Author's Note: This story requires a few words of explination. Some of it is based off of an rpg with my friend alderex, and some of it... I'm not sure where it came from. It is a darker version of the universe, but it is not officially the Mirror. There may also be other references to other scifi genres--when we were playing, anything was really fair game. So needless to say, I had a lot of outside inspirations as well. But I hope you enjoy it, please review I appreciate the feedback.

Animal

Jon's clearest memories were mostly of cages. If not cages, then of pain. He was aware of the before, but he didn't remember it. He hadn't consciously forgotten either—they made him. They made him fight too. And they put him in cages.

It was small—five steps by five steps, and the walls were solid while the door was barred and looked out onto the numerous other cages. Inside, it was naturally dark, unless light came in from the door, but that was only at certain times of the day. Other than walls, and Jon, the cell was empty with a hard metal floor.

He sat in the corner farthest from the door with his knees drawn up to his chest. Outside, he could hear talking. It meant they would come to see him soon. His owner had been trying to sell him, he had estimated, for a few weeks. It was sometimes difficult to tell, as he didn't have a choice in the matter and prospective buyers were only sometimes taken to view him. They would come today though—he recognized his owner's voice outside.

"I think you will be impressed," the owner said. "He can be difficult to handle, but he is more than worth the money and effort. No human has ever lasted as long as he has, with enhancements or not." He walked up to the cage, waiting for his companion to join him there. "And, rumors state that he was held by Romulans for a time. They must have been the ones to turn him into an animal," he added with a gold-tooth grin. Then he looked into the cell and his eyes grew dark. "Stand up. Come over here."

His owner was named Lek—he was well-rounded, especially in regards to his stomach, and he had thin greasy hair that he slicked back to cling to the back of his head as if he was afraid to loose the rest of it. Leg wasn't a tall being, but he thought of himself so, at least in personality. He was also quick to anger, Jon had found, and quick to punish.

With some reluctance, Jon got to his feet and walked a few steps to stand in the middle of his cell, but no closer. Lek had berated and punished him before for being tall and he didn't want to ignite the hatred again. Motioning with his hand, Lek stepped out of the way to give the buyer room to observe. It was as much of a chance for Jon to see where he might be going as well as for the buyer to look him over.

The new man, contrary to Lek's usual company, stood a head higher than him. He was thin, but not weakly built, as he had some muscle mass. It was difficult for Jon to tell sometimes as he wasn't always dealing with a familiar species—this man certainly wasn't. Neither was Lek. The man narrowed his pale eyes at Jon, looking him over critically, and Jon dropped his gaze to the ground. He'd seen enough of the man—his stern face and tight mouth.

But Jon himself knew he wasn't much to look at, if the man was taking this long, then he must be interested. He didn't particularly want to stay with Lek, but going somewhere new always presented new challenges. Sometimes better, sometimes worse.

The buyer raised a black eyebrow in contrast to his white hair. "What happened to his throat."

Lek's eyes widened in alarm, but he quickly smiled to cover it up. "An unfortunate accident, much before I came into possession of him. But, it ensures that he never talks back."

For another few moments, they were both quiet. Jon glanced up only once to see Lek looking between both of them with an anxious smile, and the other focused on his visual examination of Jon. At last, the buyer spoke. "Your price is too high, he's not impressive-looking."

Lek's eyebrows shot up towards his greasy hair. "Oh, he is! He's very impressive, if you require a demonstration..."

"No. That's not necessary. I'll give you 500,000 credits."

The owner blinked. "He's certainly worth more than that. 700,000."

The other man folded his arms calmly, looking very clearly as if he had nothing to loose—which he didn't, only Lek did. "600,000 is my final offer. You won't find anything better. Even for his apparent skill, your asking price is too high."

A low growl came from Lek and his eyes narrowed angrily. "Fine. Take him. But I expect the money first! You drive a hard bargain, Zane…"

Jon quickly looked him over again. Zane Forbin had a reputation among the free world that had even filtered into the slave world. His reputation was also rare for a man so young, which made it more intimidating. Zane stepped back away from the door to dig out a datapad from his pocket, to transfer the funds to Lek, and he motioned with one hand off to his left as a signal for two of his men to approach the cage for Jon.

They were both large muscular men, to almost rival Orion pirates, but their skin wasn't green, just tan. As they approached, Jon stepped back. He'd seen men like them before and while he had already decided staying with Lek could be bad, but Zane…

The men opened the door, and Jon retreated back into the corner to get away from them. There was really no way to escape by them, they were a force like a metal wall. One of the men produced a restraining collar and walked forward with a sinister grin to see a tournament slave so afraid of him—he clearly enjoyed his authority, and he must have a lot of it working for Zane. But Jon refused the collar, and he feared that more than the metal wall of the two men. As soon as the one got close enough, Jon swung his fist at his head, which connected with his jaw and made a cracking noise of two sets of bone with very little skin padding that were being struck together.

