Somnambulance [Retconned]

[Toaster]

Hours passed, Olivia sitting on the floor, propped up against and bound to the table leg. Soon, fatigue and weariness returned, but sleep evaded her. Shoulders stiff and arms numb, Olivia sat quietly, staring blankly ahead, waiting.

Her thoughts wandered, revisiting the events of the past days in her mind. The gruesome killings on Fontana, the brutal murder of Doctor Macintosh, the savage slaughter on Kreuzberg. The confusion and the fear, the stress and the helplessness. The hurried farewells from her friends and the flight from Liberty. The mere memories were enough to sap her of what little energy she had left.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia shut her eyes, trying to focus on ... nothing. She exhaled slowly, paused, and inhaled again. Then she did the same again, over and over, until her mind began to clear of the confused jumble of thoughts. Finally, even her sore, tired body relaxed, and a light sleep overcame her.

A buzz and a click woke her from her shallow slumber and her eyes shot open at the sound of the metallic cuffs around her hands and feet falling to the steel floor. Olivia leaned forward, rolling her stiff shoulders and massaging her wrists. She glanced around the room, finding herself still alone. Cautiously, careful not to overexert her tired legs, she climbed to her feet and turned towards the table at her back. The black crate still stood atop it, untouched since the stranger had left her behind.

Interesting thing to be lugging around, she remembered him saying, and a sudden fear overcame her. Hastily, she pressed her thumb against the container's lock, waiting impatiently for it the scanner to read her print and open the pressure-sealed lid. With a hiss, it unlocked and the mercenary flung it open, revealing the crate's content. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the crystal's blue light washed over her, her soreness and fatigue evaporating like mist in the sun. A smile crept over her face as she bathed in the orb's radiance and she reached inside the container, letting her hands run over the ball's smooth, strangely warm surface. A sense of immense calm poured into her mind, cleansing her of the worries and fears she had been struggling with, soothing her thoughts until she could barely feel anything at all, until she-

Olivia frowned and looked past the crystal. A sheet of paper rested underneath the glowing orb, one that she hadn't placed there herself. Torn loose from the crystal's influence, she pulled the paper out from under it and turned away from the crate. In the blue light, she read.

Miss Olivia Sable,

I write this letter with great regret and even greater hurry, for I am afraid that I have little time before we depart. You must have many questions, even more so than before, but I am afraid most of them must wait. One, however, I will answer.

You were chosen for a great purpose. An experiment that, should it bare fruits, may bring about a revolution of the human experience. I fear the details must remain hidden, for the success of this endeavor requires utmost secrecy. Do know, however, that the pain and confusion you endure now serves the betterment of mankind and that all you have yet to suffer will ultimately prove to be a small price to pay for man's salvation.

Or so I hope. I do wish there was another way, one that did not force this torture upon you. For failing to prevent it, I sincerely apologize.

Knowing that you will find little of it on your journeys ahead, I nevertheless wish you good luck.


- - -


Tiredly, Olivia stepped out of the room into a narrow, dimly lit corridor, the black crate in her arms pressed tightly against her chest. The air reeked of rusted metal and oil and she knew that she was still aboard the Junker station. She turned and strode down the hallway, hoping to find her way to the installation's hangar. How long she had been here was a mystery to her, one that she supposed didn't matter much. There were other, more worrying questions on her mind.

An experiment, she thought to herself. A revolution of the human experience. It made little sense to her and, instead of answering her questions, only raised more.

Man's salvation. Salvation from what? How? Why was she, a random merc, involved? What did it have to do with her migraines? The blackouts? The murders? Balancing the crate on one arm, she reached up with one hand and gingerly touched her right temple. A fresh scar ran vertically across it, an inch or so in length. It was still painful to the touch. Frowning, she walked down the winding corridors, passing by a handful of salvagers who, to her relief, paid her no heed, and shook her head. You must have many questions.

Yeah. Now I do. But they would have to wait. She had more pressing matters to figure out.

She needed a ship. She needed gear. She needed to contact her friends to let them know she was still alive and - relatively - well. She needed to find out who the stranger in the cloak was, who had written the letter, who was responsible for what was happening, what was even happening, how she could-

Relax. Her mind raced, pounding against her skull. Olivia drew in a deep breath, calming herself. One step at a time, she reminded herself.

Equipment and a ship. That was what she needed first.

Finally, the corridor opened up into the hangar, its deck still littered with discarded scrap, freshly salvaged wrecks, and a handful of vessels that looked like they might be spaceworthy. A craft, half obscured in a shadowy corner, the green shape of which reminded her of Damien's Eagle, caught her attention. She strode towards the ship, seeking out the handful of mechanics who were busy servicing it with fuel, spare parts, and paint.

One step at a time.

---

Olivia Sable