Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was Gunn's shift to watch over Wolframite. With the Super taking over their shared block, Birhan felt confident leaving Gunn to it and taking a break. Not that she was planning on napping just yet. It had been some time since Ares had stopped by Wolramite's block, or received a report from Birhan and Gunn. Birhan didn't want to worry for nothing, but perhaps it was best to check in with the boss.

She caught a passing cadet, who recalled seeing Ares head in the direction of Uranophane's holding cell. Birhan thanked the senshi and made for Uranophane's block.

Their third captive... Birhan didn't know anything about her. She hadn't even seen the braided Nega agent before the start of Operation Rota. As far as Birhan knew, Uranophane might have been a rather worthless capture - well, apart from the BMC's belief that all information was good information. Maybe that was why Ares was visiting there now, to see if their unexpected extra was a useful source of information or not. Perhaps someone without a youma body part would break more easily?

Birhan had no problems entering into the block that Laocoon was running, though curious eyes followed her. There was no reason for Birhan to be here, after all. Despite being ISS, she wasn't even a Super Senshi yet. She felt rather out of place herself among the ISS, so it wasn't so surprising that others might think the same. That was fine. Birhan was used to ignoring others who thought she was out of place.

"Ares?" Birhan called as she moved further into the block. There was no answer.

When Birhan finally entered Uranophane's makeshift prison cell, it was to find it occupied solely by the captive. Birhan glanced around the room. "Not here, either," she muttered. It seemed that either the cadet she'd spoken to was mistaken, or Ares had been waylaid.

She was debating just leaving, but curiosity about the prisoner held her in place. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at Uranophane. "Nice hair. You are?"



Her goggles had been left on.

Uranophane had woken up initially to discover that she was in some unfamiliar location that reeked of mildew and must, the sounds of footsteps clacking and shuffling on concrete echoing from distances she couldn't quite gauge. She couldn't move. Her ankles had strained against a chafing something coiled around them when she tried; a thin metal bar warmed by her own body pressed itself discomfortingly into one of her heels. The cool, hard floor scraped somehow threateningly against her toes when she flexed and bent at them. She was barefoot.

Her boots were gone. Stagnant air was stirring itself around her fingers... her gloves were gone, too. Instead her circulation was just about being cut off by even more coils around her wrists, that had been tied so firmly her knuckles were forced to dig in to the unyielding steel of the back of the chair she had been sat on. The crooks of her elbows were aching from the strain of keeping her upright.

The familiar weight on her shoulders, that denoted her status and rank as Captain -- that was gone too, and in its place the dark fabric of her undershirt had also been torn away a bit to reveal patches of sun-starved skin. Even her belt had been removed. In every way imaginable Uranophane had been disarmed, up to the point where it had pretty much been overdone, and yet when she came to for the first time the world around her was cast in that familiar greenish tint in which her eyewear painted everything.

She was sore everywhere, and no amount of relaxing her muscles cured it. She was tired, and no matter how much she managed to nod off in her chair, she felt no more energized for it. From her current vantage point she'd since made out the short skirts, and sensed the density of power signatures all over the place. They seemed tireless. They seemed confident. They even seemed sort of organized. For the first several, glacial-paced hours of her incarceration, Uranophane had stared out at the scene that was before her -- the scene she had inadvertently become a part of -- with that eerily unchanging expression that full eye-coverage could provide. And in spite of the evidence that was clear all around her, from the meted pace of the shift changes to the very ropes holding her in place, there was still only one conclusion she could come to.

The senshi were damned stupid to think that they could kidnap an officer of the Negaverse and keep them here for long.

Uranophane would be out of here eventually. It would just take a bit of patience.

A new set of footsteps approached. She stared stonily ahead, as per the usual, the soft glow from the lenses illuminating the tops of her cheekbones and casting a bit on the floor. It was only when Birhan spoke that her chin lifted, her gaze flicked upward momentarily to size up the new senshi, and for a moment she was silent as she returned her attention to the empty space immediately in front of her.

