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Lights Out and Shoot Up The Station 9 of ? - The Tribe Fanfiction Exchange Community
Lights Out and Shoot Up The Station 9 of ?
Title: Lights Out and Shoot Up The Station 9 of ?
Pairing or Characters: Patsy, Siva and OC
Word Count: 1973
Rating: PG-13, with a particular bit of grim detail.
Disclaimer: Set just before the Technos invasion of the City, and with a little time jump when the Mallrats have just sailed away from said City. This is some background info on where Patsy and Solange are in the narrative when we meet them next : D I hope it's not tooo confusing : D Bye, Bye.. love you lol...

Patsy clocks the girl the moment she strolls into the bar, she sticks out like a sore thumb, her pretty face contorted into a look of disgust.

The girl's long red tinted braids, hit a cord, but Patsy quickly swallows it down along with the dregs of her glass. Her chest burns, and she waves the girl over with the crook of her index finger.

The girl follows, stopping in front of the table Patsy is currently occupying.

“Did we really have to meet in a place like this?” The girl whines, as she drags over a nearby stool.

“Oh I'm sorry Commander Siva, I thought you wanted are little meeting in secret.”

The colour from Siva's face suddenly drains away, panic replacing distaste.

Can you keep it down.” She whispers anxiously.

Patsy can't help but smile, resting her elbows against the back of her chair.

“Do you seriously believe you can pull the wool over anybody's eyes, just because your in that get up. You look like a Techno, you walk like a Techno, and you are a Techno.” Patsy spits in contempt, her eyes shifting over Siva's attempt at a disguise, which doesn't amount to anything more that a tatty grey hoodie, and a pair of faded jeans.

“Yeah well, I could say the same about you.” Siva shoots back.

You, don't exactly look like an assassin.”

That's the point, Patsy thinks, but lets the comment slide.

Well, maybe I'll pay you folks a visit up on the hill one day...oh wait, that's right you're leaving us soon aren't you.” She smirks, reaching for the brown glass bottle perched on the edge of the scarred, and battered table top.

“How do you know about that?” Siva asks nervously.

Patsy lets her hang, while she fills her own glass, the white liquid almost spilling over the rim.

“It's funny the things you hear.” She shrugs.

A boy in a baseball cap floats behind them, and Siva begins to fidget nervously.

“Is he with you?” Patsy enquires, nodding in the direction of the boy, catching sight of just a flash of bleached hair.

She pushes her own bleached fringe up out of her eyes, dragging a strand of hair behind one ear.

“Let's just get down to it.” Siva dodges the question confirming Patsy suspicion.

Patsy keeps one eye on the boy now hovering awkwardly at the bar.

They should wear signs.

Silently Patsy weights up her options, running one finger over the hilt of the hunting knife on her belt, she reckons she could have the bottle at her side over Siva's head, and the vocal cords of the boy, before either of them new much about it.

“I want you to find my sister.” Siva slides a video screen across the table towards it.

Patsy takes a moment to study the image of a girl sandwiched awkwardly between Siva, and another almost identical looking taller girl.

“Her name is Solange.”

Solange looks uncomfortable to say the least, she's also somewhat of an ugly duckling when posed between the other two radiant girls.

“Has she wandered off the reservation?” Patsy's eyebrow quirks, as she raises her glass up to her lips.

She still remembers her first taste of alcohol, how it had caused her head to spin, and how most days the only peace and sanctuary she can find is contained at the bottom of a bottle.

“I want it to stay that way.” Siva responds, keeping her voice low.

“So, you want me to waste her?”

Patsy watches as an expression of horror forms on the other girl's face, marring her features.

She's my sister!” Siva exclaims.

It's interesting to note that even Technos have limits.

“I want you to find her, and I'll pay you to keep her safe. If she's still alive, she'll need someone to watch out for her. She's not like,” The sentence suddenly dries up, half formed on Siva's mouth.

“I don't do babysitting.” Patsy warns, desperation is stamped over the other girl's face.

Name your price. You want power, food, batteries, booze, I can get it for you, and I can make sure you have an unlimited supply.”

Patsy quickly waves over a scantily clad waitress, ordering a glass for Siva.

“I'm listening.”


The heat of the mid-day simmers over the field, causing even the bumble-bees to sound drowsy.

“I asked around town, they said this was the place to find your sister.” Patsy announces as strides through the waist high golden spears of corn, nodding backwards in the direction of the run down dump of a town called Liberty.

The sudden sound of crying halts her step.

“Solange.” She calls out to her travelling companion.

A shadow moves in the corn, and without pausing to think Patsy races towards it.

The sound of Solange's tears is something Patsy has grown use to, a soundtrack of their direction-less journey, that has lasted for over a year and a half.

Something changed along the road, Patsy not quite sure where or when, but it's not just a job any more, she wants to look after Solange, she remembers what it's like to have friends, most days she seems unable to stop herself thinking about Cloe.

Patsy finds her friend on crumpled on her knees between two graves. Time hasn't been kind to the twin mounds of earth, the flowers are dead, and the grass has begun to grow. Squinting Patsy can just about make out the names on the faded markers Java and Siva.

