Disclaimer: okay ummm... I wish I owned dark angel but unfortunately, I don't. Fox and a bunch of other stupid people do. Damn them.
Rating: R
Spoilers: none, this is a complete AU, but the concept is the same - manticore, escapees, chance meetings, and the fight for survival blah blah woof woof.
Okay here goes nothing...
The stinging cold of the ice against bare feet had long since faded into numbness.
The sounds of dogs barking and the commanding shouts of the Colonel could no longer be heard.
The fence was far behind, and everything familiar had vanished, but still the running did not cease.
Escape and evade, never underestimate the enemy, just when you think you're safe they can sneak up on you.
Lessons taught long ago reverberated in it's brain and the instinct – the instinct of a solider trying to assess the situation – the instinct of an animal fleeing for its life – long thought dead, was suddenly alive and well. Fear was threatening to sneak in with instinct but that was unacceptable, it had always been, even after the isolation, the tests, and the nomlies.
So the running continued as the it remembered first hearing the word... nomlies... nomlie... the it had never bothered to name them when it had been training, it had never needed to, the it had rarely ever seen them. It had only been allowed to see the Colonel when he was drilling the it, and the scientists when they poked and prodded at it – trying to find out why it was only one that had survived. There had been others like the it, that much had been established, the Colonel had mused in his weaker moments how powerful a whole group of them could have been.
However the Colonel rarely allowed himself to be so weak, so it alone was trained. To be the smartest, the strongest, and the best. The best soldier. Ever. That ever was, that ever would be... or so at least that's what it had thought.
But it seemed that it's time with the Colonel and the scientists was not to last. It had seemed long - after all, the training had begun only a few weeks after its birth. Everything it had ever known was Manticore. It was strange, the it wasn't really sure what Manticore really was. It seemed, in it's mind, to be thing giant looming figure that watched and controlled over all it's actions and thoughts. Manticore's will was carried out though the Colonel, and through it. But then abruptly and without warning there was a change. Manticore, in all it's glory, no longer needed or wanted it. The it was thrown into a damp dirty cell – so different from the sterile bunker of the it's past – and was henceforth a reject, an extra...thing...in the basement. From then on, its life had been spent with the nomlies – it had become a nomlie after the births.
The births of the X-5 series.
They had surpassed all of the Colonel's and the scientists' hopes - they had surpassed all of the its abilities.
So after that it was no longer a soldier, it no longer had a designation. It became a nameless it, a nomlie. It was only taken out of its cell to be experimented on, to test new genetically engineered diseases, or new torture devises.
It remembered first seeing its successors through the bars of its cell in the basement. The Colonel was marching them down the hallway, as he had done with it once, long ago. He had stopped them there and left for some reason, perhaps to go talk to one of the guards further down the hallway, or perhaps to send a silent warning to them all.
They had looked at its neighbors with frightened, yet determined faces. It remained hidden in the shadows, not to be seen.
"What are they?" one of them dared to whisper.
"Nomlies," another one whispered back.
"Why are they here Ben?" Ben? A curious designation.
"They were bad soldiers," It was outraged, it had never been a bad soldier, it had always been good. How dare they make such accusations?
The nomlie in the cell next to the its cell shot out an arm at them suddenly. And although the nomlie did not reach them, one of them let out a small scream and jumped back.
"Hush Jondy!" one of the older X5s said to the one that had screamed.
"But Zack-"
"But nothing," He said sternly, "a solder fears nothing, now get back in line."
The one called Jondy had complied, but she still eyed the cells around her warily. The it was left wondering about the odd designations they called each other.
As it was musing about this, it felt odd and realized that there was a pair of eyes watching it and turned to see which one was staring.
A smaller X-5 was watching it. The X-5 was obviously one of the younger one's, and had big brown eyes that stared right into its own green orbs. It could not help but stare back, almost trapped in the gaze.
"X5-452! Eyes front!" The Colonel's thunderous, commanding voice broke the stare between it and the brown eyed X-5.
"Sir! Yes sir!" The brown eyed X-5 had shouted, as the it realized that the small X-5 must have been the one called 452. The Colonel turned around and looked it right in the face and growled "get down from whatever it is your standing on," and with that he slammed a fist against the bars. It stumbled off the bucket it had used to be tall enough to peer through the bars, and landed with a thump on the hard concrete floor.
It had seen the X-5s only a few more times after that. Sometimes, when the guards dragged it to the labs, it would glance into the workout rooms and see them. Often they would be sparing. Jondy and X5-452 would often be together, the one called Zack always close by - watching over all the X5s. They were a mystery, all of them; the way they acted around each other, the way they worked together, and the way they looked out for each other. This must have been what the Colonel had wanted, it had thought, the Colonel had wanted more... more soldiers, more drones, working in tandem. But the others had died - it was the only survivor of it's kind, a single drone, useless and disappointing.
In the end it was the tests that finally made it decide to escape. The never ending, ever changing torture that was the tests
The Knives, the needles, the tubes, the wires, the straps, the tables, the metal, the cold, the heat, the electricity, the masks, the goggles, the guards, the scientists... and the Colonel.
There had to be something better than all the tests, it knew, somehow it knew that there must have been something outside the thick concrete walls. Something more then the gray, chrome, and red.