"Emma Goldman," she said.




Birhan blinked. Okaaay, she'd meant Negaverse name, not real life... It took the redhead a moment to realise that the prisoner was playing with her. Of course no one would give out their civilian identity, but apparently this one didn't even want to give out her alternate identity.

"Cute," Birhan said flatly. Uncrossing her arms, she approached Uranophane. It was too bad the Negaverse didn't believe in name tags on their military uniforms. "That'll serve you real well here."

Either Laocoon was not doing his job with the captive, or he hadn't bothered to see her yet. Birhan hoped she wasn't the first 'visitor'. She was well aware that she wasn't as dread-inspiring as Ares or Gunn. And while she'd had no problems roughing up Wolframite, that was payback for the attempt on her starseed. Birhan didn't even know this girl - she had no real reason to want to get information out of her.

But as the first representative of the Blood Moon Court, she had a reputation to enforce. "Try again. If you'd like any water, that is. You've been here for several hours now. Even an... enhanced being," what a PC way of saying a senshi or a Negaverse agent, "should be feeling the effects by now."

Not that Birhan expected the captive to give in, even if she was thirsty or hungry. The Negaverse liked to think it was tougher than that. Birhan would be rather disappointed if it really was that easy.



Under the cover of her eyewear, Uranophane's murky eyes narrowed into displeased little slits, and there was another moment of long silence as she appraised her captor. In spite of the defiant stance, the senshi in front of her didn't seem all too impressive. Hell, she wasn't even a super. The Negaverse Captain was being talked down to by a damned rookie. It was insulting. Her chin twitched a tiny bit as she clenched her jaw and ground her teeth; a small sign that whatever was going on in her head, she was at least properly displeased with her situation.

The edges of the chair were sinking unpleasantly against her biceps with every breath she slowly released. It was impossible to breathe comfortably. Even if she managed to wriggle her limbs into a position that was more tolerable, the relief only lasted for a minute or two until her neck or her back started to ache.

And even beyond that, there was how the scent and grit of dust kept stirring itself in her lungs. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and tasted like a hollowed-out and rotten version of the coffee she'd had before she had gone out with Wolframite and Tanzanite.

Several hours had been more than long enough for the prospect of a drink of water to make her ears perk --

No.

Not from her. She's lying.

Uranophane stood (well, sat) her ground. Craning up her neck to keep an eye on the Birhan as she moved towards her, she offered, "Forgot to brush your teeth this morning? Because I'm certainly feeling the effects of that."



A corner of Birhan's lips curved upwards at Uranophane's response. It might have been a smile born of humour. Or it might be a smirk born of the knowledge that such an answer couldn't be allowed to pass without retaliation.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said. She crossed behind Uranophane, pausing behind the Nega captive's back. Out of Uranophane's line of sight, but close enough to ensure the Nega was intensely aware of Birhan's presence. An enemy, directly at her back. No way to know what Birhan was doing, or planned to do. Birhan remained in place for over a minute, watching closely to see how the prisoner responded. One hand reached out. Taking a grip on Uranophane's eyewear, she pulled them up from the Captain's eyes to rest atop her head. No sense in letting the captive have any sense of security. Nothing would remain hidden from the BMC, not even Uranophane's eyes.

That done, Birhan moved on. Further behind the chair that held Uranophane in place, was a shelf at the back of the room. A jug of water and a glass were some of the items that were held there. Even though she was unable to see it, there was no way Uranophane would miss the sound of pouring liquid.

Birhan walked back around to stand in front of the Captain. She sipped from the glass of water. "Aaah, so refreshing," she sighed happily. The glass of water always remained where Uranophane could see it. "I haven't had a drink in almost an hour... so nice. But you, well, I guess you want to go longer without?"

The smile dropped from Birhan's face. She didn't bother to glare or physically intimidate. Face blank, she simply asked, "Are you sure you don't want to try again?"



Uranophane's muscles began to tense as the senshi disappeared from her line of vision, the only thing marking her presence being the footsteps that clacked ever-so-slowly away from where her eyes could track the b***h. The only sounds for a while were the footsteps, and then the sound of the senshi breathing from an uncomfortable distance behind her -- causing the cadence of her own breath to pitch up and then fail at steadying itself while she waited for something, anything, to happen.

In spite of herself, her arms jerked in protest as one of Birhan's hands abruptly wrapped around one of the lenses protecting her eyes. She was rewarded with the sensation of the rope chafing into her wrists, a new set of bruises on her arms from the chair rattling and bucking against her efforts, and the room being filled with a sudden and unpleasant swath of colors when the goggles were finally torn away.

Without the tint of acid-green washing out the details of her surroundings, Uranophane got a full taste of just how dank and unfamiliar the room was. Even during patrols, she had only visited places like this in passing, and from a considerable distance. Everything was water-stained concrete and rusted metal constructs she couldn't recognize, all defining the interior of a building that had long since been abandoned and no one in their right mind was visiting anymore. And with the goggles no longer interfering with her peripheral vision, she could no longer hold any weak illusions about there being some magic escape route just within her reach. There were no windows, no hints of sunlight edging around any doors or corridors. No convenient bright red EXIT signs. No guarantees that breaking free of the damned chair and making a mad dash for the next hallway would do her any good.

Her murky green eyes, now exposed, narrowed immediately at her captor, her jaw and eyebrows setting the rest of her features into a defiant sternness befitting of a junkyard guard dog. In response to the circumstances she had found herself forced into, she chose to look angry -- because then, at the very least, she wouldn't look weak.

A tiny, warped reflection of herself had manifested on Birhan's water glass, glaring right back at her. The senshi's talking barely registered in her ears. Uranophane was occupied by a tiny drop of condensation rolling down past one of her double's exposed shoulders, that clung to the edge of the glass for a while before finally falling to the floor. She blinked reflexively, her tongue working into the roof of her mouth as the drop splattered and sank into the concrete... and then she gritted her teeth, looking back up at the senshi holding the glass.

"You get an A for effort," she said. "However, I think you'll have to find some other uses for your mouth if you want to further your acting career."



"Hmmm, perhaps," Birhan murmured. She hadn't expected the Negaverse captive to play nice, but Uranophane was mouthier than Birhan liked. The Captain was putting up a strong front. But Birhan had seen the other female's reactions when Birhan was looming behind her - the increased respiration, the jumping when Birhan finally moved. Uranophane wasn't as unaffected by this as she was trying to make Birhan believe.

But talking wasn't going to bring any kind of result.

Birhan stepped towards Uranophane. Her left hand still held the glass of water. Her right made a fist. She shot a smile at Uranophane before calmly backhanding her across the face. The glass remained unspilled.

"That was me being nice," she said, lifting Uranophane's chin with the same hand. Her fists were her weakest weapon, after all. If she'd wanted to hurt Uranophane, Birhan would be kicking heads, not hitting them. "Remembered your name yet?"



The senshi was still being melodramatic. Uranophane could clearly see Birhan drawing back her hand, balling it into a fist, and it was entirely because she wanted her to. In response the Negaverser tempered the steel in her gaze, forcing her focus to the air straight in front of her. She could handle this. This was a first-level senshi. She had dealt with much worse in sparring matches with Obsidian during her combat training.

Regardless, the room still rattled around her when the hand hit her face, and her cheek stung and tingled and glowed an angry red after the backhand announced itself with an impressive smack! that bounded its way out of the room.

Uranophane's expression did not change much upon being hit. Apparently she was not at all impressed by Birhan's kindness. However, when those fingers returned to gently close around her chin, an overwhelming sensation of displeasure and annoyance began to rush across her nerves and spill over into her features. Her brow furrowed. Her scowl deepened. She was suddenly, uncontrollably, completely disgusted that someone she knew little and liked even less was touching her. In response, she jerked her head away from the hand -- and then, with a small snarl, moved to sink her teeth into it as hard as she could.




Birhan was regretting being nice. Actually, she was regretting being there at all. When Uranophane's teeth sunk into her hand, it was only force of will that kept Birhan from swearing. Even then, she couldn't hold it in entirely, a sharp hiss escaping.

A smash signaled the glass shattering on the floor. Birhan's freed hand struck fast, a jab to Uranophane's throat, into the hollow between collarbones. In the moment of breathlessness the hit caused, Birhan withdrew her captured hand.

She didn't step away, but did ensure her hands were no longer near the prisoner's face. Flexing the hand, she grunted as she took note of the red dots blooming on the white glove in the space between thumb and forefinger. The tendon complained loudly, earning a hiss as she clenched and unclenched it.

It seemed that Uranophane's bark was evenly matched by her bite. Birhan wasn't amused by the discovery. With a wordless shout, she twisted her body and lashed out with one foot. The kick connected with Uranophane's kneecap. In her anger, Birhan didn't pull her strength as she had done previously.




Ares melted into the room, oozing out of the mirror like a larva wriggling free of its pod in a beehive. There was no telling how long she had been watching. The senshi was known to lurk in mirrors before stepping forward. She listened to conversations, observed training sessions in secret, and otherwise extended the time she spent in mirrorspace by as much as possible. It was not a subversive strategy. Ares had simply elected herself the eyes and ears of the Blood Moon; she wanted the most honest feedback possible.

The truth was that Ares had an appointment with Captain Uranophane. It had been a particularly frustrating day with Tanzanite, and after the third report from Gaia and Laocoon about how difficult Uranophane was being, Ares had had enough.

Coming through the mirror, the Captain of the Blood Moon gently touched at Birhan's shoulder, guiding the promising senshi to the side. She offered no explanation for her presence, which was strange. Ares was good about telling the ISS what she was up to when it came to information-gathering. No sooner had Birhan stepped to the side and Ares was on the offensive.

The hard cuff of her bracers slammed into Uranophane's jaw, followed by a blow to the gut. Hard-toed boots scooped under the legs of the chair and tipped it backwards. It cracked against the ground, hard metal slamming into cold concrete. Ares' eyes remained flat, her lips empty. She asked no questions as she began to kick Uranophane in the gut, one blow after the other, and for no apparent purpose.




The jab to her throat made the captive Captain cough thickly and release the finger, but that bit of pain was nothing compared to the foot driving into her knee. Birhan's shoe had driven itself precisely in the space below her kneecap -- and with her leg as tightly bound to the chair as it was, there was no place for her reflexes to go. Her calf spasmed into the metal bar, the muscles cramping themselves in their struggle, and Uranophane's teeth clamped around the newfound nothingness between them as she struggled to suppress her reactions.

So focused she was on retaining her composure, that she didn't register the second set of footsteps coming her way. One moment she was gritting her teeth against the sharp unpleasantness running up and down her leg -- the next, her teeth were clattering and her neck was snapped to the side, and before she could piece together that she'd just been hit in the face, her mouth was forced back open as all the air in her lungs was punched out of them.

She saw the face. Sailor Ares. There had been stories. She had been at that basketball court. Uranophane couldn't make out heads or tails what she was thinking in the brief instant between seeing her and being sent sailing towards the floor. The chair did not do much to break her fall, and the impact of her head against the concrete made the room sway and sparkle a little. Instinctively, she began trying to struggle away from her captor, but the end result was only that she made a mess out of her hands: the floor was like sandpaper to her knuckles, and they burned and itched at the skin tearing apart and the trickling of blood.

All Uranophane could do was try to brace herself as Ares drove her foot into her gut, over and over. That didn't do much good either.

Gray eyes remained flat.

