It's only flesh

[Tear]

It floated in the black amidst the shining needles of star light. Small and dark it drifted, a cargo ship by the name of Cuth, it bore the insignia of the Empire. It's lights flickered intermittently, illuminating the swarm of debris that surrounded the seemingly dead vessel. The vacuum of space, despite the short circuiting bursts of light, did much to preserve the ship in its dying moments. It's hull had been cracked and sheared open. The edges of the gash were charred black and twisted by heat. An explosion or possibly even a weapon impact of some kind.

The orbiting debris bore the results of the ships cracked shell. The atmosphere having been blown out revealing the ships guts for all the void to see. So it drifted, left to bleed and die, kept company only by the circling remains of torn bulkheads, the odd cargo canister, even the frozen remains of several crew members.

But where was the predator that had struck? Was it lurking in the dark between the stars? Watching, its prey in death throes until inevitably succumbing. There was nothing to explain what had just happened. Questions all being asked by the bone white Imperial class shuttle that just arrived off the dead Cargo ships port side. Its sensors swept the immediate vicinity finding nothing beyond the dying vessel. If the ship had been attacked its aggressor had seemingly left.

One of the Crimson guard looked over his shoulder to his Empress, who had a look, not of concern but rather of intent, etched in her features. Her jaw tightened as she turned but the guardsmen knew the question before she had the opportunity to ask.

"Our scans are having trouble penetrating the ship for survivors. The surrounding radiation in the blast debris is disrupting them. It's likely they attempted to eject their hypermatter reactor and it detonated before they could reach a safe distance."

"Or it could be the result of weapons fire." The second of her crimson guard spoke up. "Our scans aren't detecting a second vessel but it could still be near. Waiting for ships like us who poke a little too close. We aren't a match for much in just a shuttle your highness, we should leave."

The two guards shared a look of agreement despite their differing reasons of what had caused the Cargo ships destruction.

"Your will Empress?"

[Miranda Tarkin]

There was only one course of action, despite the concerns of her Crimson Guards. Her Master, the man with the Sun for eyes, had summoned his Apprentice here for further training. Miranda could not discount the danger that they faced - He was a master of deception and it would only take one second of relaxation to perish if He deemed her unworthy.

"Come around to the other side. There should be a place to dock." Despite the logic of their assessment, they did not argue with their Empress. Their duty was to protect and obey the Imperial Throne, but they had their doubts about how wise this was.

As the shuttle came around, Miranda's lips curled enough in unsurprised that this half of the cargo ship was far more intact. Engines had long grown cold but were still in one piece and as predicted, the docking mechanism had not been damaged. Her Master wouldn't have sent his student all this way so she couldn't come aboard.

The docking sequence was initiated and the wings began to fold upwards as the Crimson Guard brought the rear of the shuttle towards the hatch. The shuttle shook briefly as the locking mechanism took over.

"Docking sequence complete, your highness," same the steadfast reply of one of the guards as he continued working the sensors. "Atmospheric controls appear to be operational as well." He shook his head, "Unable to pick up any life forms, but that could be because if there were any survivors, they might not be in the immediate vicinity."

"How are the long range scans?" asked Miranda.

"Long range are still not picking up anything," replied the other guard.

"Stay here and remain vigilant in case that changes."

"Yes, your highness."

She had already stood, heading to the exit hatch, "Var ... You and I will be suiting up and investigating the wreckage for any survivors."

The door swooshed opened, causing her hair to rippled just slightly as she exited. Var was quickly on her heels and approached her just as the compartment to the enviro-suits opened. Black and red pressurized suits not only offered protection from the environment and low levels of radiation, but they were also reinforced armor for physical protection.

As each joint was slid into place, gears shifted and locked, and once the helmet was in place, the suit hissed, sealing the user inside. A HUD came online providing environmental status, infrared/uv imaging, and sensors.

Var grabbed two blaster pistols and a vibro-knife before placing fresh energy cells in his blaster rifle before nodding to Miranda, indicating he was ready. The Empress was only armed with a single blaster pistol.

She hit the side panel and the rear doors opened, steamy wisps shooting out from either end as their HUDs began to process information. There was a breathable atmosphere as indicated by the shuttle's computer and there were no apparent life signs. It was dark, except for a few lighting panels that fickered on and off in a poor attempt of sparking to life. Most of the ceiling had fallen apart and was scattered as debris on the floor. Some hung precarious by wires. Paneling had been cut/pried opened in hopes that the systems could be repaired. Broken crates and transport tubes were cracked, leaving a mess of bacta and computer parts.

Var turned on the flashlight on top of his rifle and took point, with Miranda following close behind. Both of them were on high alert, but the Empress remained vigilant, knowing that her Master would make his presence known soon in some form. His last impromptu lesson was about the value of pain, and she had a feeling that this venture would expand upon it...

[Tear]

5 Hours earlier. Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

-------

"Your bleeding", the child's sweetly high tone cracked with concern.

"It's alright Mira. Its only..." Renton held his left hand awkwardly, an attempt to keep the budding blob of crimson on his thumb from dripping. His other hand was busy rummaging through his grease ridden belt pouch. A moment later he had deftly peeled by the sticky adhesive and wrapped it around the tiny cut. "...a scratch. See? All better."

He lowered his thumb for the child of six years to inspect. Big blue eyes inspected the bacta-aid with wondrous scrutiny. Mira's tiny hands could wrap themselves one on top of the other and still just barely make it to the knuckle of Renton's thumb. She gave a testing poke of the bandage and Renton gave a teasing yelp startling the girl a step back and into a fit of giggles.

"Now pass uncle Renton that spanner and lets fix yer ole' daddys engine. Else he's liable to make me go outside and push."

----

Present time: Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

Beyond the still hissing hatch, where their shuttle had docked, the crumbling length of the hallway groaned. Like a giant metal beast that was twisting in nausea the cargo ships inertia could be felt by the pair as they made their way forward. It was an unsettling notion to know the stability of your world was actually tumbling endlessly through space. Likely the gravity plating of the ship had malfunctioned with whatever calamity had befallen the vessel. Lighter objects like data pads, a mechanics spanner, and even a picture frame were floating mindlessly about the darkened corridor. But heavier objects like people, cargo containers or chairs remained under the grasp of the ships gravity plating.

Again the ship moaned, its bulkheads stressing the durasteel frame that bound it together. Luckily, the pair could hear little beyond the sound of their own panting reflecting back to them under their helmets. The constant moan of metal might have been unnerving if it wasn't for the odd crackle and flash of a shorting circuit. It was easier to ignore moody background noise when your eyes were treated with an irritating flash every few moments.

Ahead of them Var's flashlight finally found the end of their path. A large set of closed blast doors sparkled with ice. The Crimson guard ran his hand along the middle seam of the door brushing away a shower of frost that began to drift around them like never falling snow. To the right, the doors control panel was still lit, the simple manner of activating it would open the door.

