The land was foreign, so she kept her eyes trained star ward. Head tilted up as the tomas drudged along, twinkling constellations told her where she was, as clear as a map in hand. They were headed to the spot where Vince had been exiled, but wouldn't make it but halfway before the tired toma and short supplies would cause them to head back.

After a long day of journeying, it was nearly cold enough to camp. Kern and Una had drunk more water than they should've, being unfamiliar with the conservation rules of desert travel. Vanessa warned otherwise, but they didn't listen, and now supplies were at the critical point – if she could escape before sunrise, she'd have enough water and food to last the trip back to the garden, assuming she left the bare essentials for Kern and Una to return home, as well. And she did assume she'd leave them that.

Kern called out to halt the toma and Una went about untying Vanessa from the saddle. All but Vanessa unloaded their supplies and readied a large tent.

Staring out, Vanessa memorized the surroundings, scanning for rocks, caves, anything she could use. The high rock formations were smooth, and wouldn't be much help. A glint caught her eye, and she saw a blade shining in the moonlight, from the edge of a basket. Perfect! Pretending to wander about a bit, she stepped over to it.

Cold metal pressed against the side of her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Una, brandishing a rusty firearm and a particularly nasty expression.

"I'll assume that wasn't intentional, this time," Kern called, rushing over. "But if you go near Una's weaponry again, she may have to ruin our fun!" He smiled nervously, lowering the barrel with his hand and pushing Vanessa to sit with the other. "Everything's fine now. You're sleeping in the cold tonight. Tie her to one of the rocks, give her a few blankets."

Ah, the irony. If she'd tied Vince to the rock, like she'd promised, Knives, then this never would've…She promised him. Knives stayed off, like she told him to, and he didn't kill the guy.

The night cooled, and the blankets couldn't still her shiver. Again, she found herself sleeping bound, something cold at her back. She always had something pressing into her back while she slept, these days. Now, it's something so cold. It used to be him, so warm.

She sighed, in spite of herself. Where did that come from?

O

O

Vanessa's arms were numb, come morning. Una untied her from the rock, without a word or glance of apology.

She would have liked to rub the feeling back, but her arms remained bound by the sinew from the morning before. The skin tingled, the limbs throbbed, such a nagging feeling. Her back ached from the rock, and she was exhausted from such a poor night's rest, propped against a rock. And she was still a slave.

Needless to say, it was not a good morning.

Being tied up was excruciating, she could barely tolerate another minute. She had been bought like cattle and was being jerked around like a prisoner. It made her ill. If she didn't get away from this soon, she might weaken and submit to being a slave.

Once they'd get back to the settlement, the sinew would come off, the magnet taken off, she'd be able to sleep laying flat, feed herself, go to the bathroom properly. But that was not good enough. That was worse than dying.

When Una pitched her over the tomas too hard, and she fell over the side, Vanessa snapped. That was simply the final straw. She said nothing, did nothing, just lay there, face red. Not a twitch did she betray as Una lifted her off her side and settled her into the saddle. As her feet were tied, she didn't try to kick the bitch in her ugly-ass face. No, she was still, calm, on the outside at least.

To her right was Kern, behind her Una, riding at a slow stride atop the toma. She saw Kern take a long swig of water, then pour some over his head. A low hiss escaped her lips that they didn't notice. She needed that water.

Vanessa had to free herself, and soon.

The sinew strings cut into her body all over, only her thighs, neck, and head unsecured. It was slavery or violence, and she was leaning evermore towards the latter.

She'd exercised her angel arm enough, acting as the secret Agent Peace on Earth for nearly a hundred years. Under close military supervision, after months of painful grafting and tests to 'resurrect' her partial core, she'd honed the skill. The once-excruciating effort became tolerable, more controllable, and felt euphoric in the most sickening way. In dreams, she'd pined for the feeling, that wonderful, sweet release. Since the accident, in which the enemy mines blew her legs away and her weapon went rogue, thoughts of using the arm aroused some nausea. Whenever her deeply-scarred thighs ached, whenever she tripped walking or running thanks to her new limp, whenever she recalled the extensive therapy and stress of so nearly losing her limbs, her stomach churned. That deep, physical pain, and the guilt of the many she'd killed in the accident…

It would all come rushing back, intermingled with new grief for whatever or whoever she would annihilate this time, with the memories she'd absorbed from Vash, and the memories of who had taught her about her 'gift' in the first place.

Knives.

Wouldn't he be proud, she surmised, staring at the tomas' neck muscles as they pulsed before her. For every time she used it, had he felt it? Wouldn't he feel it, too? Each time she used it, every human life she extinguished with it…did it earn a smile?

Una, behind her, wouldn't be touched. Kern might. When she'd used the weapon in the past, it always extended over her shoulders, and whipped out in front of her. Anything more than a foot behind her would be untouched, leaving Una free to shoot, slice, punch, whatever. That would result in an end to her slavery, and get her tortured for witchcraft, demonism, satanic worship, magic – whatever they were calling it these days. Not the best option.

After using it, she knew she'd be somewhat worn out. Her tomas was slower than the others, held the most water, and the least food. If she were to do it, she'd need to ensure Kern and Una were incapacitated, unable to reach her or follow her as she made her escape. Preferably, she'd be able to fell the two but leave them healthy and with the toma and supplies enough to get back to the settlement, preferably she wouldn't injure her own toma or lose supplies in the process.

She couldn't fully predict her arm, but she was pretty sure she'd be able to pull that off, if she could just get the two to walk their toma in front of her. They were sitting at her level, the toma's heads were low, and the angel arm whips, if only extended for a moment, might injure the toma and their riders, but only superficially. She'd pulled it off before, with dummies.

Here goes.

"My tomas' thirsty," Vanessa chirped, more cheerily than she meant. "It's best to water them early in the day, on trips, so it's stored in their guts by the time the suns are high."

Kern nodded to Una, slowing. He reached for Vanessa's tomas' bridle, stilling it as Una prepped a sip-sack. They sat, mounted, clustered, as Una watered each. As she finished, Kern released the bridle, and Una sat straight up, it was the perfect chance.

She'd forfeit proper provisions, but could survive on the water on her tomas. With Kern and Una so close, so perfectly in front of her, Vanessa knew this was her chance.

Concentrating for less than a second, she felt the searing heat at her back, and braced for release.