Discovery Gaming Community

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This story is the continuation of "Get Me out of Here", but was written to remain somewhat self-sufficient. If you haven't read "Get Me out of Here" yet, you may run across some spoilers below this preface. You have been warned.

An Outcast who goes by the name Kyle Cross disappears while searching for Kiara Garlow, his girlfriend who was captured by a Gallic Brigand. Apparently, Kiara's friends from the Forlorn Hope had their own plan to rescue the hostage. But one day Elena Voigt, the one who told Kyle about Kiara's predicament, receives Kyle's message from Gallia.

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Kyle 'Outcast' Cross
Unknown location

"Rise and shine!", a Brigand slightly kicked a prisoner who was sleeping in an embryo's pose on the floor. "It's your lucky day. The boss decided we don't need your sorry rear around here anymore." On hearing that, Kyle opened his eyes and found himself in the same place where he spent the last week: the same dim light, 4 metallic walls, a slab, a toilet bowl, and a sliding door with a window with bars. It took him a while to return to the real world from dream he just had.

In that dream Kyle almost rescued his girlfriend Kiara from Remy Moreau, a Gallic Brigand who had kidnapped her. In reality, however, things were much more complicated: Kiara was apparently staying with Remy of her free will, even calling herself Aurora Moreau, his wife. Kyle couldn't figure out if it had actually been the case, or if Kiara had just been manipulated into all of this: Remy had him knocked out and locked up before Kyle could do anything. And why would the Brigand let him go all of a sudden? Unless the rumors Kyle heard from the guards were true, and Remy had actually disappeared in the Taus... Another kick stopped Kyle's train of thought.

"Hurry up, junkie, I don't have all day!" The kick made Kyle turn on his back, but he couldn't yet stand up, so he crawled towards the nearby wall and leaned against it, still sitting on the floor. The last week had an effect on the prisoner's looks: he had no chance to wash or shave, and his face looked pale, with cold sweat on his forehead. His black leather jacket, dark jeans, and orange T-shirt looked more worn off than before.

Kyle had to be grateful that the Brigands at least fed him and gave him token amounts of expensive Cardamine: enough to keep him alive, but not enough to prevent the nasty side effects of withdrawal, like cold sweat and hoarse breathing. Looking at the prisoner, the Brigand took something out of his pocket and threw it to Kyle. "Here's your Cardi, but don't expect to get any more. We're done spending money on you."

As the prisoner caught his precious inhaler with a greedy motion, the Brigand just looked at him with contempt. "Right now the boss doesn't care about you, but if you get any funny ideas, next time you'll be walking out the airlock, and not out of your cell." By that time Kyle had already hidden the inhaler in his pocket, and his breathing and looks were slowly returning to normal. "I got it," the prisoner croaked.

He attempted to stand up, and he managed it this time, although it was still hard. With a stoop, he walked out of the cell into the corridor outside, taking one more glance at his jailer, as if wondering if it all had been a joke. But the Brigand didn't care, he only followed Kyle and closed the cell door.

Kyle walked down the corridor towards the exit, finding himself in a large hall, that could be considered a "square" or the "great hall" of the station. There were people walking around, indifferent to an apparent hobo who had just walked out of detention area. Kyle turned around to his jailor: "Mind telling me where we are, and where I can make a call?" The Brigand smirked: "You're on Boulogne base in Picardy system. I bet you can find a terminal somewhere on the station. And take a shower while you're at it, you stink like a pig!" With that the Brigand closed the door, leaving Kyle on the "square".

As a newly-released prisoner looked around, he wondered what he should do now. His PDA had been taken from him, and asking the jailer where it was would be asking for trouble or even murder. Kyle didn't have money to get back to the Monte Carlo Freeport and his ship. And there was only one person going around Gallia and Brigand bases freely, who could help him: his former girlfriend Kiara Garlow, or Aurora Moreau, as she was known here. Intent on finding a way to contact her, Kyle started limping around the unknown base, looking for a terminal...

The apartment of Remy Moreau on Boulogne

Aurora Moreau wasn't doing much at the moment. The message that had been sent to her, and her snappy reply to it had given her alot to think about, so she had retreated into her, albeit unusually empty, but still cozy bedroom. Feeling unusually cold, despite the temperature being the same as it always was on the station, she had wrapped herself in a blanket and was staring at the ceiling, deep in thought.

At that moment her solitude was interrupted by a sound she had barely ever actually heard: the doorbell. Pulled from her dark thoughts, and even somewhat happy about the distraction, she threw the blanket off herself and got up. She wasn't really prepared to receive anyone, wearing a pink pajama, but at that moment she didn't really give it any thought.

She rushed out of the bedroom, through the corridor, into the living room. There, she stopped in front of the apartment door. At least she had showered earlier, so she was in a somewhat presentable state, despite her clothes. Trying to get as much out of this distraction as possible, she put a happy smile onto her face, although it could not hide the bags under her eyes that bespoke of a distinct lack of sleep. She grabbed the door handle and pulled the door inwards, presenting herself like this to whoever might be in front of the door.

The guest Aurora received was probably the one she least expected: the very same man whom she and her husband had met a week or two ago on Monte Carlo. Back then he had been drunk, an now he seemed even worse: his face was slightly pale, the clean shave was long gone, and his hair were unkempt. He looked (and smelled) as if he hadn't showered ever since Aurora had last seen him. The man also wore the very same clothes: a black leather jacket, an orange T-shirt, dark jeans, black boots. The clothes seemed to have gone through just as much as Aurora's uninvited guest himself.

What's worse, Kyle (and that was him, naturally) stepped in with one foot, moving at least half of his torso into the doorway. After the last message he had received from Kiara he expected her to just shut the door in front of him, so he decided to at least try and get his point across before she'd have that chance. Still, Kyle didn't want to be too obtrusive either, so he raised his right hand in a gesture that'd say "I'm not going to do you any harm, but please, listen to me!" He stood as is, not going any further, trying to speak as calmly as he could, so as not to frighten Kiara any more.

