Episode One: Pioneer Days
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
Part Three
When Lark regained her senses, she found herself partially buried under rubble. Sitting up, she groaned when the room started spinning around her. Her skull felt like it had been split in two. She pressed a hand against her forehead and winced in pain. Her scalp was cut and bleeding freely, but everything else seemed to be intact. She'd find out soon enough if she had a concussion.
Lark dislodged herself from the debris covering the lower half of her body and flexed her limbs before rising. Nothing broken, and a bump on the head—she was damned lucky. She'd been hurt worse than this after taking on that gang demons near the Beltway. No matter what scrape she found herself in, for some reason she was never much worse for wear. It was strange—she never remembered being so resilient as a child. She'd left her second foster home with a broken collarbone and two cracked ribs and spent the better part of the fourth grade in the hospital. But in the past few years she'd barely suffered more than a scratch.
Finding Tom in the mess was a bit of a challenge. The chamber had been full of other passengers. Most of the pods were intact and still neatly lined against the walls of the chamber, but Lark ran across more than one body in her search. She briefly wondered what the casualty rate had been. It looked as though the majority of the passengers not only escaped the disaster unscathed, but still remained safely in stasis.
Lark crawled over broken portions of machinery, avoiding the remains of former passengers whenever she could. When she reached Tom's pod, she realized that a heavy piece of debris had fallen across it and shattered its protective glass plating. She strained to pull it out, then tossed it far away from the surrounding pods. Leaning close, she peered in at him to see if he was still alive.
Tom lay stunned amid the debris. At first she thought he'd been struck unconscious yet again, but then he opened his eyes and gazed up at her.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I think I'm just banged up a bit. What the hell happened?"
Lark grasped his forearm and hauled him up to his feet. "We hit something," she said. "This place is trashed. We should check on some of the passengers; get the rest of the crew involved. If there are a lot of injuries, it will be a vampire smorgasbord."
Tom nodded. "Bleeding, immobilized prey," he said. "Like spreading chum in shark infested water."
Her brow wrinkled as she gave him a disgusted look. "Thanks for the visual," she muttered.
"Wait," he said as she turned away to walk toward the corridor.
"Are you injured?" she asked.
"Listen," Tom entreated. "The engines have stopped."
Lark glanced up toward the ceiling. "Power's still on," she said. "You said that chick is up in the control room?"
He smiled. "Her name is Valerie Jackson," he said. "She must have taken control of the ship at some point."
"Well, remind me to compliment her on her driving skills," Lark muttered. "We should probably get up there to see what the situation is. We can't help any of these people on our own."
Tom shook his head. "I can't get up to the top level," he said. "And neither can you. We don't have clearance."
"I don't think that really applies anymore," she argued. "It won't be a problem. Come on."
Val typed furiously on the keypad before her. "Come on, you old bastard," she whispered to herself. "Where are you hiding?"
Pausing, she glanced up to take another look out of the viewing portal. Outside of the ship, a vast jungle spread as far as the eyes could see. Thick black smoke wafted past as the wind shifted. Their landing had obviously started quite a blaze behind them. At least the ship was protected from fire damage. It had already taken enough of a beating.
The large sun was just setting to the right of the portal. So that was West…if the sun set in the West on this planet. She couldn't see any sign of life, but the flora here was so thick it seemed nearly impenetrable. There could be all sorts of strange things hiding in there.
Val leaned forward to take a better look outside before the light waned completely. Just then, a loud crashing sound nearly sent her tumbling out of her chair. She jerked around to see the heavy door of the control room fly inward and bounce against the wall. A woman strode inside just behind it, quickly catching it before it could rebound against her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Val demanded. "And…how did you do it?"
The dark haired woman merely glanced at her expressionlessly. Her attention was distracted by the sight of the jungle outside. She walked closer to the viewing portal behind the console and quietly observed their surroundings.
Val spotted a familiar figure strolling in shortly after and relaxed somewhat. "Tom," she said. "You're uninjured?"
