Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch12 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 12/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: "..."
Things Lost in the Fire
12. Complications
They stood in the hut in unison, a steady front that appeared impenetrable, yet was a simple illusion. Mira, Carter and Lucas each put in their best effort to project an image of efficiency, unwavering dedication. They all knew how much was riding on this meeting with their employer and how they didn't exactly have the best news to present. So when the question was asked, tension quickly crept into the air and held them all captive for a fleeting moment.
"Where are we with the calculations?" The pale hologram questioned them, his authority intact even in this grainy pixel form.
Sebastian Cross - the intermediate chosen to communicate between them and their employer - was intimidating close up, a ruthless figure that seemed to have the nose for weakness. He had a forgettable face, the kind that was usually connected to family men, trustworthy people. He had a chiseled jaw, dimples emerged when he smiled and his sand brown hair looked freshly cut. Neatly combed hair, a clean shave and youthful appearance helped him sell this image to others as well.
A man of civilization, of the future, should've appeared harmless next to the three survivors, these hunters. Yet standing there in his business suit, holding form as he addressed them, they could all see he was a tad edgier than normally, almost predatory. The company man was awake and watching them all, ready to jump at the slightest mistake. It didn't exactly make them any more confident.
Lucas stepped up, pushing back the emotions that sought for an opening, a crack in his façade to burst though. "We have a delay," he announced coolly, staring back at the hologram. He tried to keep his face unreadable, but something escaped him, perhaps residue from watching his father crush his hopes again.
"Nathaniel Taylor caught our spy at Terra Nova and with her the finished calculations. He destroyed the hard copy," he explained, his disdain very much present in his talk.
Mira and Carter didn't react; it was all agreed upon, a necessary precaution to protect them all. They knew their place all too well and had taken the time to harden themselves. Because no matter what they had no place showing weakness and disarray in front of this man.
Sebastian flinched visibly, his expression melting into disappointment. His hand brushed against his loose tie, a subconscious move, which showered how bothered this information made him. "How?" he asked. Excitement had drained from his voice; it was listless.
"It has been taken care of," Lucas assured, trying his best to appear charming and self-assured. The last thing he needed was anyone looking into the details of this screw up. "We need to focus on damage control instead," he then suggested.
"Lucas will need some time to get the calculations out and reconcile them," Mira stepped in to explain, acting like Lucas had her full support. She didn't bow her head before anyone, nor shiver as their associate's gaze fell on her. She faced it headstrong.
"How long?" Sebastian inquired, shifting his attention back to Lucas and almost ignoring Mira's noble save.
"At least a couple of weeks," Lucas threw in an estimate, knowing it wasn't an easy thing to take in. He was confident in his ability to duplicate his work at least now that he knew he'd been on the right track. All he needed was some peace and quiet, a place to gather his thoughts and a console to work with.
"I see…," Sebastian responded, disappearing in deep thought for a moment. "And Taylor knows about the plan now, doesn't he?"
"My father thinks he destroyed everything. He doesn't understand that he can't just take it from me, not that easily," Lucas barked with cruelness. It was always the same when he mentioned his father, it changed his entire act, brought forth a bitter, cold side of him.
"He'll be distracted by the arrival of the Eleventh Pilgrimage," Carter noted, speaking for the first time. He rarely contributed to these conferences, but saw the pressing need this time. He knew a lot was riding on this, including his future and Mira's. He knew Lucas didn't care how he destroyed his father, but their motivations were different; they fought for a future, a chance at something better.
There was something sinister in the way Sebastian took in Carter's comment, almost like he'd been hoping someone would mention the latest pilgrimage. He settled his hand in the pocket of his jacket at an angle that seemed awkward for his hand, whilst his confidence returned in the form of a crooked smile.
"Which is why I'll be sending you some back-up, some fresh blood if you may, along them," he informed them, catching all three off-guard.
They hadn't planned for it, which is why their reactions finally seemed convincing to their one man audience. Mira was nearly left gaping with her mouth open, Carter's easygoing pose was disrupted and Lucas dismissed his earlier submissive and charming attitude completely.
"Who?" Lucas asked, his voice ringing hollow, a sudden trace of uncertainty visible. Something was building at the base of his spine, a primal reaction to lay everything to waste around them.
"Your numbers are growing thin, and you clearly need some assistance in this task. I'm sending someone, who will help you get a clearer perspective, a new point of view to things," Sebastian explained fluently, clearly having given this some thought before-hand. He was convincing, good at spinning this like it was a gesture of caring, trust.
It was clear that he was talking about something else entirely though. Distrust, although mild, was taking root. Did he fear they were compromised, growing too accustomed to the stalemate they'd been in for the past three years? Or was it a hunch that they were all too suave in their talk, working together for an unseen goal?
Mira took control as she felt Lucas' patience wavering beside her. "Good, we can use the help," she assured diplomatically, whilst attempting to keep everyone still with the power of her mind. Surely they weren't sending soldiers, but replacements, she thought bitterly.
Their host greeted Mira's approval with a smug smile. "I will arrange for them to come through with the rest and then quietly part ways soon after. We will have another discussion after you have been properly acquainted."
"We will have better news by then," Lucas responded, slightly frustrated. He even smiled back, knowing the facades were useless. This was a vote of distrust, and he didn't take kindly to it.
"I would like to have a few words with Mira now. Alone," Sebastian requested, marking the cue for Lucas and Carter to leave. Both followed this request without a fight, exiting the hut and leaving Mira alone. She didn't mind as there was barely anything she couldn't handle.
"Now tell me the truth about this delay," he asked, feeling strangely distrusting of her colleagues, especially Lucas Taylor. The spoiled genius wasn't normally the type to cause trouble, as his hatred for his father tended to fuel him passionately. Not this time. This time Lucas had been almost agreeable.
