Slowly, she drifted back up out of the darkness of sleep. Her head felt foggy and her vision still wavered, but she was alive. And awake – but trapped in total darkness. Lyra took a few deep breaths and tried to calm the nervous energy coursing through her. She needed to be smart. Needed to figure out what happened and where she was.

As she slowly regained her composure, she remembered what happened. She recalled the bounty hunters in the marketplace. Remembered that they'd pursued her. Had herded her to an alley – and then hit her with a tranq dart. The memory came back with crystal clarity.

As her memory came back, she began to take stock of her body. She was stiff, sore and felt like she'd been beaten. Her head throbbed and there was a terrible ache in her side. She groaned and lifted her hand to her head, her arm brushing cool metal.

Lyra came to her senses and realized that she was trapped in a metal box. It was cramped and she didn't have much room to move around. It was then that she also realized her hands were encased in – something. There was no light and she couldn't see, but small metal boxes were on her wrists, a muted green light on one side of it. She flexed her fingers and could feel something covering her hands, but she didn't know what it was.

"Help me!" she cried out and beat against the metal sides of the box. "Let me out of here!"

She got no response and there were no voices in whatever room she was in. Lyra had the sensation of movement. She let out a long breath and tried to clear her mind. Tried to shove her fear and rage to the back of her mind.

"Think, dammit," she cursed under her breath. "Calm down and think."

The first set of bounty hunters said somebody wanted her for something. If Lyra had to guess, it had to do with her powers. Somebody wanted her for what she could do – or what they thought they could make her do.

So, the bounty hunters had drugged her, thrown her into a box, and now she was being transported somewhere. But where? She didn't know, but she knew it couldn't be good. Lyra squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, trying to figure out what her next move was going to be.

She growled in frustration, knowing her options were beyond limited, slamming her fist into the side of the box. A panel above slid open suddenly and she had to blink and squint her eyes, the sudden rush of light nearly blinding her.

A few moments later, her eyes adapted and she was able to look into the face of the man looking back at her through the small panel. He had pale violet-colored skin, a shock of thick, white hair with rich purple streaks, and golden colored eyes.

The man's sudden appearance sent a lance of fear straight into her heart and Lyra's breath caught in her throat.

"W – who are you?" she was finally able to croak out.

He looked at her hesitantly, as if afraid to speak. His eyes darted around nervously as if he was afraid of being seen checking up on her.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"Y – yes," she stammered. "But, I can't see how bad because I'm trapped in this box. Can you let me out?"

He looked around and she saw the hesitance in his face. Lyra knew this could be her only chance to get out of the box and figure out what in the hell was going on. She let out a low groan, trying to make it sound like she was in agony with the most pitiful, pathetic sounding noise she could muster.

"P – please," she said. "I – I think I'm bleeding bad. I can't see. Don't let me die in this box, mister. Please, help me."

The panel above her quickly slid shut, plunging her into darkness once more. Despair overwhelmed Lyra and she didn't know what to do. She beat her fist against the lid of the box, still trying to figure out what was on her hands.

"Please," she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help me!"

A moment later, she heard a pair of soft chimes and then a loud hissing noise. There was a loud clank and the lid slid back. She winced at the light that suddenly flooded the inside of the box, momentarily blinding her once more.

When her vision cleared, she was looking into the face of the golden-eyed man once more. He looked apprehensive. Maybe even afraid. She couldn't tell for sure.

"W – what's your name?" she asked.

He looked at her a long moment, seemingly reluctant to speak. He let out a long breath and ran a hand through a tuft of thick, white hair that fell past his shoulders.

"Dariux," he said. "Captain of the Helios."

The way he said it, with confidence and authority, made it sound like he wanted her to know that he was the man in charge. But, she saw something in his eyes that made her pause for a brief moment. There was a kindness there. A sense of compassion he couldn't hide.

Something about the way he looked at her and his demeanor told her that he was the captain of the ship, but wasn't necessarily responsible for what had happened to her. She didn't know why but got the impression that he was a middleman in all of this.

"Dariux," she said. "I'm Lyra."

"Get up," he said, his voice gruff.

Lyra struggled, but rose, gingerly stepping out of the box, her body a collection of aches and bruises. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were encased in some sort of a glove. The gloves shimmered like they were liquid or gelatinous, but they felt smooth and hard when she raised one and touched her face. Small black metal boxes were attached to her wrists, meaning they were electronics of some sort. She assumed controlled the gloves that covered her hands but had never seen anything like them.

"Bioelectrics," Dariux said.

"Bio what?"

"Bioelectrics," he replied. "The material on your hands is a biological compound but is controlled electronically. It prevents you from making skin to skin contact with anybody and the only way to get them off is by deactivating the locks on your wrists."

She nodded like she understood, but the truth of the matter was, she had no idea what was happening to her. Or why.

"Why are you gloved like that?" Dariux asked.

She looked up at him, unsure if she could trust him enough to share her secret. Instead of answering him, she shook her head. She looked down at her thigh, saw no blood, but it hurt like hell. She figured that they'd hit her with something solid before she went down completely.

"I – I think they must have beat me," she said softly.

Lyra raised her hands to her face and winced, electric bolts of agony shooting through her body.

"Looks like it," Dariux said. "You must have put up one hell of a fight."

She shook her head. "I didn't have the chance," she said. "They hit me with a tranquilizer dart. They must have beat me after I was out."

Dariux's face darkened and something dangerous flashed through his eyes, but she saw him bite it back. He let out a long breath and regained his composure quickly. She looked around and saw she was in what must have been the cargo hold of a ship. Her eyes then fell on the other boxes lined up around hers, and she felt her eyes grow wide.

"A – are there more like me in those boxes?" she asked.

The man shrugged. "Assume so."

The knots in her belly constricted tightly and a wave of fear rippled through her.

"Who are they?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Don't know," he said. "You're the only one who woke up."

"There's blood on your face and you're a little cut up," he said, his voice a little softer.

Lyra raised her hand to touch her face again, but hesitated, knowing she wouldn't be able to feel anything through the gloves anyway. Dariux let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair, uncertainty etched upon his features. She could see the conflict in his eyes, debating with himself whether or not to put her back in the box.

"Please don't," she urged him, her voice soft. "Please don't put me back in there."

He looked around nervously as if he expected somebody to pop out and catch him doing something he'd been told not to do. His eyes came to rest on her and she saw the compassion on his face again. Saw the kindness in his eyes. No, he didn't have anything to do with what happened to her. With her abduction and rough treatment. Lyra was absolutely positive about it.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he finally said. "Come on."