"I'm fine," he assured her. When she glanced toward the strange woman, he quickly introduced her. "Deborah Lark," he gestured. "Valerie Jackson."
The woman turned to examine Val, her dark eyes sweeping over her in a faintly disturbing manner. She seemed to decide that Val posed no threat, for her stance relaxed considerably.
"Valerie?" she asked.
"Val."
Nodding, the woman responded. "Lark."
"Pleased to meet you. Now would you like to explain why you're destroying the ship?" Val asked.
Lark broke into a grin. Glancing at Tom, she said, "She's funny."
Val frowned. "She's not joking," she snapped. She turned to Tom and asked, "Why did you bring her up here?"
"We came to see if you were all right," Tom said.
"Well, I'm fine," Val responded before returning her attention to the console before her.
"Where are we?" Tom asked, moving to stand beside Lark near the viewing portal.
"It's not Vic-12," Lark said.
Val sighed. "No, it's not. The ship hit some debris as I was trying to bring Harrison back. He's been taken offline somehow. We lost engine power, and I had to take over manually and try to land. I haven't piloted a ship this big before." She rubbed her forehead self-consciously.
"Well, we're in one piece," Lark said. "You must have done something right."
"I'm pretty rusty," Val responded. "We need to get Harrison back. He'll be able to help us figure out what went wrong."
"Well, while you work on that, maybe we should start getting some of the crew together?" Tom asked. "See about the passengers?"
"Right," Val said. She shook her head. "You're right. I didn't even think of that."
"Hey," Lark told her. "It's cool. Don't worry so much. Just wake up this Harrison guy, and get some crew members up, too."
"Harrison is the computer system," Tom informed her.
"Well, whatever. How long before we can get some help checking on the passengers?"
"Two hours at least," Val answered.
"This is kind of an emergency," Lark said. "Can't you speed up the process?"
"That is if I speed up the process. You can't just pull people out of stasis without the potential for causing real harm. Didn't you feel strange when you came out of it?"
Lark shrugged. "I seem to be okay."
Val had to laugh. The woman's forehead was covered in blood, and her hands seemed to be bandaged with bits of Tom's uniform. She definitely didn't look like she was 'okay.'
"It will take two hours," she reiterated. "I'll start working on the process now."
"Fine," Lark stated. "We'll need people with medical experience. Military backgrounds would be good. Do you have access to personnel files?"
"Yes, but…why military?"
Lark ignored her and turned to Tom to say, "We'll use the two hours to figure out where the vamps went. Take care of them before the other passengers are revived."
"Vamps?" Val sputtered. "You mean vampires? Tom, this woman was struck on the head. I think it would be best if--"
Lark spun around angrily. "I think it would be best if you stay on task," she snapped. "This is my thing."
Tom put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. No matter how calming he tried to be, he just looked ridiculous with one sleeve ripped off his shirt. "Okay, okay," he said. "Val, I know it sounds bizarre, but think of it this way. There is a gang of…criminals on board. They've been hurting people. Lark needs find these criminals and diffuse the situation. Now, can you work on Harrison and find us twenty or so able crew members to start checking on the passengers?"
Biting her tongue, Val nodded.
"Good," Lark said. "Then let's go."
Tom looked surprised. "You want me to come?" he asked.
"Can't go without my right hand man," she breezed, turning to walk out of the room.
Val sent a frown after their retreating backs. Suddenly, something occurred to her. "Does that woman even work here?" she muttered to herself. Bending over the console, she entered the codes to access the personnel list.
Lark stumbled through "A" deck with Tom, pausing when they reached the end of the wide corridor. They'd searched all three of the passenger decks and hadn't seen one sign of a vampire. There were injuries and casualties all around, but the gang still hadn't come to feed.
"Where are they?" Lark muttered.
"They must have grouped together after the crash," Tom said. "Gone somewhere to hide until things get sorted out."
"Maybe they were all dusted on impact?" Lark asked hopefully, then shook her head when Tom raised his brows. "So what's left besides the upper decks?"
"Just the cargo hold," Tom responded.
"The cargo hold," Lark repeated.