As soon as the door was open the smile disappeared as quickly from Aurora's face as it had appeared there. She indeed she tried to quickly slam the door shut again. This sadly failed, as he had obviously anticipated her move. Now actually afraid, she let go of the door as soon as she was sure she had no chance of closing it against his will, and stumbled backwards, fear clearly on her face.

The intruder was the one to start talking: "I know you didn't want to meet me, but please, listen to me for once. I'm stuck on this station, and I only have a day or so left, if you don't help me." He looked at Aurora with a mixture of apology, sadness, and a slight bit of hope in his expression.

"Not again!" she yelled at him and stumbled backwards, her eyes locked on every move he did. She retreated from the door into the large, open living room. To her right, from his perspective, she passed by a kitchen counter. Her hand was clearly looking for something, going over the various equipment on the counter, but didn't find anything she wanted. She didn't dare take her eyes off him, and just kept retreating, too scared to even listen to what he was saying.

Soon she had reached the end of the counter, so she quickly walked around it, so it was between her and the man forcing his way into the apartment. "What do you want?!" she asked, certainly more afraid than the situation justified: "I won't go with you again! Not this time! Leave me alone!"

Although Kyle was prepared for a surprised Kiara, he didn't expect to find her that scared. He lowered his head for a couple of moments, hoping that it'd be enough for the young woman to calm down a little, before raising his head again, a faint friendly smile on his lips. "I need your help, Ki... Aurora," he sighed as he had to call her by that name, but it seemed the best idea at the moment. "Sorry for this performance, but I was afraid you'd shut the door in front of me and wouldn't let me say a word." He still remained standing in the doorway, not going further. "Please, may I at least come in, or should I stay that way?"

Aurora blinked a few times, and then discarded at least some parts of her defensive stance. "Oh... it's you. I told you I didn't want to meet you! You can't just come here! Especially... looking like that!" she stated, finally taking her eyes off him to look around in the kitchen, but only briefly before she focused on him again. "What the hell do you want, apart from getting me into trouble?" She started to slowly make her way further into the kitchen, trying not to make it appear too suspicious.

Kyle shrugged, as he thought he could just tell the truth now. "Those thugs of your husband's didn't give me any choice." He then quickly added another remark, sticking to his plan: "And before you can discard it as a lie, you can go ask whoever is monitoring the prison cells right now. I bet they'd tell you I've been around here for a week, only released today for whatever reason." He realized that his reply sounded somewhat aggressive, despite his calm voice. "I really have nobody else in Gallia to go to, Aurora. I'm stuck on a station where I don't know anyone but you," he continued in a somewhat apologetic manner.

"Look..." Kyle continued calmly, going for his last gambit. "The last time we talked you seemed eager to remember what you were doing in Sirius. If that hasn't changed, then I can still help you, with proof this time. You wouldn't even have to leave this station." He looked outside the room briefly, hoping there'd be no bystanders who might have been observing the whole thing. He then sighed and continued: "If you tell me to go away now, I'll do it. But don't be surprised if you'll find my starved corpse by your doorstep tomorrow."

Aurora shook her head in disbelief. How could he keep on trying to lie to her, in such an obvious way? "Just stop it, I'm sick of your lies!" she said to him angrily, closing in to a set of large knifes placed in the kitchen on a counter. "I want to remember, but not like this. I told you, we have to wait for my husband," she continued, before her eyes briefly went to the knifes, then back to the intruder. "How can anyone be so jealous?! You're being ridiculous."

Now it was Kyle's turn to shake his head: "It's you who are being ridiculous. You aren't even listening to what I'm saying, are you?" He lowered his head; the plan wasn't proceeding nearly as good as he'd imagine. If anything, it only made him feel worse than the time when Kiara had kissed that old geezer in front of him. And yet she was the one to say something of jealousy and lies?! Kyle was about to snap.

A part of him wanted to tell Kiara everything bad that he had thought about her current attitude. That desire was spiced up by the multiple mentions of her current 'husband' (whom Kyle brought up himself). As Kyle thought how satisfying it would be to tell Kiara that she was nothing like the person he had known, it wouldn't end well. She'd probably tell him to get lost, and he'd do just that out of spite. Then he'd lose his only potential ally on this forsaken station, and he'd have nothing at all. That, and Kyle still cared about Kiara, despite the fact she might have been a different person by now. Or was it just a memory of Kiara now?

Nevertheless, he chose to try and restrain himself from saying anything rash. He just stood there, waiting for Kiara to reply to his comment about not hearing what he was actually telling.

"It's not me who's being ridiculous! Why would I listen to your lies?" Aurora asked, an undertone of fear still hearable, even through her anger. "He's all I have! The only thing between me and nothingness. Stop trying to destroy my life!" She glanced at the knifes again, but stopped moving towards them for now, being close enough that they gave her some reassurance he couldn't just overpower her like that. That speech sounded so dramatic and wrong that Kyle shook his head, realizing how messed up Kiara's mind was. Aurora Moreau may only have her husband, but Kiara Garlow had at least a few other people who cared about her. Kyle decided not to voice that for now.

The woman breathed slowly for a few seconds to calm down, before asking: "So what did actually happen to you? You look horrible." Seeing that a somewhat civil and less emotional conversation was about to start, Kyle made use of it: "You mind if I actually come in? I'll stand by the entrance if it makes you feel better. Then I'll explain everything, with proof if need be. But it really feels weird talking to you through a half-open door."

Aurora seemed to struggle with herself for a few seconds, but finally nodded, and she did not look comfortable, but at least keeping herself under control sternly. "O-Okay... You will take a shower, not to keep looking like that... And then we'll head to a public place to talk," the way she said this made clear that none of that was open for discussion.

Kyle nodded with a faint smile, entering the room and closing the door behind him, but still not walking in farther than he had to, so as not to frighten Kiara again. "To be honest, I was kind of wondering how I'd ask you about letting me use a shower among other things. But well, that solved itself. And I'm ok with those conditions. So..." he looked around the room with a questioning expression. "Can I just get to it?"