Mira's eyes narrowed, she couldn't help it. She didn't particularly like this man, and even Lucas had been able to push himself up her list of dislikes lately, so the sudden sneakiness bothered her.
"They caught our spy. She had the calculations with her," Mira noted dryly, repeating the truths they had agreed upon. Lucas had insisted on sticking with the bare bones of the story, because everything around them was harmful slow-moving poison that would corrode them.
"Which means you no longer have eyes on the inside?" He looked at her with a concerned frown. Of course once their assets were threatened, it invited concern. Not when Mira had buried her people, delivered messages to their families, asked this man to arrange their business; no, that was meaningless when compared to the loss of potential profits.
"Yes, unfortunately so," she sighed, resting her hand on her hips, fatigue catching with her. It had been a long day to spend in dread of this moment, this interrogation.
Sebastian shifted, actually taking a few steps closer, which only made his image larger. "And in your estimation, could've Lucas prevented this?"He asked softly, appealing to her, searching for weakness.
"No," she responded without hesitation, knowing how fear would numb her tongue if she gave it room to grow.
He responded with a quiet nod, settling for this for now. Mira had been faithful; although he could tell something was going on, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, at least yet. Again, he fixed his tie.
"The man I'm sending will have to evaluate that. Do you understand?" He finally concluded with a meaningful stare. Are you with us, or with him?
"With perfect clarity," Mira responded. She watched him move out of view and then the hologram to die. It was only then that the hopelessness took root. They were not going to talk their way out of this one, she realized.
Lucas and Carter waited outside. Lucas had leaned over the rail, eyes upon the camp site. It was twilight already, and the noises from the jungle drowned the noises of the Sixers. He searched for her, wondering if she was done with her task already, if she was waiting. He couldn't help but stay away for now; this was a problem that needed to be dealt with or there would be consequences for all of them.
"How far do you think they'll go?" Carter asked curiously, grimness taking root in him.
They had had certain privileges here that he didn't think a new superior would tolerate. The operation resembled less and less a military force and more and more a tribe every day. There were kids around, and the adults were divided into warriors and workers in a hierarchy that had kept them alive. Mira had allowed this order of business, allowed them to mingle and develop comradeship, which sometimes went deeper than that.
"As far as it takes," Lucas responded, "As I would."
It didn't sit well with Carter. Being stuck here was bad enough without having someone else calling the shots, their only aim being profit. He'd worked hard with Mira to build this place from nothing. Terra Nova might've had shelter, fields, technology and the comforts of the future, but this was their home. He knew the clean air and lush forests had been confusing and frightening at first to many. They had overcome these fears though and learned to live here, respecting the nature that was long gone in 2149.
He also knew of the quiet whispers and what ifs that circled. What if we stayed? What if we didn't go back? How can you go back to the future after this, after knowing it's all gone?
It was a vacation, a beautiful dream that endured only because of their continued failures. They could rest here, knowing their issues were far off in the future. They could breathe easily, at least most of them. Mira was one of the few, who had a stake in the future, a goal that couldn't be bought or bribed, and that is why Carter respected her so.
"You'd go back?" Carter frowned, genuinely astonished with this conclusion. "Back to 2149? A dying world?"
Lucas found it strange that Carter was suddenly opening up to him, making questions, acting friendly. He straightened himself and turned to Mira's second in command equally surprised. What was so strange about desiring a better life in the future? Yet he stopped to think it through, a second being enough to remind him that he wasn't alone anymore. There was Skye to consider, their future together.
He could've bought himself a private resort that lacked nothing with the money they were paying him. It would've been enough to support them and their hypothetical offspring for a lifetime of wealth. But that painful sensation in his chest reminded him she would never leave. Skye wouldn't watch him burn Terra Nova to ashes, even when the past could save the future, and then come away with him. And suddenly he realized it startled him, forced him to rethink everything.
Carter was about to delve deeper into the question when Mira appeared at the doorway, cocking her head at them to re-enter. Both men gave up their conversation and proceed to follow her invitation as if nothing had happened. Once inside, Mira let the cloth that hung by the doorway fall down again to block the view to outsiders.
"We have a problem," she said without delay, her eyebrows knitting together.
Carter picked up on her tone immediately, alert and ready to be commanded. He trusted she knew what needed to be done. "Just say the word," he breathed huskily, almost too eager to act. He wasn't good with words, so he did the work whenever he could.
Lucas was rubbing his face with his hands. Tension was all over him, begging for attention. "He didn't buy it, did he?" he snorted, an urge to kick something already clawing at his insides. Mira shook her head and sat down disappointed, which prompted Lucas to kick the nearest object, a stool, in his rage.
"They're sending an operative, someone who will dig out the truth. And they will consider her a liability," Mira put her thoughts to words, her usual snarkiness gone, replaced by a bitter spell. She cast her eyes on Lucas, watched his heavy breathing, all those visible signs of duress.
"What are we going to do Lucas?" she asked honestly, slipping into her memories for a bit.
Your comrades abandoned you here to die. The question remains, what will you do?
Lucas had been crude and possessed a flaring temper even then, but to her surprise he'd picked her up, saved her life. She'd healed, returned to Terra Nova, claiming to have survived a terrible accident. And when the time had come, she'd made sure she was the one holding the cards for the Sixers, not the men who'd left her to die.
"How long until the pilgrimage?" Lucas countered Mira's words, counting days, hoping for time. It had been their plan to get the gate going both ways by then and return in the chaos, strike then and there. Lucas just couldn't keep up with the dates. Sunsets and sunrises melted into one, days became weeks. It wasn't something he could grasp, not when his work consumed his mind.
"Little less than a week," Carter responded, quite used to being the person who needed to remember these things. He eyed Mira from his eye corner, feeling uneasy about the shift in her behavior, about her worry. He knew she had a lot more at stake here and felt sorry for her. She seemed awfully quiet, as if weighing her options now, or looking back at something important.
