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Fic of doom Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight:
"I have a plan." Natalie looked around at those standing in the control center, and wondered if this was the best time to admit her ideas. To really let them know where she stood. But with the two humans watching her with scepticism, she felt she had to go ahead.
"Being out here, without resurrection, has changed us. We are people, not machines, and I think the reason for that is that lack, that chance that we might die for good." Seeing the surprise and assent on a few faces, she continued, wondering how long the agreement would last, "So, I propose that we find the hub and destroy it."
Said out loud, it carried a disturbing weight, a sense of finality.
"You can't be serious." Prudence looked confused, "Natalie, that will be murdering--"
"Tens of thousands of bodies that have no lives and no mind. Bodies that are just shells, waiting for us to die so we can be reborn--don't you see, Prudence? This life is finite. Living forever is a lie, a scam. It destroys something precious." She drew in a breath and continued, "I know that this is insane, I know that the idea of destroying the very thing which gives us hope is ridiculous. But I think it's the only way that we, as a people, can survive without tearing ourselves apart."
Anton looked uncomfortable. "But what happens, then, Natalie? How do we continue as a species? You and I both know that the tests for producing off-spring have consistently ended in failure. Only Athena was able to reproduce, and that with a human."
"Then maybe that's what we're left with, Anton. Maybe we didn't want it enough. We could just resurrect, after all. What did it really matter if we had children?"
Natalie's words made his eyes widen, and some of the Eights and Sixes slowly nodded, as though in agreement.
"So, if we'd wanted it enough?" Rebecca, an Eight asked, her voice a curious lilt that was almost the refined accent Gaius Baltar used. "Then it would have worked?"
"Athena once told us that she and Helo were special, that it was their love that made Hera possible." It was the first time either human had spoken, and Sam Anders looked uncomfortable when he'd closed his mouth, as though he hadn't intended to say anything.
Looking even more uncomfortable, Simon spoke up, "With our trials using human women and men on Caprica, we discovered that it was possible to bring a fetus to term, but there were problems, defects. A fully human baby would be healthy, but a cylon-human baby..." He trailed off and shook his head. "It was part of the reason we shut down the farms and stopped trying to force the issue. It was a waste of life: human and Cylon."
"You mean it wasn't just because I broke your toys?" Kara asked, her voice sneering as she looked at the Four. "You know, Leoben once told me you were able to grow babies in test tubes. Was he lying?"
"He was," Simon confirmed. "We tried twice and both were failures, the fetuses dead by the second week. Obviously, we're missing knowledge that the Five never gave us, or restricted us from knowing."
From where he was segregated from Kara Thrace, Leoben had the grace to look almost abashed at that. He didn't say anything to defend himself, though, and Natalie once again made a mental note to keep him away from Thrace. Antagonizing their one, possible, human ally was a bad idea. Besides, the Twos and their creepy obsession had always sort of annoyed Natalie, and now she could do something about it.
"We're getting off the subject. Do you agree with me that we should destroy the hub and level the playing field? So that every death counts for something instead of seeming like a dream that doesn't matter?"
Natalie wasn't entirely sure what she expected. Part of her had hoped that the rest would see it as she did: leveling the playing field and stopping Cavil was a priority. Most of her had worried that they wouldn't want to give up the luxury of not being permanently dead (even if at the moment, Cavil had control of the hub, they could try to take it back).
What she was not expecting was that almost every Cylon in the control room would exchange a glance and then agree.
Not that it mattered. Until the base star was fixed, they wouldn't be going anywhere. Natalie wondered if they'd taken that into account with their agreements. If they were fatalistically planning for something they wouldn't ever manage to do. A smile crossed her face. They were mistaken if they thought that she wouldn't hold them to their agreement when the time came to do as they'd planned.
-=-
Standing there, with Cavil watching her as she stood next to the data stream, Boomer felt nervous. Everything she'd done before this had been something she could walk away from. Something that wasn't permanent. But with her plan set, with her people waiting for the signal, Boomer couldn't simply walk away. A part of her still wasn't sure that this was the way to go. With Cavil dead, with most of the Fours and Fives on the ship dead by axphyxiation, they would resurrect at the hub. That would cause issues, as time went on Cavil wasn't going to stop trying to destroy the rebel Cylons.
He wasn't going to stop trying to destroy the humans, either. Boomer had heard him ranting enough, had seen his anger at Ellen, to know that humanity still living was something he couldn't tolerate.
