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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
 
 
 

Bara Nocta - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Protege moi
Last updated: 07/30/2007 11:36:51 AM

Chapter 8

Reia jumped out of her chair, startled by the alert from her communications console.

She slowly brought her train of thought back to the present as she moved towards her communications console. The night really had been full of such fantastic revelations, especially now with a new world being brought into the Empire. Her roommateís home world! And her roommate - a spy! From the Majestrix herself!

Despite Remyís assurances, however, Reiaís best friend had her reservations. And as much as LaiíNal had to agree with the points Reia raised, there had been some definite unease towards the Terran that seemed to pour out of Laiís countenance all night long. The way she had questioned Remy had been like an interrogation of sorts! Reia honestly didnít know what to think.

Remy had been honest with her and LaiíNal, or at least Reia believed he had been honest. LaiíNal had been very persistent in voicing the fact that she, for one, wasnít going to trust anything from the mouth of a spy, sent by the Majestrix or not! Her point, however paranoid it might be, was a valid one. He could have just been feeding them a load of crock, feigning truth, all in the name of fabricating his cover.

Reia sighed as she opened her end of the transmission to accept the call. As much as she couldnít ignore her friendís concerns, she liked the guy. He definitely was nice to look at, Shiíar or not. But besides that, he had a generally amiable something about him. She couldnít quite put her finger on it.

"Yes, hello?" It was time to find out who would be calling so late.

"Reia," it was Toríkol. "How are you this evening?"

Her heart started the thud loudly in her chest and she desperately hoped that its sound couldnít be heard on the other end of the transmission. She sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that this was an audio transmission, only. Reia had never been good at hiding her body language. She was fairly certain she knew why he was calling.

"Oh, Iím alright, thanks, Toríkol," Reia tried to sound like her normal cheery self without over doing it. "How have you been? You havenít called in to check on me in a while." She figured sheíd make conversation. Perhaps her voice wouldnít betray her unease that way.

"I know." There was no apology and Reia didnít expect one from a man like him. "Daiímon tells me you found a new roommate."

Heís fishing, she thought to herself. Play it smart, Rei. Donít get yourself into trouble with him.

She bit her lip and her heart took up a faster tempo. "You know how I hate Daiímon lingering around," she pleaded. Reia tried to sound disappointed and frustrated. It wasnít hard given the history she had with this particular goon. That and she could use it to try and misdirect him.

Maybe. But his like for your innocence will only get you so far...

"Iíve put him in charge of the surveillance of your apartment complex."

"Oh..." Toríkol didnít sound like he was in a good mood. Tonight would not be a good night to test his...soft side. But it didnít change the fact that she was uncomfortable with Daiímon being around.

Originally, Toríkol had ípromisedí to keep Daiímon away from her. He had not been impressed to learn that she had a stalker all because the first date hadnít worked out.

"He just gives me the creeps, is all," she said, meekly. Reia knew sheíd be testing the waters too much if she protested any further.

"It is necessary, young lady." The words were stated simply. "...especially since you have decided to keep an alien for a roommate."

Why did all the scary men have to be so...insensitive? She didnít like this arrangement one bit, but unless Daiímon did something to screw up, sheíd have to put up and shut up.

Obviously reading Reiaís resignation, Toríkol continued. "So, tell me about this Terran."

Shit! Is he onto Remy? What do I say? "Well, he is rather handsome..." She let her voice trail off dreamily. Wrong move, Reia. Supid move. Heís going to filet, you, too, if youíre not careful.

She heard Toríkol cluck his tongue on the other end. "He isnít even Shiíar, Reia."

"Oh, I know, but that doesnít mean a girl canít appreciate beauty when she sees it." Would you like a shovel to dig that hole a little deeper, girl?

"Has he mentioned what his purpose here is, exactly?"

Okay, calm down, Reia, calm down. You can answer this one, no problems. "Honestly, I donít even think he knows." It wasnít far from the truth. Actually, his answer had been rather vague when sheíd asked him, even though heíd been forced to elaborate, tonight.

"Do you know how long he is intending to stay in my domain?"

"No," she sighed, sobering up. "I asked him that earlier on today, but he said he didnít know." At least honesty wasnít shedding any important information.

"I see." Reia could envision his fingers curled around his chin. "Chandilar made First Contact with his home world, today. Are you aware of this Reia?"

"Yes. We saw the news broadcast."

"I thought you did not own a media screen."

There was no harm in telling him it was Remyís new purchase. Besides, this was a test. She knew Toríkol already knew, but wanted to gauge just how much Reia was going to hide from him. She also knew that should Toríkol discover she was hiding information from him, she could kiss whatever affection the man had for her goodbye.

"No, itís not mine." She shook her head, forgetting there was no visual. "Remy came by the store today and picked one up."

