Disclaimer: The TV show Dark Angel, all of the characters that appeared on it (Max, Alec, Mia, etc.), and everything else that has to do with the show belong to their respective owners, not to me. No money is being made off of this fic. I only own the original characters (Jeff/X6-941, etc.).

Notes: This is an idea that popped up into my head and refuses to go away. It takes place during my fic "All of Us" sometime around chapter 10, but it is not a new chapter of that fic. This is first-person P.O.V. from Mia's point of view. I don't recall her designation being given in "Fuhgeddaboutit" so I'm making it up here. Spoiler/spoiler-ish stuff for "Fuhgeddaboutit" and "The Berrisford Agenda."

I've been by myself for most of my life. Okay, maybe that technically isn't true. There are plenty of others that are just like me or similar to me. Who am I? My designation is P2-400. What does that mean? I am a Psychological Operations series 2 unit, otherwise known as a member of the P2 series. I am a telecoercion-specialist soldier. The P1s are the telepaths. They can get into a subject's brain and pick things out of there, but they can't force anybody to do what they or anybody else wants. That is the job of a P2 series soldier like me. With a simple suggestion, sounding as pleasant as if I was asking somebody to make a grocery list for me, I could make a subject tell me anything. Espionage plans, battle details, you name it. I was ordered to put my skills to use in the Psychological Operations section of the Manticore facility that had burned down just outside of this city, Seattle, ever since I was seventeen years old. Before then, I had been training not only in the skills that the X-series had been working on, but training in my special skills as well. Us Psy Ops soldiers are the same ages as the soldiers that are in the middle of the X5 generation, but we're not quite as strong or as fast as they are. Physically we're on par with the average-rated X6s, but mentally…it's really cool.

Maybe I should rephrase that. It's really cool when you think about it initially, but when you put it into practice, either by choice or by force as had been the norm for me before Manticore's demise, it looses all or at least most of its charm. Where's the fun in everything if you know with just a little bit of effort, you can have a person fulfill every wish that you've got? But what gets to me the most is some of the things that the people in charge made me do. I can understand field interrogations. Those made sense. I can even understand some of the reasoning behind some of the things that I was called upon to do back at Manticore proper. If a soldier had displayed extraordinarily bad behavior that went above and beyond insubordination or if somebody had botched a critical mission severely, then it's somewhat reasonable. But why should I mentally torture them? Why did I have to, in some cases, work on them so intensely that they were almost shells of their former selves afterwards?

Then there were the actions of the transgenics that I had to work on over the years. Some of them botched their missions because they had made mistakes at the worst possible time. A few of them had honest psychological issues. Most of them were X5s or X6s that had been put into Psy Ops for a precautionary stay back in 2009 when that X5 unit from Wyoming had tried to escape. Being as young as they were at the time, especially those poor X6 kids, I'm not surprised that it did some lasting damage if they were not relatively psychologically sound to begin with. And some of them just plain old were in the wrong place at the wrong time with a trainer or director who was in a bad mood. I always really hated those cases.

There was one case that nags me to this day. It happened fairly close to the end of Manticore and the subject had not only botched his mission and had a precautionary stay in Psy Ops all those years ago, but also was the twin of one of those escaped soldiers. X5-494 had been on a solo mission to infiltrate the home of one of Manticore's suppliers by posing as the target's daughter's new piano teacher while he attempted to dig up potentially incriminating information, which he did end up doing. Basically, he had been asked to eliminate both the target and the daughter and did neither, warning them when a bomb that had been planted by another X5 that Manticore had sent had been activated. The target got away unscathed, but the daughter had been gravely injured and possibly killed and 494 had gotten hysterical for reasons that weren't apparent at the time.

