Disclaimer: I don't own this. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction now would I? Logic people!

Rating: PG-13

Summary: One of Lia's secrets becomes known as she unknowingly travels with the infamous Mr. Cox. Broots finds out what would actually happen in the nightmares he's always had, and Astrea discovers that something needs to be done about her 'animal' side.

Feedback: (When last we left Shadow Elf, she was on the wrong end of a blaster being held by a very PO'd stormtrooper. Her mind is now scrambling frantically for a way out, but luckily someone interferes…)

   "Look, buddy, you really don't want to shoot me. I mean, think about it. You could go to jail, or, or um, uh…." [She falls to her knees and closes her eyes, nearly sobbing uncontrollably] "Please don't kill me!"

   (Suddenly the door to the store they're out in front of opens and a little green man with a cane comes out and sees what's going on. He raises his arm and then waves it, and the stormtrooper is struck by an invisible force and after hitting a wall, is knocked unconscious.)

   [Opening her eyes] "Is it over? Am I dead yet?"

Yoda: Dead you are not. Saved you have I.

   [She sighs in relief and stands up, ready to thank her savior. She looks around, and sees no one.] "Huh? Hey where are you?"

Yoda: [rolls his eyes] Down here am I! Blind are you hmm?

   [She raises her eyebrows.] "Oh. Sorry. Didn't see you."

Yoda: Apparent that is. [He looks over her and furrows his brows] Strange creature you are.

   [Crosses her arms indignantly] "This from a three foot tall green furby?

Quote:

       "The power of accurate observation is frequently called cynicism by those who don't have it." --George Bernard Shaw

********************************ShadowElfBard**************************************

8:55 AM, Tuesday

Jessup, Maryland

Woods Behind Astrea's Home

(Astrea)

   I yawn and rub my eyes as I fully rise from sleep. Last night was weird…I don't even feel like I slept all that I need to. I know I went home early last night, and went straight to bed, so why do I still feel so tired? Ah, who knows. It'll be just another mystery to solve once I'm done with breakfast.

   I grin at the thought and move to roll out of bed, when I feel the ground move out from under me.

   I let out a yelp and dig my claws into what I believe is the wood of my bed's frame as I hang on for dear life, wondering what the heck is going on.

   I fully open my eyes, and then my mouth drops open so wide that I resemble a fish as it gasps for water. I can't believe it, this isn't happening. Now way am I where I think I am right now. It's just a dream I'm really not here, I'm in my bed, I'm under the covers… But no. It's true. I'm really where I think I am.

   I'm in a tree.

   I scramble my way back up onto the branch, and sit on the limb, looking down below me, then searching up above me. Yep, I'm in a tree all right. A big, giant, tall tree. What I'm doing in a tree and not in my bed is anybody's guess. But I do know one thing for certain.

   Something has to be done about my animal side, because it's clearly not going to be ignored…

9:13 AM, Tuesday

Blue Cove, Delaware

The Centre

Pursuit Team's Main Office

(Ms. Parker)

   I stroll into the office, thoroughly aggravated. If I took a potshot at every person who'd cheerily smiled at me this morning and asked how I was feeling, half the Centre employees would be dead. And all because I took yesterday off. Is that so damn hard to believe? Is it hard to comprehend that I might actually hate my job? That I might loathe every stinking moment of my life that I have to spend here? I would think that it was common knowledge by now.

   I start towards the computer, ready to shake Broots up a bit, and notice that the chair is empty. I stop dead in my tracks; a thousand worries running through my mind.

   Something happened to him. Is he dead? Did Lyle kill him? Is he sick? Does Sydney know? There is no way on god's good earth that Broots would be late to the Centre if he were okay. His fear of the reprimands is too strong.

   Just then Sydney walks in, side by side with my evil half. It looks like Syd's just arrived also. We make eye contact and he furrows his brow in concern at my expression. Then he glances to Broots desk and his eyes widen. I give a barely perceptible nod, and my idiot brother keeps talking, not noticing anything that goes on between us. As usual.

    "And so dad said…" Lyle stops, finally realizing that we weren't listening. He looks over to where our eyes seem glued, and then gives a slow grin.

   I snap my head towards him, noticing his look that so obviously screams, 'I-know-something-you-don't'.

    I raise a finely curved eyebrow, my blue eyes chilling and dangerous. "Where. Is. Broots?"

   He shrugs, his hands in his pockets. "How should I know?" Still he keeps on the mocking smile. 

