He had nearly killed himself.

Upon learning about the truth, about the wickedness of the government he had previously given his existence for, he had almost fallen upon his sword like every other well trained operative before him. It had been expected, the parliament had surmised his betrayal, though they weren't a group of men that would outright accuse such a soldier. They had reviewed his report, then announced that they found him through a series of evaluations no longer adequate as an active operative and were putting him on retirement. He was to be debriefed, and flown to a property that was his till the end of his days. It was there he would unpack to 'retire' and like so many other operative before him, would kill himself nobly within the span of several weeks.

He had been ready to take his retirement. They had flown him to a posh lake view on Osiris, a secluded house with all of the amenities. It was there he had unpacked, cooked himself a superb meal, soaked in a massive tub, then donned on his ceremonial attire (the uniform of the 147th Imperial Force, the special forces he had been with before becoming an operative), put on some classical music, stood in front of the window with a gilded katana poised to go through him, and shut his eyes.

He had slumped to the floor.

Weeping, the sword had clattered on the wood as he covered his face with shame. In his mind, he didn't deserve an honorable death. There was too much blood on his hands with nothing to justify it. Everything he had had faith in was gone, he had been stripped of everything to be left with the hollowness of guilt. He couldn't kill end his life, for he needed peace before leaving.

So he lived.

He had cleaned himself up, redressed, his mind whirling with plans. There were things he knew that could help him seek repentance, information he had been trusted with. What he needed to do didn't need to be epic,like taking down the Alliance, it just needed to be something that righted some wrong.

And he knew what it was.

He did not act in emotion as he took a small ship and flew it to the Osiris capital building. He was an operative, he was calm, collected, and there was no fluctuation in his face, nor a drop of sweat as he accessed the lower level of the massive granite building. As ornate walls gave way to the hidden Academy, he went to the very archives he had killed Mythias at and accessed the system. He found the patient list, and he found the two he was looking for.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur.

The escape had been a rapidfire work of a flawless Operative. Security could barely react as he had swooped in and taken the two from their sterile little rooms and whisked them away on the ship. Air Patrol had taken chase, but he was too cunning for them, and had spirited away like a ghost through the etherial.

The Operative remembered it as he landed his craft, the poor ship mangled from six months of chase. It jostled and groaned, as if telling him that one more pursuit would do it in for good. And in reply the Operative slumped in his chair and grasped his bloodied side.

The world spun, and the memories saturated his mind as it was sinking from reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Now Mr. East,” Niska leaned in, his grandfatherly face delightful as it fixated on a bloodied Virgil East “are you going to tell me?”

“That would take the fun outta this.” Virgil announced, wincing as blood trickled down his face. He was strapped to a post, his normally pristine suit ripped to shreds as his skin was bruised and bloodied “You gotta buy me dinner soon or this is gonna be a breach of etiquette.”

“You have his… how you say…” He gestured with a wickedly serrated knife in hand “Tenacity. Ah yes! You have tenacity, very good, very rare nowadays. Tato JÁ do téže míry. Now, how could you bare the thought of your crew being treated this vay?”

“I have a few that may find it kinky.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His mind reeled from the blood loss, the precious fluid making his shirt tacky and damp. However he was an Operative, and he rallied his mind, body and soul. With a deep breath his eyes came out of their fog, and he rose to his feet. Walking towards the back of the ship, he went to the cabin and immediately over to the closet. There he slowly unbuttoned the shirt, and peeled it off of his ragged hide to display the sopping bandage at his side. Removing a box from the closet, he efficiently opened it and began to access and use the medical supplies.

"Nanhai, Nuhai." He grunted, cutting away the bandage and taking it off to reveal an infected gunshot wound. Taking a bottle of fluorescent green liquid he doused it on the festering wound and groaned in pain.

Two small heads popped out from behind the bed. They stood there, no older than four, no younger than two, gazing at him with respect, fear, and no affection whatsoever. Seeing him wounded only made them more fearful.

