Natalie's History

[Natalie Blake]

((Everyone else is doing it, so I figured I'd give it a go, too, lol))

--Earth--
24th March 2454

"Natalie Elizabeth Fairholm, how many times do I have to tell you to get rid of it?!" Elaine yelled, shaking her head at the stubborn fifteen year-old girl before her. Natalie grimaced at the use of her full name, and her scowl only intensified at her mother's look of sheer exasperation. They'd been arguing for a good ten minutes now, and Bill, her father, had snuck off to work on his cars again.

"You have no right to keep treating me like a child!" Natalie argued irately, crossing her arms to make her point. "I turn sixteen in two weeks, and that means you have no right to keep telling me what I should or shouldn't do!"

"I am entirely aware of your age, young lady, but there was no purpose behind getting that tattoo!" her mother hollered, shaking her head and eying her daughter's shoulder distastefully.

It was true that the tattoo wasn't exactly necessary--Natalie could own up to that much. But her mother had said that she didn't want any child of hers to be marking up their skin merely for the purpose of having something there, and like any rebellious teenager Natalie had acted against her mother's words. And so she now had a pentacle tattooed on her left shoulder-blade. Even though her mother couldn't see it under her shirt, somehow she knew it was there.

"Tattoo removal is painful and expensive," Natalie insisted firmly, lifting her chin in an almost arrogant manner, "And as I'm not partial to pain or throwing away my money, I say the tattoo stays."

"Your money?" Elaine said incredulously, lifting an eyebrow. "That is Fairholm money, hon, not yours. I earned that by working the bar and your father earned it by working on his cars. Until you start earning it for yourself, you have to ask permission to use it!"

"What?!" Natalie shrieked, her hands falling to her sides in outrage. "Since when has that been a rule?!"

"Since right now, and I expect you to follow it!" Elaine snapped, narrowing her eyes.

Clenching her teeth furiously and curling her hands into tight fists Natalie spun around and marched out of the bar, practically shaking with anger. The way her mother was acting was unfair and irrational. After all, Bill had multiple tattoos and Elaine had never complained about any of them. So why was she blowing a gasket now that Natalie had one?

As they always did when she was upset, Natalie's feet carried her swiftly to her father's garage, where he was bent diligently over his newest project. Still annoyed, she said nothing as she marched in, seating herself on an adjacent workbench huffily. Bill glanced up at his daughter, but only smiled a little and said nothing. He knew what was coming.

"It's not fair!" Natalie wailed suddenly, her brown eyes alight with frustration. "She won't let me do anything! And she knows it, too! The one time I go and do something without asking, she flips out on me!"

Laughing, Bill straightened up. "Well, Nate, you really went out of your way to rankle her this time, so you can't really expect her to take it calmly, now can you? If I remember correctly, she flat out told you she didn't want you going and inking up your skin--"

"Without telling me why!" Natalie interjected, glowering. "She always says what I can and can't do, but she never tells me why! All I want is an explanation!"

"She has her reasons, Nate," he assured her, warmly yet determinedly. "But enough about that. Why don't you come and help me with my newest project?" She didn't want to be distracted while she was venting, but the prospect of playing with another vintage car pulled her in and she slid off the workbench to come and see what it was he was working on.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, eying the car's black exterior with an appreciative eye. It looked old, like almost everything her father worked on. This model in particular had to be at least three or four centuries old.

"It's a Chevrolet Impala from the year 1967," he told her, a grin curving his lips as he watched his daughters eyes widen in both surprise and awe.

"1967? For real?" she asked excitedly, her own smile joining his when he nodded. "Awesome!"

"I figure this one will be a keeper," Bill told her, moving aside to show her the metal shrapnel that was all that remained of the car's engine. "Obviously we'll have to gut the poor girl, but then we can fit her with all the top technology of this day and age and..."

His voice faded away for a minute, and Natalie considered the ancient car parts. Fitting it with cutting edge technology and whatnot probably made the most sense, but there was something about the authenticity of the vehicle that would be lost in doing so. But maybe if they simply remade the engine, it would still have that feeling of originality?

"Dad?" she said suddenly, cutting off his flow of words. "I don't think we should hot-rod her. Can't we just dissect the engine and recreate it?"

