For once, he didn't feel bone chilled as they approached the storage facilities. His hand throbbed as they passed through the hall where he'd stupidly ripped open the piping earlier in the cycle. Cassio picked up on it and said, "Don't ever do that again."

Hemlock felt a smirk forming on his lips, "Are you starting to care about me?"

Cassio deadpanned his response without missing a beat, "No, the pipes don't deserve that kind of abuse. They're only doing their job, unlike you." The tone missed its mark, and didn't have all the sharp points it usually had. So Cassio was warming up.

They made it to a part of the sector that reached the freezing temperatures that gave the place its nickname. He shivered, watching his breathe become visible. Cassio paused and then held out an arm, raising his gun.

At the far end of the hall, Yngvir stood, wearing the same janitorial clothes he disappeared in. Hemlock stepped forward to speak, but Cassio pushed him behind his body. Hemlock stumbled, and peered over at Yngvir from behind Cassio's shoulder.

"Don't try to stop me Cassio." Yngvir's voice was different. It didn't have the same jovial confidence it usually had. It made the timbre foreign and unpleasant in Hemlock's opinion. He liked it better when Yngvir was making jokes and being carefree. Much better than this facsimile.

Cassio spread his legs into a stabler stance, holding up his gun. "Yngvir, step away from the door."

"Cassio," Yngvir warned, holding up his bare hands, as if that was going to do anything. Then Hemlock remembered Yngvir could control the force and he realized why Cassio was so on edge.

Hemlock still stepped out from behind Cassio though, Yngvir would listen to him. They'd spent years together. Too many to count. Together in that tiny room. "Yngvir? What are you doing? I've been worried! I thought you were dead!"

Yngvir did hesitate, letting one of his arms lower, but he kept them both trained on them. "Hemlock. What are you doing here?"

"Saving you!" Hemlocked pushed forward, holding out his arm. "What's going on Yngvir?"

Yngvir's eyes shifted, scanning him from top to bottom, but not in the usual way he looked people up and down. No, this was more defensive, like a cornered animal sizing up their competition. "So they got to you too."

"What?" Hemlock gestured to his clothing. "You mean this? I'm just borrowing it."

"Yeah, borrowing a psionic debilitator and a belt full of ecto-casts made specifically for Psys. Surely you know by now what I am." Yngvir's eyes slitted, as he raised his arms back up to lock on them.

Hemlock glanced down at his armaments. Rowan hadn't lied, but he hadn't told him everything. Like everyone else. He should have known. Hemlock shook his head, "I won't use them on you. You're my friend."

"Friend?" Yngvir made an ugly laugh that shot through his chest faster than a bullet. He knew that laugh well. The kind people make after making a joke out of someone, and the someone finally figuring out the joke. The kind he'd thought he'd developed thick skin against. But this attack was too close to his heart. It cut deep.

Before he could recuperate, Cassio made a choked noise, just as he felt the invisible hand grasping his throat. "They might have tricked me into thinking I was some pathetic nobody, but I remember now. I remember what they did to me. What you agreed to let them do!"

His wrath seemed to be focused on Cassio right now, Hemlock being an afterthought. "Don't pretend you're on my side, when all you've done is go behind my back and trap me on this ship."

Cassio gurgled as Hemlock felt his face growing purple with the lack of blood flow. Yngvir drew them closer to him. "Did you tell him how you tricked me. Betrayed me?"

Yngvir seared through him, and he'd realized Hawthorn had been gentle. This was like being burned with the liquid nitrogen, boiling his blood away from the inside of his body. Scraping every edge, every surface of his mind with talons then prying open every wound it made. He would have screamed if he could, but all he could do was thrash with his limbs.

The pain was incomparable.

Why was Yngvir doing this? What was he looking for? He could just ask! He would tell him anything.

Yngvir panted, but let Hemlock go. Hemlock fell forward, splaying out on the ground. Unable to move after every part of his body had been pillaged for all it was worth. He choked on his own spit as he hacked, his lungs betraying him despite the air.

Cassio kept thrashing, fighting now, against Yngvir's chokehold. Sweat was forming on his temple and his jaw was gritted tightly. They were fighting each other with the force. He slowly outstretched his arm, and weakly opened up his palm while Yngvir throttled Cassio.

