(Fifteen)

Zander rose eventually from the stone locker room floor. He got up stiffly and washed his face again, trying to recover. He had work to do and he was already late. He walked in a daze out into the hallways of Clan Station nine and into the training room, the invisible Remy and Kimble ghosts in tow. Zander kept his face partially covered with one hand, hoping no one would notice he'd been struck. He came into the training room and hesitated, he had glimpsed Justin and Bruce arguing all the way in the back. Bruce hadn't seen him come in and Zander didn't want him to.

Zander quickly went to his work area, a place set aside for the Siskans with their power cubes, and crouched down, putting his things in order. He was about to charge himself on the cubes in hopes of repairing the injury to his face, but froze as a shadow passed over him.

"You're late again!" his new handler complained. Before he could respond, Zander was lashed with a sharp crack of a whip.

Zander, Remy and Kimble all cried out simultaneously. Gambit and Kimble had been standing close by and they both fell to their knees. All three of them felt the bite and sting of the lash, but for Zander it was much worse. The blow from the lash did not cut him, that was not its intent, but he felt a sharp pain as something broke deep inside. He squeezed his eyes shut holding back the tears that sprang instantly to his eyes. He covered his ears and shivered, looking so much like Seth at that moment. He was very close to shutting down.

"You best get your act together, you stupid 'gram," his handler continued. "I won't keep putting up with your crap. I'll have you shut down, I swear it! This is your last warning!" The man kicked him and walked away without further comment. At one point in their lives, all Clansmen were beaten, that was just their way of life. He didn't need to be told that his blow had hurt Zander deeply.

"You okay?" Kimble asked Remy, reaching out again.

Gambit couldn't answer. He was going into shock and almost shutting down himself. He couldn't possibly take this for much longer, not hit after hit, emotional bomb after emotional bomb. It was like being sucker punched by an invisible foe and not even close to a fair fight. His hands had cupped over his ears just as Zander had done in an attempt to block out the worst of this.

Kimble slid an arm around him and began to repeat all his empty, useless apologies. He knew there was nothing he could do to make this any better, it was all too much for anyone to bear. Kimble felt horrible because Remy wasn't supposed to be here and was feeling quite a bit more than Kimble wanted him to. This should be his personal nightmare, not Remy's, too. It wasn't fair and Kimble told him so. Gambit said nothing in reply, but put his hand over Kimble's to at least let him know he was being heard and that his attempt to comfort him was appreciated.

Meanwhile, Zander had reached out and lay his trembling hands on two black cubes nearby. Power from the cubes seeped into him and removed the visible signs of that day's abuse. They didn't take away all of the pain, nothing ever would, but he needed to power up to work. He closed his eyes and tried to regain control.

Remy felt the instant relief from the power cubes and let go of his pain in one long breath. He felt much better, like someone had splashed him with cold water. He was reviving and was coming around out of his shock. It was enough to help him ease back into the role of observer and gave him hope that he might yet find a way out of this. He stayed down on his knees, comfortable for what this was, and took in the sounds and sights of the room.

A group of Clansmen men had entered close to him and they were boisterous and loud, discussing an event that had happened earlier in the week. One man was talking, saying, "So they drag her in, all hissin' an' spittin', this little tiny pilot. Man, I've never seen anything like her. She's fightin' an' flappin' her wings all around. She slashed Jaska right across the face. You shoulda heard him squeal!"

The men laughed and he continued. "So in walks Valentin, all tough like, you know? He hears they're gonna kill her, right? He says 'What a stupid fuckin' waste,' and goes right up to her. He grabs her face and she spits tight in his eye."

One of the men groaned humorously, covering his face.

"Wait - Wait! Get this. He hits her...and she doesn't fall. She's like a third of his size, right? She doesn't fall. Just stands there and laughs at him like she's fuckin' crazy or something. I've never seen anything like it, I swear. You know what he does? He just holds her face and looks her right in the eyes. Just stares at her and she don't move. They're lookin' at each other, into each other like they can read their minds or somethin'. Than he just laughs and leads her away. She's following him like a dog that's been trained all its life. I've never seen anything like it," the speaker repeated, awestruck.

"You've got to get some new stories," Valentin said, walking in.

Zander opened his eyes. Valentin was behind him, his first client of the day.

(break)

"You okay, Fallen?" Seth asked, his voice shaking with emotion. He hadn't been prepared for Valentin's appearance.

"I'll be all right," she whispered softly.

"Well, I'll be damned," Valentin whispered. He had forgotten all about meeting Zander before. He vaguely recalled the incident, but not what had preceded it.

"Figures you wouldn't remember," Bruce sneered with a confidence unusual for him. His bitterness and guilt were making him bold. "You're just as much to blame as me, maybe even more. He was just another victim on your casualty list. You have no idea how many people you've hurt or killed, do you? You just go about your day, spreading your pain, and then you move on. You're just as bad as the Dognan, if not worse. At least they've got a reason for what they do. What's your excuse?"

Valentin didn't speak but lashed out at Bruce with his feet. It hurt for him to move, but he didn't care. He growled in agony as Henry shoved him back.

"That'll be enough of that," Henry warned. "You guys settle down. We've all seen enough fighting over stupid things. What's done is done. We'll just have to deal with it - like civilized men."

"There isn't anything civilized about Valentin," Bruce snarled. "He's nothing but a big bully and an asshole. Just watch."

(break)

Zander stood slowly and faced Valentin.

"Who's this?" Valentin sneered.

"This is Zander," one of Valentin's buddies said. "He's the best Siskan we got for practice. I reserved him for you. He's supposed to be pretty tough."

Valentin inspected Zander with doubt. "He looks kind of soft and pretty to me."

Zander looked up at him expressionless and said nothing. This is what he was here for after all, a target to be used for practice. He was here to work and Valentin was just another Clansman to him. He opened his arms in invitation and the two men adopted stances. In the training room, the inhibitors didn't work and Zander was free to act. It wouldn't do for the target to simply stand there after all, he was there to spar and spar they did.

Zander was very skilled. In this new incarnation, he possessed a large number of fighting files and knew them well. The Clan programmers had crammed him full of files for hand to hand combat, sword fighting and bow shooting. Zander accessed those files automatically, giving them no thought, and tossed Valentin about easily. Zander never boasted, never said a word. He was dull and empty inside, but his moves were flawless. He was still the perfectionist and more than a match for this opponent. He felt every blow, but returned each one in kind. Valentin grew angry, his rage making it that much easier for Zander to maneuver.

(break)

Logan wasn't watching Valentin on the screen, he was looking past him to the mirror that was on the back wall. He could see Zander clearly. Zander was nimble and sure, almost dancing as he moved. He was fluid and smooth. It was like watching Remy at work, that cat like grace where his feet never seemed to touch the ground.

Logan would never admit it to Gambit's face, but he thought Gambit was beautiful to watch. He was acrobatic and feline as he would move around his opponents, dazzling them with his mouth as easily as his fists. No one could touch him because he was just too damn fast. He always had his next move planned. He never seemed to be taken by surprise from anything his target did. That was Zander now. The only difference was, Zander had no love for this craft. He was as good as he was because of the files and he had been a dancer. He knew his body well and was in control of his every movement. He was flexible and strong, but not a bruiser like Logan. He found no thrill in this.

One thing Wolverine did acknowledge with caution. Zander was quiet and the quiet ones were the most dangerous. Sloppy fighters were always running their mouths off, telegraphing their intentions. Zander didn't do that. He was ice cold and relentless as he circled Valentin like prey, a machine now in every sense of the word. He gave the big man no outs and wore him down just as Wolverine would have done. Zander was smooth, skilled, and calculating on the mat. Logan prayed silently that Kimble would not retain any of Zander's fighting skill just from watching the file.

"Why can't Kimble fight like this now?" Maylee asked Fallen who still held her close.

"They took the files from him when he was broken," Fallen replied. "They took those files and tore his memory apart so he wouldn't be like that ever again."

(break)

Zander continued to outpace Valentin until the large man ran out of steam. Down and down Valentin went. He was still young and hadn't the fighting skills he possessed today. Zander flipped him over his shoulder like a huge rag doll and stepped back without comment. Valentin lay on the mat, his sides heaving. Zander offered his hand to help him up and Valentin took it.

On the way up he hissed in Zander's ear, "I heard all you Siskan pretty boys're queer. Just because you beat me doesn't give you the right to follow me around. You even think about comin' on to me, I'll rip you limb from limb!" The threat was sincere. To make his point, he crushed Zander's hand in his own. If Zander had possessed real bones, at least one of them would surely have broken.

Zander's body, tuned to absorb the gentlest loving touch, shot the slivers of agony all up and down his arm. The same programming codes that allowed him to feel every nuance and vibration from a lover, forced him now to feel the hate and damage caused by a physical assault. An invisible, silent bomb went off in his belly, filling his guts with shreds of glass. He couldn't stop the squeal of pain that came from his mouth. Valentin raised his fist and Zander cowered. The hate and loathing vibrations coming from Valentin's body flooded his senses, choking him like poison gas. His belly heaved but he was determined not to give Valentin the satisfaction of watching him puke right here at his feet. This was just Valentin establishing his dominance. He had to save face after being beaten so easily.