"Tell me, how did a man whoís just arrived to this kind of area have that much money to spend?"

"I donít know, he hasnít said anything, and I didnít ask."

"You should have. You should know who is living with you, what he is about, if he is a danger to you, or not."

"I know. I was brash."

"And because you were, I had no choice but to send my men in."

Asshole! She remained silent. Cool it, girl, or youíre going to get yourself in trouble.

"What is the Terran doing now?"

"Heís sleeping."

"How convenient."

"I think heís space lagged."

"Very well, we will continue this conversation another time."

Reia knew it was pointless to even say goodbye. The click on the other end came faster than sheíd have been able to utter any sound.

Great. Just great.

Light shone through the slits in the blinds again as Remy opened his eyes. A sense of déjà-vu seemed to settle over him. This was exactly what heíd woken up to yesterday. He grinned slightly. Yesterday wasnít a bad day, but he was acutely aware of how sore yesterdayís information gathering stint had made him. Remy groaned and rolled onto his side.

He could afford to snooze. Plus, yí be recuperating, homme. Today was definitely a day for relaxing. Lilandraís information gathering could wait, and perhaps a day of lying low would do well for him. But on the other hand, with First Contact, not showing his face might make it look like he was hiding.

Why yí got tí tíink so much, hein? Remy let out a small sigh of frustration. He was awake, now.

Merde, getting out oí bed be jusí as hard as yesterday. Dismayed, he went over to his belongings, which he had yet to unpack fully, in search of more pain killers. He frowned, noting only a handful of pills at the bottom of the bottle. He was going to run out far too soon.

Heedless of the prescription dilemma, Remy dry swallowed two Tylenol 3ís and marched off to the shower. Perhaps some steam would help soothe his muscles while the Codeine took its time to kick in. Not that he enjoyed the fatigue and grogginess that accompanied a codeine high, but right now, all he was after was pain relief. Besides, being drugged didnít matter much as he fully intended to go back to bed and rest for the remainder of the day. But frustration seemed to abound. Dis not yí day, LeBeau.

He found himself looking at what he thought was a faucet and realized he had absolutely no clue as to how to turn it on. Trying desperately to remember the last time he took a shower on Chandilar, Remy examined the device a little more. No, this did not resemble anything heíd seen before.

Trial by fire. Shaking his head, he fiddled with the unit until water started running, and steam vapors could be seen forming. Grâce à dieu!

The water felt good as it ran over his body, the warmth hugging his muscles. Remy wanted to stand under that showerhead forever, but he didnít know what the cost of water was here so he figured heíd better cut it short and use just enough to get clean. He just had to ignore his muscles screaming at him for more when he turned off the water and reached for his towel.

Remy started to dry himself off when something not quite right caught him off guard. Silently, he wrapped his towel around his waist and stood as still as he could. A shadow crossed the gap at the bottom of the door. It moved quickly and silently.

Why hadnít he noticed the movement? Remy pushed his powers outward, trying to sense what was out there. His mind screamed at him, as he pushed through the fog from the codeine that was starting to hit him.

There were three men outside the bathroom, waiting. Their stances were ready for action, but Remy couldnít tell if they were armed or not. They had also stopped moving, which did not help matters, any.

Remy sighed. There was no window in the bathroom. No duct. Just the door. He was effectively trapped. Sighing, Remy looked down at the towel covering the lower half of his body, considering his options.

Yí better know what yí doiní. He took one last glance in the mirror before opening the door.

"Hold your hands where we can see them, Terran!"

Remy could hear the whine of energy weapons powering up. Deciding that these men were not here for a friendly heart to heart, he complied, raising his hands up.

"You tíink yí could let a man get dressed?"

"Oh look, a wise guy." one goon commented to the other two.

"Alright, then, move it," another said, motioning for Remy to start walking. As he complied he shoved the muzzle of his weapon in the small of Remyís back.

Dis really ainít yí day. Groggily, the usually graceful thief made an effort to put one assured foot in front of the other. The painkillers were really starting to kick in now, not aided by his bodyís physical fatigue.

"Hurry up." The goon followed Remy into the room. Apparently, he would not be given the decency of dressing in privacy. He didnít complain, however. Instead, he grabbed his clothes and turned his back towards the accompanying guard. Every nerve in his body screamed at him, urging him to sit down on the bed while doing this, but he didnít want to show any weakness.

"Youíre done." It was more like a command than an observation, so Remy started to move toward the door.

He didnít quite make it to the threshold when the two other men entered. The butt of an energy rifle made contact with Remyís gut.

"Ungh." Remyís torso burned with pain and he hunched over a bit, but he was able to stay on his feet.

Either I be gettingí slow, or dese hommes be fast.

Before he could regain his composure, the rifle hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, effectively knocking him too the ground.