Aurora just pointed to the corridor leading out of the living room. "There... the door to the right", she stated and gulped, not sure if this was a good idea. "I'll wait over here, don't you dare get any ideas..." She did not move from her position in the kitchen. Kyle decided to cut this part short, hoping that a few minutes she'd spend away from him would make her calm down even more. That's why Kyle's reply was short: "Got it." He turned around and locked the entry door before walking down the corridor Kiara had pointed him at. Finally, a shower after a long couple of weeks... Maybe there was something of Kiara left in this 'Aurora' after all.

Forlorn Hope Rescue Team:
Knight Captain Elena Voigt
Knight Mason Coleman
Knight Sarah Leroux
On board their Trojan Horse

Only the sound of clattering engine noises was audible inside the ship, in full blast that could have shattered ears easily. The metal walls, in their obsessive Gray and drabness, vibrated and oscillated rapidly, and every now and then a major jolt rocked the entire ship and its crew. Loose instruments rolled over the floor, creating another fraught noise, sounding as though a child gave drumming a burst for the first time. The chaotic rhythm it produced, together with the fulminant clang of the walls, chimed in with the whooshing engine sounds. It was no question of melodiousness though. Almost the entire cargo hold was dipped in all-embracing darkness, only a dimmed lighting at the ceiling, guttering inconsistently like a dying flame, shed light on the ambiance. Just another sign of the sordid state of the ship. It had something in common with an occult ritual, or at least the spare illumination made such an impression. An evocation of evil spirits. Only sporadically the light decided to dance over or along the figures, otherwise they would have remained unnoticed in the dark for sure. The air was free of any kind of odor, weirdly. It anything, the smell of metal might was distinguishable, but that was about it.

Short of the recognisably noisy backdrop, there was a heavy silence among the people in the room, two in number. Sitting opposite to each other, none of them was bent on breaking the deathlike hush. Instead, they left it at perking up their ears and observe the wildly chaotic rhythms of flying stuff inside the cargo hold. Their lack of words was akin to the privateness during funerals, only that today they didn’t have anyone to bury. At least not yet. Depression and uncertainty hovered in the air, but nobody dared to change it. Instead, they let the uneasy feeling lull them into immersion in their thoughts, turning the plan over in their mind time after time.

Elena’s heart had been beating like crazy for a while now, ever since she had stepped into this particular Eagle. Proving to be difficult to sit still, she would have loved to walk around, to get into motion. Yet she kept restraining herself, and instead had sat down near one of the metal walls, her knees drawn up in huddled fashion. She tried her luck at some breathing techniques – inhaling deeply through her mouth, holding her breath for a few seconds, then releasing the air through the nose again -, but to no avail. Her pulse couldn’t be lowered, apparently. The broken lights she cursed to herself, as the thick darkness comfitted her a great deal. It made her paw at the brown leather jacket she wore, checking for the gun hidden underneath her clothes. A minor sigh of relieved slipped her mouth as she could feel its contours. Burying her head in between her knees, she began to fiddle around with her hair, then held a single strand of her hair in place and moved it in front of her eyes. Though light was a luxury in there, Elena could still see enough to shock herself again; she could not help doing it. The sight catapulted her in an even more torn state of mind, visible through her grimace. Quickly she put the hood back over her head. Somehow, it felt as though she had got rid of some part of herself when she had decided she would have to get rid of anything prominent about her. There it was, the brown tone of her hair, seeing the light - of a defect neon lamp, that was – for the first time since years. She already began missing the blue after a few mere hours. It made her feel like a completely different person altogether, even worse than the one she thought she had become by now.

Elena sighed and shook her head while rubbing her forehead. As she examined the case more carefully, she only then realized how forlorn this whole plan of theirs was. It might as well resembled true suicidal tendencies, but she had come to a point where it didn’t mean all too much for her anymore. She had grown more and more desperate over the last weeks, perhaps this was her way of expressing it. She had watched her life go south in every possible sense of the word, which had driven her to do this. To infiltrate a hostile base full of homicidal pirates in order to rescue her missing once best friend. There was no profit or gain to be found this time, it was merely and solely about her deep desire to set the mess she had caused straight again. Yet no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t for the life of hers concentrate rightly. Saying she was not in her right senses could be called an elusive euphemism. If she was champion at one thing, then it was giving herself an enormously hard time. Various insecurities, coupled with self-hate and nervousness were in no way qualifying her to be on this mission, which would possibly demand a strong mind in a possibly hazardous situation. Something she was not in possession of anymore. None of this she wanted to acknowledge to herself, though. In lieu, she had got completely embroiled in making up for her misssteps towards Kiara, and would not crawfish out of this until she was either dead or successful. Frantic stubbornness probably was the best way to describe her reasoning to go on this mission.

She raised her head slightly to look asquint at her company, who sat right in front of her, dead silent. He seemed lost in thoughts just as much, he mostly just stared at the ceiling and kept his eyes closed Seeing that she was not all on her own placated her, if only a little, even if the atmosphere was not the most pleasant imaginable. A small smile played around her lips as she eyed Mason, but then lowered her head again. He had seemed somewhat irresolute about the whole Kiara story, and to Elena he had appeared to really believe in Kiara’s dual nature. Elena on the other could not. She had spent too much time with her friend, had shared too many unique events with her, that she was profoundly convinced there had to be more to the story than met the eye.

It had been a mere bonanza that they had managed to salvage an almost fully intact transponder originating from a Brigand vessel in Tau-23, yet a bonanza they had made sure to put to good use. Installed on a randomly bought Eagle – which had proven to be a bit too careless, given its current state -, it would make for a perfect chicanery. An illustrious example of a costume with which you could join the masquerade ball. To make the masquerade ideal however, they had needed an indigene, someone who could speak the Gallic language fluently – in case of problems arising – and they were foreseen to arise. A solution Elena had found with one of their latest additions to the Forlorn Hope, Sarah Leroux. While not being an honest-to-goshen Gaul, Sarah had been raised in Gallia and had a strong accent, which was virtually everything Elena had been in need of. A Brigand with a remarkably Rheinlandian accent would have been the most preposterous attempt at a deception maneuver since time immemorial. The only key part Sarah would have to play in this was getting Mason and Elena to Boulogne, and getting them out again, with as few incidents as possible in between.

That was the plan. Sounded simple? Only time would tell if it really would be that simple.