Bill looked stunned for a moment, but then a smile spread across his face as he contemplated her suggestion. "You really want to do that?" he asked, the gears in his head obviously whirling at top speed.

"Why wouldn't I?" she shot back, determined now. "If I bring it back up to what it once was, it'll sell for who knows how much. Then mom won't have an excuse to yell at me about what I do with my money!"

"All right, all right, easy there tiger," Bill laughed, cupping his daughter's shoulder. "If you really want to do this, I'm not going to stop you. But I'm not going to help you more than is necessary, either. This one will all be on you."

Natalie perked up, happiness emanating from her like a beacon. "Honestly? You're going to let work on something on my own?" Bill smiled, and before he could even confirm her question she leapt over and hugged him. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed.

After laughing and hugging his daughter back, Bill's expression suddenly became serious. "There's just one condition, though, Nate."

"Like what?" Natalie asked suspiciously, pulling back to look up at him.

"You have to go and apologize to your mother," he told her, watching her with a patronizing expression. "I know that sometimes what she says annoys you or doesn't make sense, but she is your mother, and she means well."

Natalie sighed heavily and unlatched herself from him, giving an over-exaggerated eye-roll and frowning at her father. "Oh... fine," she relented, turning for the door and taking the handle in her hand. Before she opened the door, she glanced back at her father and added stubbornly, "But I'm still keeping the tattoo."

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[Natalie Blake]

--Earth--
19th June 2460

Minnesota summers were almost always stifling hot, and the humidity made it all the worse. It was days like today that Natalie seriously regretted her decision not to install a proper AC system in the Impala, especially considering her baby's black paint-job. Even going as fast as she could on campus limits with the windows cranked down, she still felt like she was trying to breathe in a sauna.

Thankfully the university itself was kept cool, and she--like a fair few of the other students--tended to keep inside between classes as it built up into July. Ergo, it wasn't surprising that she was sitting against the wall in the hall when her professor found her. Professor Bourdon was a short, buff, bespectacled man whose goatee was was the only hair on his head, and he happened to be one of the finest engineers on the planet.

"Hey there, Natalie," he said a little too brightly, waving at her. "Could you come with me, please? No need to worry, you're not in trouble."

"Er, sure," she agreed in mild confusion, shrugging.

Shoving the book on freighter engines she'd been reading into her bag, Natalie got to her feet and followed him down the hall to a spare classroom that she knew for a fact was hardly ever used. Why was he bringing her here? Inside the classroom were a four other students, and she recognized each of them--she could even put names to their faces. They were all I.B. students, just as she was.

There were also two other professors in the room. Professor Kyte was an elderly Asian woman, and professor Dynal was a beefy man with a thick grey beard that blended interestingly with his grey-flecked brown hair. Counting professor Bourdon, that was all three of the top engineering professors at the university.

Her curiosity piqued, Natalie wandered over to take a seat. Alex, the man seated next to her (and the only person she really considered a friend at the school besides the professors), gave her a nearly imperceptible head-shake at her brief, questioning glance to let her know that he didn't have a clue what was going on, either. Well, that wasn't very reassuring.

"You are all no doubt wondering why you are here," Professor Bourdon began, as had read Natalie's mind. There were a couple of murmured confirmations from the students. Clasping his hands behind his back he began pacing back and forth slowly in front of the white-board, his face a mask of barely-contained excitement.

"The five of you are the best students this university has seen in years, and this does not go without merit. Two weeks ago, professors Kyte, Dynal and I were approached by members of the United Government of Allied Planets--also known as UGAP. We were each offered a place as an engineer aboard a ship called the Venia for a high-priority mission."

"But the three of us are too old to be going out into space for who knows how long," Professor Kyte cut in, her dark eyes roving back and forth across the five students seated in front of her. Natalie shifted uncomfortably, the scrutiny making her feel like she was about to be called out for an error or something. "And so we agreed to put our heads together and pick the top five students at the university for them to choose from instead."

It was professor Dynal's turn now, and he grinned at the students broadly. "Just one of you could work faster than the three of us together. All five of you have had applications put forward which are now being looked over by government officials, and by the end of next month they will have decided which one of you will be joining the crew of the Venia."