"Get up," one spat. "Toríkol does not like to be kept waiting."

Rather than letting Remy get up on his own accord, two strong arms grabbed him under the armpits hauling him to his feet, while the third goon bound his hands behind him and covered his head with a cloth bag. The smell of mothballs assaulted his senses and Remy made a face, disgusted. The pain in his gut combined with the smell was making him incredibly nauseous.

Oh, címon, knock me out! You know you waní to, he pleaded silently. His injuries were now pounding from the assault, causing him to see stars. Trying to walk was now an incredibly difficult feat. Mebe yí should jusí pass out, LeBeau.

As if God was listening, Remyís world went blank.

"Good, youíre awake."

Iím really beginniní tí hate wakiní up.

At least de drugís ainí out oí yí system, yet. Yí havenít been out dat long. He tried to clear his head from the codeine heíd ingested earlier. Remy needed to figure out a way to manipulate the situation to his favour.

However, that was probably not going to be an easy feat. Remy was securely fastened to a plain metal chair. His hands were in manacles behind his back, and there was some sort of collar fastened to his neck, attached to a chain leading to somewhere. He could still move his head and his upper body, at least. His legs were bound together and he could feel sturdy restraints across much of his lap. He wasnít going anywhere.

Yí powers are still active... But Remy quickly tucked away thoughts of using his powers. They would cause destruction to this room. Given the way he was bound, he might also harm himself.

Studying his surroundings, Remy found himself in a rather barren, gray room. He noted the floor to be concrete. The whole foundation was probably constructed of concrete. The walls had been panelled with a metal he did not recognize. To the right of him there was an ordinary table with two just as ordinary chairs. A goon stood behind the table, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. To his left - nothing. No windows, no ventilation ducts that he could see. There was no escape route, save for the door directly ahead of him, but that passage was blocked by the same gauntly framed man heíd seen in the restaurant his first day on Chandilar. The man, Remy remarked, dressed impeccably. He sipped some sort of beverage, as if he were in some sort of civilized parlour gathering between wealthy gentlemen.

All he needs now is a cigar.

The other manís gaze locked onto Remyís figure. His composure spoke of authority, and Remy was now certain that this was the Moratílan leader, Toríkol.

"Let me make one thing clear, Terran. I do not tolerate games. You can make this as painful or as painless as you want it to be." Toríkol stripped off his jacket, handed it to the goon near the table, and proceeded to roll up his sleeves.

The other manís words rang as if theyíd been said through a megaphone right by his ear. Oh great, yí got a headache now, too. However, Remy knew it was probably just part of the mental congestion the Tylenol 3ís were providing. Dis goní be fun.

Remy decided to nod, once.

"Who are you?" The question was simple enough.

"Nameís Remy."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I íave a fair idea."

"Do you, now?"

But Remy decided not to dignify him with a response.

"Why are you in my domain?"

"I íavenít really figured dat out yet." His answer earned Remy a slap across the face.

Merde.

"Iíll ask you one more time, why are you here?"

"It seemed like a good idea at de time. Now, Iím not so sure." This time, Remy felt Toríkolís fist meet his gut. Remyís previous injuries screamed with pain. He hunched over in an effort to lessen the growing discomfort in his midsection. There was the distinct taste of bile in his mouth. The response, he feared was more than it should have been. Would it give away a weakness? Remy was sure Toríkol noticed, but the Shiíar made no indication that he had.

"You think youíre funny?"

"Non." He was barely able to force enough air out of his lungs to give sound to the word.

But, before Toríkol could continue with his íquestioning,í he was distracted by the man who had been standing by the table. But the goon was making his way towards Toríkol, touching his ear and nodding. Remy assumed he was using some sort of communications system. He silently cursed himself, as he had completely forgotten the man was there.

"My Lord, General Arkaan is here to see you."

There was an undoubtedly annoyed look on Toríkolís face. "Very well, you may tell the General that I will be there in a few moments."

"Yes, My Lord." The goon paused, perhaps deciding if it was wise to say anything more, but in the end, he opened his mouth again. "However, I did not get the impression he is willing to wait."

Toríkol moved away from Remy, and smoothed out the crinkles in his sleeves formed during his questioning. He reached out an expectant hand and the goon placed his jacket in it. Instead of donning it, he simply draped it over his arm. Then Toríkol rotated his neck eliciting three loud cracks. The sound made Remy cringe.

The door opened to reveal a formidable looking Shiíar standing on the other side of the threshold. It was obviously the General; Remy could tell by his dress and military paraphernalia. A wave of panic overcame Remy when the Arkaanís eyes settled upon him and narrowed.

I know dat face...but from where?

However, Toríkol closed the door behind him, and Remy was unable to study the other figure further. Instead, Remy closed his eyes and tried to listen to the conversation going on outside the room.

