Fate's Crucible

There were few certainties in life. But one of them was the fact that his brother could not be dead. And that certainty was what led to his presence here, orbiting an out of the way little dust ball of a planet. Crimson eyes with just a hint of sepia reflected back at their owner as he peered out through the small port window. Below, clouds scudded across the face of the planet, painting a deceptively tranquil picture. He felt restless and wondered if his companion felt the same way. Judging by her constant shifting, he would rather think that she did.

It had been almost three hundred years since he last saw his elder brother. They had kept in contact though, exchanging communications regularly for the purposes of dealing with matters both familial and financial. He'd seen to it that his brother's portfolio was in order and well managed, making sure that his modest personal fortune continued to grow. He had become worried when his brother missed their last scheduled meeting via comlink and when no contact had been forthcoming, he had taken the unusual step of sending a representative to the ship. It had been then that, to his dismay, he had learned that his brother was presumed dead.

He shook his head slightly, glancing over at his companion. Things would have been much easier if she had gotten into touch with him immediately following the loss of his brother, but it wasn't her fault. She hadn't known how or even whom to contact. Zankoku's overwhelming paranoia had assured that. Thus, two years passed while he'd gotten the appropriate paperwork and transportation arranged to meet with her.

What had followed was an intergalactic game of hopscotch as they attempted to track down his brother's body. As an unidentified murder victim, it seemed that his body had been shuffled from the hospital to the morgue, and then to the disposal unit. Fortunately, the disposal unit had been severely backed up, so they sent a large cargo of bodies out to other storage facilities. Two years turned to three, then five, then ten and still they were always a step behind.

Until now.

Twenty years and they were finally closing in on their goal. He gave his silk sleeves a light tug, checking his cufflinks, then glanced over at the silent female beside him. "Are you sure this is the correct planet?"

She turned her head slightly, one snow white brow arching. "Very. The last known transfer occurred here, which means they switched off the bodies. In which case, he would still be harbored here, pending transportation to his home planet." The corner of her mouth turned up in a slight sardonic smirk. "Which they cannot do, since no one seems to have ever heard of Suzueni, much less know where the hell it IS." She glanced over at him. "I don't even know that."

"Yes, well," he said a bit smugly. "Imagine that." Then he scowled slightly as the ship began re-entry, staring down at the planet below.

"And yes, Amir," she continued, just as if he hadn't interrupted her. "He's there."

His eyes lidded just a bit, looking thoughtful. "We shall see, Yami."

She merely shook her head , ivory hair brushing the back of her neck. She was anticipating trouble, which was why she wore the black body suit beneath her normal clothing. In her life, she'd learned that things seldom went exactly as planned, so it was best to plan for the worst. It was a way to keep from being surprised too often.

The ship made its' way through the soft swirls of clouds, toward the well lit landing pad on the ground below. It touched down easily, a soft hissing sound escaping as the vents opened, sending out used air and drawing in fresh. The compound was only a few hundred feet away, a lone guard stationed at the door. As it was pretty much the last stop on the route for the unfortunates brought here, there was a minimum staff. They had also made sure that they arrived at an off period as so not to encounter too much resistance.

Amir rose from his seat after releasing the straps, straightening his tailored suit so that the wrinkles would fall out of it. Then he strode for the opening hatch, leaving Yami to follow behind him. He paused at the end of the ramp as she joined him, offering her his arm. The ground below was rough and uneven and the last thing either of them needed was for her to sprain an ankle in her stiletto heels.

He pulled out an ID as they approached the guard at the door, face cool and unreadable. "Amir Satsujin," he said as the guard blinked, then peered closely at the laminated holocard. "And this is my assistant, Sezuki. We're here to identify a body for court purposes." Yami waited patiently, silently assessing the guard.

"I'll have to send for the clerk," the guard finally replied. "Just a moment." He turned to the call box on the wall behind him, pressing the button.

Sloppy

, Yami thought to herself.

This fool is no challenge. I could kill him right now.

The guard spoke into the microphone in his native language, then waited for a reply, eyeing the somber pair with curious eyes. He turned when the speaker crackled back on, an irritable voice issuing from it. "What's going on?"

The guard pressed the send button again. "Got a couple of legal types out here, sir, looking for a body."