Even if it had never seen anything, even if it had never been given any proof - it knew there had to be something out there.
Something...
Anything...
There was a life out there, a life that could be it's own, if only it could escape.
The scientists and guards left sometimes. They always came back, but every once and a while they would leave, and the Colonel never even tried to stop them. They were allowed to leave as long as they came back, which they always did. But, where did they go? What was this place beyond the barbed wire? This place that put the color back into their faces.
If it ever got beyond the wire it knew it would never come back.
It would die before it ever went back.
The escape wasn't planned, it just happened. The guards weren't paying attention and the gleaming window was unbarred. It was an opportunity, and the Colonel always commanded that opportunities were to be seized, by any means necessary. So it ran and jumped and crashed and landed and then ran again and kept running.
It hadn't thought the Colonel would chase after it, the Colonel had never cared before, why should he care now? So it ran, even after the sounds of dogs and guards came, it ran closer and closer to the gate. Ignoring the cold, ignoring the snapping of twigs and ice beneath its feet, ignoring the fear, and ignoring the voices in its head telling it to turn back – it ran.
It ran like hell.
The gate was in sight when suddenly it was tackled to the ground. It fought blindly, franticly - wanting only to get away - but the attacker had the upper hand – she was recently trained and less panicked. The attacker had it pinned to the ground when it finally caught a glimpse of the face - the eyes. Brown eyes, deep, soulful, and familiar.
452 was smaller than it was but she still strong, she had been made that way.
Her face changed as she looked into its eyes.
"Its you," she whispered.
"Its you," it whispered back as 452 got off it and back away a little - holding her gun up.
Her face looked odd for a moment, and it wondered what the expression meant. 452 lowered her gun and whispered something much unexpected.
"Go"
"What?" it whispered back, surprised.
"Go... before the rest come."
"You'll shoot me if I run"
"No I won't! Now go, quickly!"
She shot a warning shot into the trees when it failed to comply.
"They'll be here in any moment now. You have to go!"
"Why are you letting me?"
"I don't know. Now run before they catch you!"
It didn't hesitate after that and took off towards the gate and climbed to the top of the fence and dropped down to the other side. It looked back to see 452 still there.
'Go' she mouthed and it took off running as fast as possible.
It didn't stop, just kept going, and kept running, even after all signs of a threat were gone. It didn't want to stop, it wanted to run in the open space forever, run in the woods and snow, it had run past the ends of its world long ago, and now the only place to go was forward.
Soon enough though, a structure came into sight, small and wooden. It stopped, unsure what to do, and stood there trying to think of what the Colonel would have said about this particular situation. 'After escaping from the enemy fortress, find a way to communicate with home base and find shelter.' Well, home base and the enemy fortress happened to be one in the same, so all that was left was to find shelter and there it was.
It started towards the structure slowly, still uneasy about the situation. The windows in the structure were lit up and a warm inviting glow illuminated from them.
It was close to the door, when suddenly it opened and a female figure appeared. It froze in place, every part of its training forgotten at the sight of this female dressed so oddly, no white lab coat, or military fatigues or anything it had ever seen. The colors she wore were so different compared to the black, white, and gray it was used to. Her facial expression was odd - not like the expression 452 had made - it was surprised, but then warm and inviting and like nothing it had ever experienced before.
"Are you lost little boy?" she asked in a soft tone.
It shook its head, but then nodded - unsure how to respond.
The female took in its appearance: the blue, bare feet, and the old, torn shirt and pants. The same clothes it had worn since the Colonel had thrown it into its cell for the first time, so long ago.
"Do you want to come inside, honey?" It stared at her, confused. It had never been called honey before, could she be confusing it with someone she knew?
"I'm not honey," It clarified.
The women made an odd noise and another strange face at its comment, causing it to become even more confused.
"Why don't you come inside?" she asked as she extended a hand to it. It looked at the hand for a moment, and then extended its own and the woman took it and led it inside.
The structure was very warm inside, and there it found another person, a male who made a face similar to the one the female was making. The female gestured for it to sit on the chair next to the male, and when it complied she gave the male a look and they left the room and went into another one. It watched them leave, and frowned. Were they reporting him back to home base? Were they agents for the Colonel? It looked around at the new setting; it could not see how anyone living in a dwelling like this could be associated with the Colonel in any way.
The room was very colorful, there three bright red – not like blood – stuffed chairs, images surrounded in wood and glass hung on the walls, a whole in the wall with a fire inside, and colored rectangles of fabric underneath pieces of wooden tables and desks. The whole place was strange... and yet oddly comforting.
The male and the female reentered the room and sat in the stuffed chairs across from it. They looked at each other nervously, (a familiar expression, finally) and seemed unsure what to say to it... finally the male took a deep breath and began to speak to it.
"What's you're name?" the male asked in a soft voice
It thought for a moment, remembering what the nomlie Joshua, who had snuck him food on occasion, had told it about names and designations. "Names and designations different," he had said, "Names better, names unique,"
"My name is..." it hesitated, remembering, "Logan,"
Yes, that was right, that's what Joshua had called him.
"Logan, huh?" the male said.
"Yes," he replied, "My name is Logan"