He was turning around. Good.
He was leaving her alone. Good.
He wa giving up on whatever stupid, mean-spirited thing he was trying to pull over on her. Excellent. She wasn’t going to have to deal with his irritating, fake-friendly attitude, his smugness, the imperious way he looked down his nose at her, like most people who knew in their hearts that they were generally superior to her did.
She could go about her business, go check out the engineering deck as she had been so eager to do, and get started on patching up this horrendous mess without being bothered by some Capitol City snob with entitlement issues who wanted to screw with her. Good good good.
For him to turn away without a word and just leave was perfect.
Except that, as the doors slid open and she turned to step in, something caught her eye. It was the way he had frozen, mid-step - when he should have been striding away at a carefully calculated pace which implied both regality and nonchalance.
Unable to resist her curiosity - what, was it some new, weird way to screw with her? That didn’t seem likely - Riley leaned slightly in a subtle attempt to see around him, but found herself unable to see what he was looking at. She was just about to give up and enter the lift, not particularly concerned with whatever it was that seemed to have the annoying synth’s attention - when suddenly the guy was whirling and lunging at her!
Initially failing to notice the urgently distraught look on the synth’s face, Riley barked out some kind of unintelligible curse, and immediately moved to shove back, which was a hopeless gesture but she had to stick up for herself no matter-
The color drained from Riley’s face as she saw it. As she saw him. Heard him. As she stood frozen in stark, nightmarish terror, the doors closing on Ike’s crumpling, smouldering form.
She stood there for what seemed like hours, trying to make sense of what had just happened and completely failing to come anywhere close. She couldn’t even deny that it had just happened, because she couldn’t comprehend it in the first place. She was dead to the world. She wasn’t even breathing.
Except she had done one thing. The engineer didn’t realize she had her palm mashed onto the emergency stop button until the mild ache of having smacked it too hard reached her brain, and even then with a dull irrelevance. With one violently trembling hand she was fumbling clumsily about in her tool bag, not even consciously aware of what she was looking for unti the second or third time her hand had blindly grasped it. The solid iron, old-fashioned, red and black monkey wrench that was almost completely useless except for hitting people with. Which was exactly why she kept it around.
She was not in control of herself. She was watching, dreamlike, as a terrified girl smashed a wrench into an elevator panel, which was old and neglected enough to flop open on the first go. She watched passively, thinking about something that had happened a very long time ago involving the tang of seared flesh and a gurgling sound and an elevator door, as the girl frantically plunged a hand into the exposed guts of the lift and yanked it out again, snapping several wires which sparked in protest. Wires which controlled the automatic lockdown triggered by the emergency stop, and possibly the lights and speakers.
M’Draani genetic engineering at work. Being able to target the specific wire she needed among a tangled spaghetti of copper and rubber while in a state of total, blind panic seemed like an inhuman impossibility - but there was a reason why the recruiters had specifically been instructed to find a M’Draani engineer.
The lights inside the lift died immediately, leaving her in pitch black. Of course the emergency lights wouldn’t work. Hardly anything on this old tub did. But the lift still ran, and she had slammed the butt of the wrench down onto the key that would return her to the previous floor in the second after yanking out the wires. She shrugged off the tool bag and let it fall unheeded to the floor without a conscious thought. She didn’t feel the sensation of rising so much as she assumed it was there. She didn’t feel much of anything. She was floating inside her own body, encased in an airy shell of total, isolating panic.
Had it all been an action movie, she would have cried out Ike’s name in the dramatic moment just as the doors closed. Had she been the hero of an action movie, she would have made some kind of clever one-liner as she prepared her valiant counterattack. But this was not a film, and Riley was no hero. Heroes didn’t shake like leaves as they clung white-knuckled to their makeshift weapon. A hero would have had enough forethought to hit an alarm or something in order to alert the rest of the crew to an active shooter on board. But Riley was no hero, and this pathetic, desperate, adrenaline-fueled folly was the best she was going to manage.
Riley thought of nothing. Her mind was a blank - but far from some inner peace, it was a sickening numbness that made her light headed and unsteady.
A thin sliver of light appeared as the doors opened, likely(But not definitely) having given no indication on the outside that it was going to do so.
Riley’s throat seemed to close up. She couldn’t breathe. This was all a nightmare and she would have no part of it. Her body acted with animal fear - the same animal fear that made a small creature bite at the maw of the predator that had already snapped it’s back. The instinctual terror of being cornered with nowhere else to go, and lashing out at something indestructible without even meaning to.
The sliver of light turned into a beam, then a bar - and the instant the doors had opened wide enough for her to fit through, the small girl blindly leaped through to - what? She had no idea. Her brain was still watching the doors close, trying to understand what the sound that Ike made could mean. Trying to get herself to move.
The only chance she had - the closest thing to an ‘advantage’ - was that they probably didn’t expect the lift to return so rapidly, and they most certainly weren’t expecting a flailing ball of freakout to come shooting through as though fired from a cannon.
Leaping clumsily, ungracefully through the widening threshold, Riley appeared from the shadows within and just plowed into whoever happened to be on the other side, not unlike some kind of frightened flying squirrel. Whoever she happened to make contact with would find the runt slamming into their midsection like a very small football player.Then, whether or not she managed to knock them to the ground, they would have to deal with an olive-clad redhead trying wildly and animalistically to murder them as brutally as possible with a wrench - all with a face that was a mask of mindless desperation and something that resembled rage only because the exertion had her gritting her teeth and snarling silently. There was no war cry, no dialogue at all.
She wasn't even brave. Just stupid and afraid. It only happened that those things together could induce desperate action. There was no technique to her attack - only sheer brutality, and a complete lack of concern for the life of whever she was madly assaulting.
If she wasn’t able to immediately crash into anyone, she would stumble to a half-stop and whirl around, then charge for the first person she saw - regardless of what kind of, or how many deadly weapons they may have leveled on her. M’Draani lives were valuable out in Ringworld - but in M’Draan they were worthless. Riley Mlles had been taught all her life that she was absolutely expendable - and while she did not necessarily agree with that, the notion remained and affected her actions nonetheless.
And if there was nobody on the other side of that elevator door, then he would likely either stumble over Ike’s heaped form and onto her face or smash straight into a wall.
He was leaving her alone. Good.
He wa giving up on whatever stupid, mean-spirited thing he was trying to pull over on her. Excellent. She wasn’t going to have to deal with his irritating, fake-friendly attitude, his smugness, the imperious way he looked down his nose at her, like most people who knew in their hearts that they were generally superior to her did.
She could go about her business, go check out the engineering deck as she had been so eager to do, and get started on patching up this horrendous mess without being bothered by some Capitol City snob with entitlement issues who wanted to screw with her. Good good good.
For him to turn away without a word and just leave was perfect.
Except that, as the doors slid open and she turned to step in, something caught her eye. It was the way he had frozen, mid-step - when he should have been striding away at a carefully calculated pace which implied both regality and nonchalance.
Unable to resist her curiosity - what, was it some new, weird way to screw with her? That didn’t seem likely - Riley leaned slightly in a subtle attempt to see around him, but found herself unable to see what he was looking at. She was just about to give up and enter the lift, not particularly concerned with whatever it was that seemed to have the annoying synth’s attention - when suddenly the guy was whirling and lunging at her!
Initially failing to notice the urgently distraught look on the synth’s face, Riley barked out some kind of unintelligible curse, and immediately moved to shove back, which was a hopeless gesture but she had to stick up for herself no matter-
The color drained from Riley’s face as she saw it. As she saw him. Heard him. As she stood frozen in stark, nightmarish terror, the doors closing on Ike’s crumpling, smouldering form.
She stood there for what seemed like hours, trying to make sense of what had just happened and completely failing to come anywhere close. She couldn’t even deny that it had just happened, because she couldn’t comprehend it in the first place. She was dead to the world. She wasn’t even breathing.
Except she had done one thing. The engineer didn’t realize she had her palm mashed onto the emergency stop button until the mild ache of having smacked it too hard reached her brain, and even then with a dull irrelevance. With one violently trembling hand she was fumbling clumsily about in her tool bag, not even consciously aware of what she was looking for unti the second or third time her hand had blindly grasped it. The solid iron, old-fashioned, red and black monkey wrench that was almost completely useless except for hitting people with. Which was exactly why she kept it around.
She was not in control of herself. She was watching, dreamlike, as a terrified girl smashed a wrench into an elevator panel, which was old and neglected enough to flop open on the first go. She watched passively, thinking about something that had happened a very long time ago involving the tang of seared flesh and a gurgling sound and an elevator door, as the girl frantically plunged a hand into the exposed guts of the lift and yanked it out again, snapping several wires which sparked in protest. Wires which controlled the automatic lockdown triggered by the emergency stop, and possibly the lights and speakers.
M’Draani genetic engineering at work. Being able to target the specific wire she needed among a tangled spaghetti of copper and rubber while in a state of total, blind panic seemed like an inhuman impossibility - but there was a reason why the recruiters had specifically been instructed to find a M’Draani engineer.
The lights inside the lift died immediately, leaving her in pitch black. Of course the emergency lights wouldn’t work. Hardly anything on this old tub did. But the lift still ran, and she had slammed the butt of the wrench down onto the key that would return her to the previous floor in the second after yanking out the wires. She shrugged off the tool bag and let it fall unheeded to the floor without a conscious thought. She didn’t feel the sensation of rising so much as she assumed it was there. She didn’t feel much of anything. She was floating inside her own body, encased in an airy shell of total, isolating panic.
Had it all been an action movie, she would have cried out Ike’s name in the dramatic moment just as the doors closed. Had she been the hero of an action movie, she would have made some kind of clever one-liner as she prepared her valiant counterattack. But this was not a film, and Riley was no hero. Heroes didn’t shake like leaves as they clung white-knuckled to their makeshift weapon. A hero would have had enough forethought to hit an alarm or something in order to alert the rest of the crew to an active shooter on board. But Riley was no hero, and this pathetic, desperate, adrenaline-fueled folly was the best she was going to manage.
Riley thought of nothing. Her mind was a blank - but far from some inner peace, it was a sickening numbness that made her light headed and unsteady.
A thin sliver of light appeared as the doors opened, likely(But not definitely) having given no indication on the outside that it was going to do so.
Riley’s throat seemed to close up. She couldn’t breathe. This was all a nightmare and she would have no part of it. Her body acted with animal fear - the same animal fear that made a small creature bite at the maw of the predator that had already snapped it’s back. The instinctual terror of being cornered with nowhere else to go, and lashing out at something indestructible without even meaning to.