"What's the authorization?" the clerk asked, pausing in his paperwork.

"Uhm..." The guard paused, then rattled off the ID name and number. "Amir Satsujin, ID number – 654064KESH5649."

A low whistle came from the speaker. "DA types out there. Damn, alright. Send them on in."

The guard nodded. "Yessir." A buzzer sounded from inside and the doors unlocked. He reached over and pushed the door open, holding it. "You heard the man," he said with a grin. "Good luck."

Amir gave him a slight nod. "Thank you, sir." He allowed Yami to proceed him, then followed her in, the doors closing behind them, locks closing with a metallic click. Yami smirked slightly, taking in the surroundings. She had to admit, there were times when money and prestige DID have its advantages. He glanced over at her once the doors had closed. "Do you remember exactly what the wounds were?" he asked, keeping his voice low as they quickly headed down the corridor.

Yami shivered slightly as the cool tendrils of refrigerated air began to brush against them. "Oooh, don't worry, I remember," she said, lips pressing together tightly. "And if I ever see that bitch again, I'll rip out her reproductive organs and stuff them up her mate's ass."

Amir regarded her with a bit of amused condescension. "So violent..."

Her crimson eyes flicked toward him. "When you finally get laid, Amir, perhaps you'll feel the same," she retorted, giving him a little pat on his arm.

He chuckled softly, a faint smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. "I live in anticipation, my lady."

They both fell silent as they approached the desk at the end of the hall, where the clerk waited. "May I help you?" he asked, peering up at the pair through his glasses.

"Ah, yes," Amir replied. "I'm looking for a body that was brought in about..." He paused, glancing down at his small handcomp. "Six years ago on Transport 6987."

The clerk's eyebrow arched up. "That's kinda old, isn't it? How long's this case been going on?"

Amir smiled wryly. "Quite a while, my friend. Which locker should it be stored in?"

"Mmm... let me see," he muttered, flipping through his records. "Locker 665-A, near the back." He pulled a key from the drawer, offering it to them. "Good luck."

He nodded, taking the key and delicately handing it to Yami. "Thank you. This shouldn't take long." He turned on his heel and headed for the swinging doors with her right behind him, wisps of fog curling up around them as they passed through.

Yami looked around, quirking an eyebrow. "I see now why they call it a meat locker. Which drawer did he say it was?"

"665-A," was the clipped reply as he looked around, crimson eyes skimming the numbers on one side of the room, leaving the other to her. She nodded, stepping away from him to run her fingers over the drawers. A slight frown curved her mouth at the thought of someone being in one of these things for twenty years.

She shook her head lightly, then paused, running her fingers over the numbers on one of the drawers. She scraped at a bit of ice to check the number, then smirked. "Found it."

He turned sharply, striding over to join her. "Indeed," he murmured, peering at the number. "Let's hope this is the right one."

"Aye," she said softly, curling her fingers around the handle. He slid the key into the lock and turned it, listening to the chilled metal tumblers click. He then stepped back so that she could pull open the long drawer. They both took a deep breath at the sight of the still body, features covered with the requisite white sheet.

Amir knew that by nature he was not a nervous man, but there was a slightly queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he reached for the top of the sheet. He paused a moment, long silver fingers curling around the top, then he pulled it down. Yami watched impassively as it moved down, revealing features familiar to both of them. She knew it. She damned well knew it.

She reached over, ignoring the pallid gray skin, a bare hand resting on the side of his face, intently searching the blank features. Amir continued to pull down the sheet, checking the torso for signs of injuries. There are faint scars there, indicating where there had been serious wounds, but they were long since healed. He sighed in relief at that. Since his wounds had healed, there was a very good chance that his brother was only in a profound state of torpor.

"We have to get him out," he said softly. "The longer he stays here, the more his body will shut down."

Yami glanced over at him, eyes lidding. "You know this is going to be messy, right?" Her lips quirked in amusement at the look on his face.

"I don't care how you do it, Yami," he hissed. "Just get rid of the witnesses and deal with the records. I saw nothing."

She chuckled softly, something deadly in the sound. "That's why I love you, Amir," she said with a playful wink. Then she glanced down at the still face below. "I told you I'd be back," she whispered, brushing a hand over his cheek again. She then turned on a heel, smirking as she pulled out a pair of long and wickedly sharp daggers.