"I need you to go and hide." He explained, without any affection towards them regardless they were children. They were not his children, and he held no love in his heart to begin with. Granted he cared for them, because through them he would find peace, through giving them what they deserved he could finally rest well. "I shan't be long...."

He injected something into his side which made the little ones flinch. "Where awre you doughing?" a tiny voice peeped, the words not pronounced properly as they were still too young to have perfect verbalization.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw the girl. Those blue eyes serious even when frightened as her light brown hair clung to her face. She reminded him of her father, the way he tilted his chin so, that same glare he had been given when the Operative had visited those pirates in the recovery ward. "To find help." He answered simply, wishing to take them along, however it was impossible. There were too many eyes, cameras, scanners to take two Alliance bred and born psychics out an about. Particularly the two in his hold, the more he had been chased the more he had found how valuable they were.

The little boy, his eyes and hair brown, bowed his head in silence before gazing back up at the girl that had become his sibling. For the longest time they stared at one another, before he piped up. "Will dey maketed ywou bedder?"

He shut his eyes, regardless they had been in his stead for half a year he was still not accustomed to explaining things to children. "Possibly, now please, go hide." As the footsteps clambered off to the small nook under the floor grates, he redressed the savage looking would and found a clean shirt and jacket. Holstering a gun in the side holster under his jacket, he slipped a thin knife in his boot, another gun in the other boot, and grabbed his satchel.

Leaving the ship with his precious cargo hiding inside, he sunk into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Someone came through the door with a box, and Niska lit up happily. “Oh, look vhat we have here.” He lifted a leg out of the box, a bloody stump that ended at the severed knee cap. “Do you know this leg?”

“Wouldn’t be that model I bedded a few weeks ago would it?” He squinted as the spotlight was on his face.

“I believe your cook. You have no guilt?”

“They knew when they signed on it was high risk. Are you gonna torture me or are we gonna have a teaparty?” The captain asked. “Cause I wanna getta few more blows in before we start the poetry reading.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had docked in Persephone's Elis Hills, a more affluent town that had a mix of tax brackets from the homeless beggers to the starched collared businessmen and women that walked down the street to the financial district as their well kept spouses shopped and lounged in cafes. He had managed to scramble the radar as the haggared body stiffly walked down the streets that bustled during the day, and the lightwave shield was still working on the ship, so it was invisible where it sat parked atop the rooftop of faux brick building. Regardless it was unseen to the naked eye or radar, he had to move quickly for the Alliance could only be kept fooled for so long. Remembering the reports, the endless sea of information he had gone through, for she was a rehabilitated criminal and such were constantly monitored if they were of her ilk, he found himself in a neighborhood on one of the more taller hills, walking up a row of old victorian houses densely packed together. There were no bustling businessmen and women and well kept spouses, for it was night and only the homeless were out sleeping in the parks, yet the looming patrol cars that kept the order at night were still a constant threat as he found the correct house and climbed the stairs.

It was a light blue house trimmed in white, with the spectacular architecture that was from the earth-that-was victorians. He didn't have time for architecture though, as he took a stolen Iden card from his pocket and scanned it over the doorknob. A small light on the handle turned green, and a holo screen projected in front of him to show a keypad. He typed the combination in and heard the locks deactivate with a click, and with a sigh he opened the door.

The interior was dark, though he could see the sheen off of the hardwood floors. Navigating through the house that smelled like fresh vanilla, through the immaculate living room with modestly expensive decor, he found the staircase and climbed up it. It was there he encountered a wedding photo, large matted and hung in an expensive frame. With eyes used to the dark, he took a moment to glance over the seemingly happy couple before going to the second floor. Though they were married, and lived in one of the more spacious houses in Elis Hills, it was just the wedded pair and no one else other than a tank in the library of exotic saltwater fish. With that knowledge, it made what he was about to do easier on his conscience (he had appeared to have grown one awhile back) as he gently pushed open the door to the master bedroom and flicked on the light.