"That's where they are," Tom said, snapping his fingers. "They know there's going to be a lot of activity on the ship right now, and they're waiting to see what our next move will be."
"Well, let's get down there," Lark replied. When she turned to head toward the elevator, Tom grabbed her by the elbow.
"Wait," he said. "I know a better way." She tilted her head and gazed down at his hand where it gripped her flesh. Sheepish, Tom released her. "There's an access shaft above the main cargo bay," he said. "They probably don't know it's there. We can check out the scene from above without them even seeing us."
"Way to go, Maintenance Man," Lark said. "Lead the way."
Minutes later they were crawling through a cramped tunnel just above the lowest deck of the ship. Lark followed Tom, which was almost a bad choice, since his bulky frame blocked most of the way and made the air in front of her stifling. She felt the first panicky twinges of hysteria at being cooped up in such a confined space and did her best to control her breathing. She'd faced down vampires and demons, but still freaked out in small, dark places.
"Okay," Tom said. "Here's the grate."
"Quiet," Lark hissed when she heard a metallic squeal. "They'll hear you."
He carefully eased his way onto the narrow catwalk hugging the ceiling of the cargo bay. Lark immediately followed, grateful for the breath of fresh air. Far below them, a vast collection of boxes, crates, and supply containers filled the area.
The vamps were pretty easy to spot. They'd camped out in the open area near the huge doors used for loading. The group was nearly fifty yards away from their position on the catwalk, but Lark could still discern enough to count them out.
"There are twelve," she whispered. "I can handle that."
When she moved to head toward the opposite end of the room and the spiral set of metal stairs leading to the floor below, Tom grabbed her. "Are you crazy?" he demanded in a husky whisper. "Besides, there are four exits out of this area. The second they see you, they're going to spread out. At least now they're all in one spot."
"So what do we do, just leave them here?" Lark asked incredulously. "I've got them, let's handle this now."
"Let's form a plan first, all right?" he pleaded. "You jump down there all Dirty Harry-like and you're dead."
Lark frowned. "Dirty Harry?" she asked.
"Movie from the twentieth century," he said. "I'm kind of a film buff."
"Yeah, well, buff your films somewhere else," Lark commented. "I can take these guys."
"At least come back to see Val with me," Tom requested. "She may have an idea that we haven't considered."
Finally, Lark relented. "They better still be here when we get back," she warned him.
"I have a feeling they will be," Tom said. "They look pretty sated." An expression of disgust crossed his features.
Lark sighed and followed him back into the torturous access shaft. As she lifted the grating back into place, she stared down at the vampires longingly. She'd been close to getting that old one, too. Gritting her teeth, she crawled forward to catch up to Tom's retreating rear.
There were two more people inside the control room when they returned. Tom recognized Lyssa and Elizabeth Baines, and wondered how they'd managed to wander up here. His musings were disrupted by the sight of the expression on Val's face. She looked as though she'd been crying, and might start again at any moment. Elizabeth stood beside her seat, her hand resting on her shoulder consolingly.
"What happened?" Tom asked. In front of the viewing portal, the image of an older man looked back at him. "You've got Harrison back up."
"We've got some preliminary numbers back," Val explained. "Two hundred twenty-seven injuries, seventy-six deaths, and eleven people unaccounted for."
"Twelve vampires," Lark murmured from Tom's side.
"Would you stop?" Val demanded. "Quit this fantasy land crap already! Our propulsion is shot. This ship is no longer space worthy. And there is no way to contact Earth directly. We're so far off course there is no chance of them finding us with a basic search and rescue mission. We are never getting off this planet."
By the time she finished her tirade, she'd risen to her feet and started shouting. Tom hurried forward to calm her down. He wasn't sure how Lark would respond to direct conflict, and frankly didn't want to find out.
"Hey," he said. "It might not be that bad. Does Harrison know where we are?"
"We are currently on the fourth planet in this solar system," Harrison replied.
"That's great," Lark said. "What solar system?"
Harrison paused. "That is unclear at this time," he said. "However, we are not in the Gammec system, where Vic-12 is located."