The crimson guard turned over his shoulder looking to his Empress for consent. Miranda gave a curt approving nod and readied her weapon. Var used the pinky of his enviro-suit glove to activate the unsealing of the bulkhead door. A resulting beep of confirmation and the guard took a step back readying his own weapon.

Several seconds past in tense silence. The door remained closed. Var gave a grunt, lowering his weapon he prodded at the control panel again, and again there was a beep of confirmation. The panel began to smolder.

"Well this won't do..." The guard shouldered his weapon and bent down to pry off the control panels casing revealing the manual release switch for the door. Another moment past with the odd hiss of frustration on the guards part as he struggled with the frozen switch. A sudden pop and the switch came free causing Var to stumbled back. The door jolted with a deep thud the sound of ice stubbornly cracking echoed down the hall.

Yet the door remained shut.

"Empress." Their communications chimed with the familiar voice of her crimson guard that was left behind in the shuttle. "I've been running consistent scans of the vessel for life forms. I managed to cut through the radiation briefly and got a short reading. It appears there is something just beyond that door. Moving."

[Miranda Tarkin]

Intriguing ... she thought as her own gloved hand was set against the metal door. A slight purposeful slow stroke removed a thin film of frost as she weighed the countless possibilities of what could actually be lurking behind the blast doors. The danger was far more considerable, and likely, then finding a hapless victim that survived the attack upon this vessel.

Her course had already been decided, and to retreat was not an option. To retreat would be considered a failure and the man that had become curious about her might wind up killing her instead. But it would be important to point out that it was not fear that drove her, it was desire to learn and to grow for her own betterment and survival. Plus, she was a Tarkin ... the Force aside, since when does a Tarkin back away from a challenge?

As Var got to his feet and began inspecting the panel further, Miranda looked around the room for any other mechanism that might assist them in opening the blast doors. The area was illuminated only by the light on the side of their helmets, which made it difficult to see intricate details through the wreckage. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw a darker shade of grey upon the side of the wall. It was a grate. Shining the light fully against it, it looked to be part of the ventilation system and was just big enough to fit either of them without Enviro-Suits. Something that was problematic due to the below freezing temperature readings Miranda was getting from her HUD.

"Empress?" said Var to get Miranda's attention. He was still huddled over the control panel. "We have some power in this area and it might be enough for me to override the system."

She nodded and Var went to work. It would be preferable if this succeeded in opening the blast doors then crawling through frigid ventilation ducts with the Force knows what behind that door...

[Tear]

4 Hours earlier. Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

"Hey princess. Hows daddys favorite space monkey doing?" Jonathan Harnen, Captain of the Cuth, a modest man with simple tastes in life. It was often a man could look at Jonathan Harnen and feel the pang of envy. Not because he was the richest man on his trade route or even the smartest. But because he was a man of accomplishments. A beautiful wife, with the sort of love that left most couples in warm hearted awe. The captain had fallen in love young and married his first sweet heart, Laura Penning. Together they were bringing up a charming young daughter, who could make friends with mold if given enough time. Jonathan seemed an honest man who was achieving what most people agreed he deserved. A good life.

"Hows Uncle Renton doin' on fixin' dads engines?"

The tiny girl did a clumsy pirouette "He does this!" She puffed up her chest, flexed her arms, and used her gruffest voice. "Gawwwdammit!"

Jonothan bit back in a wince. Shrinking his neck into his shoulder as if he was about to run through a rain storm and made a slow over the shoulder glance at his wife, who had been talking to another crew member just a foot behind him.

"Gonna' have'ta talk with Uncle Renton about his language use." He could feel Laura's scowl on the back of his neck. Brace for impact, he thought to himself, gripping the arms of his captains chair tight.

"Gawwwwd! Ammmit!" The little girl squeaked again.

----------

Present time: Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

It was almost relaxing. Watching objects float unhindered by the will of gravity. Items as simple as a piece of ice twirled with delicate elegance few dancers could dream of possessing. Even time itself felt slowed, as if the maidens wielding the tapestries took a moment to watch the beauty of an object tumbling freely through space. Miranda had likewise taken a moment to inspect a nearby view port. Its glass was cracked and frost had taken purchase along the edges where it met the bulkhead. But beyond its fractured surface outside the ship she could see things, things drifting slowly, things lost, things dead. She couldn't tell how many people because the cracked glass was playing tricks, breaking one scene into many.

Behind her the corridor echoed with ticks and tacks with the floating ballet of random items clanging lightly off the walls. Then there was Var, his heavy suit gloves floating near his head, he had removed them in order to re-shunt extra power into this section. Nimble fingers, even frozen ones, were more apt to the work in the small space then the clunky gloves.

"Almost..." There was a snap from the circuitry and several lights in the corridor flashed to life flooding the hallway in light. "Got it."

"Now lets see." The Crimson guard waited until Miranda settled into position and once again raised her weapon, just in case. He strained with the manual release lever for a moment before it popped and slid into place with a metallic thud that seemed to resonate through the flooring and shake the toes in Miranda's boots.

It could barely be heard, the thin wire plucking sound of ice cracking, the doors shuddered. Another tight pop as a piece of ice shot free from the pressure like a bullet cracking off of Miranda's helmet before ricocheting down the hall.

The doors where shaking now under the strain from the hydraulics but nevertheless, remained closed.

"I could shoot it?" Var advised frustratingly as he gave the door a hard smack with the butt of his rifle.

[Miranda Tarkin]

Tarkin shook her head twice in disagreement. "That might work but we are uncertain as to who or what is alive behind these doors. If we blast it open, we either kill whoever is back there from the cold and lack of atmosphere, or risk being ambushed by a threat with all the noise we've been making."

This was all part of the test and killing whatever was behind these doors was not an option at this time until her Master's plan was revealed. That could only be done by finding out what it was.

"There is a ventilation shaft that is just large enough for one of us to enter without our suits." She illuminated the grate with her flashlight for Var to see.

"If one our citizens is trapped behind these blast doors, I must know." He understood the order and realized the implications of it. He was a well trained Crimson Guard and would be the faster of the two to take off his gear, scout the area and come back to suit up before the cold could take him. It was dangerous, but this was what he was trained for. And if Tarkin had volunteered, he would have insisted that he go instead until he was ordered to back down. Fortunately, that was not the case and began to meticulously take off his enviro-suit under the grate ...

[Tear]

2 Hours earlier. Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

The red lights whirled and flashed filling the corridors with an urgency little Mira had never seen in the crew she considered family. Something bad had happened. Uncle Renton had said it was a...kon..ta maminan leak? Then he started bleeding. She remembered it vividly. Something angry chased them. Something scary. Her mother was running with Mira in her arms, head pressed against her chest but she could still hear it. The screaming coming from everywhere. People ran past them in the hallways of flashing red, they looked just as scared as Mira felt.

