A/N: I was watching 'Out' from season 1 the other day on DVD (box sets rock!) and I got this idea "I wonder how those girls saw Max once they found out what she was." So this is set after Freak Nation and is from the POV of one of the girls Max saved from a foreign brothel in 'Out'. Major spoilers for 'Out' and some minor ones for FN. This'll be my first ever Dark Angel fic and my first story that's not a crossover, so I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel. If I did, it never would've been cancelled (raises fist to the sky). Darn you FOX!

They say she's a monster, a freak, the worst out of all those 'transgenic mistakes'. They say that she doesn't have a soul; everyone I know agrees on that. After all, she was made in a lab; she's humanity's creation, not God's. How could she possibly have a soul? They always sit there, complaining about the 'freak problem', pounding their slander into our young, malleable minds. My dad especially can't go an hour without lecturing us on how "Trangenics are dangerous, they would kill you without hesitation or remorse! They're like an infestation of vermin, and what do you do to vermin? You exterminate them."

We're told every day, "If you see a transgenic, call the police, tell someone so that the freak can be eliminated. Give them no mercy. They don't deserve mercy."

What a bunch of morons.

We all know better, everyone who was on the plane that night. We all remember how cold it was, how we huddled together, frozen in terror. None of us knew what was happening or where we were going, only that it couldn't be good for us. I'm sure some guessed what was going on, in the back of my mind I knew too, but none of us said it out loud. It was like the whole situation would only be real if someone articulated it, like it was a dream and we would all wake up soon if no one said it was real. It's funny how the human mind works isn't it? It seemed impossible that I, who had had nothing incredible or remotely interesting happen to me ever, was now being shipped off and sold to whatever foreign brothel wanted me. It just couldn't be happening.

Looking back, I think I must've blocked out a lot of the experience. I don't remember the drive from where they picked me off the streets to the airstrip, or all the hours they kept us locked up in that dirty room. It's all a blur. But there are other things that I remember vividly. I remember comforting a petite blond while she sobbed into my shoulder (her name was Allyson, we still talk to each other a lot); I remember the fear of not knowing what was going on outside, especially when we heard gunfire. But most of all, I remember her. I remember her face, her eyes when she opened the cargo hold doors; she was so beautiful we thought she was an angel; I'm still not convinced that she's not. I remember how kind she looked when she said it was going to be all right, like she wanted to gather us all up in a hug and wipe away our tears. I remember how she vanished into the night soon after. One minute she was there, the next she wasn't, it was like she just disappeared. We all wish we could've thanked her. For months afterward I checked every face I saw in the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of our angel. I thought I did once, but she was gone before I could get a closer look. It wasn't until I saw her on the news that I knew who she was. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but a face that beautiful is hard to forget. Then they played the police tapes and I heard her speak. Then I knew. I'll always remember that smooth, calm voice, even when it was hard with stress you could hear the undercurrent of compassion in it. Or at least, I could. The voice of X5-452, Max, leader of the Freak Nation and the worst transgenic of them all. I wonder what my parents would say if I told them I owe her my life?

They say she's a monster, a soulless freak that doesn't deserve to live.

But I know better.

A/N: So there it is, I hope you liked it. If you did, review! If you didn't, please review! See a typo? You guessed it, review! I would love to know what's wrong with it so I can improve. But words of encouragement are welcome too! Until next time.