Zander gave obeisance, laying himself flat on his hands and knees. He knew his place in the Clan was less than the dirt on Valentin's boots. It was beaten and kicked and whipped into him day after day and he knew it well. His hand ached horribly and he curled it under himself with a whimper. Valentin laughed and walked away, satisfied. He left with the gang and never saw Zander again until he was here watching these files on the Lucky Dragon.

Zander crawled back to the cubes and lay his hands on them, but they did nothing for him anymore. The real damage was deep inside where a power cube could never reach. He was shaking now, badly. He had reached his end. The bomb was made, the timer activated. All that remained was the actual explosion. It wouldn't be long in coming.

Meanwhile, Remy was still on his knees. His recess from the pain and shock of Kimble's life was over and he was back in his well of never ending suffering. His eyes had glazed over as he gripped his hand tightly. Like before when the pleasure had been too much, Remy gave up and let himself get swallowed by the pain and misery. He had been unprepared for the painful vibrations that had come from Valentin. He had never felt malice and hatred come at him like that before and it was worse than the heavy blow from Justin's fists. It was as good as a weapon, like a choking poison gas. Kimble was there for him again, but he couldn't really feel it. He was going numb like a drowning man with no hope of rescue, his body beginning to shut down again. He was at his end.

Kimble pulled Remy against him again, gripping him tightly. He was going numb himself. He watched the unfolding horror dispassionately, knowing that the end was just about here. "Jus' close yer eyes, Remy. It's almost over," he promised like a mother would to her child right before the runaway plane would crash and burn them all.

A man cleared his throat behind Zander, an unspoken demand that the Siskan rise in spite of the fact that he was clearly struggling. Zander looked behind him to see his next opponent, seeing the Clansman only in a fog of red. Zander nodded weakly and rose to face him. He knew this man. He was new and inexperienced, no challenge here. Zander didn't even try to really spar with him, he had nothing left. Still, he wrestled the man down easily, feeling him squirm uselessly below him. An evil laugh trickled from Zander's mouth as his lips pulled back in an angry sneer, the man's struggles had aroused him.

The Clansman knew it. He wasn't happy about it and said something mean, jerking his body in an attempt to unhorse the Siskan who had him pinned. This last vibration of hate was all it took to finish Zander. He barely felt the white hot blast of pent up rage that took him over and then blinded him. He would punish this man, he would punish them all for everything he'd been forced to put up and endure. In one smooth movement, he grabbed the man's head and twisted it violently, snapping his neck with a loud, sickening crack.

(break)

"Oh, Kimble..." Fallen breathed as she watched this, stunned. "Oh, no!"

(break)

His head suddenly clear, Zander stood over the murdered Clansman, shocked and horrified by what he'd just done. This wasn't supposed to happen. Wasn't supposed to be possible. The Siskans may have been decadent and promiscuous, but they were peaceful and lent this trait to all of their products. The Clan hadn't needed to install a no-kill file, it was built in when Kimble had been made. Zander looked up as the room grew quiet. The sound of those bones breaking was like a gunshot in here, everyone knew what it had been. They were all looking at him now in suspicion, cutting into him with their hate and loathing.

Zander's vision slowly turned red again.

He didn't care. He wanted what the Dognan slavers had stolen from him. He wanted nothing more than the sweet release of Death. He wanted Sheyman to come and take his pain and he no longer cared what he had to do to make that happen.

Zander put his hands up in surrender, but was ready when the first man came at him with a sword. There was a brief bloody fight and when the dust settled, Zander stood in a pool of bright red blood holding the dripping weapon, his opponent ripped and bleeding below him.

He threw his head back and howled, filled with the power to act and the thrill of the kill. He raised the man's sword and charged the crowd, his mind gone. All sense of who he was or who he had been before was gone, washed away in a river of blood and hatred. He had the files to kill, maim, and disable, and used them with cruel efficiency, killing whoever came in his way. It didn't take him long to discover a system that worked best for him, he held a broadsword in one hand, a dagger in the other, moving with the deadly grace Wolverine had always feared, a graceful dancer of death. He was not only stronger than these humans, he was also quite a bit faster. Moving with preternatural speed, he was mowing them down like a threshing machine.

He was moving with a singular purpose - death by Clansmen - but wasn't approaching that without guile. He was making steady progress towards the back of the room and away from the safety of the door. He was growing ever closer to where Bruce and Justin stood at the back of the room. If he was going to go out with a bang, he might as well punish those who had inspired this in the first place.

