Disclaimer: Me? Who me? Nope, not me!

Yes, here's another Clirage! Only this one is an AU. I'm using all the same characters and places in the game, only with a twist. You'll see. There's a lot here that will be what you are used to and a lot that will be different.

Right now, other couples are undecided. This will focus mainly on Mirage. Yes, I'm a rabid Mirage fan…ask CAT!

When it comes to communication either over the intercom or through any other digital means dashes will be used to emphasize that. (Ex: -hello-)

I'M RE-WRITING THIS! Chapter by chapter I'll be attempting to improve, clarify and simply edit things to flow a bit better. I usually don't have anyone proofread, not because no one will but because I like to see how far I'll get on my own. I'm stubborn… So, edited chapters will include the dates below, unedited chapters will not – I didn't want to take the whole thing down but I can only do bit by bit. I'll be editing when I have no inspiration to write new stuff.

Warning, editing means longer chapters!

Original version: 2/4/06

Update started: 4/6/07

Update completed: 4/8/07

Introduction

Fear.

That was the essence that sustained her.

At first, she couldn't move as a new phobia nested in her gut. She heard her heart beat heavily. Each eardrum resonated with the sound of every thump of blood as it pumped rapidly through her veins. Immobility engulfed her. Though she felt no restraints she was unable to lift even a finger.

Eyes were closed. Her head felt on the verge of an implosion. Nausea kept its hold on her throat and her head spun with the simple task of opening her eyes. Slowly, using a force of pure will, each eye was pried open one at a time.

A light, bright and unfriendly, greeted her vision. The contents of her stomach stirred. Instinct alone allowed her to keep herself from regurgitation. The edges of her vision cleared to reveal a fluorescent light. The radiance stung her eyes, but moving her sight proved to be a task in itself. Painfully slow, her eyes diverted from the light and to the clean white ceiling overhead.

As she turned her head slightly pain struck like lightning through her neck. Unwillingly a moan escaped her lips. The vibrations in her throat left her mouth course and dry.

"Whoa there," a voice rang from her side. The voice of the man, though he spoke only above a whisper, penetrated her ears with such force she almost passed out. A warm hand accompanied the disembodied voice and came to rest on her cheek.

"Don't try to move so fast. You need to take it slow and easy."

"Easy for him to say," she thought. "He isn't the one who aches in every possible place to ache. He's not lying flat on his back with no clue as to what is going on!"

She tried to open her mouth but failed. Her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth like cotton and her throat was too sore for words. She grunted softly only to cause her throat to burn.

"Just hold still a bit." The hand moved to her eyes. Each lid was pulled up, wide open, and a light directed into them one at a time. It was annoying, not to mention it added one more notch on the headache scale she currently had going. She knew instantly at that time she did not like this man. Not at all.

"How are her stats?" His voice carried over her again.

"My stats? Am I in a hospital? I guess that would explain the nice bright light above me."

Though she could curse the man through mental thoughts, she was helpless to take any action. That was the root of her fear. She was helpless and still had no idea as to what was going on.

"Everything appears normal. She should be right as rain after one more injection," a new voice replied. The new voice was feminine in nature and it only heightened her fear.

It seemed that everything scared her at the time. She couldn't recall a single day of her life. It was clear to her she was in a hospital of sorts and they were going to inject her. Not only that, but by the sound of it, it wouldn't be the first injection they gave her. She might be suffering from memory loss, but she did know she hated needles. It would seem that some things, despite the circumstances, never change.

"Good," the man replied. Both figures were out of her sight. She couldn't see anyone or anything but that spot on the ceiling. She aimed her animosity toward that spot. She needed something to blame and that spot was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Get it ready. Now Miss, don't worry. You'll be going to sleep soon and when you wake up you'll find it easier to move. The pain will be gone, trust me."

"Trust him? Who's he kidding?" His voice might have been warm and soothing, but there was something buried deep in it that caused all her internal alarms to ring. Something wasn't right here and she was stuck in the middle of it.

She felt a pinch in her neck. It stung, but compared to the pain she felt everywhere it was easily ignored. After just seconds she felt herself drifting toward sleep. She wasn't sure she wanted to sleep but she couldn't stop herself. She took a little solace in knowing that the pain would subside while she slept. It was very little comfort, but it was something.

