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A/N

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Act 1

The Lonely Girl

"Just because I am different doesn't mean you should hate me. Hate me for who I am. Not what I am." – Shamrock to Barnette.

Chapter 1

Barnette licked her teeth as she looked at the food she was being given to eat. It was the worst thing she had ever eaten. Before she had started her time cooking her food had tasted terrible, but this was something else entirely. It was the worst thing she had ever eaten and she had been eating for well over two months now. Though she had yet to make a full recovery, she was up and about and able to take care of herself. But she was still on the ship and still a prisoner. She got word that they were getting closer to her captives' world.

During her stay she had been subjected to over the months and a dozen more medical surgeries in order to finish her healing process. Their medical technology was nothing like that of Mejarru's technology, but it was a step up from anything the Men had back on Taraaku. If anything, the only thing that separated them was the true extent of their knowledge of the female body. William proved to be a capable doctor, far better than Duerro in her eyes. Both could be argued to care too much for their patience wellbeing but both were more scientists at heart rather than actual doctors.

For the most part their world was supposedly very similar to that of her people. It sported life, wild animals, but a good nature of their world was left untamed, either by choice or because it was impossible to tame due to wild animals. Their world was only eighty percent land and of that percentage only thirty-eight percent of it could be maintained and properly tended to. That wasn't saying that there weren't people off on their own little corner of the world, but there weren't as many doing so. The whole planet was a safety in numbers kind of place.

The biggest shock to her came from the guards speaking about wanting to be pilots. Being a pilot was like being a celebrity here. Barnette could only grasp a few of the reasons why that would be, but she understood that a good number of the pilots that existed on this ship were people with skills beyond most others. They piloted machines called Guardians and each one came in a variety of different models. At start you were given a base model and if you worked your way up the chain you got to alter it to your liking.

Each model consisted of one of three types. Each type featured a different armament that one could use. Barnette could see them each in these different types. She'd already been blessed to see the attacker model. The one she saw was a dark green that looked more like a heavily armed Dread, but it also changed into a Van-type not soon after. Though heavily armed, the transformation process was smooth and without pause. She could only guess that the other two types were Dread-types and a solid Van-type. If that was the case, she was going to go out on a limb and assume that the Van-type models were for defense only while the Dread-types were for attacking only. The one model she saw was most likely a mix between the two and could handle both forms of combat just as well as its other variations could.

While not as high up on the list for their military technology, she also grasped that they weren't as advanced as Mejarru's technology either. It was a stand thing in their military to carry around a laser ring at all times. These weapons were very effective for stunning and killing enemies. Only a few people collected the old models of guns from before the colonization era, and even then, they still weren't sought after. But their weapons seemed to be more advanced variations of the same old guns. Barnette was only slightly impressed by them for what she'd seen thus far.

And their ship, Almighty April, was nothing to truly be impressed with either. It was a small thing when compared to the Motherships they had back home. It was a class below the one she had fought above in the debris field. It held no more than three hundred people at any given time. Of those three hundred people, eighteen of them managed the bridge, twenty of them maintained the engine room, at least twenty of them were pilots and the rest were marines. Barnette didn't know if her numbers were right, but she wasn't going to assume this ship could that many people.

The door to her cell opened and in stepped one of the more familiar guards she had grown slightly accustomed to. She had a short brown hair and a dark tan from too much time in the sun. Her eyes were a bright gold. She stood just a little taller than herself. Her handler name was Trig. Barnette didn't question it. It was a military thing for them.

"Doc wants to see you for a checkup." Trig opened the bars to her cell and helped her to her feet. Barnette didn't fight it. She was through fighting them. The threat of airlock diplomacy was more than enough to keep her in line for the time being. If she were back on her ship right now she'd have done the same to them if the opportunity presented itself. "After your little checkup where going to have a few more questions for you."

"Richard?" she asked hopefully. She'd had the displeasure of speaking with Avalanche. The man was either really paranoid or thorough. Barnette leaned more on him being paranoid.

"No. You'll be going back to your cell and awaiting our specialist back at command."

"Command?" she questioned fearfully.