I remember being on duty in Psy Ops at the time that 494 was brought in. They had brought him into the interrogation room where I'd been sitting and essentially twiddling my thumbs and told me to perform an initial investigation and that they'd be back later to begin 494's 'therapy.' I was surprised that they wanted me to do an initial because the P1s normally did that task because of their talents. But I had been trained to do that so I gave 494 something to wake him up from the sedatives that he was obviously under at the time and waited for him to wake up. When he did, he got hysterical again and something in me wanted to just cry also. It definitely wasn't the first time that I'd seen a soldier hysterical before, whether they had arrived in that state or brought in under sedation and then became hysterical upon waking up, like 494. It was something in his eyes that I'd hadn't seen in any of those hysterical cases: pain. Not physical pain, not the typical fear of Psy Ops, but real emotional anguish. After I'd suggested to 494 that he tell me what had happened, I was even closer to tears. The poor guy! No wonder he was so upset. My 'bosses' had asked for a lot of mean and terrible things to be done before, whether it was in Psy Ops by me or somebody else or by a soldier out on a mission, but this was flat-out cruel. I knew what I had to do but I'd also known what I would have been ordered to do if I had also told my superiors about all of the details concerning 494's reaction when he had thrown his mission. I had gotten 494 to calm down at least a little bit and then 'suggested' to him that he not tell any Psy Ops personnel other than myself exactly how he felt about the target's daughter and that he only say if asked that he and the daughter had been best friends. I knew that it would work. Back during testing years ago, when I'd implanted a suggestion into a transgenic subject, not even the P1s or the other P2s were able to get it out of him. I carefully made up the report and presented it to the doctor and ordinary soldier than had entered the interrogation room and they had bought it easily. I'd still been ordered to work on 494 for most of the three months that he'd end up spending in Psy Ops and I felt my heart twist every time. I wished that I didn't have to do what I'd been told to do on him. Of all the cases that I'd been assigned to, his was the only one that I'd felt was completely wrong and like I'd said before, it still bothers me to this day.

I remember that I was off duty and back in my cell when the fire happened. I was scared out of my mind! I didn't know what to do and I didn't see any guards or anybody that I could make them either tell me what was going on or doing something about the situation. It was at that point that I'd realized that we were being betrayed by somebody, maybe even Director Renfro herself. Why else wouldn't there be guards in the hall or why else wouldn't we be let loose to combat the problem? Our cell doors were finally opened and I managed to leave my block just before it burst into flames. I got out of there as quickly as I could considering those poor confused X7s that didn't know what was going on and were trying to stop all of us from leaving. But I got over the fence and when I looked around for the other P2s that I'd escaped with, I saw them running off and splitting up, all of them away from me. I should have known.

This was what I'd meant by growing up by myself even though I was part of my generation. I'd always loved company and having friends, but when I'd tried to be friendly with some of my fellow Psy Ops transgenics, they never wanted to. Maybe it was their personalities. As awful as it sounds, it would make sense if we were bred to be aloof and distant from everybody, including our own. If that's true, though, then how do you explain me? I'd never felt like that, no matter what they tried to stuff in our heads. I guess there really does have to be a black sheep in every family. That didn't mean that it failed to sting when I would try to be friends with another P2 or one of the P1s. We were polite and everything when we would have meals together and when we would work together, but we were never friends with each other. It was sad.

Since I couldn't make friends with my own people, I decided to try to make some friends with some of the other transgenics. I started out with polite conversation because it's silly to go rushing into anything. It was a good thing that I started out small, though, because I could tell from only that little bit that all or at least most of the X-series were afraid of me. I guess that I could understand that. They were taught all of their lives to fear Psy Ops and what would be done to them if they messed up so it was natural that they would extend that fear to include me and the other Psy Ops series transgenics. I didn't really blame them. Once again, that didn't mean that it didn't hurt me.

Once I was over the fence and by myself, I did what I had to do. I'd found a place where I could get a few hours of sleep and then I hitchhiked my way into a nearby town and got myself some necessities like clothing and food and money. I tried not to use my unique skills unless it was absolutely necessary. That probably wasn't the best strategy, but then again maybe it was. I knew that it wasn't a good idea to do anything that could potentially expose myself as something other than an ordinary human being. I think that I was successful at that because I never found myself chased by any ordinary soldiers. I did pretty well out here.

I discovered that there was more to being on the Outside than simply trying to blend in with everybody. I found out that I absolutely loved Italian food and that I couldn't stand to read mystery novels. I know that I'd had training on skills that would be useful when on missions and had actually gone on some outside missions, but my primary function then was to perform field interrogations so I really hadn't had time to discover what I liked and what I didn't. I had found out that I just loved listening to music and going dancing and that I hated people that were rude and disgusting in public. I loved it. I was really having some fun. Despite all of this, there were times when I was still lonely. Even though I made some friends in the places where I had lived and worked and even though I had even gone out on a few dates with ordinary guys, I would still look around and wonder if there was another transgenic in the crowd and I would think about how things had been for me back at Manticore and get sad again. I knew that I shouldn't let it get me down. There was just too much to enjoy out here. Even so, I felt that disappointment of the first part of my life and it would drag me down at least for awhile.