"I just wish I knew what the hell was going on."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dragonfly's Fire

Chapter One

Awareness of Tenue

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When she woke she was flat on her back (again). Her eyes opened instantly upon command with no side effects of illness. The nausea she had felt was gone, taking with it the soreness in her throat and the awful headache. It was a small thing; but she was thankful, none the less.

She sat up and surveyed her environment. She was surrounded by trees. There was no artificial light, only the sun hanging over head. As she stood, she squinted to peer beyond the green foliage. Trees. That was all there was to see. A bounty of fresh, thriving trees.

"If I wasn't confused before, which I was, I am now."

Testing each leg, she stood. Recalling all the aches she had experienced with clarity, she instinctively placed a hand on her neck. The place in which the injection had been given was no sorer than the rest. She was pain free and fine.

"What is going on here?" she asked out loud. Of course, no one answered. She hadn't expected a response since she had already determined she was alone. She studied the area again. She couldn't just stand there all day. She needed to get moving. She needed answers to all the questions she had.

Where was she? What had happened? Where were the people who were in the room earlier? What had they done to her? Who was she?

"Who am I?" she asked. She thought hard on that question. Who she was, she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything. Who she was… where she was from. Nothing. Her mind was a blank.

She looked to the ground in a futile attempt to recall even the smallest of things. She pried at any ghost of a memory which would linger. Unfortunately, nothing was to be found. She couldn't remember anything. Her mind was a clean canvas.

Keeping her attention on the ground below, she turned to see if she had dropped anything. The ground was empty of anything but fresh footprints. This left the only alternative of checking herself.

She wore a shirt with sleeves reaching the top of each elbow. It was navy blue in color, not a very becoming color either. Over that she wore a black vest. To accompany the somber ensemble, she donned black shorts reaching knee level. On each arm she wore gloves, ending high above each elbow and each finger was exposed from the black cloth. High cut boots finished her wardrobe. Unsurprisingly, they were also black.

She was beginning to question if she wanted to know who she was. Going on the only clue she had, she determined she had no taste for clothing. A little color would have been nice. Something to make her feel like she could have possible been a fun person. Well, maybe not too much color. Being seen as a clown would have disturbed her even more.

The pockets of her shorts provided no help. However, in the inside pocket of the vest she found some fol and a card. She replaced the money and studied the hard plastic. The card sported a picture of a woman, in her late twenties with blonde hair and warm blue eyes.

"Is this me," she mumbled under her breath as a finger ran over the photo. There was no way for her to be sure until a mirror could be found.

Under the picture was a single word. In bold letters the word Mirage was printed neatly. Flipping it to inspect the back did nothing but provide a bar code.

"Mirage," she said at normal volume, letting the word roll off her tongue. It didn't spark one ounce of recognition. It didn't sound much like a name either. Still, it was the only clue she had. If asked a name that would be what she would provide. She only hoped that if she met anyone they didn't ask a last name. Or any other details for that matter.

Tenderly, as if holding on to the only thread to reality she had left, she placed the card back into the pocket. Patting the spot on the vest close to her heart where the items were tucked, she chose a direction at random. Anything was better than standing still. The sun was high but would soon enough set and she wanted to find anything she could before nightfall.

Her mind continuously wandered back to the room as she walked. Cold and lifeless, that room was her earliest memory. There had been two people there that she knew of. Perhaps there had been more, but she had seen no one and only heard the man and woman.

After hours of turning these thoughts every direction she could; a subtle fear once again seated itself in the pit of her stomach. Something was not right. Something had been done to her. There was no idea of what, but she knew that her memory loss was connected to the 'doctors' somehow.

By the time she drug her unwilling mind from the (what she hoped was) recent past, she noticed the terrain had changed. The land started to slope upward and the ground was littered with pebbles. The pebbles grew and became rocks. Rocks become boulders. And one such boulder blocked her path.

Upon inspection she was dismayed to find no way around it. To the left was a sudden drop and to the right was another slope too slick to walk up. Before her brain could convey her own actions, she was climbing the boulder with such ease she dared not stop. Instinct pushed her up and over the rocky lump.

Jumping down on the other side, she glanced once over her shoulder. The mound she had just climbed reached a few feet over her head and did not appear to be climbable upon first inspection. All she could do was conclude that she was use to such obstacles and though her memories were not in tack, her instincts would use what skills she already had.

This led to another discovery. She was in top shape. Though the appearance of muscle bound Amazon would not fit, she could clearly decipher muscle tone in her legs and arms. The climb had taken an effortless amount of energy, which meant she was accustomed to a workout. Her esteem boosted slightly.

So far all she knew was that her name might be Mirage…however, that was an odd name. Perhaps it was a company she worked for. But what kind of company would hire employees with as much dexterity and agility? Her walk and climb had hardly tired her at all.

Beyond the boulder was an open path laced with nothing but dirt. She had traveled from a flush rich environment to one that was desolate and barren. She strolled along the path, passing rocks twice her size. Nothing about it was familiar at all. It was uncomforting.

And, as she quickly learned, deadly.

She heard a noise but quickly dismissed it as the wind. There was a subtle breeze in the cool air. When the second noise issued to her left, just out her scope of vision, she knew something wasn't right.

There was someone out there. Someone who didn't want her to see them. She wasn't alone.

Then she encountered yet another discovery – she could fight. She wasn't sure why, but the area was littered with creatures ready to kill her. First it was a small group of rat type creatures. Next came things she couldn't describe as anything less then porcupines. When she had found herself confronted, her instincts had kicked in.

The outcome had resulted in the prompt removal of a threat she had walked away from scratch free. She tried to shrug it off. It would seem that the day had been filled with surprises. One thing for sure, she wanted to find somewhere to stay for the night. The horizon betrayed that night was not far off and she knew enough about herself to know she would require sleep.

As she approached the end of the path she felt a small nostalgia. She wondered if she was somewhere she had been before.

She cursed her confusion and inability to remember. All she wanted was to know who she was and what was going on. Why did she wake one time surrounded by people only to wake the second time in the middle of nowhere and alone?

Something didn't fit and something wasn't right. Fear gripped her again. Maybe something was behind this. She wasn't even sure what had caused her amnesia. Or who, if there was someone behind it. The more thought she put into it the more determine she was to avoid anyone until she was able to remember something.

She entered a town and tried her best not to draw any attention to herself. She felt awkward and couldn't help but to let her eyes dart around suspiciously. The population on the streets was scarce, and no one gave her a second look. She almost screamed at herself. As much as she didn't want to be noticed, she couldn't help but to be irritated at the fact that no one recognized her.

Then another realization came to her. As she searched for somewhere to stay the night, she felt out of place. She might not remember who she was, or much of anything else; but she found herself in a place that didn't fit. Somehow it seemed too old fashioned to be home.

Her head started to throb. What ever was going on, her apprehension only grew with each new discovery. Something was out of place and she had no idea where to start to find answers.

After a while of searching through the town she finally found somewhere to lodge. Perhaps a good night's sleep would help her. She only hoped that the night didn't provide any more unexpected surprises.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cliff stared at the console; scrutinizing every detail. His fuse was unusually short. The sparse crew avoided him unless duty provided necessary. He had been in a foul mood ever since his meeting with headquarters. Everyone eagerly dreaded what news he may have to share with them. None of them had ever seen the man so ticked off.

Cliff ejected the disc and held it up. "Yo Fayt," he called looking at the engineer. When Fayt twisted his chair to face his captain, Cliff tossed the disc at him. Fortunately for him he caught it. "Run a scan on that will ya. Let me know if anything is out of place. And I mean if even one digit is wrong I want to know."

"Sure thing, boss," Fayt replied, inserting the disc into his own terminal.

Cliff grunted at the boy but held his tongue. It was a running joke between them and he wasn't going to allow his bad mood to interfere with one of the small details that kept his job somewhat enjoyable. Since the first day the rookie had joined his squad, he had called him boss. Cliff didn't really appreciate it but for some reason he could handle it coming from him. He figured it was only due to the resemblance Fayt had in comparison to his younger brother.

Cliff shook the memories from his head. There was no time to dwell on the past. Right now he had a job to do and he always took pride in his job. As much as he hated it at times he still felt good with a 'mission accomplished'.

"Marietta," Cliff said directing his attention to his navigator. "I'm sending a destination to you. I want us there ASAP."

"Will do, Captain."

Cliff stood and gathered the papers scattered around his terminal. Despite the fact that files could easily be transferred to disc, he preferred the 'traditional' way of file keeping. Once this mission was over, he would dispose of any hard copies. But until then, he did things his way. He stuffed the papers neatly into the folder and left the bridge.

His spacecraft wasn't large, but it still had way too many halls; in Cliff's opinion. He walked the shortest distance to the control room. The doors answered his unspoken command and opened. Inside he found just the person he needed.

"Yo Tray," Cliff said as upbeat as he could.

She looked up from her work with a questioning expression. "Don't tell me, another one?"

He chuckled, trying to make light of the subject. "How'd ya know?"

Her lips pressed hard together. "You only call me Tray when something's wrong."

He tossed the folder down beside the keypad she was working on. "Fine, you got me." He tapped the folder. "I need to know everything I can about the subject and the terrain. Think you can handle it, Maria?"

She opened the folder and studied the contents. "Hum, so this is the newest subject?" She removed the photo from the papers. "It would look like Belzeber has decided to choose a more formidable guinea pig this time."

Cliff gave her a chastising smile. "You are so cold sometimes."

"Hey, do you want someone who's all buddy buddy or do you want someone who can get the job done?"

He gave her a stern look. "It wouldn't hurt you to break that shell just a bit, you know. Yeah, your background might lead everyone else here to believe you are nothing more then a selfish anti-social kick butt crow; but you don't have us all fooled."

"Yeah, yeah," Maria responded shooing him with her hand. "Don't think you can hold that over my head for too much longer. Once my time here is done then I'm out."

He plucked the picture from her fingers and rested it on top of the opened folder. "Well, until that time just remember who you're working for. Anyway, I need any information you can get on her just as soon as possible."

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a suspicious look. "There's something different about this one huh? What is it that makes you so edgy about this case?"

Cliff glanced at the photo. He knew this wasn't the first time they had handled a situation like this. He also knew that his demeanor was giving something away. He never liked to share his personal life. That was something he would sooner forget. He turned and headed for the door.

The door opened and he took one step into the hall before answering her question. "She reminds me of someone I used to know." With that the door closed. The conversation was over.

Cliff made his way straight for his private quarters. He needed some rest and now was as good a time as any. He went through the mundane routine of removing only his top and shoes. Though the ship's clocks indicated it was only noon, in space it didn't feel like night or day.

He remained silent as he got in the small bed; resting his arm behind his head. "There's no way it's you. Pretty good look-a-like. But still not you. You've always walked the straight and narrow. They wouldn't be interested in your type."

Cliff drifted to sleep. His mind was uneasy and he tossed a bit. His 'good night' speech had done nothing to calm his suspicions.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.8 hours later.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She stirred from her sleep as the sun's rays brushed her eyelids. Fluttering to the land of the wake, she remained as she was for a brief minute. The night had provided nothing more than relief from fatigue. She had no idea she had been so tired until she had gotten into bed. Within no time she had fallen to sleep. Her night passed dream free.

Mirage sat up and scratched her head. A nightmare would have been preferred to no dreams. Any thing that would aid her in recovering her memories would be welcomed. She didn't think she had been a medical specialist, but she thought she recalled that memory loss wasn't something that would come back overnight.

She got up and stretched. In response to her movements her stomach rumbled. She realized that she had yet to eat anything since she woke in the woods. Smacking her lips, she decided to hold off on food consumption until she had more of an idea of her surroundings.

She glanced around the room, noticing it for the first time. It was simple with only a bed and a dresser. Over the dress was a mirror. Resting under the mirror was a bowl, a white cloth and a comb.

The first thing she did was look in the mirror. Sure enough she was the one from the picture in her pocket. Only unlike her picture her hair was unkempt and her face was pledged with dirt. She ran her fingers over her cheeks. What she wanted to do now was take a nice long shower.

The room she was in was nothing more than a room. There was no bath attached. Her only option was to use the items left and do the best she could. Once the white cloth was damp she washed her face. The dirt was stubborn, but her efforts paid off.

