Title: Core of all Lies
Spoilers: Well, not this chapter, but "Mad to be Saved" for later :D
Disclaimer: Yes, there all mind! :K Mah, wish it were so, but it isn't. Only Trish is truly made from the creepiness that is my mind ;)
Authors Notes: Shoot, I forgot to mention, for those who didn't catch it Harper and Beka were healing because the Dragons had healed him. Why? So they wouldn't die, of course! I mean, Harper was shot and had the ceiling fall on him. He wouldn't have lasted very long O.o So, sorry for not making that clearer, that was my bad O.o;; Also, sorry for the short chapter X.x And thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, you guys rock! :D Keep them coming, the more there are the more quicker the update'll probably be :3
His head pounded. Throbbing so violently he wanted to wretch. He gritted his teeth, taking in forced breaths which only served to help add to the pain stabbing through his skull. He tried to remember what had happened, searched deep through his mind for the answer. He felt so tired, so weak. His throat felt raw, and his head felt ready to explode.
A soft moan escaped him and his head gave a sharp sting of protest. He winced and tried again to search the darkness of his mind. Trish…He had left her, just two days before. He had paid back his debt to her. His head gave another hard throb. Despite the horrible pain, he strained to remember. She had given him an old very small ship to have to travel. Someone was firing on him. People…appeared in his ship. Suddenly it felt like his skull was a lit with a wave of flames and he tried to cry out, only managing a croaked cough.
He cracked his eyes open, his breathing labored, and found there to be someone above him. He also found out that he was bond down to some kind of examination table. Three long metal bands stretched over his waist, legs, and chest. He returned his blurred gaze to the person before him, who wore a black cloak which concealed his face and hands that were held limply at his side. He looked down to him, but still Harper couldn't make out his face.
"Who the heck are you?" He demanded gratingly, slightly surprised to find his voice sounding so cracked and sore.
"I'm really sorry I had to do that to you Shay." The man before him replied honestly, a hint of sorrow held in it. Harper stared at him in disbelief.
"What?" He demanded breathlessly, his voice still croaked and his head still pounding dangerously. Only few had called him Shay when he was a kid, and they were all dead. Brandon, his cousins; no one else knew about that.
"I had to." He paused and shook his head regretfully. "You're the only one I trust." He continued almost chuckling. Harper continued to stare at him, bewildered. He…he recognized that voice. But from where?
"Who are you?" Harper demanded again, his voice continuing to hold disbelief to it.
"I don't have much time to explain why I did it…you'll be out of it for a while. People will hunt you for it, they hunt me for it. They'll torture you; they'll try everything to get it from you. But I've hidden it well. You won't even know what it is until you are forced to remember it. Even then, no one can look at it but you. But listen to me Shay, don't trust anyone. Don't talk to anyone. Especially not you're…friends." Harper couldn't help but notice the note of hate that was held within that one word, "friends". "I've messed up pretty bad in trying to fix things; in fact everything's going horribly wrong. I tried to prevent this, and now it's happening. Just remember, when you do remember, don't tell anyone. No matter what, don't tell anyone. Not Trish, not Beka, especially not Beka." He warned, his voice again holding a hint of bitterness when mentioning Beka's name.
"Yea, what exactly did you do to me?" He scowled, trying to feel anger at this man who obviously hated his friends, but still had the nagging feeling like he knew the person before him so well.
"Gave you a gift." He told him simply. "Shay, just please, don't let anyone know." He whispered. Harper gave a cold laugh which broke into a fit of dry coughs. His head reeled with utter pain and this time he did wretch, barley able to move his head to the side of the table. The man waited before he returned his bitter gaze to him, shaking violently and feeling even more drained then before.
"Yea, and why would I trust you?" He croaked, breathing heavily and glaring up at him. The man revealed his hands and Harper noticed immediately that there were rows and rows of scars that ran deeply on them; even chunks of his hands missing. He pulled down his hood and revealed his dirty blond hair, cold, dead blue eyes, and scars running like spider webs across his face. He had a metal mask fussed in half of his face, but Harper recognized him. It was hard not to. He gaped at him, feeling utterly shocked. The man gave a small smile.
"Because, Shay, I know more about the future then you ever will." He replied, his icy blue eyes looking directly into Harper's own.
Harper was vaguely aware of being dragged through the halls. He felt the pain from his leg shoot up it every time he took a step, knew he should be scared for what was ahead, knew he should be at least nervous. He knew that he had something they wanted, and knew they would do anything to get it. He should be afraid. He should be wary of what was ahead. But somehow, somehow he wasn't. He didn't feel anything through the suffocating fog surrounding him.
Some small part of him cried out to him to fight the fog, to feel something, anything, and yet he ignored it. It didn't seem like anything mattered. He was dead. His hope, his trust, his life had been shattered and he made no effort in trying to repair what little was left.
Tridan glowered down at him, a look of furry flashing briefly across his face.
"You've caused us too much trouble over the year, kludge." The Neit seethed coldly, but suddenly a twisted smile spread across his face. "You'll beg us to kill you when this is over." He told him. Harper stared at the floor blankly, the fear he would have expected to stir within him nonexistent.
Tridan stopped suddenly and Harper glanced up to see a door. It slid open and Tridan shoved him inside, where he collapsed due to a sudden spike from the pain in his leg. He took in deep, uneven breaths and looked upward. A large Neitchian scowled at him, a look of cold amusement across his face. Kavalsk.
"Get him into the machine." Kavalsk ordered. Tridan roughly grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him to his feet before thrusting him into what might have been a chair. It was large and metallic, its top curving over into an almost a half circle where what appeared to be a laser was attached to it. Cold metallic bands lay waiting to restrain him.
His eyes watered as his body slammed against the cold back of the chair and pain spiked through his body. For a moment spots clouded his vision, before clearing enough so he could realize that the cold restraints had clamped closed around his wrists and legs and forehead. He looked up to see an eager, amused smirk across Kavalsk's face.
"No matter your efforts kludge, we will get what we want." He growled. Under normal circumstances Harper was sure he would point out that neither of them really knew what it was that Kavalsk wanted, but again the thought dissipated into nothing. Harper didn't bother to look at him, staring instead to the wall behind him, not really seeing it.
A part of him was now screaming for him to snap out of it. To realize just what was about to happen. His brain was going to be searched for that information, and they were going to try and extract from his mind. He knew this, knew it might very well be the most painful thing he's ever felt, and yet felt nothing. He did not respond to the cry from the back of his mind. He knew what was coming, and somehow didn't care.
A woman in a white suit came around the other side, fidgeting nervously with a flexi, her face pale and nervous. Her blond hair was wrapped in a bun in the back of her head and her brown eyes rested on Harper with an agitated look. He looked up to her for a brief moment, but she turned away, shame clear across her face. Without making eye contact with him she ran her hands across a control panel. The gems and lights at the bottom of the curve in the chair began to glow, emitting a small hum. Kavalsk gave him one last twisted smirk, before nodding to her.
"Let's begin." He ordered.
Trish stared at Beka, opened mouthed. She hadn't been able to fully comprehend her presence, even after the door clanged close. But then suddenly her shock dissipated, replaced only with the consuming loathing that had leapt on her so suddenly. It blinded her, consumed her; it was the more strong than anything she could ever remember feeling. And all at once she gave out a cry of furry and lunged at her.
"YOU-YOU WICKED, HORRIBLE, WORTHLESS CREATURE!" She roared, thrusting her fists down on her. Beka had obviously not been expecting this; she was thrown off her feet and the two slammed against the wall; Trish punching, swiping, doing anything to hurt her. "How could you?!? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HIM!" She cried furiously, her face red with anger, tears spilling freely from her eyes, and her knuckles sore. Beka cried out and struggled with her, before managing to shove her momentarily off of her.
Trish didn't pause to see how badly Beka was hurt or to hear what she had to say. She didn't even allow her to catch her breath. She was on top of her again within moments, hurting every bit of her she could. She wasn't aware of the crimson caked across her knuckles, or Beka's attempts in retaliating, she just didn't care. She wanted to make Beka feel as much pain as she could possibly manage; she wanted Beka Valentine to suffer.
Suddenly, with a force surprisingly strong, Trish was again thrust off her. She fell to the ground and Beka struggled to her feet, gasping for breath. The wound from her stomach had been reopened, spilling blood everywhere. Bruises were already showing themselves in the swollen parts of her face; cuts and slashes stretched over her face, legs and arm, and she was shaking violently. Her glove had been torn on her other arm, showing specks of metal beneath it and she was drenched with sweat. Trish leapt to her feet, preparing again to lunge at her.
"You broke him." Trish said in barley a whisper, her voice flowing with hate. "Through everything he's been through, you broke him." She hissed furiously, her nails digging deeply into her clenched fists. Beka stared at him, horror suddenly crossing her features. Anger spiked within her at this. That woman had no right to feel sorry; not after what she had done. Not after what she had said.
Grief, horror and what was unmistakably hopelessness crossed her face and she shook her head wordlessly. Trish felt the urge again to bring pain to Beka, more consuming then before.
"You know what he's suffered through in his life?! DO YOU?! Do you know how much he loved you?! You were the world to him!! AND YOU BROKE HIM!" She shrieked. Beka winced visibly and collapsed against the wall, tears now pouring freely from her eyes.
Trish panted heavily through her gritted teeth, but though loathing consumed her she did not move. She felt like screaming, felt like breaking the woman like she had broke Harper. But she didn't move, staring; hate radiating from her at Beka.
And suddenly it happened. Trish might have lunged at Beka, might have killed her if it hadn't been for what happened. Trish stared, absolutely terrified at the hall outside, frozen to the spot. Screams echoed across the hall, ringing through out it. The sound caused all breath to leave Trish, caused her to forget completely about Beka who lay, horror struck much like her at her feet.
"Harper." Trish gasped.
It was like pain he had never felt before. It felt like he was being torn to pieces, was on fire, it felt like a he was being eaten alive, but so much worse. He could hear nothing; his ears were deaf from the pain, his eyes blinded from it. All he knew was it, all he could feel was his every nerve screaming out, begging for it to stop. It continued on and on, only growing worse by the moment and he could do nothing to shield himself from it.
Dylan walked through the halls, his hand on Trance's shoulder. The two were making their way through them, trying to find Tyr. Andromeda was still dead and Dylan's uneasiness of this grew worse by the moment. Tears still tracked down Trance's face, but she was no longer sobbing, she no longer held the look of helpless horror she had just hours before.
"I think we should go this way." She whispered suddenly, pausing at a hallway. Dylan nodded silently and the two headed down it with only their footsteps ringing about them for comfort.
They walked in silence, never mentioning Beka or Harper. Dylan didn't know how he could tell Trance that Harper had been another clone. He had seen that girl walk through that wall; knew unmistakably that they had again been fooled. He hated to think about loading Trance with this information, though couldn't even be sure if she already knew.
"Tyr!" Trance cried and Dylan looked up to see Tyr lying, unmoving on the floor ahead of them. Trance raced ahead, falling down beside him and quickly looking him over. Dylan jogged over to them, pausing when Trance looked to him.
"He's alright. It looks like he was knocked out by being thrown into a wall." She told him quietly. "We should probably get him to Medical anyways." She continued and stood up. Dylan nodded, looking down at him.
"You're sure he's alright?" He asked, looked up to her. He really felt no need to ask, but needed the reassurance. She nodded and he knelt down beside Tyr.
"Tyr. Tyr, wake up." He tried, shaking him slightly.
"Why am I on Andromeda's floor?" Tyr growled without opening his eyes.
"You were knocked out." Trance supplied wearily. He opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet.
"Must have hit the wall, Tyr." Dylan told him and also got to his feet. Tyr glared at him, but the look was short lived.
"The girl?" He questioned, looking at Dylan.
"Taken. Both of them, by Neitchains." He told him. Trance looked in between them, suddenly looking scared.
"What? What are you talking about Dylan?" She asked nervously, her eyes fixed to him.
"You didn't tell her?" Tyr asked, glancing toward Trance. Dylan hesitantly shook his head. "Girl…I'm sorry to say this, but that was another clone working for the Abyss." He told her. For a moment she looked shocked, but shook her head.
"No, Dylan, he was the real-" She started in disbelief. Dylan again rested a hand on her shoulder, his brow furrowed with worry and his face crestfallen.
"The girl who he was with walked through the walls, Trance." He said softly. "The two worked for the Abyss." Trance shook her head, looking grief stricken.
"It…he…" She started desperately, looking between them. Her eyes again glimmered with tears which spilled down her cheeks. "I was so sure." She whispered helplessly. Tyr was even giving Trance a concerned look as the tears left her.
"Dylan?" Dylan turned around and saw the most beautiful thing he had seen in quiet a while. Andromeda's glimmering form gave him a confused look, but then worry crossed her features when her eyes fell on Trance. "Captain, what's happened?" She asked.
"Andromeda." Dylan sighed, a small amount of relief filling him. "Lots has happened. Where's Beka?" He asked, what small relief that had been with him suddenly vanished. Andromeda frowned and paused.
"She's not on the ship…" She said slowly, concern creeping again into her words. All three looked up to her at this. "I have no idea where she is." Andromeda admitted.
Beka wasn't sure how long it had been. It felt like eternity since they had first heard Harper's screams. They tore what little was left of her to shreds, leaving her previously broken heart to shards.
Trish had been trying this entire time to get through the cell, though Beka wasn't sure what she was doing. She didn't spare a thought for it though, concentrating solely on what they were doing to Harper…to what she had done to him.
Trish threw herself again and again at the bars, each time letting out a cry of pain herself and collapsing to her knees. Beka had buried her head in her knees, hating herself. She had done this to him. This was the thought that currently consumed her, sending waves of tears to flow down her cheeks. She had done this to him.
Harper never got used to the pain and it never got better. In fact it seemed to continue to grow worse, maximizing every moment he was there. Every nerve, every part of him was consumed by flames, by needles, by acid. But then just as he was sure his head would explode, without warning his vision exploded into light. A sensation, one other than pain, suddenly flew through him; unlike anything he had ever imagined before. It was breathtaking, was consuming his very being.
Suddenly he could not only see the people in the room before him, but feel them. He could feel Tridan's beating heart, could see it, he could feel the life within him. He could taste the air around him, could feel the colors of the room. But the overwhelming feeling didn't stop there. He could suddenly see a million miles away; could feel the stars as his gaze swept past them. He saw a planet, felt the planet, and another realization hit him. He could not only see it, but manipulate it.
With a single thought clouds began to gather over the surface of the planet, sweeping for miles across it and for a moment a feeling, an emotion finally swept through him. He was in complete awe.
But then he was ripped away from the planet, the stars, to find himself staring again to the room, but this time he could not feel it. He was suddenly aware that sobs were escaping him, tears flowing freely from his eyes and that he was soaked in sweat. Pain continued to radiate from him, though he was vaguely aware that the machine had been turned off.
"What?!" Harper struggled to stay conscious as he looked over to where Kavalsk was. The woman in the white coat looked a bit angry and was gesturing at the equipment before her.
"I don't know. I can't help it if we can't extract it!" She retorted. Kavalsk looked ready to murder her, his eyes flaring dangerously.
"How do we get it, then?" He snarled. She glanced up to him.
"I've been able to find what you want, but it's impossible to extract. It was basically downloaded into him, but whoever did it, did it so it's impossible to get at it." She explained.
"Answer the question!" He snapped furiously. She hesitated, setting her flexi down.
"He's the only one who knows what it is." She explained. "And the only way for you to know is if he told you." She said crossly. Kavalsk's eyes suddenly turned to fix dangerously on Harper who suddenly found there to be what felt like a rock to sink within him. He had known what was coming even before the woman had tried to explain it to Kavalsk. He vaguely remembered being told about that.
Kavalsk ran his hand across the panel and Harper's restraints released him. He fell limp, taking in shaky breaths; tears still running down his cheeks. Kavalsk then stormed toward him and grabbed him by his shirt, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Harper's.
"I told you kludge, we will get what we want. One way or another." He snarled quietly. Harper shut his eyes at this, feeling a sudden sense of dread for what he knew to be coming.