone of Douglas Rivers was sadly all too familiar to him.
"What is it?" Harkon asked.
"The others are…" Rivers paused. "We're hungry."
"Have you found a way back onto the ship?"
"No," Rivers replied. "But they'll have to emerge at some point. The ship does not have sufficient accommodations, and all of the passengers have likely been awakened from stasis."
"You predicted those doors would open three days ago," Harkon reminded him. "You do not inspire much confidence, Rivers."
"They can't stay on the ship indefinitely. The environment must be rather unbearable by now," Rivers explained.
Harkon returned his gaze to the fallen giant resting at the edge of the jungle. Behind it, the charred earth bore witness to the ship's path as it fell from the sky. The rains had finally doused the flames, but the destruction spanned a mile at least. Perhaps the blackened wound was visible from space. Staring at the ship, Harkon wondered how the young warrior was handling her confinement.
The screeching of children stopped Lark short as she rounded the corner to enter the central med lab. A red rubber ball careened out of the chamber, nearly striking her. Deftly catching the toy, she fought the urge to crush it in her grasp.
"Hey, that's mine!" a freckle-faced boy shouted up at her. He looked about ready to kick her in the shins if she didn't hand it over.
Frowning down at him, Lark twisted her body and flung the ball as hard as she could down the corridor. "Then go fetch," she said evenly.
The boy seemed too shocked to properly respond. When she passed him to enter the med lab, he rushed after his ball, clearly shaken by the exchange.
Tom glanced up from his work when she approached. "Making friends already?" he teased.
Lark scowled. "I'm going insane," she proclaimed. "This place is like an ant farm. I'm just waiting for some giant monstrous kid to pick us up and give us a good shake so he can watch us tunnel through the mess all over again."
Tom stared at her a long moment, his mouth open. "Oh," he responded.
Sighing, Lark sat down on a nearby stool. "So what are you doing, anyway?" she asked.
"These are the daily meds for Dr. Bartlett's remaining patients," he explained. "I'm organizing them for distribution."
"Sounds like fun," Lark said, reaching across the counter to take a small plastic cup. When she tried to grab a handful of pills from the cache spilling across the countertop in front of Tom, he took her by the wrist to push her arm away.
"I think I better handle this," he said. "Dr. Bartlett told me the exact dosage everyone needs."
Lark rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. "I'll just go see if Val needs any help, then."
As she made her way to the upper levels of the ship, Lark was forced to weave through a burgeoning crowd of passengers, most of whom had spent their waking hours wandering through the ship in confusion. She tripped over the bundled form of a woman sleeping in the stairwell as she hurried up toward the control room. Peering out from beneath her blanket, the woman scowled up at her before she changed her position and went back to sleep.
Sighing, Lark mounted the stairs. A low level officer stood at the doorway of the control room. The door itself could no longer be closed or locked since she'd kicked it in. Lark grinned wryly to herself as she surveyed the damage.
As she moved to pass the guard, he stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on her arm. "Your business?" he asked.
Lark frowned at him. "I'm going to see Val," she said. "What the hell is your business?"
His stony expression didn't change, but she suspected he was starting to get annoyed with her. "The control room is accessible to ranking officers only," he sneered, glancing down at her casual clothes. "Labor belongs on C deck."
She'd removed that damned khaki uniform days ago; even broken into a few crates in the cargo hold to grab more clothing. "Is it tattooed on my forehead?" she asked in exasperation. When he didn't respond, she pulled her arm out of his grasp and said, "Look, I'm going in there whether you try to stop me or not. It'll take me two seconds either way."
"Marcus," a sharp voice said from the doorway. Glancing over the man's shoulder, Lark spotted Val standing nearby. "Stand aside and let her in."
Smirking at the guard, Lark breezed around him and followed Val into the control room. "Who put the stiff at the door?" she snapped.
"Security is posted at each high level entry in times of emergency," a man said. Sitting at Val's normal place in front of the console, he scowled at Lark's intrusion. "It's common protocol."
Lark didn't respond as she continued on her way to the front of the room and dropped into one of the chairs in front of the console. "How they hangin', Harrison?" she asked the computer generated image hovering before them.
"Oh, uh…" Harrison sputtered, confused by the colloquialism. "Very well, thank you," he finally decided.
"The only emergency is that we're stuck in this box like a bunch of sardines," Lark said. "How long before that distress beacon starts transmitting?"
Val sat in the chair next to her. "It's ready," she replied. "Harrison and I just finished calibrating the system."
