Rook

##The Compound

Rook never thought he'd be standing here again.

Draxin's old compound tucked away in the shit infested underbelly of the Republic, long since abandoned and left to rot under the rainfall. It was here that, all those years ago, he'd been a prisoner, drugged up and forced to fight and kill for his master's entertainment and profit margins. It was here he had spent the darkest years of his life, lost in the savara induced blood lust and the haze of sedatives. Here that he'd spilled so much blood in the name of a sick sport, and here that he'd finally ended it with spilling Draxin's blood instead.

It was surreal, seeing the old cages, all now wide open, the doors half off their hinges, old scars in the walls and floors from whatever struggle had erupted after he'd run away that night.

The story was still fragmented, but from what they'd managed to piece together, the syndicates had jumped at the chance to fill the power vacuum left behind, resulting in a long, bloody conflict. Eventually, the place was picked clean of assets and the old stooges either killed or poached with better employment offers or delusions of grandeur. It was empty now, just an old husk from an old life.

Rook's comm crackled. "Doing alright down there?" Doc's voice asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Rook replied. He wasn't really sure how he felt. The old memories dredged up, the suffering he and so many others had endured... But it was distant now.

"Ye had yer victory lap, then, big man?" Geck piped up next. "Ye've come a long way since ye last set foot on this armpit of a planet, aye?"

"Hmm." Rook had surprised even himself when he'd said he wanted to come back here. Even more when he'd insisted on going in alone at first. The Shrike had been near by, and the thought had just dawned on him out of nowhere. He thought he'd feel anxious or feel the old panic driven instincts start to creep back in. And sure, he did feel a little antsy, but... after the years of nightmares, flashbacks, and fighting for his health back... was he finally healed?

He took a few steps forward, and his scanner blipped. He looked down at it. A life sign.

"Reed, Geck," the big man rumbled into his comm, "...someone's here."

"What? How? Damn it, Rook, fall back. Geck, get in there and back him up." Reed ordered.

"Aye, On me way," Geck agreed.

Rook didn't answer. Retreating would be the smart thing to do here. But something in him made him step forward again. Something resolute that curled in his gut. That signal could be anyone. A gangster, a looter, a stray human... Maybe it was someone dangerous. Or maybe someone needed help. And if it was the latter... no one else was going to suffer in this place. Not as long as he was was around.

##Couch Potatoes

"Oh John! I want to go with you, but I... I... I just can't!"

"But why? Why, my love? We could run away now and be free forever!"

"It's the baby, John! It... it isn't yours! The real father is...!"

"Tell me, my love! Please tell me the truth!"

"Your evil twin brother Angelo!!"

The the melodramatic soap opera music blared through the Shrike's galley as the episode cliff hanger of 'Love In the Precinct' played out in all its badly written glory. Geck, who'd been slouched in the same lounging position in his chair with his feet up on the table for the past hour moved limply to take a lazy gulp from his beer bottle. "Brigid's blessed arse cheeks, that's the big twist they've been harpin' on all season?" he griped, then let out a small belch that reeked of alcohol and beef jerky. "We all coulda guessed it was Angelo, that wanker's been lurkin' in the backdrop like a Noirite's blackmail since the start. What'd ye think, Big Man?"

Rook finally glanced up from his careful needlework on one of his combat vests. He looked at the holovid, then back down at his project. "Sucks."

"Aye, that's what I'm sayin'. Shite writin', shite actin', shite bloody everythin," Geck agreed, then swiped the remote from the table and started the next episode.

The galley door slid open, and Pierce strode in, moving with clear intentions, but whatever those intentions were vaporized as soon as she set eyes on her crewmates vegetating in their seats as trashy music crooned through the holovid projector on the table. "Oh you've got to be kidding," she said, resting her hands on her hips. "Are you two goofballs seriously watching that dumpster fire of a series?"

"Aye," Geck replied, then touched the beer bottle to his lips again.

"Ugh. You're supposed to be rebels, you know. Not couch potatoes," Pierce scolded, but moved further into the galley, her initial reason for being there rekindling.

"I think ye mean 'chair potatoes', love. Not sure we even own a couch," Geck replied.

Pierce then turned her gaze to Rook. "Did he bribe you into watching this trash?"

The only answer she got was a shrug and a simple, "Nope."

"Oh don't stand there and pretend yer not the least bit invested in the molatov cocktail that is the affair between Officer Protagonist and his secretary What's-Her-Face," Geck said, finally sitting up straight. Or... straighter just to jab his finger in her direction "It's like watchin a couple Arixion pilots in trainin' after sabotagin' their thrusters. Their cruisers go rollin' through space like tires down a hill and ye just can't look away."

"...I've no idea what you're talking about."

The Shrike's ever helpful AI system flashed a messaged on one of the galley screens.

Helmsman Pierce watched the season 4 finale last week in her quarters. She cried.

Pierce's face turned a deep red. "You glitchy hunk of junk, I'll melt your circuits and recast them as lug nuts if you-"

"Ho-ho! Our ever-bossy Second Officer has her secrets, aye? No one can resist the lure of this oddly captivatin' blight on entertainment!" Geck exclaimed, laughing.