The couple took a minute to stir in their massive king sized bed, under expensive sheets and in expensive pajamas. The wife roused first reacted suddenly. She sat up straight, wild eyed and bewildered, though striking as ready to defend herself. Upon seeing the operative though, she paled and froze in place. Her husband took longer to rouse.

The operative hardly batted an eye at them. While the man awoke slowly the woman got out of bed and faced him. She had the look of the few he had spared in his career; wounded, frightened, yet ready to blow his brains out. He didn't argue with her sentiments at all as he took her in. She was long and lean (her mother’s side), young, yet at the same time aged by tragedy. Her eyes were light ambry brown with hints of hazel in the right light, sharp towards him, and her hair was rufous brown (a more toned down color that her father’s blazingly red coif) and to her collarbone. In all, while carrying the looks of two of the most successful rapscallion's the universe had ever seen, she was dressed in a silky nightshirt and shorts. Her husband, when he sat up was dark haired and light eyed with more refined european features (quite possibly slightly inbred from some sovereign line). The spouse was also younger than his bride, not terribly so, but enough for him to look slightly younger. Standing there, watching them he grew distracted at marveling how she had rebuilt a life.

"What are you here for?" She finally forced out, low and whispery as a hand trembled. He was not the refined angel of death that had brought an end to her prior existence. He was not well groomed, polished, poised. The man with no name had a thin beard, his hair outgrown, cargo pants and a grey tee under a leather jacket. HIs shoulders were slumped, and his eyes had not seen sleep for days. It was a conundrum. He was always polished.

"Too zai zi..." The husband, slow from being roused from a deep sleep, finally jumped to his feet and grabbed a gun in his nightstand.

"Hamilton no!" She yelled from the side of the bed as suddenly the man who had come into their home had pulled a gun on her husband.

Hamilton stood there, his body tense as he had never been in a stand off before for he was trust fund puppy. The gun trembled slightly in his palm as he gazed across to her. "Is he Alliance?" He probed, confused and trying to find a spine regardless he wished to cower. Turning he went back to the operative. "What has she done wrong? You... you just had us inspected and she was taken in for evaluation..."

"I am not here for official business." The invader told the pair. "I am in need of help."

While Hamilton stood dumbstruck, her eyes burned with rage. "Help? Help?! You’re asking for help? Help?! After all you’ve done, what they did to me because of you you come asking for help?” She glared murderously at him, cutting him off. Her teeth were bared, and her fists trembled. “You can go…”

“I have her.” He blurted, keeping his gun trained on the husband. She was enraged and confused, and no real threat so frazzled. “I have what bought you your freedom.”

Her face slackened, growing ashen as eyes dulled and glossed.

“What gave you this seemingly normal existence, is in my hold right now.” He divulged seriously.

Hamilton was confused “Tasya what is he talking about?”

Wide light eyes filled with agony and guilt, though she braved through it and swallowed thickly. “In your hold…that… it can’t be….”

“I’m on a path towards retribution. I have her, and another that is of relation and I am going to deposit them with their rightful kin.” His thick voice clarified, though it broke with a slight waver. “Which does not make this legal in any sense.. however I do…”

“You’re, you’re a rebel?” Hamilton scoffed. “You want her to help you? For what? Do you know what would happen to her if they knew a rogue officer visited her?”

“Tasya I will take out the band they put in and free you.” He exclaimed, desperately.

“They’ll send me back.” She hedged, though the offer was enticing beyond all description. For too long she had been kept curbed, unable to experience her ability to read and glean and have an unrestricted mind. The contained mind of a mere everyday human was stifling and claustrophobic, and it was a reminder every day that she was nothing more than a prisoner without a physical cell. "Do you know what they'll do to me if they find out?" Her jaw set, expression nearly flinching at the thought. "Dying would be the best thing..."

"Then come with me."

Hamilton scorned the invitation critically. "Lunacy."

She said nothing, staring into the nothingness in front of her, contemplating the offer.

"I need your help, I can't keep doing this alone. I know your feelings towards me, what I did to you was inexcusable, but please..."