With the hub still under his control, it was only a matter of time before all of the rebels were either dead or boxed. Including Boomer. She shivered a little at the thought, remembering that it had been one of the reasons she'd agreed to help Caprica, so long ago. Being boxed scared most of them, the idea that they would lose themselves for an eternity of nothingness.
On top of that, Boomer was still a little worried that Cavil had something up his sleeve when it came to her. Some sort of programing that would destroy her autonomy and make her nothing more than his puppet.
He'd made her shoot Adama, once, turning herself into nothing but an emotionless centurion, a machine that didn't care (and how right was Natalie in returning autonomy to those machines? Boomer was never sure on that score, either).
Could he do it again, could he destroy her hard-won control of her own life?
Boomer shifted and slid her fingertips into the datastream, feeling that rush of power she always did.
"What are you doing, Boomer?"
Cavil's voice came from a distance, and Boomer turned her head to watch as he moved, almost in slow motion. I'm sorry. She actually felt sad for what she was doing.
There. The controls for the pressure hatchways were in her grasp and she twisted them around, destroying the fail-safes and protocols even as Cavil's hand settled on her shoulder.
"Boomer, whatever you're doing, it's not going to work."
Yes it is. She killed the lights, sending the signal, and pulled free of the datastream, turning, hand on Cavil's wrist as she yanked him inwards, slamming his head down against the side of the console before he had time to react.
His fingers dug into her wrist, and she could hear him struggling as she did it again and again until he'd stopped. She dropped his body, not caring if he was dead, feeling a sort of vindication. Never again. He was never frakiing touching her again, never twisting her mind, implanting a personality, or changing her again. She was her own self.
"Boomer, what are you doing?"
It was one of the Fives, and she pulled the side-arm from its holster and opened fire.
Somewhere deep down, a part of her curled in a corner, crying for the innocence of Boomer the Cylon, who had once loved Adama and Cavil and wanted to be accepted by both. She had lost that, on shooting Adama. Now she had lost it forever with Cavil.
-=-
"I've been checking with the other comms people," Dee said, playing with her spoon.
They were sitting in the cafeteria, each staring at the nearly unpalatable algae that was all they had to eat, these days. Cally toyed with her own spoon, and wondered if they would ever find more supplies. "Was that a good idea?"
"I don't know. We don't even know what this signal is, after all." With a sigh, Dee took a spoonful of her algae, her face wrinkling up.
Cally passed her the salt (a dwindling commodity, despite what some of the scientists claimed), and wished she knew why the signal made her worried. "It's just... I don't know. It's coming from Starbuck's weird viper. Maybe it's a homing signal for the Cylons. Maybe they're tracking us somehow?"
"I guess that would explain how they found us in the nebula. But why haven't they come back since?"
Her theory did have some holes in it. Cally shrugged, "Yeah, that doesn't make sense. So. What did they say?"
"It's not something they can track, either. Just seems to be Starbuck's viper. Which is weird: a viper's comms system is less sophisticated and weaker." Dee frowned, "It shouldn't be picking up anything at all that we aren't."
What if it was something from inside the ship? Cally turned the idea over in her mind, then decided that wouldn't work. The systems on Galactica should be able to pick up the signal, and from what Dee had said before, the signal was definitely from somewhere that wasn't where they currently were.
"So. If you could pinpoint where the signal was from, could we jump there?"
Dee blinked at her, "What do you mean? We'd need to triangulate it; one direction alone isn't going to work, anyway."
A sigh escaped Cally, "Do you think we should tell someone? Maybe if more people looked for it, we could find out what it is."
"It's just a repetitive signal, like a distress beacon," offered Dee. Then she chuckled, "Cally, you're the one who came to me. This is your baby, not mine. If you think you should tell more people, don't hesitate to do so."
Cally shrugged, "This is why I'd make a horrible command officer."
-=-
Sitting by herself, Paulla watched the two finish their meal and move off. She hadn't heard the entire conversation, but she'd heard enough to make her wonder. There was enough going on that one little signal wasn't something all that remarkable.
But still, it was something to know. Something that the two women hadn't wanted anyone else to know.
Paulla finished her own algae, then got up and headed back to the compound. She didn't often come to the cafeteria, prefering to eat in their own space rather than where most of the Galactica's military ate, although there were more and more civilians as the months wore on. She wonderd if that was simply due to the refugees or due to the relaxed standards on the part of the marines. But being there gave her a good chance to pick up gossip.