The end of their announcement was greeted by exclamations of surprise and gasps of delight. Only Natalie remained silent, gaping at the professors in disbelief. She'd never left Minnesota, let alone Earth, and they were suggesting her to go into space to work for the government? Were they crazy? Clearly, the answer was yes.

--Five Weeks Later--

Seeing as it was summer and all, Natalie had arranged to go home and visit her parents for a couple of weeks. Aside from Christmas and New Year's Eve, summer was the only time she could manage to get away and see them, and it was always nice to come home, even if it was only for a short while.

Once she hit the highway she practically floored it, smiling as wind whipped in through the Impala's open windows and tossed her hair about wildly. The engine growled, and she relished in the sound. It had been too long since she'd been able to drive her car this hard. In fact, she hadn't since last summer, if memory served.

Enjoying as herself as she was, it took her a little longer than it should have to notice she was going over the speed-limit, and even then it was only because of the blaring sirens following her. Cursing, she pulled over to the shoulder of the road and watched in annoyance as the officer driving the squad car clambered out. Her vexation turned to bewilderment as a man in a pressed suit stepped out from the passenger's seat.

The officer stayed by the car, but the man in the suit came over to her window and looked in, his expression uncomfortably strict. "Are you miss Natalie Fairholm?"

"Last I checked I was," she replied with an almost curt nod, nonplussed. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"I work for UGAP. I've been sent to tell you that the application your professors sent in has been reviewed and accepted. You are expected to be on this shuttle"--he paused long enough to hand a bewildered Natalie a slip of paper that turned out to be a ticket--"when it takes off. It will take you to a boarding station where you will join your crew-members in boarding the Venia."

"I--what?" Natalie stammered, blinking sarcastically. "I was actually accepted?" If she hadn't already been sitting, she probably would have fallen over. This was just unbelievable. "What about Alex and the others? Couldn't one of them go instead? They're just as good as I am, if not better."

"I'm just passing on the message and your ticket, miss Fairholm. If you have a bone to pick, I suggest you ask your captain or your superior once you get onboard the Venia." With that, he straightened up and marched back over to the squad car and slid back in easily, and Natalie watched with wide eyes as the vehicle sped off back the way she'd come.

[Natalie Blake]

--Earth--
24th December 2442
Bill's POV

The saloon was never really all the busy during the holidays, seeing as most people wanted to be home with their family, and so Bill, his wife Elaine, and their daughter Natalie hadn't been expecting anyone in today. Bill had spent the last few hours or so amusing Nate by shaking presents with her to see if she could try and guess what was inside.

"Bill, if you keep doing that with her she'll continue to do it when she's older," Elaine pointed out, though she sounded more like she was going to laugh than like she was actually annoyed.

"That may be, but at least it keeps her amused," he replied, grinning. Elaine shook her head but smiled and went back to preparing dinner.

Bill's grin widened as Nate snatched up another present--a very special one for him, apparently; even Elaine didn't know what it was, as their five-year-old had determinedly wrapped for herself (which left the actual shape of the gift completely open to interpretation)--and held it out to him.

"Try and guess what it is, daddy!" she giggled, giving him an adorably dimpled smile when he took the unidentifiable package from her small hands.

Only aiming to entertain her, he shook the parcel and pretended to think for a minute. "Hmm... is it... an elephant?" he asked, working to keep a straight face. Natalie giggled again and shook her head. "Well then... maybe it's some beer?"

Nate's expression became genuinely confused. "Why would I get you beer when we have it on tap?" Bill couldn't help but laugh, and she laughed with him even though she clearly had no idea what was so funny. Even at five, she was using more logic than most. She was going to be quite the handful when she was older.

"You're a little smartie-pants, aren't you?" he smiled, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

"Yup!" she agreed, as if it were obvious. She then ordered, "Now guess what your present is!" Bill smirked and set the gift down, opting to pick her up instead. She shrieked with laughter as he stood up and spun her around, her small fists gripping the collar of his shirt tightly. "Daddy, put me down!" she squealed.

"You want down?" he asked, pretending to prepare to let go. Natalie screamed again and latched her arms around his neck, making him bellow with laughter.

"Oh, Bill, stop scaring the poor girl!" Elaine chastised, glancing up from where she was working with a playful scowl.

"I wasn't scared!" Nate said defiantly, though she relaxed visibly when Bill set her down on her feet again. "I'm not scared of anything!"