Ares stopped kicking and instead flicked the chair over to the other side with a toss of her arm. She was deadly silent throughout the assault. The toe of her boot found its purchase in the Captain's gut. She dropped to a knee, taking a thick handful of Uranophane's hair.

For a moment, she yanked the girl's head toward her so that they were mere inches apart. It seemed as though she might say something, offer some tiny glimmer of hope to encourage the Captain to spill. Ares was full of words within these walls, wasn't she? But no. No words. Instead, she curled her fist tighter and slammed it into the girl's forehead.

For fifteen minutes, Ares beat Uranophane. She stopped only when the skin on her knuckle split open, standing briskly to clean the wound with an antiseptic wipe. Her eyes met Birhan's, cold and hard. "Sailor," she said sharply. "There can be no mercy." Slowly, she polished her bleeding knuckle, back turned to the downed Captain.

Uranophane did not care whether or not Ares had kept on going for fifteen minutes. Or thirty, or five, or ten. It could have been just one minute. It could have been an entire day. The core of her concern was the fact that she could not tell the difference. Each blow to her face was meted out like the motion of a second hand on a clock she couldn't see, but she was past counting them: they just came with the silent knowledge that another would follow shortly after. And another after that. And another.

And another, to the point where it finally stopping was more of a shock than the pain.

She could hear them talking, but it was just a short handful of syllables, one voice barely distinguishable from another. There were a lot of 'o' vowels, like something bobbing in the ocean. A few seconds later, the Captain had fallen unconscious, her body sagging around the binds and the chair.

The rolling in Birhan's stomach only intensified over the course of the beating. Her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly, the only sign of ill-ease she consciously allowed herself. There must have been something about the tightness of her face that was unconsciously transmitting her feelings to Ares, though, as the leader of the Blood Moon Court turned to give Birhan a 'pep talk'.

Behind Ares, Uranophane lay on the floor, still tied to the fallen chair. She'd passed out shortly before the beatings stopped. Birhan was relieved for the Captain, who had escaped the torture for a short time. Until she realised she was feeling sympathy for the enemy, and tried to firmly stomp on it.

Ares' words helped. Somewhat. It was on the tip of her tongue to reply, 'But you weren't even asking any questions!' but then Ares' hand was on Birhan's shoulder and the touch made her snap to attention. Personal attention from Ares often had the that effect, flicking a switch that turned Birhan's full attention to her leader, calling up all of Birhan's loyalty to Ares and the BMC.

"Yes, of course I want to make the world safe," she agreed. The statement that this would never happen as long as the Negaverse was around was a fact they all knew. It was the Blood Moon Court's touchstone, their unshakable, incontrovertible belief. It barely ranked saying aloud, it was so obvious to them all.

The reassurance that Ares had built up in Birhan fell away as Ares commanded that Birhan remain here and try again with Uranophane. Birhan's stomach fell. She'd only come here looking for Ares - the interrogation session hadn't been part of the plan at all. Birhan had been hoping to return back to guarding Wolframite, a much simpler and less confusing task given her personal hatred for him. Her mouth opened to question the order, when Ares added, "If you can't do it on your own, find Nemesis or Gunn or even myself. We can do it for you."

Fists and jaw clenched. Violet eyes narrowed. Birhan inhaled a shaky breath, the words a blow to her pride. She didn't need to be babysat by other senshi - Nemesis wasn't even part of the ISS. Birhan shouldn't require help from a regular Mercenary. Fine. Birhan would have to prove to Ares that she wasn't a failure, that she could handle this herself.

As Ares disappeared into the mirror, Birhan crossed the room to where the Nega Captain lay. She righted the chair and ensured the bonds were still tight. Filling a cup of water, she drained it in one swallow. Filling it again, she walked over to Uranophane and threw it in the Captain's face.

When Uranophane's eyes opened, she was greeted by a hard-faced Birhan. Cracking her knuckles, Birhan said simply, "Name."

It was time to begin all over again.



[FIN]