Gaius Baltar didn't really care about her people, that's what frightened her the most about him (what frightened her at all, really). He talked an excellent game, and the words he said helped. They made sense. But Paulla had seen the look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. Contempt for them, for the way so many clung to him and asked him for guidance. As though he were a prophet who only believed in the profit of staying alive rather than this God that he claimed to speak for.
It was something she'd been noticing for ages: he'd won them support, won their cause more people, and yet he was in some ways nothing more than just a man. Just a good speaker.
Sometimes, Paulla thought about what they would have done if he had died that day in the head. If she hadn't been able to feel the power of God flow through her, and her hands and fists hadn't been enough to stop Charlie Connor when revenge was on the line (sometimes, she even wonderd if Connor was justified in what he wanted to do for the loss of his son).
Would her people be as vulnerable as they were to attack? The Sons of Ares had ignored them until Gaius' teachings began being broadcast. Adama's marines had ignored them until Baltar had pushed the issue, incurring random beatings and more than a few rapes as the marines took out their frustration, or allowed civiliians to. Paulla had seen more than one member of Adama's staff turn a blind eye to people worshipping the One God being harassed. Melea was one such woman who had survived a brutal assault (the marines had been brought up on charges that were dismissed due to expediency).
Paulla didn't entertain the idea of a mutiny. There was no way her people could run a ship like the Galactica.
No. What they needed was a voice in the government, a choice and a way to make laws that would be enforced. And if Gaius continued to gather more followers, they would swll their ranks and have clout. Eventually. Paulla knew that would still be an uphill battle: Laura Roslin wouldn't simply allow a group that didn't follow her religion to have a voice in the quorum. The woman was too set in her ways, too canny for that.
But Paulla could hope, and plan. One day, her people would be heard and they would have a choice in where they went and how resources were used.
Until then, she would simply have to listen and learn.
-=-
Candy had waited until the indicators told her the entire base star was open to the vacuum of space and then she closed the airlock. Not keying in the atmosphere, she unhooked herself from the wall and started down the hall, Jo behind her. They would sweep as many of the levels as they could, checking for survivors and stragglers. Boomer had told them to defend themselves, but otherwise not to kill unless they thought it was necessary. Candy had the feeling it was going to be necessary.
There were corpses littering the hallway around the hangar bay, and she and Jo exchanged a look before taking defensive positions to either side of the door. It wasn't as though either of them had combat training, but there was still caution to be had.
Stepping into the hangar, she looked around, seeing more bodies. There were no centurions on this level, which she was grateful for. Boomer wasn't sure they could trus them, not until they'd been able to take their inhibitors out (and even then, Candy wasn't sure that was a good idea). And the centurions wouldn't be susceptible to the lack of oxygen the way the rest of them were.
"This was too easy," Jo murmured, carefully sweeping the area with her weapon.
Candy agreed, but decided that saying it aloud would be a stupid idea. Movement at the far side made her freeze before scrambling into cover behind a raptor. "Did you see that? No one else is supposed to be on this level."
"I know." Jo was silent for a moment, then she nudged Candy, "I'll go around to the right and try to flush them out. You stay here and ambush them."
Not bothering to reply over their suit comms, Candy simply shifted so that she was covering the stretch of flooring where Jo would hopefully drive them and waited as the Eight slipped off, making her way from piece of cover to piece of cover until Candy couldn't see her anymore.
It seemed to take forever before a flight suit-clad Five dashed in front of Candy. She didn't fire at him, deciding that punching him would be more cathartic.
She tackled him, sending them both crashing to the deck. Candy had the upper hand in surprise and strength, and managed to hit him in the torso and neck several times before he managed to start fighting back. Unfortunately for him, one of her punches cracked his face-plate. Within seconds, he was seeping oxygen, the skin of his face turning blue and white as his air ran out on him. Not that she noticed until he stopped fighting back. And even then, she was still punching him with zeal until Jo stopped her.
"He's dead."
"What?" Candy actually looked at him, and realized he was limp between her legs. "Oh. Whoops."
Jo snickered, "I don't think that's really an oops, Candy. But whatever. Let's get the rest of this level cleared, and head for the command center. I'm worried about Boomer."
"You think she couldn't hack it?"
"Something like that."
