[A/N]: Here's chapter 8, just in time for Thanksgiving! More to come soon!

I own nothing but the fic. Be sure to check out Touhoufanatic's fic Daemons In The Fog if you haven't already.

And with that said, enjoy!

"On your knees! Put your hands behind your head!"

I slowly comply, not wanting to get into a confrontation now that I have no way out. "Please don't shoot!" I yell, trying to act scared, which isn't very hard. I cower slightly as two camouflaged men approach, their rifles trained on me the entire time.

After both of them reach me I can see one of them relax slightly. "Christ, what's a person like you doing way the hell out here?"

"I-I was picking mushrooms s-sir."

"Mushrooms? This time of year?" His partner asks.

"Y-yes sir. I-it's a little late for Morels, but they're out here."

"Where's your bag then?"

"W-when the shelling started I panicked and dropped it."

"Shelling…? Oh. Jesus, you were all the way over there?"

"Y-yes sir."

Finally the second guy relaxes. "Alright, where do you live? We'll take you home."

'Oh shit, ummm…'

"I… don't. I've just been moving around, wherever there's work."

"Well… the least we can do is give you a ride back to town. We've got a few spare beds too if you want a place to crash for the night."

"I'd like that. Thank you sir."

"Hop in the back and hold on."

"Here we are Miss! It don't look like much, but that's the point." The driver yells over his shoulder through the back window, of the pickup truck, warranting me to rise from my seat in the corner of the bed to sit on the fender.

Ahead of us sits what looks like an abandoned lodge, complete with a ski lift next to a decrepit boarded-up ski rental building. On one side of the ski lodge were a couple snowcats and pickup trucks, parked in such a way that they could roll out in a moments notice.

The driver eases the truck into a parking spot and turns it off prior to getting out. "Follow me. Is there anything you want before I rack out?"

"Is there a place where I can get a drink?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure you'll want to drink there. Some of the guys can get a little… touchy, when they're drunk." The passenger responds. "I'm about to head there to make sure they ain't destroying the place, so you're welcome to tag along if you're willing to accept you'll probably have a couple drunks try to feel you up."

"I appreciate the concern, but I can handle my own. I'll take my chances." I answer confidently.

"Alright, follow me. See you later Sabre."

The driver gives a two fingered wave over his shoulder as he continues to walk away, ascending some stairs on the side of the building to the second story.

Noticing that the other guy is leaving me behind I jog to catch up to him, and we both walk in silence through the front doors of the lodge to the sound of laughter and talking.

Once inside the door my guide stops me and hands me a small wad of money. "Buy whatever you need. Just keep an eye out for those three in the far corner. Don't worry about paying me back."

"Uhh… thanks." I mutter, dumbfounded.

"Don't mention it. If you need me just yell, I'll be on the balcony keeping an eye on things." He flashes a thumbs-up before heading towards a stairwell.

I count out the bills in my hand and head towards the bar, weaving between chairs and tables occupied by almost nothing but guys who eye me like a cold drink on a summer day. Upon reaching the bar I sit in a barstool and grab the camouflage-clad bartender's attention.

"Howdy Miss, I don't think I've seen you here before. What'll it be?"

"Something strong."

He nods and turns around, grabbing a quart mason jar off a shelf. "How does apple pie sound?"

"Perfect." I respond, catching the jar as it's slid across the counter. I screw off the cap and give it a sniff to make sure it's not just apple juice before slapping the money on the counter. "Cheers."

For a while I tune out the talking around me, instead focusing on my own thoughts and the events of the day. My thoughts drift back to the engagement in the strait, and try as I might I can't figure out where the battleship came from. After several minutes of trying to make sense of the engagement I feel a pinch on the backside and straighten up in surprise. I turn in my seat to find one of the guys the guy warned me about, a big grin on his face and a beer in his hand. "Hey there sweet cheeks!"

Giving the dude a chance I roll my eyes and turn back around, taking another drink from the mason jar before the guy sits down next to me and tries to strike up a conversation.

"So, you come here often?"

"Nope. I'm just cruising through, looking for work." I respond with a monotone voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that I'm not interested.