Bill opened his mouth to respond, but it was then that the saloon doors swung open, and two men stepped in. They looked like bikers, dressed all in leather and denim, but unlike most of the bikers that passed through, they were carrying guns. Instinctively Bill stepped in front of his family, and their guns instantly found him, their aim unwavering.

Even though she clearly didn't know what was going on the sudden tension in the room had Natalie running around the counter to her mother's side, and for that Bill was grateful. She'd be safer back there.

"Give us all the money you have in this shit-hole! Now!" the stockier of the two men demanded, tossing a sack bag at Bill.

He caught it reflexively and glanced at Elaine, who was frozen in fear, her eyes wide as she looked at him. His mind was whirling, trying to concoct some sort of plan. They needed to have something they could do without alerting the men until the last minute. After a moment he remembered the revolver they kept under the counter near the register, just for this sort of situation. He could try and create a distraction while Elaine got Natalie out of their and called the police.

With that in mind, he turned slowly and walked over to where the register waited, pressing the buttons with his left hand while his right slid under the counter-top. No doubt seeing what he was doing, Elaine emitted a little gasp and silently ushered Nate further back into the saloon, towards the door that led to where they lived. Good, she seemed to know what he had in mind.

The men didn't seem to notice his wife's quiet exit, and so they were in no danger there. Once the door had closed behind them, quick as lightning he whipped the gun out and fired it at one of the men and watching as he fell to the ground--dead? He didn't pause long enough to check, turning the gun on the remaining robber. When he pulled the trigger, however, not only did one shot ring out, but two.

Before he could register much more than that he was crippled by an overwhelming pain in his chest, and he dropped to the ground. He could barely breathe for the pain, black orbs beginning to blur his vision. The darkness grew and grew, and the last thing he heard before he was pulled under were the two most important people in his life calling out for him.

--Two Days Later--

When Bill managed to force his eyes open again, he had expected to be staring at the familiar wood-paneling of the saloon, but instead he found a white-tiled ceiling glaring back at him. Blinking a little, he became aware of two things almost instantly: one, there was an annoying beeping sound from somewhere nearby, and two, his chest was absolutely screaming with pain.

Less instantaneous were the realizations that he had an oxygen tube strapped to his face, the beeping was a heart-monitor, and he had an I.V. in his arm. He was in a hospital. That never boded well. Sudden worry bubbled up in his chest as his thoughts turned to his family, and ignoring the pain he pushed himself into a sitting position, looking around the room. Neither Elaine nor Natalie were there.

The door opened suddenly, and a young woman in a long white coat stepped in. When she saw that Bill was awake, she smiled widely. "Oh, mister Fairholm, your eyes finally open! Your wife and daughter--"

"Are they all right?" he queried desperately. He knew he'd probably killed one of the men, but what if he'd missed the other? Had that been why they screamed?

"Yes, yes, they're perfectly all right," she assured him, smiling warmly--no doubt in the hopes of comforting him. The smile fell away then to be replaced by a look of concern. "Actually, Bill, it's you that you should be worried about. Do you remember what happened?"

"I remember shooting at the men that were trying to rob us and my family screaming, but that's about it," he admitted, reaching up with his free hand to rub his eyes.

"According to your wife, you when you shot the one, his partner fired his own gun, and you ended up hitting one another at the same time. By all rights, you should be dead, but his bullet missed your heart." And yet even as she spoke, her expression was one of the deepest remorse.

"...Am I going to be okay?" Bill asked cautiously.

"The bullet may have missed your heart, but it struck very close, and if we try to remove it we may end up killing you. We've left it in for now, but eventually it will travel into your heart and... well, if you make it through the next week, you should last for the next twenty years or so. But until the end of that first week, it'll be pretty touch and go."

Bill was quiet for a long moment. So if he didn't die within the next week, he'd die within the next twenty years. Well, at least now he knew when and how he was going to die. But he didn't want Elaine and Natalie to have to worry over him for however long he was going to live. He wanted to be able to live what was left of his life to it's fullest.

Finally he looked up again and met the doctor's eyes. "Does my wife know about this?"

"No, we only just got the test results back a few minutes ago," the woman informed him, holding up the clipboard she was carrying.

"Good. I'd like to keep it that way."