The sliver of light turned into a beam, then a bar - and the instant the doors had opened wide enough for her to fit through, the small girl blindly leaped through to - what? She had no idea. Her brain was still watching the doors close, trying to understand what the sound that Ike made could mean. Trying to get herself to move.
The only chance she had - the closest thing to an ‘advantage’ - was that they probably didn’t expect the lift to return so rapidly, and they most certainly weren’t expecting a flailing ball of freakout to come shooting through as though fired from a cannon.
Leaping clumsily, ungracefully through the widening threshold, Riley appeared from the shadows within and just plowed into whoever happened to be on the other side, not unlike some kind of frightened flying squirrel. Whoever she happened to make contact with would find the runt slamming into their midsection like a very small football player.Then, whether or not she managed to knock them to the ground, they would have to deal with an olive-clad redhead trying wildly and animalistically to murder them as brutally as possible with a wrench - all with a face that was a mask of mindless desperation and something that resembled rage only because the exertion had her gritting her teeth and snarling silently. There was no war cry, no dialogue at all.
She wasn't even brave. Just stupid and afraid. It only happened that those things together could induce desperate action. There was no technique to her attack - only sheer brutality, and a complete lack of concern for the life of whever she was madly assaulting.
If she wasn’t able to immediately crash into anyone, she would stumble to a half-stop and whirl around, then charge for the first person she saw - regardless of what kind of, or how many deadly weapons they may have leveled on her. M’Draani lives were valuable out in Ringworld - but in M’Draan they were worthless. Riley Mlles had been taught all her life that she was absolutely expendable - and while she did not necessarily agree with that, the notion remained and affected her actions nonetheless.
And if there was nobody on the other side of that elevator door, then he would likely either stumble over Ike’s heaped form and onto her face or smash straight into a wall.
The aged captain grinned once more before setting himself next to the wall. Placing a hand on the thick hull wall, he felt the sturdiness of the ship merge with his own metallic hulking body. Within the security of this ship he never felt alone, felt strong and though the help of friends and drink : sane.
"Oh don't worry, I think drink is the least of our problems with these younguns. They'll get used to it eventually, it's only a matter of time." He spoke before draining his own cup once more, it wasn't a precise manoeuvre, but eons of experience made sure it all reached its target and slunk down his throat.
"Shall we take a walk around the ship? See how everyone else is getting along?"
As Ike crumpled to the floor his last feeling was not one of relief at having apparently saved Riley from harm, triumph from having caught the shot, a burning desire for revenge. Instead his feeling was one of screaming and overwhelming pain, pain that tunneled into his back and ripped at his flesh. He'd never felt anything like it before and within moment the Synth's brain simply shut down rather than endure anymore, so utterly overwhelmed by the weight and strength of this new emotion.
His attacker moved quickly, signalling to their companion further down the corridor to come join her. Within seconds she was upon the crumpled and castrate form of the fallen machine, binding his arms with vicious speed and tightness. No matter how defeated the machine currently was she knew it would recover in time and when that came, she was taking no chances.
All of this speed was based off a single misconception however, that the small runt of an engineer who had watched this, the M'Draani known as Riley was going to call for aid. They needed to be quicker, they needed to pull the Synth at least away and fulfill part of their mission.
So it was that neither noticed the lift returning at first, the woman so preoccupied in binding Ike and the other: a male carrying a scimitar: light laser rifle who crouched attentively watching the corridor. As such the sliver of silver reached them far too late for either to react in time.
Within seconds however they heard the noise of the charging engineer and the female, who had just finished wrapping a gag around the crumpled body looked up in time to get a faceful of panic driven M'Dranni. She narrowly dodged the wildly swinging wrench, only to get sent flying by the rest of the leaping body. "You wee M'Dranni c***!" She cursed in pure disgust and hatred of the figure now attempting to do her in.
It was a hatred born of generations and generations of work, countless families had passed down and honned this hatred to a sharp needle, capable of stabbing through just about any defence of rational or free thought. All that followed in it's wake was a desire to kill, or at the very least destroy all that held everything she'd been programmed to loathe.
"What'che standin' aboot for ye ****ing roaster! Help me wit this runt." She seemed ready to strick out at her fellow comrade, ordering him into the fight before swinging it it with the same gusto that her opponent flung her wrench about. Each moment in the skirmish no matter how many blows the woman would tank, using her arms to deflect the blows she keep swinging back. Dents quickly revealing a pair of augmented arms.
The man behind after quickly giving up on a shot that wouldn't hit his ally moved in and with full force swung the butt of his rifle down with full force towards the back of Riley's head. The blow itself was what he hoped would swiftly bring the fight to it's conclusion, fury at this runt for the interruption and desperation to finish this before anyone cane along spuring the blow onwards.
"Oh don't worry, I think drink is the least of our problems with these younguns. They'll get used to it eventually, it's only a matter of time." He spoke before draining his own cup once more, it wasn't a precise manoeuvre, but eons of experience made sure it all reached its target and slunk down his throat.
"Shall we take a walk around the ship? See how everyone else is getting along?"
As Ike crumpled to the floor his last feeling was not one of relief at having apparently saved Riley from harm, triumph from having caught the shot, a burning desire for revenge. Instead his feeling was one of screaming and overwhelming pain, pain that tunneled into his back and ripped at his flesh. He'd never felt anything like it before and within moment the Synth's brain simply shut down rather than endure anymore, so utterly overwhelmed by the weight and strength of this new emotion.
His attacker moved quickly, signalling to their companion further down the corridor to come join her. Within seconds she was upon the crumpled and castrate form of the fallen machine, binding his arms with vicious speed and tightness. No matter how defeated the machine currently was she knew it would recover in time and when that came, she was taking no chances.
All of this speed was based off a single misconception however, that the small runt of an engineer who had watched this, the M'Draani known as Riley was going to call for aid. They needed to be quicker, they needed to pull the Synth at least away and fulfill part of their mission.
So it was that neither noticed the lift returning at first, the woman so preoccupied in binding Ike and the other: a male carrying a scimitar: light laser rifle who crouched attentively watching the corridor. As such the sliver of silver reached them far too late for either to react in time.
Within seconds however they heard the noise of the charging engineer and the female, who had just finished wrapping a gag around the crumpled body looked up in time to get a faceful of panic driven M'Dranni. She narrowly dodged the wildly swinging wrench, only to get sent flying by the rest of the leaping body. "You wee M'Dranni c***!" She cursed in pure disgust and hatred of the figure now attempting to do her in.
It was a hatred born of generations and generations of work, countless families had passed down and honned this hatred to a sharp needle, capable of stabbing through just about any defence of rational or free thought. All that followed in it's wake was a desire to kill, or at the very least destroy all that held everything she'd been programmed to loathe.
"What'che standin' aboot for ye ****ing roaster! Help me wit this runt." She seemed ready to strick out at her fellow comrade, ordering him into the fight before swinging it it with the same gusto that her opponent flung her wrench about. Each moment in the skirmish no matter how many blows the woman would tank, using her arms to deflect the blows she keep swinging back. Dents quickly revealing a pair of augmented arms.
The man behind after quickly giving up on a shot that wouldn't hit his ally moved in and with full force swung the butt of his rifle down with full force towards the back of Riley's head. The blow itself was what he hoped would swiftly bring the fight to it's conclusion, fury at this runt for the interruption and desperation to finish this before anyone cane along spuring the blow onwards.
Robert thought about it for about a second and replied “sure, let’s go,” and got out of his seat with a quick push and casually walked to the door. And then realized something and asked “hey Kato, where are we going first?”
The instant she heard that accent - that stupid, dopey accent that only exemplified the dumb brutes that they all were, something changed inside Riley. All of a sudden, this wasn’t some random moment in time, some chance event that she just happened to be a part of.
All of a sudden, this had become the war.
It had become the moment she had always been waiting for - the moment when she would get the chance to rid the world of some sliver of th Mortugan menace. The moment where she could revel in the glory of being a real, honest-to-Mars M’Draani soldier. The moment where, if she were to die, it would be a glorious death - the death that all good M’Draani militants dreamed of.
Over the past two years, Riley’s loathing of the Morts had waned, if only due to her lack of exposure to the propaganda that had been ever-present in her life since birth. She had even met one during that time - and while she certainly didn’t like them, she found with some discomfort that she didn’t really hate them either. They were just another person, struggling to get by in a world that had scattered them to the wolves. They had shared something then.
But this was different. This was everything she had been taught would come around. This was another M’ortugan attack. An ambush. Just the kind of dirty trick they would pull.
The same black-hearted loathing, the boiling, seething hatred that the attacker felt, Riley too experienced. But for Riley, being abruptly thrown into the past in a screaming shock of adrenaline had the effect of focusing her rage, morphing her aimless panic into something more useful. Not that she was any less terrified - but she had been spurred into action by thee Mort bitch’s voice.
Not that there was much she could really do -except think a little faster and enable her to consider something outside of her animalistic need to pummel in the face of this worthless sack of Mort dung. Several perceptions of her environment passed through the girl’s head;
Ike was bound - and so presumably not dead.
More importantly, there was a cluster of exposed piping running vertically from floor to ceiling in a notch in the wall to one side. Piping marked with various symbols that implied potentially dangerous gasses or fluids. They were rusted to a perfectly atrocious degree and looked like they had been worn down to the bare minimum of integrity.
Her opponent was equipped with augmented arms, meaning she was even more @#$%ed than she’d originally surmised.
Those pipes really did look flimsy.
Such was the extent of her situational awareness in the critical moment. Had she been bred a M’Draani Marine, or even a footsoldier, she would have been aware of so much more. But as it were, only the things she was naturally predisposed to notice would stand out to here - and the realization of Ike’s status had been purely luck. Nothing at all to do with the wracking guilt that was totally not already bubbling up within her subconscious. She under no circumstances felt that this was somehow her fault, nor was she hating herself for not having reacted quick enough to pull him into the lift with her. Certainly nothing of the sort.
Taking a metal fist-or-elbow-or-arm-or-something to the face as she shifted from blindly mauling whatever was in front of her to making a passionate attempt to relieve the filthy Mort of her swine-like nose, Riley had time to do two things.
She spit a wad of phlegmy blood onto the floor and, more importantly, she ceased her assault on the woman long enough to fling the wrench with all her might at the decrepit pipes behind her. Riley had always had a pretty mean throwing arm, given that at her size, throwing things at people from afar was a much better means of self defense than trying to actually fight them. All the pent-up hatred and adrenaline, all the very last dregs of her energy was put into that pitch.
Maybe it would do something helpful. Maybe she could damage one of the pipes just enough to create some kind of gas leak, or maybe one was under enough pressure to blow out. Maybe it would trigger an alarm of some kind. Maybe it would pierce one just enough to spit out a whistling spout of something toxic and scalding.
Or maybe it would do nothing at all.
She didn’t retain consciousness long enough to find out.
All of a sudden, this had become the war.
It had become the moment she had always been waiting for - the moment when she would get the chance to rid the world of some sliver of th Mortugan menace. The moment where she could revel in the glory of being a real, honest-to-Mars M’Draani soldier. The moment where, if she were to die, it would be a glorious death - the death that all good M’Draani militants dreamed of.
Over the past two years, Riley’s loathing of the Morts had waned, if only due to her lack of exposure to the propaganda that had been ever-present in her life since birth. She had even met one during that time - and while she certainly didn’t like them, she found with some discomfort that she didn’t really hate them either. They were just another person, struggling to get by in a world that had scattered them to the wolves. They had shared something then.
But this was different. This was everything she had been taught would come around. This was another M’ortugan attack. An ambush. Just the kind of dirty trick they would pull.
The same black-hearted loathing, the boiling, seething hatred that the attacker felt, Riley too experienced. But for Riley, being abruptly thrown into the past in a screaming shock of adrenaline had the effect of focusing her rage, morphing her aimless panic into something more useful. Not that she was any less terrified - but she had been spurred into action by thee Mort bitch’s voice.
Not that there was much she could really do -except think a little faster and enable her to consider something outside of her animalistic need to pummel in the face of this worthless sack of Mort dung. Several perceptions of her environment passed through the girl’s head;
Ike was bound - and so presumably not dead.
More importantly, there was a cluster of exposed piping running vertically from floor to ceiling in a notch in the wall to one side. Piping marked with various symbols that implied potentially dangerous gasses or fluids. They were rusted to a perfectly atrocious degree and looked like they had been worn down to the bare minimum of integrity.
Her opponent was equipped with augmented arms, meaning she was even more @#$%ed than she’d originally surmised.
Those pipes really did look flimsy.
Such was the extent of her situational awareness in the critical moment. Had she been bred a M’Draani Marine, or even a footsoldier, she would have been aware of so much more. But as it were, only the things she was naturally predisposed to notice would stand out to here - and the realization of Ike’s status had been purely luck. Nothing at all to do with the wracking guilt that was totally not already bubbling up within her subconscious. She under no circumstances felt that this was somehow her fault, nor was she hating herself for not having reacted quick enough to pull him into the lift with her. Certainly nothing of the sort.
Taking a metal fist-or-elbow-or-arm-or-something to the face as she shifted from blindly mauling whatever was in front of her to making a passionate attempt to relieve the filthy Mort of her swine-like nose, Riley had time to do two things.
She spit a wad of phlegmy blood onto the floor and, more importantly, she ceased her assault on the woman long enough to fling the wrench with all her might at the decrepit pipes behind her. Riley had always had a pretty mean throwing arm, given that at her size, throwing things at people from afar was a much better means of self defense than trying to actually fight them. All the pent-up hatred and adrenaline, all the very last dregs of her energy was put into that pitch.
Maybe it would do something helpful. Maybe she could damage one of the pipes just enough to create some kind of gas leak, or maybe one was under enough pressure to blow out. Maybe it would trigger an alarm of some kind. Maybe it would pierce one just enough to spit out a whistling spout of something toxic and scalding.
Or maybe it would do nothing at all.
She didn’t retain consciousness long enough to find out.
Kato shrugged before doing a quick scan of new recruits and their positions about the ship, doing his best to identify the best areas to visit. As he did so the voice of the young runt like engineer wafted into his head. Demanding a visit from the aging and decrepit captain.
"How about we give that redheaded runt a look, see if they've gotten up to anything or are still exploring." He paused before strolling over to the door. "What do you say? Wanna give her a visit?"
That b@#*h was a tough one, especially for a price of M'Draani scum.
The voice of gruding respect slipt through the head, tumbling like a worm through the cyborgs brain. She'd never been face to face with her mortal enemy before, only in stories had she heard tales of their ferocious and vicious attacks, now she saw it. They we're no better than vicious animals, randomly triking out at everything in their path.
Animals that needed to be put down.
Not for a second did the seed of doubt put a dent in Annag's fighting, it just made her more angry. She'd spent too long in federal territory, too long away from the truth and now their lies we're worming their way into her head. The M'Draani didn't deserve respect, only a painful death.
The clang of another blow, barely deflected away from her face by a metallic arm, served only to further confuse the woman. Not visibly of course, she'd trained far too long for a moment like this, arms removed at birth, trained 19 years to operate cyborg ones in deadly close quarters. She'd waited her entire life to aid the war effort and now her time had come.
The sensation of metal colliding with flesh, the sight of a fist breaking through and slamming into that wild runts head, filled her with satisfaction. She was better, Mortuga was better, she was going to win, that animal was going to be conquered. Yet that runt had taken a full blow and kept going.
For a second she contemplated yelling furiously out at her companion to help, but that was effort. Effort she couldn't spare, not now, not when she was so close to victory.
The wrench flew and sailed past her head, missing completely. Without that tool the fight was decided and Annag knew it, she knew the runt knew it too, something wasn't right. In the corner of her eye she watched the rifle slam into the tiny scum and felt as much as saw the body crumple to the ground.
The wires! She was going to take out the wires, that crazy b*-!
The pipes crumpled under the impact and buckled, venting a jet of steam en-route to the coolant systems into the Morts face. The entire thing feeling to all those involved like a slow motion disaster. The ripple of metal as the tool collided, the way it crumpled up and ripped in half, the sudden jet bursting forth, the wild flailing movements of the severed pipe, the death throes of a dying animal, the blood of the ship.
The blood that exacted it's price.
A outlying jet flung itself over Annag's body, boiling a line across her right chest and across the jaw and forehead. A swift movement managing to use a metal arm to deflect away from the eyes.
When Riley would awake from her quick nap, the sight would not be a pretty one. The face of a the cyborg glaring down at her own, freshly scarred and burned. Another enemy wounded in the war. "Ye awake no' ya wee runt?"
She'd been placed up against a wall, arms bound tightly behind her back, connected by another length of rope to more bindings which wrapped around her ankles. All trussed up like an animal. This was without all the additional lengths of ropes wrapped around legs and arms, pinning them together, they we're taking no chances, whatever they planned, it would be clear it involved the engineer taking a long trip alongside the similarly trussed Ike a long way away.
"Ney talk? Ya scared ya animal?" The male had taunted from beside, confided in the knowledge that Jo reply was going to be forthcoming, mostly on account of the strip of cloth pulled tightly through Riley's mouth, silencing any backchat.
The woman looked up furtively before sending a glance down at her captives. Were they truly animals needing this? The runt had fought so well- the thought dissapated, she didn't need distractions now. "Let's get ye oot a here."
"How about we give that redheaded runt a look, see if they've gotten up to anything or are still exploring." He paused before strolling over to the door. "What do you say? Wanna give her a visit?"
That b@#*h was a tough one, especially for a price of M'Draani scum.
The voice of gruding respect slipt through the head, tumbling like a worm through the cyborgs brain. She'd never been face to face with her mortal enemy before, only in stories had she heard tales of their ferocious and vicious attacks, now she saw it. They we're no better than vicious animals, randomly triking out at everything in their path.
Animals that needed to be put down.
Not for a second did the seed of doubt put a dent in Annag's fighting, it just made her more angry. She'd spent too long in federal territory, too long away from the truth and now their lies we're worming their way into her head. The M'Draani didn't deserve respect, only a painful death.
The clang of another blow, barely deflected away from her face by a metallic arm, served only to further confuse the woman. Not visibly of course, she'd trained far too long for a moment like this, arms removed at birth, trained 19 years to operate cyborg ones in deadly close quarters. She'd waited her entire life to aid the war effort and now her time had come.
The sensation of metal colliding with flesh, the sight of a fist breaking through and slamming into that wild runts head, filled her with satisfaction. She was better, Mortuga was better, she was going to win, that animal was going to be conquered. Yet that runt had taken a full blow and kept going.
For a second she contemplated yelling furiously out at her companion to help, but that was effort. Effort she couldn't spare, not now, not when she was so close to victory.
The wrench flew and sailed past her head, missing completely. Without that tool the fight was decided and Annag knew it, she knew the runt knew it too, something wasn't right. In the corner of her eye she watched the rifle slam into the tiny scum and felt as much as saw the body crumple to the ground.
The wires! She was going to take out the wires, that crazy b*-!
The pipes crumpled under the impact and buckled, venting a jet of steam en-route to the coolant systems into the Morts face. The entire thing feeling to all those involved like a slow motion disaster. The ripple of metal as the tool collided, the way it crumpled up and ripped in half, the sudden jet bursting forth, the wild flailing movements of the severed pipe, the death throes of a dying animal, the blood of the ship.
The blood that exacted it's price.
A outlying jet flung itself over Annag's body, boiling a line across her right chest and across the jaw and forehead. A swift movement managing to use a metal arm to deflect away from the eyes.
When Riley would awake from her quick nap, the sight would not be a pretty one. The face of a the cyborg glaring down at her own, freshly scarred and burned. Another enemy wounded in the war. "Ye awake no' ya wee runt?"
She'd been placed up against a wall, arms bound tightly behind her back, connected by another length of rope to more bindings which wrapped around her ankles. All trussed up like an animal. This was without all the additional lengths of ropes wrapped around legs and arms, pinning them together, they we're taking no chances, whatever they planned, it would be clear it involved the engineer taking a long trip alongside the similarly trussed Ike a long way away.
"Ney talk? Ya scared ya animal?" The male had taunted from beside, confided in the knowledge that Jo reply was going to be forthcoming, mostly on account of the strip of cloth pulled tightly through Riley's mouth, silencing any backchat.
The woman looked up furtively before sending a glance down at her captives. Were they truly animals needing this? The runt had fought so well- the thought dissapated, she didn't need distractions now. "Let's get ye oot a here."
She followed the robot not impressed by the blasters pulled out by it. She looked at the other robot that had not been used in awhile. She looked back at the robot, “your very cocky for such a small thing...” she said now stepping to the side of the little thing, since there was enough room.
"Cocky?" The voice filled with a sense of smug satisfaction, "I'm merely dispensing the truth. My armour is strong enough and guns tough enough that any intruders will be swiftly dealt with. It'd take some heavy duty weaponry to take me out." It bobbed away to the side.
Slowly it turned and surveyed the drones stationed at random intervals around the hanger, the bay doors on either end thickly sealed shut. "So.. Where's this father of yours then...?"
Slowly it turned and surveyed the drones stationed at random intervals around the hanger, the bay doors on either end thickly sealed shut. "So.. Where's this father of yours then...?"
He shrugged and said “sure, see what trouble she’s getting into.” Laughing a bit, He then opened the door and started walking down the corridor, he wobbled a small bit with some steps, due to being buzzed from the whiskey, and they eventually got to the lift, and he pushed the button, and it didn’t work, “hmm, you’d think they’d at least put a Out Of Order sign, but whatever, we’ll just take the stairs.” he said curiously, And then headed for the stairs.
Riley’s eyes felt like they were going to explode - or maybe they had already exploded, and that was why all she could see was a nothingness that could not properly be called white or black. Yet worse still was the blossom of agony stemming from the back of her neck, like fire that crushed the very bone and threatened to burn up her brain until only the base elements remained.
Conscious thought was not forthcoming. It was like a dream, where time was made up and the points didn’t matter. She was in an unreality - a dimension not of sight nor sound, but of mind. Except without the ‘mind’ part.
There was the vague sensation of movement - of being moved, but the implications of that were lost in an infinite maze of scrambled synapses. There was an equally vague sensation of hot mist falling on her face. That damned filtration system was on the fritz again, she would have to reroute the coolant and dig out the governing circuit or it was gonna’ keep dusting everyone that walked under it. She reached for her toolbag, but the movement nullified itself. It wouldn’t find her hand. It was like those dreams she tended to have on nights where sleep came only barely, where she was trying to read something with her eyes closed and was frustrated that it wasn’t working out.
It had been like drifting off to sleep, in that one can never recall the precise moment at which they passed from wakefulness to unconsciousness - except that instead of drifting there, she had been brutally bashed in that general direction. It was like those mornings when you woke up convinced that you’d only just closed your eyes a second ago. No time at all had passed between flinging the wrench and…
A furious, badly burned face scowled at her, too close for comfort. The girl’s alloyed eyes were glazed and unfocused for a moment as her brain tried to come to terms with everything and reboot itself into something approaching partial functionality. When it did, the eyes focused with a white-hot fury and, already subconsciously aware of her restraint, her first instinct was to lurch forward in an attempt to headbutt the Mort @#$% as hard as she could, entirely unconcerned for how much it would hurt if it actually connected. Not thinking at all about how even if she did get that one extra shot in, it would likely only end up getting the @#$% kicked out of her. That was fine. For all her physical disadvantages, RIles could take a hell of a beating. She’d been doing that most of her life.
That was not to say she was any less frightened. No, Riley was positively terrified. But now that it wasn’t seemingly up to her to try and impulsively save the day, that fear could manifest itself in the form of all the hate and resentment her thick little head could muster. Which was a lot.
Whether or not her sudden headbut connected, whether or not she got her ass beat a little extra, as her conscious perception of it all returned, something else appeared in the stormy eyes; Defiance.
She had even managed to bypass the look of horror that should have come over her as she realized consciously her restrained state. She certainly felt that screaming wave of panic, which slapped against her lungs like a cold, clammy hand and clawed at her heart with icy talons, threatening to drag her down into a cyclic pit of despair and helpless fear. But in being defeated, the steel-hard will of a girl who had fought her whole life to be taken seriously, who had never given up despite being knocked down and reduced to all but dirt over and over - was exposed. Like scratching away the arrogant red paint to expose the virtually indestructible metal beneath. Like a cockroach made of steel. The fact that it couldn’t do anything was irrelevant as long as it was both irritating and impossible to completely destroy.
Riley bucked wildly, ignoring her muscles’ desperate pleas to just chill the @#$% out for a second and regain her strength. A flash of sadistic, infuriatingly mocking triumph glinted in her eyes as she noticed the burns - even if they killed her, she had done some lasting damage, and that was good enough for her.
Biting down on the cloth as she flailed, and flailed, and writhed and bucked and flailed, the girl tried to spout a litany of curses and demonstrative insults and demands, starting with what was supposed to be ’Does that hurt, corpse-@#$%er?” but came out as ”NHG AH RHHT AAGHSHKRH!!” and proceeding from there.
It was easy to make the comparison to a wild animal - even a rabid animal - because this little brat seemed to have a limitless well of energy to draw from, and she was tapping it with a passion. The same little olive-and-pimento colored ball of flailing hate that had come shooting out of the lift was now tied up and gagged, but it didn’t stop her from continuing to be a flailing ball of hate. She just wouldn’t. Stop. Flailing.
They would probably have to knock her out again if they were going to make any progress…
And even then, if this time was any indication, it could be surmised that every subsequent time she returned to consciousness was going to be a startlingly perseverant struggle.
Conscious thought was not forthcoming. It was like a dream, where time was made up and the points didn’t matter. She was in an unreality - a dimension not of sight nor sound, but of mind. Except without the ‘mind’ part.
There was the vague sensation of movement - of being moved, but the implications of that were lost in an infinite maze of scrambled synapses. There was an equally vague sensation of hot mist falling on her face. That damned filtration system was on the fritz again, she would have to reroute the coolant and dig out the governing circuit or it was gonna’ keep dusting everyone that walked under it. She reached for her toolbag, but the movement nullified itself. It wouldn’t find her hand. It was like those dreams she tended to have on nights where sleep came only barely, where she was trying to read something with her eyes closed and was frustrated that it wasn’t working out.
It had been like drifting off to sleep, in that one can never recall the precise moment at which they passed from wakefulness to unconsciousness - except that instead of drifting there, she had been brutally bashed in that general direction. It was like those mornings when you woke up convinced that you’d only just closed your eyes a second ago. No time at all had passed between flinging the wrench and…
A furious, badly burned face scowled at her, too close for comfort. The girl’s alloyed eyes were glazed and unfocused for a moment as her brain tried to come to terms with everything and reboot itself into something approaching partial functionality. When it did, the eyes focused with a white-hot fury and, already subconsciously aware of her restraint, her first instinct was to lurch forward in an attempt to headbutt the Mort @#$% as hard as she could, entirely unconcerned for how much it would hurt if it actually connected. Not thinking at all about how even if she did get that one extra shot in, it would likely only end up getting the @#$% kicked out of her. That was fine. For all her physical disadvantages, RIles could take a hell of a beating. She’d been doing that most of her life.
That was not to say she was any less frightened. No, Riley was positively terrified. But now that it wasn’t seemingly up to her to try and impulsively save the day, that fear could manifest itself in the form of all the hate and resentment her thick little head could muster. Which was a lot.
Whether or not her sudden headbut connected, whether or not she got her ass beat a little extra, as her conscious perception of it all returned, something else appeared in the stormy eyes; Defiance.
She had even managed to bypass the look of horror that should have come over her as she realized consciously her restrained state. She certainly felt that screaming wave of panic, which slapped against her lungs like a cold, clammy hand and clawed at her heart with icy talons, threatening to drag her down into a cyclic pit of despair and helpless fear. But in being defeated, the steel-hard will of a girl who had fought her whole life to be taken seriously, who had never given up despite being knocked down and reduced to all but dirt over and over - was exposed. Like scratching away the arrogant red paint to expose the virtually indestructible metal beneath. Like a cockroach made of steel. The fact that it couldn’t do anything was irrelevant as long as it was both irritating and impossible to completely destroy.
Riley bucked wildly, ignoring her muscles’ desperate pleas to just chill the @#$% out for a second and regain her strength. A flash of sadistic, infuriatingly mocking triumph glinted in her eyes as she noticed the burns - even if they killed her, she had done some lasting damage, and that was good enough for her.
Biting down on the cloth as she flailed, and flailed, and writhed and bucked and flailed, the girl tried to spout a litany of curses and demonstrative insults and demands, starting with what was supposed to be ’Does that hurt, corpse-@#$%er?” but came out as ”NHG AH RHHT AAGHSHKRH!!” and proceeding from there.
It was easy to make the comparison to a wild animal - even a rabid animal - because this little brat seemed to have a limitless well of energy to draw from, and she was tapping it with a passion. The same little olive-and-pimento colored ball of flailing hate that had come shooting out of the lift was now tied up and gagged, but it didn’t stop her from continuing to be a flailing ball of hate. She just wouldn’t. Stop. Flailing.
They would probably have to knock her out again if they were going to make any progress…
And even then, if this time was any indication, it could be surmised that every subsequent time she returned to consciousness was going to be a startlingly perseverant struggle.
“You were the one who said that you knew where he was....” she let out a slightly annoyed sigh, “so you just wasted my time...?” She stopped and looked at it. She crossed her arms and raised a eyebrow as she normally did when she was annoyed.
Kato followed from behind, ponderously placing one foot in front of the other. He was already thinking on the different memories he could squeeze from the young mechanic. She'd been chosen and hunted down by Federal authorities after he'd put out a request for urgent aid. A ship without an engineer was waiting to fall apart, the Last Light in particular needed it far more than any other of the remaining space-faring vessels. Yet, she was so young, he needed to know her story, whatever had brought her to such a state.
"The lifts shot? Well that's a job for her right there then!" It was more a soft musing than an exlimation of some task to peform right that second. "She's got her work cut out fixing up this old beast. Not that lifts are my biggest problem, not since any muscle fatigue was an issue for me."
It was a sight that the two Mortugans watched with some semblances of pride, they'd captured both of the targets who for all intents and purposes lay helplessly before them. A pride which mingled in the heart of one with slow acting regret, they were to now take this two to be taken apart and squeezed for every drop of knowledge they had.
Despite the wild and ferocious buckling, writhing and thrashing taking place on the part of the M'Draani and even a headbutt which barely missed Annag's already damaged face. The girl had spirit, the two couldn't deny that, yet for one who gave a gruding respect to the way the girl struggled, it was an act to be admired. The other saw it as nothing more than the futile and frightened struggles of a halpless wild animal, to be mocked.
Ike chose that one to wake up and stared blearily at the trio surrounding him, the processors in his head severing the links to any feeling in his back, it would still move and ache, his body had taken a well placed enough shot to ensure that he was going to feel that for a long time. It was a testtiment to his construction that the Synth had taken the shot unprotected and stayed in one piece.
The sudden realisation of his situation and the shared binding of himself and Riley sent Ike into a very deep and even more visible panic. Eyes widening in a deep seated terror of what was to come, while the rest of his body, hampered as it was by the many bindings shuffled closer to a corner. Plaintively an outstretched finger picked at a knot around his hands, failing to loosen it even by a tiny margin.
A small plantive mewling slipped out from behind his gag, made almost inaudible by how well applied it was. A small glance of his sped over to Riley before back up at the two Morts, a silent plea in his eyes. Just leave the two of them alone, take materials anything, just not the two prisoners.
The man simply smirked, bearing down on the terrified, helpless Synth, before picking Ike up in his arms like the machine was nothing. Just a sack of wires and biochemicals in a weak box ready to be carried along and scrapped for spare parts. "Hey lassie, ya keep strugglin, an we rip this here machine to pieces." The look on his face showed a vicious pleasure in taunting the runt before him, safe in the knowledge she couldn't do anything.
For Annag she was having a much harder time with it, tasked with carrying the screaming and writhing engineer she bent down close to the mortal enemy of her people, taking great care to place a steadying hand down on the runt, applying a steady pressure, enough to keep the M'Draani still. "I'm sorry lassie, you fought well, but we're gonna take ye far away."
The bot, veritably bounced in annoyance and righteous indignation, "I knew he was on this floor, I just don't know where the fools gotten to! You'd think a cadet would be ore grateful to a machine like me! I'm your superior I'll have you know!"
"The lifts shot? Well that's a job for her right there then!" It was more a soft musing than an exlimation of some task to peform right that second. "She's got her work cut out fixing up this old beast. Not that lifts are my biggest problem, not since any muscle fatigue was an issue for me."
It was a sight that the two Mortugans watched with some semblances of pride, they'd captured both of the targets who for all intents and purposes lay helplessly before them. A pride which mingled in the heart of one with slow acting regret, they were to now take this two to be taken apart and squeezed for every drop of knowledge they had.
Despite the wild and ferocious buckling, writhing and thrashing taking place on the part of the M'Draani and even a headbutt which barely missed Annag's already damaged face. The girl had spirit, the two couldn't deny that, yet for one who gave a gruding respect to the way the girl struggled, it was an act to be admired. The other saw it as nothing more than the futile and frightened struggles of a halpless wild animal, to be mocked.
Ike chose that one to wake up and stared blearily at the trio surrounding him, the processors in his head severing the links to any feeling in his back, it would still move and ache, his body had taken a well placed enough shot to ensure that he was going to feel that for a long time. It was a testtiment to his construction that the Synth had taken the shot unprotected and stayed in one piece.
The sudden realisation of his situation and the shared binding of himself and Riley sent Ike into a very deep and even more visible panic. Eyes widening in a deep seated terror of what was to come, while the rest of his body, hampered as it was by the many bindings shuffled closer to a corner. Plaintively an outstretched finger picked at a knot around his hands, failing to loosen it even by a tiny margin.
A small plantive mewling slipped out from behind his gag, made almost inaudible by how well applied it was. A small glance of his sped over to Riley before back up at the two Morts, a silent plea in his eyes. Just leave the two of them alone, take materials anything, just not the two prisoners.
The man simply smirked, bearing down on the terrified, helpless Synth, before picking Ike up in his arms like the machine was nothing. Just a sack of wires and biochemicals in a weak box ready to be carried along and scrapped for spare parts. "Hey lassie, ya keep strugglin, an we rip this here machine to pieces." The look on his face showed a vicious pleasure in taunting the runt before him, safe in the knowledge she couldn't do anything.
For Annag she was having a much harder time with it, tasked with carrying the screaming and writhing engineer she bent down close to the mortal enemy of her people, taking great care to place a steadying hand down on the runt, applying a steady pressure, enough to keep the M'Draani still. "I'm sorry lassie, you fought well, but we're gonna take ye far away."
The bot, veritably bounced in annoyance and righteous indignation, "I knew he was on this floor, I just don't know where the fools gotten to! You'd think a cadet would be ore grateful to a machine like me! I'm your superior I'll have you know!"
“Well, let’s head out.” Said Robert, he then walked down a flight of stairs, down a corridor and opened a pair of doors. He was then shocked by what he saw, two cadets attempting to kidnap two others,one was tied and shot, and Riley, knocked down, bleeding.He doesn’t the remember the kidnappers from the files the feds sent,”how could this happen?” Robert thought, “why is this happening?!?” And then, something clicked, they shot a cadet, who for all he knew, was dead, and so he went in to action, ramming with all his might into one of the attacker’s Adam’s Apple, throwing a quick Jab with his free hand, and then head butting them. he wanted them to feel every bit of suffering a laser blast, with a look of I’m-going-to gut-you was yelling to The Kidnappers something unintelligible, no doubt of anger, shock and pain when they eventually hit back, he was aiming for their faces, as it seemed to be the least enhanced body part.
♫
Riley’s eyes met Ike's for the briefest second - and in that moment, a great, sagging relief fell over the girl as she was able to confirm that the synth was, in fact, alive. She did not halt, or even ease her bucking and struggling though - not until the guy spoke. At his words, something happened.
Riley froze, except for the occasional, compulsive twitch as her obstinate nature repeatedly recoiled at the unwanted sensations of both being bound, and being touched at all. And as Riley froze, so did her eyes as she snapped her head to lock the steely gaze on the Mort bastard who thought he could control her. Granted, he could control her, apparently - because for what seemed to be a very long time, she remained almost completely still - large eyes flash-freezing into the coldest, blackest glare that, quite possibly, he had ever seen. It was nitroglycerine solidified at negative kelvin. It was icy, black-hearted murder. Yet most disturbingly, it almost looked as though she suddenly thought she’d won. When, after several eternities, she did look away, somehow the brat had managed to convey that he simply wasn’t worth looking at. Riley knew damned well how to taunt people. It was one of her most natural talents. ’You will never-’
From him, she looked to Ike - completely ignoring the woman - and grunted out a single, low, deathly sober syllable. ”Nnkh.” She would keep making that sound until the synth looked at her. When he did, their eyes locked with all the intensity and strength of an iron deadbolt dropping into place. Then she continued to stare - a cool, level gaze that seemed completely uncharacteristic, except that it positively demanded his attention. Even if she was jostled, picked up, heaved, it didn’t matter - she kept that steely gaze locked on his own magical violet orbs as though the two were welded together by some ethereal bonding agent. It was a meaningful gaze. She was trying to communicate something.
Overwhelmingly, her silent watch demanded his attention. ’Don’t look away. Look at me. At me.” Like a steel beam planted firmly in the earth, that would not bend nor break no matter how hard they tried to pull him away from it. Amidst the terror and uncertainty of their imminent peril, that iron glare held strong, and firm, and steady and true. They did not promise safety, they did not inspire hope - but they held when the whole world was slipping away.
’Don’t look away. Look at me. Nothing else. Don’t look away. DOn't you @#$%ing dare look away.’
A rusty old oil tanker crunched down a rocky jungle road…
The darkness within the tanker was stifling. It, more than the overwhelming, toxic stink of oil residue, threatened to suffocate her. It was complete, true blackness. The truck rocked and janked beneath her. It had been an eternity. Her whole universe was blackness, an infinite expanse of black, darker than the whole, starless universe and just as dead. It was killing her. She could barely feel her hands, her body perfectly invisible to her no matter what she did. She had been buried alive, the darkness itself was creeping into her throat, she struggled to breathe. She was going to die in here, they all were. Panic began to set in, began to wrack her body - and at that moment, the worst case scenario became a reality as the truck ceased to move beneath them. The engine died, and not even the slow, rhythmic breathing of the others could be heard in the silence that screamed in her ears. She felt her chest heaving as her lungs demanded more air than they could hold. She felt herself struggling to keep still and silent - she knew if she made any sound at all they were all dead-
And just when it seemed that all hope was lost, that the inky blackness had consumed them all and buried them alive to suffocate and die in agony, there was a light.
A soft, greenish glow, in the shape of two little needles, barely an inch long.Riley focused on that tiny, gentle glow. She could just barely make out the fine hairs on Cairo’s wrist, and the vague shape of his fingers as he pressed the button on the side of his wristwatch to light it up, and held it.
It was everything. It was a beacon. It demanded her attention. “Don’t you dare look away”, it said, and Riley obeyed. It was a rock, a steady thing to cling to and hold on for dear life, to keep her attached to reality long enough to survive this awful moment in time. No matter what else happened, she could look at that light and know that she was alive. That she could be calm, because that light - and the young man producing it - was there for her. It wasn’t going anywhere. It was here for her. Just don’t look away.
Dont
look
away…
And just when it seemed that all hope was lost, that the inky blackness had consumed them all and buried them alive to suffocate and die in agony, there was a light.
A soft, greenish glow, in the shape of two little needles, barely an inch long.Riley focused on that tiny, gentle glow. She could just barely make out the fine hairs on Cairo’s wrist, and the vague shape of his fingers as he pressed the button on the side of his wristwatch to light it up, and held it.
It was everything. It was a beacon. It demanded her attention. “Don’t you dare look away”, it said, and Riley obeyed. It was a rock, a steady thing to cling to and hold on for dear life, to keep her attached to reality long enough to survive this awful moment in time. No matter what else happened, she could look at that light and know that she was alive. That she could be calm, because that light - and the young man producing it - was there for her. It wasn’t going anywhere. It was here for her. Just don’t look away.
Dont
look
away…
And in that eternal moment, even bound and gagged and utterly defeated, those steely eyes staring levely back at him through the damp red hair were quite possibly the strongest thing Ike had ever seen.
The whole situation was almost unreal to the Synth’s mind, for so long he'd been told that he was the best thing going. His model was the newest, most up to date bit of gear around. Those without any form of mods at all we're supposed to be mere ants to the superior machine, yet here he was, helpless, bound and gagged like an animal. Any sense of reality has been robbed from Ike's mind and with it all the confidence that had once oused from every inch of his posture, every action he took. Now he was just scared, helpless and it showed plainly and visibly.
As the man's arms began to wrap around the synth, the melting sound began to intensify, sounding more and more like a lost, worried kitten than the machine he really was. In further contrast to the wild thrashing and determined struggles of his other captive, any visible resistance died the second he felt the strong grip fasten around his damaged limbs, eyes so full of confidence widening in fear. The only thought then that brought Ike the slightest bit of courage was the brief glance he'd exchanged with Riley, she seemed mostly unhurt, more than him and still determined to resist.
When the man spoke the sheer mindless terror of death spread it's way through his systems like a virus, infecting and taking control of each system in his body, shutting down and freezing all in its path. If before he'd labored under any misconception that he'd be kept intact when their captors escape it was dispelled now. He was going to die.
Before his eyes had merely been wide, now they dilated into little pricks of terror. So mindless was his panic that any sound, movement or action was lost on him for what seemed millennia, circuits whirring to find a solution and each arriving at the same conclusion, each moment dragging him closer to that final concluding moment. He was going to die.
During that time, the Kidnapper to whom Riley directed her glare, an icy cold beam which would have frozen some. The Mortugan, however, had his own glare which he shot back at hers, a white-hot fire born of hatred and loathing. Fueled by magma strong enough to melt tungsten, all-consuming and full of an aloof superiority, one too that spoke of a self-assured victory. It knew it had beaten the girl and reveled in it, he'd been the one to knock her unconscious, though it was only natural that he, a Mortugan had won. The M’Draani after all were no better than animals, their only purpose was to be wiped out for the glory of Mortuga.
The charge ploughed straight into Annag's side, sending her reeling, but not far enough. Immediately she released her pressure on Riley and turned to face her opponent, he was not important to their mission, a petty drone of the feds, a group she had been taught to hate almost as much as the M'draani, someone who was getting in her way. She didn't even waste her breath on him and dove straight back with a metal fist sent screaming towards her head, it was just another fight, another fistfight, she'd experienced more than her fair share of them in the pits she'd trained in. She would win, she always did, they'd trained her for this.
"You fracking fed!" It had been the man to speak, in doing so he raised a pistol to Ike's head. "This wee laddie toka shot ta his back and lived, wanna try ta same wit his head?"
Ike snapped back to reality, the cold sensation of the gun pressing against his head, flinging him back to the here and now. He needed to think of a way around this, he was going to die. Like the noise of a very persistent alarm bursting through layers of thick and heavy sleep the noise of a muffled voice very deliberately attempting to communicate. Riley! He swung his eyes towards hers and they met her gaze.
As their eyes locked and held, something began to happen, the same blind, screaming panic of just seconds before gently began to fade away, he wasn't alone, Riley was there for him. The gun pressed against his temple didn't matter one bit, he had comfort and security in that stare. It had a strength he'd never experienced or even seen before in his existence. She would help, she'd be there for him, he wasn't alone.
Then something curious stole silently into his eyes, little sparkles, like stars rejected in his pupils became to appear, the cybernetic eyes replicating the effect perfectly and the way Ike stared at her took on a tone totally unknown to the girl but still just as recognisable. He saw her as a hero, here at the edge of death where lying would be pointless, ropes sneaking their way around his body, he looked to the small runt as his hero. Refusing to look away.
As the man's arms began to wrap around the synth, the melting sound began to intensify, sounding more and more like a lost, worried kitten than the machine he really was. In further contrast to the wild thrashing and determined struggles of his other captive, any visible resistance died the second he felt the strong grip fasten around his damaged limbs, eyes so full of confidence widening in fear. The only thought then that brought Ike the slightest bit of courage was the brief glance he'd exchanged with Riley, she seemed mostly unhurt, more than him and still determined to resist.
When the man spoke the sheer mindless terror of death spread it's way through his systems like a virus, infecting and taking control of each system in his body, shutting down and freezing all in its path. If before he'd labored under any misconception that he'd be kept intact when their captors escape it was dispelled now. He was going to die.
Before his eyes had merely been wide, now they dilated into little pricks of terror. So mindless was his panic that any sound, movement or action was lost on him for what seemed millennia, circuits whirring to find a solution and each arriving at the same conclusion, each moment dragging him closer to that final concluding moment. He was going to die.
During that time, the Kidnapper to whom Riley directed her glare, an icy cold beam which would have frozen some. The Mortugan, however, had his own glare which he shot back at hers, a white-hot fire born of hatred and loathing. Fueled by magma strong enough to melt tungsten, all-consuming and full of an aloof superiority, one too that spoke of a self-assured victory. It knew it had beaten the girl and reveled in it, he'd been the one to knock her unconscious, though it was only natural that he, a Mortugan had won. The M’Draani after all were no better than animals, their only purpose was to be wiped out for the glory of Mortuga.
The charge ploughed straight into Annag's side, sending her reeling, but not far enough. Immediately she released her pressure on Riley and turned to face her opponent, he was not important to their mission, a petty drone of the feds, a group she had been taught to hate almost as much as the M'draani, someone who was getting in her way. She didn't even waste her breath on him and dove straight back with a metal fist sent screaming towards her head, it was just another fight, another fistfight, she'd experienced more than her fair share of them in the pits she'd trained in. She would win, she always did, they'd trained her for this.
"You fracking fed!" It had been the man to speak, in doing so he raised a pistol to Ike's head. "This wee laddie toka shot ta his back and lived, wanna try ta same wit his head?"
Ike snapped back to reality, the cold sensation of the gun pressing against his head, flinging him back to the here and now. He needed to think of a way around this, he was going to die. Like the noise of a very persistent alarm bursting through layers of thick and heavy sleep the noise of a muffled voice very deliberately attempting to communicate. Riley! He swung his eyes towards hers and they met her gaze.
As their eyes locked and held, something began to happen, the same blind, screaming panic of just seconds before gently began to fade away, he wasn't alone, Riley was there for him. The gun pressed against his temple didn't matter one bit, he had comfort and security in that stare. It had a strength he'd never experienced or even seen before in his existence. She would help, she'd be there for him, he wasn't alone.
Then something curious stole silently into his eyes, little sparkles, like stars rejected in his pupils became to appear, the cybernetic eyes replicating the effect perfectly and the way Ike stared at her took on a tone totally unknown to the girl but still just as recognisable. He saw her as a hero, here at the edge of death where lying would be pointless, ropes sneaking their way around his body, he looked to the small runt as his hero. Refusing to look away.
♫
Milo’s eyes shone like rings of fire.
Pale flames that reached out in desperation to a place where nobody could help them, like the last two stars burning against the oppressive blackness of the universe. Stars, great and crimson, that looked out at their last moments, knowing that all that came after they were gone was eternal darkness.
This was the end of the universe.
Unreality seeped up through the cracks in the walls of air around her. The sky closed in above, falling down slowly, slowly, coming to crush her and everything she had ever known.
He looked so terrified.
It was impossible.
Not Milo.
The hot air had become cold - ice cold - the blood that ran through her veins was icy slag chugging through arctic glaciers beneath the aurora of loss and decay. The whole universe was Milo.
Not Milo.
No.
No.
Milo wasn’t afraid of anything. Cocky little Milo, who always insisted he could take anyone on hand-to-hand and put them in the ground. Milo, who had socked Gaarash in the nose when he wouldn’t give Riley her soldering iron back. Who had held the bastard down and let her get in a couple kicks herself for good measure. Milo Tegan, who had carved his initials right next to her name and beamed like an idiot as he did it. Who wouldn’t let Aiden leave until he’d carved his in too because it just wasn’t right, it was the principle of the thing-
Milo, whose ruddy, red-earth eyes had glared out at a hateful world with a spark of defiance, ready to show it what he could do to make it better. Milo, who had hugged her and ruffled her messy red hair and told her that the world really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, and everything always worked out in the end. Milo, who had been there. Whose boasting had earned him a spot in the line with the rest. The line that she hadn’t been good enough for. There was some other kid kneeling where she should have been, except that she hadn’t been worth her price in copper and powder.
He was so scared.
Terrified.
Crack
Crack
Crack
The wild panic welled in him, even from here she could see it, eyes dancing frantically as if the mind behind them could not comprehend that there was no way out. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The stink of burning flesh clawed at the back of her throat. The gut-wrenching terror of each little gust of breeze which wafted the gruesome scent to her senses, reminding her that she was just cells and chemicals and impulses that, for a little while, had been lucky enough to come together and experience that weird, miserable series of tragedies and disappointments called ‘life’. Atoms that could only hold their shape for so long before dissolving back into the formless chaos of quantum nothingness where all things went.
Riley pulled at her wrists, the zip-tie biting into her flesh, digging into her, blood seeping from her hand, running down her finger, dripping onto the concrete and sinking into the cracks like a sacrifice to the unforgiving nature of reality. Black tendrils, demons from another realm, feasted on her blood and cackled in their subterranean lairs, secure in the knowledge that no matter how much she gave, they would just keep taking it and giving nothing, for such was the way at the end of the universe where all things died and time ran in only one direction, stretching into eternity, forever, and ever…
She trembled violently. She had long since ceased struggling, but her arms defied her and writhed in their binds, unable to accept what her mind had come to understand. The simple truth.
Nightmares were real.
Nightmares had no mercy.
And no great sum of hope nor faith would ever make nightmares go away.
She wanted to scream. Scream until her throat was shredded raw, scream until she could never make another sound. Scream until the world shook and they all fell through the cracks into the eternal pit of blackness and fell, and fell, and fell into that same hole that she now looked up out of as the dirt was shoveled in. But it was not the pit for him. For him, it was the flame.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
His shoulders twitched over and over, as if anticipating it to come at any second, even distant as they were, yet growing louder. He was so afraid. She couldn’t bare to look at him like that. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t watch him watch everything fall to pieces around him, knowing all the while that he was at the nexus of destruction and would follow soon, sooner.
Crack.
She couldn’t watch him.
Crack
The girl screamed out, unsure if it had been a conscious decision or mere animal instinct. She screamed his name, and his eyes darted to her. She ignored the blow between her shoulder blades, staggering and standing, and looking him in the eyes.
Don’t look away.
Don’t
Look
Away.
Don’t you dare.
I know it's scary. I know. I'm here.
Look at me.
Only at me.
Stormy grey eyes, like thunderclouds that shifted in baleful skies, baked beneath the red-earth flames that stared back at her, solidified from their ethereal softness into iron, into steel. Steel which would always be there. Which would sit like a stone in the mud as it was beaten again and again, an inanimate object, unable to fight back, unable to dent, unable to die. An impenetrable thing that would do nothing except continue to exist no matter what tried to tear it down.
Don’t look away.
She held his gaze. She remained firm. Steady. A rock in an ocean of deadly waves that swallowed everything, that suffocated and drowned all without mercy.
Look at me.
Crack
He stared back. His eyes locked onto hers, clinging to the rock, even knowing that it was only a matter of time before the ocean claimed him. Milo, who had followed her around and annoyed the living daylights out of her until he’d managed to make her crack a smile.
Look at me.
Crack
She didn’t cry. If there was nothing else she could do, she could do that. She didn’t cry, no matter how hard the urge struck her. There would be time to cry later. Time to bury her head in her arms and scream until she couldn’t make another sound.
But not now.
She would not cry now.
Look at me!
Crack
Don’t take your ****ing eyes off me do you understand?!
Crack
Everything’s gonna’ be fine, okay? I promise! Everything is gonna’ be okay!
Crack
Don’t look away!
Crack
You’re gonna’ be okay! I’m here, see? I'm not crying, see? Everything’s gonna’ be okay!
Crack
JUST
Crack
DON’T
Crack
LOOK
Pale flames that reached out in desperation to a place where nobody could help them, like the last two stars burning against the oppressive blackness of the universe. Stars, great and crimson, that looked out at their last moments, knowing that all that came after they were gone was eternal darkness.
This was the end of the universe.
Unreality seeped up through the cracks in the walls of air around her. The sky closed in above, falling down slowly, slowly, coming to crush her and everything she had ever known.
He looked so terrified.
It was impossible.
Not Milo.
The hot air had become cold - ice cold - the blood that ran through her veins was icy slag chugging through arctic glaciers beneath the aurora of loss and decay. The whole universe was Milo.
Not Milo.
No.
No.
Milo wasn’t afraid of anything. Cocky little Milo, who always insisted he could take anyone on hand-to-hand and put them in the ground. Milo, who had socked Gaarash in the nose when he wouldn’t give Riley her soldering iron back. Who had held the bastard down and let her get in a couple kicks herself for good measure. Milo Tegan, who had carved his initials right next to her name and beamed like an idiot as he did it. Who wouldn’t let Aiden leave until he’d carved his in too because it just wasn’t right, it was the principle of the thing-
Milo, whose ruddy, red-earth eyes had glared out at a hateful world with a spark of defiance, ready to show it what he could do to make it better. Milo, who had hugged her and ruffled her messy red hair and told her that the world really wasn’t as bad as it seemed, and everything always worked out in the end. Milo, who had been there. Whose boasting had earned him a spot in the line with the rest. The line that she hadn’t been good enough for. There was some other kid kneeling where she should have been, except that she hadn’t been worth her price in copper and powder.
He was so scared.
Terrified.
Crack
Crack
Crack
The wild panic welled in him, even from here she could see it, eyes dancing frantically as if the mind behind them could not comprehend that there was no way out. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The stink of burning flesh clawed at the back of her throat. The gut-wrenching terror of each little gust of breeze which wafted the gruesome scent to her senses, reminding her that she was just cells and chemicals and impulses that, for a little while, had been lucky enough to come together and experience that weird, miserable series of tragedies and disappointments called ‘life’. Atoms that could only hold their shape for so long before dissolving back into the formless chaos of quantum nothingness where all things went.
Riley pulled at her wrists, the zip-tie biting into her flesh, digging into her, blood seeping from her hand, running down her finger, dripping onto the concrete and sinking into the cracks like a sacrifice to the unforgiving nature of reality. Black tendrils, demons from another realm, feasted on her blood and cackled in their subterranean lairs, secure in the knowledge that no matter how much she gave, they would just keep taking it and giving nothing, for such was the way at the end of the universe where all things died and time ran in only one direction, stretching into eternity, forever, and ever…
She trembled violently. She had long since ceased struggling, but her arms defied her and writhed in their binds, unable to accept what her mind had come to understand. The simple truth.
Nightmares were real.
Nightmares had no mercy.
And no great sum of hope nor faith would ever make nightmares go away.
She wanted to scream. Scream until her throat was shredded raw, scream until she could never make another sound. Scream until the world shook and they all fell through the cracks into the eternal pit of blackness and fell, and fell, and fell into that same hole that she now looked up out of as the dirt was shoveled in. But it was not the pit for him. For him, it was the flame.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
His shoulders twitched over and over, as if anticipating it to come at any second, even distant as they were, yet growing louder. He was so afraid. She couldn’t bare to look at him like that. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t watch him watch everything fall to pieces around him, knowing all the while that he was at the nexus of destruction and would follow soon, sooner.
Crack.
She couldn’t watch him.
Crack
The girl screamed out, unsure if it had been a conscious decision or mere animal instinct. She screamed his name, and his eyes darted to her. She ignored the blow between her shoulder blades, staggering and standing, and looking him in the eyes.
Don’t look away.
Don’t
Look
Away.
Don’t you dare.
I know it's scary. I know. I'm here.
Look at me.
Only at me.
Stormy grey eyes, like thunderclouds that shifted in baleful skies, baked beneath the red-earth flames that stared back at her, solidified from their ethereal softness into iron, into steel. Steel which would always be there. Which would sit like a stone in the mud as it was beaten again and again, an inanimate object, unable to fight back, unable to dent, unable to die. An impenetrable thing that would do nothing except continue to exist no matter what tried to tear it down.
Don’t look away.
She held his gaze. She remained firm. Steady. A rock in an ocean of deadly waves that swallowed everything, that suffocated and drowned all without mercy.
Look at me.
Crack
He stared back. His eyes locked onto hers, clinging to the rock, even knowing that it was only a matter of time before the ocean claimed him. Milo, who had followed her around and annoyed the living daylights out of her until he’d managed to make her crack a smile.
Look at me.
Crack
She didn’t cry. If there was nothing else she could do, she could do that. She didn’t cry, no matter how hard the urge struck her. There would be time to cry later. Time to bury her head in her arms and scream until she couldn’t make another sound.
But not now.
She would not cry now.
Look at me!
Crack
Don’t take your ****ing eyes off me do you understand?!
Crack
Everything’s gonna’ be fine, okay? I promise! Everything is gonna’ be okay!
Crack
Don’t look away!
Crack
You’re gonna’ be okay! I’m here, see? I'm not crying, see? Everything’s gonna’ be okay!
Crack
JUST
Crack
DON’T
Crack
LOOK
When the attempting kidnappers pulled the pistol to...Ike’s head, he then found that he was, in fact, alive, it seemed hopeless, but..maybe...the one trick he used against hostage holders, maybe, just maybe it could work, he then pulled out his old fashioned, standard issue knife, “sorry Ike, if this doesn’t work, I’m...so..sorry.” Robert thought, and so he put his plan into action, he threw the knife into the middle of the pair, it never meant to connect with either of the group, just a mere distraction so that he could run and tackle them, trying to grab the gun from him and hopefully save Ike’s life, if the partner would shoot, he had at least a 50-50 chance she would shoot her partner. It was either life or death now, but at least it would be one of glory.
The man didn't even flinch when the knife went sailing through the air towards the pair, the feds were too soft to hit one of their own. He was too important to them, no fed member would ever dare even the chance of wounding their own. Simply he justs stared the Corporal down, turning the same blazing glare of hatred on the man charging forward. "Come on then ya Fed scum!" It was more of a challenge than anything else.
What he had been waiting for was for Annag, already in the way of the two of them to raise her arm, it was a simple gesture, almost relaxing like a morning stretch, just reaching an arm out to ease the muscles. Yet here it was used to such a different effect, the mere gesture acting as a barrier between the two, cutting any chance of reaching the captive Synth into tiny non-existent pieces.
If the Corporal kept on moving he'd run full tilt into the arm and be sent flying onto his back as the metal and almost indestructible arm collided with his face. If however, he would sidestep out of the way, the movement would give more than enough time for the man to once more step to the side allowing the woman to place themselves between the two. The look on their faces spoke of the fact that they knew they'd won and we're going to make sure their opposition knew it.
Then in that split second, the situation changed.
Ike screamed in pain and the man behind him collapsed to the floor, similarly screaming. For a few seconds, it would be impossible to see what happened, the two seeming to both come down with something clearly painful, but equally invisible. Then for the observant, the cause of the sudden change would make itself apparent. A tiny hole had been burrowed through Ike's leg and similarly, through the man's arm, the shot of a laser rifle fired at a very high power.
The cause of such stood far down the corridor at the side of a small arms locker he'd just opened. The solitary figure seemed suddenly so much larger and so much older than he'd ever done in his first appearance. Dead eyes that glared with the weight of a million lives. Everything around him felt like it was disappearing, devoured by the sheer enormity of the soldier's unwavering determination.
"Leave."
It was just one word, yet for those that heard it, it would be like nothing else was making any noise in that moment, that uncountable numbers of people had issued that command. This was no longer the ancient decrepit captain so lost in what once was he forgot the present, it was someone entirely different.
What he had been waiting for was for Annag, already in the way of the two of them to raise her arm, it was a simple gesture, almost relaxing like a morning stretch, just reaching an arm out to ease the muscles. Yet here it was used to such a different effect, the mere gesture acting as a barrier between the two, cutting any chance of reaching the captive Synth into tiny non-existent pieces.
If the Corporal kept on moving he'd run full tilt into the arm and be sent flying onto his back as the metal and almost indestructible arm collided with his face. If however, he would sidestep out of the way, the movement would give more than enough time for the man to once more step to the side allowing the woman to place themselves between the two. The look on their faces spoke of the fact that they knew they'd won and we're going to make sure their opposition knew it.
Then in that split second, the situation changed.
Ike screamed in pain and the man behind him collapsed to the floor, similarly screaming. For a few seconds, it would be impossible to see what happened, the two seeming to both come down with something clearly painful, but equally invisible. Then for the observant, the cause of the sudden change would make itself apparent. A tiny hole had been burrowed through Ike's leg and similarly, through the man's arm, the shot of a laser rifle fired at a very high power.
The cause of such stood far down the corridor at the side of a small arms locker he'd just opened. The solitary figure seemed suddenly so much larger and so much older than he'd ever done in his first appearance. Dead eyes that glared with the weight of a million lives. Everything around him felt like it was disappearing, devoured by the sheer enormity of the soldier's unwavering determination.
"Leave."
It was just one word, yet for those that heard it, it would be like nothing else was making any noise in that moment, that uncountable numbers of people had issued that command. This was no longer the ancient decrepit captain so lost in what once was he forgot the present, it was someone entirely different.
Robert skidded to a stop, the fight was nearly over, now all they had to do was do as they were told. He then pointed to Ike, telling Kato “we need to get him to a bioengineer, as he isn’t going to survive long without some assistance with all the laser damage.” He then sees that Riley and Ike aren’t looking away, just at each other, so he steps out of their line of sight, towards Riley, questioning her, “you alright?” He kept around to hear her answer, or lack there of, and walked away, he didn’t want to keep up a conversation, not with what happened, he’ll talk to her later, when he makes sure Ikes gonna be alive tomorrow. He then walks over and picks up his knife, “a lot that did..” he thought.
”NNKH!!”
The fear and panic had always been there, right from the start. But she had been able to control herself in the critical moment - squash down that terror until it was merely something upon which sat her steely determination and icy calm.
But hearing him cry out and lurch with the force of...something, that despair and panic had begun to slip through. Eyes wide, no less intense, her heart sank like a rock as she cried out his name once again through her gag, though this time it was a hoarse scream.
NonononononnononononoNO!
Yet despite this weakness, nothing on Ringworld or in the void beyond could stop her from continuing to exude that vital message; to just keep looking at her. Don’t look away. You need to. I know it hurts. I’m sorry. But just keep looking at me and soon, one way or another, it’ll all be over and you won’t have to be afraid anymore.
She surmised only passively what must have happened, because what happened didn’t really matter. She didn’t take her eyes off Ike’s to look toward the source of the voice that had spoken so calmly at the same time as her panic-fringed scream, yet with a power that rivaled the voice of God. If she had been calmer internally, she might have guessed that the voice belonged to Kato, but such was not on her mind. She wasn’t even sure who the other person was that had come charging to save them.
A silence fell over the universe, though RIley had no idea whether it was merely in her own head or not, and didn’t care. She didn’t even perceive that silence. She perceived nothing but Ike, drawing him in, holding him with her eyes that burned like volcanic steel. If he was having trouble focusing on her or staying conscious, she would again start repeating his one syllable name as much as she needed to.
When, retroactively, she realized what that one spoken word had been, it was with the same passive comprehension that the rest of the universe brought her. But it was enough to trigger one last, desperate idea in her mind. She had to be sure. If he was telling them to leave and not just blasting them into Void like he should have been, it meant there was still a slim, but real chance that the woman might grab one of them to make off with at least half their ‘payload’. Those arms of hers were quick.
She couldn’t take the chance.
If, in the unlikely, but still realistic chance the Mort b@#$% was going to make off with one of the captives, Riley was going to make damn well sure it was her.
Summoning all of her strength, Riley heaved herself as best she could in the general direction of the Mort’s feet, pushing off the wall with her knees. It was barely enough to move her a couple of inches, and couldn’t even really be called a proper attempt at struggling, let alone escape - but she was sure that it would be enough - in the event that the Mort chose to snag one of them, Riley’s movement would attract the eye just enough to influence her decision. Despite the effort it took to move those couple of inches, she still didn’t break eye contact with Ike, and somehow, she managed to come off more or less as if her moving wasn’t a plan of any kind, but just another one of those unconscious reflexive lurches as before, when she had first all but frozen.
But, of course, hopefully the stupid @#$% would be clever enough to take the chance at life she was being so very, very, stupidly generous offer at life that she was for some @#$%ing reason being handed, despite not deserving it in the slightest. Hopefully she would flee. Hopefully the shot that had brought down the guy had been fatal, or if not, mortally wounding. A girl could dream.
Assuming she was still there when the @#$% made off, she would respond to Firth’s question only with another iteration of Ike’s name, as well as a meaningful, even impatient and testy nod in his direction. @#$% off, don’t bother with me, him first. As long as she knew Ike was getting the treatment he needed, RIley could lay there all day if she had to. Except that a boiling rage was already building in her gut, and when she did at last look to Kato it would be with a fierce, wildly furious glare, biting down with fervor on the cloth between her teeth, clearly implying that it would be in his best interest to just leave her gagged and walk away, or else face the wrath of the redheaded runt. Not an ounce of gratitude in her entire being.
The fear and panic had always been there, right from the start. But she had been able to control herself in the critical moment - squash down that terror until it was merely something upon which sat her steely determination and icy calm.
But hearing him cry out and lurch with the force of...something, that despair and panic had begun to slip through. Eyes wide, no less intense, her heart sank like a rock as she cried out his name once again through her gag, though this time it was a hoarse scream.
NonononononnononononoNO!
Yet despite this weakness, nothing on Ringworld or in the void beyond could stop her from continuing to exude that vital message; to just keep looking at her. Don’t look away. You need to. I know it hurts. I’m sorry. But just keep looking at me and soon, one way or another, it’ll all be over and you won’t have to be afraid anymore.
She surmised only passively what must have happened, because what happened didn’t really matter. She didn’t take her eyes off Ike’s to look toward the source of the voice that had spoken so calmly at the same time as her panic-fringed scream, yet with a power that rivaled the voice of God. If she had been calmer internally, she might have guessed that the voice belonged to Kato, but such was not on her mind. She wasn’t even sure who the other person was that had come charging to save them.
A silence fell over the universe, though RIley had no idea whether it was merely in her own head or not, and didn’t care. She didn’t even perceive that silence. She perceived nothing but Ike, drawing him in, holding him with her eyes that burned like volcanic steel. If he was having trouble focusing on her or staying conscious, she would again start repeating his one syllable name as much as she needed to.
When, retroactively, she realized what that one spoken word had been, it was with the same passive comprehension that the rest of the universe brought her. But it was enough to trigger one last, desperate idea in her mind. She had to be sure. If he was telling them to leave and not just blasting them into Void like he should have been, it meant there was still a slim, but real chance that the woman might grab one of them to make off with at least half their ‘payload’. Those arms of hers were quick.
She couldn’t take the chance.
If, in the unlikely, but still realistic chance the Mort b@#$% was going to make off with one of the captives, Riley was going to make damn well sure it was her.
Summoning all of her strength, Riley heaved herself as best she could in the general direction of the Mort’s feet, pushing off the wall with her knees. It was barely enough to move her a couple of inches, and couldn’t even really be called a proper attempt at struggling, let alone escape - but she was sure that it would be enough - in the event that the Mort chose to snag one of them, Riley’s movement would attract the eye just enough to influence her decision. Despite the effort it took to move those couple of inches, she still didn’t break eye contact with Ike, and somehow, she managed to come off more or less as if her moving wasn’t a plan of any kind, but just another one of those unconscious reflexive lurches as before, when she had first all but frozen.
But, of course, hopefully the stupid @#$% would be clever enough to take the chance at life she was being so very, very, stupidly generous offer at life that she was for some @#$%ing reason being handed, despite not deserving it in the slightest. Hopefully she would flee. Hopefully the shot that had brought down the guy had been fatal, or if not, mortally wounding. A girl could dream.
Assuming she was still there when the @#$% made off, she would respond to Firth’s question only with another iteration of Ike’s name, as well as a meaningful, even impatient and testy nod in his direction. @#$% off, don’t bother with me, him first. As long as she knew Ike was getting the treatment he needed, RIley could lay there all day if she had to. Except that a boiling rage was already building in her gut, and when she did at last look to Kato it would be with a fierce, wildly furious glare, biting down with fervor on the cloth between her teeth, clearly implying that it would be in his best interest to just leave her gagged and walk away, or else face the wrath of the redheaded runt. Not an ounce of gratitude in her entire being.
Annag acted fast, she had to. In a split second, they'd gone from complete control of the situation to losing their captives and half of their team. Whipping her head back and forth so fast that looking at it could almost make someone whince at the inevitable whiplash. Then she made her decision, she didn't trust the word of a fed, no Mortugan would, not after what the feds did. She wouldn't run, that option wasn't possible, but also she couldn't leave her partner on-board. He wasn't like her, he'd crack too easily under torture, he hadn't experienced the same pain she had.
When she lunged down and grabbed someone it wasn't either of the captives, but her companion, heaving him to his feet and half throwing, half shoving him down the corridor towards the shuttle entrance. Positioning herself arms outstretched between them and the rest of the crew, a fierce defiant glare, to rival Riley's in her eyes. "I'm staying here, I don't trust ya Feds, so I'm making sure you keep ya word." Her voice sounded quite different, less of the harsh accent of before, more controlled and easier for those not used to it to understand.
It was Kato who spoke next, "Corporal, go get our medic, bring them here right now. I'm not having a cadet bleed out on me." His voice was slow and measured, an act mirrored by the way he moved, each foot placed in front of the other in the most deliberate of manners, not willing to let any weakness show in front of the woman who'd subdued two of his crew.
For his part Ike's voice slowly faded down from a scream of agony to the merest hint of a whimper, more and more of his pain receptors burning up and shutting themselves down. He refused to look away from Riley, she was there for him, she was giving him support. Anything to look away from his leg, he couldn't look at that. He refused to look at that.
He didn't even bother wiggling at all to try and free himself from the ropes that bound him, it hurt too much to try and move. He was safe, Riley was safe. He wasn't going to die. Even so the motions had freed one part of him, his mouth. "Riley!" He called out hoarsely. There wasn't much more he could think to say, but he needed, no wanted to say something. It felt right. "Riley ... thank you.."
The one Kato finally stopped in front of was the small and extremely angry mechanic. He knew what was coming next and accepted it. "I'm sorry Riley ... I had to, oh and so you know. Our new prisoner over there... she's yours to look after. However under no circumstances are you allowed to hurt her." With all that was needed to be said, said he reached forward and began to work on undoing the knots and gag that held the small runt restrained.
When she lunged down and grabbed someone it wasn't either of the captives, but her companion, heaving him to his feet and half throwing, half shoving him down the corridor towards the shuttle entrance. Positioning herself arms outstretched between them and the rest of the crew, a fierce defiant glare, to rival Riley's in her eyes. "I'm staying here, I don't trust ya Feds, so I'm making sure you keep ya word." Her voice sounded quite different, less of the harsh accent of before, more controlled and easier for those not used to it to understand.
It was Kato who spoke next, "Corporal, go get our medic, bring them here right now. I'm not having a cadet bleed out on me." His voice was slow and measured, an act mirrored by the way he moved, each foot placed in front of the other in the most deliberate of manners, not willing to let any weakness show in front of the woman who'd subdued two of his crew.
For his part Ike's voice slowly faded down from a scream of agony to the merest hint of a whimper, more and more of his pain receptors burning up and shutting themselves down. He refused to look away from Riley, she was there for him, she was giving him support. Anything to look away from his leg, he couldn't look at that. He refused to look at that.
He didn't even bother wiggling at all to try and free himself from the ropes that bound him, it hurt too much to try and move. He was safe, Riley was safe. He wasn't going to die. Even so the motions had freed one part of him, his mouth. "Riley!" He called out hoarsely. There wasn't much more he could think to say, but he needed, no wanted to say something. It felt right. "Riley ... thank you.."
The one Kato finally stopped in front of was the small and extremely angry mechanic. He knew what was coming next and accepted it. "I'm sorry Riley ... I had to, oh and so you know. Our new prisoner over there... she's yours to look after. However under no circumstances are you allowed to hurt her." With all that was needed to be said, said he reached forward and began to work on undoing the knots and gag that held the small runt restrained.
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