Hey guys! I love the support! I promise I'll try to pick up the pace. I had strep throat, so I felt extremely terrible and then my computer broke… ughh it was a nightmare. But guys, reviews are lovely! I need all the help I can get. So without further ado, here's Chapter 4!

Ridley POV

I don't understand, I don't understand…

The room is dark, the only light coming from a window on the side. All I hear are cruel voices speaking, 'she's not ready', 'too young', 'never attempted at this age', 'she won't survive'. What do you mean, 'I won't survive'? What am I supposed to survive?

Suddenly, a voice fills the room through a speaker, "Termination test 31, subject is of nine years, the feral is of twelve."

Feral? What's a feral? Am I the subject? I don't understand… Please, tell me what's happening!

A door creaks open on the other side of the room, but does not bring light in it's wake. I hear footsteps walking towards me, but I don't see the source.

"The test has begun," the voice finishes, almost forlornly, sorrowful. What test! This isn't like the others.

A figure walks into what little light is in the room. When I see who it is, I am confused. Aghast.

"Toby?" I say, puzzled as to why my friend looks so… primal.

His eyes are filled with a look I've never seen before. It's filled with… instinct. Filled with hatred… for me, for everything.

"Toby, what's wrong?" I ask, frightened. He's acting like an animal. The only reply to my question is a hiss. I feel sick.

Toby hurtles toward me, arms outstretched, intent to kill in his eyes, and a hiss sliding out of his mouth.

What? Toby, what are you doing? You're my friend. Why are you looking at me like that? What has happened? My thoughts swirl, out of order.

I find myself pinned against the wall, Toby's hands at my throat. The rest of the world falls away, and all I think is… survive. My hands encircle his neck and my thoughts limit to one thought, different from survive. I feel like a child, I feel myself falling away, I can only focus on one thing, one thought:

I don't understand… I don't understand…

And then I twist.

I awake with a start. Another nightmare. They seem to be getting worse. My body is covered in sweat, and my heart still pounds. No matter what I do, I can't forget what happened. I get out of bed and move as quietly as I can to my footlocker without waking up anyone else in the crew quarters.

I grab my special whiskey and leave the room, too pumped full of adrenaline to even think of going back to sleep. Nightmares do that.

The mess hall seems empty enough when I come out, but a voice startles me when I pass the table.

"Can't sleep?" the voice asks, more serious than teasing.

I turn and see Liara's contemplative face.

"Yeah," I say, setting the bottle down on the table and give her a look, "You too?"

"Mmm," she says, as she pulls the bottle to her to examine it, "I take it you took the label off of this bottle for a reason?" she continues as I go to fetch two glasses.

"Not for illegal reasons, I assure you. I just find that drinking games are so much more fun when your opponent doesn't know what they're drinking," I reply with a smirk, handing her a glass.

"Well, you've lucked out on me. I'm not very good at drinking games," she says, with a hint of amusement.

"No worries, I'm not in the mood anyway," I say, pouring us our drinks.

"Is the reason for that what made you be awake at this hour?"

I look into my glass, as if searching for the answer to her question in the fiery whiskey's depths, "Maybe."

"Is that Ridley code for yes?

"'Ridley code'? Seriously Liara?"

"Just trying to have a bit of fun. But really, why are you awake?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

She sits in silence for a few moments, as if planning her words with expert precision.

"I'm just trying to get used to the ship, I guess. And the sleeper pods. By the way, why don't you use them? The sleeper pods."

"I don't like them. Too isolating. I prefer a bed. It's probably a force of habit as well." We sip the whiskey,contemplative and a silence ensues.

"What is it that woke you up?" she asks, startling me and causing me to look off in the distance.

"Something I tried to forget. Something that I don't think I ever can forget."

She nodded, trying to understand. "I think I know how you feel. I've seen some terrible things, but nothing really horrific. It's different for you though, as an assassin you must have been in more than a few unfavorable places.

I smirked. If she only knew. I sipped my whiskey, letting the sultry taste overwhelm me. I suddenly felt the need to raise my glass to something, anything, if only to banish the memory of my nightmare. As I lifted my glass, so did she. "To terrible things, and conquering them." I said in a condemning voice. She nodded her head, and we drained our glasses.