Elena felt relieved when the journey finally came to an end for the time being. That meant she could step out of this damn cargo hold again. But it also meant she had arrived at the place that happened to be somewhat angst-inducing for her. Through the door could she hear Sarah brabble some nonsense in Gallic through the intercom. Some seconds passed, then a male voice piped up, slightly distorted, muffledly sounding through the metal wall that separated the cockpit from the cargo hold.

“You are cleared to dock, Madame,” said the man. He sounded a tad dismissive, but only as though he was busy with doing different stuff at the moment.

“Oui, merci beaucoup. On my way,” answered Sarah with a flawless accent.
Inside the cargo hold Elena stretched herself, slowly standing up from her huddled body position. Her body felt far too heavy and dead for her likings, as though resurrecting from rigor mortis. The creaking of some of her joints was well audible. After she had vented a weary sigh, she would stare at Mason for a few seconds, almost absentmindedly. Then, with an expression of slight pain flashing over her face, she would indicate him to get moving as well with a simple motion of her head. “Alright, time has come. Let’s move,” said she hoarsely, immediately clearing her throat afterwards. She hadn’t spoken in a while, as she had preferred to stay silent during the flight, which had made her throat turn quite scratchy. Trying her best at sounding and appearing as cool as a cucumber, she showed a more or less bitter smile passing over her face. Ambiguous it was, as it told multiple things. “That’s gonna be interesting,” it told for once. “For fuck’s sake, why did it have to end this way?” it also did. And last but not least it told “We’re so done…”. Mason would let out a quiet sigh and take a deep breath. "This is going to be fun," meant he rather happily but obviously sarcastically.

With a loud bang, the Eagle touched the ground of Boulogne’s hangar bay. While Elena and Mason were readying themselves for the task that stood before them (which consisted either of trying to calm the hell down or checking their weapons once again), the door to the cockpit went open. Sarah stood in there. She seemed not amused, as her mien hardened. “You’re good to go,” said she and laid one hand on the doorframe. “But I swear, if you fuck this up … I’ll fuck you up twice afterwards.” Mason would just tilt his head slightly, looking over Sarah, a playful smirk on his lips. "We'll see, maybe fucking up is worth it then."

Elena, who had spent the time wandering around the cargo hold aimlessly, spun around. Hand on her temple, where she could feel her rapid pulse, she contemplated the figure in front of her. It rather seemed as though she stared into space though, preoccupied in thought. No eye contact whatsoever. She had so many things to worry about right now, that Sarah’s voice only reached the back of her mind dead-sounding. “We won’t fuck this up,” said Elena, as monotone as a roboter with no emotions clinging by. One quick look at Mason, and he would nod at Sarah in affirming fashion. He had his hands tightly clutching at the gun. “We won’t fuck this up,” he repeated in his typical deep, male voice.

The small hatch of the Eagle’s cargo hold slowly opened. The two fearnaughts unhesitatingly jumped out of the ship and made their way to the hangar’s exit. From behind they could once again hear Sarah’s voice. “Au revoir, and bon courage!” she called and waved for a few seconds before turning around and moving back into the ship. Her first part of the job was done.

Courage and luck is exactly what we could need right now, Elena bethought to herself as she walked right by Mason’s side. A slight sensation of giddiness appeared, probably related to the fact that she had her heart in her mouth at the moment.

Focus, Elena, focus, she thought. Already now she breathed heavily and fitfully. Her own mind was again rankling with her. There was the feeling somebody, or something, was behind her and crept along her path. She didn’t dare to turn her head around to check, hoping that she would be spared the horrible nightmare that would manifest in case she opened herself up for it. However now was the worst point in time to let this happen, and so she did her best in blocking the guilt trip. The mere thought at it certainly spooked her. Withdrawn into herself, she desisted from starting a conversation to make the situation more agreeable, up until the point she realized she had to distract her. So she recited the plan again, silently to herself. It was loud enough for Mason to hear it, though.

“Okay. Find people, ask people stuff. Find out about Remy’s room. Go to Remy’s room, check. Top priority, find Kiara. Rescue her or,” said she in a protocol manner. Having it recited hundreds of times already, she had memorized it by now. At this point however she always stumbled with her word. “Or put a bullet through her head. Second priority, find Cross. Same procedure. Depends on circumstances. Don’t generate buzz. Get the hell out as soon as the priorities are accomplished.” And that was the end of her little poem recite. But it had worked miracles, Elena was distracted, at least for now.

Confused and disorientated as they were on board Bolougne, they confined themselves to following the signboards hung up at crossing corridors. Their man aim were the bars, self-evidently. Somehow they would have to find the location of Remy’s apartment, after all, and asking near one of the terminals was far too suspicious. After all, he had gone missing some time ago, and Mason and Elena were the ones responsible for exactly that. Careful asking-around in the pubs was the name of the game, so to say. As always, those were not hard to find at all, as the corridors were well-signposted, at least for a pirate’s hub.

The bars were crowded. Nothing Elena fancied too much, but it was the perfect condition to lay hands on information. Doffing the hood from her head, she entered the first one, closely followed by Mason. To mingle with the people in the bar, looking from afar like typical cutthroats and murderers, didn’t prove to be difficult, albeit some initial reluctance. Elena wanted to get over with this as quickly as possible, so she submitted to the obligatory “Hi!” and “What’s up?” and “I’ve got a little question, if you don’t mind”. Pecksniffery. She didn’t want to be here, where all the happy people were. While Mason was sitting down at a corner of the bar, obviously scanning the area, searching for any trouble arising, Elena approached the matter differently. Instead, she would go to the counter, ask the bartender, people near the bartender, virtually everybody who seemed to be tipsy. Sugarcoating it a little to not make her questions sound too suspicious.

Nonetheless, they would soon manage to successfully gather the information they were in need of. Drunken men were so reliable sources when it came to provision of information. Maybe not reliable, but at least they were all very open to suspicious questions, different to more austere men. And so they didn’t have any difficulties in finding out about Remy’s erstwhile whereabouts (besides the usual “Yada yada, he’s gone missing, yada yada”). Section 5, Housing Block 3-C, corridor 2, door number 41. Chances that the door number was wrong were high, considering they came from drunks, but they couldn’t think of an alternative to trusting those information. Leaving the bar again, they would make their way to Housing Block 3-C.