They stopped for a moment. "Jonathan?" Mira's mothers voice was desperate and filled with uncertainty. The name of her father caused Mira to raise her head from her mothers chest. She struggled to look over her shoulder through her mothers tight clutching arms. At the end of the hallway a group of men were standing. Their faces red and broken, some were limply walking forward others were hunched slightly. Mira grabbed tightly onto her mother when some of the men suddenly leapt forward. They were like animals frothing and growling as they came screaming down the hallway toward them.

"No, you cant take her!" Mira heard her mother scream as she turned to run in the opposite direction but something happened. Her mother fell and Mira found herself toppling across the iron girders of the floor away from the safe arms of her mother. Mira clutched her head, she had banged it but it didn't hurt just yet. She knew it was about too though. Her mother was face down struggling on her hands and knees when someone grabbed a handful of her hair and wrenched her head back. It was uncle Renton, but it wasn't, his face looked hurt. He had a hole in his cheek and she could see his pearly white teeth through it. He was whispering something but Mira was too far to hear it.

"No...baby run!" Mira's mother reached out frantically trying to fend off the swarm of bodies that began to crowd around her. Uncle Renton had something in his hand, he rose it high and under the pulsing flashes of the emergency lights she could see it. It was the spanner she had fetched for him earlier. He brought it down hard, Mira couldn't see what was happening but she could hear a gurgling cry. He brought it down again and again until it was glimmering wetly under the red lights.

"Shhhh..." Renton turned to Mira, his chin dribbled with saliva seeping from the chewed hole in his cheek.

"See?" He reached down grabbing a fist full of hair and wrenched back, strands of stringy flesh clutched to the floor and stretched as he revealed the bloody mash of collapsed bone and loosely hanging eyes that was once Mira's mothers face. "All better..."

--------

Present time: Imperial Cargo Ship Cuth.

The deep cold bit into Var's unprotected flesh immediately. If he felt the pain he did not show it, not in front of his Empress at least. From soft pink skin to frigid scales of frost the cold set upon the unprotected breaks in his suit. The Crimson guard was quick into the shaft knowing he would only have moments to shimmy through it and hopefully come out on the other side before the cold took him.

Miranda could hear the echoed grunts and the reverberating sound of fabric rubbing consistently against the vents tight corridors. Minutes past, and the sound slowly died, leaving Miranda to stand quietly in silence, waiting. Before the eating irritation of standing idle could take her the Empress checked the powercell on her weapon, fully charged. She took it out, thumbing the connectors to make sure frost hadn't seeped in then slammed it back into her weapon and checked again, fully charged.

Too quiet. The waiting finally took its toll with Miranda restraining the eagerness in her voice as it broke through communications, "Var report."

"I've dropped down onto the other side. Moving to the doorw-. " A stretch of interference rained through drowning out his voice for a moment. "-Gravity plating is still a little wonky but there seems to be a breathable atmos-" Again interference flooded the channel causing Miranda to wince uncomfortably as she listened from the other side of the door. The roar of interference died like it did before but this time Var's voice didn't feed back in.

"Var, lost you for a moment. Sit-rep." She craned her neck curiously as she listened. Silence answered with the musical tapping echo of various items still bouncing down the corridor.

"Repeat, I lost yo for a mom-"

Help.help help. Something akin to a whisper seeped through Miranda's helmet causing her to stop mid sentence. But when she paused to listen the noise was gone. Her lips parted again and she took a breath to finish her sentence. Help. help help help. Her heart pounded, this time Miranda heard it clearly, some hushed tone whispering at her but from where? It was hard to pin point where it was coming from through her helmet. The voice was too soft to be Var but... Miranda found herself following the sound coming to a stop at the blast doors. It was coming from the other side.

CRUNCH! The large blast doors in front of Miranda nearly exploded in a shower of ice as they began to open. Miranda tumbled backwards with the gust of pressurized air and fragments of ice buffeting her body. Steadying herself quickly she moved forward, weapon trained on the opening until she could feel her shoulder pressed up against the right side of the blast doors. A quick peek through the opening with her helmet scraping against the side of the door as she kept her body flush against the cold durasteel.

Nothing. Var would have warned her he was going to open the door but he was no where to be seen.

"Help." A tiny high pitched voice chirped at knee level causing Miranda to take a startled step back. A tiny girl stood staring up with hands of frost bitten blue clutching weakly at the doorway.

[Miranda Tarkin]

The gun remained fixated on the shivering child in suspicion. Var might have lost communication due to the cold temperatures, so it was quite plausible that he would arrive a few seconds after this child's appearance. Unfortunately, it couldn't be that easy. Her mind began listing off possibilities as to what this situation presented: Was it a child that managed to live? It seemed highly unlikely with what her Master had planned. This was a training session after all. She could be bait for either Pirates that managed to come aboard, or any other conceivable ilk of the sort. This might not have anything to do what was planned, but a possible unknown variable that would just enhance this experience.

Between suspicion and cruelty, Tarkin could not deny aid. She made certain the area was secured and backed up quickly to where Var's armor was laying. Scooping up the contents, the Empress returned to the opened blast doors and dumped the armor on the floor.

"Come quickly child!" came the filtered voice of Tarkin through the external comm system. It became quite apparent that the child was on the verge of collapse. Shaking hands could barely keep the tiny form upright pressed against the durasteel. In fact, it looked as if she were in pain. The cold was biting and slowing the life from her.

Pushing against the floor with a stiff boot, the Empress leaned in to catch the child. She was on the verge of unconsciousness. Var's suit would be far too large but there was enough material to make a makeshift suit for the time being. First the helmet went over her head so that fresh oxygen could be infused into her lungs. It would take some time for the effects to reach her bloodstream, but it was start. The body suit that was left behind was fitted for the child by the use of a vibro-knife, which produced amateur slits at the arms and legs. Over sized gloves crowned the frost bitten hands and the Empress waited to see if the young child would stir.

In the meantime, she readied her blaster in case this was a trap, and partially hoped that Var would reappear - though her instincts were telling her that was unlikely. Something or Someone happened to him. Crimson Guards do not just mysteriously disappear into thin air. Either the hatch took him somewhere else further away from the Empress' present location or someone was delaying his rendezvous with her.

"Makk this is Tarkin, over?"

Yes your Majesty?

"Your readings were correct. I've located a small child and will be heading to you shortly. However, I've lost communication with Var. He went through a shaft to open the blast doors, and there has been no word." The Empress took a long sideways glance at the opened blast doors. "But someone had to have opened them. Can you find any other life forms?"

[Tear]

"...You found me." The girls weak voice was muffled somewhat by the heavy helmet that caused her to list to the side when she tried to move. Mira's eyes were watering but she couldn't wipe them, the large gloves simply bent against the face shield of her helmet. In this sudden new found moment of peace her emotions seized their chance to promptly bubble over. Miranda quickly found this child was no different, then any other, as her emotions quickly found sway over her limbs the tiny girl dropped to the floor and simply began to sob.