"But you have no way of knowing how long before it's intercepted?" Lark questioned. When Val shook her head, she snorted. "So the reason we're all piling on top of one another in here is…? Maybe we need to think about sticking some people back in the deep freeze if this is going to take awhile."
"That is not a viable option at this time," Harrison intoned.
"The ship just doesn't have the energy to support that number of people, not after the crash," Val explained.
"Then we go outside," Lark said. "We have enough supplies to set up housing, and there's an entire planet of space out there for us to stretch our legs."
"The prefabs are contracted for use on Vic-12," the man interjected. "They will not be assembled here."
Lark turned toward him and frowned. "And who the hell are you?" she asked.
"Lark…" Val warned. "This is Lt. Richard Jarvis. He was to oversee the security measures at the settlement."
Lark shrugged. "So how does that put you in charge here?" she challenged him. The two were silent as they calculated potential weaknesses in one another.
"Everything on this ship—excluding personal property, of course—belongs to the United States government. You have no right to tamper with it in any way. Those prefabs are not leaving the cargo hold until we reach Vic-12."
"You're assuming that we do reach Vic-12," Lark replied coolly. "Even the computer thinks that may be a dim possibility at this point."
"I did state that," Harrison pointed out helpfully.
"What do you think, Val?" Lark asked, turning toward the redhead beside her.
Val looked shocked to be brought into the argument. "I—" she faltered under the Lieutenant's baleful glare. Glancing down at the console, she punched a few keys and brought up a diagnostics chart. "The ship is sinking into the earth," she pointed out. "And portions of the cargo hold as well as level C are beginning to flood due to the storms. The ship's energy levels are in decline. If we wait too much longer, the question of whether we should leave the ship may no longer be pertinent."
"Well, there you go," Lark said to Jarvis before whipping back to face Val and sputter, "We're sinking?"
Val nodded. "The ground here is relatively soft. It's made worse by all this rain. The weight of the ship is too much for it to support. We're not actually sinking too dramatically, but the movement is there. We're also keeling to the right, which means that eventually the cargo doors will no longer lead directly out to the ground."
"The safest course is to remain on the ship until rescue," Jarvis continued to argue.
"That's it," Lark said, jumping to her feet. Leaning over Jarvis, she was pleased to note the way he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He instinctively knew she wasn't someone to underestimate. "Now, we all understand that your only interest here is to cover your own ass. Val here actually realizes that there are over fifteen hundred other people on this ship. I ask you again, who the hell put you in charge?"
Sputtering indignantly, Jarvis lurched out of his seat in order to stand over her. "In times of emergency, protocol states that—"
Lark interrupted him, turning to Val, "He's making this crap up, isn't he?" Facing Jarvis once more, she continued, "Fact is, you folks have no idea who should be in charge. The top dogs in this project have gone over to the other side, and you are all scrambling to figure out what's going on. What you need is for someone to take initiative and make a few decisions around here. And so far there's just one woman with the guts to do that. She's the same woman who saved our butts landing this ship."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Lark stared at Jarvis and dared him to protest. Not surprisingly, he took a moment to search for the right words before he responded, "That's ridiculous. You do not have the authority to just decide on a leader. Val doesn't even work for the government—she's a contracted worker."
"Well, that makes me trust her even more," Lark replied smoothly. "But I'll tell you what. We'll be democratic about it—in the spirit of the old US of A. We'll ask all of the passengers who they think should be calling the shots—the woman who figured out what was going on after your people thoroughly screwed this mission, or…" she looked him up and down disapprovingly. "You."
Angry, Jarvis reached out and grabbed her by the elbow. "You—" he managed to snarl before his voice was cut off. Lark twisted out of his grasp, grabbed his arm, and spun him around. Shoving his arm high against his back, she threw him against the console.
"Now, I say…" Harrison spoke mildly. "Mind the equipment."
"Lark," Val entreated.
Lark didn't bother to respond. "Now you listen to me," she hissed, leaning over Jarvis. He groaned when she forced his arm even higher. She could hear his tendons straining with the effort. "Your people dropped the ball on this one. You could have prevented this entire situation if you'd just listened to me back at the skyport. Now your own people are part of the problem. And you're going to listen to me whether you like it or not. Val knows this ship better than any of your government drones. And she actually gives a damn about these people. So she's in charge. And if you cause any problems for her, I'm going to yank off this arm and beat you with it. Got that?"
"Lark, let him go," Val demanded.
Sighing, Lark did as she asked. Stepping away from Jarvis, she watched as he spun around angrily, his arm cradled by his opposite hand. "You'll be answering to the authorities when we're rescued," he promised darkly.