"Yes. We're home now." Barnette felt her world go cold as the great weight of despair hit her. How far away was she from the Nirvana now? Trig might have caught on to her despair. As they rounded a corner she stopped the young pirate. "With all the information you've given us, it'll give our higher-ups something to think about. Recently there have been a number of reports talking about these machines you've been telling us about. These reports are coming in from people off world."

"What are you guys? Galaxy police or something?"

Trig chuckled. "We're people trying to survive out here. We had a few neighboring people that were part of a trade group a while back and they were always picking up refuges from space stations run down by pirates and the like. Most of our Intel comes from such people. We find it more reliable at times."

Barnette got the picture. They spoke to traders, merchants, and people that had questionable backgrounds. It reminded her of the shows she used to watch back home about the good cop and the bad cop. Ironically the good cop would have friends in shady places while the bad cop would try to do things by the books but ultimately return to his bad self with a grudge against authority and walking the line. She could see them as those kinds of people. They weren't exactly good, but they were trying to be the good people that the world wanted them to do be.

As soon as Barnette stepped inside William's office she regretted it as well. She'd made an outburst against having a man look at her injuries and as such, they decided to be just a cruel to her by forcing Williams to be her doctor. With the extent of her injuries, taking her clothes off in front of him became a usual thing. Trig and another female guard stood inside the room. This one had white hair with a black lightning bolt colored into it. Her face had a scar that ran across her left cheek, up across her nose, and ended just above her eyebrow. The scar was easy to see against her chocolate skin.

"This won't take long, Barnette." William motioned to the table. Barnette complied. He looked away for a brief moment and she rolled her eyes. She pulled off the green shirt she had been given and sat on the table topless. With all the women they had on this ship, they didn't have anyone that was in her league for a bra. Williams turned back to her and began the delicate process of removing her bandages. Barnette hissed when the adhesive threatened to pull at her torn skin. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. Slowly he removed the bandages and began applying a new set to her. "Your flesh wounds have healed up nicely. Only minor scarring in a few areas. Nothing a bit of sun won't fix."

Barnette wanted to laugh at the irony in that. He made it sound like she was going to go home one day.

She threw her shirt back on and slid off the bed. It was time for her x-rays. The two guards were forced to stand further back as Barnette was subjected to the machine. Once that was finished was she was let out and was back on the bed. Her x-rays painted a different picture as opposed to her body. Though her cast on her arm had come off and the physical signs of damage were gone, her bones were still showing signs of the damage. Her ribs still showed minor cracks were time had not yet healed them. Her arm, while at about fifty percent of her normal strength, showed tears through the bones where her muscles did everything they could to hold the bone together now. Her legs had so many metal bindings in them that she couldn't go near magnets for the rest of her life. Williams assured her that they would be removed.

"You still have months of recovery ahead of you," he informed her sadly. Barnette idly wondered if he was getting paid for this. "You should be right as rain in a few months though, with the exception of your leg. As soon the bones are fully healed I can remove the bolts I put in them and then you'll just have that surgery to recover from."

"Not like it really matters," Barnette told him. William deflated. He'd heard this argument before. "You're just going to keep me in a prison cell once you have them the all clear for me. After that, I'll never see the light of day again."

He jerked his chin towards the door. Trig took Barnette by the arm. "Let's get you back to your room." Barnette let her lead her without complaint.

Trig lead her out of the room. The unknown guard and William remained behind. Once the door shut William groaned and tossed the x-rays down and tossed them at the desk. "She acts like we're going to throw her in prison for this." William cracked his neck as he continued looking over the documents of her medical record. "Lightning, do you guys intend to put her in prison when we get back?"

Lightning flexed her hand and tightened her grip on her wrist. It was a nervous habit she'd always had since she was young. "No," she said sharply. "Recent events have come to light. We established contact with command an hour ago. Seems her story isn't all false. Refuges are coming in by the dozen. Traders and merchants have mentioned something about red machines attacking colonies and other space stations."

"We've gotten in contact with command?" Lightning nodded. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"We just made contact about an hour ago. We haven't really been able to get messages out to the others. We've been following the proper chain of protocol for this situation. With all the information she's provided us with, we had to give them the report on our findings. After we gave our report we were given a file on recent reports of odd sightings and stranger stories. Several of the stories have video documentation of these odd machines. One video showed a small squadron taking down a station. They released several pods of some sort into the station moments before it was blown up in the crossfire."