-=-
chapter nine
"I have a plan." Natalie looked around at those standing in the control center, and wondered if this was the best time to admit her ideas. To really let them know where she stood. But with the two humans watching her with scepticism, she felt she had to go ahead.
"Being out here, without resurrection, has changed us. We are people, not machines, and I think the reason for that is that lack, that chance that we might die for good." Seeing the surprise and assent on a few faces, she continued, wondering how long the agreement would last, "So, I propose that we find the hub and destroy it."
Said out loud, it carried a disturbing weight, a sense of finality.
"You can't be serious." Prudence looked confused, "Natalie, that will be murdering--"
"Tens of thousands of bodies that have no lives and no mind. Bodies that are just shells, waiting for us to die so we can be reborn--don't you see, Prudence? This life is finite. Living forever is a lie, a scam. It destroys something precious." She drew in a breath and continued, "I know that this is insane, I know that the idea of destroying the very thing which gives us hope is ridiculous. But I think it's the only way that we, as a people, can survive without tearing ourselves apart."
Anton looked uncomfortable. "But what happens, then, Natalie? How do we continue as a species? You and I both know that the tests for producing off-spring have consistently ended in failure. Only Athena was able to reproduce, and that with a human."
"Then maybe that's what we're left with, Anton. Maybe we didn't want it enough. We could just resurrect, after all. What did it really matter if we had children?"
Natalie's words made his eyes widen, and some of the Eights and Sixes slowly nodded, as though in agreement.
"So, if we'd wanted it enough?" Rebecca, an Eight asked, her voice a curious lilt that was almost the refined accent Gaius Baltar used. "Then it would have worked?"
"Athena once told us that she and Helo were special, that it was their love that made Hera possible." It was the first time either human had spoken, and Sam Anders looked uncomfortable when he'd closed his mouth, as though he hadn't intended to say anything.
Looking even more uncomfortable, Simon spoke up, "With our trials using human women and men on Caprica, we discovered that it was possible to bring a fetus to term, but there were problems, defects. A fully human baby would be healthy, but a cylon-human baby..." He trailed off and shook his head. "It was part of the reason we shut down the farms and stopped trying to force the issue. It was a waste of life: human and Cylon."
"You mean it wasn't just because I broke your toys?" Kara asked, her voice sneering as she looked at the Four. "You know, Leoben once told me you were able to grow babies in test tubes. Was he lying?"
"He was," Simon confirmed. "We tried twice and both were failures, the fetuses dead by the second week. Obviously, we're missing knowledge that the Five never gave us, or restricted us from knowing."
From where he was segregated from Kara Thrace, Leoben had the grace to look almost abashed at that. He didn't say anything to defend himself, though, and Natalie once again made a mental note to keep him away from Thrace. Antagonizing their one, possible, human ally was a bad idea. Besides, the Twos and their creepy obsession had always sort of annoyed Natalie, and now she could do something about it.
"We're getting off the subject. Do you agree with me that we should destroy the hub and level the playing field? So that every death counts for something instead of seeming like a dream that doesn't matter?"
Natalie wasn't entirely sure what she expected. Part of her had hoped that the rest would see it as she did: leveling the playing field and stopping Cavil was a priority. Most of her had worried that they wouldn't want to give up the luxury of not being permanently dead (even if at the moment, Cavil had control of the hub, they could try to take it back).
What she was not expecting was that almost every Cylon in the control room would exchange a glance and then agree.
Not that it mattered. Until the base star was fixed, they wouldn't be going anywhere. Natalie wondered if they'd taken that into account with their agreements. If they were fatalistically planning for something they wouldn't ever manage to do. A smile crossed her face. They were mistaken if they thought that she wouldn't hold them to their agreement when the time came to do as they'd planned.
-=-
Standing there, with Cavil watching her as she stood next to the data stream, Boomer felt nervous. Everything she'd done before this had been something she could walk away from. Something that wasn't permanent. But with her plan set, with her people waiting for the signal, Boomer couldn't simply walk away. A part of her still wasn't sure that this was the way to go. With Cavil dead, with most of the Fours and Fives on the ship dead by axphyxiation, they would resurrect at the hub. That would cause issues, as time went on Cavil wasn't going to stop trying to destroy the rebel Cylons.
He wasn't going to stop trying to destroy the humans, either. Boomer had heard him ranting enough, had seen his anger at Ellen, to know that humanity still living was something he couldn't tolerate.