"They'll consider us all a liability," Lucas noted with annoyance, truly alarming his companions. Her ran his hand through his unkempt hair, trying to tame it, to force it still, but it fought against his efforts and fell right back the way it'd been before - Just another part of him that refused to listen to sense nowadays.
Mira snorted, sounding suddenly just like herself, "But you're the only that can't be replaced."
She was looking right at Lucas, pricking him with her accusation to gain his attention. He didn't want to answer her, as much was readable from his guilty expression. Lucas hadn't truly considered the consequences of his own actions, of foolishly rushing after Skye.
"Trust me Mira," Lucas sighed, "I had just gotten used to you. I have no desire of tolerating yet another person, whose only goal is making my life more difficult."
Carter hid his grin, relieved to hear them go at it like they always did. It was a good sign.
"Good," Mira responded with exaggerated dislike, "Then maybe you can get your job done this time, before any of us get hurt."
Their mockery of a friendship was becoming almost endearing to watch.
At first she'd simply walked. The boots had felt good, supported her walking even when she was beginning to tire. She'd taken in everything she could, observed and recorded it in her mind, tried to reconcile the pieces in her memory. This wasn't the cruel camp of savages she was used to though; Skye couldn't understand how something could be so different in different circumstances. The change baffled her; she began to consider that perhaps it was simply herself that was changing, not the Sixers.
She walked in on a group that was hauling supplies across the camp and offered to help. Despite her reputation and age the easy tasks always needed a helper. And two minutes later she knew all their names, and felt that muffled sensation in her chest ease up a little. Strangers became acquaintances in the hours she circled amongst them, talking, working and trying her best to understand.
So what's your story? A simple phrase became something she would use to open conversation, to ease them into spending time with her. After a couple of stories, she started having trouble remembering - not that they all even agreed to talk to her but some did. The circumstances varied, but the essence remained the same: terrible fates, desperation, and poverty. People were driven here with a promise of a new life, a second chance they had no way of obtaining without signing up for the company's payroll. None of them mentioned it by name, of course. They sought to protect their benefactor, and she understood why.
Once her wandering started to take its toll, she took a break to get the rest of her things from Hicks. Skye also took the chance to inform the medic of Mira's earlier words and realized Hicks wasn't opposed to the idea. It helped empower her, give her a feeling things were going to work out. And when Skye popped into Lucas' hut a little later, noticing it was empty, she felt like she could stay there, learn to live with this. She left the clothes to a corner, organized them to a neat pile before she took off again.
As the evening darkened, she found herself wandering at ground level, searching. Most of the Sixers had retreated inside their huts except for the guards and the occasional wanderers like her. Skye followed her instincts, absorbing the scenery that already looked more threatening in the black, and she found herself drawn to a camp fire by the outskirts of the camp.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, trying to wave to the person sitting by the fire alone. He didn't react to her at first, but eventually he tore his eyes from the fire, rising up. Skye stopped right on her tracks, like something had just slammed against her. Her cheerfulness was traded with bewilderment; her hands were looking for something to hold onto, eventually settling on her waist.
"Hey Skye," the man greeted her, his face lit only by the orange hue of the flames. He appeared friendly, despite the fact that they had never been friends.
"Curran," Skye finally spoke, glancing around her to ensure they were alone, as she walked closer to him. Furrows gathered at her forehead, everything about her betraying nervousness. "I didn't expect to find you here."
He saw a girl, someone branded traitor just as he had been. A charming young woman, who'd always joked with the soldiers, went along in their parties, breathing new life into the tired charades. Learning she'd been a spy had been a small shock, something he hadn't truly had a chance to deal with yet. The rumors around the camp were quite ugly; he'd had trouble believing everything and still did even with her standing right in front of him.
"Look who's talking," he grinned at her, surprising her with the honestly warm welcome.
It was working, Skye deduced, keeping up her act. She was good at this, no use pretending it wasn't so. She'd asked for directions earlier, a hint of where she might find him. All it had taken was some walking around and a suitable chance to walk up to him like it was one big accident. And when the target was someone like Curran - a remorseless killer - she didn't even feel as bad about it.
Skye let out a giggle, felt it bubble in her throat, a reminder of the honest laughter she'd once had. Curran couldn't tell the difference, and neither had her friends, but she suspected Lucas would've known.
He laughed with her, this awkward moment stretching between the two outcasts.
"I can't believe he just banished you like that," Skye finally said, feigning support.
She saw her words sink into him, how she got him to straighten a bit, bask in this unexpected solidarity. She remembered all too well what he was like: arrogant, easily maneuvered, self-important, good at telling stories of his feats, impressionable. Curran was the worst kind of soldier, the kind that was too hung on his own survival. He would never jump in to save someone else at his own expense: Her stark opposite.
"Well, Taylor did what he thought was best," Curran responded, sounding a little too okay with it.
"Really? You're ok with being forced here? With the Sixers?" she made a face of disbelief, lowering her voice. By now she was on the other side of the camp fire, enjoying the warmth on her face. The fire remained between them, giving her at least some distance, a measure of safety.
Curran responded by casting a gaze on her. He eyed her from head to toe before answering, "You don't seem to mind."
Skye had to keep herself from drawing in a deep breath. She'd hoped he'd be too absorbed by flattery, a sign of interest, to question her motives. Of course it had been unrealistic to think such. She pressed her lips together, scratching her arm a bit self-consciously. Her eyes avoided him.
"I didn't have much of a chance. I mean my mom wasn't going to make it, and Taylor wasn't going to let me stay. I didn't want to die in the jungle alone," she explained, forcing down a fake sob, which he obviously caught, his hand raising to calm her down. Curran's face softened at the sight of her weakness, just like she'd expected.
"It's ok, Skye, I get it," he said, in an understanding manner. "We have a lot in common. We've both made mistakes."
The only difference was, she hadn't done any of it for herself. She'd done what she had to for others, to save lives. He'd just wanted to wriggle out of his debts by killing a friend - all over a god damn card game.
