Nine

I wake up in a strange room, which seems to be the norm for me at the moment – I get blacked out and the Mogs put me in the other room – at least I'm not dead though. However, the fact that I'm not dead is still a damn mystery to me.

The room is plain, no windows and no doors, and a dull grey which makes me want to rip my eyes out. The only thing decorating the room is my chair, a table, and a chair opposite me. Not even a pot of flowers to lighten the mood.

I hear movement behind me. I try to turn my torso, to look at the approaching footstep, but as my body's bound to the rock hard chair, and the forthcoming figure is in my blind spot, it remains a mystery.

I rule out the girl immediately – she is too light-footed, and Ivan as well, despite his thunderous steps, I doubt he'll have any orders seeing me soon. The steps were powerful; it belonged to someone full of purpose and confidence.

"I am General Andrakkus Sutekh," he announces

He made his way to the chair opposite me, taking a leisurely pace. He's making certain that he's the one in control, he does what he pleases. However, I've never really been good at taking hints.

"I would say lovely weather we're having but I don't have a window, so I wouldn't know, in fact I have no freaking clue whether it's day or night. And I don't want to lie to someone in such a high position as you," I say dryly while putting my feet on the table.

The General ignores me, finally sitting down in the chair, his posture rigid, "I have no time for you not cooperating. We know exactly where your friends are – the other Garde, and to avoid them having a fate like your little girlfriend – you will answer accordingly.

That stung like some had poured salt over a fresh wound. Maddy and her nice ass, and her pretty smile, and the way she screamed for help as she was about to die. And now good old General goes and brings it up.

I swallow, "How do I know you're not lying?"

He look regal as he turned his face to the side, all angles with sharp cheekbones, sharp nose and a sharp jaw, "Would you like to find out the hard way?"

I grimace, as a threat of a smile tugs at his lips.

"No, I thought not," the General states.

"What do you want from me?" I say, wincing at the cliché of it. I could have said anything, even a line from Batman, and it would have sounded better than that. Better than an ignorant, bratty girl.

"How many Garde are there?" He asks.

"Nine, but you killed three of us," I lie for little Ella's sake – if they think she's just a little human tagging along for the ride, maybe they'll forget about the little kid I only knew for a few minutes, giving her the advantaged.

The table pressed against my abdominals as the General repeats "How many Garde are there?"

I search into his ink black eyes, not sure what I'm looking for, "You already know the answer, so why ask me?"

"To see if you wish for your friends to remain alive," the General asserts.

And for once, I don't see Mogadorians for mindless creatures following a powerful leader. I see the General as someone who is intelligent acting on his own accord, he believes Setrákus Ra, and is not brain washed by him. Someone who could challenge us physically and mentally and he wants to make me feel smaller.

Compared to his seven foot frame, I am small. Even sitting down, if I looked directly at him, I would be staring at his dry crackly lips and his pointed to chin. My shoulders hunch slightly as I look down at the floor.

"The Mogadorians in Virginia assured me you weren't the submissive type," his lips widen showing sharp teeth, "Perhaps they were wrong."

I stare defiantly at him, gathering saliva in my mouth, and spitting at him right in the eye. He looks complacently at me as he gently wipes the spit away from his face, "Do that again and you're friends are dead, as are you since your purpose is over."

"And would you care to form me in what my purpose is," I ask cynically, ignoring the desperate urge to know.

"To stay alive," the General smiles, a cruel sardonic one.

I grind my teeth and close my eyes, think of the others – Johnny boy and his lost and confused face when flirting with girls and how his face lit up at the thought of Sarah, little Ella with big eyes, shy tall Marina who looked at Eight if there was a bond binding them and Eight who reserved a special smile for Marina. Even if I only knew some of them for a few minutes, before I disappeared from the battle field completely, before awaking in this Mog prison. And I think how I want them to live a little longer, to maybe figure things out, even if that kills me.

And I think about how I almost gave up the Loric dream, last night or whenever. When I felt so lost, alone and belittled, with an emptiness gnawing at my stomach and a grenade in my brain. That time when I lost the will to live, and was so fractionally close to yell at the Mogadorians to end my life. But then I held it in and hoped it would get better.

Unfortunately, life has failed to become better.

"Anything else you want," I finally say after minutes of silence, taking my feet off the table tucking them behind my knees.

"Do you know where your ship is?" the General asks. He knows the answer to this question.

"Dulce," I say dully and the General nods. Although faintly I remember being alongside John and seeing another ship in the tablet, but I don't mention that, which gives me strange hope that they don't know about that ship either.

"General," a female voice emerges, it's her voice, instead of her usual melodic tone, it was slightly dull, "I have done what has been commanded."