Ah yes

, she thought to herself as she walked out of the storage room,

it feels SO good to be back in business.

The clerk was the first to go, but that didn't mean he that he met his end quickly. While Amir was preparing his brother's body for transport, she was busy playing. This was providing the perfect opportunity for her to work some pent up ill feelings. She hadn't been in a good mood for quite a while, so she took full advantage of the situation.

She looked up with a smirk as he walked out, from where she was busily wiping out files from the system database. Amir raised an eyebrow at her handiwork, looking over the late clerk, who was laid out, spread-eagle on the tile floor. She'd carved quite the interesting design of slashes and incisions in his skin, the puddle of blood beneath the body growing ever wider as it bled out. "Tell me," he said, his tone wryly amused. "Do all your pastimes include the usage of blood?" He hefted the sheet wrapped body closer to his own, an eyebrow arching sardonically.

Yami looked up from the console with a wide grin, eyes fairly glowing. "The fun ones, at any rate," she replied, pressing the enter key.

Amir shook his head. "Let it be said that my brother never picks out the boring ones. Did you get the cameras?" he asked, every bit as calm as if he were reading legal briefs in his office.

"Of bloody course," she replied, giving him an arch look. "And destroyed the computer and got the tapes. I'm not stupid, Amir. I even inserted a worm virus into the system to eat up all the necessary data and fuck up the prerequisite programs."

"Mm, very interesting," he said, smirking as he walked calmly out through the main doors, carrying the body right past the security guard. "Yami, don't forget the other one."

"Godsdammit, Amir, you nag worse than an old woman," she snapped as she followed him out, clothing covered in blood. The guard stared at the both of them, stunned. She couldn't resist a grin at the moronic look on his face.

"What the...?" he stuttered, blinking.

"Hello, lover," Yami purred, walking right up to him. He gave her an incredulous look, fumbling for the sidearm at his hip. "That isn't necessary," she continued, draping her arms around his shoulders.

His eyes widened as he grabbed for her arms. "Who ARE you people??" he yelped, trying to get away from the obviously crazy female.

"We," she smirked, "are the last things you will ever see." Her arms tightened around his shoulders so that he couldn't pull away, even as she dug her sharp talons into his flesh. The guard yelped at that, struggling against her iron grip and she took advantage of his distraction to kiss him. Her fangs captured his tongue, and then sliced right through. He began to scream and she laughed, pushing him off and spitting out the bit of flesh. She then brought her knee up, right into his crotch, smirking as he doubled over with a pained gasp. She pushed him away, stepping back to pull out a dagger, still smirking as he tried to scuttle backwards from her. She walked forward, matching his pace, her free hand coming up to wipe blood from her chin.

With shaking hands, the guard managed to pull the stunner out of its holster, bringing it up toward her. She neatly sidestepped the weapon, whipping her dagger up and into his stomach, giving it a vicious sideways twist. He screamed again, dropping the weapon to grab for the dagger. She yanked it out, idly wiping it on his jacket as she ignored his attempts to keep his insides in place. She slid the weapon back into its sheath and turned, walking back toward the ship. "Ja," she tossed back casually. She smirked to herself, flicking her hair back over her shoulder as she reached the ramp. The guard would be dead shortly, what mattered to her now was already aboard the ship.

The guard stared at her in disbelief, then turned, lurching for the open doorway of the storage facility. The motion caught her attention and she turned.

Mm, no use in leaving loose ends

, she thought to herself. She raised the projectile weapon that she had swiped from the desk inside and raised it, taking careful aim. She pressed the trigger twice and smirked as the guard's body jerked at the impacts, flopping forward to hit the ground. He twitched a few times, then stilled, blood beginning to pool on the concrete beneath him.

"Finally," she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she tossed the gun to the ground. She strode up the ramp, slapping the button to close the hatch behind her. She then made her way to the cockpit, not surprised to find Amir already there. She sat down in the co-pilot's chair, fastening the straps.

"Took you long enough," he said, glancing over at her. "I've already secured him for take off." He fastened his own harness, beginning to seal the ship as the engines powered up.