Mira was, in every definition of the word, exhausted. There was no terror or elation, only raw emotion, and the only thing that felt solid was the grating she had collapsed over and she felt content enough to simply cry. Hoping the memories of the last few hours would vanish behind a flood of tears. That was until a voice crackled to life in her helmet giving the tiny girl pause.

"Yes your majesty?"

Mira's fingers crinkled testingly with the warmth beginning to restore feeling but her mind was busied with other thoughts. Majesty? She thought with a tinge of excitement that bit back the tide of soppy tears.

"Are you a princess?" She asked with child like awe as she pulled her knees up beneath herself in an attempt to stand. That was silly she thought immediately after saying it. Why would a princess be here. Unless this wasn't real. Maybe it was just some nightmarish fairy tale and she was still sleeping in her bed.

Then the voice in helmet returned, "No readings beyond your immediate vicinity. I have Var's status. His heart is steady, he's alive, but I can't pin point where exactly. Perhaps I cou-"

The metal world around them rocked violently, shaking the tiny girl back to her knees and causing Miranda to stumble backwards against the nearest bulkhead. Down the darkened hallway an echoing roar of shredding hull could be heard. Then, like waiting out the aftershocks of an earth quake, the deathly calm of the dead ship returned.

"Makk report." The Empress settled her suit giving the wall a push to right herself as the little girl at her feet did the same. They both felt the silence was answering back in place of the voice where Makk's should have been. Down the hall, should they peer out of the nearest view port they would find a field of stars, filling the gap their shuttle should have been.

Now they were alone.

[Naberius]

...Or alone as one could feel as sounds of wailing came echoing through the corridors. The two girls spun on their heels to the half parted blast doors through which Mira had been found. The small gap between the thick steel teeth of the doors seemed darker now, more foreboding, as bitter moans licked their way up through the unfaltering cold of the ships belly.

It made it easy to miss the light buzzing of an insect nibbling its way through Miranda Tarkin's environmental suit. She would feel it, a brief tickle working its way across the back of her neck, which she would try to scratch by resettling the suit against her shoulders with a shrug. The sudden realization it wasn't a scratch but an actual creature would occur when its tiny legs began tracing their way around her earlobe to the earpiece that had once connected her to the crimson guard. The insect not fully organic spiked into the device much like an mosquito into a vein and when the screech of static subsided she would hear a familiar voice.

"Miranda. Your guards have been taken. Make your way to the bridge of the ship. Protect the child she can show you the way. I will be waiting." There was a spark fusing the insect to the earpiece which made Miranda flinch and attempt to smack the device from her ear but she only managed to swat the side of her helmet. To which Mira could only stand and stare up in confused wonder at her rescuers mini spastic attack.

"Are you alright princess? We should go before they come." A tiny hand in a glove much to large for her flopped forward pointing toward the door. It was clear the right path was the source of the wailing accompanied by the ever closer thudding of footsteps.

"I think we should go left."

[Miranda Tarkin]

She was good at reassurance, it was how a young Miranda started out, spewing propaganda to quell the masses into complacency. It came through clearly in her voice as she answered the child's question, "There was static. A harsh sound that came through my comm link. It didn't feel so good ..."

Mira accepted this answer readily enough and was looking contemplative as Miranda was racing with thought. At least her Master finally revealed himself and looked down at her tiny companion. "I agree. Let's hurry."

She picked up the child and walked swiftly down the corridor since there was no time to really ask who 'They' were. 'They' had taken her guards away, not a trivial feat. Distance needed to be found, otherwise this test would more then likely come to an end far too soon ...

Footfalls began to grow lighter to the extent that she was racing on air. Well placed boots soon tip toed on the floor. She struggled to regain her footing, it had been several years since having to work in Zero-G. The corridor was damaged severely enough that suppressors were barely functional. Long awkward strides finally turned into bounding leaps, as Miranda forced the child's face into the pit of her arm. Blood smears stained the walls as if a ball of paint had been thrown against it or flung against it. Hand prints marked the last vestiges of life were fought out, but by how severely mutilated the corpses were at the end of the corridor, not much of a struggle could have been endured.

One body had no head or arms, though the limbs bouncing off the walls in a sickly scrapping noise from the bone hitting metal might have belong to it. The other two corpses had entire chucks of flesh ripped out of the abdomen, thigh, and breast. Bones had to have been shattered for the embrace they shared was no indicative of any possibly anatomy. She had to flick a spinning finger away from the helmet of her small companion.

"What is your name?" she asked the girl who started to stir to look up at her. Tarkin placed a hand upon the oversize helmet that was protecting the child's head. She didn't want her to look up quite yet.

"Mira."

Miranda couldn't help her narrowing eyes and sneered at Tear's mind games because it was highly improbable of the coincidence that this child shared the nickname that Sorsha had given her. Her Master had been inside her head. Who knew what information the Dark Sider had gleaned. The thudding footfalls were getting closer and there was no time to debate this possibility.

Bounding over one of the corpses, Miranda's night vision through the H.U.D. was able to spy a control panel at the other side of the door. "Okay, Mira. We're going to the bridge."

"How come?"

"Everything that works on this ship has to go through there. We'll be able to call for help." It wasn't a lie. At least she hoped it wasn't. For all she knew there was no one waiting on the bridge for her and she was utterly frelled. Her arrogance disallowed that thought to continue. She was valuable to her Master. He would be there. She just had to prove to him she deserved to be in his presence again, something that Tarkin was not accustomed too, but in this case, warranted. He was vastly superior to her in the ways of the Force and she craved his tutelage.

Mira seemed to accept that answer as Tarkin bounded over to the control panel and sighed. No flickering lights or even a spark that power was running through it. The time it took to try and fix it would give more time to her pursuers to close the distance. There was no guarantee it would work either.

"I'm going to set you down and look for something to pry open the door" she said calmly and looked into the small face buried inside the helmet. "I know you've seen such horrors on this ship, but stick close by and watch the corridor for anything. Don't look back ..."

[Infected]

The sounds of death vary as much as the sights of life. Masses may whimper as a torrent of nuclear destruction incinerates an entire city. An individual may scream in tragic circumstances when slain by a jealous lover. These are common on the ends of death but wasn't was to hear death from the living. As Miranda filtered through a pile of junk that had formed its own mini orbit in the middle of the corridor she would unknowingly ignore the sound of scratching bone and sloshing flesh as it was too unnatural to register as a threat.

It wasn't until little Mira struggling to keep a single tippy toe steady in the low gravity suddenly squealed in panic. Her tiny hands in oversized gloves flopping against the legs of the Empress in a wild attempt to seek safety.