"Already figured that one out, Superbit," Lark drawled. She glanced toward Val. "Does he know anything that will actually help us here?"
"I beg your pardon," Harrison sputtered. "My productivity was compromised, I'll have you know."
"Yeah," Tom interjected. "Who took him offline, anyway?"
"Douglas Rivers," Val murmured. She glanced at Harrison. "He's one of the missing people."
Lark sent a pointed look in Tom's direction. Val sighed heavily. "Just say it."
"Don't have to," Lark nearly sang. "It's pretty obvious. But seriously, what about this planet? Is it habit…is it ha…is it livable?"
"The atmosphere is comprised of 75% Nitrogen and 23% Oxygen, with the remaining 2% composed of various inert gases, most of which are discernable to my sensors, and none of which seem to be of any determinable toxicity to humans," Harrison said.
Lark turned to Val in exasperation. "And in English…?"
"The atmosphere is breathable," Val responded. "There is a slightly higher concentration of oxygen, which might lead to some light-headedness or nausea…" she trailed off when Lark's expression reflected her growing irritation. "It's livable," she confirmed.
"Well, then," Lark said. "We have a planet full of resources if we need them. If we need them," she stressed. "Even if we can't contact Earth from here, there has to be some way to send out an SOS, right?"
Val's brow furrowed. "There is a distress beacon," she said hesitantly. "It's not powerful enough to travel that distance, but I may be able to amplify it if I alter a few…"
She lapsed into computer-tech gibberish, losing them completely. Harrison seemed to understand exactly what she was saying, however, for he lit up suddenly and nodded. "That could work," he agreed.
Val stopped suddenly and shook her head. "What am I thinking?" she asked. "It could still take years for the signal to be intercepted. And even if it were, we have no idea where we are or how to give directions to our location."
"So we're stuck here?" Elizabeth cried. "We're really never leaving?"
Staring at her sister's stricken expression, Lyssa angrily stood from her seat. "This is really irresponsible," she chastised them. "How could this have happened in the first place? I thought you were top of the line." This last bit she directed to Harrison, who seemed to gulp in the face of her rage.
"Hey, Fifth Avenue, this wasn't an accident," Lark stated. Val seemed surprised that she jumped so quickly to her defense. "This place is crawling with vampires. They obviously messed up Harrison's systems for some insane reason."
Lyssa looked at her as one might examine a bug just before squashing it beneath her heel. "This woman is labor class," she said coolly. "What is she even doing here?"
"And you're just a passenger," Lark retorted. "You don't even work here. What the hell right do you have to say anything?"
"That's enough," Tom shouted. "All right, everybody. This is a stressful situation, and arguing isn't going to solve anything. We have injured people to think about. Are they being looked after?"
Val nodded. "The med centers are up and running," she said. "We've got forty crew revived right now, and I'm working to have more out of stasis within the hour."
"In the meantime, no one says a word about this to any of the other passengers," Tom declared. "We've still got almost nineteen hundred people on this ship. There is no way any of you are going to cause a panic."
"With her spouting off about vampires, there'll be a panic," Lyssa predicted darkly. Lark just glowered at her.
"You saw the thing that bit me," Elizabeth told her sister. "It wasn't an animal, but it wasn't human, either. You know about those things?"
Lark nodded at the query. "We know where they are," she said. "They can be taken care of permanently."
"They're in the cargo bay," Tom specified. "All twelve of them. I saw them myself."
"If we have a way to contain them…can the doors going into there be locked?" Lark asked.
Val shook her head. "No," she answered. "Well, yes, they can, but they can also be unlocked from the inside. It's a failsafe, in case anyone ever gets locked in there…" she explained. At Lark's thunderous expression, she added, "Well, we never expected vampires to be in there."
"We can still block the doors somehow," Lark said. "Trap us in there together, and I'll handle the situation myself."
"Wait!" Val cried, surprising them. "I can't believe I forgot. There is an emergency response in the event of a breach in the hull. There is a greater risk of an air leak in that area because the doors open directly out into space. If we trip the sensors, the emergency doors will close. They're airtight. There's no way anyone will get through them once they're shut."