"Tasya?" The sneer that flashed Hamilton's pointy teeth dropped from his clean lips. "Tasya.... you can't think of doing something like that..."

She gazed at her husband apologetically as she stepped away.

"Baobei, baobei, NATASYA."

"Hamilton, please." Voice choking, Natasya opened the door to their closet and walked inside, tears stinging her eyes.

Hamilton's bed tousled head whipped back to the wounded rouge operative before him, his eyes wavering.

"Are you going to support her yearning of freedom, or summon the fedbase like you promised the parliament." The operative questioned.

"Are you challenging me?"

"No, I'm merely trying to point out the nobler of the two." He swallowed thickly, for it was draining to be in such a situation.

"They'll kill her." Hamilton told the man with the well trained gun.

"You obviously don't see her eyes."

"Why."

"Yin wei wo yi jing." He expressed on a sad note. Before, he could have cared less, yet at that time he had also had a purpose to fall behind.

She came out in a pair of loose pants, slip on loafers and a coat she zipped up. "I'm going to need the gun." Tasya addressed her husband in an uncomfortable tone.

"Tasya, just think this over..."

"I already did." Tasya gathered her thick hair up and tied with back whilst walking over to her husband.

"I can't let you...."

She took the gun from his hands and looked him straight in the eye, her own glossing over. "I... I can't explain this, partially because... I... but..." She swallowed thickly, for although she didn't love him with all her being, she still loved him enough for it to hurt. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry..."

"Tasya..."

"Hamilton you knew enough to know I would never be like anyone else you could have taken." She forced.

Reaching out, the younger husband gathered her hands in his own and kissed her knuckles, shutting his eyes as the anguish was apparent. For although her affection was not close to giving him her heart, he had given her his. "He could be lying."

She batted away tears, for she felt more about putting him in the current situation than she did leaving him. "He's a monster, but he never lies."

Biting her lip, she pulled her hands away and tucked his gun into the waistband of her pants.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are a man after my own heart, no empathy.” Niska tossed the leg aside and set the knife down to select a new tool. “You may vant to start praying Mr. East, this vill only get worse as we progress.” Picked up a different instrument of torture. “Perhaps we vill bring your crew in eh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eilis Hills was alive with chaos.

Through the night, milky with the light of urbanization, the wail and blur of sirens droned on. Local forces had called for a citywide shutdown, apparently a group of terrorists had been found enroute to murder kill a government official, and there was reason to believe the group not only had a large cache of explosives, but also a small yet deadly amount of uranium. Residents were told to stay indoors as the military was joining forces with local law enforcement to hunt down the terrorists they were chasing.

The terrorists were also driving a brand new black sports hovercraft.

Tasya shut off the radio as she throttled the gas and the onyx black craft tore down the road like a bat out of the Hades. Cops were lagging behind as their craft didn't possess an engine worth of a grand prix racer, however she still glanced at the rearview mirror for it was only a matter of time before the military swept in. "Terrorists. Nice, broad generalization for a coverup."

"They do what the must." He winced, grabbing for something, anything, as she down shifted and the craft whined as it served and whipped to turn down another street as police craft had begun to come towards them.

She stole a glance at his panged face, her lips forming a taunt line at his understanding. Suddenly a bright light shone through the windshield, blinding her and making the hovercraft falter and pitch. "Yobany stos." she grimaced, having to squint.

"That would be the military." He swallowed, for being jerked around by the ride was doing damage to his already ravaged side. It was true, for as he gazed up at the heavens through the translucent roof, he saw three ships, all carrying artillery and men that were only dispatched when there was no one else to turn to. A hand going to his torso, his eyes widened when they fell upon what lie ahead. The building itself lie ahead, but also a military blockade with the thick hover tanks and a handful of fine soldiers with their guns poised.

"Hold onto something." She shifted into high gear and gripped the steering wheel with one hand whilst the other adjusted the amount of upthrust on the console.

Their craft rode as high as it could off the ground, and as he gripped his seat for dear life, the craft bobbled when it smacked into a soldier, the man flying off of the windshield. Bullets sprayed, nonlethal cannons fired sonic waves, and at the last moment Tasya adjusted the dials once more so that the craft's rear upthrust dropped dramatically, sending it charging towards a tank at an angle.

It soared over the tank, clipping it's back end against the piece of military hardware.

The operative could not brace himself for the crash, as they hit the street, the craft bounced several more times, sparks flying from metal on pavement, glass bursting forth in a deadly cascade. They flipped and rolled to a stop by hitting the wall of a post office. The once expensive sports car, polished to a mirror sheen, was a totaled and twisted piece of scrap. They hung upside down, for that was how the craft rested, their seat belts keeping them in place.

Tasya, phased but sharp from adrenaline, took off her belt and fell out of her seat. "Hey, hey get up, come on." She shook his shoulder.

He groaned, for wounds and exhaustion only compounded his latest agony.

She turned to see the soldiers running forward as aircraft flew into place. "NOW."

Catching wind, he coughed and drew the fuel and smoke lined air into his lungs, eyes flickering open. He was weak, at the end of his rope as he saw her face and his head rung from the crash.

"Where's the ship." She demanded, driven to escape, for she had given up everything, and she could not be punished so soon for that decision. "Come on, come on, where's the ship." Reaching over, Tasya scrambled to unbuckle him, catching the bloodied man by the shoulders, she eased him from falling as a groan elicited through his lips. Feeling his side, damp and tacky, his once pressed shirt rode up to reveal the bandaged wound. It was not the right moment though for concern as he came to his senses. "Wake up, bing juqie gao su wo chuan nei li."

Looking around, the bright lights of the military craft down upon them, soldiers drawing closer, ropes being dropped from the aircraft as men of no rank nor name prepared to slide down and exterminate them, he wet his lip. "Come closer." His hand weakly reached out, and grasped a sharp shard of glass.

She moved in closer, eyes darting to and fro as the heart inside her chest galloped.

His fingers bled with slight pressure from holding the glass, nonetheless hell was coming down upon them, and he summoned all of his strength as he reached up and seized Tasya by a fistful of hair, and slammed her head to the ground. She panicked, yet before she could do anything the shard went behind her ear, and he cut the skin.

Tasya yelped, more from surprise than pain.

With a grunt, he cast the glass aside and used his fingers to dig into the hewn fold of skin. Feeling the piece of coated tech fabric, he ripped the band out from under her scalp. He could hear the other operatives zipping down the lines and touching the ground, the breath of the soldiers as they commanded them to come out, the heat of the lights as they lay slouched in a wrecked hovercraft.

But his plan worked.

A reader suppressed for six years, unable to express a natural gift, had a massive amount of energy to displace. She could not control it, nor understand as a wave of pressure, years of rogue migraines were suddenly cured as it felt as if someone had pulled the stopper out of her skull. There was a rush, a sensation that made her toes curl and her body electrify as if in climax. The world and all it's secrets, and the freedom from her physical husk came upon her, and she could feel herself like a torrent surging through their minds, all of them.

Operatives, soldiers, and anyone in a two block radius was caught in her wake. Their heads felt like split melons, and they dropped to the ground and cried out, pawing at their scalps as blood oozed forth from their nostrils and pooled in their ears.

He, who had fallen from their ranks, also suffered from his plan, however as his mind swam, he managed to crawl out, and grasp her sleeve to make her come to.

There was a moment, as her mind settled and the chill on her spine decreased, where she had to be nearly dragged out of the hovercraft. Eyes focusing from their dilated state, they found his, and with the sight of eyes that had taken everything away, she found her composure.

The two stumbled to their feet, and he led the way to the building as entire squads writhed in pain and painted the asphalt red with their blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren and Pike collapsed on the grate floor of the torture chamber.