“Watch it,” Elena whispered into Mason’s left ear huskily when they were about to turn to the corridor to their right, number two. “This must not turn out shit.”

And then, they were in said corridor. Ominous, sinister silence.

"Yes, I know." Mason would say sharply, not even caring about her words more then just enough to answer. Instead he tried to focus on the situation around them, taking a casual look behind himself from time to time, but seeing no one.

As they made their way towards the door 41 his right hand would slide onto his back and under his brown lether jacket, where he had his pistol holster attached. The laser handgun was ready, and the feel of the metal almost calmed him down. He tried to go over how the automatic rifle was assembled the quickets, the rifle that was located in the backpack hanging over his left shoulder. At least I can put a bullet in her head if she really did cross us, went through his head, whilst he kept an eye on the doors they passed, the number rising with each one.

35,37,39.. There you are. The thoughts were running through his mind as he saw the door that lead into the room they wanted into the most. With his left hand he pointed out the door to Elena, saying as he stared at the number "Alright.. Time to find out what the fuck is going on."

The closer they got to the door, the more Elena's heart began to ran. It throbbed against her chest like mad, and the high blood pressure threw her veins into sharp relief. Slowly she unzipped her leather jacket, and took the kinetic pistol out of its hidden holster. Rather small calibre, but therefore especially handy. Holding the gun near her chest, she watched out for her steps more closely, to make them as silent as possible.

She nodded her head slightly. "Yes," she replied, an almost instantly broke out in a cold sweat. The door seemed somewhat portentous to her, as she didn't know what secrets ensconced themselves behind it. Trying to suppress any loud breathing, she stepped closer to the door Mason pointed at and held her head against the door. It appeared to be thick, but maybe she could still eavesdrop on something. "Let's see if someone's home," she said and eyed Mason, putting a finger before her lips to indicate him to not make a sound.

No sound was audible through the door.

She sighed audibly, although she tried to stifle it, then moved away from the door again. After another brief inspection, moving her head up and down, she shook her head. A quick check for the corridor told her that the coast was still clear. They should act quickly before anybody came around the corner, she thought. In general, the whole situation all too well reminded her of when she had stood before Kiara's apartment on Freeport 6 once, snooping around. The memory took hold of her for a few seconds, but she pulled herself together.

Next to the door was the intercom device attached to the wall. She squinted at it, and didn't look up to Mason when she moved on talking. "No sounds. Who'd have thought," said she in a slightly sarcastic manner. "What do you think? The graceful or the rough approach?" In fact, she thought about pulling the same trick off as last time, but if that would work again? The other alternative was to blow it open with petards or cut through it with a laser.

Ever since they stood in front of the door his right hand was on his back, ready to pull his pistol out. "Depends on our chances.. And how loud the rough is. We don't know if she's here, so if not and we go in loud we will just have to run off as fast as possible." He would talk whilst looking at her, thinking about their situation.

Elena bit her lips together. That was exactly the crux about this matter. If they had bad luck and somebody was in there while they were cutting their way through the door, they would be arsed. She gulped again, getting rid of a lump in her throat. Her heart still banged against her chest, which made her inhale deeply first. After her level of stress was lowered - at least to some degree - she resumed thinking about what to do. The alternatives were few, and staring the door to death wouldn't help a single bit in finding a good solution. In the end, there were no good solutions to this.

Elena heaved another sigh and scratched her forehead with the hand that didn't hold the gun. Another look down the corridor suddenly, she gasped. For Mason it would appear quite weird, since only Elena knew what she had looked at all of a sudden. After it, she seemed even more unsettled. "Whatever, let's get this over with as quickly as possible," said she with wobbly voice. "Can you shoot the doorlock?"

As she gasped he would look the way she did, but seeing nothing strange he would just raise an eyebrow. The way she acted after that made him even more worried, as he didn't know what she wasn't telling him. He sighed quietly and pulled out his pistol, setting the laser to the highest power. Taking a brief look left and right during which he saw no one, he aimed it on the lock. He looks at Elena and after a moment would give a nod. "Three, two, one." He counted silently. A laser bolt, somewhat loud one would be heard as 'one' slipped off his toung. With his head he gestured to Elena to go in first whilst he needed a brief moment to lower his pistols power to normal, after what he followed in.

Taking a deep breath, Elena watched how the door opened inwardly from the laser's impact. A grimly determined expressions flashed over her face as she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes for a second. There was something audible in the distance, bloodcurdling howling of little children. For Mason on the other hand, nothing was audible besides his weapon powering up again.

Stifling a shudder, Elena stretched her right arm and pointed the gun into the direction of the door that was wide open by now. Another brief look at Mason, that showed nothing but unease, and she made a step towards the door. Then another, slowly and silently. And with another she entered the room.

For a moment he just wanted to shout at her for being so slow and that she should just get moving already. Instead a frustrated sigh came out of him, and she started to make her way in.

One last look around before they disappeared into the room, it all seemed clear. As soon as they cleared the door he would push it back and would hold it so it at least seemed somewhat closed. He follows her further in after that, only a step behind her, his breathing getting faster and faster as his pressure rose.

The view that opened itself to the two intruders was rather peaceful and cozy, it was the open space portion of the apartment, comprised of the living room and a small kitchen. To the right, behind a doorway into a corridor leading to further rooms, which was dimly lit, was the kitchen. It had a counter with a four stools, two on each side. A few steps away from the counter were several shelves, a refrigerator and a smaller counter with an oven and washing machine in it.

The living room, in front of them and extending to the left, was slightly bigger. It had a large window, with a view over some of the stores on the floor, which also illuminated the room with the station lights shining in. Close to the corner was a brown couch, in front of a television set, and with two armchairs next to it, one to the right, another to the left, and a coffee table in front of the couch.

Everything seemed elusively empty and quiet, no sounds were hearable, and no one could be seen from their position next to the door.

As if she was balancing over a rope, Elena carefully advanced foot after foot. She kept her pistol at the ready, clutching at it with both hands. There was a tremble in her hands, easily recognizable, that would make aiming a game of pure luck. Elena's hair stood on end, a sign of her great anxiety, not to mention the rapid throbbing of her heart. Although extremely short of breath, she tried to breath only as much as needed. The room seemed empty, but she was inclined to give no hostage to fortune.

She advanced further into the room, while soaking in every piece of detail she could perceive. Still, she was anything but truly concentrated, hearing eerie voices from the distant. Though she knew they were not reality, that would not hide the fact that they kept stressing the hell out of her. Together with this intense situation, it would make for quite an overall exertion. There were no words being spoken, at least not from Elena's side.

In the end, she just made another step forward.

The way she kept being slow and always under too much pressure started to really get to Mason, as he knew the longer they took to search the place, the more chance they get caught. As soon he could he would pass her in faster but still rather light steps, taking a look around the place. Although it all seemed empty he knew there is no room for mistakes, so his pistol was always at the ready.

As soon as Mason had walked past Elena, she would relax a little, though not all too much. Stepping into the living room, she would pick up some pace. Apparently, there really wasn't anybody either, and the lights being switched off suggested something similar. The silence however was almost unbearable for her, only interrupted by her thumping heart and the chirping voices from afar.

"Nobody seems to be here," said she whisperingly, pressing the words out of her mouth. Sooner or later she would have to pant like mad, she knew. After another looking-around, she decided to go for the shelves, lowering her gun just a little. While she was still on guard, she seemed to think the room really was unpeopled at the moment.

"Don't say that too quickly." He replied just as quietly. He made his way around the living room and further towards the kitchen, his eyes observing every detail. Even though there could be no one here, they might find a clue on where to go next.

Mason walked up to the counter, checking over the top and everything he could see. He then turned back to Elena, eyeing her for a brief moment before looking further around the room. Still unsure why they even came here in the first place, if Kiara really was supposed to be a captive. "Check the corridor?" He would ask her, still trying to be quiet.

She looked at him, tilted her head and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, and after a quick checking of the shelves moved towards said corridor, carefully. Nervously did she look around with rapid head motions. By now she didn't attempt to breath silently anymore, but instead made up for the shortage of air gaspingly.

Her head began to hurt slightly. No good sign at all. Raking her hands through the brown hair, she shook her head and sighed. "You have found anything yet?" she asked him.

Whilst Elena moved around he would make his way around the living room and for a bit just look out through the window.

Her voice shook him a bit as he came back to this place from his thoughts. He turns to her and just shakes his head slightly. "Check the bedroom, wherever it is. I'll go through the kitchen, if no one is here but the place is in use, we could just wait it out," he said quietly and made his way to the kitchen, starting to check the upper cabinets.

"Alright," she said before gulping audibly again. The way she felt about this place, with great tension and anxiety, stood in quite drastic contrast to how the room looked. Cozy, pristine, it spoke rather of peacefulness than terror. It made Elena even less sure on how to feel about all this; above all, it confused her. Were they actually checking the right room for real? Maybe it wasn't Moreau's apartment at all.

Elena had a quick gawp at her still trembling hand, damned the tremor silently. She couldn't suppress it for the life of her: this deep-rooted feeling of unrest and unsecurity that was making her heart beat wildly and her hands sweat as if they were wet sponges. Biting her lips together and lowering her head briefly, she scanned the ground beneath her. Then she looked back at Mason. "Maybe we're in the wrong apartment," she said out loudly, althought she hadn't intended the words to slip her mouth. Grasping the handle of one of the doors next to her, she would open it and peek through the slit. Seconds later she stepped in.

The door Elena opened was one of three doors, one left, one right, and one at the end of the corridor. It led into a bathroom, with the usual equipment of shower, toilet and so on. The various bottles suggested both a woman and a man living here, and the air was still humid, the floor of the shower still wet, as someone had showered very recently.

Elena's alarm bell rang almost instantly after she had entered the bathroom and switched on the light. The humid climate clearly indicated to her somebody had been showering here not long ago. Almost slipping over the wet tiles, she rivetted on the ground again. bent down slightly to see if she could recognize any footsteps. Then it made click in her head as she saw the collection of bottles.

She wheeled around gaspingly, looking at the mirror, pointing her gun against her own image. Her heart began to beat faster again. "Mason!" she called for her company. Obviously she waived the silent aspect of their mission by now. "Hold everything! Don't move!"

Then she appeared in the door, looking at him, eyes wide opened. "We're not alone."

Whilst Elena was in the bathroom Mason would have checked a few more things around the kitchen.

As he heard Elena's voice he looked around the room distractedly, when he saw it. A woman's head, whilst she was sitting huddled up on the floor. He quickly pulled his gun up, carefully looking at her. "I can see that," he replied to Elena, who could see him staring at the kitchen's floor

The blonde woman, wearing a simple, pink two-piece pajama, had a large medical patch on her neck. She just stared at him, starting to shake in fear, and held the knife up, trying to get him to go away. Spotted, she started to retreat away from him, into the corner where the counter met the wall, but never took her eyes off him, barely blinking, her hand with the knife trembling.

Elena, seeing Mason who was pointing a gun at somebody or something, wouldn't waste time and outright jumped by his side. Her gun she kept ready, pressed against her chest. With her somewhat snarled hair completely messed up and a frowned forehead, she would stare at what had apparently been lurking behind the counter all the time. Blinking in an incredulous manner, she looked into that blonde woman's eyes, then her gaze began to flicker slightly, moving to the knife in her hand. Slowly, but surely she let the gun sink down. "K-Kiara..?" she spoke with a stammer, while her eyebrows rose further and further.

Seeing the knife he would get even more ready to fire if needed. Hearing Elena call her Kiara he would turn his head towards her with a raised eyebrow, before looking at the women. With a slightly tilted head he grined and said, "Well then, ain't this nice. Drop the knife."

The woman just kept staring at them in fear, trying to get further away from them even after her back was already against the corner. Her legs kept moving, her feet sliding over the ground uselessly. "Leave me alone! I won't let you take me again!" she yelled, raising the knife further up threateningly.

At that moment they heard a sudden sound coming from the corridor, cutting through the tense situation like a sharp knife. A door being slammed.