"Well, it's good to see you're alright," she nodded back at him, preparing to retreat just as he took some steps closer, halting her leaving. Skye glanced at him questioningly, a mask of innocence and inexperience projected on her face.
"I heard you're with Lucas Taylor," he tested the waters, speaking Lucas' name like it was something revered and vile at the same time. He didn't know how to feel about the man, but he knew he couldn't stomach the idea of Skye being with someone like him. With the whispers of this man, his temperament, his grudging attentions, going around Curran worried over her.
Her first impulse was to say it like it was, rub the details in Curran's face, and crush any hope he might have of them being friends here. Then she remembered the mission, set her eyes on the goal again. Skye shrugged as if uncomfortable with Curran's inclination.
"He's kinda like a brother to me," she told him. "We're both Taylor's unwanted children, if you know what I mean?"
And she looked at him with clear eyes, no doubt in sight. To accuse her of lying wouldn't have crossed his mind; even as she struggled internally, none of it was reflected externally. Curran found himself smiling again at her, manipulated into a false sense of connecting, which was exactly what she wanted him to feel.
"I thought…," he smiled, shrugging off his suspicions. "That's not what they're saying," he then explained.
"Lucas is very protective, but a complete gentleman. You have nothing to worry about," she assured him, keeping a light conversational tone, even when her voice wanted to betray her. Just saying his name was overwhelming, and when she couldn't say it with the appreciation she felt, it was worse.
Curran's eyes were set over her shoulder though, which piqued Skye's interest as well and she turned around, praying for something to free her from this. She needed to prepare a little more, to practice and find her confidence. It's not like she was winning his trust with one talk, one visit. It had to be a gradual process. She realized it was Carter looking at him from a distance, his whole stance speaking a warning. It wasn't entirely clear which one of them the warning was aimed at though.
"Sorry I…," Skye's voice trailed off for a bit, "I'm really exhausted."
He nodded at her with patience, apprehension. "Of course. You know I'm not going anywhere."
Yes, she was painfully aware of what she was getting herself into. The Sixers were shunning him, even if they'd taken him in. No wonder he was jumping at the chance of being her friend.
"I'm around if you want to remember old times, or just need to get away for a moment," he offered sincerely.
For a moment there, Skye could see signs of the Curran she'd once known, his gentler side. He was still handsome albeit covered in dirt and unshaven. Too bad she knew a few months in the jungle weren't changing him for what he was inside: a coward and a liar.
"I'll keep that in mind," she winked at him and took off a little too quick, settling to make it look like she was trying to reach Carter before he walked away. Curran watched her go, eyes clashing with Carter's before the older Sixer turned his attention to Skye.
Skye stopped when she reached Carter, exhaling loudly, feeling the act escape her lungs in that violent action.
"Be careful with that one," Carter told her, his voice direct, a little strung. He didn't say anything else just went about his business and left her standing there. Skye didn't need to be reminded, albeit Carter's worry was appreciated.
She pushed everything off her mind: Carter's warning, Curran's attempts at being friendly, and just went on. She carried onwards to the rope lift, yanked at the rope and got pulled up a moment later. This time she actually enjoyed the short feel of weightlessness, and thought of thanking the guards that lifted her once she got up. Her legs walked her towards Lucas' - no, their - hut like she was programmed or on auto-pilot.
And that nervousness returned, settling in her stomach. The fearless girl feared seeing her lover more than talking to murderers, confessing her sins or familiarizing herself with strangers. How absurd.
She saw the faint light of his lantern pushing outside from the doorway. It confirmed her suspicion that he was home. She pulled the covers away from the door, stepping inside boldly. To her amazement he'd actually cleaned. The papers all over were gone, piled neatly over his desk. Lucas was sitting by it, deep in thought, writing something.
"How did it go?" he asked her, seemingly uncaring. "It was ok," she said, hiding the details. Her lies could hurt him, and she didn't wish for that, not now.
"And your meeting?" she inquired in return, closing in on him. "It was interesting," he replied with equal evasiveness. She didn't need to know about the complications, about the danger lurking ahead, at least not yet.
She brushed his shoulder with her fingers tentatively, seeking for permission to come close, feeling the sadness when he didn't seem to react to her the way he should've. Every little touch was electric, made fire run across her body. Couldn't he at least recognize that?
Lucas rose, leaving his work for the night and facing her. "Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked her with genuine concern, remembering past mistakes. He was haunted by them, by his blindness.
"You mean Curran?" she confirmed. "He's an asshole, but I suppose I can tolerate him." She then quipped, surprising him with her harsh commentary. Lucas actually responded with a snort, finding her contempt for her target a consolation.
Skye felt amazingly aware of his gaze, the way the silence landed and hung pregnant in the air, filled with promise. If he'd ignored her touch before, he was certainly feeling what she was now. She didn't know how she could be in the same room with him when there was so much left unsaid. Skye wasn't the type of person who could ignore pebble in her shoe, just brush away the irritation and pain, but for him she could try.
"Lucas," she spoke his name softly, exposing her intentions, her desire. He responded to the invitation in primal manner, such simple words pulling him asunder; all the yearning that had kept him sane whilst they'd been apart came crashing back, and was denied the same moment. This was not a good time for this, for clouding his senses. He needed to think of a way to keep them afloat in these deceptive waters.
Lucas moved, escaping her side. "You need rest, Bucket," he told her sweetly.
Her mind argued against these niceties though; it wasn't what she needed at all. He didn't quite get what happened, when she grabbed hold of his shirt, forcing him still next. Her hands were clasped around the fabric, her grip straining, as she claimed his eyes with hers.
"I'm so sick of this," she whispered weakly, alarming him.
"Can't we just skip the apologies and admit we both did wrong? Can't we just get to the part where you kiss me when you want to and don't hold back?"