The General doesn't even bother to look at her, "Come here, I need to check if he's lying."

She walks into my view, and instead of the black fitted suit that she usually wears, she is dressed up like a normal teenager; skinny jeans, high heeled boots, a tight top, and a leather jacket. She was similarly dressed to the girls that came in the Penthouse with Sandor for a one night stand.

I had questions about why she was dressed like that and where had she been, but the questions are put off by the curve of her ass and how low cut her top is, and that if she wasn't with the Mogadorians, things would be very different.

"How was Colorado?"

She doesn't acknowledge me and leans against the table next to the General, she raises her eyebrows questioningly at him, and he responds with a cool ice stare. She shrugs her shoulders and looks forwards, still avoiding me, "Great. Get on with it."

The General scowls, his attention turns to me, "Where is your next destination?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know, we never planned it."

The General looks at her with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity and for the first time she looks at me in certain disbelief, "He's not lying. They actually have no idea."

The General clasps his hands together, and this is the softest I have ever seen him look and he still looks like he's ready to destroy a little kid's dream or perhaps eat a little puppy for breakfast. Or heck, maybe even both.

I curse myself silently – I could have refused to talk, or maybe suggest about going back to Ohio, it seems logical – there's plenty there we need to search, like Sam's house – Johnny's little friend, who may be dead or alive. But I made the Loric look stupid and unprepared, we could have used fear of surprise as a weapon, but we haven't thought that through.

"What legacies do you have – and what the others are known to have?" the General asks.

Shit. If I don't answer the question truthfully – everyone's dead, and if I do – everyone's dead. I frantically look for an excuse of not answering; I suppose they wouldn't let me go to the bathroom, and both eyes are staring at me.

I try not to think of the others, just repeating 'I am Nine and I will return to Lorien' in my head, relaxing and rearranging my thoughts.

"Uh," I stutter, the General smiles cruelly his teeth similar to his face – all sharp angles and a lust for bloodshed, and he impatiently taps his fingers on the table.

Her face is unreadable; an expression so blank, I wonder if time's paused. However, the strumming of fingers on the table is the only thing that ensures me time is moving. She just has an eerily way of being absolutely still.

"Well… I have anti-gravity, telekinesis, and I can hear pretty good..."

"The correct grammar is well. Or do you lack intelligence as well as battle tactics," she corrects.

I continue after the rude interruption, "I can hear well…"

She interrupts once again, "General, this is pointless."

I've never seen her so restless, she usually takes things with a calm, knowing attitude, aside from making several snide comments, she's usually rude, but never in an open matter. Man, someone put something in her juice this morning. I bet it was Ivan.

It seems clear that the General isn't used to this behaviour. Although the General probably isn't usually spoken to like that, he's the person who demands respect just by his stance. His eyes watch her carefully, "I should warn you..."

"Threats are pointless. Just like asking something we already know – like his legacies. Why waste time asking what is already known? It won't make us progress. Ra wants to find out about how well each can fight, previous training, future plans and you wouldn't want to disobey his orders and ask unnecessary questions. Would you general?" She says cool.

Both I and the General look at her, face slightly agape. If I didn't know any better, I would believe she had just threatened the General.

His face begins to redden, crawling up his skin like a rash, his breaths are short steep and shallow. He's trying to compose himself, maybe there's a law for a high ranking Mogadorian not to attack another high ranking Mogadorian. I'm not sure, but there's only one way to find out.

Her violet eyes almost look a dark blue as she turns to me and asks, "Who do you think is Pittacus Lore?"

I look downwards. I have an urge to say it's me, to claim that I'm the most powerful of the Garde, I can beat Johnny boy in my sleep and I feel alive when I fight. But then I think of the same conviction Four felt when declaring he was Pittacus Lore, positive no one else could possibly even have that claim. And I don't know what to say, and when my mouth begins to form a sentence the General disturbs.

"It is my job to ask the questions."

"I hope you will meet Setrákus Ra's expectations on that matter," she replies, an innocent, calm look on her expression with a hard glint in her eyes.

"That will be all," the General stands up and processes out of the room, announcing "Loric scum" before he leaves.

"Now that was childish," I say, "And that's coming from me."

She purses her lips at me, her expression strange and unreadable. There is no denial she is beautiful, the curve of her lips, the height of her cheekbones, and the fierceness in her eyes. She burns bright in the darkness in the Mogadorian room.

The more I stare at her, I begin to feel incredibly dreary, I yawn and my hands drop dead to my sides, "I think I'm going to take a nap now. Questioning really takes it out of you."

The last thing I see before submerging into darkness is those captivating eyes.

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Author's note: I apologise for not updating in so long; I've had to deal with GCSEs – but on the plus side, next week on Monday they're finished!