<FWG> (Section 31) "Alone With Your Thoughts"

  • From: Brad Ruder <kylepiercecpa@xxxxxxxxx>
  • To: fwgalaxy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2007 16:22:21 -0800 (PST)

From Section 31...
  "Alone With Your Thoughts"
  by Mosaic
  & Ilixia Rydyn
   
  
   
  Mosaic listened as Vector's voice fluttered away, like the static electricity 
in your hair in the morning. Her metallic heart was still pumping rhythmically, 
steadily, at a faster rate from that peculiar message she picked up before 
Vector's voice started to ruin the almost esoteric mood those words had been 
setting. As she turned around, she removed her coat and tossed it over the back 
of her pilot's seat, already feeling the frigid air of the cabin turning the 
sweat on her skin to ice. 

She stretched her back and her arms, placing her hands on her hips and putting 
her elbows back like butterfly wings. A little moan escaped her as the tension 
in her back feigned alleviation, and she breathed heavily, feeling her 
adrenaline lower like the thermometer from Hell. As these small comforts were 
coming to her and her eyes were closing in this brief intermission before the 
next Shakespearean act took the stage, she forgot where she was and tripped 
over something protruding out from her left wall.

Only stumbling, Mosaic fell back into reality and apologized to that which 
tripped her, "Sorry, lady. Not used to using throw rugs."

What tripped her was flat on its back, and still had a bleeding lip and a 
current sleeping dragon complex. When Ilixia Rydyn awoke, Mosaic was going to 
have an Uberbitch on her hands, and it didn't seem too terribly fun. 

She was being chased. Chased by monsters, chased by demons, chased by horrible 
villanry that she couldn't elude. They were upon her, she could feel their 
breathing and the stench of uncleansed breath, but she pressed on. Faster and 
faster she ran, but she knew that it wouldn't be good enough. It would never be 
good enough.

The hands closed in around her, some on her arms, some around her torso, but 
the last was most terrifying. They clenched her throat, slowly squeezing the 
life from her. The world went blurry, as if it were a slowly fading holodeck 
program. Ilixia attempted to cry out. 

And did so.

She awoke with pure nausea. The world around her was unfamiliar, the 
surroundings even more confusing, and the restraints holding her still slipped 
instantly from their usual kinky nature to a feeling of unsurmountable terror. 
"W-where am I!?" She managed to exclaim, pressing herself against the wall as 
if disappearing into it were an option. 

"I'm always confused," Mosaic responded, not really getting up from what she'd 
engaged herself in doing in the other corner of the ship, "whenever someone 
says, 'Where am I?' I think if you just took a moment to gather your wits you'd 
figure it out soon enough." 
"Let me go, by order of the Vice Chairman of the Federation Council. I fall 
under his protection." Ilixia struggled valiantly to maintain her composure, 
the sheer helplessness of the situation creeping in. 

"That confuses me even more, these little demands for the captor to let the 
captive go. You know, I think it's safe to say I wouldn't have nabbed you if I 
intended to just say," and Mosaic said this with the most bittersweet mockery, 
"'Okay, you're free! Now don't tell people where I am!' Impulsive questions and 
demands are going to get you as far as you think they will, Lixie. So cool it."

"What do you want with me? I haven't done anything. I'm an assistant to the 
Vice Chairman of the Federation Council. I run errands, make meetings, that 
sort of thing." The desperation was ever-present now, drenching every syllable, 
and she knew it. "Unless you need me to plan a campaign or regulate a schdule, 
I'm no use to you!" 

From Ilixia's left came a frustrated growl and her captor stood from her chair 
and now knelt in front of her, staring at her intensely. "How long do plan on 
assaulting me with these asinine questions? 'Oh, oops! I kidnapped the wrong 
person! Better send you on your way!' Right. No, no, you're totally right. I 
have no idea what I'm doing." 

Mosaic reminded herself of Olivia Martin's physical educator back in her school 
days, as she reached out swiftly and knocked Ilixia's head just hard enough for 
it to wobble back and hit the wall behind her. 

"Come on, woman, you're embarrassing me. I'll get to all that in a second. 
Just...just shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you. With this tool they used 
in the olden days to clamp two pieces of paper together. I'll take your lips, 
stretch them outwards, and put them in this little thing, and then next thing 
you know you have little stitches of metal through those dry, unkissed lips of 
yours." 