I'd had a feeling that something was going on the night that I was in my apartment at the time in Cleveland and I was watching the news and a report came up on four exposed transgenics. I'd only heard of X6-405 maybe once or twice and in passing only, but I definitely knew two of them by reputation: X5-599 and X5-452. You would have had to have been living underneath a rock in the training grounds not to have heard of the commanding officer and second-in-command of the escaped unit from Wyoming. For some reason, I'd not been assigned to either of them when they were recaptured and then transferred to Seattle with everybody else from their facility, though I would hear a lot about how tough and resistant they were in their Psy Ops sessions, even with a Psy Ops transgenic working on them. I had to respect them for that. How can you not give the right credit to people who are willing to put up such a fight for what they believed in?

I'd gotten something of a jolt when I saw that the fourth transgenic was none other than X5-494. Not only did I work on him during his stay in Psy Ops as a result of what had happened on his mission, but he had grown up in the facility in Seattle just like I had so I knew that he was, and somehow still remained after his release from Psy Ops, the leader of our facility's X5s and had quite a good reputation for his work, that one mission excluded. As a result, I had a pretty good idea that if he of all people were exposed as a transgenic then something huge was going on and it had to be beyond the simple task of Manticore clean-up. Something was definitely wrong here and it might have been the feline DNA in me, but I was curious and I wanted to check it out somehow.

I decided to head back west. I'd taken a long route back to the Pacific coast, so it was several weeks before I'd arrived back in Washington State. I decided to head into the city of Seattle itself. I was glad that I did! On my very first afternoon there, before I had even found a place to stay for the night, I was wandering around getting a feel for the city when I had come across a massive crowd that was gathered by one of the fences that was sectioning off the massive sector of the city that was known as Terminal City. I had asked what was going on and I was told that rumors had spread that there were transgenics, at least hundreds but maybe even a thousand or more, holed up inside. I knew that I had hit the jackpot, but I also could plainly see that broad daylight with this mob around was not the time to make my way inside. I decided to find a motel room to spend the night and then the night after that to go inside.

That's where I am right now. I found a section of the gate that miraculously had no ordinaries nearby. I adjusted the straps of the large backpack that I was carrying, glanced around just to be sure, and then took a few steps back before leaping over the fence. I breathed a sigh of relief and started to take a few steps forward when I had an M-16 staring me in the face. I wasn't surprised or panicked in the least.

"State your barcode and designation for confirmation," the X6 that was holding the assault rifle said calmly.

"333562948400. P2-400," I replied.

The X6 nodded and put a hand to his earpiece and repeated the information. After a few seconds, we both heard the confirmation come through and he smiled. "Welcome to Terminal City, 400. My designation's X6-941, but you can call me Jeff. What's your name?"

I was surprised at how friendly he was. Maybe not all of the X-series had been as afraid and unwilling to be friends with Psy Ops transgenics as I had thought. He was familiar to me, too. I remember seeing him around Seattle several times before. "My name is Mia," I said. "It's nice to meet you, though I think I've seen you before over the years back at the Seattle facility."

"Yeah, most likely," Jeff agreed. "That's where I was born and raised. My relief for sentry duty should arrive any minute now and then I'll show you over to our control room so that you can get checked in and see what's available in the way of apartments. We've got plenty, enough for every Manticore transgenic even when you count the ones that aren't old enough to be out of the nursery. You shouldn't have a problem finding a place to crash."

"Great," I said, grinning.

Jeff looked at me curiously. "I didn't think Psy Ops people smiled like that." He shrugged. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Mia. I don't exactly have pleasant memories of Psy Ops. I was only there once when I was six for a few months, but that was enough to last me a few lifetimes."

"You poor thing," I said sympathetically. "You seem to me to be all the stronger for it."

"Yeah, I think I am," Jeff said. "As much as I hated that time, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can survive anything." He turned and sure enough, I could see another X6 heading up to us. "Hey, Wes. Looking forward to your shift?"

"Yeah, nothing like standing here doing jack shit," the other boy said. He smiled. "I'll catch you later, Jeff."

"See you later, Wes," Jeff said. We started to walk away.

"Is he a friend of yours?" I asked.

"One of my unit mates," Jeff explained. "He's more or less like a brother to me."

"You're lucky," I said.

"Thanks," Jeff said. We turned a corner to walk down another street and Jeff grinned when he saw somebody approaching us. "Hey, Max." He gestured to the young woman. "Mia, this is Max. You might know her as X5-452. Max, this is Mia. Her designation's P2-400 and she was originally from Seattle."

I knew that it was her. I held out my hand and smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Max."