"Wow, they look bad." Virgil cried flippantly as husband and wife gasped for air, Pike wrapping an arm around his beloved to help support her. "You know, I don't think they were ever tortured during the war."

"Hey boss." Wren coughed, her upper garments had been ripped from her body and she was streaked with lashes that were bloody and raw. The lewd guards sneered at her exposed chest, and she covered her breasts with an arm whilst snarling at them defiantly.

Niska arched a brow and watched.

"Hey yourself, nice assets by the way Wren." He gulped for air and twisted his wrists. "You show the hundan with the whip your lack of three toes from that POW camp on Ita?"

"Glad you're in good spirits, captain." Pike said drolly as he could not see out of one eye. He too, had been lashed, and his back looked like ground meat.

Niska gave a signal to his guardsmen.

"Of course I am, our host has been showing me how to give a victim a splendid time." He watched as a guard seized the fatigued and bloodied doctor, as the other grabbed a pair of pruning shears and pulled his fingers apart.

Wren's eyes widened slightly, however she merely swallowed to soak her dry mouth, and looked her husband straight in the eye to give him some strength.

"So you're gonna cut the fingers off of my doctor? What about me? Where are my severed limbs? There's no fun in being a wallflower."

"By all means sir." Pike said shakily. "Come down here and take my place... it's a tong xiao."

Niska's fingers, shaped like scissors, told the guard to snip.

Pike yelled in agony as his little finger fell to the floor. "GAN NI NIANG!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to the ship opened.

They stumbled inside, scraped and bloodied, shutting the hatch and heading to the cockpit.

"Can you fly?" He asked, his voice lagging and slurred.

"Yeah." She sat down and flicked switches, grabbing the yolk and pulling down a lever. The ship bucked slightly, jostling as it rose up. However instead of waiting to properly level off, she pulled it to a high angle, and let it rip through the atmosphere.

He collapsed in the co-pilot chair, panting as his eyes were heavy, and his nosebleed had added more stains to his shirt.

"When were you shot?" She asked gravely.

"Ten days ago." He confessed. "I fear infection may kill faster than the feds."

Her jaw tightened, light brown eyes squinting with thought. "Where are they?'

"Hiding, safe."

"Where is the family?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself. Why?"

The little ship broke atmo, the sound reduced from a roar to silence. "Because..." The pilot flicked more switches, and hit a button so the engine wound itself faster, and their getaway sped up to full burn. "We have to stop somewhere and get things straightened out. You're of no use dying from infection..."

"There is no place to stop." the dying voice admonished.

"St. Albans. There's a temple there for readers." Tasya corrected. "They provide sanctuary." There was skepticism in his dark, pain hollowed eyes. "It's safe, Li Ten has been in hiding there for twenty years and your people have never even gotten close. We'll be safe there. I promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pike's bare feet were last seen as he and his wife were dragged back out of the room. Left, were all of the fingers from the doctor's hand, in a bloody pile on the floor and looking like a collection of massacred giant worms as they had departed from his hand in contorted poses.

Virgil was not phased.

Niska stooped and plucked the index finger up, walking over and holding it right in front of his victim's face. "Vhat do you say to this Mr. East? Shall I bring someone else in and we play again or do you tell me? Hm? Speak up."

“God, judge him fairly and justly after I turn his head into a candy dish…. Amen.. how was that for ya?” East heaved as he felt blood pooling in his ears. “I think Jesus likes it when you omit the filler and get to the point.”

“Then let me get to the point.” He thrust a blade into the captain’s side. “Vhere is Malcolm Reynolds?”

*** *** ***

DEFINITIONS/TRANSLATIONS

Tato JÁ do téže míry: Czech- this I like

Nanhai: boy

Nuhai: girl

Too zai zi: Son of a rabbit

baobei: darling

Yin wei wo yi jing: because i already did

Yobany stos: Russian- f***

bing juqie gao su wo chuan nei li: and tell me where the ship is

tong xiao: barrel of laughs

GAN NI NIANG: MOTHERF***ER!

*Honest feedback is always appreciated*