Albedo (backpost)

Posted on Mon Jun 1, 2015 @ 11:46pm by Lieutenant Nicole Anderson

4,443 words; about a 22 minute read

Mission: All this has happened before...
Location: Cassandra's Office
Timeline: Immediately following "Incineration"

As Cassandra left, Nicole sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. She kept her head down, not able to look at him. "I'm so sorry," she said.

Alec looked at Nicole, she looked small and fragile right now. A hundred different replies ran through his head, most sarcastic and he knew Nicole didn't need a smart ass right now. She needed a friend she could talk to. "Why? I'm alright. getting stronger with each passing minute." he reached a hand out and paced it under her chin,gently raising and turning it so she would look at him. "The question is are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" she said, the word "idiot" implied in her tone. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. "What I did to you...what I almost did...I couldn't bring myself to finish it. When I looked at you..."

Alec caught her tone and nodded, "Alright, I deserved that. It was a stupid question and since honesty and openness seem to high on the agenda today. I'm not all that thrilled that you bit me. I was trying to help you! For the record, I'm glad you couldn't finish it." His hand going to his throat and rubbing the dressing Cass had placed over it.

She ran a hand through her hair. "I've killed people that way. I consoled myself by reminding myself that they were bad people. Thieves, murderers, traitors and the like."

"Did it help to think that way? Did it keep the nightmares at bay?"

Nicole shook her head. "The nightmares started after that. It was my last mission for the Castelnaudary and I thought my last one period..."

Nicole’s head pounded. She felt sluggish, her brain not quite able to focus. A distant part of her recognized it as withdrawal; her body was in need of nourishment, and she was beginning to shut down. She automatically reached for a vial from her pocket, but was surprised when she couldn't move her hands. She finally opened her eyes, the room blurry, but slowly coming into focus.

Her hands were bound behind her back to the legs of the chair she was sitting on. The room's décor was Spartan in the extreme, consisting of only the chair she occupied, a second chair in the corner and a door. It was a room that was grey, sterile and completely lacking in purpose save one: to hold someone.

*A simple observation mission,* she thought. *That’s all it is, Nicole. Don’t worry about the totalitarian nutters running around.*

She’d touched down on Kellada II almost a week ago, only slight cosmetic surgery required to pass for a local. The planet was still under Prime Directive Protection, however it was of strategic value, and certain factions within the Federation was beginning to take interest. While a unified planetary government was normally a requirement for acceptance into the Federation, this particular world-government had taken the form of a totalitarian empire, and since its inception, the societal progress on the planet had not only halted, it was teetering on sliding backwards.

Transmissions had indicated the presence of a resistance movement that was slowly spreading but, being vastly outnumbered and outgunned, they didn’t stand much of a chance of thwarting those in charge. To then make matters worse, transmissions were intercepted that showed the Empire was formulating a bio-weapon to wipe the resistance out. Nicole had been sent in to make contact with them, evaluate their needs and chances of success and, if necessary, counteract the bio-agent.

What she had found was a society where the regime had been doing experiments with antimatter bombs, mutagenic pathogens and genetically-specific viruses, and a Resistance that was, at best “loosely organized,” and at worst, “walking dead.” Unfortunately, before she could make any inroads into the regime's scientific community, she’d been outed by a patrol, and had to make a run for it.

The doorknob jiggled slightly, then turned slowly as if for dramatic effect. She was expecting to hear a rusty creak as it swung open, but instead it glided silently, and a somewhat imposing figure stepped in, closing it behind him. “I see you’re awake,” he said.

*Obviously,* she thought. “How long have I been out?” she said, her voice weaker than she expected.

“Approximately thirteen hours,” the man said, walking slowly around her. His voice was casual, as if they were sitting in a pub rather than in an interrogation room. “You had a slight concussion, due to an unfortunate fall.”

“As I remember it,” she said, “I ‘fell’ into the baton that one of your Enforcers was swinging at my head.”

“Yes,” he said, chuckling a bit. “Fortunately for us, you survived. In fact, your recovery has been remarkable; it’s leaving our doctors with many questions.” He paused in front of her and pulled a familiar-looking flask out of his breast pocket. “But I have no doubt we’ll begin to unravel your secrets…in time.” He smiled at her in a way that made her shudder and continued his pacing.

She knew that was the effect he wanted, but didn’t have the energy to repress it; in fact, she didn’t have much energy at all. Her head was lolling slightly to one side and her eyes kept losing focus. Her body had used what energy it had to heal her injuries, and now she was slowly falling into a coma. “Not that much time,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that,” the interrogator said, turning back to face her.

“If I don’t drink my medicine soon,” she said quietly, looking at the flask, “then I’ll die, and you’ll learn nothing.”

“That is a risk, yes. On the other hand,” he said, shaking the flask gently, “this could be a fast-acting poison. Perhaps you were looking to assassinate someone of high rank? Or taint our water supply? And now you wish to use it on yourself, to avoid our little chat?” He put the flask back in his pocket. “If it is poison, then I will not give you the pleasure of an easy death; if it is medicine, well, I’m sure our doctors can do wonders for you to help prolong our ‘conversation.’”

He smiled again, but she didn’t even have the energy for a shudder this time. If he’d given her the elixir, she might have had the strength to break her bonds, but a few futile pulls at her present strength was not encouraging.

He watched her squirm for a moment, and then shrugged as if it was of no concern. He pulled the second chair over and sat in front of her, his chair slightly higher to reinforce the feeling of him looming over her. “Now then, you were apprehended attempting to bypass one of our security checkpoints.”

“I was walking back to my hotel,” she said. “Your Enforcers decided to detain me…twice; evidently one overly-personal frisking wasn’t enough.”

“And a good thing they were so thorough,” he said, “or we might not have realized you were an insurgent.”

“Insurgent?” she said, trying to sound casual. “On the Southern Continent, we just call them ‘tourists.’”

“I’m sure you would, if you were from the Southern Continent,” he said. “But, imagine our surprise when your genetic blueprint did not match any resident within our databanks.”

“Maybe I’m not in the databanks,” she said. At this point, all she could do was stall. If she really had been locked up for over half a day, then she was overdue for her beam out, and her best hope was being found and extracted.

“Oh, of course you are,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “Each child is added to the databanks on the day of his or her birth; it’s required by law. Therefore, I can only assume one of two things: either your mother somehow managed to give birth to you like an animal out in a field somewhere, or you aren’t from anywhere near here.”

She looked up at him as he finished his sentence. He was sitting forward now, closer to her, probing her with his eyes as he spoke. She stared back, not listening, her ice-blue eyes tracing the pattern of veins and arteries under his skin, seeing them pulse with life. A sound like rushing water was filling her ears and she was having difficulty keeping focus on the conversation.

“I’ll ask you again,” he said, more forcefully, “where are you from? Why does your genetic makeup not match anything on our records?”

“I am from District Four, Southern Continent,” she said slowly. “My papers confirm that, as you should already know.”

“Yes, your papers are masterful forgeries,” he said, snidely. “They appear quite genuine, but since we know that you are not one of our people, they are essentially of little value.”

Nicole sighed; so much for keeping up appearances, it was time for level two. She pulled her head up and gave him as nasty a grin as she could muster. “Well, I’ll inform the forger of your appreciation,” she said. “He’ll be happy to know his work for the Resistance meets with your approval.”

The interrogator’s snarl softened. “Now, we might be getting somewhere,” he said, his tone returning to casual. “Who was your contact here?”

“First Minister Akallan,” Nicole said, picking the first name she could think of. “He has been funneling us information for some time now.”

The interrogator raised an eyebrow. “I see. The First Minister, the man who has been one of the most prominent opponents of this pathetic resistance movement.” He chuckled again, standing up. “I see we have time for jokes; perhaps I should come by later.” He walked to the door, shut off the light, and stepped out, leaving Nicole to contemplate the dark.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there. Her arms were stiff from being restrained, her head was pounding from her lack of elixir, her back was sore from the awkward position and her throat was parched. When the door opened again, the light made her wince and close her eyes, another calculated move by her interrogator, no doubt.

“—must be arrogance,” he said, looking her in the eye. She didn’t even see him come in, or sit in front of her, but suddenly he was there, staring her in the eyes. “Arrogant presumption to think one could go up against the greatest empire in the history of civilization—at least, our civilization. I wonder whose you are a part of.”

Her head was spinning. She stopped trying to focus on him, instead trying to control her thoughts. *Idiot,* she thought. *If I were feeling better I could snap you in half.*

“District Four…” she mumbled.

“Southern Continent, yes, yes,” he said, standing over her. “Except no one there has ever heard of you, and you aren’t part of the Resistance movement, so save your breath.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Your genetic makeup is not like anything we’ve seen before. If I were to believe in flights of fancy, I would say you aren’t actually a Kelladan.”

“And you would sound crazy,” she spat out, her head falling back.

He smiled again and walked back to the door. “I’ll come see you soon,” he said, shutting the lights off and once again plunging her into total darkness.

This time the darkness was almost welcome. It gave her one less thing to focus on, letting her marshal her strength. It didn't last long however; at least, she didn't think it did. She had the sneaking suspicion she'd been drifting in and out of consciousness, and when the door opened for a third time, she didn't bother opening her eyes.

"You look absolutely terrible," he said, his voice still smug and disturbingly casual.

She had no doubt. She was most likely even more pale than usual, dark circles under her eyes and no energy at all. The sudden lack of light piercing her eyelids told her he was right in front of her, but she didn't bother to look up. She was slowly slipping away, and within moments would enter a coma and eventually simply snuff out like a candle. Part of her mind was actually welcoming it, rationalizing it was better than whatever he planned to do next. "You all deserve to die," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice surprisingly close to her ear, "I didn't hear you. Was that a confession?"

Nicole managed to open her eyes one last time, already feeling disgust at the thought that his face was the last thing she'd see, but was shocked to instead see his neck in front of her, his carotid artery pulsing directly in front of her eyes. He'd leaned forward, his ear near her mouth to hear her deathbed confession, and hadn't any idea of the danger he'd put himself in.

She willed herself one more burst of strength, knowing that if she failed, she'd have nothing left. Her eyes focused on her prize, they suddenly turned red. A set of fangs extended in her mouth and she lunged forward, sinking them into his neck.

As he screamed, a warm gush of blood poured into her mouth and she drank deeply. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been that hungry, or the last time feeding had tasted so good.

She paused as her head spun, her energy coming back in force and he managed to break free, falling to the floor. She didn't waste any time, but instead pulled her bonds apart and stood up, stretching her aching limbs as she approached him, dropping into a crouch and snarling at him like an animal.

He scrambled backwards his hand on his neck, trying to stop the bleeding from his most vital artery. He inhaled sharply and deeply to let out another call for help, but she rose up fast and delivered a swift kick to what she hoped was a very sensitive spot. Judging by the bulging of his eyes and the strangled gasp that came out of him, she’d succeeded.

She dropped down in front of him and growled. She saw his lips trying to form words as they drained of color and she leaned in close. “I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Mercy…” he said, gurgling slightly.

“As you wish,” she said, baring her fangs and diving forward, making his death far quicker than he’d have made hers. He screamed again, but it was short-lived, his strength draining fast as she rapidly gained hers back.

As she stood up and licked her lips in satisfaction, the noise they’d generated finally caught the attention of the two guards outside the door and they stormed in. The sight of a prisoner standing over her dead interrogator with blood dripping down her chin was enough of a shock to cause one of them to freeze in surprise, but the other one had the presence of mind to raise his weapon and fire.

Nicole barely dodged, the shot grazing her arm, but she barely flinched. She walked right up to them, grabbing the weapon of the braver guard and yanking it from his grip, tossing it aside before grabbing him and bending his head to the side.

His comrade immediately grabbed a knife and stuck it in Nicole’s side, making her scream out in pain and drop her second victim. She grabbed the knife and wrenched it out of her side, the wound immediately healing. She tossed the knife aside, her eyes murderous and advanced on the trembling guard, giving him the same fate as the room’s other two occupants.

She took a breath and gathered herself, searching their bodies for any identification cards or passkeys she could use before slipping out the door.

The complex was confining. Hallways were small and the ceiling was low. It gave the impression of an underground bunker. Appropriate for a prison, but odd given that nothing seemed to be geared towards jail, and unnecessary given that the empire’s totalitarian actions were hardly secret. Rooms she looked into appeared to be offices, conference rooms, observation rooms like hers and…

Labs. It was full of laboratories and she could tell from some of the displays that they were working on the very bioweapons she was there to investigate. Some of the labs were empty, but as Nicole looked through the glass of one of the doors, she could see workers moving about quickly. She wasn’t sure what they were working on, but froze when she saw something that made her blood boil.

Pictures of here were mounted on backlit displays along with DNA charts and medical documents. Vials of what she was terrified to guess was her blood were being examined, and her flask was sitting open, the contents in a beaker nearby.

She growled in fury and used one of her stolen passkeys to swipe her way past the door lock. She slipped inside silently, but the door made a small ‘click’ sound as it closed and locked behind her. Most of the scientists kept their eyes on their work, but one glanced up, did a double take and screamed in horror. Nicole dove for her first. A few of the scientists ran for the door as the first victim fell, but in the mad scramble, no one thought to calmly swipe their passkey. One by one, Nicole pulled them back and they fell, either to her fangs, or her claws. At that point, she was more interested in causing them pain than sating her hunger.

One of the last standing managed to hit a button, sounding an alarm, but Nicole didn’t care. She’d grown too strong to worry about any hand-to-hand combat, and at that point she could probably have taken several shots from one of their weapons and kept going. She grabbed her flask, destroying the beaker with her elixir, along with her blood samples, then turned and left the lab in search of new prey. At that point, she had one care with regard to the people in that building: kill.

One by one, the guards, scientists and technicians all fell to her wrath. Many were drained, some merely shot with their own weapons. She had no way of knowing if she was nearing the exit or not, so she settled on doing as much damage as she could until she found it.

Finally she rounded a corner and saw the dull grey uniform of yet another guard. Deciding to indulge her hunger once more, she grabbed the man the the hair and yanked his neck back and drank deeply. She heard his screams of protest but ignored them. Each time he sobbed and begged for mercy, for his family, for his life, sounded like a song for her and as she felt him shudder then go still and become dead weight, she reveled in another blow against those who would have used her for their twisted purposes.

She let the body drop and spared it a glance, but that one glance brought her up short. The person lying in front of her was not wearing a grey security uniform, but rather a grey custodial uniform. The mop he’d been carrying still gripped in his hands.

Nicole stumbled backwards, her bloodlust momentarily forgotten as the realization of what she’d done sank in. Part of her mind reminded her that he was one of them, one of the ‘bad,’ but she couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t someone who was creating bioweapons, he was a peon who swept up after them. She dropped down and knelt beside him, trying to find a pulse, praying she hadn’t actually taken his life yet, but was quickly dismayed to find she’d done her job as efficiently as she’d feared.

She stood up and her eyes blazed red, even as tears began streaming out. She was angrier than she could ever remember being. Angry at herself, angry at these people, angry at everything. The alarm faded into the background as did the shouts from other people within the facility. She hefted her stolen weapon and walked determinedly back down the corridor to the labs.

In each lab, she destroyed computers and turned on their gas burners. She left the doors open, allowing the gas to spread. The facility seemed to be air-tight, a wise precaution given the dangerous materials being created there. Now, she used that to her advantage. Another guard came around a corner and she drilled him between the eyes, her fury overriding her sense of danger in firing a weapon in the middle of a gas-filled compound. She’d almost double-backed to where she started when she heard the boots of at least a dozen guards on their way.

She came around the corner and found it was more than a dozen. Almost twenty weapons pointed at her in a neat formation. She threw her gun down and raised her hands in what she hoped their culture also recognized as surrender. She could smell the gas approaching behind her. She didn’t know what kind of power source the building used, but she was relatively sure the entire gas line blowing would do some damage to it, perhaps if she was lucky, start a chain reaction. She just regretted she wasn’t going to be alive to see it.

She allowed herself a moment to appreciate the irony of her fate. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d tried to kill herself, but little did she know, if she would simply have been patient, fate would do the job for her. She wasn’t sure if she’d feel the shots or the explosion first, it would depend on their aim, she supposed.

The tingling effect that washed over her had her at first took her by surprise. She assumed it was her body unable to process the sensation of being shot, then burned, then vaporized, but as her senses calmed and her mind informed her that she was, in fact, alive, she dared to open her eyes. The sight of the transporter room in front of her should have been comforting, but instead it made her realize, she’d have to live, knowing what she’d just done.

She stepped down from the transporter padd on shaky legs, looking at the woman standing behind the controls. “Captain Edwards,” she said, formally, “mission accomplished.”

Then she collapsed.

Nicole took a long, hard breath. She'd pulled her flask out, but hadn't uncapped it. After her recent meal, she wasn't in need of it yet. "The lab exploded shortly after I was beamed up. The government had a hard time covering that up. The people rebelled, the Resistance gained ground and started taking them down. I didn't much care though, I just wanted to go home," she said. "I didn't want to be in another situation where I would lose control like that again." She glanced up at him, her voice soft. "Then I came here, and here we are. And I can't ever undo what I've done. I can never stop seeing his face, I can't ever ask him to forgive me, because I was too angry, too wild, too much of a monster on a killing spree to think about who I was killing."

Alec listened in silence as Nicole told her story. He was quiet for several long seconds before speaking. "I understand." His words soft, tone gentle. "No you can't undo the past however you can learn from it and more importantly you can stop living in it. You said you were too angry, too wild too much a monster to ask for his forgiveness. You aren't any of those things now. So why don't you ask for his forgiveness now?"

"Well as I said, he's dead," she snarled, her voice getting hard again.

Alec stared at her and shook his head. "Don't play obtuse Doctor. You aren't, and don't speak to me like I'm an idiot. I'm not." His voice matching hers in it's hardness. "I realize he's dead however you can still ask his spirit to forgive you or do you think you're beyond that?"

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Communicating with the spirit world is Cassandra's interests, not mine. I talked to the air for days after I got home. I even consulted a Numerologist to see if I could get myself in balance. Providence knows, I'm not the most spiritual person. I deal with what's in front of me. He's gone, and I can ask his "spirit" all I want, but I've only gotten silence in return and that's all I expect to get."

She looked down, suddenly not able to meet Alec's eyes. "I don't expect it from you either, just so you know. I am sorry though, I never wanted to...well okay that's not true." She huffed and rubbed her eyes. "I never thought I'd actually get to a point where I would hurt you like that."

Alec nodded, he heard the pain in Nicole's voice. "Nicole, your missing the point. Perhaps you can't talk to him but you can still apologize and that will help you deal and move forward. Give you some peace of mind. It may not be the absolution you want but it's a start. As far as me. Oh, I know you've wanted to knock my head off for a long time." he said with a soft chuckle. "Which was what I was expecting you to try. Instead you bit me. Tell you something ...... I do forgive you, totally. No strings, no conditions. No hard feelings. I know the stress you've been under trying to beat the simulation. Now you need to forgive yourself so your healing can continue."

Nicole's eyes were leaking tears and she stared over her knees into nothingness. "Thank you," she said finally. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to be alone now."

She didn't look up as he nodded and left and didn't really take in what his parting words were. She was too busy crying one last time, but it felt good.


JP


Alec Hunter
XO

Nicole Anderson
CMO

 

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