"Yeah, the same," Max said. She shook my hand but she seemed a little hesitant and once more, as much as I understood her hesitation it still got to me. "You're a Psy Ops person?"

"Yes," I said.

Max looked at me and she saw how bothered I was and she smiled. "You know what? I've got room to talk about that kind of dealio. I'm sorry. Welcome to Terminal City."

"Thank you," I said, relieved. She did seem to be really nice. "I can understand. I was never ordered to work on you or 599, but I would hear stories from the others who were assigned to you guys. I can't believe either of you much less both of you were able to resist everybody and everything. I have so much respect for you guys."

"Thanks," Max said. "You do the telecoercion dealio?"

"That's my thing," I agreed. "Only when necessary. It takes the spice out of life, you know what I mean?"

"I do," Max said. "I hate boring." She walked with me and Jeff over to and then into another building and then led us into a large room with computer terminals and other equipment inside. "Welcome to the control room here in T.C. That's Dix and Luke over by the computers there. And where's…there he is. Hey, Alec, we've got a new arrival."

"I'm right here," a man who was standing near a cabinet with his back to us said. I blinked in surprise. It was 494. He turned around and he looked similarly shocked to see me. "I know you from Psy Ops."

"You do?" Jeff asked.

"I worked on him while he was there," I said quietly. I blinked back the tears that had come to my eyes. After about a year, the regrets still had not left me. I felt like bursting into tears once more. "494…I mean, Alec…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Alec looked surprised. "Sorry for what?"

"For what I had to do," I said. "I could tell from when I brought you out of sedation in Psy Ops that something was wrong and when you told me…" I actually felt a tear slip down one cheek. "…I felt horrible for you and…I knew what they would do if they found out everything. I ran as much interference as I could, I told you to mention to any other Psy Ops person that you and the girl were nothing more than best friends and I doctored the initial to corroborate that story, but I still knew the real deal and I was still ordered to do what I had done to you. I'm really sorry, Alec."

"Apology accepted," Alec said. He smiled. "If anything, I should be thanking you for keeping those other guys off of my back as much as you did." His smiled grew somewhat sad. "I don't know if you heard, but Rachel died back in December from her head injury. I did get to see her one last time to say good-bye."

"I'm glad that you got to have some closure," I said. "Again, I'm really sorry about everything."

"No harm, no foul, and I'd like to think that I came out better on the other side," Alec said. He extended a hand to me. "Maybe we can even be friends."

I grinned. "I'd love that. I never really had any friends before."

Max looked surprised. "You haven't? Not even among the P1s and other P2s?"

"No," I said. "I didn't have any. I tried asking a few of the X-series, but they didn't seem interested in being friends with me either."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Jeff asked. "I would have been friend with you if you wanted."

"Oh, that's so nice of you," I said. I gave him a hug. "That means a lot. You're a real sweetheart."

"Sorry, Mia," Max teased. "He already has a girlfriend. Not only can she physically kick your ass, but she is too damn stubborn for you to work your magic on her if you wanted to. Trust me, never underestimate the power of transgenic stubbornness."

"I never will," I promised and we all laughed.

"If you're not too tired, I'll show you around T.C. after you pick a place," Max said. "Don't worry about me being tired, I never am. I'm one of the lucky ones that has shark DNA."

"I am a little tired right now," I admitted. "I'd love to have a good look around this place in the morning, though."

"Cool," Max said. "I'll get a few of us together. Get you around the area, introductions, the whole nine yards. Ten in the morning good for you?"

"That sounds great," I said.

"Awesome," Alec said. "Luke right now is running our housing desk, so after you check in with him, Max and I will show you to your new crib. We'll point out the cafeteria on the way there. If you've got any questions, feel free to ask either Max, since she's pretty much the head honcho around here, or me since I'm more or less her second-in-command."

"Thank you," I said.

"You do look pretty tired," Jeff said.

"I am, and it's…" I trailed off as I tried to find the right words. "…overwhelming."

"Tell me about it," Max said. "Hey, look at it this way. Alec and Jeff and I all were pretty much forced to move in here after this hostage situation that Jeff got stuck in last month right before Alec and I were exposed. You've got one up on us in that department."

"I can't argue with that logic," I agreed.

"You'll need the good night's sleep that I won't be getting for at least another three or four days," Max said. "Sleep well when you hit your new crib. You're with friends."

I smiled. I was with friends. Just in the span of minutes, I didn't feel nearly as lonely as I had for most of my life. I'd made friends with other transgenics and I had closure with the situation with Alec. Things can only look up from here personally, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow.