How the Dead Men Wake

[windfallswest]

Title: How the Dead Men Wake
Author: windfallswest
Rating: Hard R, sorry it takes so long
Pairing: Yusuke Urameshi/Oz, Oz/Mark McHenry
Fandom: Primarily Yu Yu Hakusho with a smattering of BtVS and Alias and a pinch or two of several other things for flavour, all blended together in a Firefly-shaped bowl
Disclaimer: <----
Author's Note: This is the tip of something huge that's been lurking in the back of my head for a while now, but don't trouble about it. Embrace confusion. You might make it out alive. Beta by my minion, htebazytook.


Yusuke Urameshi: deadbeat, dead-head. Dead.

"Wait. I'm confused." Yusuke looked around. "Where the hell am I?"

"Where did he go?" asked the stupefied doctor whose hands were hovering over an empty stretcher. He blinked at the oxygen mask lying on it by his left elbow, trying to rid himself of the after-images. "I'm almost certain there was a patient here a minute ago."

The EMTs were cowed. Simon watched them scratching their heads and endeavoured to think past the encroaching pounding in his temples.

"Did you get any ID on him?" he asked.

An EMT shook her head. "No time."

Simon looked at the blood on the stretcher, then nodded.

"Maybe we can get something off the cameras..." They should be good for something. "The hospital will take it from here. You can go now, I guess."

The EMTs shrugged indifferently and filed off somewhere, presumably to dispose of the stretcher and get cleaned up. Simon turned to the duty nurse.

"Arabella. Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure, honey." Arabella's smile was slightly dazed. She shook her ringletted head to clear it. "What do you need?"

"Can you find that kid for me? See if he has any relatives, anyone we can call?"

"Or anyone who might have sprung him." Simon looked up at the security guard suddenly looming on his right. "Maybe he has a criminal record. From the feeds, it almost looked like a flash grenade."

"Hey," said Yusuke. "Still not answering my question. What the hell?" He scrutinised the rather indistinct scenery without seeming particularly impressed.

An elegant, currently man-shaped entity frowned his pale, perfect mouth at Yusuke.

"This has to be a mistake. Does anyone want to take responsibility for it? Come now, gents, don't be shy."

Yusuke blinked and stared back at the onlookers. Then he started sniggering.

"What?" the entity who had spoken demanded.

"Dude, your hair."

"Kanzeon's," someone surmised. "Or one of the Lady's jokes, perhaps."

The first one vented an educated snort. "Never did understand that sort. Child," he addressed Yusuke.

Yusuke pulled a face. "What?" he demanded petulantly. His suspicions were starting to be pricked. This was nuts. Where had be been? Where was he? If those were walls, why were they wavering like that? Yusuke stared, mesmerised. He felt high, like the walls-and-ceilings-and floors-and hey, that bleach-head was definitely babbling at him.

"Whoa." Yusuke took a stumbling step forward towards a fleeting image. Either he'd gone further than he thought or it was coming at him anyway, but suddenly it was much more immediate. Sound, colour, smell, touch, times a thousand times more sensory input than Yusuke would ever have guessed his dumb brain was capable of recognising as it whizzed by, let alone processing and containing.

"Dude," Yusuke said, peering into a pair of blue, unreal eyes peeking from a swaddling of sterile linen and paper. "Whatever this juice is, who told you I was looking?"

Breaking away from the wide, frozen eyes, Yusuke examined what was laid out before him. "Stupid hun dan. Can't you see it?" Without thinking, he stuck his hand into the mess and corrected the mistakes.

"You shouldn't'a done that. Naughty boy." The voice jerked Yusuke out of the picture.

"Go stuff it, powder-head. It was broken. What's the big deal?"

The entity shook his head. "Rules, duck."

Yusuke stretched, clasped his hands behind his head, and turned his shoulder to the entity. Too bad he didn't have a cigarette.

"'m not big on rules."

"Well, that's just too gorram bad, now innit?" The entity was smirking in the corner of Yusuke's eye.

Yusuke craned his head and favoured blondie with his best sincerely reproachful look. Eat my sarcasm, dingbat, or eat my fist. Blondie's expression remained indecipherably neutral.

"Rules is serious up here. Seein' as how you broke 'em all to bitty piecies, we're just goin' to have to send you back."

There were nods.

Yusuke shrugged. "Whatev-"

Blink. Light.

Ouch.

"Hey, watch where you're throwing things!" Yusuke leapt up, brandishing his fist at the room, prepared to use it as soon as he figured out what needed hit.

"Who in three hells of cheese puffs are you?" The question came from a tall, stern-faced woman with a gun at her hip. "Fred! George! Cargo bay, now," she snapped into a wall-comm.

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Coming, o stalwart and leonine!"

"I swear, we didn't do it!"

"If you didn't, then why is there a naked man in my cargo bay?"

Yusuke looked puzzled. Then he looked down.

"What the- Who the- Zaog- Where the houzi de pigu are my trousers?"

Last night, last night; he could swear he didn't get wasted last night. The taste of a trippy dream was still in his mouth-but no, gorram it, and he didn't have a hangover. Or bruises. Okay, on to where. Friggin' enormous crates everywhere. Warehouse? The spaceport was an awful long way from his usual territory. Territory...? "Hey, this isn't funny, what happened to my trousers?"

"Better question: why are you in my cargo hold?" The woman was still looking at him, all in all with a rather unmistakeable lack of enthusiasm. There was some mug-faced goon glaring over her shoulder.

"You got a problem or something?" Yusuke snapped.

"Don't talk to her like that!" protested the orange-haired lughead. Stupid as he looked.

"What are you, her boyfriend?"

The moron yowlped indignantly. "Eew, gross."

"Shut it, bro." She turned to Yusuke, who made a valiant effort at not quailing under the weight of her displeasure.

"You're standing mother-naked, on my ship, in deep space. I'd consider watching my mouth," she remarked indifferently, which nevertheless had a quelling effect on the conversation. She tucked a lock of long, brown hair behind her ear and kept on staring at Yusuke, waiting. Sheesh.

A clanging sound heralded the arrival of two identical red-haired young men decked in dirt-born freckles and an air of irrepressibility.

"'Ello miz capt'n ma'am. Reporting as ordered," sang one, bouncing up to the woman and saluting.

"Cor!" His brother elbowed him and pointed at Yusuke, who was somewhat taken aback. "There is a nekkid man."

"Blimey! What are you doing 'ere?"

"Cap'n's gonna take the xiongmao niao out of you, you know."

"Won't help that you're starkers an' gorgeous."

"She's an 'ard-'earted woman, she is."

"Like iron."

"Impervious to our charms." They aimed identically alarming woebegone expressions at her.

"Entirely," the woman broke in. "Either of you care to explain this?" She fixed the duo with a hard look.

"Would if I could."

"Never seen him in me life."

"What makes you think it was us?" one of them chirruped cheerily.

"Oy, George, don't think you should've said that," whispered the other. They watched the woman as though she was a pacing tiger.

She gave them a flat look. "I think to myself: no pants, now, who are the likely culprits?"

"But we dunno who 'e is!"

"Swear on me life."

"And me berth."

"And all the starry heavens a-roundin' us."

"And mum's crumb cake."

"And those little plums we like-"

"Actually, it's just you with the plums, George."

"-may the dewies swoop down and chop me head in two."

They nodded emphatically, in unison. The woman rested a brief, sceptical glance on them, then moved on to Yusuke.

Yusuke backed up a step.

"Hey, don't look at me. I didn't do anything."

"Then how did you get here?'

"How the hell should I know?" Yusuke erupted. "Last thing I remember was...was... Fuck! I know I wasn't here, gorram it."

"Having a little memory problem, are we? Well, we can get around that easily enough. Fred, George, pull our guest's file. Find out who he is, if you don't know already. Go with them," she told Yusuke.

Yusuke looked down at the helpfully-placed crate in front of him and back up at his audience.

"Nuh-uh! Get me some clothes first!"

The lunkhead was sniggering again. Yusuke glared at him. "Think this is funny, do you? Come over here and I'll make you laugh all right!"

The woman placed a restraining arm in front of her windmilling brother.

"Go borrow some clothes from Oz, bro. You three. Go. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused and shot out of the room with all the alacrity of herders caught in a stampede of man-eating ostriches.

Once escape had been achieved, Yusuke, Fred and George stopped in the corridor to catch their collective breath. Yusuke leaned against the gooseflesh-raising wall and thought that if he hadn't thought his life was normal before, he'd been hugely mistaken.

As if to confirm this, one of the twins stuck out his hand with comical propriety.

"My name's George. This 'ere's me brother, Fred."

Baffled, Yusuke shook hands. "Yusuke Urameshi." Well, he remembered that, at least.

"Right, well, Yusuke, welcome aboard the good ship Heart of Darkness."

"Forgive our captain's bitchiness-"

"-she's only like that all the time-"

"-got a bit of a stick up, has our Shizuru, if you know what I mean."

"But she's a good enough sort."

"Probably won't space you."

"Here, follow us."

"Where're we going?" Yusuke asked as he padded warily along between them, his usual screen of hostility temporarily beaten back by confusion and the lack of a satisfying target. On the plus side, he hadn't seen anyone yet he couldn't pound into beagle-burger.

"To our magic shop, of course," replied one of them, he'd already lost track.

The magic shop turned out to be a state-of-the-art console on the bridge, looking both out of place and terribly misused. Wires scraggled over it connecting bits to other bits and it evinced an obvious lack of dusting. Directly above the flat blanks of its projection grids were some very large windows. Yusuke stood in the doorway and stared down the pinprick stars, naked as he was without the buffering atmosphere to cover their bare hydrogen fires.

"Okay, what the hell is this?" Yusuke demanded. Well, shouted.

"That's Bella Mordico. To the left is the Tired Nebula. The really bright one under it is Icona. Right-"

Yusuke transferred his blank stare to the new speaker, probably the, the pilot, hadn't someone said this was a ship? well that would explain the stars, who looked more perturbed by the hands over his mouth than by the spectacle of a naked man jumping around and invading his personal domain. At least to the extent he seemed capable of being perturbed, which is to say his expression (what could be seen of it) was mildly puzzled.

George and Fred smile at Yusuke over the pilot's head. His hair was reddish, like everyone else's Yusuke'd seen so far except the captain's. Normal build, which would put him some odd inches over Yusuke's height, also like everyone else, dammit.

"Yusuke, meet Mark McHenry," said the one on the right.

"Sorry, mate," the one on the left apologised as they lifted their hands, patting McHenry on the shoulder and exposing a dusting of freckles across his face. "But you wouldn't want to scare off our stowaway, would you?"

"Or is he your stowaway?"

McHenry blinked, tilted his head, and gazed disconcertingly at Yusuke, or possibly just his left ear. Yusuke put his fists on his hips, refusing to be embarrassed.

One of the twins rolled his eyes and grabbed Yusuke's elbow, pulling him into the room. The other seated himself and brought up a colourful display. He tapped something. Then he tapped something else.

"Out of range. Mark!" He slapped McHenry's foot as it jiggled nearby on the dash.

McHenry cracked an eye. "Ten minutes, give or take," he said cryptically, then appeared to go back to sleep.

"Bilgewater," the twin muttered darkly.

"Does this mean I can have some trousers now, or do I have to get nasty?" Gorrammit, it was cold up here.

"If it'd make you more comfortable, we could all take ours off," the unoccupied twin volunteered.

"Captain said no more orgies on the bridge," McHenry reminded them.

"Who said anything about an orgy? All I suggested was a bit of good-natured exhibitionism."

"Please don't," someone squeaked from the corridor behind them. "Here."

A pair of trousers was thrust into the room. Yusuke snatched them and hastily put them on, cinching the drawstring tight. They actually fit, wonder of wonders. Couldn't be from any of this lot, though.

"That's better. Hey!' Yusuke dashed back to the twins' display. "What the hell?"

"That's a warrant, that is."

"I can see that, Fred. All the way from Osiris."

"Seems we have a fugie, dunnit, George?"

"Hey, lemme see that." Yusuke brushed hair out of his eyes; time to get it cut again. But gorram annoying and weird besides; he always slicked it back. It looked more badass that way. He didn't even feel any gel residue in it.

The words attack, hospital, accomplices, armed and dangerous filed past in neat, orderly, official script.

"Stuff my intestines with tomatoes." Yusuke tried to keep his face under control. This just kept getting stranger. "That can't be right."

"Well, let's just take a look at that permanent record, now, shall we?" George chirped. A host of incomprehensible characters overran the display, punctuated occasionally by warning colours that flashed briefly like pennons in the wind.

"Hey-! You can't do that!" Yusuke protested.

"'Course we can." George scrolled the display to reveal an image of Yusuke's glowering face, the same one that had graced the arrest warrant, minus the side view. "Yusuke Urameshi, sixteen; numerous infractions-don't look like 'e's been to class too regular. Missing two months, warrant for arrest, et cetera."

Yusuke had been perusing the list of his offences-enough to make a respectable citizen cringe and missing some of the more interesting ones by benefit of being a list of only those times he'd got caught, he somehow knew-when this remark jerked him back to attention.

"Okay, that's really stupid. I was on Osiris yesterday." Of this he was unshakeably certain, for no concrete reason.

"Don't know where you were yesterday, mate, but this is Fransmun. Osiris is at least eighteen jumps away, plus some heavy RS time," Fred added.

"What the fuck?" Yusuke swept a frustrated hand through the holoscreen. "Damn load of crap."

Yusuke scowled. He scowled at the ceiling. He scowled at the walls. He scowled at the floor and his feet. Feet looked weird if you scowled at them for about eighty hours. If he were less of a stubborn bastard he'd have stopped scowling at the guy standing in front of the door who had been introduced only as "Oz" and who was less responsive than the King of Londinium's Castle Guard.

For the moment, Yusuke was quiet, resting his voice after his last twenty-minute bout of raillery. It had taken very little time for Yusuke's protestations to stop being about how unfair it was to be locked in here on general principle and to start being very personally about getting this Oz guy to react. Mostly people noticed Yusuke when he wanted them to, and a lot of times when he didn't. So what was this, karma? Bite my ass. Yusuke's nerves were wearing thin. And not his short-fused nerves, his limited stores of patience that were how he'd survived the serious hard-cases on Capitol City's long-streets. But that wasn't really patience. Patience sat and waited. Yusuke had never been good at sitting still, and he did his waiting while he was swinging. He couldn't even sleep with those rutting eyes on him.

Yusuke ground his teeth. Then he punched the wall, which did his hand a lot of good, thanks. He stood there and looked at his fist planted therapeutically on the metal wall. From this angle, he should've been able to see the knife scar on the inside of his forearm. He opened his left hand: no calluses from pounding half-brains. No wonder his feet looked weird; he ran a rusty nail clear through the right one when he was ten.

Gor-rutting-damn it.

This can't be hell. The walls aren't wavy enough. Yusuke decided not to examine where that last thought had come from. He could feel the eyes resting tirelessly on his back.

"What, did she cut your tongue out?" Yusuke whirled. "Or are you just missing a little something up here?" he tapped his head. "Back-bred freak. Answer me! What in seventy hells of cream cheese does it take to make you unclench your jaw and take the stick out of your butt?"

Yusuke had been unconsciously advancing, and now there was very little space between his face and Oz's un-freaking-changeable one. Just look at that; he did breathe. And his eyes followed Yusuke. Well, they crossed a little when Yusuke kissed him.

It was supposed to be a tactic: confuse him, get your hand on his neck. Then a headlock and a sucker punch to the gut. That was the plan.

Plan, meet Oz-tongue. Definitely all there, that tongue. Yusuke started backwards a bit but Oz followed him and Yusuke's brain was melting in short order. Hey, you wanted responsive, some corner of his mind was snickering, to which Yusuke responded by telling it very firmly to shut up.

When the kiss broke, Yusuke had the satisfaction of seeing Oz flushed and panting. Also slightly ruffled. Pupils dilated; Yusuke could tell because he could pretty much look straight into Oz's eyes. This must be the mysterious trouser-donor, then; everyone else on this ship had a foot and a half on either of them.

"I'm still not letting you out," Oz said. His voice was notably husky.

"So you can talk after all."

"Yeah." Oz leaned in for a kiss Yusuke surprised himself by giving. This was almost as good as beating the crap out of him would be, though they'd undoubtedly get to that. Right now, Yusuke's hormones were industriously feeding his youthful libido ideas. He didn't do a lot of this. The guys who went in for the macho thing were actually sleezier than the girls. Everyone else was either afraid of him or wanted to grind him into the pavement. Keiko ground him into the pavement, the little brat. Did he ask anyone for a bossy sister? It sure took the fun out of having a lush like Atsuko for a mom. He was too distracted to notice he was remembering.

Oz had Yusuke pinned to the wall now by a grip on his upper arms. Their teeth clashed in a clumsy, devouring kiss with Yusuke straining upwards after Oz's mouth, his body. Every inch of Yusuke's skin ached for contact. Oz's hands were almost painful bands of fire. Yusuke's heart hammered like he was throwing down with four flash junkies on a fresh high. He could feel the effort Oz was using to pin him. In a minute, he was going to start up the wall for leverage.

"Whoa."

Yusuke opened his eyes to see Oz pulling away. The room seemed somehow dimmer now than with his eyes closed.

After Oz stepped back, Yusuke stayed leaning against the wall for a minute to regain himself. Staring at Oz with an intensity at odds with his wild ranting earlier. Five seconds ago, he was kissing Oz like he wanted to climb down his throat. Intense. Yeah, that's the word.

Oz cleared his throat. "Captain said she'd talk with you in the morning."

"And you couldn't just tell me that?" Yusuke was shouting again. He looked peeved. And kind of lickable.

Oz shrugged. Yusuke just sighed.

"So what, I'm supposed to wait around?"

"You could sleep," Oz suggested. He decided not to confide Shizuru's hope that Yusuke would disappear in a convenient manner during the night. It might be nice, but it would be more weird. In Oz's experience, weird generally led to bad. So far, they probably had enough bad coming. Oz rubbed his hand guiltily on the seam of his coveralls. If Yusuke disappeared, it wouldn't matter if he'd seen Oz's eyes doing something embarrassing like spinning.

Morning came quietly, as it does in space. Yusuke had finally drifted off at some point during the night. Oz was sitting on the floor, half meditating and half watching Yusuke sprawling restlessly across the spare bunk. Well, mostly watching Yusuke by the time Shizuru's steps sounded down the corridor.

"Hey." Oz clambered to his feet and went over to nudge Yusuke. "Rise'n shine."

Yusuke started awake. Oz almost expected to be jumped again, but Yusuke merely staggered upright. He looked both better and worse than he had last night, dark hair tousled and lines on his face like he had a headache.

When Oz stood between Yusuke and Shizuru, he could feel the difference, which was more than a little disturbing. He'd spent a goodly portion of his life to date purposefully not honing that particular set of sensory perceptions, and now here came a fellow popping out of the ether fairly jumping up and down with unusualness. He wanted to talk with McHenry, though as like as not there'd be no extraordinary information gained in the exchange. It was a fair cut; Oz had erected his own obfuscatory barriers often enough. The two of them didn't acknowledge the mutual unconventionality. Everyone else just assumed that if there was something a mite off about how they behaved with one another it was because they were fucking. Which they did, from time to time.

Shizuru was asking Yusuke to account for himself. Surprisingly enough, he met her eyes solidly and said, "Fine."

There was a brief silence in which Yusuke failed to waver.

"Thinking's not really my strong suit, but I was trying to figure things so they made some kind of sense. I'm good, but I'm still just a two-bit street brawler, I know that. Not a kidnapper or terrorist or whatever the feds want to arrest me for."

Yusuke held out his hands palm down, flexed them into fists, then splayed them over the air again.

"No calluses. No scars, and my memory may be a bit hazy, but I distictly remember being circumcised." Judging by the colour he was turning, Yusuke had just thought better of that last comment; but he plunged on.

"It ain't natural. All I can reckon is that the government's been experimenting on me somehow. Messing with my head. I don't like that. Those sons of monkey-lovers ain't gonna get another chance at me."

"So what am I supposed to do with you?" Shizuru asked in her tired voice.

Yusuke shrugged. "Drop me at the nearest settlement. One ball of rock's about the same as another; I'll make my way well enough."

"Assuming I don't space you. We got problems enough without your sort of trouble."

Yusuke snorted. "Oh, please. I could take everyone on this wreck. Besides, what about that juicy reward the Alliance put on my hide?"

"The Alliance never paid anyone they didn't have to." A bitter smile twisted her mouth. "It's not good business."

Shizuru gave the impression of weighing Yusuke with her always oddly serious eyes. He thrust his jaw forward and neither relaxed nor tensed, but more like both at once. Like how Oz looked at an engine needed fixing or the twins got with one of their hacks.

"I don't know what my crew have told you," Shizuru shot a significant glance at Oz, "but I don't throw innocent people to the wolves. Our next port is Jervis Station 'bout a day out yet. Not much in the way of traffic, though, and it's a scraggy piece of lese. I'd be willing to let you work your passage to someplace like Wexley. Ships there'll be more like to be headed inwards."

Oz's eyebrows hiked up to his hairline and started crawling backwards.

"Thanks, but I'll do alright on Jervis."

"You're not going back to Osiris?"

"Hell no. I don't even have an ident card. 'S not like I have much reason to go back anyway."

Shizuru frowned. "What about your mother?"

Yusuke's expression narrowed, then grew elaborately casual in the space of a few blinks.

"If you read my file, you know my mom's young. Without me around she can probably land herself a decent man."

"Well, you're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"You're pretty dapper there yourself, Shizuru," Oz remarked.

"Can it. And get some sleep. I don't want to waste time lolly-gagging at Jervis."

From Shizuru that was outright friendly. Oz turned to leave.

"And you, don't think this is a free ride. There's a microscrubber with your name on it, dong ma?"

Oz grinned over his shoulder at Yusuke's bulldozed expression. Shizuru did that to people at first, before the yelling set in. She was a terror of an opportunist.

Instead of heading to his bunk, Oz made his way to the kitchen. From the hair-curling dregs he poured into his mug, Shizuru had made the pot this morning. Oz sprinkled in some herbs and powdered chilli to hide the taste and started water boiling. McHenry must already have been through; he'd butter his bread with axel grease if no one kept it out of reach. Fred and George preferred tea. Kuwabara somnambulated in while Oz was contemplating the last sludgey remnants of his coffee for some sort of protein drink that was more vile even than Oz's herbs.

Oz started humming the Sparky Cola jingle, earning himself a glare from Shizuru's hulking young brother. It was too late, though; now they'd both have it stuck in their heads all day.

"Hey, Kuwabara-" Oz started.

"What?" Kuwabara surled back.

"Nah, nothing."

Oz brought his cup up to finish it off, then took a closer look. He'd washed less sinister things out of Darkness's engine.

Mark McHenry was, as expected, lolling in the pilot's seat, looking none too awake for the empty mug sitting by his feet on the controls. He acknowledged Oz's arrival with a brief flicker of an eyelid.

"How's Fred's and George's naked stowaway?"

"Yeah, can't believe I missed that."

McHenry smiled. "It was a sight."

"Says he's leaving at Jervis. Shizuru's put him to work already."

McHenry gazed at the ceiling. Oz stared out the window.

"This is weird."

"Uh-huh."

Oz wished he could ask for something more definite: he should stay or we're all going to be ground into tiny little protein bits. Probably, though, McHenry didn't have anything more than Oz did, just a feeling of off-ness seasoned with a pinch of foreboding. It would like as not debark with Yusuke; and any sentiments Oz had about that were the results of pure, physical attraction, not psychic twinges.

Despite her noble assertions of not throwing people to the wolves, Yusuke would have found himself standing literally shirtless and bootless on the docks of Jervis Station but for the creepily exuberant grace of the Weasley twins. The way they eyed him, like a slab of beef, Xao Prime's finest, it was surprising they'd given Yusuke clothes at all. Between the twins' hovering and his thankfully infrequent but still awkward encounters with Oz, Yusuke was more than glad to get away.

The docks were a more familiar sort of freakshow. Yusuke slid smoothly into the reeking, hairy mob. Air was even close and smoggy here.

First thing is get a job, I guess. Mom'd be so proud.

Finding out who ran this dump was easy. The cops were definitely outnumbered and out-classed by the local goon platoon. Yusuke only had to relieve three strategically chosen passers-by of their spare change before a trio of thugs approached him into an alcove off the main flow of traffic.

"Nice show, kid. You got our attention." The one who spoke sneered down at Yusuke, who was thinking how nice it would have been if he'd had a growth spurt during those missing two months.

"Who runs this heap of lese?"

The head thug exchanged glances with his fellows. They laughed. He turned back to Yusuke. "Can't come to Jervis not knowin' who the boss is. Everyone knows. What're you playing' at?"

"Just call it curiosity. What's the big deal?"

The thug stepped closer.

"Who you workin' for?"

"Nobody."

"Really." The backup singers hulked taller, if that as possible. "That's feifei de piyan. I'm gonna ask nice one more ti-"

"Shaddap already," Yusuke shouted as he drove his fist into the head thug's stomach. It was a very gratifying feeling.

The thugs fell on him like towers of shipping crates. Yusuke dodged and swung and reeled unreservedly. One of the thugs caught him an uppercut on the point of his chin and sent him flying along a graceful arc through a wall or door or something.

Shoddy construction, Yusuke thought happily.

Yusuke had landed on someone. Four rather more serious-looking customers were rounding on him, in addition to the three thugs crashing hostilely Yusuke-wards from the docks. There were several more moments filled with the sounds of yelling, grunting and assorted percussive variants. Bright-eyed, Yusuke scanned the hallway. Empty. He picked up a body indiscriminately by the scruff of its neck and shook it.

"Hey," Yusuke demanded. "Where's your boss?"

The man coughed weakly. "You will...never make it."

Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Just tell me how to find the guy."

"I will assist you."

A heavy hand fell on Yusuke's shoulder. Yusuke whirled and sprang backwards into the iron grips of another batch of toadies. Gorrammit. I didn't even hear the bastards coming.

"Hey, hands off! Where are you taking me?" blustered Yusuke as they frog-marched him down the hall.

"You will see," replied the dark man who had spoken before. It did not sound like we're going to lock you up and leave you for the rats. It didn't sound like we shall feed you milk and honey and juggle goslings for your amusement, either.

Yusuke did not succeed in shrugging off his guards until they arrived at a large, well-lit room. In the brief pause while they'd waited for the chamber's wide doors to slide open, Yusuke had noticed that the men on either side of it were not lawmen but more of the local colour.

That was quick, thought Yusuke, locking eyes with the woman enthroned at the back of the room towards whom no one's back was turned.

If cubic footage was as valuable here as in a city, this bint was loaded. The room was more wide than deep. A serried rank of desks and equipment lined the walls. Upwards of twenty people, some species of drone, scurried busily around the edges. The space left open in the middle was big enough to hold the entire apartment Yusuke'd shared with his mother.

Man, it's just some old lady. Yusuke fought off disappointment. At least she'll be easy to take. I'll feel kinda guilty beating her up. King of a space-station was a step up from street punk, even if it had a doofy name like Jervis. Maybe she'll fork it over if I pound the rest of her goons.

"Who is this?" the woman asked.

"The name's Yusuke Urameshi."

"It appears as though he bested Master Cee and seven of our men," the brown, hairless pillar of a man who had overseen Yusuke's apprehension fairly tolled. "He seemed to be looking for you."

She eyed Yusuke. He tried not to squirm. What was it with women on the Rim?

"He has found me. I believe I can handle him from here." As she spoke, the boss-lady separated herself from her elegantly carved, low-backed throne.

Ti wo de pigu, I think that thing's solid wood.

Boss-lady came towards him across the floor. At her signal, Yusuke's wall of guards melted away into the bulkheads, leaving him uncomfortably exposed.

That wasn't a security blanket, moron, Yusuke growled at himself as boss-lady circled him predatorily. Yusuke clenched his fists; his knuckles were bleeding from the brawl earlier. Old hag or not, I'll fight her if I have to.

"What did you want to see me about?" boss-lady asked, coming into view again on Yusuke's other side.

Yusuke smirked back at her in lieu of twitching like a landed fish. "Lookin' for a job."

"Oh? Anything particular in mind?"

"Yeah. I was thinking about yours."

She laughed.

Yusuke bristled. "What's so funny, grandma?"

"Are you challenging me?"

"Why not?"

"It will be your funeral," she said indifferently.

"We'll see, old bat."

Boss-lady stepped back, into the middle of the cleared space, and gestured graciously for Yusuke to take his position.

"Hey, what's your name anyway?" he asked.

An audible snicker ran its way around the room.

"Irina Derevko," boss-lady replied politely.

"Great. Now that we've got the formalities over with..."

He took the first swing, and that was about all Yusuke could say for himself. Derevko was really making him pay for that old bat comment. Some people had no sense of humour. Yusuke could barely avoid half of what she threw at him, and he had a sinking suspicion that she was going easy.

Gorrammit, I hate being toyed with. He thought he saw a pattern, though, maybe. Just a little bit-

"Hah!"

Yusuke put his weight behind the punch. It connected-slid-fuck.

Derevko turned her head back towards him, blood from his fist smeared redly on her cheek. With ruthless precision, Derevko took hold of his arm and flipped him over her head. Blood raced to Yusuke's head as he sailed through the air and tried to brace for impact.

When Yusuke landed, he wasn't braced for impact. He came down neatly, rocked forward onto the balls of his feet, and let loose with something that almost bowled Derevko over. What the hell was that?!

"What a wonderful surprise."

Derevko was smiling now. While Yusuke was still boggling at his hands like he'd found them goosing the plumber, she hit him some sort of chop to the back of the neck. Yusuke staggered. Derevko had no trouble dodging his retaliatory swipe, but it got her off his back for a minute. He straightened and took a few steps, trying to find his rhythm. There was an odd sort of swing it always took him a while to get.

That was all the more reprieve Yusuke got. Derevko was on the outside, and she was pressing her advantage. He couldn't get around her enough to sneak a punch of his own in edgewise. And defence isn't my strong point. Usually he'd say it was time to cut and run, but there was nowhere to go that had better ground. Nowhere he could get to, anyway. Derevko was between Yusuke and the door.

All of a sudden, Yusuke felt the wall at his back. Derevko's fist slammed into it where Yusuke's head had been a second earlier. Then her knee was in his groin and his feet were swept from under him. When the throbbing receded, Yusuke was on his face under Derevko, who had his arms locked behind his back in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Very promising. If you agree to behave, I'll let you live."

"Define behave," Yusuke growled.

"Stop trying to kill me; it's a wasted effort. And do as I say."

"Not too good at that last part. Wanna make an effort to specify?"

Derevko slammed his head back into the floor.

"I'm offering to make you my apprentice, minor league."

Yusuke smirked into the metal decking. "Hell, that's the best offer I've had all day. Now wouldja get off my back already?"

"Among other things, I see I'll have to teach you manners." Yusuke's head met plating again.

"Hey!" Yusuke protested. "Lighten up, old bat."

Eventually, Yusuke was permitted to stand. Then he was crowded off down the hall to another room and told to stay put. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and looked around.

"I've seen bigger closets," Yusuke grumbled to the bare walls. He tried the door: locked, and the terminal: dead. Great. This apprentice gig was fun already. And what the hell was that, when he'd been fighting her? And the rest of it?

"Heard you have a job needs doing."

Irina Derevko's face came alight with pleasure. "Captain Kuwabara. It's so good to see you again." She smiled warmly.

With effort, Shizuru managed not to flinch away from Derevko's hospitality. She wanted a smoke. McHenry was a reassuring presence behind her. Oz probably would've been smarter, but they needed a new flow regulator, among other things, and Oz insisted on checking it out himself. Kuwabara was overseeing the unloading of their cargo. For her part, Shizuru didn't want to spend a second more than she had to on Jervis. Besides, Shizuru fancied McHenry unnerved Derevko, just a bit.

"You're looking well," Derevko continued.

"And you haven't changed at all," responded Shizuru.

"That is kind of you to say. But on to business."

Derevko gestured them to follow her to a desk. Shizuru crossed the eerily vacant floor, feeling as she always did that someone had her in the crosshairs. Not unlikely.

"This is what you're looking for."

It bore a vague resemblance to a tomato. Shizuru picked up the plastic flimsy on which some hand had sketched it and tried to discern what was so remarkable about it.

"How many do you want?" Shizuru asked. "And should I pick up lettuce while I'm at it?"

"Just the one. It's approximately the size of an eggplant. I'll provide you with a portable refrigeration unit for its transport. You'll find it growing in a scientific research facility on Casanoi; that's most of the information I have. I will admit, I was happy to see you dock. Your crew is well suited to this mission."

Shizuru lifted her eyes to meet Derevko's. They were both smiling and brown, like her space-weathered face, and sincerely charming as her smile.

"I have two questions."

"How much, and what are you up against?"

"You guess better than I do. Now tell me if it's worth my time."

By the time someone finally deigned to notice him again, Yusuke had dropped into a fitful doze. He woke to the sound of the door swishing open and blinked the orange and green lump in front of him into focus as his (George's) jacket slung over the back of the chair for the unplugged computer terminal.

Yusuke sat up.

"Who're you?"

"Irina Derevko requests your presence."

Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Requests my ass." Heaving a sigh, he stood and grabbed his jacket.

"Right. Well, lead on already. I hope this is a dinner date."

It wasn't. It was him alone in a room with a woman who, Yusuke was increasingly convinced, ate people's eyeballs while they were still raw and dangly with nerve endings.

"What do you know of a man named Terrence Cee?"

"Never heard of him. You got anything to eat around here?"

"Do you recall a blonde man? Wiry, a little taller than you," Derevko tried again.

Yusuke thought a minute. "From this morning or whatever? Doesn't sound like anyone I beat the crap out of."

"Terrence is my lieutenant. He claims a wall fell on him." She paused. "You are either very good or very lucky."

"So whadda you think?" asked Yusuke, not twitching from his deliberately casual pose against the wall. They were in a smaller room than Derevko's main hall, though it still kicked the one Yusuke had been relegated to all to blazes.

"The Alliance has been circulating a high-priority warrant for your arrest. The charges are fabricated, of course. But the question remains: what do you have that they want so badly?"

She knows something! I'm sure of it. Now, how to make her share...

"Who cares? Maybe I picked the wrong guy's pocket. All those Alliance bastards are crazy anyway."

Derevko didn't look convinced or fooled or exasperated or anything else encouraging. She looked like she was onto him.

Let me know how that works out for you, Yusuke thought grimly and closed his eyes. Maybe you can give me a clue.

"Alright, people. We have a job." Shizuru strode purposefully onto the control deck. She tossed a small chit and a key-card to Fred, then plunked the refrigerator down. "Run that through the bug-scanner, tell me what it says. Then take a look at the key-card. We're going after a very special tomato."

George blinked at her. "No, really. What's the job?"

Shizuru sighed. "Never mind. Is Oz back yet?"

"Not only is he back, he's almost finished installing his whatits," replied Fred cheerily. He leaned over and watched as George sat down beside him and deposited Derevko's chit in one of the numerous and indistinguishable contact ports.

"Great. McHenry, take us out as soon as he's done."

"Aye aye, cap'n."

part II
part III