   If only I had a crow bar… I walk towards him, smoothly, purposely, but he doesn't twitch a muscle. I'm right in front of him now, my lips barely inches away from his. "I'm only going to ask you once more brother." I glare at him in hatred. "Where is my technician?"

   Sydney is behind me, a wall of stone, but I can see the fury he's trying to keep hidden. He knows just as well as I do that Lyle had something to do with Broots disappearance.

   Lyle suddenly takes on a look of exaggerated surprise. "Oh you haven't heard?"

   "Heard what?" I ground out, not wanting to play this game anymore. If I don't find out what happened in the next two minutes he's going to lose another appendage. And I'll be sure it's not his thumb.

   But luckily for my psycho of a family member, he gives me an answer. "Your technician has been removed from the pursuit team," he says casually. "Triumvate's orders. Last I heard he was put up for auction. I received it in the memo's last week." He looks into my eyes, and I see a sick pleasure taken from my shocked reaction. "Didn't you know?"

    I set my jaw, not wanting him to see how much the news has affected me. "Mine must have been misplaced." I say through clenched teeth, knowing full well that I didn't know because they didn't give me one. Auctions for employees are announced a week in advance, and Broots would have been freaked by it, so they must have chosen not to mention it to him either.

   Lyle's grin just gets wider and he rests his gloved hand on my shoulder in a concerned facade. I am repulsed by his touch, but manage to stand still. "Oh, don't fret sis. Your precious Broots had nearly thirteen different higher-ups bidding on him, including me. I'm sure your puppy went to a good home."

   It takes every amount of self-control I possess in me not to rip off his arm and bash in his skull with it. I'm about to respond, when the door to the office opens.

   All three of us look over to see who's entered.

   A mousy looking woman stands there, wearing glasses, a blouse, and a skirt that shouts Wal-mart clearance. She's holding to her chest a file filled with various papers and hanging loosely on her shoulder is a pathetic excuse for a purse. I wonder if she's Broots girlfriend.

   She gives a timid smile and for a moment I'm not entirely sure that she won't drop her things and run out of the room in a mad terror. But she manages to draw up what little courage she must have in that frail looking body and speaks.

   "H-Hi. Um, I was sent here by the director…he uh, he said that I'll be joining the um, team. I'm the new technician. My name's Marie." She sticks out a hand.

   Sydney shows a look of pity, and Lyle and I exchange a look that's part bafflement and amusement.

   Marie notices that no one will be shaking her hand and she lowers it and bites her lip.

   Poor girl, she's in for a rough ride.

   Lyle saunters up to her, that mischievous look in his eyes, and I have to keep from rolling mine. He steps right by her side. "So, you're the new tech huh?" he purrs.

   Marie flushes a shade of crimson, and she bites back a smile. "Mmhmm." Is all she manages to say as she wrings her hands.

   Lyle grins. "I think we'll get along just fine." He winks at me and then places his hands in his pockets as he begins walking out. "See you sis. "

    "See you bro." I say with a sickeningly sweet tone. I want to kill him. I want to kill him sooo badly.

   Marie watches him go, swooned already by my senseless twin's charm. I doubt she'd adore him if she found out he's sinned so much that if he stuck his hands in holy water he'd burn himself. But hey, I'll let the girl keep her dreams.

   The new tech turns back to me, the blush leaving slowly from her face. "You're brother and sister? You two must really be close huh?"

   My eye twitches and I have to keep from gagging. Sydney covers for me though telling her that my brother and I share a "special" relationship.

   I finally regain my composure, and begin processing what it was my twin told me. Broots has been fired from the pursuit team, he's been auctioned, to whom I don't know, and now I'm stuck with a schoolgirl geek who probably doesn't know the difference between lip gloss and lip stick. I hate Tuesdays.

   "So Ms. Parker," Marie says slowly, intimidated by all of the stories that float around about me. "Wh-What should I do first?"

   "Well since you obviously aren't going to leave, I suppose you better start hacking into the Centre mainframe."

   I'm not sure which comment surprises her more. But then the order I've given sinks in and she blanches.

   "Are you crazy?" she asks with wide, frightened eyes. "Hack into the Centre mainframe?"

   That's it. Time to get this girl to understand how I do things. I walk over to her, my eyes carrying tiny flames inside of them. With each step I take she backs up one, until she's up against the wall with a tiny bead of sweat on her forehead.

   "One; never call me crazy. The doc and me are most assuredly the only two people you are likely to meet here who are sane. Second; you work for me. You are now loyal only to me. That means that you listen to me only, not Lyle, not Raines, not even my father. You got that?" She gives a timid nod and I back up a step and fold my arms, allowing her a small space of breathing room. "Good. Now, what's the problem with breaking into the Centre mainframe?"

   She swallows and I tell with pleasure that she now understands her place in the hierarchy. I may have been tough on the rag doll, but better she learn it from me rather than my brother.

   "The, the problem with hacking into the…" she's obviously having trouble grasping the concept of someone asking her to break into the mainframe because she can't even seem to say the words.

   "The Centre mainframe?" I supply snidely.

   "Yes ma'm. The problem is that…I can't."

   "What do you mean, 'you can't'?"

   "I-I don't know how." She begins to cringe again my hand goes to my forehead as I feel another migraine coming on.

   "How can you not know how to hack into the mainframe? My last tech was able to do it within minutes." I growl at her, still trying to hold back the headache.

   She looks amazed at my comment. "Wow really? Gosh you must have had a really talented technician to be able to do that. I don't know any other techs here that can." Her eyes seem to sparkle. "I'd like to have met him…"

   I think I've just met Broots' soul mate.

   "Look, rag doll, I need to find someone. You were sent here to work with computers. Find them for me." My eyes narrow. "Now."

   She blinks. "But my job description said that I'm supposed to search for Jar-"

   My anger flares up. "Who do you work for?"

   "But I-"

   "Who. Do. You. Work. For?"

   She sighs. "You."

   "You're catching on. His name is Broots. He was my previous technician and he's just been auctioned off. Find out who he went to. Sydney and I are leaving. When we return, I expect results."

    She opens her mouth to protest but when I raise my eyebrow, she shuts up and then shuffles her way over to the computer.

   Sydney and I walk out and enter the hall.

   "Did you really have to be so harsh on the girl Ms. Parker? She's just learning how things work."

   I keep my steady stride, and don't even look at him as I answer. "And I was just teaching her Freud. Now, let's go. I swear if I have to tear up the sub levels searching for Broots then so be it." My eyes become fiery with determination and fury. "Like I've said before Sydney, he may be an idiot, but he's my idiot. And there's no way in hell, heaven, or earth that they're going to take him away from me."

9:15 AM, Tuesday

Just Leaving Nevada

On A Bus

(Lia)

Last night, I did something I hadn't planned on doing during my trip. I am different from others in many ways, but only two are truly important. I'd thought to try and keep both of them a secret while on my little journey, one because of embarrassment and the second out of need. I'd ended up telling Mr. Cox about one of them last night.

FLASHBACK 

"My name is Mr. Cox." He said, holding out his hand.

   It's such a simple gesture really, a way to greet someone, but it frightens me. Thoughts of worry run rampant in my mind. What should I do? Should I take his hand and shake it? Should I ignore it? Should I pretend to faint or something? I stare up at him, past his glasses into his eyes. He doesn't seem to have any ill feelings towards me, he just sees this as one stranger meeting another.

   I'm still racing to make a decision, and notice that he's furrowing his brow in confusement at my hesitation. I then make my choice and do the only thing I can to tell him of my secret.

   I sign to him.

   Yes, one of my secrets is that I'm mute. I keep it secret when I can out of a fear of people's reactions. I am afraid that I'll be seen as somehow sub human. This isn't paranoia; I've received the reaction before. I also have always feared that someone would take advantage of me because of it. While mothers usually warned their young children not to talk to strangers, I was warned not to show them I couldn't talk. My parents were always afraid that someone would try to kidnap or hurt me, because I couldn't scream for help. But the thing I think I've always feared above all else, that has always been the major factor when I decide to keep my muteness a secret, is fear of pity. I neither want nor deserve sympathy, and it pains me to no end to see others go as silent as I am once they find out. They never know how to respond, they become uncomfortable, they look at me and see a charity fund. But above all else, they leave. Such is the price of not having a voice. You'll have to forgive me if my decision to it a secret does not seem solidly based.

   Mr. Cox just stares at me a moment with wide eyes, then a slow smile creeps onto his face. He then does the most unpredictable thing he could do.

   He signs back.

   My mouth widens in shock. You know sign language?

   He nods. "Yes I do. One of the requirements of my job is to be multi-lingual. Sign language has always been an interesting form of communication." He then grins once more. "Now may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

   And I told him. And I began to talk with him, about meaningless things. The weather, sports, books, music, favorite foods and my thoughts of the future.

END FLASHBACK

You probably have no idea how much it meant to me that there was someone who could listen to what I had to say, to add and contribute upon my thoughts and feelings. I'd had my parents yes, but it had been hard for them to learn the language, and even then a teen needs someone they can tell things to besides their parents. Friends I made never really understood what I was signing, and most gave up on trying to learn. I'd signed with others like me in some of my segregated classes that had been for kids with a physical disability, but many times the conversations I had were depressing. The other thirteen year olds were many times bitter and too far-gone in self-pity and resentment to actually befriend me. For if they could not like themselves, how could they like someone else?

    I guess I'd been one of the lucky ones.

   So now, now that I'd met someone who could understand me clearly and concisely who was not put off by my muteness, I was elated. And when he told me that he was traveling to Los Angeles as well, and in the same area that I was heading to, I wondered if perhaps there was someone up above looking out for me.

9:17 AM, Tuesday

Jessup, Maryland

Woods Behind Astrea's home

(Astrea)

   I'm walking back to my house at the moment, thoroughly confused as to what happened, fearing that I may already know the answer, and trying to find a pretend that will keep me calm as I sort through my thoughts.

   I take on the pretend of a cat, and find that my mood is much more relaxed and my movement languid as I slowly move through the woods, following the scent of my previous travel to the tree.

   I have theories on what happened, and the one that I'm trying to avoid, but know that is probably true, is that my animal side is indeed getting stronger. How, that's the one thing I have no explanation for. I scratch behind my ear as I ponder the predicament and then stop walking.

   Odd, do my ears feel longer than normal?

   I slowly lower my hand. No, it couldn't be. There's no reason that- then I see my hand, and my eyes nearly bulge out of my sockets. My pretend forgotten, I look at my legs, my belly, my arm, and notice the exact same thing on all of them.

   Lightly, very lightly, is a pattern upon my once flawless pale skin.

   Stripes.

   Very light and hardly noticeable tiger-style stripes.

   Oh S--t.

   I begin running towards my house, forgetting the previous desire I had to stay calm. There was no time to stay calm. There's only one way that those patterns could be there, and I need to contact Jarod immediately.

   Pronto.

   ASAP.

   Now.

   I make it to the house and about to fling open the door when a strange scent enters my nose. I freeze immediately, and my body tenses. A low and dangerous growl rises in the back of my throat.

   There is someone in my home.

   I carefully and methodically stalk towards the door. If it's a Centre sweeper, they're going to wish that they hadn't been assigned to this house.

   I push open the door cautiously and when I spot a man standing in the middle of the hallway I am taken over by my transformation. I run at him, and tackle him to the ground while he lets out a surprised squeak. I'm now sitting on top of him, my arms pinning him down.

   "All right who sent you her-" I stop and then realize that he's not a sweeper. He has brown hair, neatly combed, wide scared chestnut eyes, a strong chin, and is wearing glasses, slacks, and a green sweater.

   As my mouth gapes open he gives a small, nervous smile. "Erm, hello there."

   I blink.

   He wets his lips. "Would you be so terribly kind as to get off of me now?"

10:26 PM, Tuesday

Blue Cove, Delaware

The Centre

Raines Office

(Broots)

 I gaze around the room where I'm working in sorrow. Ever since yesterday things have been getting progressively worse.

   Surprise, surprise.

   It still seems like a horrible nightmare at times, but I'm reminded of its reality every time Raines enters the room. I think the scariest periods I've experienced at the Centre have been whenever I was in the presence of Raines or Lyle. I went out of my way to avoid them, to remain invisible to their sight. They frightened me to no end, and still do for that matter.

   Only now it's ten times worse.

   I have to work for one of them.

   In their private office.

   And no one can save me.

   I had to contact an old friend of mine yesterday, out of necessity. I'd just become situated, and Mr. Raines had wheeled in, accompanied by Willie. Willie and I have never really had any problem with each other, heck, I'm not sure we've ever exchanged a complete sentence. But I think he respects me, in some weird way, for my friendship with Astrea, and how I've managed to stay alive working for the Centre for so long. When he came in with Raines, the sweeper had given me a brief look of pity, even understanding. It had felt like an odd welcoming of one inmate to another. Which it should have been if you think about it.

   After all, we're both in the same boat now.