"So what does this mean…?"

"Most likely she's going to walk. But for the time being we are keeping her on tight security." She leaned against the desk. "We'll be docking soon. Once we've docked, get ready to transfer over all the paper documents you have on her medical records." Lightning pushed off the desk and marched to the door. She stopped short of the doorframe as it slid open. "Richard will want to speak to you first about the medical documents before you transfer them over. Said something about mending documents and such."

"Raven?" Lightning shivered at the name. "I'll get to work on it."

(-)

Barnette lifted her shirt and started at the scar on her abdomen with a frown. Time in the sun wouldn't fix this. She was damaged. No woman would look at her the same way. Would Jura even look at her the same way anymore? She doubted it. Jura was about perfection, but she wasn't as prude to snoop to that level.

Putting her shirt down she marched over to her cot and collapsed on it. The ship was supposed to be docking in a few minutes and once it was finishing docking she was to be transferred to a holding cell to get prepped for her interrogation. In a matter of hours she was going to be thrown in a smaller cell than this one and then possibly executed just for being a pirate. Would they shoot her or poison her?

The door parted with a hiss of gas. Barnette sat up straight. Trig stood in the doorframe with her arms crossed. "We're going to be docking soon." Barnette crossed her arms in silent defiance. Trig gave her a disarming smile. Barnette was not happy. Trig stepped up to the cell and unlocked it. Barnette became confused. "Let's go for a walk. Just the two of us."

"This is going to be airlock diplomacy, is it?" Trig arched a delicate brow and shook her head. Not seeing any alternative, she humored her and followed. "Where are we going?"

"I figured we go check out the hanger. Have a look at something." Barnette shrugged and followed after her. "So who are you beyond your name and title as a pirate? Surely some such as yourself would have a bigger name for yourself."

Barnette inhaled deeply as she followed her through the crowded hallways of the ship. She ignored everyone as she followed after her. "What do you wanna know?"

"Whatever you wanna tell me about your life," Trig replied carelessly.

Barnette rolled her eyes, unhappy with the unorthodox probing. They passed a window and she finally saw the beautiful void that was space. The sight she was greeted to was not pleasant. It was a place devoid of color and life. They hovered over a planet of bland dark greens and minor patches of dark blue. In one small section she could vaguely make out lights as the city was either waking up or going to sleep. It was hard to till which was happening. The sun was beyond her field of view, but she couldn't see any form of light from anywhere.

Aside from the planet, the only other thing she could see was a space station with similar ships to the ones that made up the debris field. They looked like old shotguns without the handle. They flew in pairs of two and orbited a nasty looking space station armed to the teeth with missiles and turrets. From her angle it looked as though it was half the size of the planet, but she was pretty close to it so that wasn't saying much. The entire station looked alive with ships refueling, docking to release passengers, and heading out for their patrols or to go on to their next trade route.

"Back home this would be considered heresy. We don't commune with men. They're our enemy."

"You make that sound like you live on a planet with only females."

"You make that sound like you're don't like the very thought of that."

"Let's just say my preference in partners leaves a lot to be desired with my family and leave it at that." Barnette could see a picture forming in her mind about this woman. She acted like someone you'd see at a party, living it up, and spending time with bad people in cheap hotels. "But since you're not in a talking mood, I'll talk. You're machine has technology and a power source that seems rather… sentient. Is that common on your world?" Barnette pursed her lips as they continued walking. "Just so you know, the people that will be talking to you will be males, so I'd lose the attitude if you want to have a chance at getting back home."

They entered an elevator. Barnette remained quiet the whole trip. The elevator came to a stop and the doors parted. Barnette could smell gas, oil, and smoke. She knew the smell belonged to that of a hanger bay. She didn't get two steps out of the elevator before her suspicion was confirmed. She could see of few of the aircraft being worked on. One of them was getting its armored stripped away to work on something with more hydraulics and wires than Hibiki's Vanguard. A couple of mechanics were busy looking it over when one of them took notice of her.

Barnette paid them no mind. Trig lead her through the mess of metal and tools that were scattered along the floor. They passed a few more people before they came across a slab of half melted metal that was blackened from high heat. Part of if was a familiar purple. The shape was almost unrecognizable until she saw the white pod that had been cracked apart from intense force placed on it. It was her Dread. They had salvaged it… most of it anyways.

"We salvaged it. Brought it here and tried to power it up. Thought it might have more information on it to back up your story." Trig crossed her arms and walked around it slowly. Barnette knelt down at touched it. The damage was worse than what she expected. There was no way that she should have walked away from this without the miracle hand of god on her shoulder. "I brought you down here to have a look at it. Thought you could bring it to life. One of our engineers thinks it might be voice or finger print locked."

Barnette jumped up on top of the melted wing and reached inside the canopy to pop it. The engineers that were under it came out and watched her go to work in the cockpit. Barnette was quick to work on bringing it online. The lights lit up and the engine hummed to life but died just as quickly it came on. Barnette tried to bring it up again but with no luck. Sighing, she jumped out and went under the craft herself. She tore a control panel off and looked at the wires. Most of them were melted or fused together. What few survived were not important to the systems she was trying to bring online.

The pirate tossed the panel out from under the Dread and moved to another panel. She tore it off and fell into despair.

The Dread's main and secondary power sources were blown. The main one had been fried by an overload of some kind and subjected to the high heat after the heat shielding failed. The secondary power source was cracked almost cleanly in half while the inside has been smashed to bits. She shoved herself out from under the Dread and growled as she jumped back up into the cockpit to rip up the panel and mess with the wires.

"So how bad is it?"

Barnette looked over the broken glass to stare at Trig. "What kind of handler name is Trig?"

"It's short for Trigger Happy." Barnette went back to searching for some good wires to work with. "It was a nickname when I joined. They gave me a gun and I fired on the targets without pause. After training they took notice of my efficiency with guns, slapped it on to my title as a pilot and my acting CO gave me the handler name. Everyone shortened it to what it is now." Barnette grunted in acknowledgment as she tossed another panel away. The wires inside were melted through as well. "What are you looking for exactly?"

Barnette huffed and sat back on the torn chair. "I was hoping to get some power to the subsystems and activate the radio. Try and get in contact with my ship and see if they can find me to pick me up."

"We tried bringing the subsystems back online. But we didn't know what we were looking for." Trig leaned over into the cockpit and touched a few buttons. The screen flickered to life for a moment but died soon after. "I'm guessing this thing isn't locked by some random code or finger print?" Barnette shook her head. "We pulled the flight recorder out of the thing. It was pretty banged up. The outer casing was melted and the wires inside were either fused together or just ripped apart from the damage this thing went through. We were lucky to pull anything out of it."

"Well the two power systems my Dread uses are broken and melted," Barnette huffed. She clambered out of the wreckage and ran a hand through her hair. She wanted to shoot something. She needed the release. "Where's the flight recorder?"

"One of the techs has it. It's part of your investigation right now. You can take a look at after we're done with it." Barnette huffed again, unhappy by the news. "Were you thinking of rewiring it into the power grid in hopes of it acting as a small power source to bring up the main systems?"

"I figured I'd try. It has its own power source, no matter how weak it is."

"Smart move but you'd run the risk of destroying the box entirely. If that happens, you can't prove anything to anyone." The pirate tightened her jaw and jumped under the craft again.

"Why'd you bring me down here?" Barnette asked while under the broken Dread. "Wanting to learn more about my ship and who I am? See if I'm telling you all the truth about my life and what I've been fighting for the past few months."

The ship shuddered and Barnette scrambled out from under the wreckage of her machine. A few of the engineers cheered and praised god. "I got you out of your cell because I was ordered to. It had nothing to do with getting information. It's got to do with something else. Come on. Let's get your cleaned up and prepped for your big day in court. This will be fun."

Barnette felt dread hit her again. She wanted to jump in her Dread and fly away as fast as possible. Casting one last glance at her fallen ship, she accepted her fate. She was going to die here on a planet as a stranger and a foreigner.