“She promised,” Solange sobs bitterly. “...she promised that we would be together.”

Patsy's mind wanders back to the first, and only time she met Siva, who'd been loyal and brave.

She reaches out resting the palm of her hand against Solange's heaving shoulders, catching a flash of the indelible mark on her hand that is her Mallrat's pentagram tattoo, the thorn in her conscience.

He did this!” The venom contained within Solange's tone, catches Patsy slightly off balance.

Without asking she knows the He is Ram, the spectre, which has haunted them through forests, and hills, towns and villages.

Patsy slips down onto her knees next to her friend, feeling the hard earth beneath her body.

“He killed them, both of them. He's taken my eye, and now he's murdered my sisters!”

Patsy only asks one question.

“What, are you going to do about it?”

Silence falls, and she watches as Solange dabs at her cheeks with the fabric of her sleeves.

The quiet doesn't last long, Solange launches herself onto Java's gave, tearing at the grass, and soil with her uneven nails.

I promised myself something, and now I'm going to get it.”

They make their way back into Liberty just as the sun is setting over the distant hills. The town is eerily quiet, a chill rushes down her spine causing Patsy to clutch the fabric of her travelling coat tighter.

Solange shuffles behind her in something of a daze, covered in mud and dust, and carrying in her backpack the gruesome trophy of Java's tongue.

At this stage in her life not much can really turn Patsy's stomach, but watching Solange as she cut the swollen tongue out of a festering corpse had just about done it.

Patsy is in desperate need of a strong dose of alcohol, her eyes are drawn towards the words Ruby's Saloon like a magnet on a fridge.

“In here.” She pulls Solange roughly in the direction of the Saloon.

The bolted doors give way to the force of Patsy's boot.

A cloud of dust envelopes them.

The Saloon's interior is shadowy, the outline of a long table, and a cluster of chairs, and abandoned glasses greet them.

Cobwebs, and the smell of emptiness overwhelms the space.

“Sit there.” Patsy guides the mute Solange to one of the chairs, watching as the girl rests her head against the dusty surface of the table.

“Whoever was here it looks like they left in a hurry, no-ones been in here since.” Patsy's thoughts are now almost entirely taken up by the length of the bar, a dozen half filled bottles dancing before her eyes.

She'd kill them both for a drink, which would sort of defeat the point.

Patsy still remembers the sight of Lex wobbling around The Mall drunk, at the time it had been funny, now all she can think is that she doesn't understand how all of them weren't wasted most of the time.

Life is too hard to spend it sober, it's not the best motto in the world, but it's the only one Patsy finds useful.

The love of her short life calls, and Patsy dutifully hops over the bar, her itchy fingers tightening around the neck of a nearby bottle. She twist the cap, and without thinking drains what's left of the amber coloured liquid inside.

It slips down her throat like fire, heat spreads up from her stomach, colouring her cheeks.

Whoever left this place, left it in a hurry, the hackles on the back of her neck begin to rise, but Patsy tries her best to dismiss her misgivings.

Her attention distracted, Patsy doesn't notice that they have company until a boy glad in the remains of a Techno uniform is looming over Solange.

“We're closed!” Patsy barks, her grip tightening on the bottle.

The Techno ignores her, behind him she catches the glimpse of a bunch of rag-tag looking Technos crowded around the Saloon's now re-opened doors.

Solange glances up gasping suddenly, catching sight of the stranger standing over her.

General Solange, they told us you were dead.” The boy addresses Solange with a shaking, reverential tone of voice.

Patsy's surprised that he managed to recognise Solange, given that half of her face is now obscured by a dirty bandage, and her long brown and red braids have been cropped short.

Patsy feels Solange's eye trained on her, desperate in the half light.

“I don't know...” Are the only words Solange manages to form before the Techno cuts her short.

You've returned to lead us.” He drops to the floor in front of Solange.

“No please don't, please get up...please, don't do this. I don't want this.” The sound of her anxious begging falls on deaf ears as the group at the door begins to slowly collect inside the bar.

Patsy's gaze shifts over the group, mostly starving and dirty, they all appear to be completely useless without the direction of a leader.

She stops herself from thinking about The Chosen, she's closed the door on that for good.

The situation rests of the tip of a knife edge, and Patsy has no desire in being lynched today.

“I'm the General's,” She not sure what title to appoint herself. “Official Body-guard, the General is tired from her journey.”

Patsy makes her way back around the bar, tugging a slack jawed Solange up out of her seat.

What are you doing?” She whispers against Patsy's ear.

Trust me.” Patsy attempts a smile, which forms on her face in the shape of a grimace.

Get up stairs, and we'll try and think this thing through.” She adds quickly.

Solange nods, and Patsy addresses the cluster of Technos.

“The General will rest now, but she has given me your orders...” Patsy proceeds to reel of a list of instructions from the top of her head, which amount to 1) trying to get the power back on in the Saloon, 2) pooling the resources of the group together.

After that Patsy has no idea what to do...

Current Music: My Number- The Foals

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