"Oh? And what do you do for work? There's some jobs open in the area that you look like you'd fill perfectly."

"Metal fabrication and welding. What jobs are open?"

"Well we need another diesel mechanic, the Navy needs welders, and there's a distinct lack of dancers-"

He's cut off when a guy who's in a hurry bumps into him, knocking him into me and spilling the rest of my moonshine all over me. He quickly picks himself up and looks at me with great amusement while I flick a cinnamon stick off my alcohol-soaked jacket. Frustrated, I slam the empty mason jar down on the bar and get up, heading towards the front door with the intention of simply disappearing into the woods.

That is, until a gentle hand on the shoulder stops me. I wheel around, ready to lay out the drunk dumbass who tried to talk to me, but find a woman dressed in camouflage and a plate carrier standing there. "Easy. I notice you've got no bag. I have some clothes up in my room that might fit you." She quickly explains.

I hesitate, then eventually nod, knowing that declining would raise some eyebrows. In return the woman smiles softly. "Come with me."

I follow her across the first floor, then up the stairs to the second floor, where she walks four doors down on the right and opens the door. She strides in confidently and I close the door behind me, finding two bunk beds and a pair of dressers.

"I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Second Lieutenant Karla Huffner, a liaison from the National Guard. Please just call me Karla or Lieutenant." She says while opening up a drawer and pulling out a pair of camouflage clothes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Allison Kellogg." I lie about my name, but it's an alias that I've gone under during shore expeditions, an alias that Enterprise came up with, and a sneaky one at that. Allison Kellogg, AK, Alaska.

"Nice to meet you Allison. Do you have a bunk yet?"

"Nope. I got here and went straight for the bar." I respond with an amused huff.

"Rough day?" She asks while handing me the change of clothes.

"You could say that." I giggle. "Woke up freezing my ass off with a hangover, spent a few hours travelling with someone I don't like, then when I went mushroom picking I had the shit scared outta me by three Fog ships and I left my bag of belongings in the woods somewhere in my hurry to get the hell outta dodge."

"Yeah that does sound like a rough day. Well, these three bunks are open, so get changed outta those and pick one. I'm going to sleep." She yawns and points to the three bunks before flopping down on her bunk, which is clearly identified by a M4 leaning against it.

"Is there any place for me to change?"

"Bathroom at the top of the stairs. The lock doesn't work, so use the doorstop. You can keep those if they fit."

"Thanks."

I leave the room with the clothes bundled up in my arms and head for the bathroom, knocking on the ajar door to ensure it's unoccupied before entering and putting the doorstop in place.

Since my clothes are made of nanomaterials I don't actually need to change them out. It's just easier this way though. Less excuses.

I strip the excess nanomaterials off of me and swirl them around myself in the air once before making them into an exact copy of the clothes that Karla gave me. Having gotten "redressed" I stash the clothes I was given under some towels on a high shelf and comb out my hair, which was made somewhat puffy from the earlier exposure to saltwater. Once I feel presentable I remove the doorstop and walk out, yawning as I do so.

I take probaby four steps towards Karla's door before it's flung open and the Lieutenant emerges, her M4 clutched in her hands. She looks right, and then looks left, locking eyes with me before she raises her rifle with a look of disgust. "Freeze, Alaska! Hands up!"

I do the exact opposite. I spin around and sprint towards the stairs, taking the steps three or four at a time before leaping to clear the last five and combat rolling onto my feet. I sprint at the front exit as fast as I can, and right before I burst through it I hear Karla yell behind me.

"Stop her! She's a Fog!"

The yelling behind me as I burst through the door is enough evidence to me that shit just hit the fan, and when I clear the front steps I sprint towards the trucks, sacrificing my 'shoelaces' for a key.

Without breaking stride I dive into the open window of the truck I was brought here in and jam the key into the ignition, rejoicing when the Diesel engine rumbles to life. I jam the gearshift into Drive and floor the accelerator just as everyone makes it outside, some firing rifles or handguns at me while others run for the trucks.

I duck in the seat and throw a panel from my klein field at them, knocking down the people shooting at me before I'm out of their line of fire, having entered the narrow logging road.

Now is when the real chase begins. Given my uncle's experience in working on Diesel trucks he had a fun half-ton pickup truck that him and I would modify, then race until it broke down. Then we'd tear it apart and try something else. Put simply, I'm not new to the world of speed. I definitely give them a run for their money, somehow managing to stay comfortably ahead for a solid ten minutes.

Of course, being in an unknown area eventually screws me over. I take a wrong turn and end up on an old logging landing. The second I realize my mistake I start to turn around, but the narrow road means that I have to do a three-point turn, and halfway through the process they catch up.

As the lead pickup accelerates around the corner I expect the driver to slow down, but instead he floors it, and I realize his intentions seconds before he T-bones the pickup I'm in, rolling it several times and sending me bouncing around inside the cab.

Once the truck settles it's on the roof of the cab. I try to push myself up, but find myself physically too weak to move, and the door is wrenched open before I'm forcefully dragged out and put in handcuffs.

I'm then unceremoniously dragged to the back of a pickup and thrown in, to find Karla sitting on the fender with her M4 pointed at me.

I sigh and smile, staring up at the star-filled sky. "You don't need to point that at me anymore. You caught me, I'm done. I'm not gonna try anything else."

"And why should I believe you?"

I chuckle weakly and close my eyes. "Because I'm too weak and tired to try anything else. Getting your ass kicked twice in the same day is tiring you know."

"I suppose it would be for a human, but don't Fog not fatigue?"

"I can't say." I respond, activating the level one distress signal encoded in my union core. Level one is a way of saying 'hey I'm over here', while level two is a non-urgent distress signal. Level three is the highest, and demands immediate action by any nearby ships.

"You know what fatigue is right?" Karla asks.

"Of course I know what fatigue is. I'm simply not permitted to disclose information regarding how we function."

"Heh. The Navy's going to have a field day with you."

"How'd you figure it out by the way? I wasn't in there very long."

"There were cameras in that forest watching the shoreline. I received a BOLO with a picture of you sitting on a rock watching your ship sink."

"Bolo?" I ask, slightly unfamiliar with the term.

"Be On the Lookout. You really thought you could hide in plain sight?"

I choose to not respond, and instead do my best to go to sleep. Lord knows I'm going to need it.

When I wake up I find myself not in the truck, or in some sort of jail cell. To my shock I'm inside what looks like an interrogation room. Empty, with a table and two chairs in the center, with a one-way mirror on the wall in front of me. My arms are up above my head, the handcuffs holding me up with the help of a locked shackle. The shackle is high enough up on the wall that I can't sit down. My options are stand or hang there, and after looking down I find that I am completely naked, with my ankles handcuffed together.

I sigh and relax my stature, letting myself hang as I change the distress beacon from level one to level two. I'm about to request a concept comms with Enterprise when the door opens.

"I really don't understand why you called me up here. Why all the secrecy?" The familiar deep voice makes me flinch, and I look up at the door, not bothering to adjust my posture.

"You'll see, just believe me when I say that she isn't who she looks like." Another more feminine voice responds as Karla leads the way in. "Ah, you're finally awake. Did you have a nice nap, Alaska? Or should I call you Allison?"

"The nap was lovely, though it seems a bit breezy in here. Could I at least get a burlap sack or something to protect what modesty I have left?"

"Why not just make it? You're made of nanomaterials."

"I don't have the ability to do that currently." I mumble.

"I see… well, I will see what I can do after our discussion." She writes something in a notepad before turning to the still opened door. "You may enter, Captain."

I turn my attention to the door just as a man in a Navy dress uniform enters, stopping to close the door behind him before looking at me and stopping in his tracks.

"Captain I will remind you again that she is not who she looks like." The lieutenant warns as we both stare at each other.

Eventually he shakes his head and walks over to the table, sitting down beside the lieutenant on the opposite side of the table from where I'm hanging. She pulls out an audio recorder and places it in the middle of the table before looking at it.