   So Raines had come in, and told me very simply what was going to happen. And I couldn't help but feel like the words he said were an epitaph. In an almost twisted form of irony, his words were vaguely the same words that Ms. Parker had said during the first meeting I had or so with her.

    "You are loyal to me, and to me only. Your life is in my hands, and should I want to I can take it away from you. Your allegiance to me will last so long as you work here, and I have no doubt that it will be for a very, very long time."

   I had wondered briefly if anyone else had felt the chill in the room.

   Then he'd told me the basics. I would work in his office, in his plain view of sight. I would create encoding programs, algorithms, security programs, and from time to time he'd have me search for and retrieve data off of the mainframe and such. I was also not to contact anyone without his permission while in the Centre, and he'd told me so ominously that he'd know if I did. The last thing he'd told me told me, was that my work hours were from seven in the morning, until he saw fit.

   I'd protested against this, though meekly, and told him that I had a daughter who would need to be watched and looked after, and that those hours would be hard for any babysitter to work under.

   He'd glared at me for a moment, angry I think at the mere fact that I'd speak against an order of his, but then he'd smiled, and that small, almost insignificant expression, had froze my very soul.

    "If you can't find a sitter for your charming fourteen-year old daughter Debbie, Mr. Broots, then I am certain that I could find someone to watch over her here at the Centre. Perhaps someone who works below in the sub-levels. They usually have a lot of time on their hands, and would love a change of pace."

   It had been more terrifying in that moment than when I'd first been told of my new job. I'd understood, with sickening clarity, what every implication and hidden message in his words had been. They knew all about my daughter, just as they knew all about me. And if he had to he would make it so that she'd remain in the sublevels from the time she got home from school until the time my work was over.

   And she'd be watched over by his people.

   That in itself had been enough to scare me into calling up a high school buddy, and beg him to watch Debbie until I could come up with an alternate solution.

   I think that I'll be thanking the lord until the day I die that he'd said yes.

   I spin my chair around slightly, gazing past Raines large desk that is only three feet away from my small desk and computer set up, as I hear the door opening. When I hear the squeaking of wheels however, I turn around so fast that for a millisecond the world is a blur.

   I begin busily typing once more, focusing on the code sequence for a program that he's requested, and try to ignore the sounds of his footsteps as they walk to my corner steadily. My hands begin to shake and I accidentally hit a wrong key. I delete the mistake and struggle to maintain my composure as I resume the sequence, but every muscle in my body tenses and every motion I make freezes, when Raines lays his hand upon my quivering shoulder.

   After what seems like an eternity of struggle, I manage to will myself to turn around and face him.

   I stare up at him, at his cold cruel eyes, his grim expression, and I am forced to lower my gaze as I force out a submissive, "what is it sir?"

   He simply hands me a paper and I take it from him wordlessly. I then scan the information speedily, and my eyes widen.

   "Y-You want me to create a cipher with a 132 bit strength? That's, that's nearly impossible. The NSA's best encryption people have bits that only go up to about 126, and they have teams that work on that kind of stuff! It'd be unattainable for any single code writer. "

   "But perfectly doable for you Mr. Broots." He raises a hand to stop my objections. "Do not try to deny it. We have evidence of codes near that strength that you have created for Ms. Parker." He turns. "I'll expect it by tomorrow night."

   "B-But sir this will take hours upon hours of work!" I cry in near desperation.

   He turns slightly. "Then I suppose it is lucky for you that you have the opportunity to work on it all night and into the morning should you need to."

   My mouth is clamped shut and my eyes are large as I watch him go. I sit in a stunned silence as the sweeper opens the door for him, and then closes it after they're through. I'm aware of the faint sound of clicking, and then realize that he's locked the door. 

   I sit there a moment longer, comprehending that this is one more night that I have to spend away from my daughter, one more night that I am to give up sleep, one more night that I will spend working to meet the demands of a demon.

   I am locked in, and the door was shut before my hope could fully enter the room.

   I'm beginning to understand why Astrea always wanted to be ignored at the Centre.

   I'm beginning to understand what Jarod felt when locked in the sublevels.

   I'm beginning to understand the true meaning of hell.

   And the painful understanding of it all brings tears to my eyes that, like everything else it seems, I am powerless to stop as I turn around slowly and go back to work.

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Sorry to those of you who were expecting more humor on Broots' part, but I need to get across how utterly frightening it is for him to have to work under Raines without the protection that Ms. Parker once gave him. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and eagerly await any feedback that you might give me.

   ---talk to you later!