And she got up and begrudgingly went to her console and started tapping away, 
deliberately too loud. 

"Touch me and I'll have the might of the Allande Prime Government on you faster 
than you can say my name." Ilixia's eyes grew intense, out-shining her horrible 
predicament and returning to that sinister demeanor that she had in the 
political arena. "Why did you take me from San Francisco? Why? I want to know 
why!" 

Ilixia heard this strange clicking noise and turned her head to see her captor 
holding a...a form of...was that a six-shooter?...up at the length of her arm, 
with the aim on the bridge of her nose. "Fuck the stapler. Say so much as 
another word before you're asked to, and I'll send you packing."

A smile wafted over Ilixia's features. "My guess is there's a reason for 
kidnapping me. If you had wanted me dead, you'd done it already." The words 
were tauntingly specific, the look on her face unwavering in it's arrogant 
nature. "So, I'll ask again, why am I here?" 

A loud bang shook the inside of the little black ship, and beside Ilixia's 
deafened ear there was a sparking of lead on metal. After the ringing subsided, 
Mosaic shouted intimidatingly, "Patience is a virtue, my fair lady, now put a 
sock in it and you'll have your answers." 

It jarred something. Blood trickled from her ear, the drum no doubt ruptured, 
Ilixia's eyes rolled back into her head. "It made so much sense... it was 
fool-proof... what went wrong?" Her words came out muffled, as if speaking 
through a pillow, and the words came repititiously. Repeating as if they were 
the lyrics to a song on a scratched record. 

Mosaic thought about firing another shot, but her ears and her reasoning that 
the damned woman was just mumbling stopped her. She finished up her work over 
the recreant fifteen minutes that followed, and got up, moseying over to her 
gurgling hostage for a little girl-to-girl pow-wow.

"Okay, dear Lixie, you're going to tell me exactly why Dominion soldiers 
stabbed the Vice Chairman. And then you're going to tell me why Ilixia Rydyn, a 
well-respected politician's aide who's seen tricks of the trade for years would 
make such a brash, foundationless accusation that Sashella Moraine was trying 
to assassinate the Vice Chairment. Disclaimer: the fact that Sashella Moraine 
was not who she said she was is null and void, seeing as how there are many 
reasons for a girl in a mask to get into the office of a man in power. And..." 
she melodramatically pointed at her with both gun-like index fingers, "...go!" 

"Fool-proof, it was set up perfectly... the right time and place... the 
circumstances are well. You deserve this Ilixia... it's yours..." 

"Ooh, more cryptic stuff!" Mosaic, again with the melodrama, clapped her hands 
together and did the elated schoolgirl motion. "My favorite! Start making 
sense." 

"With the Chairman out of the way, you'll stand in for him, re-election will be 
a breeze... it's easy... crucial that it's now... Shashella is a fraud... make 
the move... set her up... no one will ever know..." Her eyes were still empty, 
staring off into the vast unknown, left to rot with nothing but her thoughts as 
company. 

Mosaic chuckled. "You're talking to yourself, aren't you? And judging by the 
coercive and headline-factual nature of the bits and pieces of your 
jumble...I'd almost guess someone's putting this into your brain. Tell me, 
Lixie. Is it the Gusmati? Are you, and I gasp, under the influence of aliens?" 

She coughed, smirked, laughed, and coughed again. Then whispered, "They know 
who you are..." 

"Oh yeah?" she said, confidently. "Then tell me, who am I?" 

"They know... and they're going to win... no one can stop them... they're 
everywhere." The words and phrases were beginning to run together. No longer 
picking up where the one before it ended, but meshing, bits and pieces of each 
coagulating as if one obscure notion. "They're everywhere... in everything... 
in everyone..." 

It's almost like she's talking about the Section, Mosaic mused to herself. 
"Okay, Lixie. You're completely useless to me now. I'm going to let you go, but 
before I do, I'm going to promise something to you: you're going to be rid of 
these bad thoughts, okay?" She felt sick saying it, but the sentiment might 
ease her hostages willingness to comply. 
  
"These thoughts aren't mine..." 

"I know, Lixie. I know." 

 
---------------------------------
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