"We will now begin interrogation one of Fog subject zero-zero-four. The date is March ninth, 2056. The time is currently thirteen-hundred hours. The only current occupants of the room are the Lieutenant Karla Huffner, Captain Richard Ellis, and the subject."

Now, she looks up at me. "State your name and ship class."

"Alaska. Alaska-class large cruiser." I respond solemnly, my voice as monotone as possible.

"What fleet are you part of and what is your position in command?"

"Raiding fleet Hotel two-six, Golf. Raid command ship."

"You've learned our phonetic alphabet?"

"Yes. All Fog have."

The two look at each other before she continues.

"You said you were a 'raid command ship', does this mean you have superiors? If so, who?"

I remain silent, staring at them both with a neutral expression as per protocol.

After thirty seconds or so the lieutenant leans down into the audio recorder. "It would seem the subject is unwilling to answer the question."

Then she straightens back up and looks at me. "I believe that is enough questions for now."

I nod and she turns off the audio recorder, placing it in her pocket before gathering up her notepad and heading towards the door. The man stands up, and as he passes by I speak up. "I would like to speak with you captain. It would appear we both have some questions for each other."

He stops on the spot and looks at the lieutenant. "Go on, I'll be right behind you." Karla gives him a skeptical look before shrugging and knocking on the door, cuing two guards to open it and let her out, closing the door behind her.

"Go ahead and ask your questions first. It'll be easier that way." I sigh.

"Where did you get your appearance from? You copied it from a human, right?"

"Nope, this is my own look."

"Do you know if these two girls were killed by your kind?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet and retrieves a picture of my sister and I.

"They're both alive and healthy." I respond, knowing where he's going with this.

"They are…? How can you be so sure?"

"Because I talked to Danielle two days ago and I'm right here you fuckin' dinosaur." I chuckle.

He looks at me with a mix of surprise and anxiety that both quickly turn to anger. "You lie! Both my daughters are gone, and now you sit here, a Mental Model with my eldest's face and body! Do you presume to mock me? To insult us even after you deprive us of resources and communication!?"

"You want me to prove it to you? Ask me any question about my childhood."

He glares at me, as if my words are a vile poison. "What did I get my daughters for Christmas two years ago?"

"You got Danielle a three-ring binder full of every ship class made by america, and you got me that old piece of shit truck that you couldn't fix."

His eyes gleam for a second before he scowls. "What is my wife's maiden name?"

"Lee. Same as my middle name."

He seems to be on the verge of tears now, but stoically holds it back, showing a strong face as he always did. "What did my daughter, the one you say you are, want to do with her life?"

"I wanted to be a machinist. Same as grandpa."

He swallows, seeming to have trouble as he does. "I. . . I see. . . I will see to getting you something to clothe yourself with. I. . . I need to go think." He says as he turns and leaves the room, his eyes full of pain.

I wait for the door to close before letting out a sigh and adjusting myself so my shoulders don't hurt as much.

'I hope he believes me.'

I'm left completely to my lonesome for the entirety of that day. Nothing to do but hang and think. By the next morning it feels like my shoulders are about ready to tear off. My dad never came through with the clothes, and given that they turned the temperature way down in the room I'm shaking like a leaf by eight the next morning. Thankfully they turn the temperature up at half past ten, and then the door opens at eleven.

No surprise to me, the lieutenant walks in first, as stoic as ever. Then in walks my dad, in his uniform with a laptop under one arm. Then to my surprise walks in two soldiers, who move to stand in either corner of the room to my left and right.

A third soldier pushes in a covered cart and leaves, closing the door behind him. My dad sits down and opens up his computer, tapping on the keyboard and trackpad several times while the lieutenant pulls a video camera and tripod from the cart, quickly setting it up.

"This is interogation two of Fog subject zero-zero-four. Today is March tenth, 2056. The time is currently eleven-oh-eight. The people in the room are Lieutenant Karla Huffner, Captain Richard Ellis, Sergeant Maximilian Brown, Sergeant Michael Houston, and subject four."

Then she turns to me and sits down. "We'll start in the same way as yesterday. What is your name and ship class?"

"Alaska. Alaska-class battlecruiser."