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 12/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: "..."
Things Lost in the Fire
12. Complications
They stood in the hut in unison, a steady front that appeared impenetrable, yet was a simple illusion. Mira, Carter and Lucas each put in their best effort to project an image of efficiency, unwavering dedication. They all knew how much was riding on this meeting with their employer and how they didn't exactly have the best news to present. So when the question was asked, tension quickly crept into the air and held them all captive for a fleeting moment.
"Where are we with the calculations?" The pale hologram questioned them, his authority intact even in this grainy pixel form.
Sebastian Cross - the intermediate chosen to communicate between them and their employer - was intimidating close up, a ruthless figure that seemed to have the nose for weakness. He had a forgettable face, the kind that was usually connected to family men, trustworthy people. He had a chiseled jaw, dimples emerged when he smiled and his sand brown hair looked freshly cut. Neatly combed hair, a clean shave and youthful appearance helped him sell this image to others as well.
A man of civilization, of the future, should've appeared harmless next to the three survivors, these hunters. Yet standing there in his business suit, holding form as he addressed them, they could all see he was a tad edgier than normally, almost predatory. The company man was awake and watching them all, ready to jump at the slightest mistake. It didn't exactly make them any more confident.
Lucas stepped up, pushing back the emotions that sought for an opening, a crack in his façade to burst though. "We have a delay," he announced coolly, staring back at the hologram. He tried to keep his face unreadable, but something escaped him, perhaps residue from watching his father crush his hopes again.
"Nathaniel Taylor caught our spy at Terra Nova and with her the finished calculations. He destroyed the hard copy," he explained, his disdain very much present in his talk.
Mira and Carter didn't react; it was all agreed upon, a necessary precaution to protect them all. They knew their place all too well and had taken the time to harden themselves. Because no matter what they had no place showing weakness and disarray in front of this man.
Sebastian flinched visibly, his expression melting into disappointment. His hand brushed against his loose tie, a subconscious move, which showered how bothered this information made him. "How?" he asked. Excitement had drained from his voice; it was listless.
"It has been taken care of," Lucas assured, trying his best to appear charming and self-assured. The last thing he needed was anyone looking into the details of this screw up. "We need to focus on damage control instead," he then suggested.
"Lucas will need some time to get the calculations out and reconcile them," Mira stepped in to explain, acting like Lucas had her full support. She didn't bow her head before anyone, nor shiver as their associate's gaze fell on her. She faced it headstrong.
"How long?" Sebastian inquired, shifting his attention back to Lucas and almost ignoring Mira's noble save.
"At least a couple of weeks," Lucas threw in an estimate, knowing it wasn't an easy thing to take in. He was confident in his ability to duplicate his work at least now that he knew he'd been on the right track. All he needed was some peace and quiet, a place to gather his thoughts and a console to work with.
"I see…," Sebastian responded, disappearing in deep thought for a moment. "And Taylor knows about the plan now, doesn't he?"
"My father thinks he destroyed everything. He doesn't understand that he can't just take it from me, not that easily," Lucas barked with cruelness. It was always the same when he mentioned his father, it changed his entire act, brought forth a bitter, cold side of him.
"He'll be distracted by the arrival of the Eleventh Pilgrimage," Carter noted, speaking for the first time. He rarely contributed to these conferences, but saw the pressing need this time. He knew a lot was riding on this, including his future and Mira's. He knew Lucas didn't care how he destroyed his father, but their motivations were different; they fought for a future, a chance at something better.
There was something sinister in the way Sebastian took in Carter's comment, almost like he'd been hoping someone would mention the latest pilgrimage. He settled his hand in the pocket of his jacket at an angle that seemed awkward for his hand, whilst his confidence returned in the form of a crooked smile.
"Which is why I'll be sending you some back-up, some fresh blood if you may, along them," he informed them, catching all three off-guard.
They hadn't planned for it, which is why their reactions finally seemed convincing to their one man audience. Mira was nearly left gaping with her mouth open, Carter's easygoing pose was disrupted and Lucas dismissed his earlier submissive and charming attitude completely.
"Who?" Lucas asked, his voice ringing hollow, a sudden trace of uncertainty visible. Something was building at the base of his spine, a primal reaction to lay everything to waste around them.
"Your numbers are growing thin, and you clearly need some assistance in this task. I'm sending someone, who will help you get a clearer perspective, a new point of view to things," Sebastian explained fluently, clearly having given this some thought before-hand. He was convincing, good at spinning this like it was a gesture of caring, trust.
It was clear that he was talking about something else entirely though. Distrust, although mild, was taking root. Did he fear they were compromised, growing too accustomed to the stalemate they'd been in for the past three years? Or was it a hunch that they were all too suave in their talk, working together for an unseen goal?
Mira took control as she felt Lucas' patience wavering beside her. "Good, we can use the help," she assured diplomatically, whilst attempting to keep everyone still with the power of her mind. Surely they weren't sending soldiers, but replacements, she thought bitterly.
Their host greeted Mira's approval with a smug smile. "I will arrange for them to come through with the rest and then quietly part ways soon after. We will have another discussion after you have been properly acquainted."
"We will have better news by then," Lucas responded, slightly frustrated. He even smiled back, knowing the facades were useless. This was a vote of distrust, and he didn't take kindly to it.
"I would like to have a few words with Mira now. Alone," Sebastian requested, marking the cue for Lucas and Carter to leave. Both followed this request without a fight, exiting the hut and leaving Mira alone. She didn't mind as there was barely anything she couldn't handle.
"Now tell me the truth about this delay," he asked, feeling strangely distrusting of her colleagues, especially Lucas Taylor. The spoiled genius wasn't normally the type to cause trouble, as his hatred for his father tended to fuel him passionately. Not this time. This time Lucas had been almost agreeable.
Mira's eyes narrowed, she couldn't help it. She didn't particularly like this man, and even Lucas had been able to push himself up her list of dislikes lately, so the sudden sneakiness bothered her.