Zander was too much in his fury to react to the sight of the blood and gore all around him, this version of Kimble had no revulsion at the sight of torn flesh and flying body parts. No, it only inspired him to continue and he soon had a pile of carnage at his feet, a wall of at least ten hacked and dismembered men down of him, before Justin was able to grab a bow and find an opportunity to fire a shot into the raging Siskan. The large black arrow took hold of Zander in the chest, a perfect heart shot if he'd had one. The pain brought a renewed frenzy to Zander's will and he charged all the harder, but the shot cost him. He missed a step in his elegant stride and someone behind him used it as an opportunity to breach his defenses, running him straight through the middle with a large sword.

If Zander thought he knew what pain was, he was sadly mistaken. The sword that impaled him like a spike not only brought a new definition of pain and suffering, it also brought with it a sudden return to reality. The red cloud was gone, the savage spirit that fueled it was gone. He slid a little on his feet as gel oozed out from the blade stuck in his guts and dribbled down his legs to the floor. It smoked as it left him, so much cooler than the air that it was misting and not quite shimmering away so quickly.

The Clansmen stood in a circle around him, waiting to see if he was going to fall now or fight, the whole incident as bewildering to them as it was to Zander. The Siskan stood there panting, bloodied weapons in hand. He didn't possess the strength or desire to pull out the sword that was hanging out of him like an exaggerated mechanical key for a toy, so he left it as he tottered in place like a drunk.

Let's do this, let's end it, came a voice into Zander's poor shattered mind, the voice of a tiny girl. Sheyman's little lover. Let's go home to father.

"All righty then..." Zander wheezed, regrouping. He could do this, he could end this great pain. He was strong, he was the Punisher of all who had ever wronged them. He gave a great shout and stepped forward, needing only to wave his weapons around to restart the fight.

Justin cursed and reloaded another arrow, not quite fast enough to stop another of the men in front of him from being slaughtered before his eyes. Zander was coming closer to him with each step. Bruce had backed away behind Justin, up against the rear stone wall of the room, his eyes wide with terror. He knew there was nowhere for him and Justin to escape.

"He's not going down!" someone shouted in alarm. "Bring the shocking gun!"

The Clansmen had collected many strange weapons from the technologically superior Dognan and even if they didn't know the technical names for such devices, were quick enough to learn their use. Zander screamed and finally went down for good as a bolt of lightning came out of nowhere and struck him in the back.

(break)

Wolverine, still watching the fight through the large mirror in the training room, grunted in surprise when he recognized the weapon. It was an old Taser, a large and clunky prototype of the device he had come to know in this modern age. He could see Zander didn't take it well, the Siskan collapsed and jerked wildly on the ground, his skin flickering in and out. At first Logan was pleased to see this come to end, but then he realized that whatever happened to this incarnation of Kimble happened to Remy as well.

"Fuck!" he shouted in alarm and rose to his feet as he saw the ghostly image of both the pilot Kimble and Gambit twitching and writhing on the ground as well. He couldn't help himself from crying out uselessly, "Stop this!"

Henry had come to his side, a hand there to steady to him, but there was no comfort he could give that would make any of this better. At least it didn't last long, not a moment later the weapon had discharged all of it power and Zander lay still.

(break)

Zander was down but he wasn't finished. Remy lay next to him, a transparent visitor to this nightmare. He was in no position to do anything now except wheeze in mental agony, he was just as numb and immobilized as Zander was, a mere observer on this train wreck speeding to its inevitable crash. He was still linked to Zander's mind and he knew the Siskan wasn't gone, not just yet. They were both paralyzed, numb to everything, the pain of this included. Still Zander was hopeful. It would come now, his death, and how sweet it would be.

"Is it dead?" someone asked.

"No, just down."

"Bleed it out!" Justin said, stepping into view. "It tried to kill us! They should all be destroyed!"

"No!" another man objected, coming up on Zander's right. If Zander could have wept with hopelessness then, he would have. He knew this voice. It belonged to Dan, the Curator of files. This was the man who had stolen his former skins and tried so foolishly to change his name. Dan was coming closer, his eyes gleaming with ill disguised greed. "No, let me fix it. It's too valuable to be destroyed. I can remove some of the files and it'll be just fine, I promise!"

"You can't be serious!" Justin howled, but he was pushed back by others here in charge. Valentin was nearby, not quite First General yet, and didn't argue. He stood there looking on the downed Siskan, a strange satisfied look on his face. He wasn't going to stop this.

Zander screamed internally, his frozen body not making a sound. Even in this he had no say, he couldn't even pull off his own death without being outvoted by some human committee. There was no word that could describe this great despair, it swallowed him whole and broke his mind, completing the shattering that had begin the moment Sheyman had died. Gambit howled with him, a scream that was suddenly aborted as the power to the hologram was abruptly shut off. Zander was gone into the black, taking Remy with him.

To be continued in Going Home.