"Can you get them closed?" Lark asked.
Val nodded. "No problem. That I can handle," she added, looking pleased with herself.
"Then give me enough time to get down there before you do," Lark said. "I want to be inside with them when the doors close."
"I can do better than that," Val said, moving to the opposite side of the room. She pressed a few buttons in a wall display and a hidden door popped open. Inside was a small supply unit. Fumbling through the items held inside, Val quickly retrieved two small items. She handed them to Lark, who examined them carefully.
Tom knew the equipment as soon as he saw it. The wristband featured a small communications device capable of contacting any of the several hundred intercom frequencies on the ship. The second piece fitted neatly in the ear and allowed the user to hear whoever was on the other end. Both were standard issue.
"Use this to let me know when you're ready," Val said. Leaning toward Lark, she pushed a few buttons on the surface of the wristband. "Channel thirty-two. It's reserved for ranking security officers, and none of them are among the missing. So the…um, vampires probably won't be able to use it."
"Okay," Lark said, placing the band on her left wrist. "This will work."
She glanced up at Tom. "I'll do this one on my own," she told him.
"Probably a good idea," he agreed. "Be careful."
"Always," she responded before turning and exiting the room.
Tom looked around the control room and knew that his own face mirrored the fear he saw on each of their features. Only Harrison retained a familiar expression of paternalistic boredom.
"She'll be fine," Tom promised them hollowly. "You didn't see the way she fights."
Lark crept behind a large grouping of wooden crates and waited to see if her presence had been detected. The vampires continued about their own business, at turns chatting amongst themselves or lounging about lazily in the broad cargo bay. Darkness had fallen—she would have assumed they would be more active at this time of day. Their time and space had probably made their sensitivity to light and dark rather nonsensical.
She peeked around the edge of a crate to take a quick head count. All twelve were accounted for. The master vampire was surrounded by his loyal minions, who fawned over him disgustingly. Lark guessed he was at least a couple of centuries old, although she had no idea how she came up with that number or how she instinctively knew if a vampire was young or old.
Retreating back to her hiding place, she brought her hand close to her mouth and spoke quietly into the com on her wristband. "Okay, Val," she whispered. "Close the emergency airlocks. Give me a couple of minutes before you open the cargo bay doors."
"Got it," Val's voice crackled through her earpiece.
Reaching toward the crate beside her, Lark carefully broke off a piece of the wooden framework holding the box together. The resulting stake was wider than she was used to, but at least she finally had a useful weapon in her hand. She listened to be sure she'd gone unnoticed. Thankfully, the doors had already started to close when she'd broken into the crate. The mechanical grind echoed through the cargo bay and muted any sounds she could possibly make.
Lark strolled out from her hiding place to see the vampires scrambling about the room. They all ran toward the same door. It was obviously the entrance they were accustomed to using. The emergency door slammed shut before any of them were able to reach it. Two of the vampires uselessly pounded against the metal. Some of the others had the foresight to look for another exit. She noted that three headed toward the opposite side of the bay. They'd be behind her when she made her move. Holding the stake behind her back, she stepped out into the light.
"I hope this party isn't by invitation only," Lark commented. The vampires near the door whirled in surprise at the sound of her voice. "Because I heard you folks can really throw down."
The master vampire gave her a dangerous grin. "You've made a big mistake, little girl," he crooned. She saw Harkon, standing behind his sire, roll his eyes in embarrassment.
Lark cocked her head. "It's funny how you types always say that right before I totally thrash you."
She whipped the stake out as the first of the minions started racing toward her. They paused at the sight of the weapon, obviously wondering how their prey knew to use it against them. But their urge to protect their sire overruled whatever hesitation they had, and they quickly began chase once more.
Lark braced herself when the first reached her side. She easily ducked to avoid his first punch. Following with her own attack, she struck him in the face with her free hand while blocking his second attempt with her right. She brought up her leg and took out his knee with a sturdy kick. As he lurched sideways in shock and pain, she thrust the stake deep into his chest.