A jerk ran through Elena's body as she perceived the slamming sound coming from the corridor. Her head snapped in the direction of the corridor, then back to Kiara who still crawled around on the floor. Then her gaze wandered up to Mason, and a skeered expression flashed over her face at once. "The fuck was that now," she said hectically, looking back at the corridor and pointing her gun towards it. The hand of hers was obviously shaking like mad by now, but only partially because of the sudden noise.

Hearing the door he would take his eyes off of Aurora and look towards where the noise came from. He looked at Elena as she gazed at him, replying: "Shit..." He then turned back to Aurora, adding: "Who else is in here?" He made a step towards her and would keep his gun aimed at her head."Drop the damned knife," he said in a sharp tone, looking straight into her eyes.

Her hand holding the knife started to shake even more, she was panicking, still trying to get away, despite being cornered. "No!" she yelled defiantly, albeit shakily, and kept staring at the gun, some tears running down her face.

"I'll check the corridor," Elena mumbled to Mason, tilting her head only slightly towards him while she spoke. "Take that bloody knife away from her while you're at it," she added before walking back towards the corridor from where the weird noises had occured. "Alright," Mason replied to Elena as she had left towards the corridor. He would make another step towards Aurora which would bring him about half a meter away from her. "Drop it. Or I shoot," he said with a serious look, one that said he would really do it. And he would, if this really was who they called Kiara, then she obviously had played them and is the wife of a Brigand. Obviously this did not help the situation at all, the girl just got even more frightened when he came closer. She slashed in his direction once, apparently trying to dissuade him from coming closer. She couldn't hit anything, though. "Go away! Go away! Why are you doing this?" she asked loudly and frustratedly and panicky. Not dropping the knife.

"What do you mean why am I doing this? Don't remember me, Kiara? Don't remember Elena over there either? Or was 'Kiara' just a lie you neglect now? Aurora, is it now?" he would mutter out in her face. Seeing as she still wouldn't drop the knife he would in a quick move change his aim from her head to the side, firing a bolt at the kitchen counter and burning a hole in it, as a threat. Afterwards he returned his aim to her head, staring into her eyes.

If Elena didn't know better, she would have thought it to be only a product of her imagination, similar to the thin voice she heard in the back of her mind and wanted to become free. But Mason had apparently heard it as well, so she investigated. Gun raised, she would shout: "Show yourself!" Seconds after, she found herself looking down an empty dark corridor, the same three doors. Nobody was there to reply. The door on the right led to the bathroom, and it was in the same state as Elena had left it earlier. The door on the left was open; it led to another room, probably a pantry, the lights turned off inside. But it was the door up ahead that drew her attention: it was shut, and the light in that room was clearly noticeable from under the door.

In an act of swallowing down her fear, Elena would tuck in her chin for a second and expire slowly. Then, carefully taking one step after another forward, she advanced towards the door behind which lights had obviously been switched on. After she griped its handle, she would count to three by herself, already holding the gun in a position to instantly shoot at whatever would reveal itself behind the door. A second of hesitation, in which she lowered her head for a moment and mumbled something through her gritted teeth. Then she would wrench the door open at one go, and check what was inside the room, gun thrust out.

As Elena opened the door and pointed her gun into the room, her nose could suddenly catch a faint scent of shampoo. And then, she felt a brief dumb kiss of cold metal on the back of her neck. A gun.

Kyle 'Outcast' Cross, Aurora Moreau, and the intruders
The apartment of Remy Moreau on Boulogne

Kyle had just finished putting on his clothes and walked out of the bathroom, turning the lights off, when he heard some strange commotion at the entry door. A gut feeling told him that it was no coincidence, considering that Boulogne was a Gallic Brigand station, and the owner of the apartment had disappeared. That's why Kyle instinctively stepped backwards, farther into the corridor, and eventually his back ended up against another closed door. As the laser shot pierced the lock on the apartment's entry door, Kyle quickly slipped into the dark room and closed the door behind him silently. It was apparently a bedroom of some sorts, but it was too dark to distinguish what was inside.

For a painfully long while things were silent, until Kyle heard steps in the corridor and a female voice shouting something about the intruders not being alone (Kyle assumed that anyone but Kiara was an intruder). The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Kyle couldn't put it and didn't give it much thought. He remained focused on survival, until he heard yelling from the living room: "Leave me alone! I won't let you take me again!" It was Kiara, and she clearly knew those people. They just had to be Brigands.

Right, Kyle, think. You are unarmed. At least two armed guys took Kiara. They don't expect her Sirian boyfriend. To prove that theory Kyle had to take a risk and open the door, which he did. Lucky for him, the corridor was indeed empty. Goal: save Kiara. Need a gun for that. Separate those thugs first.

Kyle turned on the lights in the bedroom, closing the door behind him as he snuck into the corridor. There was the bathroom to the left of Kyle, another closed door to the right, and farther ahead on the right there was a passage to the living room, where all the action was going, apparently. Out of any other ideas, Kyle opened the door to the right of him, sneaking into another dark room. He then slammed the door shut and silently opened it again, hiding behind it and looking through the glimpse between the door and the corridor at whomever who'd try to check out what's going on. He then heard a woman shout "Show yourself!" in the corridor. The voice may have sounded familiar, but Kyle was in the middle of trying to hide his presence and figure out what to do, so he didn't pay attention to it. Please check out the light in the bedroom first.

Not long afterwards he saw a woman with her gun at the ready, walkng slowly down the corridor. Yes, keep going, nothing to see here, just two... more... steps. Kyle searched his pockets until he found his Cardamine inhaler with a metallic canister. He then proceeded to sneak behind the woman, and as she opened the door, Kyle made his move, placing the metallic canister against the back of the woman's neck, whispering: "Stand still. Not a single shout, or you're dead. Hands in the air, I'll be taking that gun of yours."

The woman complied, exhaling loudly, and remained silent. But then Kyle heard a laser shot in the living room. ****, no time The woman seemingly ignored it, but whispered back in a trembling voice, as her arms went up: "Let's not jump the gun... Want my gun? Pick it up."