"Oh, quit bitching," she said, tone amused. "You'd do the same if you were a psychopath or sociopath. It's fun." She leaned back in her chair, more than ready to leave.

"It's messy," he snapped. "And you DID take out both of them, and get rid of any records?"

"Of course, Amir," she replied, a bit of exasperation leaking into her voice. "Are you sure you weren't a female relative of mine in another life?"

"Well," he said, smoothing back an errant lock of ebony hair, smirking over at her. "At least the good looks stayed." He pushed his glasses back up onto his nose, then placed his hands on the controls, lifting the ship up off the landing pad and guiding it into the gentle cradle of space.

She regarded him wryly. "Mm, yes. And so did the bitchiness." A relieved sigh slipped out as they left the planet, the ochre orb receding to nothingness behind them. She leaned back in her seat, letting her mind wander for a moment, then turned her head, looking over at him. "That was rather anticlimactic, don't you think?"

He shrugged, unbuckling his restraints. "Yes and I'm glad of it. That means less press, which is good for all of us."

"Mm, true." She unfastened hers as well. "Did you get him set up?"

He nodded, checking their course. "Mmhmm. You may go see him if you wish. He's strapped down so that he wouldn't be flung every which way during lift-off."

"Right," she said, rising to her feet. "I'll go check on him, then take a shower."

"As you wish, Yami," he replied, attention already on some pending legal matters as he pulled up the appropriate files on the console. He didn't even notice when she walked out.

She shook her head lightly as she left, slinking down the hallway toward the small medic bay. She didn't bother to brighten the overhead lights as she entered, padding softly over to the occupied bed. She looked him over, relieved to see the color returning to his pallid face. She unbuckled the crash straps, checking the temperature on the heating blankets, then brushed a strand of hair back from his face. A grimace turned down the corners of her mouth, as she noticed that her finger left behind a smear of drying blood. She licked her finger, noticing a faint twitch as she quickly cleaned off the stain.

"You're not in the morgue any more," she said softly. "I don't know if you can hear me, but you're on a ship. You'll be fine." She brushed a finger over his cheek again. "I'll be back..." She stepped back, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, then turned and walked out of the medic bay to get her shower.

Amir set the ship on auto pilot, an ear flicking slightly at the sound of running water in the bathroom. He eased out of his chair, heading to his own room to change out of his suit. He came back out dressed in a vaguely mandarin style sleeveless shirt and a pair of loose pants, cinched at the waist with a black sash. Barefoot, he padded down the hall toward the medic bay, peering from the doorway at the still figure. He finally slipped in, walking over to place a hand on the side of the bed, regarding the somnambulant body with a mixture of regret and exasperation.

"How the hell do you get yourself into these messes," he murmured. "Over a woman, Zankoku. Of all things, a woman." He shook his head, sitting down in the chair beside the bed, reaching over to turn up the heat just a bit. The blanket shifted slightly as his brother's chest rose a bit and he noted this with relief. "I'm glad her faith, and mine, paid off. I would have been sorely pissed had you been seriously dead." He turned the heat up a few more clicks, not enough to burn but enough to warm him a bit faster. Then he sat back in his chair, watching as the sheet rose and fell again, this time a bit deeper. He smiled slightly at that, a mere upturning of his lips, watching as the other slowly started to come around.

Almost another hour passed before Zankoku began to show signs of consciousness. His pale lips parted as a ragged cough escaped and both of his rescuers regarded him intently. Yami, dressed in a red silk robe, stood beside Amir as they watched avidly. "He's coming to, slowly," was Amir's only comment.

"Good," she replied. Zankoku's lips moved and she leaned forward slightly, eyes slitted, trying to read them.

On the second try, a faint sound emerged. "...mir."

She looked over at the other male. "He's asking for you."

He nodded, leaning forward as well. "Yes, Zankoku?" He shifted slightly, moving to where his brother could see him if he opened his eyes. Yami leaned back, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Father..." His voice was hoarse and ragged from disuse, nothing like his normally smooth tones. "Saw th' coward... runnin' for th' back of th' lines..." He paused, coughing again. "Lost sight of him..." Amir blinked slowly at that, startled. "Did... Hsaaja find... his way back..." Another cough. "To th' stables...? Got... unseated... in th' last charge."