Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

Slayer ex Machina

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: Buffy died in the Hellmouth at the end of "Chosen." The Company had different plans for her. A dark adaptation of Kage Baker's "Company" series.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Sci-Fi
Multiple Crossings > Buffy-Centered
(Current Donor)deiticlastFR1845,5540113,88831 Oct 099 May 14No

The New Me

I own nothing, except a few newish concepts that I've introduced in this story that Kage Baker didn't put in her novels, though they are entirely plausible in her universe. Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon, yada yada. The Company universe belongs to Kage Baker, as far as I know.

Hope you enjoy!



I had a family, back in my other life. . .

I had friends who were very close to me. A sister, Dawn, who I never really understood. And a job. More of a calling, really.

I was once the Slayer. The one girl in all the world who was to rise up and fight the vampires and demons alike that would threaten the existence of mankind. I was that Slayer. Then, my best friend Willow, a super-powered witch, changed all that. I mean, I was still the Slayer. It's just that I wasn't the only Slayer. Hundreds of girls were called, all around the world. Possibly thousands. I'm not really sure about the specific number because of two reasons: 1) I died. 2) Now that I'm living (again), the Company has blacked that era out of my data banks.

You see, me and the group of girls who had the potential to be the Slayer after I died (i.e. - Potentials) were trying to fight the Baddest of Bads, the First of All Evil. Foolishly, I might add. I mean, how do you kill a First Order god? They're non-corporeal, for pete's sake! They're built in to the fundamental laws of the universe. Can't kill 'em without killing everyone in the universe. So, what is a girl to do, you ask? Well, you do your best to make their eternal lives just that much more frustrating.

And my best, obviously, wasn't good enough. Because as the newly minted Slayers and I fought back the hordes of Hell, I was killed by a sword blade which separated my fifth and sixth vertebrae and also pierced both chambers of my heart. I was dead by the time I hit the ground. The last thing I remember doing before I died that last time was tossing the Scythe (bad-ass mystical weapon I'll tell you about later) to Faith and saying something about holding the line. . .

And then I woke up in Atlantis. No, really.



When I awoke that first time, I was screaming. The pain in my back was all-consuming, and I knew I was dying. Then there was darkness again.

The second time I came to, I couldn't feel any pain at all. In fact, there was this cool sensation between my shoulder-blades where the wound had been. Confused by this, my first thought was, I must have been asleep a long time. My back's completely healed.

When I opened my eyes, however, all thoughts of what had happened were replaced with, Now, where the hell am I?

The room I was in was bright--almost blindingly so. I had to squint just to see the other figures in the room. I knew there were people there because I could hear them talking among themselves. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but something about the way the language sounded made me try to identify it. And suddenly I understood every word they were saying. They were talking about me.

". . . she's showing optimal vitals doesn't mean she's ready to be revived. Remember what happened last time? She killed Michaels and smashed the Incubator up pretty good. That unit's worthless now, thanks to her. We're going to have to wait until next month's shipment in order for him to be Regenerated. He's only got two Regenerations left before his allotment's up, and we need him for the gene therapies. You know what the sight of blood does to me."

"Shush! She's awake!"

"Oh, don't worry yourself. Her files say she doesn't speak Ancient Phoenician, and we haven't activated her Access Nodes yet. She can't get into her language files, so there's no way she could understand us." The larger of the two figures walked up to me and picked up something that was laying beside my head. "See? The tablet is saying that her motor functions are offline and her Access Nodes have yet to be unlocked."

The other voice started to go into a high-pitched whine as he squealed, "But I only have one Regeneration left! Why risk it?"

"Well, then," said the larger figure, "you shouldn't have been experimenting with the Cerberus Progenitor. It serves you right, being eaten like that."

"But," the other figure sputtered, his voice reaching even higher notes of piteousness, "I don't even remember that!"

"As well you shouldn't, after being torn to shreds and passing through the gullet of a monster."

I'd had enough of the nonsense coming from the mouths of these two, so I reached out my hand and grasped the whining one by his throat and turned to the larger figure, hoarsely whispering, "Where am I? Who are you? What am I doing here? And if you don't answer my questions, all of my questions, within the next three seconds, I will make sure I kill you as many times as it takes for you to stay dead." I hoped he wouldn't call my bluff, but I needed him to keep on thinking that I would kill a human in order to scare the information I needed out of him.

"Uh, well, um. . ." he started before I cut him off.

"First, turn down the lights," I demanded, still squinting at him through the glare, unable to quite make out what he looked like.

"Well, um, uh. . ." he stammered.

"Just do it, or I'll kill this one here and turn the lights off by tearing off his head and smashing them with it!" I roared at him, ignoring the choking squeal coming from the guy I'd just threatened to decapitate. I would never do such a thing, of course, but I was scared, and considering what I'd just been through before waking up in that super-bright room, I was ready to do something.

"But I can't fix the lighting! Harry's gotta do that!"

I was beyond wanting to argue with the guy, so I released some of the pressure I had on Harry (I was pretty sure the guy I was holding by the throat was Harry), and he instantly sputtered, "Um, Access Node 25798708630, process command Alpha 11-2, sub-command visual cortex auto-adjustment."

Before I had the chance to ask him what the hell he was talking about, the lights went out and then slowly brightened to what I guess a bright midday sun would look like indoors. What's more, before I had a chance to thank them politely for fixing the lights, the skinny, ugly guy that turned out to be Harry, started saying something else. "Access Node 25798708630, process command Theta 86--"

I had my hand back on his throat before he could say anymore, and this time I cut off his windpipe so that he passed out after a couple of seconds. "Now," I began as I turned to look at the fat, even uglier man standing off to the side in what looked to be stark terror, "we can't have him doing something that could be construed as stupid, can we?" The pudgy man shook his head so fast I thought it would fall off, his jowls sending ripples all through rolls I wished I hadn't seen. "Now, what was he about to do?" I asked, the danger of who I am reflecting in my eyes (you see, it's all in the eyes).

"He was, uh, well, he was--"

"Spit it out, tubs! I don't have all of eternity here!"

"Um, actually, you do, Ms. Summers. You see, he was trying to access the command to shut you off."

I whirled around at the new voice behind me. "What? Who are you?" I asked.

The small, thin girl smiled pearly-white teeth that were in stark contrast with her ebony skin. "Why, I'm Lilith, Ms. Summers. I'm a cyborg, just like you."

"Say what?!" I yelped.

Lilith just grinned in that perfect, demure way that only she could. "Welcome to Atlantis Base One, Ms. Summers. We've been expecting you."



Let me know if you like it! I've got lots more where this one came from!
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking