trans_9 | Here's the deal these days: They know exactly who we are. They know exactly where we live.

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Here's the deal these days: They know exactly who we are. They know exactly where we live.

Cybil is currently talking with Jaime Reyes about the possibility of hacking the ship's systems. Just a normal day on the meatship, a normal conversation in one of the cold zones, where there are no working sensors, about getting the hell OFF the ship, or turning the big bitch around.

"Do you think we could have our resident tech nerds build something to bridge the gap from technological to the more organic parts of her systems?"

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Jaime grins at him instead, body limp from pain and his inability to cling to consciousness well, knowing that what he's about to do might get him shot, but as he's likely getting shot anyway, it's still better for him to say than beg.

It's the kind of thing that you say because you know it's better for the person you care about to hear you be strong.

"Rot in hell, Yeerk."

"You first."

The Sub-Visser shoved Jaime to the floor on his back.

"If I didn't have a ship to take over, I'd make this last longer. I could make it last ages. Oh well. There's probably a Brenda or two on this ship, she'll have to do."

He pointed the Dracon beam at Jaime's head.

"It seems like I should have some witty quip for this, but honestly? You're not worth anything more than 'die'."

He squeezed the trigger. Point blank range. No way Jaime could survive it.

And then...

...His hand twitched. Violently.

And the Dracon beam burned a hole in the floor next to Jaime's head instead of through it.

The Sub-Visser howled in rage.

"Stop fighting me, Francisco! You're not going to win!"

"He doesn't have to win!" says Jaime, tackling Paco, and knocking the Dracon beam from his hand. He manages to wrench his arms behind his back, and the scarab had the suit secrete a sort of glue (you really don't want to know from what) to act as an adhesive to bind his hands. He does his feet for good measure.

"All he had to do," says Jaime, yanking Paco to his knees, "was save me. And you just did, Paco. You saved me. And more importantly, you've made it clear you're still in there. Now I'm going to save you."

He isn't going to try. He's going to just do it.

The Sub-Visser spat in Jaime's face.

"Oh he's in here all right," he said, baring his teeth in a grin. The situation was...less than optimal. And disgusting. And it certainly didn't help that the host was crowing at him, gloating and cheering on his best friend. But he had a plan.

"Too bad for you there's no way to get me out without killing him!"

A lie, of course. But Jaime wouldn't know that.

Your lies mean nothing.

"I'll find a way," says Jaime, wiping his face and patting Paco down for any more weapons. He'll drag him along to stash him somewhere. He'll gag him too. Somewhere out of the way and safe, and when he's helped clear up the ship, he'll come back for him and figure everything out.

"So whether you're telling the truth or lying about there being no way to stop you doesn't matter. If you know what he knows, you know just how screwed you are right now, and he's probably laughing at you for it."

Was this going to be a speech about the power of determination and friendship? Blech.

"It's not going to work, Reyes. You're not going to get me out of here. And the longer you leave me in here, the longer I have to torture him." The Sub-Visser smiled, slow and cruel. "I can play his memories back like a movie. His thoughts. His fantasies. Anything that ever happened to him, I can play it back. Over. And over. And over. The kindest thing you could do for your friend right now is kill him."

He was saying this because he didn't believe for a second that Jaime had it in him to kill Paco. But if it ate at his thoughts, distracted him, worried him...well, so much the better.

Yeah, nope. He's going to do what Paco needs for him to do right now--and that is to get down to business.

That same adhesive goes over Paco's mouth, as Jaime rolls his eyes.

"One, I'm not going to let you wind me up when the most important thing is kicking the butts of you and your sluggy cronies," he says, and he tests out his slightly-damaged wings and takes to the air, dragging Paco with him.

"Two? He's strong enough. That's why he's my best friend. Whatever memories that you pull up? He's still got the ones that made me think that about him."

Okay, flight is working, even if it's wobbly and he's hurt. Blue gunk is spreading over the edges of the busted armor, where it's starting to re-knit carapace and heal the damaged flesh underneath.

"Now, let's see where I can stash you for a while."

"Mmff!"

Ohh, the Sub-Visser was going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. And he was going to make Jaime watch him kill his parents and his little sister.

Just as soon as he got out of his bonds.

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Here's the deal these days: They know exactly who we are. They know exactly where we live.

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