The arch of electricity was palpable in the air, smelling like burnt plastic and metal. He watched it move towards Yngvir, like a strange whip spitting out of his palm with a white spark. It hit Yngvir square in the chest and blew him back. He had just enough time to grab a ball from his belt and flick it at Yngvir. It trapped him against the end of the hall and Cassio dropped with a thud.

He panted as he raised himself up on his forearms. Yngvir was out cold, stuck to the far end of the hall. Hemlock lifted his body weight, despite the trembling in all of his limbs. The only limb that didn't shake like a leaf was the exoskeleton enhanced leg. His bad leg.

Crawling over to Cassio's body, he reached out to touch Cassio's shoulder. He was out cold as well. The gun he'd been holding had been thrown to the far end of the hall when he dropped.

He crawled to it, but the sound of a door opening made him pause. From the coldest room, Blackfeather stepped out, peering at the scene as if it was entirely normal to see someone passed out, strapped to a wall, and crawling on the ground. No wonder people thought he was crazy.

Blackfeather knelt and picked up the paralyzer gun with care. Then as he rose, examined it, like it was entirely foreign to him. "Funny, how he thinks something like this would be effective. Even though he finally remembers everything."

Blackfeather stepped over to him, his thin boots brushing very close to his face. He was lifted off the ground, not with a hand, but with the force. As he floated, he noticed the way Yngvir's eyes were fluttering, but Blackfeather paid it no mind and led him into the storage unit, then locked the door behind him with a flick of his fingers.

"What do you want with me?" He asked, trying to wiggle out of the invisible grip. It was still a strange feeling. Never any more comfortable than the last time it happened to him.

Blackfeather slid into a chair, dropping him onto the ground haphazardly. He landed awkwardly with the gauntlet pinned under him. He groaned as it jerked his shoulder out of place. Blackfeather tutted when he tried to sit up. "Stay down."

He froze when the pressure returned to the point behind his shoulders and he relaxed, as much as he could back onto the ground. Blackfeather smiled. "Good boy."

Blackfeather crossed his legs and placed his hands on his lap. "What naughty things have you been up to?" The third rifling in his mind wasn't as excruciating as the second, but it still scraped at him like a rough brush. In a way, Blackfeather's method was more systematic. Like a comb running through hair. Drawing through a bit at a time.

"So you made it. And met who you were supposed to. Good… good."

Hemlock twisted, his mind feeling raw with all the rifling. "Please… stop."

"Just a bit more." Blackfeather cooed as he curled his fingers like he was stroking the underside of some beast's chin. "And, oh? It's begun. How delightful. You've been a very good boy, Hemlock."

Blackfeather stood and bent over him. "Such a good boy, that I might just let you in on a secret."

Hemlock's brain could barely keep up, but it held onto the word secret. He muttered something unintelligible, even to himself, under his breath.

Blackfeather bent closer, "What'd you say?"

Hemlock fell limp and Blackfeather helped him rise, holding him by his torso like one might pick up a doll or a dog. "Come see what you were so curious about."

His body was lifted off the ground to the lid of a storage unit. Blackfeather raised a finger, unlocking the seal around the lid, letting cool air flow out into his face.

He closed his eyes, the air stinging with its dryness. Before he could reopen them, a thundering pounding blasted at the storage door. A muffled voice on the other side demanded, "Blackfeather, we know you're in there. Open up!"

Blackfeather flicked his finger and his body was tossed to someplace behind the stacks of units. Hemlock couldn't move nor speak nor see, but he could hear Blackfeather's saccharine voice asking, "What is it, Alabaster."

Stomping footsteps entered the facility and paused their marching. "Do you know what happened out in the hall? There's a janitor pinned to the wall, and we lost track of a unit who's gone rogue. Has burn scars running down half his body, black eyes, black hair. Over average weight."

Blackfeather took a moment to respond, then said, "No idea. I've been busy, tending to my job."

Alabaster's disapproval was apparent even by the way the silence drew on. "Well, if you see the unit, let me know immediately. He's expected for termination."

Termination. His mouth went dry and he felt the nausea rising into his throat again. Blackfeather drawled as the feet marched out. "Certainly. I've always enjoyed terminations."

The door shut and locked.