Pierce, face now red as a tomato, glared at both of them. "Ugh! Fine! Sit there and let your brains rot. the rest of us are going down to the planet. We spotted some structures that might be an old supply cache. Long shot, but worth checking out. In the meantime, why don't you try to do something useful and teach the newcomer a few things?"

Geck chuckled, then returned his attention to the terrible drama unfolding in front of him. "Aye, fine, Helmsman Bossy Pants, we'll babysit the newbie. And don't worry, we'll save the spoilers until after yer secret viewin' when ye get back and finish dotin' over yer flower collection."

Pierce glared at him. "I will punch you dead in the mouth, O'Riley."

"Lookin' forward to it, love!"

Rook only made a grunting noise of approval for a task he also barely registered. Pierce exhaled sharply and muttered something along the lines of "Lazy baboons..." as she took her leave.

"Right, well, suppose we should do what she says," Geck said, sitting up and stretching before holding down the button on the nearest comms panel to page their new guest. "Oi, new blood, are ye wantin' some company while the adults are off on away mission?"

##The Freighter

The Shrike had picked up the distress call that morning. It took an hour to reach its position, and when the HLA crew arrived, the ship was abandoned. No one answered hails, and no life signs had been detected. There was nothing to do but suit up and head over to have a look around.

So far, the freighter was as empty as scans showed, the escape pods mostly missing, but some of the cargo was still intact. No signs of any sign of danger.

As Geck and Rook ventured down another corridor, Geck kept his hand on his sidearm, but seemed to be anything but focused, yapping about the typical sort of nonsense only Geck was capable of dreaming up.

“A’right, hear me out,” he began, gesturing with his free hand. “Ye ever wonder what happens when a Shynite gets a sunburn? Do the pasty bastards turn into Scarlites? Shed like snakes?"

Pierce's exasperation over their comm link was palpable enough to slice. “Glad your brain is hard at work on the important questions. Would you please focus on not getting killed?"

"Aye, I'm lookin, love. Nothin' here so far but empty halls and nightmare fuel, but ye can't tell me yer not the least bit curious," Geck replied casually folding his arms behind his head.

Rook grunted. “Not really.”

“Oh, come on, both of ye are shuttin' me down now?” Geck sighed dramatically, putting his hand on his chest. “Alright, fine, ye killjoys. ...oi, ye think Arixions turn purple after too much sun?”

"Oh for- Geck, for the love of your grandmother's rolling pin...!" Pierce shot back.

Geck quickly recoiled, grabbing his pointed ears defensively. The same damn ears he'd had grafted on years ago for the sake of an undercover operation, but had never bothered to get rid of. "Ye don't have to be so snappy, Commander Bossypants! Ye leave me gran's cookware out o' it!"

Rook snorted. "You're an idiot," he said.

"Aye, perhaps, but at least I'm a handsome idiot."

They finally arrived at a door and Rook's scanner began pinging signals from the other side, the sound finally enough to jostle Geck from his indignant rambling.

"What's that yer gettin, big man?" he asked, peering over Rook's arm.

"Life signs," Rook replied, brow furrowed.

"Ye mean to say there's actually someone still alive on this rust bucket?" Geck tried the control panel beside the door, earning a red denial buzz. "Door's not workin."

"Careful, you two," Reed spoke up. "Could be someone needing help in there, or could be an ambush. Eyes open."

Rook stashed away scanner and nodded to his partner. "Behind me," he ordered. Geck backed up a few steps, holding his weapon at the ready while Rook began forcing the door.

##Amnesia

Rook re-read the note he'd found beside his bed.

'Rook: If you wake up and forget where you are, you are on the Shrike, a rebel ship. The people on board are your friends. You are safe here. Don't panic. If you need help, find Geck. His quarters are the next door over. Use the ship's computer to find him if he's not there.'

He breathed in steadily, trying to quell the unease that rolled around in his gut. The note was in his handwriting. It had to be real, meaning this had happened before. Enough times to warrant him leaving himself instructions.

Just moments ago, he's woke up finding himself... somewhere. Vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite grasp it. It must've been a space ship, just going by the slowly moving star field outside the view port. He wasn't a prisoner, the door was locked from inside, and the room he was in felt lived in. The boots on the floor meshed to his feet like he'd had them for years, the jacket hung on the back of the chair wore like an old companion.

The signs of familiarity were comforting, but he still couldn't recall a damn thing about any of it. Not clearly, anyway. It all felt stuck behind a wall of fog. Whoever Geck was -the name definitely rang a bell somewhere in his memory- that was who could help.

Rook set the note back down, laced his boots, and unlocked his door.

The corridor beyond was dim, lit only by path lights, but it was quiet. No guards, no one waiting ambush.

Geck's door was the next one over.

Rook hesitated before knocking, the paranoia from earlier creeping it's way back in. this might still be some elaborate trap. Some kind of mind game, it warned. But even if it was, what else could he do? Go back to his room and soak in anxiety? He'd written the note. There was little reason to believe it wasn't meant for this reason.

He finally knocked. Quietly at first. Then harder. No answer.

Rook sucked in another breath, this one more frantic. What else had the note said? Right, find him with the ship's computer if he wasn't there.

But before he could even begin to search for a way to interact with the computer, the door at the far end of the corridor hissed open and someone came through.