Takahashi, Mikako

[Bakamono]

When Mikako regained consciousness she was sitting roughly upright, slumped against a wall, her hands and feet remained bound. Every fibre ached as if she had been tenderized like raw meat. A unfamiliar man sat opposite her, peering intently before turning away - “She's awake!” he shouted to unseen crew. Turning back to her he proffered a bottle and a shallow dish of some gruel like sludge. “Food, water – you eat.” she registered a brief moment of shock, as she caught the image of her father standing just behind the stranger.

Nodding slowly she reached out her hands carefully, half expecting to be struck. The water was flat but was ambrosia to Mikako, the grey food was bland and textureless – but eagerly welcomed by the starving woman. The stranger watched her painfully eat, obviously assessing her with some curiosity. She had a moment to check her surroundings, the crates were arranged differently, some were new, her sword was nowhere to be seen.

The image of her father spoke “Mikako – it is time.” she nodded curtly in acknowledgement – afraid to give away his presence to the guard.

Treek scuttled into view and nodded to the stranger, who disappeared down a corridor. “'Joy food sahree?” the twisted man sneered sarcastically “we feed nice – you now tell” he unfurled a stained system chart. “You tell - where sahree look here? – where you go? What plans here? Where galks?”

“Anyone can see – we go lanes with Shinkaku – samura place...”
Treek quickly lashed out with a knife, slicing one cheek superficially.

“What say Treek!? No say Sahree! Stannard!” the man turned to place the knife down as he mumbled to himself “You no unnerstan knife, maybz taze see you right...”

In a desperate surge she rushed upon Treek, her ruined hands reaching for his throat. Treek raised the weapon in defence, but Mikako made contact as the shock struck, the amps tore through the pair who fell heavily. Treek spasmed - dropping the device, his eyes wide as his situation dawned on him. Two bodies scrambled on the floor in desperation to obtain advantage, neither in a state fit for combat: limbs flailed awkwardly, short punches glanced, grips slipped.

Mikakos desire for survival was stronger - she twisted and writhed, swinging to Treeks rear, raising her hands in unison, her bonds pulled tight against Treeks neck. Her grip closed tighter as she envisioned pulling right through her torturers neck. Strangled chokes escaped his lips as his legs kicked in panic to gain purchase, she clung onto his throat and felt his efforts weaken, then ebb, then cease. Her father nodded in grave assent.

She released her grip and detected no breath from the body. Hurriedly she retrieved the taser and anything else she could salvage easily. She found a bar of something sweet on Treek, which she awkwardly consumed before crossing to the cutting torch.

Standing ready at the door – Mikako knocked four times as she had seen Treek do. The door was opened by a shabby looking man, his gun hanging by his side, his face slack as though bored by mundane procedure. He had time to open his mouth before Mikako shoved the taser into his throat. He Dropped to the ground in a gargled whimper, Mikako maintained contact to ensure incapacitation and waited, straining to hear the approach of any other guards. Her father walked to each doorway, poking his head through each and signalling “all clear”.

Satisfied she frisked the downed stranger, resulting in a keycard, a lighter and a pistol. She stripped the man, tied him with his own clothes, and threw him in with Treek before retrieving the cutting torch and hauling it with her.

“And now my daughter, are you like the whale?”
“No father”
“the orca then?”
“No father: I am Takahashi, and I am death to my enemies.”

Minutes stretched into hours as Mikako searched endlessly through the corridors of the huge, unfamiliar ship. Free of her bonds at last, her wrists and ankles still hurt and bore deep impressions left by the ligatures.

Creeping from point to point, her journey consisted of observing guards and waiting. Her father would stand by silently – using navy hand signals to warn her and offer advice. Sometimes she would have to shock, tie and hide a man – until the taser ran out of power.

Both she and the guard looked down at the device surprised as the charge fizzled out, he grinned as he raised his rifle and Mikako tackled. Burning energy from the rifle swamped her left arm even as she drove the man into the wall. The high pitched noise of an old blaster sounded, she cursed as her location was betrayed.

Fire burned on her forearm for moments as she frustratedly knocked the weapon away. Synthetic skin bubbled and peeled as she drove her fist into the mans head. He crumpled slowly, blood trickling from his nose as his skull collapsed inward.

Makoto spoke “You know they will be coming...”
“Hai”
“The time for mercy has passed Mikako”
Her reply was barely a whisper “Hai father.” Grabbing what she could – Takahashi retreated into the maze, anticipating the search party.

Using the walls for aid, Mikako hauled herself through the humming corridors – longing for respite. She sighed in satisfaction at spying the scratched medical markings on the door before her and dragged herself through.

The 'med-bay' was in actuality little more than frame bed and a series of sheet metal cabinets filled with rudimentary medical supplies. Carelessly tossing through the contents Mikako quickly found some sedatives, stims and slap-patches and a container of spray-bandage. This last she used immediately, thanking the small gods that it was not empty.

From what she could tell the room did not get many visitors, she judged the bloody smudges on the floor to be over a week old – nevertheless she left quickly: if they discovered her injury – they would surely be closing in on her soon.

At the primary relay from the reactor, Mikako readied the torch to sever the main line. She was almost surprised by the engineer who happened upon her, without sufficient time for anything else – she twisted the torches valve and turned it on her attacker. A terrible chaotic plume of fire filled the space between them, bellowing against the ceiling as it cavorted upon itself. Mikako fell backwards as the flames bloomed, the man flailed and shrieked as a trapped beast. Mikako hurried for the pistol to grant the man some mercy, a single round silenced his terrible screams.

As his burning body toppled she noted her families sword wreathed in the unnatural conflagration. She worked as she waited to retrieve her blade from the damp, smouldering cinders. She had to hurry, there would not be enough time to cut reliably now - she sabotaged the torch, propped the rifle against it, set the charge to overload and disappeared once more into the bowels of the smugglers ship.

Minutes later she felt the concussion as the explosion did its work, lights flickered sporadically before dying. Darkness filled the ship along with an eerie silence in absence of the usual electric hum.

Distant voices echoed weakly in surprise – perhaps two hundred yards away. She crept toward them, her cold will to survive guiding her to further murder.

She heard the next man before she saw him, he had just reported his status over the radio “Zim – looks o.k 'ere – on me way to kitchen, over.”

“Alright zim – take it easy – we all know you how you have a hard time with women, ” the operator laughed “over”.

“That's not what ya mam says over”

“Bastich! my mom is saint, over and out”

Her father stood at a corner and signalled her to wait – then made the gesture to approach.

Zim laughed to himself as she heard the crinkling of him unwrapping a food bar. She crept from her cover to see her target with his back turned at fifteen paces. Her sword already unsheathed, she padded toward the undisciplined Zim.

Her fake hand covered the mans mouth even as she punched the blade into his back and through his heart. He struggled to look down as the point emerged from his chest, life left him quickly. She guided his body to the ground as she slid the blade free.