Hitting an owner was a crime punishable by death, but striking a guard or foreman or paid employee of the owner was not. It would at least gain him a beating—and he'd take that over the collar.

The man stumbled back, and the other one clenched his fists, but instead of trying to hit him, he tried to grab Jon instead. "You're going to regret that, slave!"

Jon ducked to get away from the hasty grab, and he swung at the second guard too. He had gone this far, he might as well deal out as much damage as he could. After all, that was what they trained him to do. While he was more occupied with taking the second guard down, the first pulled out a metal baton that had been holstered at his side, then he pressed the black button on the handle and an electric charge shot up the baton and it buzzed to life. Gritting his teeth, he swung it and hit Jon's shoulder, knocking him back from the other man.

Zane looked up from his completed transaction with Lek, and he took a step closer to the cage to observe the fight taking place. He had seen grown men reduced to the fetal position with a blow from an electrified baton, and if he had any doubts about Jon's strength, they were quieted.

Jon didn't even cry out, but he stumbled back and reached up to his shoulder in pain. Grinning again, the first man reached out to grab him by his throat. Jon's eyes widened in panic, and he hit at him hard, trying to get away with much more ferocity and desperation than the guard was executing in trying to catch him. One of his fists came in contact with the man's head, knocking him back and freeing Jon's neck from his grip. As soon as he was free, he brought his hands up to his throat protectively. But the second guard was finally able to grab him from behind and slapped the straining collar around his neck before he could get away.

It took them another few moments to subdue the rebellious slave, and during the time, Zane congratulated himself for purchasing such a rarity and he made a note to punish the guards for taking so much time as well as the slave. But he stood silently until they brought him out, with his arms also bound in front of him and the black metal collar around his neck.

As Jon flinched a little at the brightness, Zane looked him over once more in the light. Then with a sigh, he nodded to the men. "Take him to the ship, and house him with the other animals, where he belongs."

The men started to lead him away, and the cage door slammed shut.

Trip Tucker woke with a start, sitting up in bed and panting as if he had just run five miles for his life. He felt like he had too; his lungs ached and his skin was covered in sweat. Slowly he brought a shaky hand up to rub his face, and he glanced over at the other body in bed, who still seemed to be asleep. She was facing away from him, with the sheets draped over her bare shoulders, and rising and falling as she continued to sleep. He was glad to see it—he didn't really want to wake her up.

The night was warm, even in San Francisco, though it was nothing compared to a hot night in Florida. Trip swung his bare feet over the edge of the bed. For a moment, he leaned with his elbows on his knees, then he stood up and padded out into the front room.

The window was half open, so he pushed it open all the way and he leaned on the windowsill. Even though the night was warm, there was still a cool breeze that came off of the bay, and it made him shivered. For a moment, he felt that a tank-top and pair of shorts were too cold. Like space. Space was cold.

A pair of warm hands slid up his back, making him shiver again, and she leaned her head on his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Did you have another nightmare?" Hoshi asked sleepily.

"Yeah.." Trip replied, trailing off briefly. "I didn't mean ta wake you."

"Mmmmm… you didn't. The lack of you did."

"Sorry. I uh.. just needed some air," he said, and brought his hand up to rest on her arm.

She drew in a deep breath, and she lifted her head up, trailing her hands across his shoulders as she moved to his side to look up at him. "Tell me about it, Trip."

Hesitantly, he glanced at her. Hoshi was certainly more awake now, and he knew how hard it was to get her off of the subject. With a sigh, he looked back out the window over the various other tall buildings of the city. "It ain't much to tell, it was a dream."

"You know what the doctor said… it's good for you to talk about it. If you don't, you're going to keep having these dreams."

"D'you think I like this?" he asked, looking at her sharply, then his face softened. "I'm sorry.. just tonight, I don't wanna go into it."

Hoshi bit her lip, and she reached up to brush his blond hair back, making it stuck up a little at odd angles. "I know. But I don't like it when this happens either. What will you do if you get a position on another ship, just not sleep?"

"If I get on another ship…"

"You're not a bad luck charm. It was a long time ago."

"It was seven years, Hosh… that ain't that long of a time."

"Are you still going to be saying that when it's been seventeen years?"

He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. "So you're just goina tell me to let it go, like everyone else."

"No, Trip… Don't act like that. They don't see you like this. Sometimes I think that they believe you're faking it, and I know you're not. But you can't let the guilt eat at you forever."

"I'm the only one that survived.. It ain't that easy, to say just don't be guilty."

Slowly she reached up to place her hand on the side of his face, and she turned his head to face her. "You did survive, you're here, with me. Don't forget that either."

Trip shook his head. "I don't forget it. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces."