Alex tried to lock himself in his room.
    It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, he'd tried to get back to normal, to go back to his training, to fixing up the ship's computer system. He tried to put what had happened behind him, It had happened, he couldn't change it. He knew that there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on the pass. He really tried, but the crew's behavior made it impossible.
    In the days that followed the incident, each time one of the crew ran into him, they congratulated him on taking down their pursuers. They acted like he'd done the greatest thing ever.
    Each time he felt like screaming at them. He'd committed murder, He couldn't justify what he'd done. And the shadow in his mind, with Tristan's voice, told him to strike them, to show them he was better than any of them. Alex didn't act on the impulse, and the voice jeered him for being weak.
    That was why he was now trying to lock himself in. He wanted to be utterly alone. He wanted to crawl in a cubbyhole and disappear. Unfortunately, Will had a master code to their door, and no matter what Alex did, he always got in. Will did give him space, only saying hi, and talking if Alex initiated a conversation, which he didn't.
    This time, Alex thought the lock would hold. He'd gotten the computer to cancel every access code, and then gave it one that could only be given to the system directly through Alex's ear piece.
    He sat on his bed, like he did every day for...He didn't know how long he'd been doing this. Long enough to have grown a beard, and to need a shower. He didn't see a point taking care of himself when all he wanted was for it to end.
    He held the base to Jack's holographic image, but didn't turn it on. He couldn't bear for Jack to look at him right now. What would he think of what he'd done?
    Alex thought Tristan wouldn't care, or he might be impressed. It wasn't as much as the alien had killed at once, but in his twisted mind, he would probably see a high body count as something to be proud of.
    Not that Alex cared about Tristan. Jack was the only one who mattered, and Jack had been gentle. Would he be able to stand Alex, now that he was a mass murderer? He wanted to hear Jack say he understood, that Alex had been in an impossible situation and had done the best he could, but when he closed his eyes, Jack wasn't forgiving.
    His nightmare now revolved around Variations on Jack pushing him away. Sometime he turned him over to the authority and testified against him, telling them how much of a monster Alex was. Other time he acted as the instrument of vengeance of Alex's victims, Cutting and making Alex suffer as much as Alex imagined they had suffered.
    As a result, he slept even less then normal. He could stand Tristan terrorizing his nights, but Jack was suppose to be his comfort, not someone to fear.
    He wished gods were real. Or that at least he believed in one of them. If he did, he could take the Defender out from under the bed and ask it for forgiveness.
    His stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten anything since the tray of food Will had brought him in the morning, and he'd hadn't touched much of it. A bit of the bacon and eggs. He'd told Will to take it away after that.
    Like with cleaning himself, Alex didn't see a point in eating. He should find that funny, considering he'd loved eating before. If not for the fact that he clung onto the hope that Jack would still want him, he'd simply end it.
    The lock beeped as someone tried to enter. Alex glanced at it, and it beeped a few times. It looked like he had finally managed to lock Will out. The lock's display went dark, then came back on, and the door opened.
    Alex wanted to be angry that Will had gotten the better of him, but he didn't have the energy. He looked at the tray of food Will set down, and Alex debated again not eating any of it.
    When will left, Alex had eaten a few bites of the steak and drank the fruit juice. He didn't bother trying to lock Will out after this. He'd exhausted his bag of tricks. Will was simply better at this.
    By the sounds of the ship, he kept track of the number of ships they attacked; three. The captain didn't ask for Alex's help. Alex suspected it was because he'd been horrified at how Alex had blown up the ship, and he didn't want to risk that happening again.
    At some point after the first attack, Will dragged Alex to the gym. Alex wanted to refuse, but he couldn't work up the energy anymore. Even when people talked about how impressed they'd been at what he'd done, Alex no longer cared.
    He went through the exercise Will gave him, because it was easier to go along than to argue with him. Alex saw less and less point in what he was doing.
    Once, after exercising, he cross path with Anders on his way back to his room. He wanted the man to hurt him, as he'd promised he'd do, but while Anders sneered at him and threw insult his way, he kept his distances.
    * * * * *
    When the ship docked to the station, Alex pulled himself out of bed, showered and shaved. By the length of his beard, it had been a few months. He walked off the ship without talking to anyone. He hadn't planned it that way, he hadn't planned at all. He just needed to get away.
    How long, he didn't know.
    The station was in good shape, and the people looked to have a comfortable life. He didn't know what he was looking for there, but he found himself following the people having the liveliest conversations. He couldn't tell what they were talking about, but they were enjoying it.
    As they walked, the alleyways became more crowded, to the point where people pushed against each other, but at no time were voices raised, or angry shoving happen.
    The conversations mixed and Alex had no idea what anyone said, but the comfort everyone had with each other, the happiness he could hear in the tones, slowly ate away at his numbness. Alex even found himself smiling as two kids, no older than five, chased each other around the adult's legs.
    When the crowd thinned slightly, it was because they'd reached a wide room. He couldn't tell how large, because where people didn't block his view, booths did.
    He was in a market place. The realization froze him, and people walked around him without complaining. He looked up, for a moment thinking he'd see the sky, but all he saw were lamps. Of course there was no sky, he was inside a box, just like the one he'd walked off not so long ago.
    But he couldn't believe the difference this made. This normality of people walking through booths, buying wares or just looking, like he was. The more he walked among them, the better he felt, and he realized that this was what he'd been missing since leaving Deleron Four.
    Normality. Nothing on the ship had been normal. He made sense, it was a ship, a pirate ship at that, and the one other time he got off it, he ended up in a bar fight and then chasing down the Defender, not exactly normal for him.
    He smelled meat and spices, and realized he was hungry, no, famished. He followed the scents and came to a booth with cloth walls and no roof. Cookers were lined up with pots on them. In them were bubbling liquids that smelled of spices and fruits and meats.
    "What is this?" Alex asked the woman standing behind them.
    She looked at him, a confused expression on her face. She said something Alex didn't understand. For a moment he thought there was something wrong with his hearing. She repeated herself, and he realized she spoke a different language.
    She was human, like him, but they didn't speak the same language?
    Alex had never expected that. Sure, he'd seen vids where it was like that, but everyone knew not to trust the vid, they were for entertainment. But there he was, in front of someone who spoke a different language.
    He gestured to the pots and spoke slowly. "What-is-this?" he mined eating.
    She smiled, nodded, filled a bowl, and offered it to him.
    That wasn't what he'd intended, but it would be a way to find out what it was. He took it and he extended her hand, palms up. Right, that gesture he knew.
    He reached for his Id card, and realized he had no idea if they even took that here. They didn't speak the language, maybe they used a different system? After a moment of hesitation he reached in his pocket, it wasn't like he had anything else to pay with; only he felt a chip there, along with his ID.
    He pulled out the credit chip. Where had that come from? He didn't remember putting one there. He handed it to her. It should work. The guy he'd been at the bar with had said something about always using them. She took the payment from it and handed the chip back.
    Maybe Will had put it in his jacket? It was something to deal with later, right now he was hungry. He found a less busy corner and dug into the stew. It was as sweet as he expected, from the smell. And as best as he could determine, the sweetness came from the meat. It was quite good, although that could have been Alex's hunger speaking.
    He had a second bowl, and it was still as good. He was still hungry after it, but didn't go for a third. He'd feel lethargic if he over ate and he wanted to continue enjoying the market. He wished Jack was with him, their time at the Illomar Square had been so good.
    Thinking of Jack reminded Alex of Tristan, and the situation he was in. As much as he wanted to enjoy the market, he needed to think. It only took him a moment to find a bar on the outside of the market. It was a door in the metal wall, with a painting of a mug over it.
    On entering he was reminded of Alienation, back on Deleron Four. Enough that for a moment, he thought he was looking at aliens, instead of other humans. It wasn't the body types that gave him that impression, but the way they were dressed and moved.
    Just like the language of the woman selling the stew, not all of them moved in ways Alex found normal.
    There was a group of four at a corner table, dressed in bright colors, but barely moving as they talked. At another table, two woman wore stiff garbs that felt religious to Alex, with their subdued shades of red and purple. The two spoke loudly, pointing to the others in the bar. A running commentary? Alex thought.
    On his way to the counter, he walked by a group dressed in brown robes who held their children close to them, as if they were afraid someone would steal them.
    Alex was amazed at how different people could be. "Do you serve Golden Hour here?" he asked the man behind the bar.
    Alex got a confused expression back and words that sounded a lot like what the woman had said when he'd asked about the food. Alex sighed, okay, people being different could get tiresome after a while. He checked the bottles behind the bar and pointed to one he recognized, then handed the credit chip.
    He peeked at the readout as the man scanned it, it had over three thousand credits on it. That was a lot of money. He would have to ask will. With the chip back in his pocket and his glass in hand Alex found a free table.
    He made a face as he took a sip of his drink. Not what he preferred.
    So what was he going to do? Just how badly did he want to reach Samalia? Well, he had to get there, of that he had no doubt, but did he have to get there so fast he had to put his integrity in danger? Well, in more danger than it already was after everything he'd done.
    What would Jack think of him? The feelings from his nightmares came back and he shuddered. He drank half his glass to give himself something else to react to.
    Alex wanted to see him so badly he was reluctant to delay his arrival, but he was terrified of what he'd become if he stayed on the ship. That thought got him to finish his drink and he cursed quietly. He hadn't meant to drink this fast. He'd wanted to make this last, to give himself time to think.
    He got a refill and turned to head back to his table. "Careful there buddy," someone said, grabbing his arm before Alex knocked his drink in to the other man's chest.
    "Sorry," Alex said, and he had a flash of a memory. Alex turning and running into Jack. This man wasn't Jack, he was human, and bald. He was a head sorter than Alex, with pale skin and worn clothing.
    "It's okay." The man looked Alex up and down. "Say, you're the only person here I understand. Do you mind if we share a table?"
    Alex had wanted to think some more, but being able to talk with someone was appealing after all this talk he couldn't understand. "Sure, why not?" he led the man to his table.
    "I'm Olien. I haven't seen you before, what's brought you here?"
    "Crimson," Alex replied, after a moment of hesitation. "Just passing through, I guess. You?"
    Olien looked at his hand. "Oh, I've been here for a while now. It wasn't the plan. I was on a trip, but I got into a scuffle with someone, and ended up detained. My ship left before I was released."
    "I didn't think passenger ships were allowed to leave without everyone on board."
    The man shrugged.
    Alex contemplated giving him some money, to help him out, he had more than he needed on his person, but he got a quick sense of deja-vu, and kept quiet.
    Money hadn't been involved, but the accidentally bumping into someone, the not quite sob story. It did feel familiar. Alex sipped his drink, watching the other man not watch him.
    "You haven't had any luck leaving?" Alex asked, to get the Olien talking again and try to determine if he was only being paranoid.
    "No. This place doesn't get a lot of ships, and those that come here aren't exactly reputable. I'm just hoping to be able to survive until someone trustworthy can take me off this place." Olien reached over and placed his hand over Alex's.
    Alex fought not to wrench his hand away. Jack hadn't come on to him, he'd been too ill at ease for that. Alex had been the one to suggest the help.
    "Didn't you say the ships weren't trustworthy?" Alex asked. Olien smiled at him. "I get a good feeling off you."
    Alex forced a smile. He moved his hand and interlaced his finger's with Olien's, then pushed the hand up and back, bending the man's wrist until he grimaced.
    "You're hurting me," Olien hissed, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear. He glanced around.
    This confirmed Alex's suspicions. "Who are you?" 
    "Olien, I told you."
    "You're not really stranded, are you?" 
    "Of course I-"
    Alex bend the wrist back some more.
    "Okay, okay, you got me. Just let go and I'll leave you alone."
    Alex relieved the pressure, but didn't let him go. "I'd like to talk with you."
    This surprise Olien. "Err, okay? Are you going let me go, or is this to be some sort of interrogation?"
    Alex let go of the man's hand. "I just have some question. Let me get you a drink."
    Alex was mildly surprised Olien was still there when he returned with another glass.
    "By you're reaction," Olien said, still rubbing his wrist, "I'm guessing I'm not the first one to approach you?"
    Alex nodded.
    "I guess you want to know what I'm after?"
    Alex snorted. "Money, like most people. No, what I want to know is how did you pick me?"
    Olien shrugged. "You were pensive, a little down. People in that state can use a boost and are usually trusting after that. You're not a local, so you'd be happy to come across someone else who speaks you're language."
    "How did you know I wouldn't react badly when you put your hand over mine?"
    Olien smiled. "I could tell that within a few seconds of you entering the bar. Your gaze glided over the women, but you looked the men up and down."
    Alex hadn't been aware he'd done that. "Maybe I was just trying to figure out who's a threat."
    "No, you're not a fighter. You're too at ease."
    "Okay, you're right, I have been taken in before. In a way similar to what you did, that's how I figured it out. If I hadn't, what would have happened?"
    Olien took a drink. "Depends on what you'd need. I would have picked up clues here and there, molded the persona to fit that. Made you comfortable with me, might have had sex-" Alex shook his head. "-or not. Eventually I'd have mentioned my money problems, and you would have offered to help out."
    "Just like that?"
    Olien shrugged. "People are predictable." Alex nodded. He did know that.
    Alex didn't think Tristan had made things up on the go. From what he'd read, Tristan was technologically inclined. He had probably coerced a system into revealing Alex's information. He'd had to go through a psychological evaluation as part of applying for the position at Luminex. Everything Tristan needed to manipulate Alex was in there.
    "How do you handle me having to go away for a while? Lets say going back to my ship for something?"
    "That depends on how long you take. I can remember how I was acting for a few days, specially if I don't go after anyone else. Usually I disappear once my mark leaves me. It's too easy for me to forget a detail when they come back"
    "What do you mean, forget a detail?"
    "What I do, it's just an act. Once you're gone, I have to go back to being me, so I can deal with my own stuff. I can't keep track of everything for too long."
    Alex stiffened.
    Jack had been an act? Was it possible there wouldn't be a Jack to rescue by the time Alex found Tristan? No, he refused to believe that. Jack had been too real to have been merely an act.
    Still, how far apart were they by now? Years? No, it couldn't be that long. Tristan still had to reach Samalia, same as Alex, he'd be in cryo for the trip. Each stop Alex ship made widened their distance, but that had only been six month, seven at the most. So they had to be under a year apart.
    Each second's delay increased the chances jack would be gone for good. With a soft curse Alex stood. He flicked the credit chip to Olien.
    "What's that for?"
    "There's three thousand on it. It's payment for the information you gave me. I have to go."
    Alex had to get back to the ship and talk with the captain.