Lark shook her head. "I won't hold my breath. Now, just for the hell of it, let's take that vote."
"Hey, watch your tail!" Lark shouted.
The man operating the lift paused to glance behind himself. As the machine hauled out several large pieces of steel, it barely missed grazing the edge of the cargo doors. Giving Lark a little salute, he adjusted his trajectory and continued to drive the machinery down the ramp and onto the soft floor of the jungle.
"This is going to take awhile," Tom commented beside her.
Glancing up at him, Lark shrugged. "We knew it would take weeks to put the housing together on Vic-12, and that planet was prepared for our arrival," she said. "It'll be over a month before we're really settled in here. And that's just at a basic level. We've got the unloading of personal possessions, resource allocation, the establishment of a decent water source, as well as..."
"I know the drill," Tom said smoothly, "I attended those seminars, too."
"Ms. Lark?" a young man asked tentatively. "Where am I supposed to be?"
Turning to face him, Lark glanced down at the bit of fabric tied around his bicep. "You're red team," she said. She shifted position to point eastward. "You're digging out foundations over at the east end of the clearing."
When he turned to go, Tom shook his head. "You and Val came up with quite a system," he said.
"Yeah, well, we only have half the machinery we were supposed to, so we're going to rely a lot more on manual labor," Lark said. "Plus Vic-12 is outfitted with generators, while we're just left with the measly solar panels outfitted on the prefabs. We'll be lucky to have electricity. Hey!" Lark shouted, spotting another problem nearby. "Those go over at the south end of the clearing. You're headed in the wrong direction."
"Where is Val now?" Tom asked.
"Working out some details with Jarvis and his cronies," Lark responded darkly.
"I'd be interested to know exactly what you said to make him change his mind about leaving the ship," Tom said.
"It wasn't as much what I said as it was the fact that I was about to rip off his arm if he didn't back down," Lark explained. "Those government bastards really get under my skin."
"You know, technically, we are both government bastards," Tom teased her. "Since we are on the same payroll and everything."
Lark shook her head. "We have too much imagination to be like them," she disagreed. "Hold up. Is that Lyssa Baines over there?"
She stalked across the line of traffic out of the ship to confront the blonde woman lounging against a bundle of supplies as she flirted with a couple of security guards observing the scene. Tom followed in her wake, attempting to warn her against any drastic action, but Lark ignored him. She was getting sick of the princess and her attitude.
"Lyssa," Lark snapped, walking up behind her.
The young woman had a sneer on her face before she even turned to see who was speaking to her. "Yes?" she asked, her voice cold.
"What's this on your arm?" Lark asked.
Lyssa glanced down at the orange band tied around her upper arm. "What's your point, Lark?"
"This," Lark retorted, flicking the band with her finger, "means you're to be on the south end of the clearing, marking the housing lines. I gave you the easiest job I could, based on your abilities."
"Well, thank you so much for your empathy," Lyssa said. "Why aren't you wearing an armband? Let me guess--you're 'supervising.'"
"That's right," Lark nodded. "Now get your ass on the other side of the clearing. That is, if you can keep your libido in check long enough to stick a few poles in the ground."
Lyssa scowled at her. "You are labor," she snarled. "Before this trip, you didn't have two quarters to rub together. You should be taking orders from me."
"Well, that's just not the way life works sometimes, sweet cheeks," Lark said. Grabbing the woman's arm, she hauled her away from the men, who quickly protested the rough treatment.
Lyssa struggled in her grasp. "Get your hands off me," she exclaimed. Finally shoving Lark away from her, she reeled back and stalked away in the opposite direction.
"South is that way, princess," Lark called.
When Lyssa ignored her, Lark moved forward to go after her. Tom's hand fell on her shoulder as she did, and she paused to glare up at him.
"That..." she trailed off, searching for the words. "I am going to strangle her if she so much as looks at me the wrong way."
"Well, it probably wouldn't be that great of a loss, but maybe our time would be better spent dealing with the people who actually do want to work, hmm?" he murmured.
Lark shook her head at him. "Did you ever think about getting into politics?" she asked.
"I'm way too honest," he deadpanned.
Finally alone, Lyssa stalked along the edge of the treeline, still fuming over her current situation. Some part of her understood that she'd have been toiling in a similar manner on Vic-12. Perhaps she should have given more thought to this enterprise before signing on. She had to admit that she often naively imagined herself lounging under the sun and sipping a cool drink before the backdrop of an alien world.
There was little chance of that now. Here the sky was normally overcast, and rain spritzed on them at all hours of the day. This place wasn't an adventurous vacation, it was a nightmare. Stooping to pick up a half-charred twig, she hurled into the nearby foliage. Small animals scattered at the sound, unseen under the heavy greenery. Just ten feet into the cover of trees the light dissolved into complete blackness. A person could get impossibly lost just moments after entering that mess.
Lyssa turned on her heel when she heard a subtle sound behind her. It took a moment for her to see him, but a man stood within the shade offered by overhanging branches at the edge of the jungle. While the sun hadn't been out in full force since they'd crashed, somehow enough light streamed through the clouds to illuminate the clearing.
He looked strangely familiar. Of course she'd probably seen him on the ship. Lyssa frowned and tilted her head, trying to jog her memory.
"Lyssa Baines," the man said.
At the sound of his voice, Lyssa gasped in surprise. "Leslie," she responded. "Leslie Hawkins? I had no idea you'd signed on to this."
"Yeah, well, Arthur's handling most of father's old accounts. They didn't much need me mucking about. You do remember Arthur, don't you?"
Lyssa blushed at the pointed question. "Yes," she whispered. She was amazed that he'd had the gall to bring that up, even obliquely.
She took a few steps toward him, edging against the shadows. "Why are you hiding out here?" she asked.
"Oh, the same reason as you, I'd expect," Leslie responded. "You were never much for physical exertion, as I recall."
She frowned at his sly innuendo. He wasn't at all as she remembered him. He had a coldness now that hadn't been there before. In an instant, she thought about that crazy laborer and all of her rantings about monsters on the ship. Lyssa nearly groaned at the very suggestion that Lark knew what she was talking about, but something was not right.
"Step out into the light," Lyssa told him. She stepped back from the shadows and waited for him to follow.
Leslie smiled. "And be seen by the chain gang operators? I'm quite comfortable where I am."
Lyssa shook her head. "You didn't just come off the ship with us this afternoon," she realized. "You were expelled with those others."
"I don't think I like your implication," Leslie murmured. "I've come here with nothing but good will--to put the past behind us. Yet you persist in insulting me. I think it's time we finally made nice with one another, don't you?" He opened his arms wide in a beckoning gesture.
"Don't you dare," a voice behind her demanded.
Dropping his hands, Leslie rolled his eyes and groaned. "Just perfect," he said. "What are you, little girl, some kind of bloodhound?"
Lark stepped beside Lyssa and placed a hand on her arm. "Do you see it?" she asked her. "The pale features, the dullness in his eyes? You see how he's changed?"
Wordlessly, Lyssa nodded.
"Oh, please," Leslie spat. "This one spent most of our relationship strung out. She wouldn't have noticed a Lear jet landing next to our bed."
"Your relationship?" Lark asked. "You know him?"
"She pretended to lose her virginity to him," Leslie mocked. "You didn't think I knew about that, did you?"
"Shut up," Lyssa whispered.
"You insufferable bitch," Leslie shouted. "I should--" he paused when his face shifted with the force of his anger. Peering at them with yellow eyes, he bared his fangs at them and snarled ineffectually.
"You blinked, Harkon," Lark said. Beside her, Lyssa stared at him in horror. "Now you'll never get her alone."
"Harkon?" Lyssa asked. "That was Melissa's name for you."
"Bite your tongue," Harkon growled. "Better yet, come forward and I'll bite it for you."
Lark shook her head. "Melissa..."
"His baby sister," Lyssa explained. Harkon merely scowled at them both.
"You just get cuter and cuter every time we meet, pretty boy," Lark chuckled.
Furious, Harkon pointed at her. "You watch your step. Night will fall soon enough."
"And we'll be back on the ship when it does," Lark promised him. "Now, do I go in there after you? I'd really prefer to take care of this right now."
"Just try to keep up," Harkon whispered before turning and taking off into the jungle.
Lark couldn't help but laugh at the sight of his retreat. "Baby sister," she muttered, shaking her head. The fact that he was actually in charge of a gang of vampires just tickled her to no end. She quieted when she saw the expression on Lyssa's face. "I wouldn't worry about it," she assured her. "He's not getting back on the ship, and once the prefabs are up he won't be able to enter unless he's invited."
Lyssa shoved past her. "Just stick it up your..." her voice faded as she stalked away.
Lark shrugged. "Learn something new every day," she muttered. She walked back toward the ship to let Tom know that the princess hadn't gotten herself killed.