The ash hadn't even settled before the second vampire grabbed her from behind. Curling an arm around her neck, he pulled her backwards and off her feet. Lark automatically followed the force of his momentum to pull her legs up and twist her body above his in a backwards somersault. She landed on her feet behind him. Pausing to lean forward and send a sharp kick into the stomach of another vampire creeping upon her, Lark had just enough time to take out the vampire in front of her before he was able to realize what had happened and turn around to face her.
She twisted to face the third vampire just as the cargo bay doors began lumbering open. Lark frowned. She'd hoped to take out a few more of them before they had an opportunity to escape. Just as she moved to strike the vampire in front of her, he twisted away from her and hurried toward his comrades. The vampires stared at her warily. In the span of a few moments she had managed to kill two of them. It was clear they had underestimated her abilities.
"Thank you for choosing Prosperos airways," Lark intoned. "We hope you've enjoyed your flight. All vampires please disembark via the rear exit of the ship."
She heard Tom chortle through her earpiece. "That was a good one," he said.
The master vampire glared at her in impotent rage. "You can always stay and fight," she goaded him.
He looked as though he wanted to do just that, but Harkon reached forward and pulled him back. "It's time to retire from the stage," he urgently told his sire. Glancing at Lark with cool blue eyes, Harkon added, "For now."
Lark merely shrugged at him. "Raincheck, then," she said. "Val, start closing the cargo bay doors." She returned her attention to the vampires. "You can get out before they close, or you can play with me awhile longer. I'm not even tired yet."
"Move it," Harkon commanded a slow-moving vampire in front of him. He shoved the hapless minion down the ramp.
Most of the remaining vampires had already exited the ship and moved into the surrounding jungle. Lark stepped around the depression made by the lowered ramp and stood to the side of the closing doors. When she glanced outside into the darkness, she saw Harkon turn to look at her furiously. He had to jump from the rising ramp onto the ground. She waggled her fingers at him and smiled sweetly as the doors jolted shut.
"Our vamp problem is neutralized for the moment," she spoke into the com. "The ten remaining are now locked out of the ship."
"There are still ten left?" Tom asked worriedly.
"I should've gotten more of them, I know," Lark sighed. "I didn't think they'd wuss out so quickly. But it's one less thing to worry about for now." She paused and gazed around the cargo bay. "So can you let me back in now?"
Harkon paced angrily through the group of vampires, taking time to shove one or more out of his way if they wandered too close to his path. "This is ridiculous," he raged. "Kicked off the ship like naughty children. Who does she think she is?"
"She's not entirely human," Dante said. Harkon turned on his sire in surprise.
"That girl not human?" Harkon sneered. "You're off your rocker, old man. She positively stinks of humanity."
"She is not merely a human, then," Dante amended. "She may be a Slayer."
Harkon frowned. "What's a Slayer?" he asked.
Dante chuckled. "So young, my boy," he crooned. "What a world our planet has become that you have never before heard of that blight on our kind."
"This isn't our world anymore, Dante," Harkon seethed. "This isn't even the world we were promised. If you haven't yet noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere, here. You and that half-wit friend of yours have managed to dump us in the intergalactic equivalent of Des Moines."
Rivers scowled at him but followed the expression with a cringe of shame when the others all glared in his direction.
"It is but a minor setback," Dante argued. "The others will find a way to leave, and we'll be back on the ship when they do."
"A minor—" Harkon cut himself off and threw his head back in exasperation.
Flexing his hand, he produced the wooden branch he'd been shielding against his forearm. He twisted his torso and hurled the object toward Dante. The old vampire wasn't expecting to be attacked by his own spawn. He didn't react until it was too late. The branch stabbed through his chest with enough force to protrude out the other side of his body before his flesh shattered completely. The dust was caught on the breeze and quickly carried away.
The others were stunned into silence. They stared at Harkon, frozen in fear. The blond vampire's lips curled with a sly grin as he asked, "Now, any one of you twits have an objection to that?"