With the hub still under his control, it was only a matter of time before all of the rebels were either dead or boxed. Including Boomer. She shivered a little at the thought, remembering that it had been one of the reasons she'd agreed to help Caprica, so long ago. Being boxed scared most of them, the idea that they would lose themselves for an eternity of nothingness.
On top of that, Boomer was still a little worried that Cavil had something up his sleeve when it came to her. Some sort of programing that would destroy her autonomy and make her nothing more than his puppet.
He'd made her shoot Adama, once, turning herself into nothing but an emotionless centurion, a machine that didn't care (and how right was Natalie in returning autonomy to those machines? Boomer was never sure on that score, either).
Could he do it again, could he destroy her hard-won control of her own life?
Boomer shifted and slid her fingertips into the datastream, feeling that rush of power she always did.
"What are you doing, Boomer?"
Cavil's voice came from a distance, and Boomer turned her head to watch as he moved, almost in slow motion. I'm sorry. She actually felt sad for what she was doing.
There. The controls for the pressure hatchways were in her grasp and she twisted them around, destroying the fail-safes and protocols even as Cavil's hand settled on her shoulder.
"Boomer, whatever you're doing, it's not going to work."
Yes it is. She killed the lights, sending the signal, and pulled free of the datastream, turning, hand on Cavil's wrist as she yanked him inwards, slamming his head down against the side of the console before he had time to react.
His fingers dug into her wrist, and she could hear him struggling as she did it again and again until he'd stopped. She dropped his body, not caring if he was dead, feeling a sort of vindication. Never again. He was never frakiing touching her again, never twisting her mind, implanting a personality, or changing her again. She was her own self.
"Boomer, what are you doing?"
It was one of the Fives, and she pulled the side-arm from its holster and opened fire.
Somewhere deep down, a part of her curled in a corner, crying for the innocence of Boomer the Cylon, who had once loved Adama and Cavil and wanted to be accepted by both. She had lost that, on shooting Adama. Now she had lost it forever with Cavil.
-=-
"I've been checking with the other comms people," Dee said, playing with her spoon.
They were sitting in the cafeteria, each staring at the nearly unpalatable algae that was all they had to eat, these days. Cally toyed with her own spoon, and wondered if they would ever find more supplies. "Was that a good idea?"
"I don't know. We don't even know what this signal is, after all." With a sigh, Dee took a spoonful of her algae, her face wrinkling up.
Cally passed her the salt (a dwindling commodity, despite what some of the scientists claimed), and wished she knew why the signal made her worried. "It's just... I don't know. It's coming from Starbuck's weird viper. Maybe it's a homing signal for the Cylons. Maybe they're tracking us somehow?"
"I guess that would explain how they found us in the nebula. But why haven't they come back since?"
Her theory did have some holes in it. Cally shrugged, "Yeah, that doesn't make sense. So. What did they say?"
"It's not something they can track, either. Just seems to be Starbuck's viper. Which is weird: a viper's comms system is less sophisticated and weaker." Dee frowned, "It shouldn't be picking up anything at all that we aren't."
What if it was something from inside the ship? Cally turned the idea over in her mind, then decided that wouldn't work. The systems on Galactica should be able to pick up the signal, and from what Dee had said before, the signal was definitely from somewhere that wasn't where they currently were.
"So. If you could pinpoint where the signal was from, could we jump there?"
Dee blinked at her, "What do you mean? We'd need to triangulate it; one direction alone isn't going to work, anyway."
A sigh escaped Cally, "Do you think we should tell someone? Maybe if more people looked for it, we could find out what it is."
"It's just a repetitive signal, like a distress beacon," offered Dee. Then she chuckled, "Cally, you're the one who came to me. This is your baby, not mine. If you think you should tell more people, don't hesitate to do so."
Cally shrugged, "This is why I'd make a horrible command officer."
-=-
Sitting by herself, Paulla watched the two finish their meal and move off. She hadn't heard the entire conversation, but she'd heard enough to make her wonder. There was enough going on that one little signal wasn't something all that remarkable.
But still, it was something to know. Something that the two women hadn't wanted anyone else to know.
Paulla finished her own algae, then got up and headed back to the compound. She didn't often come to the cafeteria, prefering to eat in their own space rather than where most of the Galactica's military ate, although there were more and more civilians as the months wore on. She wonderd if that was simply due to the refugees or due to the relaxed standards on the part of the marines. But being there gave her a good chance to pick up gossip.