At the change she furrows her brow. "You said large cruiser yesterday. Why the change?"

"Because they're the same fucking thing." I chuckle lightly.

Karla looks at the soldier in the corner to my left and nods at him. I turn my head to watch him pull his gloves on snugly and stride up to me, giving me a punch in the gut that knocks the air outta my lungs. I cough and wheeze for a minute, trying to breathe as she asks the next question.

"You mentioned yesterday you were a raid command ship. Does this mean you have superiors you answer to, and if so, who?"

"Yes, and fuck off, I ain't telling."

The same soldier steps up and gives me another punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me again.

While I'm catching my breath Karla repeats the question, and once I have enough wind in me to form a sentence I look over at the soldier who stands ready. "You sure know how to steal my breath away. Hit me any harder and I might just start to like it!"

At this point I'm simply following the rules laid out for the fleet by Enterprise. One of which being "if captured, don't tell 'em a damn thing about our command structure".

I continue to be belligerent for two hours, earning myself a punch for each of the dozens of smartass answers I came up with. Eventually they just pack it up and leave, with my dad staying behind like he did yesterday.

"Why are you so stubborn? Just tell them what they want to know and you won't be hurt like this."

"Because, if I tell them what they want to know, not only will they have no reason to keep me alive, but the Fog will have a reason to kill me." I respond, tasting copper.

"If you were one of them why would they kill you?"

"Even the Fog have rules. You think I'd willingly take a beating like this? No. I'm just trying to stay alive, from both parties."

" . . . . . What elementary school did my daughters go to?" He suddenly asks me, changing the subject.

"Dufur school, from elementary to high school."

"You claim to be my daughter, and admittedly your replies have been spot on. If that is true though, why would the fog take people captive. All they do is kill!"

"To learn, and for more ships. Tell no one."

"To learn? That is the point of your mental models, is it not? And what do you mean more ships?"

I glance nervously at the door before responding. "The Fog still don't have a grasp on what tactics are, so they capture people and use them to expand that knowledge. And as for what I mean by more ships… when they kidnap people they give them a choice to fight with them or die."

"You are saying that the Fog is forcing people to fight for them? A form of mind control, brainwashing?" He asks me, clearly intrigued and worried all at once.

"Brainwashing? Not even close. They implant them with a union core, and after that if the person doesn't fight all they have to do is give the union core a kill code. The nanomaterials injected into the blood simply turn to sand, and they die a very slow and miserable death."

"I see. And if what you say is true, and you are . . . . Who you say you are. You were attacked or captured and had this done to you then?" He asks,shivering slightly at my description.

"Yeah. It's me pops. I… I know there's probably a lot of damage on my head but… I was just following orders."

"That phrase gets used so often." He says with a heavy breath. "How?"

I grin, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. "Well… I uh… the tuna were in close and I wanted to go fishing."

"I see. . . . .I'll keep trying for those clothes." He says, turning toward the door.

"Hey." I grab his attention. "I know I've never said it much, but… I love you. Thanks for being a dad, instead of a father."

He shakes his head as he leaves, a tear flying off and landing on the floor as the door closes behind him without a word.

Once again I'm left alone for the rest of the day. That night though it's like they cranked the heat way up, and come morning I'm dripping with sweat, having not been able to sleep the entire night.

At 0900 sharp the door is opened, and Karla walks in. I expect to see my dad behind her, but only the two soldiers come in after her, pushing that covered cart so that it's near me. Karla once again sets up the video camera and starts recording before doing her usual beginning spiel.

"This is interrogation three of Fog subject zero-zero-four. Today is March eleventh, 2056. The time is nine-oh-six. The people in the room are Lieutenant Karla Huffner, Sergeant Maximilian Brown, Sergeant Michael Houston, and subject four."

She looks over her shoulder at me and grins before looking back at the camera. "Today is also a DOD-approved experiment involving the introduction of exterior electricity currents to Fog."

At first I don't understand what she's talking about, and then the soldiers pull the cover off the cart.

"A battery and jumper cables? Are you kidding me?"

"There's more where that came from. Now, give your name and ship class."