The sound was just as unnatural as the sight. One of the corpses Miranda had past was crawling awkwardly toward the pair. Its leg was bent and twisted starting an overall theme for its now grotesque malformed body. What loosely resembled a once human male was now staring pale eyed with an unknown hunger at little Mira. Its hands reaching out, the flesh stripped from some of its finger tips while out right missing a pinky and thumb.

"Saaaaaave me..." It wheezed, its voice raspy and hallow as its clawed fist tightened around little Mira's unbalanced and floating leg.

[Miranda Tarkin]

Miranda whirled around in alarm and watched as little Mira was flopping around in a panic to be free of the Infected clutches. The corpse's grip was too strong for one so small and frail as a child, and soon its hungry mouth would bite deeply into innocence. The Empress couldn't allow that to happen.

Batting away small broken bits of metal, she pulled out her blaster to try for a shot, but that only increased Mira's anxiety. Little arms and legs kicked fervently as the child screamed, deathly afraid for her life.

Pressing against the side of the hallway, Miranda used that momentum to hop over to flank the corpse for a better shot. Little Mira cried even more, having to watch the Empress move farther away was distressing her further. The girl cowered as the first blaster bolt echoed, and then found herself quickly floating towards the door. Hands pressed outwards to avoid a collision, but her teeny frame ended up rolling up the door as the severed hand of the corpse came into view, still tightly clamped around her little leg.

She never screamed so loudly.

Flesh was so weakened by decay that severing the corpse's hand came as a surprise even to Miranda. At least she garnered its attention. Wailing moans and listless eyes turned towards her, "Saaaave meeee ..."

Both hands to the hilt of her blaster, she shot the thing right between the eyes, and watched its head slump to the ground finally devoid of any artificial life that had kept flesh moving.

All attention refocused on the poor screaming child that was helplessly floating towards the ground, flailing and swatting at the decomposing hand that wouldn't let go of her leg! "GET IT OFF!!! GET IT OFF!!! GET IT OOOOOOOOOOOFF!!!!"

Springing off the floor, Miranda caught the child within an arm and used the other hand to stop from smacking into the ceiling. "It's all right, Mira. Shh."

Tiny arms wrapped around the Empress' neck as they slowly made the descent to the floor. Once there, Miranda broke off fingers and thumb, the sickening cracking and snapping of bone drowned out by the girl's fear. Slapping the fingerless hand away, she consoled the child with soft whispers of security, "It's all right Mira. It won't hurt you anymore."

"But there's MORE!!!" She wailed, "I know there are!!! There always are!!!"

"And I'll protect you," Miranda said with conviction to help soothe the child's fears further. "I promise."

[Tear]

"Did your mother ever teach you a lullaby?" Miranda asked while giving one of the near by corpses a nudge with her boot.

"Twinkle twinkle?" Mira was still clinging onto the Empresses hip even though both were wearing bulky and heavy environmental suits. The malfunctioning gravity plating in the section made it easier for the young child to sit astride Miranda's hip. Obviously it hadn't been Miranda Tarkin's first option while she rooted around dead bodies and pieces of bent metal for a tool to pry open the lift's doorway.

"That's a good one. Sing it to me." Miranda grunted as she bent to fetch what looked like a crowbar. It was slick with blood, likely used as a makeshift weapon for whatever hell had erupted over the ship.

A minute later, with Mira still in her free arm, Miranda had managed to wedge the turbo lift doors open. Empty. The lift itself seemed to have crashed into the bottom of the shaft. The explanation of why nearly sucked both woman and child down the conduit to the same flattening fate. The Empress tossed the crowbar through the parted doors, and what should have floated in the nearly zero gravity environment, fell like a driven spear to the bottom. The gravity plating malfunctioning through the ship had increased the gravity in the conduit to nearly double what it should have been.

"Mira."

"Yes?" The girl had been silently rehearsing the lyrics.

"You're going to have to get onto my back and hold as tight as you can, ok?" Miranda reached forward through the doors. The tug of gravity pulled at her joints, her muscles trembling for a moment before she pulled back with a grunt of exertion. "Hold really tight."

She could hear them now. The others that Mira spoke of, the others that were following them through the dark. They sounded hurried, too many foot steps to count, coming too fast to waste time trying. Mira could hear it too. The tiny girl squirreled around to the Empresses back and did her best to lock her floppy gloves around Miranda's waist.

"Hurry." The girl yelped.

Miranda's own hands fumbled with haste, struggling to ignore the panic that was building the lump in her throat. She ignored the hiss of oxygen that plumed when she disconnected her breathing tubes, using them to fasten Mira securely to her body. "Don't look down."

Miranda took her own advice as she slipped through the doors and began skirting the edge of the turbolift shaft. She hadn't even begun to pull when her shoulders began to quiver and ache with the simple strain of standing, yet alone, climbing.

"Are you alright Mira?" The bones in Miranda's fingers felt like they were bending within the fat clumsy gloves. Each hand hold up was barely an inch deep, just enough to dig her forefingers in, but every time she pulled they felt like snapping. "Where's that lullaby you were going to sing me? Want me to start?

The girls tiny legs and arms squeezed hard around Miranda's hips.

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high"

"Like a diamond in the sky." A small nervous voice finally joins.

"That's right." Miranda would have smiled if her face wasn't bent with effort. Each striving arm raised above her head swayed like a faltering tower before clasping the next groove. It was becoming hard to breathe now. The Oxygen supply left in her suit was quickly running out. "What comes next?"

"When the blazing sun is gone,
When the nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light

Twinkle, Twinkle, all the night"

Mira's body was beginning to slip with every pull and underneath the girls scared voice Miranda was sure she could hear the squeak of plastic tubing stretching. She knew they had to go faster but her body was failing. Her chest burned, the air was growing thinner, and her limbs had begun to numb four feet ago.

"Then we travelers in the dark..." Mira managed a glance down, from her perch on Miranda's back, to the bottom of the shaft expecting to see darkness waiting for them. Instead she nearly screamed. Eight or so soulless black eyes were staring up at them. The infected had already poured through the doorway and were beginning to climb. The little girl slammed her eyes shut, squeezing tighter.

Th.. th..those travelers in the dark
Thank you for that tiny spark
We would not know which way to go
If you did not twinkle so"

The sound of plastic snapping cut through Miranda's labored breathing, emphasized by the horrific realization she had suddenly become lighter.

[Miranda Tarkin]

The sudden shift of weight alarmed Miranda greatly and for a moment, she had hoped she had hit an area of stabilization. Unfortunately, the youthful scream behind her crying out her name alerted her that things were far from fine.

The increased gravity made even the simplest of turns slow and aggravating. If the gravity would have been regulated, Miranda could have easily snatched little Mira's hand and saved her from a grisly fate that awaited her below. The sounds of slobbering tongues and mashing of teeth, excited for the taste of young flesh were driving the Infected further into a frenzy. Yet her hand caught the scant distant of air between them, barely brushing against the oversize gloves that Mira was frantically clawing with to reach the outstretched hand that offered life.