Gaius Baltar didn't really care about her people, that's what frightened her the most about him (what frightened her at all, really). He talked an excellent game, and the words he said helped. They made sense. But Paulla had seen the look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. Contempt for them, for the way so many clung to him and asked him for guidance. As though he were a prophet who only believed in the profit of staying alive rather than this God that he claimed to speak for.
It was something she'd been noticing for ages: he'd won them support, won their cause more people, and yet he was in some ways nothing more than just a man. Just a good speaker.
Sometimes, Paulla thought about what they would have done if he had died that day in the head. If she hadn't been able to feel the power of God flow through her, and her hands and fists hadn't been enough to stop Charlie Connor when revenge was on the line (sometimes, she even wonderd if Connor was justified in what he wanted to do for the loss of his son).
Would her people be as vulnerable as they were to attack? The Sons of Ares had ignored them until Gaius' teachings began being broadcast. Adama's marines had ignored them until Baltar had pushed the issue, incurring random beatings and more than a few rapes as the marines took out their frustration, or allowed civiliians to. Paulla had seen more than one member of Adama's staff turn a blind eye to people worshipping the One God being harassed. Melea was one such woman who had survived a brutal assault (the marines had been brought up on charges that were dismissed due to expediency).
Paulla didn't entertain the idea of a mutiny. There was no way her people could run a ship like the Galactica.
No. What they needed was a voice in the government, a choice and a way to make laws that would be enforced. And if Gaius continued to gather more followers, they would swll their ranks and have clout. Eventually. Paulla knew that would still be an uphill battle: Laura Roslin wouldn't simply allow a group that didn't follow her religion to have a voice in the quorum. The woman was too set in her ways, too canny for that.
But Paulla could hope, and plan. One day, her people would be heard and they would have a choice in where they went and how resources were used.
Until then, she would simply have to listen and learn.
-=-
Candy had waited until the indicators told her the entire base star was open to the vacuum of space and then she closed the airlock. Not keying in the atmosphere, she unhooked herself from the wall and started down the hall, Jo behind her. They would sweep as many of the levels as they could, checking for survivors and stragglers. Boomer had told them to defend themselves, but otherwise not to kill unless they thought it was necessary. Candy had the feeling it was going to be necessary.
There were corpses littering the hallway around the hangar bay, and she and Jo exchanged a look before taking defensive positions to either side of the door. It wasn't as though either of them had combat training, but there was still caution to be had.
Stepping into the hangar, she looked around, seeing more bodies. There were no centurions on this level, which she was grateful for. Boomer wasn't sure they could trus them, not until they'd been able to take their inhibitors out (and even then, Candy wasn't sure that was a good idea). And the centurions wouldn't be susceptible to the lack of oxygen the way the rest of them were.
"This was too easy," Jo murmured, carefully sweeping the area with her weapon.
Candy agreed, but decided that saying it aloud would be a stupid idea. Movement at the far side made her freeze before scrambling into cover behind a raptor. "Did you see that? No one else is supposed to be on this level."
"I know." Jo was silent for a moment, then she nudged Candy, "I'll go around to the right and try to flush them out. You stay here and ambush them."
Not bothering to reply over their suit comms, Candy simply shifted so that she was covering the stretch of flooring where Jo would hopefully drive them and waited as the Eight slipped off, making her way from piece of cover to piece of cover until Candy couldn't see her anymore.
It seemed to take forever before a flight suit-clad Five dashed in front of Candy. She didn't fire at him, deciding that punching him would be more cathartic.
She tackled him, sending them both crashing to the deck. Candy had the upper hand in surprise and strength, and managed to hit him in the torso and neck several times before he managed to start fighting back. Unfortunately for him, one of her punches cracked his face-plate. Within seconds, he was seeping oxygen, the skin of his face turning blue and white as his air ran out on him. Not that she noticed until he stopped fighting back. And even then, she was still punching him with zeal until Jo stopped her.
"He's dead."
"What?" Candy actually looked at him, and realized he was limp between her legs. "Oh. Whoops."
Jo snickered, "I don't think that's really an oops, Candy. But whatever. Let's get the rest of this level cleared, and head for the command center. I'm worried about Boomer."
"You think she couldn't hack it?"
"Something like that."
-=-
chapter nine