Must be soundproof.

His mind raced with all sorts of possibilities, the foremost being that his cover was probably about to be blown. If he recognized the General, chances were, Arkaan recognized him. But what was Arkaan doing here? And why was he associating with Toríkol? Surely he didnít have any authority here; this was Toríkolís territory where the military feared to tread.

Wait, Toríkol complied with Arkaanís summons...

Remy closed his eyes again, wincing. He couldnít seem to focus enough to put any sort of coherent theory together. The pain in his torso was making him nauseas, and the Tylenol 3 now seemed completely inadequate for pain control, though the codeine buzz was ever present. Unconsciousness seemed to tug at him, urging him to slip into the painless black, again.

Ungh.

Toríkol slapped Remy across the face with the back of his hand, forcing Remy to arch his neck back. Now his head and his gut were throbbing, and the world seemed as if it were floating. Then, Toríkol grabbed a handful of his shirt to pull Remy close to him, jolting Remy into alertness. Toríkolís face was so close that Remy could feel the heat of Toríkolís breath. He fought desperately not to turn his head away.

"One more time, tell me what youíre doing in my domain, X-Man!" The words were laced with vehemence, but Toríkolís voice was not raised.

A hard knot formed in Remyís stomach. X-Man? Le bon Dieu, aidez-moi!

"Mí not an X-Man."

Again, Toríkol struck Remyís midsection.

Fils de poutin!

The impact forced the air from Remyís diaphragm and he desperately wish he could curl into a ball. He succumbed to a fit of coughing in efforts to get his breath back.

Toríkol was right in Remyís face again, re-establishing his hold on Remyís shirt. "I have it on good authority you are."

"Was. íM not, anymore," he choked out.

"Was?" The answer had obviously taken Toríkol offguard, as the grip on Remyís shirt lessened a little and Toríkol put a little distance between them. Perhaps he had expected Remy to deny it outright.

"What do you mean íwas?í"

Wish I knew! But he was improvising, and improvisation said to fall back on old roots.

He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible with his wrist bound behind him. "Turned out Iím not X-Men material, is all."

"Do not sass me, Terran." It was a warning, but Toríkolís body language told Remy that he had his attention as he fully released his hold on Remyís shirt.

"Look, de X-Men is full of idealistic law abiding crime fighters. Dey have dis delusion dat their ethics are de only way. I didnít exactly fit in. It got me notíiní but heat from most oí dem, so I split. Was tired oí beiní treated like shit."

"And just why, exactly, did you not fit in?"

Aha, I got him. "Dey donít approve oí my profession."

"Donít dance around the point."

Remy sighed. "Iím a professional thief. They didnít like dat I wouldnít give it up tí be and X-Man." He tried to feign a scoff. "Donít think dey miss me much."

"Why did you come here?"

"Why not?"

"Youíre walking a thin line..." Remy could see him bringing his arm back, getting ready to strike.

However, Remy couldnít help but grin. Heíd gotten under this manís skin and for whatever reason he found satisfaction in it.

"Iím serious. Why not? Itís a new start in a new place where no one knows me."

"Thereís a Northern Hemisphere which you will find much more comfortable." Toríkol relaxed his arm.

Remy frowned, giving Toríkol a tired look. "Iím on de outs wití de X-Men. De X-Men are Chandilarís allies, not me." He shook his head. "Donít know dat I would be welcome up dere."

Toríkol raised a speculative brow at Remy. "You expect me to believe this from a man who buried our dead?"

Merde! Datís where I know dat man from! The realisation hit Remy in a flood. The night after their victory over the Phalanx, when everyone else was celebrating, it was General Arkaan who had found Remy burying the Shiíar dead. Toríkol had effectively taken back the upper hand. Dis goní get hairy unless youíre williní tí open up, LeBeau.

"I made some mistakes a while back," he admitted. "I thought it might serve as some sort oí penance."

"And...?"

He turned his head away. "I was wrong."

It was obvious that Toríkol wasnít quite sure of what to do with this revelation. He stood back and ruffled a hand through his feathers, giving Remy an appraising look. As if remembering he had a drink started, Toríkol sought it out and took the last swigs of it in one gulp.

After several long moments of silence, Toríkol finally spoke.

"It seems, Terran, there is more to you than I thought."

What de hell is dat supposed tí mean? But Remy didnít voice that thought.

"A thief, you say?"

Remy simply nodded his head. He was out of energy and didnít feel like talking unless he had to.

"How familiar are you with Shiíar security systems?"

"Fairly..." Remy raised his head slightly to look up at the man. "Why?"

Toríkol moved behind Remyís chair and began to release Remy from his binds. "I am in need of a thief."

Remyís curiosity was piqued. And as exhausted as his body was, he couldnít help but give a devilish grin.

"Yí donít say."

 

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