"They caught our spy. She had the calculations with her," Mira noted dryly, repeating the truths they had agreed upon. Lucas had insisted on sticking with the bare bones of the story, because everything around them was harmful slow-moving poison that would corrode them.
"Which means you no longer have eyes on the inside?" He looked at her with a concerned frown. Of course once their assets were threatened, it invited concern. Not when Mira had buried her people, delivered messages to their families, asked this man to arrange their business; no, that was meaningless when compared to the loss of potential profits.
"Yes, unfortunately so," she sighed, resting her hand on her hips, fatigue catching with her. It had been a long day to spend in dread of this moment, this interrogation.
Sebastian shifted, actually taking a few steps closer, which only made his image larger. "And in your estimation, could've Lucas prevented this?"He asked softly, appealing to her, searching for weakness.
"No," she responded without hesitation, knowing how fear would numb her tongue if she gave it room to grow.
He responded with a quiet nod, settling for this for now. Mira had been faithful; although he could tell something was going on, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, at least yet. Again, he fixed his tie.
"The man I'm sending will have to evaluate that. Do you understand?" He finally concluded with a meaningful stare. Are you with us, or with him?
"With perfect clarity," Mira responded. She watched him move out of view and then the hologram to die. It was only then that the hopelessness took root. They were not going to talk their way out of this one, she realized.
Lucas and Carter waited outside. Lucas had leaned over the rail, eyes upon the camp site. It was twilight already, and the noises from the jungle drowned the noises of the Sixers. He searched for her, wondering if she was done with her task already, if she was waiting. He couldn't help but stay away for now; this was a problem that needed to be dealt with or there would be consequences for all of them.
"How far do you think they'll go?" Carter asked curiously, grimness taking root in him.
They had had certain privileges here that he didn't think a new superior would tolerate. The operation resembled less and less a military force and more and more a tribe every day. There were kids around, and the adults were divided into warriors and workers in a hierarchy that had kept them alive. Mira had allowed this order of business, allowed them to mingle and develop comradeship, which sometimes went deeper than that.
"As far as it takes," Lucas responded, "As I would."
It didn't sit well with Carter. Being stuck here was bad enough without having someone else calling the shots, their only aim being profit. He'd worked hard with Mira to build this place from nothing. Terra Nova might've had shelter, fields, technology and the comforts of the future, but this was their home. He knew the clean air and lush forests had been confusing and frightening at first to many. They had overcome these fears though and learned to live here, respecting the nature that was long gone in 2149.
He also knew of the quiet whispers and what ifs that circled. What if we stayed? What if we didn't go back? How can you go back to the future after this, after knowing it's all gone?
It was a vacation, a beautiful dream that endured only because of their continued failures. They could rest here, knowing their issues were far off in the future. They could breathe easily, at least most of them. Mira was one of the few, who had a stake in the future, a goal that couldn't be bought or bribed, and that is why Carter respected her so.
"You'd go back?" Carter frowned, genuinely astonished with this conclusion. "Back to 2149? A dying world?"
Lucas found it strange that Carter was suddenly opening up to him, making questions, acting friendly. He straightened himself and turned to Mira's second in command equally surprised. What was so strange about desiring a better life in the future? Yet he stopped to think it through, a second being enough to remind him that he wasn't alone anymore. There was Skye to consider, their future together.
He could've bought himself a private resort that lacked nothing with the money they were paying him. It would've been enough to support them and their hypothetical offspring for a lifetime of wealth. But that painful sensation in his chest reminded him she would never leave. Skye wouldn't watch him burn Terra Nova to ashes, even when the past could save the future, and then come away with him. And suddenly he realized it startled him, forced him to rethink everything.
Carter was about to delve deeper into the question when Mira appeared at the doorway, cocking her head at them to re-enter. Both men gave up their conversation and proceed to follow her invitation as if nothing had happened. Once inside, Mira let the cloth that hung by the doorway fall down again to block the view to outsiders.
"We have a problem," she said without delay, her eyebrows knitting together.
Carter picked up on her tone immediately, alert and ready to be commanded. He trusted she knew what needed to be done. "Just say the word," he breathed huskily, almost too eager to act. He wasn't good with words, so he did the work whenever he could.
Lucas was rubbing his face with his hands. Tension was all over him, begging for attention. "He didn't buy it, did he?" he snorted, an urge to kick something already clawing at his insides. Mira shook her head and sat down disappointed, which prompted Lucas to kick the nearest object, a stool, in his rage.
"They're sending an operative, someone who will dig out the truth. And they will consider her a liability," Mira put her thoughts to words, her usual snarkiness gone, replaced by a bitter spell. She cast her eyes on Lucas, watched his heavy breathing, all those visible signs of duress.
"What are we going to do Lucas?" she asked honestly, slipping into her memories for a bit.
Your comrades abandoned you here to die. The question remains, what will you do?
Lucas had been crude and possessed a flaring temper even then, but to her surprise he'd picked her up, saved her life. She'd healed, returned to Terra Nova, claiming to have survived a terrible accident. And when the time had come, she'd made sure she was the one holding the cards for the Sixers, not the men who'd left her to die.
"How long until the pilgrimage?" Lucas countered Mira's words, counting days, hoping for time. It had been their plan to get the gate going both ways by then and return in the chaos, strike then and there. Lucas just couldn't keep up with the dates. Sunsets and sunrises melted into one, days became weeks. It wasn't something he could grasp, not when his work consumed his mind.
"Little less than a week," Carter responded, quite used to being the person who needed to remember these things. He eyed Mira from his eye corner, feeling uneasy about the shift in her behavior, about her worry. He knew she had a lot more at stake here and felt sorry for her. She seemed awfully quiet, as if weighing her options now, or looking back at something important.
"They'll consider us all a liability," Lucas noted with annoyance, truly alarming his companions. Her ran his hand through his unkempt hair, trying to tame it, to force it still, but it fought against his efforts and fell right back the way it'd been before - Just another part of him that refused to listen to sense nowadays.
Mira snorted, sounding suddenly just like herself, "But you're the only that can't be replaced."
She was looking right at Lucas, pricking him with her accusation to gain his attention. He didn't want to answer her, as much was readable from his guilty expression. Lucas hadn't truly considered the consequences of his own actions, of foolishly rushing after Skye.
"Trust me Mira," Lucas sighed, "I had just gotten used to you. I have no desire of tolerating yet another person, whose only goal is making my life more difficult."
Carter hid his grin, relieved to hear them go at it like they always did. It was a good sign.
"Good," Mira responded with exaggerated dislike, "Then maybe you can get your job done this time, before any of us get hurt."
Their mockery of a friendship was becoming almost endearing to watch.
At first she'd simply walked. The boots had felt good, supported her walking even when she was beginning to tire. She'd taken in everything she could, observed and recorded it in her mind, tried to reconcile the pieces in her memory. This wasn't the cruel camp of savages she was used to though; Skye couldn't understand how something could be so different in different circumstances. The change baffled her; she began to consider that perhaps it was simply herself that was changing, not the Sixers.
She walked in on a group that was hauling supplies across the camp and offered to help. Despite her reputation and age the easy tasks always needed a helper. And two minutes later she knew all their names, and felt that muffled sensation in her chest ease up a little. Strangers became acquaintances in the hours she circled amongst them, talking, working and trying her best to understand.
So what's your story? A simple phrase became something she would use to open conversation, to ease them into spending time with her. After a couple of stories, she started having trouble remembering - not that they all even agreed to talk to her but some did. The circumstances varied, but the essence remained the same: terrible fates, desperation, and poverty. People were driven here with a promise of a new life, a second chance they had no way of obtaining without signing up for the company's payroll. None of them mentioned it by name, of course. They sought to protect their benefactor, and she understood why.
Once her wandering started to take its toll, she took a break to get the rest of her things from Hicks. Skye also took the chance to inform the medic of Mira's earlier words and realized Hicks wasn't opposed to the idea. It helped empower her, give her a feeling things were going to work out. And when Skye popped into Lucas' hut a little later, noticing it was empty, she felt like she could stay there, learn to live with this. She left the clothes to a corner, organized them to a neat pile before she took off again.
As the evening darkened, she found herself wandering at ground level, searching. Most of the Sixers had retreated inside their huts except for the guards and the occasional wanderers like her. Skye followed her instincts, absorbing the scenery that already looked more threatening in the black, and she found herself drawn to a camp fire by the outskirts of the camp.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, trying to wave to the person sitting by the fire alone. He didn't react to her at first, but eventually he tore his eyes from the fire, rising up. Skye stopped right on her tracks, like something had just slammed against her. Her cheerfulness was traded with bewilderment; her hands were looking for something to hold onto, eventually settling on her waist.
"Hey Skye," the man greeted her, his face lit only by the orange hue of the flames. He appeared friendly, despite the fact that they had never been friends.
"Curran," Skye finally spoke, glancing around her to ensure they were alone, as she walked closer to him. Furrows gathered at her forehead, everything about her betraying nervousness. "I didn't expect to find you here."
He saw a girl, someone branded traitor just as he had been. A charming young woman, who'd always joked with the soldiers, went along in their parties, breathing new life into the tired charades. Learning she'd been a spy had been a small shock, something he hadn't truly had a chance to deal with yet. The rumors around the camp were quite ugly; he'd had trouble believing everything and still did even with her standing right in front of him.
"Look who's talking," he grinned at her, surprising her with the honestly warm welcome.
It was working, Skye deduced, keeping up her act. She was good at this, no use pretending it wasn't so. She'd asked for directions earlier, a hint of where she might find him. All it had taken was some walking around and a suitable chance to walk up to him like it was one big accident. And when the target was someone like Curran - a remorseless killer - she didn't even feel as bad about it.
Skye let out a giggle, felt it bubble in her throat, a reminder of the honest laughter she'd once had. Curran couldn't tell the difference, and neither had her friends, but she suspected Lucas would've known.
He laughed with her, this awkward moment stretching between the two outcasts.
"I can't believe he just banished you like that," Skye finally said, feigning support.
She saw her words sink into him, how she got him to straighten a bit, bask in this unexpected solidarity. She remembered all too well what he was like: arrogant, easily maneuvered, self-important, good at telling stories of his feats, impressionable. Curran was the worst kind of soldier, the kind that was too hung on his own survival. He would never jump in to save someone else at his own expense: Her stark opposite.
"Well, Taylor did what he thought was best," Curran responded, sounding a little too okay with it.
"Really? You're ok with being forced here? With the Sixers?" she made a face of disbelief, lowering her voice. By now she was on the other side of the camp fire, enjoying the warmth on her face. The fire remained between them, giving her at least some distance, a measure of safety.
Curran responded by casting a gaze on her. He eyed her from head to toe before answering, "You don't seem to mind."
Skye had to keep herself from drawing in a deep breath. She'd hoped he'd be too absorbed by flattery, a sign of interest, to question her motives. Of course it had been unrealistic to think such. She pressed her lips together, scratching her arm a bit self-consciously. Her eyes avoided him.
"I didn't have much of a chance. I mean my mom wasn't going to make it, and Taylor wasn't going to let me stay. I didn't want to die in the jungle alone," she explained, forcing down a fake sob, which he obviously caught, his hand raising to calm her down. Curran's face softened at the sight of her weakness, just like she'd expected.
"It's ok, Skye, I get it," he said, in an understanding manner. "We have a lot in common. We've both made mistakes."
The only difference was, she hadn't done any of it for herself. She'd done what she had to for others, to save lives. He'd just wanted to wriggle out of his debts by killing a friend - all over a god damn card game.
"Well, it's good to see you're alright," she nodded back at him, preparing to retreat just as he took some steps closer, halting her leaving. Skye glanced at him questioningly, a mask of innocence and inexperience projected on her face.
"I heard you're with Lucas Taylor," he tested the waters, speaking Lucas' name like it was something revered and vile at the same time. He didn't know how to feel about the man, but he knew he couldn't stomach the idea of Skye being with someone like him. With the whispers of this man, his temperament, his grudging attentions, going around Curran worried over her.
Her first impulse was to say it like it was, rub the details in Curran's face, and crush any hope he might have of them being friends here. Then she remembered the mission, set her eyes on the goal again. Skye shrugged as if uncomfortable with Curran's inclination.
"He's kinda like a brother to me," she told him. "We're both Taylor's unwanted children, if you know what I mean?"
And she looked at him with clear eyes, no doubt in sight. To accuse her of lying wouldn't have crossed his mind; even as she struggled internally, none of it was reflected externally. Curran found himself smiling again at her, manipulated into a false sense of connecting, which was exactly what she wanted him to feel.
"I thought…," he smiled, shrugging off his suspicions. "That's not what they're saying," he then explained.
"Lucas is very protective, but a complete gentleman. You have nothing to worry about," she assured him, keeping a light conversational tone, even when her voice wanted to betray her. Just saying his name was overwhelming, and when she couldn't say it with the appreciation she felt, it was worse.
Curran's eyes were set over her shoulder though, which piqued Skye's interest as well and she turned around, praying for something to free her from this. She needed to prepare a little more, to practice and find her confidence. It's not like she was winning his trust with one talk, one visit. It had to be a gradual process. She realized it was Carter looking at him from a distance, his whole stance speaking a warning. It wasn't entirely clear which one of them the warning was aimed at though.
"Sorry I…," Skye's voice trailed off for a bit, "I'm really exhausted."
He nodded at her with patience, apprehension. "Of course. You know I'm not going anywhere."
Yes, she was painfully aware of what she was getting herself into. The Sixers were shunning him, even if they'd taken him in. No wonder he was jumping at the chance of being her friend.
"I'm around if you want to remember old times, or just need to get away for a moment," he offered sincerely.
For a moment there, Skye could see signs of the Curran she'd once known, his gentler side. He was still handsome albeit covered in dirt and unshaven. Too bad she knew a few months in the jungle weren't changing him for what he was inside: a coward and a liar.
"I'll keep that in mind," she winked at him and took off a little too quick, settling to make it look like she was trying to reach Carter before he walked away. Curran watched her go, eyes clashing with Carter's before the older Sixer turned his attention to Skye.
Skye stopped when she reached Carter, exhaling loudly, feeling the act escape her lungs in that violent action.
"Be careful with that one," Carter told her, his voice direct, a little strung. He didn't say anything else just went about his business and left her standing there. Skye didn't need to be reminded, albeit Carter's worry was appreciated.
She pushed everything off her mind: Carter's warning, Curran's attempts at being friendly, and just went on. She carried onwards to the rope lift, yanked at the rope and got pulled up a moment later. This time she actually enjoyed the short feel of weightlessness, and thought of thanking the guards that lifted her once she got up. Her legs walked her towards Lucas' - no, their - hut like she was programmed or on auto-pilot.
And that nervousness returned, settling in her stomach. The fearless girl feared seeing her lover more than talking to murderers, confessing her sins or familiarizing herself with strangers. How absurd.
She saw the faint light of his lantern pushing outside from the doorway. It confirmed her suspicion that he was home. She pulled the covers away from the door, stepping inside boldly. To her amazement he'd actually cleaned. The papers all over were gone, piled neatly over his desk. Lucas was sitting by it, deep in thought, writing something.
"How did it go?" he asked her, seemingly uncaring. "It was ok," she said, hiding the details. Her lies could hurt him, and she didn't wish for that, not now.
"And your meeting?" she inquired in return, closing in on him. "It was interesting," he replied with equal evasiveness. She didn't need to know about the complications, about the danger lurking ahead, at least not yet.
She brushed his shoulder with her fingers tentatively, seeking for permission to come close, feeling the sadness when he didn't seem to react to her the way he should've. Every little touch was electric, made fire run across her body. Couldn't he at least recognize that?
Lucas rose, leaving his work for the night and facing her. "Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked her with genuine concern, remembering past mistakes. He was haunted by them, by his blindness.
"You mean Curran?" she confirmed. "He's an asshole, but I suppose I can tolerate him." She then quipped, surprising him with her harsh commentary. Lucas actually responded with a snort, finding her contempt for her target a consolation.
Skye felt amazingly aware of his gaze, the way the silence landed and hung pregnant in the air, filled with promise. If he'd ignored her touch before, he was certainly feeling what she was now. She didn't know how she could be in the same room with him when there was so much left unsaid. Skye wasn't the type of person who could ignore pebble in her shoe, just brush away the irritation and pain, but for him she could try.
"Lucas," she spoke his name softly, exposing her intentions, her desire. He responded to the invitation in primal manner, such simple words pulling him asunder; all the yearning that had kept him sane whilst they'd been apart came crashing back, and was denied the same moment. This was not a good time for this, for clouding his senses. He needed to think of a way to keep them afloat in these deceptive waters.
Lucas moved, escaping her side. "You need rest, Bucket," he told her sweetly.
Her mind argued against these niceties though; it wasn't what she needed at all. He didn't quite get what happened, when she grabbed hold of his shirt, forcing him still next. Her hands were clasped around the fabric, her grip straining, as she claimed his eyes with hers.
"I'm so sick of this," she whispered weakly, alarming him.
"Can't we just skip the apologies and admit we both did wrong? Can't we just get to the part where you kiss me when you want to and don't hold back?"
TBC