"No!!!" Desperation could only manage that as a response, at least verbally. Little Mira was her only chance at salvation, at finding her Master and escaping this nightmare that constituted training. If she failed, there was no certainty that her Master would see her worthy of surviving and rescuing her - Empire be damned or not.

But then as fear gripped her heart and as her mind frantically calculated a way to save her little companion from being ripped into shreds of flesh for consumption, Mira's descent slowed to a halt - though all manner of limbs flailed around in a fury of fear.

Then suddenly, she propelled forward awkwardly, twisting in mid-air and tumbling over once before slamming into the awaiting arms of Miranda - who's eyes were ready to burst out of their sockets from shock. Little arms and legs squeezed against the Empress' suit. "HURRY!!!"

Mira's plea brought the Empress back to the present and the severity of their situation, as infected slowly began the ascent of the ladder towards fresh meat. Hunger drove them forward, giving them the strength to reach towards the next rung and pull themselves up. Fortunately for the Empress and her young charge, one infected lost it's arm due to the heavy gravity, pulling the ball joint from out of it's socket and sending the monster downwards - halting the climb of half of the group. Bodies tumbled back down the shaft, allowing for opportunity of escape.

Muscles had been invigorated by a strength that the Empress did not realize existed. The forces working against her were still present, but the weight was alleviated for a brief moment in time. The was a renewed exhilaration that was the force behind her pounding heart. It have her strength to her fear, which was just the right amount to propel herself up the last few rungs of the ladder.

Mira rolled off of the Empress' back and laid on the open floor, face up and with eyes tightly shut as if to hide away the horrors that were still clawing their way towards them. The scraping of nails against durasteel, the wails of hunger - it wasn't going to end.

Sprawled out and exhausted from the climb, it took all of her concentration to block out the voices of the infected and Mira. Wobbly limbs that buckled repeatedly were warring against Miranda's self preservation. With one well placed boot against the floor, she was able to push herself onto her back, giving her a good view of the edge of the lift doorway. Pulling out her blaster pistol, she waited with bated breath for the influx of infected to pour over the top. However, gravity was on her side this time. Their movements would be slowed and it should be easy to blast away the opposition one by one as they peeked over the top ...

[Tear]

The rubber of Miranda's gloves squeaked against the metallic finish of her pistol's trigger. The small flash of light was near soundless amidst the roar of Miranda's own urgent gasps, struggling hard to breathe beneath her helmet. It's oxygen tubes having been disconnected to tie Mira around her waist earlier. The swift red bolt fired from her pistol found the curved wall of the turbolift shaft an inch above and to the right of her intended target. The brief display of sparks from the resulting impact did little to distract the swarm of decaying bodies as they crawled over each other toward the opening above. Despite the hungry screams from below, Miranda's aim corrected on the second shot shattering the first creatures skull into a spray of red. It's limp body falling back into the depths it had crawled up from.

A second creature was already half way through the opening. It's crawling more frantic then the first. Miranda's arm trembled. Her muscles spent to the point of numbness. Thick and swollen from the effort of the climb. The small weight of the gun in her hand was becoming unwieldy. She squeezed the trigger anyway. The bolt seared through the shoulder of the creature. Beyond the hammering impact it looked oblivious to the gap now smoldering from its torn arm. Again, Miranda squeezed the trigger, the weapon jumped in compliance spitting forth another bolt of crimson. The second shot caught, what was once a man, in the throat, turning its maddened hissing into a wet gurgle that faded with his life. He too slid back from the turbolifts edge and down.

More hands, too many too count, clawing forward and pulling forth dead black eyes. Eyes, that upon finding a victim offered a screams so hideous and crazed it plucked cords of a primal nature long thought to be driven to extinction by civilization. The dark room lit with red as Miranda again pulled the trigger. The brief succession of flashes only quickened the seeping panic that was beginning to nest within the pit of Miranada's stomach. Each flash hinting to the unending swarm of bodies raging to find purchase over the next.

The Empress cussed in frustration. Her weapon's energy cell was nearly spent and its barrel sung the song of over heating, filling the air with an angry sizzle. She saw it. A panel pried open with exposed wires clinging to its dangling casing. The lifts control panel, it had been left open after someone had apparently been tampering with it.

"Works in the holo's." Miranda coughed, raising her weapon and firing. The panel exploded and oddly enough the lifts doors began to close to the tune of screeching metal and the wet crunch of bodies being severed. The doors ground to a bloody stop a mere six inches apart. Despite the wriggling arms and hisses the lifts doors weren't budging.

Finally, Miranda thought, half rolling onto her side. She tried to lift herself but her arms refused and her exhausted body didn't try the issue. That was until Mira screamed. The Empress rolled onto her stomach, doing her best to lift the helmets weight and look up. The room was dim, filled with large tanks that lined its sides. There was a central path that lead up a flight of stairs to a doorway. They were the stairs that lead to the bridge but between them were three men standing not five feet away.

"Run!" Mira screeched but it was too late. The men sprang forward. It only took a moment as their boots beat rapidly across the deck plating, instantly closing the gap between them. They sprang onto Miranda's prone body like a pack of wild animals. One began furiously hammering his fists down against her head and neck. The glass visor of the Empresses helmet crunching with each blow until all she could see was a spider web of broken glass. The other two clawed and bit into the suit, ripping patches as they sought the supple flesh they knew that was hidden beneath.

[Miranda Tarkin]

Mira wanted to help but she was scared stiff, hiding behind the edge of the threshold that led to safety. She had made her way there during the initial assault on the Empress, the blood craving making them fixated on the prone woman before them. Her body shook with each blow against Miranda's body, every gnash of teeth trying to rip through the suit caused little feet to retreat further up the stairs slowly, afraid to move too suddenly or she would be turned on by the infected.

She held a gasp as Miranda's helmet strained under the pummeling fists and chewed on a trembling lip.

Miranda, on the other hand, was between panic and rage. After every damnable obstacle with crazed blood thirsty monsters with a lethality that rivaled any weapon the Empire held in its arsenal, she was going to die right when the end was within reach? She had no leverage, the infected saw to that. Her suit was going to become useless in the matter of seconds and her pistol was out of reach, having dropped from her hand when she toppled through onto the other side. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, she had nothing left.

The helmet muffled the beginnings of it, but Miranda's scream increased steadily, changing into something primal and twisted. Her voice did not crack, nor stop it's perfect pitch of rage singing through the shattered glass of her visor. She didn't want to go out like this. She was meant for more then dying in some derelict by mindless beasts. Tear knew this. He wouldn't have created this ship of horrors just to kill her. He saw something in the Empress the day of her wedding. Something untapped. Potential that was buried deep under hatred of the same power she possessed.