**** that *****! Even Kyle's reflexes enhanced by Cardamine didn't allow him to catch the falling gun. With a silent curse escaping his mouth, Kyle did the only logical thing: he hit the woman on the back of her neck with a sharp of his hand, hoping that the hit would knock her out, at least for a while.

As the intruder collapsed on the floor, Kyle quickly leaned down to grab her gun from the floor, immediately turning around and aiming down the corridor where she had come from. Great, a slugthrower. Only one clip. Nobody followed, so Kyle hastily retreated back into the bedroom, taking cover behind a nearby wall. He then heard a shout: "Elena? Everything alright?" Too slow, I'm safe already. Try me now, *******!

Normally Kyle would've taken his time and wouldn't have announced his position, but he couldn't wait and let those thugs do something to Kiara in the meantime. Cursing at himself for the act of stupidity he was about to perform, Kyle shouted: "Hey, want to check up on your friend yet? Then come out in the corridor, and don't try anything funny!"

"Hurry up already, we don't have all day!" Kyle shouted after a few more moments. The anxiety and anger were getting the better of him. The longer this situation continued, the more time that thug had to do something to Kiara or come up with a plan. Not to mention that someone was bound to check up on the apartment after the lock of the entry door was shot. "Get your rear out in the corridor, or I'll lose my patience."

"Can say the same for myself. Where is my friend?" Kyle heard the reply from the man who apparently had Kiara hostage. He just needed to have Kiara safely out of that guy's reach. What would happen next was secondary: "You'll see her once you reach the corridor. You there yet? Once you're in the corridor, stand there. We need to discuss what happens now."

"Buddy you think I'm dumb enough to stand in there? How about you peek out and see who is though." There was some arguing in the living room, and Kyle thought he heard Kiara's voice. What he heard next was a sound he was the most afraid to hear: a shot of a laser pistol, albeit not at full power. DO SOMETHING, IDIOT! Kyle wanted to rush towards the living room, but that would mean leaving cover and getting killed for no reason. So instead he just peeked into the corridor briefly, his gun at the ready.

He saw Kiara stumbling against the doorframe into the corridor, nearly falling through. She then fell to her knees (it seemed to be a controlled fall), leaning her forehead against the frame. She muttered some curse through clenched teeth to the man who had shot her, and then she held her left hand against her belly. What's worse, the Brigand in the living room could probably still aim at Kiara, and Kyle wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Then he heard the intruder again: "Now then, as I said, where is my friend?"

A friend? That'll do. Kyle looked at the gun he had picked up from the woman earlier. A slugthrower, one clip, unknown number of bullets. He then looked at the woman lying unconscious in the doorway. Her brown hair had covered her face entirely. At least he didn't have to look at her face...

Hesitant, even disgusted at himself for what he was about to do, Kyle stepped to the side and a bit farther from the woman to get a better angle, but making sure that he wouldn't be seen through the doorway by the thug that held Kiara hostage. With a sigh, he aimed at the woman's right ankle and took a shot, ensuring that it wouldn't hit the bone and would just graze the woman. The sound of a powder weapon thundered throughout the apartment.

"My pistol ain't a laser one, so I can't regulate how hard it hits!" Kyle shouted through the doorway with anger and and a slight tone of gloating in his voice. "This is how it's going down: you let Kiara enter the room where I'm in. Then you throw your gun in here too. After that you can tend to your friend's wounds before she bleeds out, then you tell us what you're doing here and we figure out what to do with you. Another option is that you shoot Kiara, I shoot your friend, and then we try shooting each other. Think fast, you *******!"

Apparently, Kyle calculated right. Thugs only understood brute force and guts, so backing out when Kiara was shot wasn't an option. Kyle was satisfied at the reaction he got from that Brigand: "You mo-.. How do you plan to negotiate if she looks already dead to me?! You better answer fast, *****." Right, we got his attention. Now it's time to use logic: "I only hit her on the back of her neck because you two trigger-happy wackos showed up here uninvited and started shooting." If that Brigand was reasonable enough to start talking, Kyle needed that thought to sink into his thick skull. "Your friend will wake up soon enough. I wouldn't have even shot at her if you hadn't shot at Kiara!"

Hopefully, that too wouldn't seem to that Brigand as far-fetched. It was the truth, after all. Kyle continued: "I clearly can't trust you holding the gun, but if you do as I say, there won't be any more shooting. I'd give you my word, but it probably wouldn't mean anything to you. But we don't even know each other. For all I know, I have no problem with you, as long as you quit threatening me or Kiara with guns!"

"Oh.. Good, then we might just resolve this nicely," Kyle didn't think it was sincere, but as long as the thug was talking, it wasn't for nothing. "Although I thought she's Aurora now.. Which means you are that Remy guy.. What bring us into a weird position.." Kyle then heard a squeal of pain from Kiara, but then saw her crawling clumsily on three limbs towards the bathroom, where she grabbed the handle with her uninjured hand and pulled herself up, opening the door at the same time. As she locked herself out from the bathroom, Kyle felt down and relieved at thee same time: she didn't come to him, but at least she was safe from what was about to unfold.

"I guess the bathroom will do just fine too," Kyle shouted, hoping his adversary would hear it. "Now, just toss that gun of yours into the room I'm in, and feel free to attend to the wound of your friend. I won't stand in the way." "Right.. Because you just won't shoot me. And how about we both drop our guns?" Kyle heard the sound of a laser pistol being dropped into the corridor, yet a few steps away outside the room. Trying to take it meant leaving the cover. "Let me hear yours drop too."

Whoever those guys were, they sure knew how to hand over their guns. First that woman dropped the gun instead of letting Kyle take it. Then the trigger-happy guy threw a gun right oustide the room, not into the room as he had been told. "Nah, that wasn't what we agreed on. I'd rather keep my only gun," Kyle didn't know how many more guns or accomplices that Brigand had. He removed the clip to see how many bullets he had left: there were 11. Good, should be enough for whatever comes next. Kyle pushed the clip back into the pistol, preparing himself for an inevitable firefight.

"Besides, how would I know you don't have a..." Suddenly Kyle felt the strong grip of a pair of hands strongly grabbing his legs. Before he could realize what was happening, he was already falling down on the floor.