Once she was satisfied with her face she pulled her hair down from the tattered braid and attempted to bush it with the comb. The task was frustrating as her hair proved too thick. She sat on the bed and did the best she could with the only thing she had to make herself look decent. After separating her hair many times she was able to bush it somewhat.

She observed her work in the mirror. Without thinking she set to replacing the braid. She didn't feel clean or presentable but it would have to do until she found a place to shower, was able to buy a brush and hopefully a change of cloths.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-You understand right? This time we need her back alive.- The detached voice of Wittcomb leaked from the speakers on Cliff desk.

"It's not like we wanted to bring the last two back in a body bag, you know. It's just that the treatment makes them crazy or something. Trust me; we won't kill anyone we don't have to." Cliff leaned back in his chair. It was times like this he was reminded why he hated his job.

-Good. I'll be waiting for an update at the earliest possible time. Until then try to lighten up a bit. You have changed and I'm not sure I like it much.-

Cliff chuckled. "Well, what do you want? You want me to treat my job like I treated my education back in college?"

Cliff could hear the scowl on Wittcomb's face through the speaker. -You know what I mean. It's been a while since we had the chance to just go out and talk about old times. After this mission we should. I think it might do you some good.-

"Yeah, are you sure Annie would approve? She never liked me from the moment we meet."

-Annie never hated you. She just thought you were a bad influence on me. You sure did a total one-eighty, Fitter. You always got in trouble in college but now you're the one we send after the trouble makers.-

"It's like they say: Takes one to know one. I find it somewhat fulfilling to nab guys that deserve to do time. I might have been a trouble maker, but these guys are just bad."

-Fair enough. Don't keep me waiting too long to hear back from you.-

"You got it, Commander."

-One last thing, Fitter. Don't make this a personal vendetta.-

Before Cliff could respond, Wittcomb had ended the transmission.

"Personal vendetta? That can only imply…"

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Enter."

Maria entered his office and sat in the chair across from him. "Got the info you requested." She passed the folder over the desk. "Anything else you need?"

"Yeah, now you can go and check the weapons inventory. Calibrate what needs calibration and try to select weapons that are suitable for the environment. We need to keep a low profile."

Maria stood and nodded. "Gotcha."

Cliff watched the blue haired teen as she walked away. "Oh, have you already sent the proper papers to communications?"

"Yeah, Sophia's working on that now. She said she would be ready to debrief us shortly."

Cliff waited until the door shut behind her to open the file. He was both hesitant and eager to learn what he could about the new subject. As for the terrain, he would wait for Sophia to fill them all in on her analysis.

He pulled the personal report out and scanned over it.

NAME: Mirage Koas

AGE: 27

RACE: Klausian

GENDER: Female

PLACE OF BIRTH: Dustin Valley, Klaus III

OCCUPATION: Current instructor of the Koas dojo in Dustin Valley.

EDUCATION: Associates degree in advanced compounding. Bachelor's degree in engineering.

SKILLS/ABILITIES: Top female fighter on Klaus III in the area of hands on hands sparing. She shows leadership and mentoring skills through her job, though tends to avoid too much social interaction when outside the dojo.

NOTES: Mirage Koas was reported missing two weeks ago by the manager of the apartment complex she lives in. Shortly afterward her father also reported her missing when she did not visit him at the rest home. Her current whereabouts are unknown.

"Not anymore," Cliff mumbled to the incoherent paper. He put the paper back in the folder and set it on his desk. He left his office and headed for the bridge. "So, it is you. What are you doing mixed up in this mess, Mirage? I was the trouble maker and you were the sensible one. When I find that Belzeber then there will be hell to pay."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Blue's Afterthoughts:

Chapter one is edited. I'm sure there are some added errors since I added more text, but I hope it was better and less rushed. New ideas seem to rush from my brain and in a futile attempt get them down they seem to race through.

This goes with the challenge for an amnesic Clirage fic - sorta (See the SO Forum Fun! forum by those Crazy Authoresses). After 'Inside My Heart' I just fell in love with writing this couple.

When I get in the mood to write mystery/suspense then I work on this one. And I think that this writing style is my favorite to write. I love to attempt humor and my angst fic is the first one of those I've done so I have to stick with it to see if I can really pull it off – it's fun for me to challenge myself. But with this writing style it's almost like I don't have to try as hard (though I still have to work at it).