"NOOOOOOO!!!"

Her back arched in defiance and something odd occurred. To little Mira's eyes, she watched her protector cry out and then the air seemed to compress upon itself near the infected before they were catapulted away from Miranda. Little eyes grew big like saucers, not understanding what just happened but it did happen. She watched one of them smash into the tanks and hit the wall as more of the tanks toppled onto his prone body. Another shared the same fate as the first on the opposite wall and the last simply smashed into the wall behind Miranda.

The Empress who looked about the room in a daze, looking down at her body to where monstrous hands had finally tore away the material but there were no bites, no scratches. She was unharmed.

"COME ON!!! HURRY!!!" came Mira's desperate cries, waving Miranda to come to her. The infected were fast. This would only delay the inevitable.

The helmet was useless and cumbersome now, Miranda couldn't see through it. Her escape would be hindered and she had suspicions that if they could just make it to the bridge, right through that hallway, having an envirosuit wouldn't matter.

She hit the release on both sides of the helmet and tossed it aside. Surging with strength that surprised the Empress, she scrambled to her feet, snatching up the pistol along the way.

Tanks clinked against each other and the floor. Moans of hunger began filled the air. They were coming.

The pistol was long since over heated from the previous fight and she was afraid that if she let loose another bolt, the gun would explode in her hand. She already had another idea. The power cell still have enough life in her that it could work. Hopefully. She might have found some surge of adrenalin pumping through her muscles, but there was no chance she could out run these infected.

Setting the cell to overload an already overheated blaster, her torso twisted, flinging the gun at the pack that were starting to converge together for the renewed hunt. Miranda face forward and ran, blocking out the salivating wails behind her. The gun would go off in three seconds.

"Go up the stairs!" she yelled, waving Mira onwards who looked terrified to move. "GO!" She finally did, little feet stumbling up the stairs and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief.

BOOM

Scrapnel from the pistol embedded into her back but the force of the explosion propelled her forwards. She rolled against the floor and hit the bottom of the staircase. She groaned and rocked back and forth in pain, ears ringing from the explosion. Eyes burned in pain but she heard the infected howling. It was too blurry to tell how badly they were injured and Miranda wasn't going to wait around and find out.

She had a good look at the staircase in front of her prior to the 'boom'. Using her arms and legs, she crawled up the first several stairs and finally to her feet, Miranda hopped over them, missing every other one on purpose to put distance between her and them. Along the way she caught up with Mira and scooped up the little girl, who's initial reaction was to scream and kick.

"It's me! Quiet!" she hissed, survival instincts had taken over. This was no time to be gentle and Mira quieted herself, clinging to Miranda's arm and burying her face within her shoulder. She felt the warm sting of liquid hit her face and the girl knew that the Empress was bleeding. Just how badly, she could not say. She could not see the multiple jagged pieces of shrapnel still lodged in Miranda's back, or how much of the suit had been charred and destroyed in the blast.

As they ascended, darkened walls flickered with illumination. The door was opened already. The end was within reach. Barreling through the doorway, she slapped the side panel and took up a position behind a computer console. Arms cradling Mira in protection, Miranda eyed the doorway as it closed, wheezing from the lack of proper oxygen during her escape. Hoping that the nightmare of this challenge would finally be over.

But the door had yet to hit the ground first ... And she could hear them coming...

[Tear]

"Miranda." Her name whispered so softly the sound curled around her ear like the delicate touch of a lovers fingers. The Empress turned over her shoulder but there was nothing. The room was silent. It's corners dark with flashes of light springing from malfunctioning consoles. In the center was the captains chair and in it was the still corpse of a man. His head hung back, mouth agape with dead eyes left staring at the ceiling. It looked like he had died screaming, the rigor mortis in his body giving hint to the last moments of terror he must have experienced before death.

The flooding sound of footsteps beating against the metallic grating of the stair case echoed up through the open door. The reverberations working their way into the room itself causing the loose casing on the console in front of Miranda to tremble. The Empress reached forward, sliding her palm along the smooth metal, silencing the dim clatter. Her eyes holding steady on the door way despite the mixture of blood and sweat that stung them.

"Can you feel it?" Another whisper. This time it felt like the voice came from within Miranda's own mind.

Their hands came first. Feeling cautiously along the rough grating. Some eagerly tracing the intermittent trail of blood Miranda had left in her wake. Some crawled, others were simply crouched, but they all moved together, seeping forward like an amoeba of teeth and nails. They followed the trail of blood as it curved into the room. One infected even going so low onto his hands and knees as to lick it from the floor. Sliding his tongue all the way to the door way where he stopped. They all stopped, oddly poised at the threshold to the open room. Their motives largely drawn from primal instincts. It was clear they sensed something unsettling within.

The infected gnashed their teeth together. Growling and howling in anticipation of the meal just feet away. Fear only played it's part for so long before the insatiable hunger grew too much to withstand. One of the infected suddenly bolted forward. Leaping on top of the console Miranda and Mira were sunk behind. It screeched ear bitingly loud. Its trembling fingers reaching down toward Mira with a want so deep it began to weep.

A noise, loud and wet like an impact or a pop caused the pair to jump and squeeze their eyes shut. Miranda suddenly felt a warm mist wash against her face. The Empress blinked, a red haze was falling like fog over the crouching pair. The Infected's now headless body rolled backwards and flopped lifelessly to the durasteel flooring. Standing, between the console and the door way, Tear inspected his gloved fist. It was covered in bits of flesh and brain matter.

"Can you feel it yet Miranda?" Another whisper danced through the Empresses mind. This time she knew where it came from. Tear looked up for his bloodied fist. His eyes locking onto Miranda's. The memory of their first meeting fresh in her mind. He looked the same, eyes of gold, hair slightly longer but slicked back in place. He was still wearing a suit sans the jacket. A black vest over a soft sky blue shirt with a politely tucked in flat gray tie. His sleeves justifiably rolled up to his elbows.

Miranda's eyes widened. Beyond the man in the suit she could see one of the infected dart forward from the pack poised at the doorway. There was a maddening screech and two more began sprinting forward just feet away from the mysterious man. They would take him by surprise if she couldn't give a warning. Miranda's lips, sticky from the drying blood, separated and she sucked in a breath to fuel her shout but then held it as she witnessed something unexpected. Tear's body suddenly blurred out of focus, fading and rippling with echoes of movement too fast for her untrained eye to fully comprehend. The first infected was suddenly crushed into the ground. The downward impact of something hammering it with enough force to literally squish it's body into the durasteel flooring. The second infected still sprinting forward was suddenly torn in two. The savagery of the attack splitting it apart with enough momentum to carry both halves equally across the room. The third infected managed to leap into the air toward the spot the man in the suit had been standing a mere second previous. The Infected's body contorted suddenly. It's forehead snagged mid air by the man whose own body finally reappeared. His shimmering form settling back into focus leaving him standing just a foot away from the doorways entrance. The infected mob howled and rushed forward like an avalanche of twisting arms, hands and mouths. The man swiftly raised his hand and a wave of force erupted outward. Sending an explosion of bodies catapulting back into the ship and over the staircase railing. A secondary twist of his hand and the door to the bridge came down with a solid clang, shutting.

The former Grand Inquisitor turned from the door way, his arm shaking as he dragged the last infected along the floor. The creature snarled, it's mouth foaming viciously as it writhed in Tear's grasp. It's growls increasing in pitch alongside a sound much like that of an eggs surface slowly crumbling. Then a pop and the infected went limp before being discarded to the floor. Tear gave his fingers a quick flick sending a suitable amount of blood and bone flying.

"Miranda." He said calmly while lowering into a crouch next to the huddled pair. "Are you alright?"

[Miranda Tarkin]

"What's happening?" said Mira, clinging to the Empress desperately as the chaos heading their way did not let up. Inevitability of failure, where there should not be it, was barreling their way. Hunger that drove the infected mad in the wake of the blood left behind and the sense of fresh meat in the air - it would be mere seconds until they arrived.

Shivering under the cold caress of her name spoken, spooked her, causing Mira to look up at her strangely but the fear was still there. Hearing her name out loud, it must have been the adrenaline that was making her hear things. Nothing alive with conscious self was here. Only the sounds of the diseased coming closer.

She looked around for anything to be used as a weapon. There was durasteel beams that were too heavy to use as a club, panels sparked and hiss with useless wiring, and the ground was littered with small objects that would do little if thrown. Pushing forward, she kept her stomach contents down from the putrid stench that emanated from the Captain's body. Maybe he had a working blaster or ... something. This is where the exercise was about to end and in what way eluded her. There had to be some clue, something to point in her in the right direction otherwise they were going to die.

Again the voice came and she pulled her searching hand out of the Captain's uniform in distress. This time, it felt as if the voice was all around her and it was also in that time that she realized that the infected had finally caught up with them. She had found nothing in that time to protect them and slowly retreated back to Mira, keeping the girl behind her. They ducked under the console for some cover, a desperate attempt for protection that wouldn't last long. Not with the strength of the a crazed and hungry mob of infected. The breath of decaying flesh hit her face as the first one came straight for them.

"Don't look," Miranda said and huddle Mira into her chest to avoid having to watch what was about to happen. She would not deny herself the fear that came. Never did she think death would come like this and that reality also angered her. She was Miranda Tarkin, the bloodline of great leaders and power was inside her. She was chosen to lead her people into peace and prosperity and all of those plans were about to die on an unknown ship in space because she had decided to learn the ways of the Force. Irony wasn't completely lost. She was an abomination about to be eaten by one. Perhaps there was some symmetry in her death.

The lone infected howled in hunger and victory for having first picks to this fresh meal before its howl became garbled. There was a sickening crack of bone and flesh before a warm splash of liquid showered the pair of them. Miranda took the brunt on it and attempted to blink away the stinging from her eyes to find out what was happening. Perhaps another one came and attacked the other? If they were fighting amongst themselves, that might give them time to escape.

But escape was not the plan. Not when her eyes adjusted to the image before her and the voice in her mind was finally recognizable.

"You ..." she whispered in awe. He was here all along. He was the one they were to find in the bridge. Clever.

What happened, not even Miranda fully understood. First she was about to shout a warning to him so he could defend himself, but in the next second he was gone. Yet the infected died brutally but Miranda never actually saw the attack. From her perspective, the first infected was gruesomely smashed into the durasteel floor, the next was ripped to shreds by a blur, and the next was being dragged along as if it were a mere toy. Now that she was able to focus on him, the Empress noticed that with much effort she had witnessed, it appeared that he had barely broken a sweat. Unblemished except for the blood and infected bits on his hands, nothing had touched him.

Then Miranda found her own curiosity getting the better of her as she strained her neck to get a better look as to what happened next. It reminded her of when the mob of infected had been pummeling her, the suit that she still wore, protecting her enough against their hungry mouths and desperate claws. Something had knocked them off of her, something within. It felt that what this man had done to push the infected away was similar.

The slam of the door crashing down and blocking any further attempt of the infected from attacking them startled Miranda into the present. Their savior was already crouched near them, the infected that had been left already killed - a pool of blood circling its head from the attack.

Mira was still too scared and clung at Miranda to say anything, despite the screams of the infected and the sounds of death now faded. Her overactive mind could fill in the gaps despite not having witnessing the actual acts of battle.

Miranda on the other hand and stared into the gold eyes of the one she had sworn loyalty to as her mentor. A mixture of emotions, she didn't know what to feel right now. She felt numb.

"Yes." Her answer was dulled by the shock of the situation. "I'm alright." She took a shaky breath and unblinking eyes couldn't tear themselves away to look down at the child in her arms. "We're alright."

[Tear]

“Good.”

His tone had changed. The concern in his voice had wilted away beneath a snap of cold indifference. The sudden twist in the man’s demeanour caused Miranda to lift her head. Her stomach twisted and instinctively she knew the danger had not yet past.

The child wailed as she was suddenly wrenched from Miranda’s comforting embrace. Bloody fingers stretched to retrieve her charge but curled in pain as she felt a heavy hand pull her up from the floor by her hair. The child was dropped but the Empress still hung suspended from the steeled grip.

“You have one final test to pass, Miranda.” The man’s hand unclenched and Miranda felt her feet touch the deck once more. Weak knees buckled but the Empress found purchase on a nearby console to avert her weight.

The child was sobbing and on tiny hands and knees she crawled into a corner away from the pair.

This man, who only moments ago had been their savior, had quickly become a predator. He circled in silent judgement. Slowing as he came across the sight of Miranda’s shrapnel peppered back.

“Your past can serve to define you.” Tear reached out and plucked a steel barb from the bloodied tapestry of the Empress’s back. She winced suitably in response. “Or cripple you.”

This was her trial. A test of her worthiness to become his apprentice. Surely that was becoming clear to her now. Miranda had pushed her body beyond what she believed capable. She displayed a cunning creativity in escaping the hordes attempting to chase her down. The child in her arms drew on her passion and invoked a well of power that bubbled from within. But most importantly she maintained the will to survive his cruel gauntlet. The Empress had proven herself in nearly every aspect.

The man turned, tracing a finger tip along the dash of the console Miranda clung against. It’s surface was shattered, spewing forth wires and cabling like guts. On the ground were the remains of it’s face. Shards of broken glass in various shapes and sizes. Crouching low the man selected one. The jagged piece glinted as he rolled it over in his palm, inspecting it.

He offered the Empress the shard of glass. It’s surface had become streaked red from the blood on the man’s hands yet somehow it still glittered catching what little light existed in the dark room.

“Kill the child.”